Aibek heard his phone vibrate, and upon lighting up the screen, a pang of anxiety shot through his chest as he confirmed the sender's identity. Zinov Kuznetsov represented a constant headache for the competitive circuit, but for the Kazakh, he had morphed into a certified nightmare. He knew the Russian's volatile temperament inside out: an explosive being who demanded immediate submission and sought to control his every move. His first impulse was to ignore the notifications, but the consecutive arrival of new messages forced him to give in to prevent the situation from escalating.
To Zinov:
You shouldn't get mad... 17:37
Besides... you were the one who stopped talking to me... 17:37
On the other end of the line, the mention of his own anger tripped alarms for the auburn-haired youth. It exasperated Zinov deeply to have his disproportionate reactions exposed or to have his inability to recognize a mistake pointed out; his emotional maturity was always left called into question in the face of the Kazakh's lucidity.
To Aibek:
That's a lie! I am not mad! 17:38
Aibek! Don't say those things... I thought that if I distanced myself you would grow stronger, and I wasn't wrong. 17:40
Reading that written manipulation cut deep into the black-haired youth. Having the person to whom he had surrendered his affection justify cruelty and abandonment as a strategy to "make him stronger" functioned as a double-edged sword, inflicting severe damage on his already fragile stability. The ghost of a sob caught in his throat, but Aibek inhaled deeply to hold back the tears; Jake remained mere inches away on the sofa, and despite his usual lightheartedness, the Canadian possessed an instinctive sharpness when it came to protecting him.
To Zinov:
Really? But... you were very cruel... 17:45
He sent the text with a trembling hand, keeping the screen illuminated like someone waiting for a belated miracle, silently yearning for his former companion to admit his faults and offer a genuine apology.
To Aibek:
I know, forgive me, honey, it wasn't my intention... I thought doing this to you would be good so you would win... 17:45
To Zinov:
Yes... I won... but I was strong because of the pain you put me through... sorry for bringing this up... we better talk later. 17:47
Aibek locked the device abruptly, refusing to carry on with that draining dynamic. Back in his hotel, Zinov raged in front of his screen, restraining the urge to smash another object so as not to ruin the ground he was trying to reclaim.
To Aibek:
No! Wait, honey!... fine... I'm sorry, I'll text you later. 17:47
The Russian's purpose remained unchanged: he needed Aibek to avert his gaze from the Canadian and return to orbiting exclusively around him, incapable of tolerating Jake occupying the place of privilege he considered his by right.
For Aibek, facing that text exchange had required an immense dose of courage, but the digital venting ultimately relieved some of the oppression in his chest. As he looked up and met Jake's protective gaze, the residual fear dissolved. The Canadian's presence acted upon him like an absolute balm, restoring a peace he believed long lost.
"Is everything alright?" Jake inquired in an incredibly soft tone, careful not to fracture the tranquility of the room.
Aibek offered him a clean smile, assuring him with his eyes that the internal storm had passed, though a subtle reservation kept him from opening up completely about the source of his distraction.
"Yes! Thank you, I'm really fine. For now, let's talk about us!" the younger youth proposed with a sweet laugh, trying to shake off the bitter aftertaste of the conversation as he laced his fingers together with a hint of nervousness.
"What would you like to talk about, little one?" Jake asked, pleased to see how his childhood love's features regained their relaxation thanks to his pampering.
"I'd like you to teach me the technique for the Loop jump... I want to master it once and for all! It's an incredibly complex movement," Aibek admitted, tracing a cute pout of frustration.
It was a technical element that resisted him on the rink: the need to initiate the takeoff from a right back outside edge, cross the left leg in front in the air to complete the rotation, and land precisely on that same right foot required milimetric coordination.
"Alright, we can break it down right here! As long as you reveal the secret to your Axel jump. Now that one is a challenge, considering the takeoff is executed facing forward," the Canadian countered, infecting the black-haired youth with their shared passion for the intricacies of figure skating.
"It's a deal! Watch this!" Aibek stood up nimbly and, on the living room floor, executed a simple warm-up jump: a clean rotation in the air with an impeccable landing on his right leg.
Jake's face lit up; contemplating the younger youth's body line, even in a confined space, always filled him with profound admiration.
After clearing the center of the living room a bit, both skaters stood face-to-face. Jake stepped closer to correct the black-haired youth's posture with absolute patience.
"First, the alignment of the torso; it must always maintain structural rigidity. Just like that, exactly how you're doing it. The initial momentum must come from the preceding glide, pressing down hard on the left foot to generate torque in the air, while keeping the free leg extended so you don't break the axis of rotation."
The older man demonstrated the movements at a slow pace, limiting the lesson to static positions on the floor to avoid any risk of injury on the rigid surface, given that they hadn't done a proper warm-up.
Aibek attempted to imitate the sequence, but the lack of inertia and his flat footwear played a trick on him, compromising his balance. As he lifted his leg to mark the position, his center of gravity shifted to the side.
"Honey, careful!" Jake exclaimed.
With athletic reflexes, the Canadian reacted instantly to intercept the fall, catching the younger youth firmly around the waist. The maneuver left them in an incredibly close proximity, their faces mere inches apart.
"I... I'm sorry, Jake... I didn't mean to lose my balance," Aibek stammered.
The heat of embarrassment flushed his fair skin with a deep crimson. Unable to maintain eye contact, he lowered his head to hide his confusion, while Jake, focused on securing his grip, minimized the incident with complete naturalness.
"You have nothing to worry about, beautiful. It's fundamental to mechanize the arm positioning before taking the jump to the ice rink," the older man explained, maintaining his physical support while helping Aibek raise his leg to the ideal height. "Practicing on this plush rug will save you the pain of direct impacts on the ice during the early stages."
"Thank you, I really appreciate your patience," the Kazakh sighed, concentrating his attention on the mechanical instructions until he managed to stabilize the pose with the Canadian's help.
"You are incredibly dedicated, Bek... your lines are flawless," Jake praised with pride, before leaning in affectionately to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "The structure is ready to be tested tomorrow on the rink. For now, I suggest we return to the peace of the forest or take a short walk once the rain lets up."
Guided by the same impulse, they returned to the sofa area to shelter themselves from the afternoon's dropping temperature. They settled under the blankets, sharing a soft laugh at how quickly they sought out each other's closeness.
"You know, Bek... you are the most charming person I've ever had the fortune to meet," Jake confessed in a slow tone, wrapping his arm around him. "It makes me tremendously glad that we shared those childhood years on the rink, and it makes me happy to have your friendship and have fun with you now."
The Canadian interspersed a quick burst of tickles along the younger youth's sides, eliciting a new wave of laughter from Aibek. With that subtle shift in rhythm, Jake chose to protect the black-haired youth's space, diluting the intensity of his romantic declaration into a shared game so as not to rush the timeline of a heart that was only just beginning to heal.