The shared laughter became the primary echo in that corner of the forest; both skaters were immersed in a state of absolute closeness, projecting the living image of a solidified couple to the eyes of anyone who might pass by. However, protected by the mountain's isolation and the total absence of outside gazes, there was no need for labels. Neither made the slightest move to break the physical closeness. In that instant, the solitude of the forest setting transformed into the ideal stage, providing them with an atmosphere of unmatched shelter and warmth.
"Aibek..." the Canadian whispered, modulating his voice into a deep, magnetic tone that caused a subtle shiver in the younger youth, whose only response was to cling a bit tighter and smile shyly.
"Ah... Jake!" the black-haired youth stammered, experiencing a flush that ignited his cheeks completely. He settled against the older man's firm chest before sinking back into a reflective silence. It remained an absolute enigma to him how easily the charismatic skater managed to disarm all his defenses, submerging him in a whirlwind of shyness and sweet nervousness.
"Take it easy, little one... I just want to stay like this, holding you. You have nothing to fear; I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable," Jake assured him with a gentle smile.
Fearing his physical insistence might feel invasive to the younger youth, he began to relax his grip gradually, distancing himself slowly to restore the younger man's personal space on the rock.
While they enjoyed that perfect truce, oblivious to the pressures of the competitive circuit and surrounded by an idyllic landscape, the reality in Russia was radically opposite. In the sports complex locker rooms, Zinov Kuznetsov held his mobile device with such force that his knuckles turned white from the pressure. His obsession didn't allow him to concentrate on anything else; the fact that his previous messages didn't even register read receipts, repeating the same pattern of indifference as the night before, kept him in a state of contained rage.
"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."
—Theodore Roosevelt
Driven by an implacable determination, the blond decided to resort to a more direct measure. Despite the connectivity difficulties and the poor reception that the dense forest vegetation provided to Aibek's device, the line managed to connect a phone call. However, the ringing of the mobile was deliberately ignored by its owner, forcing the Russian to inhale slowly and deeply to keep from losing his composure entirely.
"Soon you will return to my side, Aibek Kenes," Zinov declared aloud, using a grave, icy tone, where rage mixed with the macabre satisfaction of the plans he was already beginning to structure in his mind. He had always held the firm belief that the talented Kazakh belonged to him exclusively.
Without giving any respite, he began to draft an incessant burst of texts, heedless of the time difference or the possibility of interrupting the skater's activities. His only objective was to break the younger man's indifference, seeking to force an acknowledgment that would open a sliver of hope to distance him definitively from James's influence.
"This time you won't elude me... I will do whatever is necessary to ensure you don't seek refuge in the arms of that idiot again," he murmured to himself, sending consecutive notifications where the intensity of the messages escalated rapidly. He went from a brief: "Bear, how are you?", to drafting dense paragraphs, saturated with affective promises and grievances from the past.
The younger youth's phone continued to vibrate on the stone with insistence, but Aibek showed not the slightest intention of checking the alerts. His attention remained turned entirely to the sketchbook, tracing the features of the Canadian, who posed with absolute devotion, marveled by the artist's focus.
"You possess extraordinary talent, Bek! And you are, by far, the most beautiful person I have ever seen," Jake declared, modulating his voice with such genuine sweetness that it provoked an immediate smile in the black-haired youth, though modesty soon played a trick on him as he processed the caliber of the praise.
Aibek constantly struggled with the idea that someone of James's stature could seek his company for purely affectionate motives; accustomed to isolation and being labeled an excessively reserved athlete, the Canadian's extroverted and straightforward nature felt like territory as fascinating as it was intimidating.
"Jake... please, don't keep saying those things..." he asked in a murmur, lowering his head at the intensity of the words.
"Not saying what?" the older man replied, arching his brows playfully with the sole purpose of dispelling his childhood love's shyness.
"That... what you just mentioned," the black-haired youth articulated, letting out a nervous laugh at his companion's gesticulations.
"What did I say, my little bear?" Jake insisted, eager to force the younger man to verbalize the praise, convinced that hearing his own virtues out loud would help strengthen his confidence.
"That... that I am... talented. And... and cute... but the reality is that I am none of those things," Aibek confessed, looking up. His large, dark eyes acquired a crystalline sheen, accumulating a layer of held-back tears.
Jake, aware of the enormous sensitivity that characterized the younger man's temperament, understood immediately that he had to act with extreme delicacy to avoid compromising his stability.
"You are mistaken, because you are those things in every sense! Your gold medal on the rink is no coincidence. You earned my admiration... and my heart from the very first moment. Besides, you looked truly spectacular in every one of your official photos," Jake declared, letting the impulse of his feelings overflow any prudence.
His only north was to see happiness painted on the younger man's face; however, the declaration caused Aibek's blush to reach its peak, allowing a pair of silent tears to roll down his cheeks.
"Ah... Jake!" the black-haired youth exclaimed in a thoroughly broken thread of a voice.
Hearing that fragile intonation finished disarming the Canadian completely. With a slow movement charged with reverence, he reached out toward Aibek's face to caress his cheek with his fingertips, wiping away the trace of the tear with total softness. What happened next froze time on the top of the rock: Jake closed the final distance and joined his lips to the younger man's in a thoroughly delicate contact—a brief, clean kiss, loaded with a devotion contained for years, executed with the sole pretense of offering him comfort and reaffirming his worth.
"Jake..." Aibek whispered when the contact broke slightly.
His lips retained the warmth of the opposing pressure. He brought two fingers to his mouth in a gesture of absolute surprise, his pulse racing to the max due to the shock. The Canadian, fearing he had crossed an inappropriate boundary, began to stammer an apology.
"I am truly sorry... I shouldn't have..."
His words were cut off mid-sentence. Aibek, driven by an unprecedented burst of audacity, reached out to grab the lapels of Jake's coat, pulling him down firmly. Before the older man could process the action, the Kazakh's lips—thin but impressively soft—pressed against his, choosing the language of action to silence the hesitations of the conversation and plunge headfirst into the warmth of the encounter.
The second kiss lasted for several minutes, transforming into a much deeper exchange, where the black-haired youth's initial shyness matured before the intensity and undoubted affection that Jake professed for him. The environment seemed to vanish until the impact of the first raindrops on their faces forced them to pull apart abruptly.
"I... I think the storm is back! We have to get back to the cabin!" Aibek announced in a rush, finding in the weather change the perfect justification for dealing with the whirlwind of emotions the kiss had unleashed.
Without losing a second, the younger youth stood up and began to descend the rock, embarking on a fast sprint along the trail to shelter from the incipient rain.
Jake remained static for a few moments, processing the texture of the black-haired youth's lips, until Aibek's silhouette began to distance itself considerably. Reacting with haste, he grabbed the backpack and the drawing material scattered on the stone and began the pursuit in the rain, anxious to ensure the younger man didn't suffer a mishap along the way. However, his mind remained so absorbed in the warmth of the kiss that, through a lapse in his trajectory, his shoulder impacted fully against the trunk of one of the trees on the path. The blow was sharp and painful, forcing him to let out a curse under his breath, but not even the physical discomfort was enough to erase the smile of absolute victory drawn on his face as he recalled the sweetness of Bek's fleshy lips.