[ Second Place ] partner!Caleb, fiancé!Zayne cw: figure skating AU, angst, unrequited love, engaged reader An: Trying this angst thing out since Caleb took me to hard pity when everyone else came home early. Based on one Scott and Tess edit lmao.
The arena's backstage area was a whirlwind of controlled chaos– coaches barking instructions, skaters gliding past in glittering costumes, the distant echo of applause from the previous pair.
Caleb, in this frozen world of blades and spotlights, stood alone for a moment, staring at his reflection in a foggy mirror. His heart raced not just from the impending performance, but from the storm brewing inside him.
For years, you'd been his partner, his anchor on the ice, the one who made every grueling practice worthwhile. But lately, the lines have blurred. Touches that were once purely technical now sent sparks through him. Laughter in the rink echoed in his dreams. He was falling, hard, and he knew it was dangerous.
You were engaged to Zayne, for God's sake. Steady, reliable Zayne, who waited patiently in the stands or corridors, never understanding the intimate rhythm you and Caleb shared. Caleb clenched his fists, willing the feelings away. Focus on the program, he told himself. Not on her smile, not on the way she fits perfectly in your arms.
But the turmoil gnawed at him– jealousy for what he couldn't have, fear of ruining the partnership that defined him, a deep ache that made every breath feel heavy.
You appeared then, your presence pulling him from the edge like always. "Hey," you said softly, adjusting your skate guards. Your eyes met his, and for a second, he wondered if you could see the chaos behind his calm facade. He forced a smile, the one he'd perfected over countless competitions.
"Ready to sync up?" you asked, stepping closer.
He nodded, pulling you into the hug that had become your ritual. It started as a simple embrace before stepping onto the ice, breaths aligning like a shared heartbeat. But for you two, it has evolved into something more profound. His arms wrapped around you, firm yet gentle, your head tucking against his chest. The world faded– the noise, the pressure, the crowd. Your breaths fell into sync almost immediately, slow inhales and exhales mirroring each other, a silent promise of unity.
But this time, it lingered too long. Caleb's hands pressed against your back, feeling the warmth of your skin through the costume, the subtle rise of your shoulders. He closed his eyes, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume mixed with the rink's chill.
This is torture, his mind screamed. Let go.
But he couldn't.
The hug stretched, seconds turning into an eternity where unspoken words hung heavy– his growing love, the way he craved more than just partnership. Fermented strife twisted in his gut: What if I confess? What if I lose her?
Finally, he released you, his touch trailing down your arms, searing with the weight of what he buried deep.
The announcer's voice cut through, calling your names. You glided out together, the spotlight igniting the ice like fire. The music began, a swirling melody that captured the push and pull of your bond. From the first lift, the difference was palpable. Caleb's hands on your waist burned, each hold extending beyond the beat, his fingers gripping with a desperation he hoped you didn't notice. In the dips, he lowered you with deliberate slowness, your faces inches apart, eyes locking in a gaze that spoke volumes. Every spin, every twizzle, carried the undercurrent of his restrained desire– touches that lingered, breaths that synced even in motion, his body screaming what his words couldn't.
The audience saw perfection; Caleb felt the sear of longing, each contact a reminder of the line he couldn't cross. The program ended in triumph, your final pose leaving you entwined, breathless. The crowd roared, flowers cascading like confetti. You won. Gold. As you skated off, Caleb pulled you into another hug, this one raw and unfiltered, his face buried in your hair. "We did it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion he fought to contain.
In the corridor to the changing rooms, adrenaline still thrumming, you squeezed his arm. "That was our best performance yet, Caleb. We were unstoppable."
He halted, turning to you, the vulnerability cracking his resolve. "Yeah... it was. Listen, I need to tell you something. There's–uh feelings– I've been trying to ignore them, but– "
But then you saw him– Zayne, your fiancé, standing there with that warm, expectant smile.
Joy lit your face, simultaneously erasing the moment's intensity and stomping on Caleb's heart. "Zayne!" you exclaimed, breaking from Caleb and rushing into his arms. He caught you, lifting you slightly as your lips met in a celebratory kiss. "We won," you laughed, wrapped in his embrace.
Caleb's world tilted. Pain flashed across his features, a brief painting of raw jealousy, a stab of regret, the hollow ache of almost. She chose him. She always will. He buried it swiftly, plastering on a grin as he approached. "Congrats, you guys," he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside.
The partnership would survive. He'd make sure of it. But the hugs, the touches– they'd carry his secret a little longer, syncing breaths in a rhythm that was his alone to bear.
Thanks for reading <3
✦ STRWBRRY'S BULLETS
