"Crushed Ice" w/ ChrisMD
Author's Note: âŚso Iâm back on this bullshit. This is just a long drabble. I have a half written bullet point headcannon thing that I lost the plot with, just wanted to finish this series lol. Idk jack shit about half pipe, despite me watching endless videos of it. Written while I was commuting to work, proofread about five minutes ago, take it or leave it.
I could've done a lot differently, I might go back to the original story I was planning, but this is it for now. Fuck it lol x
Content Warnings: swearing, one makeout sesh, like one sentence where an argument takes place, lmk if I missed anything!
Word Count: 1.9k
Chris Dixon, Team GBâs âPocket Rocket.â Heâs been plotting the murder of commentating duo (cough Will and James) for coining that nickname, which now follows him like the plague. After a fall on the final run in Sochi, a fall on the first run in PyeongChang and being just edged out of bronze medal position in Beijing, Chris is ready to throw in the towel. Luckily, Chris has got you, a friend, best friend in fact. A shoulder to cry on. Someone he can go to who will give him no bullshit advice and opinions. He trusts you with his life. Bit awkward heâs in love with you.
You met Chris while you were a ski instructor for kids. He was training at the same snow center. The kids all loved him and knew him from the TV. What started off as polite greetings, blossomed into late night conversations, inside jokes, thereâs teasing over whose sport is better and your hopes and dreams. The usual friendship things. Except the falling in love part. That was Chrisâs fault. What? He couldnât hide the cheesy grin that spread across his face whenever a text from you came through. Every time he made a mistake in practice, heâd hear your voice in his head, encouraging him not to give up. Heâd see how well you worked with the kids you taught, you were always able to make them smile if they were feeling upset, squashed any arguments, the parents all loved you as well. Once heâs back from Beijing and the Olympic/Paralympic buzz is over, youâre able to convince Chris for âone last shot.â âMaybe Milan will be different?â You offer, and Chris prays youâre right. But, youâre both older now, and havenât had any time for fun since you were working full time, and he was always training. So, a month away on a ski trip wouldnât hurt, right? Youâre with your group of friends. To be honest, you and Chris barely have any time together because itâs always so busy, you each keep being dragged from bar to bar, from mountain to mountain, itâs all a whirlwind.Â
WellâŚthere was this one time, you decided to have a night in. Youâve got the chalet to yourself while everyone goes out. Using this as an opportunity to have a nice relaxing dip in the outdoor hot tub. Itâs just you, in the lovely warm and bubbling water, and the snowy mountains surrounding you. Youâre not sure how long youâre out there, maybe youâre reading a book, maybe thereâs a podcast on, maybe youâre just enjoying the calm. Until Chris comes home early. He swears his heart skips a beat when he sees you, all nice and serene. âAre you going to keep perving on me or are you going to jump in?â You tease, not thinking anything of the comment, youâd seen each other in next to nothing before (swimwear, Iâm talking about swimwear), why was he being awkward now? After apologising profusely, and changing into his swimming trunks, Chris joins you, with a bottle of prosecco and immediately regrets it. But, youâre not sensing any weird vibes. So, you two catch up for the first time on the trip. Youâre both giggling from the drink (his dumbass forgot to get glasses and heâs been thinking about how sharing a bottle is you indirectly kissing, heâs a loser wbk). Somewhere in between the conversation, you notice him looking at your lips, he sits closer to you (claiming he canât hear you over the bubbles). You knew Chris was cute, but never realised how handsome he was closer up. Chris isnât sure who made the first move. He does know he never wants to stop kissing you. Who needs oxygen? Heâs got his hands on your waist and your fingers are running through his hair. An almighty clatter comes from inside, your friends are back, the spell breaks. Chris is in too much of a love struck daze to stop you leaving (quickly wrapping a towel around yourself and slipping back inside, hiding away in your bedroom). Everyone can feel thereâs been a shift in vibes between Chris. But neither of you address it. You carry on as normal. You assumed it was a tipsy mistake. He didnât actually like you like that. Youâre best friends!Â
Meanwhile Chris couldn't be more in love with you. Once youâre back home, the regular every day routine takes over, Chris goes back to training, you go back to teaching. You still hang out, text, call, all the time. But thereâs something there. Maybe a spark of what couldâve been? Flash forward a couple years and Milan is right around the corner. Chris is fed up with the narrative the press have put him in already. The nicknames, people saying this is his âlast chance.â Seeing clips from Olympics past (although heâs never forgotten) nearly has him pulling out of the team at the last minute. Luckily, youâre able to get some time off work to travel with him, although youâll be staying in separate lodgings.Â
Once the snowboarding event gets underway, youâre standing with his family and friends, a news crew comes over to get some insight on Chrisâs mental state coming into whatâs rumored to be his last games, youâre quick to shut those statements down, leaving the interviewer to awkwardly wrap things up. During qualifications, Chris keeps crashing out (literally), scraping by to get through to competing for a medal. Heâs so busy practicing and training that you two arenât even able to get time together. So one night, after a particularly grueling session in the snow, and more interviewers trying to give him a complex, you and Chris have your first fight. Youâve had disagreements before, but those had more open communication, you heard each other out, and apologised. There was no time for that here. You try your best to reassure him, pleading with him to take care of himself, but he doesnât want to hear it. Everything comes spilling out in a âyou have no idea what kind of pressure Iâm underâ type of rant, he doesnât let you get a word in. Before you can try and talk some sense into him, he hangs up and doesnât respond to any of your texts. (He goes on a walk around the Olympic Village and bumps into Ice Hockey Player!Harry Lewis, who heâs known for ages. By some miracle, Harryâs able to talk Chris off the ledge). Chris phones you back first thing on the morning of the event. You hear each other out. Youâre just trying to protect him. Heâs trying to prove everyone wrong. Chris begins the event at the bottom of the pile. Thankfully, two huge runs on the half pipe, heâs in the silver medal position. The energy in Livingo is electric. You get to chatting with the other competitors families, hearing their stories, how they started, what this means to them and their country. âHow long have you and Chris been together?â one asks. âOh! Weâre not-â An announcement over the loudspeakers silences you all, time for the current snowboarders in podium position to do their final run. Third place puts down a solid run, a missed trick puts them down a couple crucial points. âRepresenting Great Britain, Chris Dixon!â the crowd goes wild. Youâre not even sure if you cheered, too stressed out to make a sound. You just know the commentators are spewing some bullshit, âThere was the fall in Sochi, the injury in PyeongChang and the disappointment in Beijing, will Milan finally be the one for Chris Dixon?â âCome on Chrisâ, you think, âshow them all. Prove them wrong.â You know his routine off by heart (when youâd Facetime each other, heâd fall asleep first, mumbling his jumps and rotations). Chris drops in. Switchbackside 1440. Backside double cork 1260. Frontside 1260. Back to back 1440âs. He sticks the landing! Not over or under rotated. Plenty of airtime. Youâre still running logistics in your head when Chris appears in front of you. Snowboard and helmet are nowhere to be found. âChris you did it, your best run, you didnât miss a trick,â youâre rambling, mouth moving faster than your mind. âReader,â he puts his hands on your shoulders, âit doesnât matter.â Heâs smiling, but youâre not sure why. âWhat do you mean? No oneâs beating that run!â You reason. Overhead, the last snowboarder drops in, but you canât tear your eyes from Chris to watch. âI donât care about winning anymore, I just want you.â Youâre stunned silent. But the roar of the crowd allows you to take a glance at the big screen, projecting the athletes' results. âI shouldâve been honest when I first started feeling feelings for you, Reader-â âChris, please-â âNo, Reader, hear me out, even if you never want to talk to me again, I need to tell you-â âChris, I swear to fucking God.â You have to physically turn him around to look at the screen. It takes a second for the gravity of the situation to set in.Â
His friends and family are screaming, most are crying, many are jumping around. Chris Dixon, Great Britain, Gold Medal. Oh. Oh. Itâs like Chrisâs life flashes before his eyes. His first snowboarding lesson. First wipeout. Teaching you how to snowboard. Getting his first board for Christmas. First meeting you. X Games. The first time you stayed over at his. Beijing. Your first kiss. You were intertwined with him. He had just won his first gold medal, and youâre all he can think about? Chris blinks back into reality, he turns around to immediately be pulled into a hug from his family. Even some of his competitors run over to congratulate him on his well overdue gold. You canât hold back the tears anymore by the time Chris is back in front of you. You pull him into a tight hug. The crowd is deafening, but youâre still able to hear Chris say, âItâs not the adrenaline talking Reader, I really do like you. You mean more to me than any medal, you always have.â If you werenât crying before, you definitely were now. You feel Chris shift and you two loosen your hold on one another, itâs an official motioning him to follow. 2nd and 3rd place athletes are standing behind them, so you assume itâs to go to the podium. You pull Chris in again, just quickly so you can give him a kiss on the cheek. As you both pull back to face each other, heâs looking even more dazed. âGo get your medal, youâve earned it. Weâll talk later,â you look him in the eyes, âPromise,â you add. Chris follows the official, reluctantly. Looking back at you every few steps. Smiling bigger than youâd ever seen.Â
âAnd there you have it, Chris Dixon of Great Britain is the new Olympic Gold Medalist in Half Pipe Snowboarding! Congrats Chris, we always believed in you!âÂ
âWill, you never believed in him. Thereâs compilations of it on YouTube. You started calling him a Pocket Rocket for Christ sake.âÂ
âShut up James. It doesnât matter now, heâs got the gold and it looks like heâs got someone even more valuable. See you in four years everyone!â


















