#skylocked

Shiro led the way, tall and proud, with Lance his elegant, graceful shadow. They skated to this middle of the rink and split off Shiro going to the left and Lance to the right as one of the hosts announced them.

“And now we have a very special program from two if the hottest male figure skaters, Takashi Shirogane of Japan and Lance McClain of Cuba.”

Lance glided around the right half of the rink light and quick on his feet. His blades hardly seemed to touch the ice. As he went around, he waved and winked to the crowd, and blew the occasional kiss, to many squeals of delight. He was well known as the flirt of the ice, a siren that called everyone's attention to him and tempted them to join him with a twinkle in his eye.

Shiro travelled in a more sombre manner, with power and dignity. If Lance was the darling of the ice, then Shiro was it’s King. He commanded the ice, and the audience's attention, with his presence alone.

They skated around their half of the rink and came to the middle again in unison. They crossed paths, and Lance smiled reaching out a hand to brush his fingers against Shiro’s. It was a light touch, but Shiro's hand tingled with the thrill of it, as it did whenever he held Lance's hand. They parted, and now Lance was skating around the left side of the rink and Shiro the right, greeting the other half of the crowd.

“Now McClain caused quite a stir just two years ago when he just flew all the way to Japan and asked, the then retired, Shirogane to train him,” the other host laughed incredulously as if he still couldn't quite believe the bold move Lance had taken.

Lance smiled at the memory and blew another kiss to a group of girls holding up a banner. They shrieked with joy and almost dropped it.

The whole reason Lance had started to skate was Shiro. The man was his inspiration and his motivation. After the accident that took his arm, Shiro disappeared from competitive skating, and it seemed the public eye entirely. It had taken Lance a full year to save up enough to afford to go to Japan and track him down.

“You want me to train you?” Shiro scoffed.“In case you hadn't noticed I'm hardly in the right shape for that,” he sneered brandishing his prosthetic arm at Lance.

Lance caught the waving hand in both his own and held tight. Shiro froze.

“You are the greatest skater I know. It's because of you I've gotten thus far, and I know you still have it in you. You're my hero,” Lance said emphatically, his blue eyes shining with an intensity that took Shiro’s breath away.

“And many say it's thanks to McClain that Shiro returned to competitive figure skating,” the first host chimed in.

The pair skated back to the centre if the ice twirled around each other and came to a stop taking up their starting positions, back to back.

“This short program is a combined effort between these two. McClain composed the music, and Shirogane choreographed the program. The title us ‘deai’ which is Japanese for 'encounter'.”

“So this is likely to be the story of these two friends' 'encounter' with each other," the host predicted.

Shiro heard Lance snort being him, and he too had to fight off the urge to smirk.

Well, they'd all know soon enough.

The music started, a gentle, melodic tune and they skated away from each other. Lance's movements were flashy and graceful showing off the breadth of his talent, and yet even as Lance executed every move flawlessly, there was something mournful about his performance. Something was missing.

Shiro's movements were sharp and heavy, as is he was restraining himself. His gestures were designed to conceal, to not draw attention to himself, his head bowed and his arms up attempting to hide.  

Lance leapt into the air and spun, landing to face Shiro, a distance away from him across the ice. Lance moves now expressed surprise and longing, and he set off towards Shiro and skated circles around the older man crying for his attention. Shiro turned away from him and tried to ignore him, but everywhere he turned Lance was there, tempting and inviting.

Shiro tried to push Lance away and make his escape as the beat of the music picked up, but Lance was persistent. He chased Shiro again, and this time Shiro lifted him and threw him up in the air. Lance spun high in the air the lights glinting off his costume.

Shiro turned, executing a flashy move that accented Lance's spiral in the air. As Lance fell, for a heart-stopping moment, it looked as if Shiro wasn't going to catch him as if Shiro was turning away for good, but then Shiro's arms were there. He caught Lance at the last moment and swept him low across the ice. They were face to face. Lance's arm wound around Shiro's neck in an elegant arch, his body a perfectly graceful line.

Shiro lifted him up and set him down, but Lance held on and drew Shiro towards him. He danced around Shiro, encouraging and enticing. Everything he did was directed towards Shiro, and Shiro was drowning.

“Why won't you get on the ice?” Lance scowled.

“You know why,” Shiro said bluntly, swinging his prosthetic arm at his side for emphasis. It was a weak excuse.

“I'm not going to learn anything with you just standing there shouting at me,” Lance complained. He glided in circles around the ice, groaning loudly.

“You will if you follow my instruction,” Shiro said sternly.

Lance glared at him, but then a smirk slowly took over. He skated to the wall towards Shiro, the picture of innocence.

“You know maybe you're right,” Lance mused. Shiro knew then he was up to something, but it was too late. Lance was too close before Shiro could stop him Lance glided past him and snatched his phone out of his hand.

“Lance give that back,” Shiro sighed. Lance glided away from him.

“Nope, you're going to have to come get it.” Lance taunted.

“I know you always have your skates with you,” he called as he travelled further across the ice.

Shiro growled and wondered if his phone was worth it, but Lance was right, he did always bring his skates with him. He couldn't let go of them, and Lance's skating was such a wicked temptation, so vibrant and alive it reminded Shiro of everything he'd lost, everything he missed and everything he wanted.

“Ok fine but don't say I didn't warn you,” Shiro grumbled. He grabbed his bag and quickly put on his skates. He hobbled towards the ice and paused. Could he really go out there after all this time?

He looked up at Lance, who was gliding in aimless circles, watching the videos of him Shiro had recorded on his phone. His whole attention seemed to be on the screen and yet he still moved so elegantly. He didn't stumble or hesitate completely at home on his blades.

Shiro stepped out on the ice and caught his breath. He felt like he was skating for the first time all over again, his balance was completely off thanks to the awkward, unfamiliar prosthetic but as much as he stumbled, trying to keep his balance, the cold was familiar and welcoming.

“See it's not so bad now is it, you just need to learn to get your balance again,” Lance skated up behind him, supportive hands resting on Shiro's hips. Shiro hadn't even seen him get close. He hadn't been paying attention.

“Now just straighten up,” Lance ordered a hand pushing against Shiro's back.

“And pull these shoulders back,” Lance grabbed Shiro's shoulders and pulled them back.

Lance skated around him and all of a sudden he was in front of Shiro, skating backwards his hands held out invitingly.

Shiro took them.

The music reached a crescendo, and now Shiro and Lance were mirroring each other, skating together. They copied each other perfectly, and yet the movements were still their own, Lance grace where Shiro was strength. The beat and slide of their skates against the ice matched each other and went in time to the music.

After some mirroring, they came together again and now they were dancing together. Every move allowed them to complement each other now, even as Shiro lifted Lance and guided him through the techniques, making him centre stage, Lance threw the spotlight right back at him, drawing him in.

“I think...I'm going to go back to competitive skating,” Shiro confessed nervously.

“Really? Shiro that's wonderful!” Lance all but squealed, and he threw his arms around Shiro pulling him into a tight hug.

“You're not mad?” Shiro gasped.

“Of course not, why would I be mad? This is a dream come true!”

“Competing against me?”

“No, competing with you, being on the same stage, in the same competitions. Even if we're competing for different countries...I've always wanted to compete with you,” Lance breathed softly.

The music wound down, and their dance slowed becoming something more tender and intimate. They were coming to the final lift, the end of the routine. Shiro caught Lance's eye but there was no need for him to ask again or confirm anything, he saw it in Lance's expression, in his skating. He was ready.

They faced each other and Shiro's hand slide under Lance's arms lifting him up, his arms held out at full length. Lance held himself tall, his arms poised above him in a final, elegant pose. The music slowed and began to taper off. The pair glided to a stop, and Shiro slowly lowered Lance as the last notes of the music carried across the ice.  

Shiro gazed up at him, still as mesmerised as he had been the first day he met Lance, maybe even more so now. Lance glittered under the lights, the gold around his head shimmering reflecting off his hair and skin making him glow.

Lance gazed down at Shiro, his left arm come down to circle around Shiro's shoulders without quite touching him, hovering so close his hand shook slightly with the desire to touch. The admiration in his eyes shone just as bright, but there was tender affection in them too, understanding and acceptance. There were so many emotions in those deep blue eyes, all reflections of the different ways Lance loved Shiro.

Shiro lowered Lance against him, supporting Lance's weight against his chest. Their faces were so close their lips a breath away from each other.

The final note of the song played, and silence carried across the ice. It was over, and Shiro would put Lance down, and they'd take a bow. At least that was what everyone expected.

They moved in unison, Lance wrapping his arm around Shiro's shoulders, his other hand curling around the back of Shiro's head. Lance tilted his head just as Shiro lowered him the last few inches and their lips could finally meet.

The kiss was cold but was soon warm by the heat of their mingling breath. Lance's lips were soft and pliant, while Shiro's were firm and demanding. Lance sank against Shiro and held on tighter. He tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss.

Shiro arched against Lance and pressed up into the kiss. He welcomed Lance and took everything the other man had to offer. He met Lance, pressing up into the kiss to claim the other man's lips so there could be no doubt that this was an accident or a one-sided thing.

Their lips pressed and slid against each other in an intimate dance of their own. Shiro lowered Lance onto the ice and wound his arms around the others man's waist, never once breaking the kiss.

The kiss lingered for several long moments, the arena around them so quiet that all they could hear was the wet sound of their lips pressing together, their breath coming in short hot gasps, and the thundering beat of their hearts.

They drew apart reluctantly, slowly, lips parted wanting nothing more than to go in for another taste.

“Ready?” Shiro breathed against Lance's lips. Lance nodded, his eyes closed. They took a deep breath together, steadying themselves and then moved apart to stand side by side.

Shiro's arm remained around Lance's waist, and Lance's hand rested on Shiro's shoulder.

The crowd was silent.

“Well…” the host's voice echoed around the rink louder than usual.

“It seems that all those rumours going around about their relationship are actually true."

The crowd cheered and screamed. Lance sagged against Shiro in relief, and Shiro's hand twitched against his hip. The crowd was happy for them, excited even, although there were several disappointed, teary faces in the audience.

Shiro laughed and pulled Lance closer, sweeping him in for another kiss.