It's Not A Side Effect Of The Triple Axel (I'm Thinking It Must Be Love)
[ Master Post | Fanmix 1 | Fanmix 2 | Fanmix 3]
Mikey staggered into his suite in Vancouver. Thanks to the snow in the Northeast, he'd had two flights canceled and the third had been delayed. He finally managed to catch a red-eye out of Newark to Charlotte, where Brian had talked them onto a non-stop flight to Seattle. From there it was only a short hop to Vancouver but by then they'd been traveling, in some form or another, for almost 48 hours, and Mikey was exhausted.
He looked around the suite, taking in the posters on the walls, the artfully tossed blankets and pillows, and the - Mikey sniffed slightly - scented air?
"Johnny?" Mikey called curiously.
Johnny appeared in the doorway of the left bedroom, already dressed for bed - or at least lounging - in bright blue yoga pants. "Mikeyway! I thought you wouldn't get here until tomorrow." He wrinkled his nose and looked at his iPhone. "You didn't text me."
Mikey stifled a yawn, shifting his bag on his shoulder in order to pull out his Sidekick. "I was talking to Gee," he explained. "His flight was delayed, but he should be here before the Opening Ceremony." He tapped a few keys and slid the Sidekick shut. He sniffed again. "What the hell is that smell?"
Johnny looked up from his phone to glare across the room at Mikey. The effect of which was ruined slightly by the bedazzled headband he had on, but was still a rather effective bitch-glare. "Don't touch my scented candles. The suite smelled horrid when I got here two days ago. It smelled like wet dog." He shuddered. "I am not dealing with that Mikeyway; I refuse!"
Curious, Mikey took a deeper sniff, but all he could smell was the floral scent of Johnny's candles. He shrugged, turning towards the right side of the suite and froze. Mikey blinked slowly and focused on the poster on the wall. "Is that Audrey Hepburn?"
Johnny turned to look at the poster and grinned. "Yes! I love her."
Mikey stared at him incredulously for a moment. "Right. OK. I'm going to go pass out now."
"Already?" Johnny sounded disappointed, and Mikey's lips twitched in the smallest of smiles. Johnny sighed dramatically. "Fine, if you must. I suppose you do need your beauty sleep."
"Oh, fuck you," Mikey replied, rolling his eyes and moving towards his bedroom.
Johnny huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Fuck you! You didn't even mention all the hard work I did to make this place livable, except to bitch about the candles and insult Audrey! Seriously Mikey, it's like you don't love me at all. I could have had my own room in the Village, Mikeyway. I am sacrificing for you!"
Mikey turned to stare at Johnny, eyebrow raised. Johnny pouted and Mikey sighed, dropping his bag to the ground. He turned on the camera of his Sidekick, pointed it at Johnny quickly, and took a picture. Sending it to his twitter, he typed out rming w/ the biggst drama queen since gee. thx 4 sving me from Ross and clicked send.
"There, happy? I'm going to sleep now."
He grabbed his bag and pushed into his room, just as Johnny's phone chimed with the twitter alert. Mikey shook his head, yawning, as Johnny laughed in delight. Dropping his bag on the floor, Mikey fell face forward on to his bed and closed his eyes. By the time his phone chimed with a reply from Johnny, Mikey was fast asleep.
---
---
If not for Alicia, Mikey never would have put on a pair of figure skates, let alone have started competing.
He knew her from around the neighborhood roller rink, one of the few places that parents deemed safe enough in their town to let the kids hang out at. She'd latched on to him one afternoon, dragging him down with her as she fell, giggling hysterically instead of crying like he'd thought she would. After that, she kept hanging around and he kept letting her, despite the flack he caught for letting a nine year old follow him around.
After awhile she started dragging him along to her group ice skating lessons, determined that if she was going to have to freeze and be miserable for an hour, someone else would as well. Still, he didn't mind, happy to sit in the stands and listen to his Discman or play his Gameboy, grinning when Alicia skated by and made faces at the group coach, Monica, behind her back.
Once in awhile, after the other kids in the group had left, Alicia would coax and whine and complain until Mikey agreed to put on skates and race her around the ice. She liked to jump at him mid-skate, yelling "Catch me Mikeyway!"
He always caught her.
It was during one of their races that Monica called Alicia over, asking who her friend was, “that quiet young man with the long lines”.
Monica insisted Mikey was a natural on skates (which was slightly surprising, considering his general lack of grace on two feet), and that he and Alicia had chemistry on the ice. She wanted to pull Alicia out of the group lessons and start coaching them as a pair.
Mikey let Alicia do all the talking when they went to speak to his mom. He slouched against the wall, fingers tapping while Alicia laid out exactly why it was imperative that Mikey skate pairs with her, his mom's eyes getting wider and wider with every word.
"We'll be the best out there!" Alicia finally insisted at the end, with all of the stubbornness a ten year old can manage.
"Mikey, is this what you want to do?" His mom asked, turning to him with eyebrows raised skeptically.
He shrugged. It was what Alicia wanted to do, and he didn't really have an opinion either way.
His mom stared at him in disbelief and then threw her hands up in exasperation. Alicia squealed in her excitement, throwing her arms around Mrs. Way and then spinning and hugging Mikey tightly. He rolled his eyes and hugged her back, his mouth curving up slightly in a smile.
---
---
Mikey yawned as he stumbled along the path towards the USA Athletes' Lounge, and the promise of coffee. Years of early morning practices had honed his caffeine-deprived instincts, and he moved subconsciously through the throng of athletes and entourages, easily evading everyone, until he zigged when he should have zagged and bumped straight into someone headed out of the lounge.
"Hey, sorry about that!" The warm voice sounded apologetic. However the following, "are you awake?" sounded much more amused.
Through bleary eyes Mikey got a glimpse of a bright white, too-big smile and floppy hair. He muttered a vague "sorry" at the guy, still too asleep to manage anything more than single words, and moved to step around the other athlete. He could see the glowing green lights of the Starbucks sign through the lounge windows.
"No hey, whoa. Wait, here..." Mikey stopped as a Starbucks coffee was shoved towards his face. He automatically took it and breathed in the warm, nutty smell of hazelnut coffee. He took a sip, ignoring the burning on his tongue in favor of imagining the caffeine seeping into his bloodstream and waking up his brain.
He turned to say thank you to his new favorite person in the world - anyone who gave up their coffee was amazing, though possibly brain damaged - but the guy was looking at his phone and cursing.
"Late to my runs!" Coffee Guy, as Mikey's brain dubbed him, flashed another blinding smile and was gone, hurrying away across the village. He glanced back once at Mikey, grinning brightly and giving a tiny wave, before he disappeared into the crowd.
Mikey blinked, staring after him, his brain still processing at half-speed. Finally he shrugged, sipping at the free coffee, and turned, heading away from the lounge and towards the rink.
Brian was waiting for him when he arrived, arms crossed and scowling. "You're late." He glared up at Mikey from his chair by the boards.
Mikey shrugged, gulping down the rest of his coffee and sitting down to lace up his skates. "Needed coffee," he muttered, pulling up his warm ups to tighten the laces around his ankles.
"Of course you needed fucking coffee, between you and your brother Starbucks will never be in danger of going under," Brian rolled his eyes and stood. He waited until Mikey was finished tying his skates to pull him to his feet, and handed him an iced coffee. Mikey shot him a grateful look, swallowing half of it in one go and sighing happily.
"I love you."
Brian snorted and rolled his eyes. "You Ways. Your affections are so easily bought. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so sad."
Mikey blinked solemnly at Brian from over his cup. "Coffee is a serious business," he agreed.
"So's your skating." Brian stole the coffee back, ignoring Mikey's scowl. "Come on. Get your ass on the ice." He gestured toward the rink. "Go," he insisted, when Mikey didn't move.
Mikey ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face and sighed heavily. He shrugged out of his warm up jacket, pushing up the sleeves on his hoodie, "Could've let me finish my coffee, asshole. You know one cup isn't enough. All coaches are fucking sadists."
Brian nodded unrepentantly. "It's our revenge because we're bitter we can't skate anymore," he replied seriously. "Now," he put the coffee down on the bench, "You can have it back after you land 10 quads."
Mikey paused in stepping on to the ice and looked back at Brian in surprise. "We're... I... but you took the quad out for Nationals?" he asked in confusion.
Brian smirked at him, crossing his arms and leaning back on the boards. "And this is the fucking Olympics. So go. Quads. Now."
---
---
Mikey and Alicia were a strong pair on the ice. Judges were impressed by their clean performances, and their synchronized jumps. For a young pair that had started late, they quickly made a name for themselves.
They were both perfectionists in their own way. Alicia liked to push for harder jumps and more difficult combinations, practicing them over and over, even ones their coach deemed above their level. She moved gracefully between moves, jumping and twisting, before throwing herself at Mikey and trusting him to catch her, still as fearless as she had been at nine.
The jumps and combinations came easier to Mikey, so he stood around a lot, listening to his discman while Alicia argued with Monica. When their coach finally gave in to whatever Alicia wanted to try he'd shrug, skate on to the ice, and demonstrate whatever it was that Alicia wanted.
But it was tiring. They practiced daily, for hours, before and after when Alicia had school. Despite their talent, and the titles they continued to rack up at both local and regional competitions, Alicia's parents insisted she attend normal high school. Even so, they continued to compete at higher and higher levels.
Still, Mikey was surprised when, after a disappointing seventeenth place finish at the 2002 Olympics (they tried a new triple throw that landed Alicia on her ass), Alicia decided she was done with skating.
"I'm seventeen and exhausted," she told Mikey on their plane ride back to Jersey. "I'm barely passing high school, and we're not getting any better. You get it, right?"
Mikey shrugged and sipped at his coffee. "Not really," he confessed. "But OK."
Somewhere along the line, he'd really started to enjoy skating. He enjoyed being on the ice, trying new jumps and he even, though he'd never admit it to anyone, enjoyed performing for the crowd. So while he supported Alicia in all her decisions, he found himself at a bit of a loss of what to do. He didn't want to stop skating, even though now he was a pair’s skater without a partner.
---
---
"I can't believe they're making us wear this," Johnny grumbled. He tugged on the bottom of his jacket, zipping and unzipping it, trying to get it to fall in a way he liked.
Mikey tugged on his Team USA issued toque, rolled his eyes and dug in the pocket of his pants to find his Sidekick.
"No, seriously Mikeyway!" Johnny insisted. "The sweater is fantastic, and the jacket would be great if it was a little bigger, but tell me, what crack was Ralph Lauren smoking when he designed these pants?" Johnny's voice rose to an indignant squeak.
Around them, the other USA athletes laughed, well used to Johnny's antics. Most of them probably agreed with his assessment of the Opening Ceremony uniform, though they weren't as vocal.
"Why couldn't they just design us warm ups like every other country?" Johnny continued to grumble. "The 2006 uniforms weren't bad. I mean they weren't great, but..." Johnny paused and narrowed his eyes at Mikey. "You're not listening to me at all, are you?"
Mikey didn't bother looking up from where he was texting on his Sidekick. "Nope," he agreed easily, fingers tapping away. Gerard had finally arrived in Vancouver that morning, but not in time to see Mikey before he had to report with the rest of the team for the Opening Ceremony. Gerard was supposed to sit with Brian for the Ceremonies, but he was, of course, currently lost.
Johnny sighed dramatically and turned away. "I'm going to find Tanith. She'll agree with me about the uniforms."
Mikey waved his hand distractedly, barely registering Johnny rolling his eyes and flouncing off. Gerard was apparently currently surrounded by a whole crowd of people speaking Japanese and was freaking out.
"Coffee?" A semi-familiar voice asked from his side.
Mikey immediately held out his hand, and took a sip of the coffee that was placed in his hand. It was lukewarm at best, but it still tasted fantastic. Mikey made a happy noise as he took another sip, finishing his text to Gerard and finally looked up. He was greeted by a wide grin, and blinked. "I know you."
Impossibly, the smile widened. "And I know you, Mikeyway."
Mikey's eyebrows rose, "You gave me your coffee. Twice. You're either insane, or a saint." He looked the guy up and down, dressed in the Team USA uniform, though, was that a neon hoodie underneath the regulation jacket? Personally, he was leaning towards insane, but then again, coffee. He could be an insane saint.
Coffee Guy beamed at him and waggled his eyebrows. "You looked like you needed it more than me." He bounced in place as he spoke and Mikey figured this was probably true.
He took another large sip of his coffee. "Mm. Thanks." His phone beeped then, with a frantic text from Gerard - something about Belgians? - and Mikey's attention was diverted.
"It's OK. You looked like a zombie dude, and not in the cool way, not like you did in Torino with the Zombie Drummer look you had going on. That was pretty awesome, and the music! I heard you get it ‘specially composed, that's so amazing. Do you always go to the same guy? Who does your outfits? Because they're pretty sweet, though you could use more color. There are more colors in the world than black, you know that right? Of course you do, you skate against Weir. You and he are friends, aren't you -- oh here, let me take that." Coffee Guy broke off his rambling to take Mikey's empty coffee cup and disappeared.
Mikey blinked.
i thnk i hve a stlker He texted to Johnny.
Really? was the almost instantaneous response. m or f?
m. on the team 2 Mikey texted back. His phone blinked with an incoming message from Gerard, saying he'd found Brian, and their seats, and when the hell was the ceremony going to be over, he was already bored.
"Who're you texting?" Coffee Guy reappeared at his elbow, straining to see the screen around his arm and Mikey jumped in surprise.
The guy looked contrite. "Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you. We're moving by the way, time to walk and look pretty for the cameras." He grinned, tossing his bangs out of his eyes. Mikey saw he had his toque shoved in a pocket.
His phone vibrated and Mikey looked down. Our team? Even over texts Johnny sounded confused. name and sport?
His eyebrows creased slightly as he looked down at Johnny's message and back up at Coffee Guy. "What's your name?"
The guy's grin became a smirk. He grabbed Mikey's hand and bowed with a flourish, giving the back of it a kiss. Impressive, considering they were walking with the other athletes through the tunnel and out into the open arena. "Pete Wentz, snowboarder and coffee provider, at your service." He winked at Mikey, looking him up and down with a playful leer. "And I do mean at your service."
Mikey's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. He took his hand back, refocusing on his Sidekick and typing as he walked. PWentz. snobrd?
PETE WENTZ? CUUUUTE. Johnny replied instantly. A second later he got another message, this one from Gerard. brian says smle MIkey, ur on TV
Mikey looked up in surprise, belatedly realizing that they'd walked around half the arena with Team USA, and were coming to stop at their assigned position on the floor. He looked around for the TV cameras, easily spotting the hanging crane for NBC and gave it a little wave. Then he ducked his head back to his Sidekick. tell Brian to shve it
Pete pressed against Mikey's back, trying to see over his shoulder. "Who're you texting?" he pouted.
"My brother," Mikey replied, surprising himself as he leaned a little back into Pete's warmth. "And Johnny."
Pete's hand snatched out and grabbed Mikey's Sidekick. "No fucking way, I love Johnny Weir! Kid's fashion sense is fierce!" He started typing away.
Mikey stared at Pete, one eyebrow raised. Pete ignored him, grinning at whatever Johnny was saying. After a few moments Pete looked up and handed Mikey his phone back, ignoring his expression.
"He sounds awesome! And he agrees with me that Ralph Lauren is on crack," Pete grinned, bouncing in place.
Mikey rolled his eyes, silently agreeing with them, but not particularly caring either way. He sent a text message of O.o to Johnny.
Johnny responded quickly. Tanith says you cant emoticon if you dont have expressions
Mikey snorted, ready to bitch back at Tanith, but a new text popped up from an unknown number. Curious, Mikey opened it.
i red ur numbr. txt me 2 :-(
Mikey lifted his head, turning to look at Pete. Pete looked up from his own Sidekick, hopeful smile on his face, brown eyes wide. Mikey bit back a smile, but Pete caught the small motion and beamed.
---
---
No one was sure when Johnny and Mikey had become friends. They skated in the same local competitions, sectionals and regional’s, and somewhere along the line they became best friends. People were always a bit taken aback when they saw the two of them together -- the over the top Johnny Weir and the famously inexpressive Mikey Way -- but somehow it worked for them. So when Mikey found himself without an ice skating partner, Johnny was the second (Gee was always the first) person he called.
"So what's she going to do now?" Johnny asked over the phone.
Mikey opened his cabinets, trying to find his coffee filters and shrugged. "Finish high school hopefully. And then college or something. Maybe music. She doesn't know."
Johnny huffed. "And what about you Mikeyway? What are you going to do?"
Mikey shrugged again, scooping coffee into the maker and turning it on. He listened to the bubbling as the maker warmed up. "Not sure," he admitted. "I don't really want to skate with another girl." He frowned at the thought. Most of the girl ice skaters he knew were too prissy for his tastes. Alicia had never hesitated to remind him she could kick his ass.
"Come skate singles then," Johnny replied, voice rising in excitement. "My coach would take you on, I'm sure of it. Or she'll know someone."
Mikey hesitated. "I'm not..."
"Don't try that crap with me. We both know you could do the axel in your sleep." Johnny interrupted, and Mikey could picture him waving off his objections. "Actually, I think you have done it in your sleep."
Mikey got tired of waiting and grabbed the half-full pot of coffee, sticking his mug under the drip directly. "Four AM is early," he muttered defensively. He always spent the first twenty minutes of his practice time half asleep until the caffeine kicked in. His coach was constantly on his case about it.
"Well, you're an Olympian now, I'm sure you can have practice at 4:30 AM instead. Maybe even five AM," Johnny teased. "Hey! When you compete in the singles, can I design your outfit?"
"Of course not, that's Gee's job," Mikey replied automatically, taking a long sip from his coffee mug and closing his eyes.
Johnny laughed in his ear.
---
---
"Ow." Mikey said flatly as he landed on the ice. He'd flubbed the landing on his quad but tried to pull off the connecting triple anyway. Unfortunately he'd barely managed a turn and a half before crashing to the ground.
Brian skated over to him after Mikey didn't get up and circled round. "You OK?" he asked flatly, though Mikey could hear the concern in his voice after years of Brian's coaching.
Mikey sat up and nodded, wincing slightly as the muscles in his lower back protested. "Yup." He brushed ice shavings off his jeans and shook his head, trying to get it out of his hair.
"Mikeyway!" Pete's voice echoed through the mostly empty ice rink, and Mikey and Brian both looked around in surprise.
Pete was leaning over the boards grinning brightly. His hair was sticking every which way and, judging by his snowboarding jacket tossed over the bench behind him, he'd come straight from his own practice. Well not straight from - he had a steaming Starbucks cup in his hand.
"Brought you coffee Mikeyway. With soy and everything!" Pete gestured with the cup, barely keeping from spilling it on to the ice.
Mikey looked up at Brian, eyes hopeful, and Brian groaned. He grabbed Mikey's hand and pulled him to his feet, keeping him steady while Mikey stretched out the sore muscle in his back. "Five minutes."
Mikey skated off without a moment's hesitation and Brian glared after him. "I'm serious Way! Five minutes, only!"
"Hi," Mikey said, grabbing the coffee out of Pete's hand eagerly. "Thanks."
Pete beamed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and rocking back on his heels. "Of course! Hey, are you OK? I saw you fall."
Mikey shrugged, gulping at the coffee. "It happens." He eyed Pete's snowboarding pants. "Did you come straight from the mountain?"
Pete's cheeks flushed slightly, but his grin didn't dim. "Well, I stopped at the lounge first." He gestured towards his jacket, where Mikey could now see his duffel bag on the ground. "I'm gonna change, but..." he dropped his eyes, scuffing his toe against the ground. He looked up at Mikey through his eyelashes. "I thought I could watch you practice?"
Mikey surprised himself by nodding without hesitating. "Sure. I mean," he backpedelled, "if you want. My time's almost up, and I'm just working on jumps..." he trailed off as Pete grabbed his bag and grinned.
"Excellent!" Pete leaned in, kissing Mikey on the cheek and rushing off. "I'll be right back!" He headed towards the locker rooms.
The last of the coffee was cooling, so Mikey quickly gulped it down, leaving the cup balancing on the top of the boards. He skated back towards the middle of the ice, ignoring Brian's glare as he fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Quad then triple axle, right?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the ice as he skated past.
Brian rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a sigh. "Yes. Then your axel flip combination. If you think you can focus," he needled. Mikey manfully ignored him.
They spent the next twenty minutes going over his jumps. Brian wasn't satisfied that Mikey could do the combinations without falling, he wanted Mikey to be able to do them five times in a row without falling, or wobbling, or shaking, or any way but perfect. It was why Brian was such a fantastic coach, and why Mikey was at the Olympics in serious medal contention, even though he was almost 29, but that didn't stop him from entertaining murderous thoughts as he bobbled the landing on his triple flip and had to start all over again.
Mikey caught sight of Pete sitting in the stands, alternating between watching Mikey and typing away at his Sidekick. He was probably updating his Twitter - Mikey had seen the Team USA feed and almost half of the updates came from Pete. Mikey wasn't sure where Pete found so much to say. His own twitter was updated sporadically, usually only when he saw something he wanted to take a picture of, or when Johnny annoyed him into it.
Half a turn around the ice later, Mikey looked up again and Pete had been joined by Johnny. The two were grinning, gesturing wildly as they both talked with their hands. Brian followed his gaze and scowled. "Focus Mikey, or I'll ban him from practices."
Mikey snorted, rolling his eyes as he skated backwards to set up his jump, "Who? Pete or Johnny?" He pushed off and spun, barely managing the triple rotation, before landing cleanly.
Brian narrowed his eyes. "Both," he muttered sullenly. He watched Mikey pull through another triple and sighed. "Knee or back?"
"Both," Mikey said flatly, skating to a stop in front of Brian and wincing as he bent over. He rubbed his right knee gingerly, feeling the slight heat that signified the beginnings of swelling through his jeans. "Doesn't seem too bad, but it is beginning to swell."
"Well fuck," Brian sighed. He checked his watch. "Time was up five minutes ago anyway. We might as well stop."
Mikey looked around in surprise, and sure enough, Ryan Ross was standing by the entrance to the ice, arms crossed and scowling. Mikey and Brian exchanged an amused look.
"Go skate a few laps, stretch out your muscles," Brian ordered. "I'll convince the diva to wait another five." He patted Mikey on the shoulder and skated off towards Ross and his coach.
Johnny joined him on the ice as Mikey made his third lap. "Pete Wentz thinks you're hot," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Yeah?" Mikey asked flatly, but Johnny had been able to read him for year and could see the interest in the tilt of his eyebrow.
"Yup. He also thinks you need to be reminded there are other colors in the world beside black." Johnny looked at Mikey's jeans and black hoodie with a put-upon sigh. "I told him you were a lost cause."
"Hey, my costume this year is white," Mikey protested.
Johnny rolled his eyes, skating backwards so they finished Mikey's last lap. "The fact that you think that makes it better really just proves my point." He shook his head sadly. "I don't know where I went wrong with you."
They came to a stop beside the boards with a small spray of ice. Ryan Ross stared flatly at them, arms crossed over his chest. "You're late."
Johnny snorted, but Mikey simply stared back. After a moment Ross shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking away. Johnny snickered.
"Ross!" Pete joined them, slapping Ryan on the back. Ryan staggered slightly, but flashed a tiny smile in Pete's direction.
"Hey Pete."
"Brendon was looking for you this morning, you ever run into him?" Pete asked. Johnny and Mikey looked between them with interest. It was the most emotion they'd ever seen from Ross off the ice - other than disdain, that is.
Ryan nodded, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, he found me." His blush deepened as Pete waggled his eyebrows.
"Awesome!" Pete turned to Mikey and Johnny. "You guys know Ryan?" He blinked for a second and then answered his own question. "Oh, of course you do, skaters. You guys have probably known him longer than me. Maybe even longer than Brendon!" He nudged Ryan in the ribs. "Am I right?"
"We've known him for a few years," Mikey interjected, seeing Ryan blush even harder under Pete's attention. He nodded to Ryan. "Ross."
Ryan nodded back, equally as impassive. "Way." He looked past Mikey to Johnny and sneered slightly. "Weir."
Johnny smiled sweetly. "RyRo," he responded, smile growing as Ryan scowled. He pushed past them to get on to the ice, skating sharply away.
Mikey raised an eyebrow at Johnny, who tried, and failed, to look innocent. "What?"
Mikey rolled his eyes, stepping off the ice and smiling at Pete. "Hey."
Pete raised an eyebrow. "Drama on the ice?" he teased, gesturing at Johnny and past him towards Ryan. Johnny made a face at him and skated after Ryan.
Mikey shrugged, snapping the covers over his blades and walking over to his bag. He pulled a comb out of his bag, pulling his hair back from his face. "It's figure skating. There's always drama."
Pete laughed, a loud braying laugh that made Mikey grin. "Always?"
"MIKEY!!" Gerard rushed up in a panic. He steadied himself on Mikey's shoulder, gasping. "Sequins... *gasp* costume... *wheeze* ... torn..."
Mikey sighed. "Fuck Gee, cut down on the cigarettes will you?" He patted Gerard's back, holding him steady until he had his breath back.
"Fuck you and your damn athletics," Gerard finally said, glaring at Mikey. He glanced over at Pete, looked him up and down assessingly and frowned. "Who're you?"
Pete looked at Mikey with wide eyes, who shrugged, and then back at Gerard. "Um, I'm Pete."
Gerard turned wide eyes on Mikey. "That's Pete?!" he asked incredulously. Mikey flushed slightly, though his expression didn't change, and Pete started to grin.
"Oh fuck, whatever," Gerard waved it off. He pointed a finger at Pete. "We are going to have words," he glared, managing to look halfway menacing. Pete's grin dimmed a bit anyway. "But later," Gerard added. He turned and grabbed Mikey by the sleeve of his hoodie. "Mikey! Sequins! Emergency! NOW!"
Mikey waved slightly at Pete, allowing himself to be dragged off. "I told you. Always drama."
Pete's snort followed them down into the locker rooms.
Mikey shrugged Gerard off. "Let me change out of my skates Gee, fuck. What's wrong anyway?" He walked into the locker room and sat on the bench, pulling his leg up to start unlacing his skates.
Gerard paced anxiously. "The sequins on your free dance costume are coming off. We need to go get more. This is fucking Vancouver, there's got to be a fabric store around here somewhere right?"
Mikey pulled off his skates and started tying on his Chucks. "I'm sure." His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.
ill save u frm drama mway. prctice runs @ 2. cme play w/ me?
Gerard stopped in his pacing to stare at Mikey. "Holy fuck, are you smiling?"
Mikey rolled his eyes, tapping a quick response to Pete and shoving his phone back into his pocket. He climbed to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Come on Gee, we'll ask in the team lounge about the fabric store. We have to be fast though, I have to be back by two."
Gerard rolled his eyes, following Mikey out of the locker rooms and the arena. "I really, really don't want to know."
---
---
The switch from pairs to singles wasn't hard for Mikey. Weir was right. Mikey could easily do the higher difficulty jumps and spins required for singles, though he found the idea of going out in front of the audience by himself rather daunting. Not that anyone could tell.
He was already old for a singles skater, but it didn't seem to matter as he blew past the competition at Regional’s and Sectionals. Gerard recruited his friend Ray to write music for Mikey's long programs, and his originality and skill made him a judge's favorite. It also landed him a spot on the Olympic team for Torino.
Mikey sat with Johnny in their hotel room, phone out. Gerard sat cross legged on the bed next to him, heavy black fabric over his knees as he worked on adjusting Mikey's costume for his long program.
"Evgeni has a quad, you can't leave out some of your jumps," Mikey told Johnny, not looking up from his Sidekick. "You're in second place asshole, why would you lower the difficulty of your program?"
Johnny scowled down at his costume, making a minor adjustment to the shiny blue fabric. "Because. I want to, and if I'm going to win, it's going to be on my terms."
Mikey raised his eyebrow, but otherwise didn't take his eyes off the screen. "And your back hurts."
Johnny opened his mouth, frowned and then sighed. "And my back hurts," he conceded.
Mikey nodded, finally looking up from his phone and shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie. "Your program. Rachele wants me to leave my quad out." He eyed Johnny's costume. "You know Gee would do that for you. Gerard would love to get his hands on your costume."
Gerard looked up with eager eyes and gestured with his glue gun. "Hell yeah, I can help. Here-" He leaned forward, dripping hot glue on to his jeans.
Johnny's jaw dropped in horror and he pulled his costume closer to him. "Keep away with your summer camp art supplies, don't you dare even joke about touching my costume with that!" He glared at Gerard until Gee rolled his eyes, pouting slightly and turned back to his work. Johnny glared once more and then turned to Mikey. "And of course Rachele wants you to leave it out, you haven't ever landed it in competition."
Mikey nudged Gee with his knee, until Gerard looked up and smiled slightly. Satisfied, Mikey looked at Johnny and shrugged. "I know."
Johnny eyed him and Mikey stared back, expressionless. Johnny smiled. "Your program."
Gerard nodded, lifting up Mikey's costume. "Fuck yes, it's your program, and it's going to go awesome. Also, I'm finished."
Johnny eyed the dark jacket that hung from Gerard's grasp. "What. The. Fuck?" he asked slowly.
Gerard frowned and looked at the jacket more closely. "What's wrong with it? Did I miss something?" he asked, worried. He started going over the silver fastenings carefully.
Johnny's eyes widened as he watched Gerard. "You're going to look like a drummer from hell," he informed Mikey.
Mikey shrugged as his phone beeped, distracted by the new text. Gerard lifted his head from his perusal long enough to beam at Johnny. "Exactly!"
---
---
Mikey skated around the ice swiftly, pushing off and landing a perfect quad. He glided, letting his momentum bring him back around the end of the rink and coming to a rest in front of Brian. He arched his eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Brian nodded decisively. "Looks good. If you land both jumps, and keep your transitions clean, there's no reason you won't win." The edges of Mikey's mouth twitched a little into a small smile as he nodded back.
"Make sure you rest tonight. Definitely wrap that knee, and stay off it. Steal your heating pad back from Gerard and use that too," Brian started listing, and Mikey shook his head. He'd been skating for over a decade, he knew what to do before competitions. Still, he kept quiet as they skated over to the boards. He was pretty sure it made Brian feel better.
He dug in the pocket of his warm up jacket, looking for his Sidekick, once they reached the edge of the ice. He started checking his missed messages.
"Try to sleep and you're not listening are you?"
Mikey shrugged one shoulder still flipping through his messages. "Rest. Early to bed. Wrap my knee." He looked up to stare flatly at Brian. "Heating pad."
Brian rolled his eyes and stepped off the ice. "Fuck, I know you know your shit." He paused and looked back inquisitively when Mikey remained on the ice. "Well?"
Mikey hesitated, and they both turned as the locker door banged open. Pete bounced out of the locker rooms, clad in jeans and a hoodie, a pair of figure skates hooked over his shoulder.
Brian turned to glare at Mikey. "No."
Mikey shrugged, skating backwards a little out of Brian's reach. "It's free ice time," he pointed out.
Brian's glare deepened, edged with a hint of concern. "The free skate is tomorrow Mikey. You need to stay off your knee."
"It's only for a little while Brian, stop worrying. I won't do any jumps or anything. Promise," Mikey added, cutting off Brian's protest.
Brian sighed the sigh of the eternally ignored. "It's your last chance Mikey. I just don't want you blowing it because of some hot-shot snowboarder." Brian glared at Pete as he joined them, not bothering to lower his voice.
Pete grinned. "Don't say shit like that Brian, I'm going to think you don't like me."
Brian raised an eyebrow at Pete. "I don't," he said flatly. Pete's grin dropped into an exaggerated pout and Brian shook his head.
"You, don't do anything stupid." He pointed at Mikey. "And you," he said, pointing at Pete, "If he gets hurt, there will be no place for you to hide."
Pete rolled his eyes, sitting down to pull on his skates. "What the fuck, what are you, from Jersey or something?"
"Worse," Brian said seriously. "Detroit."
Pete winced appreciatively. Mikey rolled his eyes at both of them. "If you're finished with the vetting?"
Brian glared at Pete for a moment longer then nodded and bent down to unlace his skates. "No longer than an hour, Way."
Mikey rolled his eyes, but nodded. Pete bounced to his feet, nodding as well. "No worries Dad," he teased. "I've got qualifiers in a few hours anyway, can't stay too long. I'll have him back before curfew and everything."
Brian sighed and walked off towards the locker room, muttering obscenities under his breath.
Mikey and Pete watched him go and then Pete turned to Mikey with a huge grin. "Ready for me to skate circles around you, Mikeyway?" he asked, stepping on to the ice carefully.
"Yes," Mikey replied, crossing his arms across his chest and watching Pete wobble unsteadily. "I'm terrified."
Pete laughed, skating out a little, finding his balance and skating back towards Mikey. He skidded to a stop in a spray of ice and grinned at Mikey's raised eyebrow. "Hockey," he explained cheerfully.
"Uh huh," Mikey replied doubtfully.
Pete grabbed his hands and skated backwards, pulling Mikey along with him towards center ice. "Come on Mikeyway, skate with me," he grinned. He pulled Mikey closer, grabbing at his hips before Mikey bumped into him. "Didn't you used to skate pairs? You should be good at this."
"This isn't pair skating, its ice dancing," Mikey said flatly, though he allowed Pete to pull him along, one hand balancing on Pete's shoulder, the other grasping Pete's hand. "Plus, Alicia usually let me lead."
Pete snorted and grinned, skating in long slow loops backwards around the ice. He kept Mikey pulled close, fingers smoothing along the edges of Mikey's t-shirt and tracing his chilled skin. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, nodding at Mikey's Anthrax t-shirt and black warm up pants.
"Do you get cold on the slopes?" Mikey asked, instead of answering.
"Well no," Pete laughed, "but I don't snowboard in a t-shirt. Plus, I think the mountain might actually be warmer than this rink." He shivered dramatically.
The edge of Mikey's mouth turned up slightly. "You get used to it," he replied. He was feeling the cold though, so he let go of Pete and skated away quickly, letting the exercise warm up his muscles. He spun around quickly, suppressing a grin at Pete's envious expression. "You're not too bad on those," he said, nodding at Pete's figure skates.
Pete rolled his eyes. "Of course not, I grew up in Chicago, I played hockey for years," he stressed, reversing direction and skating in a circle around Mikey. He moved to turn again and tripped, falling flat on the ice with a yelp.
Mikey skated over to Pete's side and stopped easily, crossing his arms and looking down at Pete with a raised eyebrow. Pete rolled over on to his back and half glared, half pouted up at him. He couldn't quite bite back his smile. "Toe-pick."
Pete rolled his eyes and lashed out, grabbing Mikey around the legs and pulling him down on top of him. "I'll fucking toe-pick your mom!"
Mikey laughed, caught off guard, as Pete rolled them over, bracing himself on top of Mikey with one hand. He grinned up at Pete, hands grasping Pete's shoulders, fingers curled in Pete's hoodie. He ignored the cold of the ice at his back as Pete beamed down at him. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Whatever Mikeyway, you know you have no comeback," Pete laughed.
"Of course I do," Mikey said as he tightened his grip on Pete's shoulders, pulling him down and covering Pete's lips with his own. Pete's lips were a little chapped and dry and he froze for half a second before melting into Mikey, sliding his tongue to lick into Mikey's mouth. Mikey opened up for him easily, pulling Pete even closer and chasing Pete's tongue with his own.
They finally broke apart when the need for oxygen became too much. Mikey dropped his head to the ice, shivering as he realized the back of his t-shirt was soaked through and not caring in the slightest because Pete was burying his head in his shoulder, pressing kisses to his neck, and nothing in the world was going to make Mikey stop him.
"Hey, hey," Pete grinned as his kissed his way up Mikey's neck and chin, back to his lips. He kissed him for a long moment and then pulled away again, grinning so brightly his eyes sparkled. "Come watch me tonight? Half-pipe finals." He kissed Mikey again, like he was unable to stop now that they had started. "You've got to come Mikeyway."
Mikey nodded, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Brian, telling him he should be resting at the hotel the night before the free-skate, not sitting in the freezing stands on a mountain. "Wouldn't miss it," he said honestly.
Pete beamed and ducked in for another kiss.
---
---
After a bronze medal at the Torino Olympics, Mikey figured his career was over. He was still skating strong but he was also 26, two years older than Evgeni, who'd already announced his own retirement. The jumps kept getting harder and the other skaters younger. Mikey didn't make any formal announcements, but his coach dropped a few hints for him in the press. He knew he'd had a good run, even if he'd never won a gold medal.
He was skating circles at his home rink, practicing jumps and contemplating what the hell he was going to do without skating, when he noticed someone in the stands watching him. Mikey pulled his hat down lower on to his head, flipping his hood up as he skated past. He eyed the man out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop near his coffee and Sidekick.
The man walked down the steps of the stands to stand across the boards from Mikey. He raised an eyebrow as he took in Mikey's jeans and hoodie. Mikey stared expressionlessly back at him, raising his coffee to his lips as he eyed the shorter man back.
"You're Brian Schechter," Mikey commented mildly, in between sips.
Brian nodded sharply, crossing his arms across his chest. Mikey eyed his tattoos with interest. "And you're Mikey Way. You always practice in jeans?"
Mikey shrugged, grabbing his Sidekick as it vibrated and flipping the screen up. He tapped out a response, ignoring Brian's incredulous stare. "Not always," he finally replied, when he realized Brian was waiting for an answer.
Brian snorted and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck with a grin. "Yeah, you'll do," he said in amusement.
Mikey's eyebrows came together as he frowned, looking up from his phone. "Do what?"
Brian grinned, turning away and pulling out his cell phone. "You're going to win me another Olympic gold. Be at practice at four tomorrow."
"Five," Mikey replied absently, tapping out another message on his Sidekick.
Brian turned back to stare at him. Mikey looked up blankly. "What? Four AM is early."
Brian shook his head. "Christ. Four-thirty," he allowed. "I'll bring coffee."
Mikey shrugged, turning back to his phone. "OK."
---
---
Mikey felt the twinge in his knee as he landed the last triple flip in his routine, but he ignored it, pushing through the last lines of footwork before dropping into his final pose, head thrown back as the final notes to The Last Unicorn faded from the arena.
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Mikey pushed himself to his feet, skating in circles to bow to the audience. He squinted into the bright lights, attempting and failing to find his family in the audience. He bowed one last time, waving to the crowd and skated towards the boards, ducking to grab a stuffed unicorn as he did so.
The cameras were in his face immediately as he stepped off the ice and snapped the guards on to his skates. He ignored them, shrugging into his hoodie and following Brian into the Kiss and Cry. Brian clapped his hand over Mikey's shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug and glared at the cameras.
"You were fucking amazing Mikey," Brian said, pulling Mikey in a little so he wouldn't be picked up on the mics.
Mikey shrugged, fingers twitching in the pockets of his hoodie, desperate to pull out his Sidekick that kept vibrating. Brian eyed him suspiciously and nodded towards the cameras. "Say hi to your family."
"Hey Gee," Mikey said, blinking in surprise. "Um, hi Mom, Dad. Hey Alicia." He fidgeted under the bright lights and gave the camera a tiny, half-aborted wave. "Hey Pete."
Brian rolled his eyes and groaned. "Damn it Mikey..." he started, but then the scores were coming up on the screen and the crowd was screaming because Mikey had a new personal best, and was in first place with only Evgeni left to skate.
They left the Kiss and Cry as the music started for Evgeni's program. Brian left him to go watch, but Mikey found himself being tackled in an exuberant hug by Johnny. The cameras followed with interest.
"Mikey you were amazing, that was the best you've skated all season, and oh my god first place, if you don't win the judges are idiots and - "
"Holy shit Johnny, breathe, OK?" Mikey interrupted.
Johnny rolled his eyes but he stopped babbling. Ryan chose that moment to step up, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "You were great Way," Ryan said, with a tiny smirk. "Even if you did knock me off the podium."
Mikey furrowed his brow, because Ryan was currently in third, but didn't say anything. He was probably right anyway - unless Evgeni fell (and even then, more than once) he was going to get at least the bronze, which meant Ryan was off the podium in fourth.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he reached to pull it out. Of course NBC chose that moment to send their interviewer over. "Michael?" The blonde reporter asked.
"Mikey," he replied automatically, biting back a sigh.
The reporter seemed caught off guard by his flat tone, and Johnny turned away, shaking with laughter. "Mikey then," the reporter recovered. "You just had a new personal best, putting you in a firm first place. How are you feeling?"
Mikey blinked at her. "Good," he responded, glancing over her shoulder in the direction he'd seen Brian disappear off to. It was his job to keep Mikey safe from these things, so of course he was nowhere around.
She waited for a moment, until it became clear Mikey wasn't going to continue. "Any worries about Evgeni and his routine?"
"Um, no?" Mikey looked blankly at Ryan, eyes imploring, but Ryan just smirked. Johnny was clearly right about Ryan's evilness.
The reporter sighed and made a cutting motion at the camera. "Thanks Way," she said dryly as her assistant lowered the camera from his shoulder.
Mikey paused in pulling out his Sidekick. "You're welcome?"
She rolled her eyes, but whatever remark she was going to make was cut off by the roaring of the crowd as Evgeni's routine came to an end. She grabbed her assistant by his sleeve and pulled him off in the direction of the ice, Mikey forgotten. Mikey finally managed to pull out his phone, scrolling through the back-log of messages, most of which seemed to be Twitter updates by Pete --
watchin the mens free skate, cheering 4 @mikeyway @johnnygweir and @thisisryanross
loving the outfits, thinking of adding a skatingline to the clan. y/n twitterland?
@johnnygweir was robbed, the judges suck man, u had that
i belive in unicorns @mikeyway
and texts from Gerard --
found Mom and Dad. Alicia says WTF, get off your phone and skate. Frank says break a leg. But don't really OK?
Petes sitting with us. Mom already lvoes him.
Wentz and Frank are gigglinga bout something. doomed mikeyway. doomed
Mikey smiled, opening a response to Gerard's last message. He was barely two words in when the crowd roared and Johnny reappeared, jumping on Mikey's back with a hug. "You did it Mikeyway!"
Mikey blinked, staring at Johnny blankly. "What?"
Johnny laughed at him, just as Brian appeared out of the crowd and grabbed Mikey, grinning. "Shit Mikey, I knew you could do it."
Mikey looked between Brian and Johnny in shock. "What?" he repeated.
Brian rolled his eyes and hugged Mikey again before shoving him in front of the NBC cameras. "You got the gold Mikey."
His eyes widened and he got the tiniest of grins on his face. "Really?" Mikey ignored the cameras and the microphones being shoved in his face to look over at Johnny, who was beaming. "Really?"
Johnny grinned back at him. "Really."
The next few minutes passed in a blur as reporters pushed to get Mikey to answer their questions.
"How does it feel to win the gold?" The same NBC reporter from before asked.
Mikey sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "Awesome? I didn't think..." He shrugged and smiled slightly. "Is this real?"
The reporter laughed at him and nodded. She gestured at the stuffed unicorn he was still holding in one hand. "Do you believe in unicorns Mikey?"
Mikey looked down at the unicorn in surprise, having completely forgotten he still had it. He laughed a little. "Of course," he answered, looking up at the reporter. "Don't you?"
She raised an eyebrow in amusement and Brian rolled his eyes, stepping in and shoving Mikey towards the rink. "Come on Mikey, time to go get your medal."
Mikey let Brian take the unicorn from him before stepping on to the ice. He heard Brian start, "shit Mikey, your hoodie..." but it was too late and Mikey skated over to the podium, ignoring Evgeni's incredulous stare.
Once on the podium Mikey shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, squinting into the lights and trying to find his family. His eyes landed on a giant sign, puff paint letters spelling out "i less than 3 u mikeyway!" and covered in glitter. He smiled slightly, ducking his head, as Pete caught him looking and grinned, shaking the sign and waving.
Mikey ducked his head so the commissioner from the ISU could put the gold medal around his neck. He ignored the commissioner's tight smile, shaking his hand quickly then lifting the medal to examine the design more closely. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, checking the message absently.
feelz awesome, right mikeyway? knew u would do it
Mikey smiled faintly at the message from Pete. He started to type a response when the phone vibrated again.
ur on the podium mikey, put ur phone away! brians going to kill you
Mikey flushed slightly at Gerard's message, but shrugged. The music of the National Anthem started and Mikey lifted his attention from the screen to see the American flag being raised between the Russian and Japanese flags. He mouthed along to the words as he lifted his Sidekick, flicking the camera option on and taking a picture of the three flags.
oh for fucks sake... Gerard's exasperation came through even in his text message.
---
---
Mikey let himself fade out of the spotlight. He trained with Brian every day, but he refused to talk to any press and he didn't enter any competitions. Most of the skating world assumed he'd retired, and he never confirmed or denied their assumptions.
Even Johnny, who knew Mikey was still skating with a coach, assumed he'd quit. He'd teased and begged Mikey for months to come back to competing, especially as he started falling more out of favor with the skating community, and younger stars like Ryan Ross started making waves. So when Johnny showed up on his doorstep, Mikey figured it was yet another attempt to drag him back.
He didn't expect Johnny to toss his bag on to his couch and announce he was quitting.
"You? Quit?" Mikey closed his apartment door and turned to stare blankly at Johnny. "You're serious?"
Johnny scowled, throwing himself into an armchair and pulling off his gloves. "It's all jumps and perfect technique nowadays. There's no artistry Mikeyway, there's no feeling," he stressed. He glared up at Mikey and frowned. "Are you wearing your contacts off the ice?"
"No. I finally got Lasik," Mikey replied, running his hand through his hair.
Johnny looked him up and down for a moment. "Huh. You look good," he leered with a playful wink.
Mikey rolled his eyes and sat down on the arm of the chair, nudging Johnny's shoulder with his hip until Johnny grumbled but slid over to make room for Mikey to share with him.
"It's an Olympic year," Mikey pointed out after they'd sat in silence for a moment.
Johnny sighed, dropping his head back against the headrest. "I know." He picked at the seam in his jeans. "Evgeni's coming back."
"Really?" Mikey raised an eyebrow in surprise, though his voice didn't change. "I hadn't heard."
"Yes really. Which means the judges are going to be even more obsessed with jumps," Johnny pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and elbowing Mikey in the process.
"You're pouting," Mikey pointed out, distracted by his vibrating Sidekick. He got up to grab it off the counter.
"And you're ignoring my pain Mikeyway! Why are we even friends?" Johnny sighed dramatically, mood already improving. He sat up in the chair, straining to see Mikey's Sidekick. "Anyone I know?"
Mikey shook his head as he typed out a response. "Brian. My coach, he's moving practice tomorrow to the afternoon." Mikey snapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocked. "He had a date with Gee tonight, which means I really don't want to know."
"Your coach is dating your brother," Johnny repeated slowly. Mikey nodded and Johnny titled his head to the side, brows furrowing in confusion. "But isn't Gee dating that guitar player, Frank?"
Mikey winced but nodded. "Yes."
Johnny's eyes widened. "REALLY?"
Mikey shook his head. "We're not talking about this."
Johnny grinned and sat forward eagerly. "Oh no Mikeyway, I want to hear all about this." He balanced his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "Does Gee come to all your practices now? Does Frank?"
"Gee, awake before six AM? Not a chance." Johnny stared at Mikey and he sighed. "Sometimes. But only if he hasn't gone to sleep yet," Mikey stressed moving into his kitchen to poke at his coffee pot. "And Frank never comes, he refuses to acknowledge the hours before noon." He waved a mug questioningly in Johnny's direction.
"Of course," Johnny agreed, moving to lean against the partition separating the kitchen from the living room. "So, you're still practicing. With a coach, even."
"You knew that," Mikey pointed out, pouring water into the coffee maker and poking at the power button.
"Only in theory. You've been very secretive Mikeyway," Johnny glared. "I don't approve."
Mikey rolled his eyes, mouth twitching into an amused smile. "My day is ruined," he said flatly. "What can I do to earn back your good graces?"
"Come back and compete this year," Johnny answered promptly.
Mikey shrugged. "Okay."
"Mikey... wait really?"
Mikey nodded, pouring the coffee into two cups and holding one out to Johnny. "Really."
Johnny eyed Mikey suspiciously as he took his cup. "Who's your coach again?"
"Brian Schechter." Mikey poured soy milk into his cup and sipped at the coffee.
He turned away from putting the soy milk back in the fridge to Johnny staring at him with a bright gleam in his eye. "Seriously?" Johnny asked gleefully. "Two-time gold medalist Brian Schechter is your coach?"
Mikey nodded, gulping at his coffee and leaning back against his fridge. "Yes."
Johnny rubbed his hands together. "Oh my god, this is going to be amazing." He grinned and raised his coffee towards Mikey in salute. "One more season, Mikeyway. We're going to go out in style."
---
---
Pete stared up at the stage incredulously. "Are they serious? Nickelback? Really?!" He tugged on Mikey's hand while Mikey finished his text message to Gerard. "Mikey, make it stop!" He pouted, when Mikey finally looked at him.
Mikey blinked at Pete, then up at the raised stage, then back at Pete. "Who the hell is this?" he asked finally.
Pete sighed and threw up his hands. "Exactly!" he muttered, pulling out his Sidekick. He started typing away and moments later Mikey's phone started vibrating with Twitter alerts.
Johnny appeared out of the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, scowling. "Wentz, while I appreciate your thoughts on the downfall of rock music, your tweets are overwhelming the much more important issues at hand."
Pete scowled at Johnny. "What could be more important than the downfall of rock music as we know it?"
Johnny gestured to the required uniform, hand on his hip. "The absolute horror that is this uniform! I thought the Opening Ceremony uniform was bad, I had no idea."
Pete adjusted the newsboy cap so it sat at a more jaunty angle on his head. "I like the hat," he muttered.
Johnny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms with a huff. "You would. Your taste can be as bad as Ross's, I swear Wentz." He glared, taking in Pete's outfit, which consisted of the regulation white pants and a red and blue hoodie. "You're not even wearing the damn uniform!"
Ryan chose that moment to push his way out of the crowd, pulling Brendon along behind him. Ryan was dressed in the uniform, though he'd added a collection of scarves around his neck. Brendon had the pants and hat on, but he'd lost the cardigan somewhere in favor of a hoodie identical to Pete's. Johnny switched his glare from Pete to Brendon and back, and Pete shrugged.
"Snowboarder solidarity," he grinned.
Ryan rolled his eyes but Brendon just grinned, bouncing in place slightly as the music changed and Alanis started singing. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it, Weir," he laughed.
Johnny scowled and poked Mikey in the arm. "Way! Back me up."
Mikey, who'd foregone the sweater and cap completely in favor of his team warm up jacket and toque, looked up from his Sidekick in confusion. "About what?"
Pete grinned, grabbing Mikey's hand and lacing their fingers together. "Johnny's jealous."
Mikey's eyebrows creased slightly in a frown as he let Pete pull him closer. "Huh?"
Pete leaned up to kiss Mikey's jaw and the frown melted into a small smile. Johnny rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. "Oh forget it, you two are completely hopeless." He grinned at them.
The music switched again, and Brendon's eyes lit up. "Avril Lavigne!" He beamed and grabbed Ryan's hand. "Come dance with me Ryan, I love Sk8er Boi!"
Ryan rolled his eyes and sighed a put-upon sigh, but he let Brendon drag him off into the crowd. Johnny eyed Pete as he pulled Mikey closer and sighed heavily. "I'm going to find Tanith," he muttered, and flounced off.
Mikey barely registered the others leaving. He ducked his head against Pete's and smiled. "Brian's going to throw a fit if we get caught by the cameras again," he commented, eying the panning cameras above them.
Pete shrugged, pushing his hands into the back pockets of Mikey's pants and pulling him close. "So what?" he murmured, nuzzling Mikey's nose with his own and pressing a light kiss to the corner of Mikey's mouth. "I don't think we can break Twitter twice in a single week."
Mikey caught Pete's mouth with his own, kissing him breathless. He broke away to pepper kisses along Pete's jaw. "Want to try?"
Pete laughed, pulling away as both their phones started buzzing. Mikey pulled his out to see a text from Gerard and a steadily growing amount of Twitter alerts. Pete grinned at him and they both looked up to see an NBC camera hovering overhead.
"Blow them a kiss Mikeyway," Pete laughed, waving a blowing a kiss of his own towards the cameras.
"I'd rather kiss you," Mikey told Pete, grabbing him by the edges of his hoodie and pulling him closer.
Pete grinned and obliged him.
Mikey staggered into his suite in Vancouver. Thanks to the snow in the Northeast, he'd had two flights canceled and the third had been delayed. He finally managed to catch a red-eye out of Newark to Charlotte, where Brian had talked them onto a non-stop flight to Seattle. From there it was only a short hop to Vancouver but by then they'd been traveling, in some form or another, for almost 48 hours, and Mikey was exhausted.
He looked around the suite, taking in the posters on the walls, the artfully tossed blankets and pillows, and the - Mikey sniffed slightly - scented air?
"Johnny?" Mikey called curiously.
Johnny appeared in the doorway of the left bedroom, already dressed for bed - or at least lounging - in bright blue yoga pants. "Mikeyway! I thought you wouldn't get here until tomorrow." He wrinkled his nose and looked at his iPhone. "You didn't text me."
Mikey stifled a yawn, shifting his bag on his shoulder in order to pull out his Sidekick. "I was talking to Gee," he explained. "His flight was delayed, but he should be here before the Opening Ceremony." He tapped a few keys and slid the Sidekick shut. He sniffed again. "What the hell is that smell?"
Johnny looked up from his phone to glare across the room at Mikey. The effect of which was ruined slightly by the bedazzled headband he had on, but was still a rather effective bitch-glare. "Don't touch my scented candles. The suite smelled horrid when I got here two days ago. It smelled like wet dog." He shuddered. "I am not dealing with that Mikeyway; I refuse!"
Curious, Mikey took a deeper sniff, but all he could smell was the floral scent of Johnny's candles. He shrugged, turning towards the right side of the suite and froze. Mikey blinked slowly and focused on the poster on the wall. "Is that Audrey Hepburn?"
Johnny turned to look at the poster and grinned. "Yes! I love her."
Mikey stared at him incredulously for a moment. "Right. OK. I'm going to go pass out now."
"Already?" Johnny sounded disappointed, and Mikey's lips twitched in the smallest of smiles. Johnny sighed dramatically. "Fine, if you must. I suppose you do need your beauty sleep."
"Oh, fuck you," Mikey replied, rolling his eyes and moving towards his bedroom.
Johnny huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Fuck you! You didn't even mention all the hard work I did to make this place livable, except to bitch about the candles and insult Audrey! Seriously Mikey, it's like you don't love me at all. I could have had my own room in the Village, Mikeyway. I am sacrificing for you!"
Mikey turned to stare at Johnny, eyebrow raised. Johnny pouted and Mikey sighed, dropping his bag to the ground. He turned on the camera of his Sidekick, pointed it at Johnny quickly, and took a picture. Sending it to his twitter, he typed out rming w/ the biggst drama queen since gee. thx 4 sving me from Ross and clicked send.
"There, happy? I'm going to sleep now."
He grabbed his bag and pushed into his room, just as Johnny's phone chimed with the twitter alert. Mikey shook his head, yawning, as Johnny laughed in delight. Dropping his bag on the floor, Mikey fell face forward on to his bed and closed his eyes. By the time his phone chimed with a reply from Johnny, Mikey was fast asleep.
---
---
If not for Alicia, Mikey never would have put on a pair of figure skates, let alone have started competing.
He knew her from around the neighborhood roller rink, one of the few places that parents deemed safe enough in their town to let the kids hang out at. She'd latched on to him one afternoon, dragging him down with her as she fell, giggling hysterically instead of crying like he'd thought she would. After that, she kept hanging around and he kept letting her, despite the flack he caught for letting a nine year old follow him around.
After awhile she started dragging him along to her group ice skating lessons, determined that if she was going to have to freeze and be miserable for an hour, someone else would as well. Still, he didn't mind, happy to sit in the stands and listen to his Discman or play his Gameboy, grinning when Alicia skated by and made faces at the group coach, Monica, behind her back.
Once in awhile, after the other kids in the group had left, Alicia would coax and whine and complain until Mikey agreed to put on skates and race her around the ice. She liked to jump at him mid-skate, yelling "Catch me Mikeyway!"
He always caught her.
It was during one of their races that Monica called Alicia over, asking who her friend was, “that quiet young man with the long lines”.
Monica insisted Mikey was a natural on skates (which was slightly surprising, considering his general lack of grace on two feet), and that he and Alicia had chemistry on the ice. She wanted to pull Alicia out of the group lessons and start coaching them as a pair.
Mikey let Alicia do all the talking when they went to speak to his mom. He slouched against the wall, fingers tapping while Alicia laid out exactly why it was imperative that Mikey skate pairs with her, his mom's eyes getting wider and wider with every word.
"We'll be the best out there!" Alicia finally insisted at the end, with all of the stubbornness a ten year old can manage.
"Mikey, is this what you want to do?" His mom asked, turning to him with eyebrows raised skeptically.
He shrugged. It was what Alicia wanted to do, and he didn't really have an opinion either way.
His mom stared at him in disbelief and then threw her hands up in exasperation. Alicia squealed in her excitement, throwing her arms around Mrs. Way and then spinning and hugging Mikey tightly. He rolled his eyes and hugged her back, his mouth curving up slightly in a smile.
---
---
Mikey yawned as he stumbled along the path towards the USA Athletes' Lounge, and the promise of coffee. Years of early morning practices had honed his caffeine-deprived instincts, and he moved subconsciously through the throng of athletes and entourages, easily evading everyone, until he zigged when he should have zagged and bumped straight into someone headed out of the lounge.
"Hey, sorry about that!" The warm voice sounded apologetic. However the following, "are you awake?" sounded much more amused.
Through bleary eyes Mikey got a glimpse of a bright white, too-big smile and floppy hair. He muttered a vague "sorry" at the guy, still too asleep to manage anything more than single words, and moved to step around the other athlete. He could see the glowing green lights of the Starbucks sign through the lounge windows.
"No hey, whoa. Wait, here..." Mikey stopped as a Starbucks coffee was shoved towards his face. He automatically took it and breathed in the warm, nutty smell of hazelnut coffee. He took a sip, ignoring the burning on his tongue in favor of imagining the caffeine seeping into his bloodstream and waking up his brain.
He turned to say thank you to his new favorite person in the world - anyone who gave up their coffee was amazing, though possibly brain damaged - but the guy was looking at his phone and cursing.
"Late to my runs!" Coffee Guy, as Mikey's brain dubbed him, flashed another blinding smile and was gone, hurrying away across the village. He glanced back once at Mikey, grinning brightly and giving a tiny wave, before he disappeared into the crowd.
Mikey blinked, staring after him, his brain still processing at half-speed. Finally he shrugged, sipping at the free coffee, and turned, heading away from the lounge and towards the rink.
Brian was waiting for him when he arrived, arms crossed and scowling. "You're late." He glared up at Mikey from his chair by the boards.
Mikey shrugged, gulping down the rest of his coffee and sitting down to lace up his skates. "Needed coffee," he muttered, pulling up his warm ups to tighten the laces around his ankles.
"Of course you needed fucking coffee, between you and your brother Starbucks will never be in danger of going under," Brian rolled his eyes and stood. He waited until Mikey was finished tying his skates to pull him to his feet, and handed him an iced coffee. Mikey shot him a grateful look, swallowing half of it in one go and sighing happily.
"I love you."
Brian snorted and rolled his eyes. "You Ways. Your affections are so easily bought. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so sad."
Mikey blinked solemnly at Brian from over his cup. "Coffee is a serious business," he agreed.
"So's your skating." Brian stole the coffee back, ignoring Mikey's scowl. "Come on. Get your ass on the ice." He gestured toward the rink. "Go," he insisted, when Mikey didn't move.
Mikey ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face and sighed heavily. He shrugged out of his warm up jacket, pushing up the sleeves on his hoodie, "Could've let me finish my coffee, asshole. You know one cup isn't enough. All coaches are fucking sadists."
Brian nodded unrepentantly. "It's our revenge because we're bitter we can't skate anymore," he replied seriously. "Now," he put the coffee down on the bench, "You can have it back after you land 10 quads."
Mikey paused in stepping on to the ice and looked back at Brian in surprise. "We're... I... but you took the quad out for Nationals?" he asked in confusion.
Brian smirked at him, crossing his arms and leaning back on the boards. "And this is the fucking Olympics. So go. Quads. Now."
---
---
Mikey and Alicia were a strong pair on the ice. Judges were impressed by their clean performances, and their synchronized jumps. For a young pair that had started late, they quickly made a name for themselves.
They were both perfectionists in their own way. Alicia liked to push for harder jumps and more difficult combinations, practicing them over and over, even ones their coach deemed above their level. She moved gracefully between moves, jumping and twisting, before throwing herself at Mikey and trusting him to catch her, still as fearless as she had been at nine.
The jumps and combinations came easier to Mikey, so he stood around a lot, listening to his discman while Alicia argued with Monica. When their coach finally gave in to whatever Alicia wanted to try he'd shrug, skate on to the ice, and demonstrate whatever it was that Alicia wanted.
But it was tiring. They practiced daily, for hours, before and after when Alicia had school. Despite their talent, and the titles they continued to rack up at both local and regional competitions, Alicia's parents insisted she attend normal high school. Even so, they continued to compete at higher and higher levels.
Still, Mikey was surprised when, after a disappointing seventeenth place finish at the 2002 Olympics (they tried a new triple throw that landed Alicia on her ass), Alicia decided she was done with skating.
"I'm seventeen and exhausted," she told Mikey on their plane ride back to Jersey. "I'm barely passing high school, and we're not getting any better. You get it, right?"
Mikey shrugged and sipped at his coffee. "Not really," he confessed. "But OK."
Somewhere along the line, he'd really started to enjoy skating. He enjoyed being on the ice, trying new jumps and he even, though he'd never admit it to anyone, enjoyed performing for the crowd. So while he supported Alicia in all her decisions, he found himself at a bit of a loss of what to do. He didn't want to stop skating, even though now he was a pair’s skater without a partner.
---
---
"I can't believe they're making us wear this," Johnny grumbled. He tugged on the bottom of his jacket, zipping and unzipping it, trying to get it to fall in a way he liked.
Mikey tugged on his Team USA issued toque, rolled his eyes and dug in the pocket of his pants to find his Sidekick.
"No, seriously Mikeyway!" Johnny insisted. "The sweater is fantastic, and the jacket would be great if it was a little bigger, but tell me, what crack was Ralph Lauren smoking when he designed these pants?" Johnny's voice rose to an indignant squeak.
Around them, the other USA athletes laughed, well used to Johnny's antics. Most of them probably agreed with his assessment of the Opening Ceremony uniform, though they weren't as vocal.
"Why couldn't they just design us warm ups like every other country?" Johnny continued to grumble. "The 2006 uniforms weren't bad. I mean they weren't great, but..." Johnny paused and narrowed his eyes at Mikey. "You're not listening to me at all, are you?"
Mikey didn't bother looking up from where he was texting on his Sidekick. "Nope," he agreed easily, fingers tapping away. Gerard had finally arrived in Vancouver that morning, but not in time to see Mikey before he had to report with the rest of the team for the Opening Ceremony. Gerard was supposed to sit with Brian for the Ceremonies, but he was, of course, currently lost.
Johnny sighed dramatically and turned away. "I'm going to find Tanith. She'll agree with me about the uniforms."
Mikey waved his hand distractedly, barely registering Johnny rolling his eyes and flouncing off. Gerard was apparently currently surrounded by a whole crowd of people speaking Japanese and was freaking out.
"Coffee?" A semi-familiar voice asked from his side.
Mikey immediately held out his hand, and took a sip of the coffee that was placed in his hand. It was lukewarm at best, but it still tasted fantastic. Mikey made a happy noise as he took another sip, finishing his text to Gerard and finally looked up. He was greeted by a wide grin, and blinked. "I know you."
Impossibly, the smile widened. "And I know you, Mikeyway."
Mikey's eyebrows rose, "You gave me your coffee. Twice. You're either insane, or a saint." He looked the guy up and down, dressed in the Team USA uniform, though, was that a neon hoodie underneath the regulation jacket? Personally, he was leaning towards insane, but then again, coffee. He could be an insane saint.
Coffee Guy beamed at him and waggled his eyebrows. "You looked like you needed it more than me." He bounced in place as he spoke and Mikey figured this was probably true.
He took another large sip of his coffee. "Mm. Thanks." His phone beeped then, with a frantic text from Gerard - something about Belgians? - and Mikey's attention was diverted.
"It's OK. You looked like a zombie dude, and not in the cool way, not like you did in Torino with the Zombie Drummer look you had going on. That was pretty awesome, and the music! I heard you get it ‘specially composed, that's so amazing. Do you always go to the same guy? Who does your outfits? Because they're pretty sweet, though you could use more color. There are more colors in the world than black, you know that right? Of course you do, you skate against Weir. You and he are friends, aren't you -- oh here, let me take that." Coffee Guy broke off his rambling to take Mikey's empty coffee cup and disappeared.
Mikey blinked.
i thnk i hve a stlker He texted to Johnny.
Really? was the almost instantaneous response. m or f?
m. on the team 2 Mikey texted back. His phone blinked with an incoming message from Gerard, saying he'd found Brian, and their seats, and when the hell was the ceremony going to be over, he was already bored.
"Who're you texting?" Coffee Guy reappeared at his elbow, straining to see the screen around his arm and Mikey jumped in surprise.
The guy looked contrite. "Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you. We're moving by the way, time to walk and look pretty for the cameras." He grinned, tossing his bangs out of his eyes. Mikey saw he had his toque shoved in a pocket.
His phone vibrated and Mikey looked down. Our team? Even over texts Johnny sounded confused. name and sport?
His eyebrows creased slightly as he looked down at Johnny's message and back up at Coffee Guy. "What's your name?"
The guy's grin became a smirk. He grabbed Mikey's hand and bowed with a flourish, giving the back of it a kiss. Impressive, considering they were walking with the other athletes through the tunnel and out into the open arena. "Pete Wentz, snowboarder and coffee provider, at your service." He winked at Mikey, looking him up and down with a playful leer. "And I do mean at your service."
Mikey's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. He took his hand back, refocusing on his Sidekick and typing as he walked. PWentz. snobrd?
PETE WENTZ? CUUUUTE. Johnny replied instantly. A second later he got another message, this one from Gerard. brian says smle MIkey, ur on TV
Mikey looked up in surprise, belatedly realizing that they'd walked around half the arena with Team USA, and were coming to stop at their assigned position on the floor. He looked around for the TV cameras, easily spotting the hanging crane for NBC and gave it a little wave. Then he ducked his head back to his Sidekick. tell Brian to shve it
Pete pressed against Mikey's back, trying to see over his shoulder. "Who're you texting?" he pouted.
"My brother," Mikey replied, surprising himself as he leaned a little back into Pete's warmth. "And Johnny."
Pete's hand snatched out and grabbed Mikey's Sidekick. "No fucking way, I love Johnny Weir! Kid's fashion sense is fierce!" He started typing away.
Mikey stared at Pete, one eyebrow raised. Pete ignored him, grinning at whatever Johnny was saying. After a few moments Pete looked up and handed Mikey his phone back, ignoring his expression.
"He sounds awesome! And he agrees with me that Ralph Lauren is on crack," Pete grinned, bouncing in place.
Mikey rolled his eyes, silently agreeing with them, but not particularly caring either way. He sent a text message of O.o to Johnny.
Johnny responded quickly. Tanith says you cant emoticon if you dont have expressions
Mikey snorted, ready to bitch back at Tanith, but a new text popped up from an unknown number. Curious, Mikey opened it.
i red ur numbr. txt me 2 :-(
Mikey lifted his head, turning to look at Pete. Pete looked up from his own Sidekick, hopeful smile on his face, brown eyes wide. Mikey bit back a smile, but Pete caught the small motion and beamed.
---
---
No one was sure when Johnny and Mikey had become friends. They skated in the same local competitions, sectionals and regional’s, and somewhere along the line they became best friends. People were always a bit taken aback when they saw the two of them together -- the over the top Johnny Weir and the famously inexpressive Mikey Way -- but somehow it worked for them. So when Mikey found himself without an ice skating partner, Johnny was the second (Gee was always the first) person he called.
"So what's she going to do now?" Johnny asked over the phone.
Mikey opened his cabinets, trying to find his coffee filters and shrugged. "Finish high school hopefully. And then college or something. Maybe music. She doesn't know."
Johnny huffed. "And what about you Mikeyway? What are you going to do?"
Mikey shrugged again, scooping coffee into the maker and turning it on. He listened to the bubbling as the maker warmed up. "Not sure," he admitted. "I don't really want to skate with another girl." He frowned at the thought. Most of the girl ice skaters he knew were too prissy for his tastes. Alicia had never hesitated to remind him she could kick his ass.
"Come skate singles then," Johnny replied, voice rising in excitement. "My coach would take you on, I'm sure of it. Or she'll know someone."
Mikey hesitated. "I'm not..."
"Don't try that crap with me. We both know you could do the axel in your sleep." Johnny interrupted, and Mikey could picture him waving off his objections. "Actually, I think you have done it in your sleep."
Mikey got tired of waiting and grabbed the half-full pot of coffee, sticking his mug under the drip directly. "Four AM is early," he muttered defensively. He always spent the first twenty minutes of his practice time half asleep until the caffeine kicked in. His coach was constantly on his case about it.
"Well, you're an Olympian now, I'm sure you can have practice at 4:30 AM instead. Maybe even five AM," Johnny teased. "Hey! When you compete in the singles, can I design your outfit?"
"Of course not, that's Gee's job," Mikey replied automatically, taking a long sip from his coffee mug and closing his eyes.
Johnny laughed in his ear.
---
---
"Ow." Mikey said flatly as he landed on the ice. He'd flubbed the landing on his quad but tried to pull off the connecting triple anyway. Unfortunately he'd barely managed a turn and a half before crashing to the ground.
Brian skated over to him after Mikey didn't get up and circled round. "You OK?" he asked flatly, though Mikey could hear the concern in his voice after years of Brian's coaching.
Mikey sat up and nodded, wincing slightly as the muscles in his lower back protested. "Yup." He brushed ice shavings off his jeans and shook his head, trying to get it out of his hair.
"Mikeyway!" Pete's voice echoed through the mostly empty ice rink, and Mikey and Brian both looked around in surprise.
Pete was leaning over the boards grinning brightly. His hair was sticking every which way and, judging by his snowboarding jacket tossed over the bench behind him, he'd come straight from his own practice. Well not straight from - he had a steaming Starbucks cup in his hand.
"Brought you coffee Mikeyway. With soy and everything!" Pete gestured with the cup, barely keeping from spilling it on to the ice.
Mikey looked up at Brian, eyes hopeful, and Brian groaned. He grabbed Mikey's hand and pulled him to his feet, keeping him steady while Mikey stretched out the sore muscle in his back. "Five minutes."
Mikey skated off without a moment's hesitation and Brian glared after him. "I'm serious Way! Five minutes, only!"
"Hi," Mikey said, grabbing the coffee out of Pete's hand eagerly. "Thanks."
Pete beamed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and rocking back on his heels. "Of course! Hey, are you OK? I saw you fall."
Mikey shrugged, gulping at the coffee. "It happens." He eyed Pete's snowboarding pants. "Did you come straight from the mountain?"
Pete's cheeks flushed slightly, but his grin didn't dim. "Well, I stopped at the lounge first." He gestured towards his jacket, where Mikey could now see his duffel bag on the ground. "I'm gonna change, but..." he dropped his eyes, scuffing his toe against the ground. He looked up at Mikey through his eyelashes. "I thought I could watch you practice?"
Mikey surprised himself by nodding without hesitating. "Sure. I mean," he backpedelled, "if you want. My time's almost up, and I'm just working on jumps..." he trailed off as Pete grabbed his bag and grinned.
"Excellent!" Pete leaned in, kissing Mikey on the cheek and rushing off. "I'll be right back!" He headed towards the locker rooms.
The last of the coffee was cooling, so Mikey quickly gulped it down, leaving the cup balancing on the top of the boards. He skated back towards the middle of the ice, ignoring Brian's glare as he fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Quad then triple axle, right?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the ice as he skated past.
Brian rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a sigh. "Yes. Then your axel flip combination. If you think you can focus," he needled. Mikey manfully ignored him.
They spent the next twenty minutes going over his jumps. Brian wasn't satisfied that Mikey could do the combinations without falling, he wanted Mikey to be able to do them five times in a row without falling, or wobbling, or shaking, or any way but perfect. It was why Brian was such a fantastic coach, and why Mikey was at the Olympics in serious medal contention, even though he was almost 29, but that didn't stop him from entertaining murderous thoughts as he bobbled the landing on his triple flip and had to start all over again.
Mikey caught sight of Pete sitting in the stands, alternating between watching Mikey and typing away at his Sidekick. He was probably updating his Twitter - Mikey had seen the Team USA feed and almost half of the updates came from Pete. Mikey wasn't sure where Pete found so much to say. His own twitter was updated sporadically, usually only when he saw something he wanted to take a picture of, or when Johnny annoyed him into it.
Half a turn around the ice later, Mikey looked up again and Pete had been joined by Johnny. The two were grinning, gesturing wildly as they both talked with their hands. Brian followed his gaze and scowled. "Focus Mikey, or I'll ban him from practices."
Mikey snorted, rolling his eyes as he skated backwards to set up his jump, "Who? Pete or Johnny?" He pushed off and spun, barely managing the triple rotation, before landing cleanly.
Brian narrowed his eyes. "Both," he muttered sullenly. He watched Mikey pull through another triple and sighed. "Knee or back?"
"Both," Mikey said flatly, skating to a stop in front of Brian and wincing as he bent over. He rubbed his right knee gingerly, feeling the slight heat that signified the beginnings of swelling through his jeans. "Doesn't seem too bad, but it is beginning to swell."
"Well fuck," Brian sighed. He checked his watch. "Time was up five minutes ago anyway. We might as well stop."
Mikey looked around in surprise, and sure enough, Ryan Ross was standing by the entrance to the ice, arms crossed and scowling. Mikey and Brian exchanged an amused look.
"Go skate a few laps, stretch out your muscles," Brian ordered. "I'll convince the diva to wait another five." He patted Mikey on the shoulder and skated off towards Ross and his coach.
Johnny joined him on the ice as Mikey made his third lap. "Pete Wentz thinks you're hot," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Yeah?" Mikey asked flatly, but Johnny had been able to read him for year and could see the interest in the tilt of his eyebrow.
"Yup. He also thinks you need to be reminded there are other colors in the world beside black." Johnny looked at Mikey's jeans and black hoodie with a put-upon sigh. "I told him you were a lost cause."
"Hey, my costume this year is white," Mikey protested.
Johnny rolled his eyes, skating backwards so they finished Mikey's last lap. "The fact that you think that makes it better really just proves my point." He shook his head sadly. "I don't know where I went wrong with you."
They came to a stop beside the boards with a small spray of ice. Ryan Ross stared flatly at them, arms crossed over his chest. "You're late."
Johnny snorted, but Mikey simply stared back. After a moment Ross shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking away. Johnny snickered.
"Ross!" Pete joined them, slapping Ryan on the back. Ryan staggered slightly, but flashed a tiny smile in Pete's direction.
"Hey Pete."
"Brendon was looking for you this morning, you ever run into him?" Pete asked. Johnny and Mikey looked between them with interest. It was the most emotion they'd ever seen from Ross off the ice - other than disdain, that is.
Ryan nodded, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, he found me." His blush deepened as Pete waggled his eyebrows.
"Awesome!" Pete turned to Mikey and Johnny. "You guys know Ryan?" He blinked for a second and then answered his own question. "Oh, of course you do, skaters. You guys have probably known him longer than me. Maybe even longer than Brendon!" He nudged Ryan in the ribs. "Am I right?"
"We've known him for a few years," Mikey interjected, seeing Ryan blush even harder under Pete's attention. He nodded to Ryan. "Ross."
Ryan nodded back, equally as impassive. "Way." He looked past Mikey to Johnny and sneered slightly. "Weir."
Johnny smiled sweetly. "RyRo," he responded, smile growing as Ryan scowled. He pushed past them to get on to the ice, skating sharply away.
Mikey raised an eyebrow at Johnny, who tried, and failed, to look innocent. "What?"
Mikey rolled his eyes, stepping off the ice and smiling at Pete. "Hey."
Pete raised an eyebrow. "Drama on the ice?" he teased, gesturing at Johnny and past him towards Ryan. Johnny made a face at him and skated after Ryan.
Mikey shrugged, snapping the covers over his blades and walking over to his bag. He pulled a comb out of his bag, pulling his hair back from his face. "It's figure skating. There's always drama."
Pete laughed, a loud braying laugh that made Mikey grin. "Always?"
"MIKEY!!" Gerard rushed up in a panic. He steadied himself on Mikey's shoulder, gasping. "Sequins... *gasp* costume... *wheeze* ... torn..."
Mikey sighed. "Fuck Gee, cut down on the cigarettes will you?" He patted Gerard's back, holding him steady until he had his breath back.
"Fuck you and your damn athletics," Gerard finally said, glaring at Mikey. He glanced over at Pete, looked him up and down assessingly and frowned. "Who're you?"
Pete looked at Mikey with wide eyes, who shrugged, and then back at Gerard. "Um, I'm Pete."
Gerard turned wide eyes on Mikey. "That's Pete?!" he asked incredulously. Mikey flushed slightly, though his expression didn't change, and Pete started to grin.
"Oh fuck, whatever," Gerard waved it off. He pointed a finger at Pete. "We are going to have words," he glared, managing to look halfway menacing. Pete's grin dimmed a bit anyway. "But later," Gerard added. He turned and grabbed Mikey by the sleeve of his hoodie. "Mikey! Sequins! Emergency! NOW!"
Mikey waved slightly at Pete, allowing himself to be dragged off. "I told you. Always drama."
Pete's snort followed them down into the locker rooms.
Mikey shrugged Gerard off. "Let me change out of my skates Gee, fuck. What's wrong anyway?" He walked into the locker room and sat on the bench, pulling his leg up to start unlacing his skates.
Gerard paced anxiously. "The sequins on your free dance costume are coming off. We need to go get more. This is fucking Vancouver, there's got to be a fabric store around here somewhere right?"
Mikey pulled off his skates and started tying on his Chucks. "I'm sure." His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.
ill save u frm drama mway. prctice runs @ 2. cme play w/ me?
Gerard stopped in his pacing to stare at Mikey. "Holy fuck, are you smiling?"
Mikey rolled his eyes, tapping a quick response to Pete and shoving his phone back into his pocket. He climbed to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Come on Gee, we'll ask in the team lounge about the fabric store. We have to be fast though, I have to be back by two."
Gerard rolled his eyes, following Mikey out of the locker rooms and the arena. "I really, really don't want to know."
---
---
The switch from pairs to singles wasn't hard for Mikey. Weir was right. Mikey could easily do the higher difficulty jumps and spins required for singles, though he found the idea of going out in front of the audience by himself rather daunting. Not that anyone could tell.
He was already old for a singles skater, but it didn't seem to matter as he blew past the competition at Regional’s and Sectionals. Gerard recruited his friend Ray to write music for Mikey's long programs, and his originality and skill made him a judge's favorite. It also landed him a spot on the Olympic team for Torino.
Mikey sat with Johnny in their hotel room, phone out. Gerard sat cross legged on the bed next to him, heavy black fabric over his knees as he worked on adjusting Mikey's costume for his long program.
"Evgeni has a quad, you can't leave out some of your jumps," Mikey told Johnny, not looking up from his Sidekick. "You're in second place asshole, why would you lower the difficulty of your program?"
Johnny scowled down at his costume, making a minor adjustment to the shiny blue fabric. "Because. I want to, and if I'm going to win, it's going to be on my terms."
Mikey raised his eyebrow, but otherwise didn't take his eyes off the screen. "And your back hurts."
Johnny opened his mouth, frowned and then sighed. "And my back hurts," he conceded.
Mikey nodded, finally looking up from his phone and shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie. "Your program. Rachele wants me to leave my quad out." He eyed Johnny's costume. "You know Gee would do that for you. Gerard would love to get his hands on your costume."
Gerard looked up with eager eyes and gestured with his glue gun. "Hell yeah, I can help. Here-" He leaned forward, dripping hot glue on to his jeans.
Johnny's jaw dropped in horror and he pulled his costume closer to him. "Keep away with your summer camp art supplies, don't you dare even joke about touching my costume with that!" He glared at Gerard until Gee rolled his eyes, pouting slightly and turned back to his work. Johnny glared once more and then turned to Mikey. "And of course Rachele wants you to leave it out, you haven't ever landed it in competition."
Mikey nudged Gee with his knee, until Gerard looked up and smiled slightly. Satisfied, Mikey looked at Johnny and shrugged. "I know."
Johnny eyed him and Mikey stared back, expressionless. Johnny smiled. "Your program."
Gerard nodded, lifting up Mikey's costume. "Fuck yes, it's your program, and it's going to go awesome. Also, I'm finished."
Johnny eyed the dark jacket that hung from Gerard's grasp. "What. The. Fuck?" he asked slowly.
Gerard frowned and looked at the jacket more closely. "What's wrong with it? Did I miss something?" he asked, worried. He started going over the silver fastenings carefully.
Johnny's eyes widened as he watched Gerard. "You're going to look like a drummer from hell," he informed Mikey.
Mikey shrugged as his phone beeped, distracted by the new text. Gerard lifted his head from his perusal long enough to beam at Johnny. "Exactly!"
---
---
Mikey skated around the ice swiftly, pushing off and landing a perfect quad. He glided, letting his momentum bring him back around the end of the rink and coming to a rest in front of Brian. He arched his eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Brian nodded decisively. "Looks good. If you land both jumps, and keep your transitions clean, there's no reason you won't win." The edges of Mikey's mouth twitched a little into a small smile as he nodded back.
"Make sure you rest tonight. Definitely wrap that knee, and stay off it. Steal your heating pad back from Gerard and use that too," Brian started listing, and Mikey shook his head. He'd been skating for over a decade, he knew what to do before competitions. Still, he kept quiet as they skated over to the boards. He was pretty sure it made Brian feel better.
He dug in the pocket of his warm up jacket, looking for his Sidekick, once they reached the edge of the ice. He started checking his missed messages.
"Try to sleep and you're not listening are you?"
Mikey shrugged one shoulder still flipping through his messages. "Rest. Early to bed. Wrap my knee." He looked up to stare flatly at Brian. "Heating pad."
Brian rolled his eyes and stepped off the ice. "Fuck, I know you know your shit." He paused and looked back inquisitively when Mikey remained on the ice. "Well?"
Mikey hesitated, and they both turned as the locker door banged open. Pete bounced out of the locker rooms, clad in jeans and a hoodie, a pair of figure skates hooked over his shoulder.
Brian turned to glare at Mikey. "No."
Mikey shrugged, skating backwards a little out of Brian's reach. "It's free ice time," he pointed out.
Brian's glare deepened, edged with a hint of concern. "The free skate is tomorrow Mikey. You need to stay off your knee."
"It's only for a little while Brian, stop worrying. I won't do any jumps or anything. Promise," Mikey added, cutting off Brian's protest.
Brian sighed the sigh of the eternally ignored. "It's your last chance Mikey. I just don't want you blowing it because of some hot-shot snowboarder." Brian glared at Pete as he joined them, not bothering to lower his voice.
Pete grinned. "Don't say shit like that Brian, I'm going to think you don't like me."
Brian raised an eyebrow at Pete. "I don't," he said flatly. Pete's grin dropped into an exaggerated pout and Brian shook his head.
"You, don't do anything stupid." He pointed at Mikey. "And you," he said, pointing at Pete, "If he gets hurt, there will be no place for you to hide."
Pete rolled his eyes, sitting down to pull on his skates. "What the fuck, what are you, from Jersey or something?"
"Worse," Brian said seriously. "Detroit."
Pete winced appreciatively. Mikey rolled his eyes at both of them. "If you're finished with the vetting?"
Brian glared at Pete for a moment longer then nodded and bent down to unlace his skates. "No longer than an hour, Way."
Mikey rolled his eyes, but nodded. Pete bounced to his feet, nodding as well. "No worries Dad," he teased. "I've got qualifiers in a few hours anyway, can't stay too long. I'll have him back before curfew and everything."
Brian sighed and walked off towards the locker room, muttering obscenities under his breath.
Mikey and Pete watched him go and then Pete turned to Mikey with a huge grin. "Ready for me to skate circles around you, Mikeyway?" he asked, stepping on to the ice carefully.
"Yes," Mikey replied, crossing his arms across his chest and watching Pete wobble unsteadily. "I'm terrified."
Pete laughed, skating out a little, finding his balance and skating back towards Mikey. He skidded to a stop in a spray of ice and grinned at Mikey's raised eyebrow. "Hockey," he explained cheerfully.
"Uh huh," Mikey replied doubtfully.
Pete grabbed his hands and skated backwards, pulling Mikey along with him towards center ice. "Come on Mikeyway, skate with me," he grinned. He pulled Mikey closer, grabbing at his hips before Mikey bumped into him. "Didn't you used to skate pairs? You should be good at this."
"This isn't pair skating, its ice dancing," Mikey said flatly, though he allowed Pete to pull him along, one hand balancing on Pete's shoulder, the other grasping Pete's hand. "Plus, Alicia usually let me lead."
Pete snorted and grinned, skating in long slow loops backwards around the ice. He kept Mikey pulled close, fingers smoothing along the edges of Mikey's t-shirt and tracing his chilled skin. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, nodding at Mikey's Anthrax t-shirt and black warm up pants.
"Do you get cold on the slopes?" Mikey asked, instead of answering.
"Well no," Pete laughed, "but I don't snowboard in a t-shirt. Plus, I think the mountain might actually be warmer than this rink." He shivered dramatically.
The edge of Mikey's mouth turned up slightly. "You get used to it," he replied. He was feeling the cold though, so he let go of Pete and skated away quickly, letting the exercise warm up his muscles. He spun around quickly, suppressing a grin at Pete's envious expression. "You're not too bad on those," he said, nodding at Pete's figure skates.
Pete rolled his eyes. "Of course not, I grew up in Chicago, I played hockey for years," he stressed, reversing direction and skating in a circle around Mikey. He moved to turn again and tripped, falling flat on the ice with a yelp.
Mikey skated over to Pete's side and stopped easily, crossing his arms and looking down at Pete with a raised eyebrow. Pete rolled over on to his back and half glared, half pouted up at him. He couldn't quite bite back his smile. "Toe-pick."
Pete rolled his eyes and lashed out, grabbing Mikey around the legs and pulling him down on top of him. "I'll fucking toe-pick your mom!"
Mikey laughed, caught off guard, as Pete rolled them over, bracing himself on top of Mikey with one hand. He grinned up at Pete, hands grasping Pete's shoulders, fingers curled in Pete's hoodie. He ignored the cold of the ice at his back as Pete beamed down at him. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Whatever Mikeyway, you know you have no comeback," Pete laughed.
"Of course I do," Mikey said as he tightened his grip on Pete's shoulders, pulling him down and covering Pete's lips with his own. Pete's lips were a little chapped and dry and he froze for half a second before melting into Mikey, sliding his tongue to lick into Mikey's mouth. Mikey opened up for him easily, pulling Pete even closer and chasing Pete's tongue with his own.
They finally broke apart when the need for oxygen became too much. Mikey dropped his head to the ice, shivering as he realized the back of his t-shirt was soaked through and not caring in the slightest because Pete was burying his head in his shoulder, pressing kisses to his neck, and nothing in the world was going to make Mikey stop him.
"Hey, hey," Pete grinned as his kissed his way up Mikey's neck and chin, back to his lips. He kissed him for a long moment and then pulled away again, grinning so brightly his eyes sparkled. "Come watch me tonight? Half-pipe finals." He kissed Mikey again, like he was unable to stop now that they had started. "You've got to come Mikeyway."
Mikey nodded, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Brian, telling him he should be resting at the hotel the night before the free-skate, not sitting in the freezing stands on a mountain. "Wouldn't miss it," he said honestly.
Pete beamed and ducked in for another kiss.
---
---
After a bronze medal at the Torino Olympics, Mikey figured his career was over. He was still skating strong but he was also 26, two years older than Evgeni, who'd already announced his own retirement. The jumps kept getting harder and the other skaters younger. Mikey didn't make any formal announcements, but his coach dropped a few hints for him in the press. He knew he'd had a good run, even if he'd never won a gold medal.
He was skating circles at his home rink, practicing jumps and contemplating what the hell he was going to do without skating, when he noticed someone in the stands watching him. Mikey pulled his hat down lower on to his head, flipping his hood up as he skated past. He eyed the man out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop near his coffee and Sidekick.
The man walked down the steps of the stands to stand across the boards from Mikey. He raised an eyebrow as he took in Mikey's jeans and hoodie. Mikey stared expressionlessly back at him, raising his coffee to his lips as he eyed the shorter man back.
"You're Brian Schechter," Mikey commented mildly, in between sips.
Brian nodded sharply, crossing his arms across his chest. Mikey eyed his tattoos with interest. "And you're Mikey Way. You always practice in jeans?"
Mikey shrugged, grabbing his Sidekick as it vibrated and flipping the screen up. He tapped out a response, ignoring Brian's incredulous stare. "Not always," he finally replied, when he realized Brian was waiting for an answer.
Brian snorted and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck with a grin. "Yeah, you'll do," he said in amusement.
Mikey's eyebrows came together as he frowned, looking up from his phone. "Do what?"
Brian grinned, turning away and pulling out his cell phone. "You're going to win me another Olympic gold. Be at practice at four tomorrow."
"Five," Mikey replied absently, tapping out another message on his Sidekick.
Brian turned back to stare at him. Mikey looked up blankly. "What? Four AM is early."
Brian shook his head. "Christ. Four-thirty," he allowed. "I'll bring coffee."
Mikey shrugged, turning back to his phone. "OK."
---
---
Mikey felt the twinge in his knee as he landed the last triple flip in his routine, but he ignored it, pushing through the last lines of footwork before dropping into his final pose, head thrown back as the final notes to The Last Unicorn faded from the arena.
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Mikey pushed himself to his feet, skating in circles to bow to the audience. He squinted into the bright lights, attempting and failing to find his family in the audience. He bowed one last time, waving to the crowd and skated towards the boards, ducking to grab a stuffed unicorn as he did so.
The cameras were in his face immediately as he stepped off the ice and snapped the guards on to his skates. He ignored them, shrugging into his hoodie and following Brian into the Kiss and Cry. Brian clapped his hand over Mikey's shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug and glared at the cameras.
"You were fucking amazing Mikey," Brian said, pulling Mikey in a little so he wouldn't be picked up on the mics.
Mikey shrugged, fingers twitching in the pockets of his hoodie, desperate to pull out his Sidekick that kept vibrating. Brian eyed him suspiciously and nodded towards the cameras. "Say hi to your family."
"Hey Gee," Mikey said, blinking in surprise. "Um, hi Mom, Dad. Hey Alicia." He fidgeted under the bright lights and gave the camera a tiny, half-aborted wave. "Hey Pete."
Brian rolled his eyes and groaned. "Damn it Mikey..." he started, but then the scores were coming up on the screen and the crowd was screaming because Mikey had a new personal best, and was in first place with only Evgeni left to skate.
They left the Kiss and Cry as the music started for Evgeni's program. Brian left him to go watch, but Mikey found himself being tackled in an exuberant hug by Johnny. The cameras followed with interest.
"Mikey you were amazing, that was the best you've skated all season, and oh my god first place, if you don't win the judges are idiots and - "
"Holy shit Johnny, breathe, OK?" Mikey interrupted.
Johnny rolled his eyes but he stopped babbling. Ryan chose that moment to step up, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "You were great Way," Ryan said, with a tiny smirk. "Even if you did knock me off the podium."
Mikey furrowed his brow, because Ryan was currently in third, but didn't say anything. He was probably right anyway - unless Evgeni fell (and even then, more than once) he was going to get at least the bronze, which meant Ryan was off the podium in fourth.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he reached to pull it out. Of course NBC chose that moment to send their interviewer over. "Michael?" The blonde reporter asked.
"Mikey," he replied automatically, biting back a sigh.
The reporter seemed caught off guard by his flat tone, and Johnny turned away, shaking with laughter. "Mikey then," the reporter recovered. "You just had a new personal best, putting you in a firm first place. How are you feeling?"
Mikey blinked at her. "Good," he responded, glancing over her shoulder in the direction he'd seen Brian disappear off to. It was his job to keep Mikey safe from these things, so of course he was nowhere around.
She waited for a moment, until it became clear Mikey wasn't going to continue. "Any worries about Evgeni and his routine?"
"Um, no?" Mikey looked blankly at Ryan, eyes imploring, but Ryan just smirked. Johnny was clearly right about Ryan's evilness.
The reporter sighed and made a cutting motion at the camera. "Thanks Way," she said dryly as her assistant lowered the camera from his shoulder.
Mikey paused in pulling out his Sidekick. "You're welcome?"
She rolled her eyes, but whatever remark she was going to make was cut off by the roaring of the crowd as Evgeni's routine came to an end. She grabbed her assistant by his sleeve and pulled him off in the direction of the ice, Mikey forgotten. Mikey finally managed to pull out his phone, scrolling through the back-log of messages, most of which seemed to be Twitter updates by Pete --
watchin the mens free skate, cheering 4 @mikeyway @johnnygweir and @thisisryanross
loving the outfits, thinking of adding a skatingline to the clan. y/n twitterland?
@johnnygweir was robbed, the judges suck man, u had that
i belive in unicorns @mikeyway
and texts from Gerard --
found Mom and Dad. Alicia says WTF, get off your phone and skate. Frank says break a leg. But don't really OK?
Petes sitting with us. Mom already lvoes him.
Wentz and Frank are gigglinga bout something. doomed mikeyway. doomed
Mikey smiled, opening a response to Gerard's last message. He was barely two words in when the crowd roared and Johnny reappeared, jumping on Mikey's back with a hug. "You did it Mikeyway!"
Mikey blinked, staring at Johnny blankly. "What?"
Johnny laughed at him, just as Brian appeared out of the crowd and grabbed Mikey, grinning. "Shit Mikey, I knew you could do it."
Mikey looked between Brian and Johnny in shock. "What?" he repeated.
Brian rolled his eyes and hugged Mikey again before shoving him in front of the NBC cameras. "You got the gold Mikey."
His eyes widened and he got the tiniest of grins on his face. "Really?" Mikey ignored the cameras and the microphones being shoved in his face to look over at Johnny, who was beaming. "Really?"
Johnny grinned back at him. "Really."
The next few minutes passed in a blur as reporters pushed to get Mikey to answer their questions.
"How does it feel to win the gold?" The same NBC reporter from before asked.
Mikey sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "Awesome? I didn't think..." He shrugged and smiled slightly. "Is this real?"
The reporter laughed at him and nodded. She gestured at the stuffed unicorn he was still holding in one hand. "Do you believe in unicorns Mikey?"
Mikey looked down at the unicorn in surprise, having completely forgotten he still had it. He laughed a little. "Of course," he answered, looking up at the reporter. "Don't you?"
She raised an eyebrow in amusement and Brian rolled his eyes, stepping in and shoving Mikey towards the rink. "Come on Mikey, time to go get your medal."
Mikey let Brian take the unicorn from him before stepping on to the ice. He heard Brian start, "shit Mikey, your hoodie..." but it was too late and Mikey skated over to the podium, ignoring Evgeni's incredulous stare.
Once on the podium Mikey shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, squinting into the lights and trying to find his family. His eyes landed on a giant sign, puff paint letters spelling out "i less than 3 u mikeyway!" and covered in glitter. He smiled slightly, ducking his head, as Pete caught him looking and grinned, shaking the sign and waving.
Mikey ducked his head so the commissioner from the ISU could put the gold medal around his neck. He ignored the commissioner's tight smile, shaking his hand quickly then lifting the medal to examine the design more closely. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, checking the message absently.
feelz awesome, right mikeyway? knew u would do it
Mikey smiled faintly at the message from Pete. He started to type a response when the phone vibrated again.
ur on the podium mikey, put ur phone away! brians going to kill you
Mikey flushed slightly at Gerard's message, but shrugged. The music of the National Anthem started and Mikey lifted his attention from the screen to see the American flag being raised between the Russian and Japanese flags. He mouthed along to the words as he lifted his Sidekick, flicking the camera option on and taking a picture of the three flags.
oh for fucks sake... Gerard's exasperation came through even in his text message.
---
---
Mikey let himself fade out of the spotlight. He trained with Brian every day, but he refused to talk to any press and he didn't enter any competitions. Most of the skating world assumed he'd retired, and he never confirmed or denied their assumptions.
Even Johnny, who knew Mikey was still skating with a coach, assumed he'd quit. He'd teased and begged Mikey for months to come back to competing, especially as he started falling more out of favor with the skating community, and younger stars like Ryan Ross started making waves. So when Johnny showed up on his doorstep, Mikey figured it was yet another attempt to drag him back.
He didn't expect Johnny to toss his bag on to his couch and announce he was quitting.
"You? Quit?" Mikey closed his apartment door and turned to stare blankly at Johnny. "You're serious?"
Johnny scowled, throwing himself into an armchair and pulling off his gloves. "It's all jumps and perfect technique nowadays. There's no artistry Mikeyway, there's no feeling," he stressed. He glared up at Mikey and frowned. "Are you wearing your contacts off the ice?"
"No. I finally got Lasik," Mikey replied, running his hand through his hair.
Johnny looked him up and down for a moment. "Huh. You look good," he leered with a playful wink.
Mikey rolled his eyes and sat down on the arm of the chair, nudging Johnny's shoulder with his hip until Johnny grumbled but slid over to make room for Mikey to share with him.
"It's an Olympic year," Mikey pointed out after they'd sat in silence for a moment.
Johnny sighed, dropping his head back against the headrest. "I know." He picked at the seam in his jeans. "Evgeni's coming back."
"Really?" Mikey raised an eyebrow in surprise, though his voice didn't change. "I hadn't heard."
"Yes really. Which means the judges are going to be even more obsessed with jumps," Johnny pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and elbowing Mikey in the process.
"You're pouting," Mikey pointed out, distracted by his vibrating Sidekick. He got up to grab it off the counter.
"And you're ignoring my pain Mikeyway! Why are we even friends?" Johnny sighed dramatically, mood already improving. He sat up in the chair, straining to see Mikey's Sidekick. "Anyone I know?"
Mikey shook his head as he typed out a response. "Brian. My coach, he's moving practice tomorrow to the afternoon." Mikey snapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocked. "He had a date with Gee tonight, which means I really don't want to know."
"Your coach is dating your brother," Johnny repeated slowly. Mikey nodded and Johnny titled his head to the side, brows furrowing in confusion. "But isn't Gee dating that guitar player, Frank?"
Mikey winced but nodded. "Yes."
Johnny's eyes widened. "REALLY?"
Mikey shook his head. "We're not talking about this."
Johnny grinned and sat forward eagerly. "Oh no Mikeyway, I want to hear all about this." He balanced his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "Does Gee come to all your practices now? Does Frank?"
"Gee, awake before six AM? Not a chance." Johnny stared at Mikey and he sighed. "Sometimes. But only if he hasn't gone to sleep yet," Mikey stressed moving into his kitchen to poke at his coffee pot. "And Frank never comes, he refuses to acknowledge the hours before noon." He waved a mug questioningly in Johnny's direction.
"Of course," Johnny agreed, moving to lean against the partition separating the kitchen from the living room. "So, you're still practicing. With a coach, even."
"You knew that," Mikey pointed out, pouring water into the coffee maker and poking at the power button.
"Only in theory. You've been very secretive Mikeyway," Johnny glared. "I don't approve."
Mikey rolled his eyes, mouth twitching into an amused smile. "My day is ruined," he said flatly. "What can I do to earn back your good graces?"
"Come back and compete this year," Johnny answered promptly.
Mikey shrugged. "Okay."
"Mikey... wait really?"
Mikey nodded, pouring the coffee into two cups and holding one out to Johnny. "Really."
Johnny eyed Mikey suspiciously as he took his cup. "Who's your coach again?"
"Brian Schechter." Mikey poured soy milk into his cup and sipped at the coffee.
He turned away from putting the soy milk back in the fridge to Johnny staring at him with a bright gleam in his eye. "Seriously?" Johnny asked gleefully. "Two-time gold medalist Brian Schechter is your coach?"
Mikey nodded, gulping at his coffee and leaning back against his fridge. "Yes."
Johnny rubbed his hands together. "Oh my god, this is going to be amazing." He grinned and raised his coffee towards Mikey in salute. "One more season, Mikeyway. We're going to go out in style."
---
---
Pete stared up at the stage incredulously. "Are they serious? Nickelback? Really?!" He tugged on Mikey's hand while Mikey finished his text message to Gerard. "Mikey, make it stop!" He pouted, when Mikey finally looked at him.
Mikey blinked at Pete, then up at the raised stage, then back at Pete. "Who the hell is this?" he asked finally.
Pete sighed and threw up his hands. "Exactly!" he muttered, pulling out his Sidekick. He started typing away and moments later Mikey's phone started vibrating with Twitter alerts.
Johnny appeared out of the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, scowling. "Wentz, while I appreciate your thoughts on the downfall of rock music, your tweets are overwhelming the much more important issues at hand."
Pete scowled at Johnny. "What could be more important than the downfall of rock music as we know it?"
Johnny gestured to the required uniform, hand on his hip. "The absolute horror that is this uniform! I thought the Opening Ceremony uniform was bad, I had no idea."
Pete adjusted the newsboy cap so it sat at a more jaunty angle on his head. "I like the hat," he muttered.
Johnny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms with a huff. "You would. Your taste can be as bad as Ross's, I swear Wentz." He glared, taking in Pete's outfit, which consisted of the regulation white pants and a red and blue hoodie. "You're not even wearing the damn uniform!"
Ryan chose that moment to push his way out of the crowd, pulling Brendon along behind him. Ryan was dressed in the uniform, though he'd added a collection of scarves around his neck. Brendon had the pants and hat on, but he'd lost the cardigan somewhere in favor of a hoodie identical to Pete's. Johnny switched his glare from Pete to Brendon and back, and Pete shrugged.
"Snowboarder solidarity," he grinned.
Ryan rolled his eyes but Brendon just grinned, bouncing in place slightly as the music changed and Alanis started singing. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it, Weir," he laughed.
Johnny scowled and poked Mikey in the arm. "Way! Back me up."
Mikey, who'd foregone the sweater and cap completely in favor of his team warm up jacket and toque, looked up from his Sidekick in confusion. "About what?"
Pete grinned, grabbing Mikey's hand and lacing their fingers together. "Johnny's jealous."
Mikey's eyebrows creased slightly in a frown as he let Pete pull him closer. "Huh?"
Pete leaned up to kiss Mikey's jaw and the frown melted into a small smile. Johnny rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. "Oh forget it, you two are completely hopeless." He grinned at them.
The music switched again, and Brendon's eyes lit up. "Avril Lavigne!" He beamed and grabbed Ryan's hand. "Come dance with me Ryan, I love Sk8er Boi!"
Ryan rolled his eyes and sighed a put-upon sigh, but he let Brendon drag him off into the crowd. Johnny eyed Pete as he pulled Mikey closer and sighed heavily. "I'm going to find Tanith," he muttered, and flounced off.
Mikey barely registered the others leaving. He ducked his head against Pete's and smiled. "Brian's going to throw a fit if we get caught by the cameras again," he commented, eying the panning cameras above them.
Pete shrugged, pushing his hands into the back pockets of Mikey's pants and pulling him close. "So what?" he murmured, nuzzling Mikey's nose with his own and pressing a light kiss to the corner of Mikey's mouth. "I don't think we can break Twitter twice in a single week."
Mikey caught Pete's mouth with his own, kissing him breathless. He broke away to pepper kisses along Pete's jaw. "Want to try?"
Pete laughed, pulling away as both their phones started buzzing. Mikey pulled his out to see a text from Gerard and a steadily growing amount of Twitter alerts. Pete grinned at him and they both looked up to see an NBC camera hovering overhead.
"Blow them a kiss Mikeyway," Pete laughed, waving a blowing a kiss of his own towards the cameras.
"I'd rather kiss you," Mikey told Pete, grabbing him by the edges of his hoodie and pulling him closer.
Pete grinned and obliged him.