thought i saw you
title thought i saw you
rating nc-17
pairing jr celski/apolo ohno
word count 5,478
summary from this prompt at wintergameskink: JR is just a regular guy who got a job in the Olympic village and a ShortTrack fanboy. Somehow they meet. Apolo invites him over. Then there's hot sex. so idk if the sex is hot because i don't usually write sex scenes but i think i got the rest pretty well. i didn't really pay attention to the actual dates of apolo's races, sorry. to my knowledge, there wasn't an article about him in skymall, i made that up. i also have no idea whether or not uc berkeley does a winter study program, but a lot of schools do so just go with it, yeah? :]
JR doesn’t look up when the bell over the door rings.
The bell is on his mental list of things he hates about the Olympic Village, which, all things considered, is fairly long considering that JR’s taking his winter study to work here. It had taken a lot of effort, really, to convince his professors that going to Vancouver was an actual, legitimate, academic pursuit, and JR is really kind of proud of the amazing write up he’d done about the physics of short track speed skating. And then he’d gone and blown six months worth of savings getting a place that he shared with a guy named Andrew who was never actually there -a nice arrangement, even though Andrew had an annoying tendency to leave empty orange juice cartons on the fridge- and buying tickets to every short track event, so in the week before he actually left for Vancouver, he’d gotten a job at The North Face.
He’d never pictured himself working retail, but the store was right in the Village and the owner hadn’t seemed to mind that he’d only be around for a month. JR figured that was as good as he could ask for- at least he wouldn’t go back to Berkeley completely broke.
So all in all, it isn’t a bad situation. There just happen to be a lot of annoying things about the Village. Like the fact that it’s always completely overrun with photographers and press. And there are an alarming number of athletes who seem to only own their team gear. JR wonders sometimes if they even know what a pair of jeans is. But the bell is on the top of his list- it’s pitched exactly right to give him a headache and rings every time the door open, and the door opens way too often for JR’s liking. He kind of hadn’t thought about actually having to sell fleeces and windbreakers when he’d taken the job.
It isn’t entirely unusual, then, that he doesn’t look up for the twelfth time the bell rings on a Tuesday morning. He knows it’s twelve because he’s been counting- his headache progresses with each time, and he knows it’s Tuesday because the first short track event is tomorrow, Wednesday. JR already has his ticket in his pocket. It wasn’t because he was completely obsessed, he tries to convince himself. Just that maybe Andrew would actually show up at the apartment and take it. Or they could get robbed. Or he could lose it in the mess on the kitchen counter.
JR only looks up from his magazine -which, incidentally, was a copy of SkyMall with a feature on Apolo Anton Ohno. JR is not obsessed- when he hears a hanger hit the counter. He puts the magazine beside the register, folded to save his page, and takes the black, long sleeved dryskin shirt off of the hanger.
“Twenty two ninety five,” he mumbles, scanning the tag and finally looking up, and then- “Oh!”
JR glanced down at the magazine quickly. Apolo Ohno was staring at him from the page of SkyMall. He looked back up. Apolo Ohno was staring at him from the counter at the North Face store in Vancouver.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, totally, just. Sorry, man.” JR pushes the magazine under the register and hopes Ohno hasn’t seen it. “You’re- are you-“
JR finds himself frowning a little bit as Ohno’s face settles into a resigned-yet-pleasant mask and he bites his lip. “Sorry, nevermind. So.”
He releases his lip when Ohno’s face relaxes and cracks a little bit of a grin. “So what?”
JR shakes his head and feels his face heat up a little bit. “Twenty two ninety five?” he asks, the corners of his lips quirking into a grin.
“Oh, dude, yeah. Sorry, my bad,” Ohno says, and pulls out a credit card.
If JR lets his fingers brush Ohno’s a little bit when he hands the card back, well then. That’s completely coincidental.
--
The air around the rink is cold but charged with energy and JR kind of wishes he’d remembered to grab a pair of gloves from the apartment. He doesn’t have a pair of his own, because, hello, California, but he is fairly sure Andrew has a pair lying around somewhere. He isn’t exactly sure if he’d voluntarily borrow Andrew’s clothes unless it was an emergency -who knows where the dude goes all the time- but his fingers are growing steadily numb, so he figures it might be worth it.
The next heat is announced over the loudspeakers and JR is torn by being really excited and being kind of annoyed. For all that he’s in Vancouver at the Olympics, he’d probably get to see more of Apolo Ohno if he was in Berkeley on his couch. It wasn’t anyone’s fault the cameras are magnetically attracted to the guy.
But all the doubts fly out of JR’s mind when he sees Apolo take the ice. He’d sprung for pretty good tickets -it was probably the guy’s last Olympics, and then where would American short track be?- and he can see the way the skinsuit clings to Ohno’s thighs, the way he’s perfectly poised as he takes his position and waits for the starting gun. He can see the elated grin take over Ohno’s face an hour and a half later when he wins a silver medal.
JR sticks around for a bit after the race, first to talk excitedly with the guy sitting next to him, then to grab a signature from Simon Cho. He’s got his program rolled up in his back pocket and his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets -he thinks his fingertips might be blue- and he’s just kind of standing around outside the rink. He’s very much not waiting for the rest of the short track team to come out, or anything.
It’s just kind of luck when Apolo Ohno happens to open the door. JR’s kind of a lucky guy.
Well, not so lucky in that when Ohno pushed the door open, it clips his hip and JR goes awkwardly sprawling on the sidewalk, but. You win some, you lose some.
“Hey, sorry, man, here,” and all of a sudden Ohno’s squatting next to JR and kind of waving his hand in JR’s face. JR blinks a few times, confused, and then gets with the program and takes Ohno’s hand and lets the skater help him up. “I’m so sorry, shoulda looked where I was going. Totally my fault. Hey, you’re the guy from the North Face store in the Village, right?”
And also, it seems, not so lucky in that JR seems to have swallowed his tongue when he fell.
“Yeah. Yep. That’s me.”
“Sweet. Like the shirt a lot, by the way.”
“Um. Good. Good! That’s good.”
“Yeah. Well, I’d better get going,” Ohno says, grinning with half of his mouth and JR totally isn’t staring. “See you around.”
--
The next time JR sees Apolo is a Friday and it’s really, ridiculously early in the morning.
Well, maybe 7:30am doesn’t qualify as really, ridiculously early to a short track speed skater who gets up at ungodly hours on a regular basis to train, but it does to JR, who’s a nineteen year old college kid who sometimes sleeps through his 10am lectures. But he happens to have the early shift at the store on Fridays and he figures that the only way he’s going to get through this one, with the excitement of another short track race that night, is with the help of a lot of caffeine.
He isn’t exactly expecting Apolo Ohno to be standing behind him in line to get coffee -is he even allowed to get coffee? JR wonders to himself- but he isn’t exactly going to complain, either. It is kind of why he went to Vancouver.
They definitely make eye contact, but it’s a crowded place for all that it’s ass o’clock in the morning, and JR is totally not fantasizing that Ohno may have actually been going to say something before the barista taps her fingernails against the counter impatiently and the skater turns away abruptly.
The nerve of some people, really.
--
JR has basically the same seats for Friday night’s race and so, it seems, does the guy who was sitting next to him on Wednesday. His name is Mark and he is, JR thinks, really, really gay.
Not that that’s a big issue for JR or anything, as he is kind of maybe following Apolo Ohno around. Except that he’s not, it’s completely coincidental, but. The point is that he doesn’t actually care that Mark’s gay. It’s not like he hasn’t fooled around or anything. But Mark is really, really gay. Which makes all the more hilarious that he’s completely unironically wearing an imitation Apolo Ohno soul patch.
At first, JR isn’t sure how he feels about that. Sure, it’s funny. It’s really, really funny. But it’s kind of weird seeing Apolo Ohno’s signature facial hair on, well, someone else’s face. JR is also a little insulted that some other fan is showing more devotion than he is. He did move to Vancouver for the month, after all. Then he looks around and sees a lot more people wearing the Ohno soul patch. Most of them are women. JR decides to just leave it as a display of affection, patriotism, even, and take it as being ridiculous. He’s totally not jealous that he wasn’t the first one to think of it, or anything.
--
“Hey, do you make a point to hang around after every race?”
JR is not deliberately skulking. Not this time. He’s actually waiting for Mark, who disappeared into the bathroom to get the soul patch off -apparently fake beards take a lot of effort- but who promised before hand to buy JR a drink. JR isn’t really interested, but he also isn’t one to say no to free beer, although from the fleeting impression of Mark he has, JR kind of thinks he won’t be drinking beer tonight.
So he’s a little surprised to see Apolo Ohno standing in front of him instead of Mark. Right on cue, he feels his face heat up a little bit. He shakes his head to get the shaggy hair out of his face and shrugs.
"No, not really.”
“Let me guess, waiting for a friend?”
JR’s pretty positive he isn’t imagining the spark in Ohno’s eye. The cant to his hips might be wishful thinking, though. JR laughs anyway. “Yeah, actually. I’m not like, stalking you or anything, I promise.”
Except that he kind of is. Accidentally, but still.
It’s Apolo’s turn to laugh. “I’m Apolo,” he offers.
“I know,” JR says before he can stop himself, and then he bites his lip. “I mean. I’m JR.”
“Good to meet you, JR,” Apolo says, and JR gives himself full permission to call him Apolo in his head now, because they’re officially on first name basis. Then he wonders if he’s secretly turned into a fourteen year old girl.
“Yeah, back at you, man,” JR says instead of jumping up and down like he kind of wants to.
“So do you live here? I know you work in town and all,” Apolo asks, and no, JR’s definitely not imagining the cant to his hips now. He drops his shoulder to lean against the wall behind him and pushes his own hips out a little bit.
“No, actually I-“
“Hey, there you are!”
JR wants to smack Mark. He reminds himself that he doesn’t actually knowMark, and therefore that would be entirely inappropriate. Instead he tries to plaster his smile back on but it doesn’t exactly come out right and he’s pretty sure it ends up as more of a grimace. He hopes Apolo doesn’t notice.
“Ohmygod, Apolo Ohno!” Mark shuffles around until he produces his program. “Can you…”
Apolo pulls a Sharpie out of his back pocket. JR wonders briefly why he has it, because it’s kind of a douchebag move to just walk around expecting people to ask you for your autograph, but then again, he is Apolo Ohno. If JR didn’t think it would be kind of embarrassing on his part, he probably would’ve asked for the guy’s autograph the first time they met.
Mark nudges his arm and JR startles. “Huh?”
Looking like an idiot is kind of worth it if Apolo keeps giving him that half-grin, JR thinks.
“I said, let’s go get that drink,” Mark says. Oh. Right.
“Sure. Bye, Apolo,” JR says, trying not to sound too halfhearted. Mark’s a nice guy. He didn’t know that Apolo Ohno was flirting with JR. Because JR’s definitely not imagining that. There was flirting. Or, well, if there wasn’t flirting happening yet, it was going to happen in the near future.
“See you around, kid,” Apolo says, and JR likes to think his idol sounds as disappointed as he feels.
--
“So I’m thinking this is kind of fate,” Apolo says conversationally when he walks into the store on Sunday afternoon.
JR almost snorts coffee through his nose. “Sorry, what? Fate?”
"Well, I keep running into you all over the place, and you did say you weren’t stalking me, so it’s the next logical explanation,” Apolo explains, speaking slowly. JR feels like a little kid.
“I don’t think it counts as fate if you come to the store that you know I work at,” JR points out, and Apolo laughs. JR thinks he could get used to the sound. Jesus Christ, he really is turning into a fourteen year old girl.
“Point. But how about we test out my theory anyway?”
If JR was any kind of suave, he might’ve come up with a witty response. A flirtatious response, even. Anything. But JR is not any kind of suave. In fact, he’s really proud of his interactions with Apolo to date- he’s managed not to completely embarrass himself. But now he just drops his elbows the counter, leans over, and blinks at Apolo a few times.
“I just proved your theory wrong,” he says stupidly. Apolo’s forehead wrinkles. “Not. Jesus, sorry. I’m a physics major,” he offers by way of explanation. Apolo grins again.
“That’s fascinating,” he says. JR raises an eyebrow. “No, really. I’m being serious. How about you tell me more about it at dinner say, tonight?”
“So you’re not being serious, you’re just trying to pick me up.”
“That a problem?” Apolo laughs, and JR finds himself joining in.
“No, not really.”
“Good, so. Tonight. There’s an Italian place a couple blocks away from the rink, you know it?” JR nods. “See you at seven.”
All JR can do is sit and stare at Apolo’s retreating back as he leaves the store. Then he curses himself inwardly for not thinking to get Apolo’s number.
--
JR’s never been an agonizing kind of guy. He definitely never spends two hours agonizing about what he’s going to wear on a date. He’s not going to start now, so he decides to label it as pondering, not agonizing. It’s perfectly reasonable to ponder for a few hours whether he should wear the dark skinny jeans and the white t-shirt that he knows will make his ass look fantastic or the slightly looser jeans with the blue t-shirt that will make his skin look really tan.
Eventually, he decides on the dark jeans and white t-shirt. He feels a little underdressed when he shows up to the restaurant and sees Apolo wearing dark jeans and a black button down. He chalks it up to still being in college and therefore never really dating- sure, he’s gone out with a few girls (and a guy, once, freshman year) but those were more pizza parlor dates followed by halfway decent sex. To be completely honest, JR will admit to himself that the sex was better with that one guy.
Apolo doesn’t seem to notice or mind, though, and they make slightly stilted small talk over their salads.
“So do you do this often?” JR wants to clamp a hand over his mouth. He’d been doing so well, keeping most of his thoughts to himself and sticking to vanilla questions and answers.
“Do what, go to dinner?” Apolo asks, tilting his head and quirking his eyebrow. JR shakes his head. “Go to dinner with good-looking young men? ‘Cause in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of a catch.” There’s a teasing note to Apolo’s voice that makes him sound less like an asshole, so JR laughs.
“I did kind of notice,” he says, blushing. “But what I meant was, just like, do you find random guys and just take them out?”
So much for his good record of not making a fool of himself.
“Well, no, that would be kind of sleazy,” Apolo says. He’s using the slow, kind of patronizing tone he’d used in the store earlier, and JR feels like a kid again. He’s not a kid. He’s legal.
Compared to Apolo, he kind of is a kid, but JR’s kind of choosing to ignore that right now.
“But isn’t it a little weird? I mean, you don’t know me,” JR presses. His voice betrays how juvenile he feels.
“That’s why we’re here, it’s not like I took you straight back to my room,” Apolo says, grinning again.
--
Apolo kisses him on the cheek and hails him a cab after dinner. JR figures it’s because of his questioning, even though things had seemed to go smoothly after that. Either way, JR had been more than hoping that Apolo would make good on his suggestion and take him back to the athletes quarters -the short track fan in JR was excited at the prospect of getting to possibly run into other skaters, while JR’s dick had other ideas- but JR wasn’t exactly disappointed- sure, he’d gotten his hopes up, but he was a skinny college kid who really didn’t stand a chance with an Olympic athlete.
He curls up in bed and when he wakes up in the morning, he kind of thinks it was all a dream. He gets up and throws away an empty orange juice carton and goes to work. He thinks about not going to the short track race the next day, but convinces himself that that would be stupid, because he’d kind of put his entire life on hold to come to Vancouver and watch short track. There's also the slight detail that he’s kind of promised his professor a twenty page report on the physics of short track, so.
--
It’s the last day of the short track events. JR’s got all his stuff packed up and left Andrew a note on the fridge (hey man, went back to berkeley. nice knowing you, or, you know, not. don’t run out of juice now that im not here to buy more. -jr) and has turned in his resignation at the store. When he’d originally made his travel plans, he was kind of reluctant to leave before the closing ceremony, but after a few days of actually looking up every time the bell rang and looking back down with even more of a headache every time it wasn’t Apolo, JR was kind of glad to be leaving.
JR’s got his glasses on and is scribbling away in his notebook as the races go on. He’s kind of particularly interested in the relay, and it has nothing to do with how he wishes Apolo was pushing his hips instead of Simon Cho’s. Really.
Mark’s sitting next to him again, and he looks kind of puzzled at JR’s appearance -he’s wearing sweatpants and a Team USA hoodie and thick rimmed black glasses and he’s run his hand through his hair so many times he’s thinking about shaving his head- but doesn’t comment. JR appreciates that.
--
“Hey, you showed!”
JR turns around and drops his pen. Apolo bends over and picks it up and JR is not not not checking out his ass. JR coughs and wishes he wasn’t wearing his rattiest Berkeley sweats. If he was going to dress like a slacker, he could’ve at least put on the really nice dark blue ones.
“Um. Yeah, I showed. I’ve got a report to write, and uh. The relay, I needed to see the relay to finish it, so.” JR kind of lets his voice fade out. He pushes his glasses up his nose and shrugs.
“So it had nothing to do with the guy who took you to dinner, is that right?”
This time, JR isn’t even looking for the spark in Apolo’s eyes. It’s just there. And who is JR to defy fate?
“Well, maybe…”
“Good,” Apolo says, and his voice is kind of low and growly and it goes right to JR’s dick. “Because I was kinda hoping to take you home with me tonight. Well,” he laughs. “Not home, that’s kinda far away. And the dorms in the Village are kind of less than ideal for what I have in mind” JR swallows hard “so actually I guess I was hoping you’d take me home with you tonight.”
JR doesn’t need asking twice.
--
“Going somewhere?”
JR’s in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt over his head and emerges looking rather like a baby bird, with his hair sticking up in tufts and his glasses askew. He looks around the room, puzzled. Apolo points to the huge suitcase sitting in the middle of the floor.
“Home?”
“Isn’t this…?”
“No,” JR says, grinning. “I was trying to tell you, before, when Mark kind of interrupted us. I don’t live here. Well, I do, kind of, like. For now. Until tomorrow. But really I live in Berkeley-“ he pauses to gesture down at his sweats “and I’m just here for my winter study, you know, the physics thing.”
“That the only reason you’re here?” Apolo asks, tugging lightly at the waistband of JR’s sweats. JR lets himself be pulled closer to the skater.
“Well, that and the fact that I kind of love short track,” JR admits, hiding his blush in Apolo’s shoulder. Apolo laughs.
“Kinda figured that one out,” he says. “You were reading a magazine with my face on it when we met.”
“Dammit, you weren’t supposed to see that!” JR whines.
“It’s okay, I think it’s kinda cute,” Apolo whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Their faces are awfully close together, JR realizes, and then he angles his head and they kiss. He groans, and his hands pull Apolo closer, too close. They kiss hard, unforgiving. Apolo licks his way into JR’s mouth and JR groans into it, letting his hands slip up Apolo’s shirt, roaming over the vast expanse of skin now available to him, feeling the muscles flex under his fingers as Apolo moves his arms from JR’s hips around to grope his ass.
They break away after a moment, panting, and JR tries for a moment to chase Apolo’s mouth with his own. Apolo lets out a chuckle and removes one of his hands from JR’s ass to press a finger gently to JR’s lips. “Bedroom?” Apolo asks, and JR lets his hands drop from Apolo’s back to tug him by the beltloops towards his bedroom.
They fall on the bed, rolling over and over as they claw at clothing. Apolo’s shirt falls off near the kitchen, JR’s in the doorway of the bedroom. He tugs harder and Apolo falls on top of JR, grinning and shuffling down his body to mouth at JR’s collarbones. A thrill goes through JR when he feels Apolo’s heavily muscled thigh sliding between his legs, and he moans, low and guttural, as he thrusts his hips against Apolo’s thigh.
“God, yes,” Apolo breathes, moving still further down to fix his lips around JR’s nipple, sucking and biting gently. JR arches against him, his fingers flying down to tangle in Apolo’s long hair, tugging at the bandana. Apolo moves back up JR’s body to kiss him again, fucking into JR’s mouth with his tongue.
JR’s hands fall to Apolo’s hips, pushing fruitlessly at the skater’s jeans. Apolo breaks away from JR’s lips to pop the button himself, shimmying out of them and making sure to let his thigh brush the bulge in JR’s sweats.
“Wanna fuck you,” Apolo breathes, and JR nods, pushing now at his own sweatpants, trying to get them off his hips.
“Yes, yes, come on ‘polo,” he groans, bucking as Apolo reaches down to tug his sweats past his feet, off off off.
Apolo jerks him quickly, using the beads of precum collected at the head to slick his hand. JR thrusts shallowly up into Apolo’s grip, whining when Apolo pulls away to rummage in his pants pocket for lube and a condom.
“Planned this?”
“Maybe,” Apolo murmurs, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses to JR’s hipbones as he returns to settle between JR’s legs.
JR grunts as he feels Apolo’s finger, slick with lube, circle his entrance and push in, steadily past the ring of muscle. He bites his lip and Apolo twists the finger inside him and pulls out, only to add a second. JR pushes back, hissing at the slight burn -it had been a while- and relishing the stretch. Three fingers and JR whines, fucking himself back on Apolo’s hand.
“Turn over,” Apolo whispers, but there’s no question about it, so when Apolo’s fingers slip out, JR rolls onto his front, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“Now, come on, ‘polo, please,” he pants, and is rewarded when he hears Apolo open the condom packet. Apolo jerks himself once, twice, then rolls the condom on, lining himself up at JR’s entrance.
“Want this?” he grunts, and JR pushes his hips back impatiently.
“Yes, asshole, come on, fuck me, do it,” he answers, twisting his hips.
Apolo’s hands come to rest on his hips and JR groans as Apolo pushes in, one long, smooth thrust until he’s fully encased in JR. “Okay?” he asks, and JR nods, sweat beading at the back of his neck. Apolo starts to move, shallowly thrusting in and out, before JR grunts heavily and pushes his hips back hard, forcing Apolo in deeper.
“Come on, harder,” he groans, and Apolo acquiesces, adjusting his grip on JR’s hips to pull out all the way only to slam back in. “Fuck, yeah, come on, harder, god, so good.” JR reaches down to palm his cock, jacking himself quickly. One of Apolo’s hands releases its grip on JR’s hips to roam over the younger man’s back. He reaches up to twist his fingers in JR’s hair, turning the boy’s head, and Apolo drapes his entire body over JR’s, mouthing kisses at JR’s jawline before moving to his mouth and fucking his tongue in to JR’s mouth in the same rhythm as he was pounding into JR’s ass.
“Come on, come for me,” Apolo moans, breaking away from JR’s lips to pant for breath, and he slides his hand down to knock JR’s hand away from his dick. It only takes a few quick strokes before JR’s coming in hot spurts over Apolo’s hand.
Apolo slows his thrusts, pulling all the way out and pushing back in slowly. JR moans underneath him, pushing his ass back at Apolo, and it only takes a few more thrusts and then Apolo’s shooting hard into the latex.
--
To be completely honest, JR’s a little surprised when he wakes up and Apolo’s curled against him, their legs tangled under the sheets. He’d kind of been expecting Apolo to leave sometime after the sex, but the skater had just- stayed. Stayed and slept in JR’s bed and stayed there until the next morning.
JR sits up and runs a hand through his hair before checking his watch and cursing under his breath. He looks over and Apolo is still sleeping.
And Apolo is still sleeping, even after JR’s gotten dressed and eaten a banana. JR goes back into the room and sits down on the bed. Apolo doesn’t move. He reaches over and shakes Apolo’s shoulder gently.
It’s kind of adorable, JR thinks, how Apolo blinks a few times and licks his lips and squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again and looking at him fully. It’s also kind of sad that JR wants to learn the rest of Apolo waking up, and also maybe Apolo falling asleep, and Apolo eating dinner, and Jesus Christ, it’s official, JR is a teenage girl. He wonders how his parents will take the news.
“Hey man, I gotta go to the airport which kinda means you need to leave, otherwise Andrew might find you here and since I’ve only met the guy like, twice, I don’t really know what he’d do so better safe than sorry, right?”
Apolo sits up and JR totally doesn’t stare at the way his abs shift with the motion. But then again, maybe he’s allowed to openly check out Apolo now. It’s only fair, really.
“Mind giving me a ride back to the Village on your way?”
--
It’s a short car ride, and JR isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, it’s probably a good thing because it’s Andrew’s car, and while Andrew’s always out somewhere, his car’s always in the garage, and it has some pizza boxes in the back seat that JR’s pretty sure are roughly his age. On the other hand, it’s kind of a bad thing because it means he only gets about ten more minutes with Apolo.
JR pulls up at the Village and lets the car idle, waiting for Apolo to say something. It’s not that he doesn’t have a million things to say himself, but he figures he’d better let Apolo go first, to minimize the embarrassment, if nothing else.
“So you’re in Berkeley, right?”
JR blinks. That isn’t exactly the question he was preparing himself for, although he’s slowly but surely learning that Apolo is full of surprises. “Yeah, that’s where I go to school, so.”
“Sweet. I’m out in Seattle, so you know, maybe I’ll come visit sometime? If that’s cool.”
“Wait, seriously? You want to come visit me?”
Apolo laughs. “Dude. If I just wanted to sleep with you, I wouldn’t have like. Wooed you. I could’ve just gone to a club for that.”
“You wooed me? Sorry I didn’t get the memo,” JR says, trying out a shaky laugh.
“Dinner?”
“Well you kinda left me hanging there, I thought, I don’t know, that you weren’t into it or something,” JR mumbles, blushing again.
“What? No! I had to wait until my events were over, but. No, I’m definitely interested.”
“Well. Yeah, definitely, come visit whenever,” JR says, his words tripping over each other on the way out of his mouth. He lets Apolo punch his number into his cell phone and drop a kiss onto his lips as he climbs out of the car.
“You think I won’t,” Apolo says before he closes the door. “But I will. Just you wait.”
--
JR doesn’t look up from his computer when he hears the door close.
His computer, at the moment, is not on his top ten things he likes about Berkeley list right now, mainly because he’s got an English paper to write and all the computer is showing him is a blank word document. JR hates general education requirements. He’s been sitting in the same position for the better part of two hours, ignoring his cell phone and staring resolutely at the screen, willing words to come up on the document, but apparently his computer’s about as interested in Shakespeare as he is. That is to say, not at all.
So JR’s a little surprised when Apolo closes the laptop and moves it onto the coffee table, taking its place on JR’s lap, but it’s not a bad situation, really, because he has his boyfriend sitting on his lap, and hey, maybe Apolo knows something about Shakespeare. JR makes a mental note to ask him, but it’ll have to wait until later because Apolo’s warm weight is really kind of nice and very distracting.
“Didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow,” he mumbles into Apolo’s collarbone.
“I texted you, stupid,” Apolo replies, tugging on JR’s hair until JR looks up at him. “But I guess you were a little preoccupied.”
“Yeah,” JR mumbles, dropping his gaze to Apolo’s lips and feeling his stomach bottom out. “You’ll have to tell me something about Shakespeare later.”
“Well,” Apolo says, grinning cheekily and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of JR’s lips, “I know there’s a sex scene in Othello and I’m thinking maybe I can give you a practical demonstration…”
“Sounds good.”
fin.
rating nc-17
pairing jr celski/apolo ohno
word count 5,478
summary from this prompt at wintergameskink: JR is just a regular guy who got a job in the Olympic village and a ShortTrack fanboy. Somehow they meet. Apolo invites him over. Then there's hot sex. so idk if the sex is hot because i don't usually write sex scenes but i think i got the rest pretty well. i didn't really pay attention to the actual dates of apolo's races, sorry. to my knowledge, there wasn't an article about him in skymall, i made that up. i also have no idea whether or not uc berkeley does a winter study program, but a lot of schools do so just go with it, yeah? :]
JR doesn’t look up when the bell over the door rings.
The bell is on his mental list of things he hates about the Olympic Village, which, all things considered, is fairly long considering that JR’s taking his winter study to work here. It had taken a lot of effort, really, to convince his professors that going to Vancouver was an actual, legitimate, academic pursuit, and JR is really kind of proud of the amazing write up he’d done about the physics of short track speed skating. And then he’d gone and blown six months worth of savings getting a place that he shared with a guy named Andrew who was never actually there -a nice arrangement, even though Andrew had an annoying tendency to leave empty orange juice cartons on the fridge- and buying tickets to every short track event, so in the week before he actually left for Vancouver, he’d gotten a job at The North Face.
He’d never pictured himself working retail, but the store was right in the Village and the owner hadn’t seemed to mind that he’d only be around for a month. JR figured that was as good as he could ask for- at least he wouldn’t go back to Berkeley completely broke.
So all in all, it isn’t a bad situation. There just happen to be a lot of annoying things about the Village. Like the fact that it’s always completely overrun with photographers and press. And there are an alarming number of athletes who seem to only own their team gear. JR wonders sometimes if they even know what a pair of jeans is. But the bell is on the top of his list- it’s pitched exactly right to give him a headache and rings every time the door open, and the door opens way too often for JR’s liking. He kind of hadn’t thought about actually having to sell fleeces and windbreakers when he’d taken the job.
It isn’t entirely unusual, then, that he doesn’t look up for the twelfth time the bell rings on a Tuesday morning. He knows it’s twelve because he’s been counting- his headache progresses with each time, and he knows it’s Tuesday because the first short track event is tomorrow, Wednesday. JR already has his ticket in his pocket. It wasn’t because he was completely obsessed, he tries to convince himself. Just that maybe Andrew would actually show up at the apartment and take it. Or they could get robbed. Or he could lose it in the mess on the kitchen counter.
JR only looks up from his magazine -which, incidentally, was a copy of SkyMall with a feature on Apolo Anton Ohno. JR is not obsessed- when he hears a hanger hit the counter. He puts the magazine beside the register, folded to save his page, and takes the black, long sleeved dryskin shirt off of the hanger.
“Twenty two ninety five,” he mumbles, scanning the tag and finally looking up, and then- “Oh!”
JR glanced down at the magazine quickly. Apolo Ohno was staring at him from the page of SkyMall. He looked back up. Apolo Ohno was staring at him from the counter at the North Face store in Vancouver.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, totally, just. Sorry, man.” JR pushes the magazine under the register and hopes Ohno hasn’t seen it. “You’re- are you-“
JR finds himself frowning a little bit as Ohno’s face settles into a resigned-yet-pleasant mask and he bites his lip. “Sorry, nevermind. So.”
He releases his lip when Ohno’s face relaxes and cracks a little bit of a grin. “So what?”
JR shakes his head and feels his face heat up a little bit. “Twenty two ninety five?” he asks, the corners of his lips quirking into a grin.
“Oh, dude, yeah. Sorry, my bad,” Ohno says, and pulls out a credit card.
If JR lets his fingers brush Ohno’s a little bit when he hands the card back, well then. That’s completely coincidental.
--
The air around the rink is cold but charged with energy and JR kind of wishes he’d remembered to grab a pair of gloves from the apartment. He doesn’t have a pair of his own, because, hello, California, but he is fairly sure Andrew has a pair lying around somewhere. He isn’t exactly sure if he’d voluntarily borrow Andrew’s clothes unless it was an emergency -who knows where the dude goes all the time- but his fingers are growing steadily numb, so he figures it might be worth it.
The next heat is announced over the loudspeakers and JR is torn by being really excited and being kind of annoyed. For all that he’s in Vancouver at the Olympics, he’d probably get to see more of Apolo Ohno if he was in Berkeley on his couch. It wasn’t anyone’s fault the cameras are magnetically attracted to the guy.
But all the doubts fly out of JR’s mind when he sees Apolo take the ice. He’d sprung for pretty good tickets -it was probably the guy’s last Olympics, and then where would American short track be?- and he can see the way the skinsuit clings to Ohno’s thighs, the way he’s perfectly poised as he takes his position and waits for the starting gun. He can see the elated grin take over Ohno’s face an hour and a half later when he wins a silver medal.
JR sticks around for a bit after the race, first to talk excitedly with the guy sitting next to him, then to grab a signature from Simon Cho. He’s got his program rolled up in his back pocket and his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets -he thinks his fingertips might be blue- and he’s just kind of standing around outside the rink. He’s very much not waiting for the rest of the short track team to come out, or anything.
It’s just kind of luck when Apolo Ohno happens to open the door. JR’s kind of a lucky guy.
Well, not so lucky in that when Ohno pushed the door open, it clips his hip and JR goes awkwardly sprawling on the sidewalk, but. You win some, you lose some.
“Hey, sorry, man, here,” and all of a sudden Ohno’s squatting next to JR and kind of waving his hand in JR’s face. JR blinks a few times, confused, and then gets with the program and takes Ohno’s hand and lets the skater help him up. “I’m so sorry, shoulda looked where I was going. Totally my fault. Hey, you’re the guy from the North Face store in the Village, right?”
And also, it seems, not so lucky in that JR seems to have swallowed his tongue when he fell.
“Yeah. Yep. That’s me.”
“Sweet. Like the shirt a lot, by the way.”
“Um. Good. Good! That’s good.”
“Yeah. Well, I’d better get going,” Ohno says, grinning with half of his mouth and JR totally isn’t staring. “See you around.”
--
The next time JR sees Apolo is a Friday and it’s really, ridiculously early in the morning.
Well, maybe 7:30am doesn’t qualify as really, ridiculously early to a short track speed skater who gets up at ungodly hours on a regular basis to train, but it does to JR, who’s a nineteen year old college kid who sometimes sleeps through his 10am lectures. But he happens to have the early shift at the store on Fridays and he figures that the only way he’s going to get through this one, with the excitement of another short track race that night, is with the help of a lot of caffeine.
He isn’t exactly expecting Apolo Ohno to be standing behind him in line to get coffee -is he even allowed to get coffee? JR wonders to himself- but he isn’t exactly going to complain, either. It is kind of why he went to Vancouver.
They definitely make eye contact, but it’s a crowded place for all that it’s ass o’clock in the morning, and JR is totally not fantasizing that Ohno may have actually been going to say something before the barista taps her fingernails against the counter impatiently and the skater turns away abruptly.
The nerve of some people, really.
--
JR has basically the same seats for Friday night’s race and so, it seems, does the guy who was sitting next to him on Wednesday. His name is Mark and he is, JR thinks, really, really gay.
Not that that’s a big issue for JR or anything, as he is kind of maybe following Apolo Ohno around. Except that he’s not, it’s completely coincidental, but. The point is that he doesn’t actually care that Mark’s gay. It’s not like he hasn’t fooled around or anything. But Mark is really, really gay. Which makes all the more hilarious that he’s completely unironically wearing an imitation Apolo Ohno soul patch.
At first, JR isn’t sure how he feels about that. Sure, it’s funny. It’s really, really funny. But it’s kind of weird seeing Apolo Ohno’s signature facial hair on, well, someone else’s face. JR is also a little insulted that some other fan is showing more devotion than he is. He did move to Vancouver for the month, after all. Then he looks around and sees a lot more people wearing the Ohno soul patch. Most of them are women. JR decides to just leave it as a display of affection, patriotism, even, and take it as being ridiculous. He’s totally not jealous that he wasn’t the first one to think of it, or anything.
--
“Hey, do you make a point to hang around after every race?”
JR is not deliberately skulking. Not this time. He’s actually waiting for Mark, who disappeared into the bathroom to get the soul patch off -apparently fake beards take a lot of effort- but who promised before hand to buy JR a drink. JR isn’t really interested, but he also isn’t one to say no to free beer, although from the fleeting impression of Mark he has, JR kind of thinks he won’t be drinking beer tonight.
So he’s a little surprised to see Apolo Ohno standing in front of him instead of Mark. Right on cue, he feels his face heat up a little bit. He shakes his head to get the shaggy hair out of his face and shrugs.
"No, not really.”
“Let me guess, waiting for a friend?”
JR’s pretty positive he isn’t imagining the spark in Ohno’s eye. The cant to his hips might be wishful thinking, though. JR laughs anyway. “Yeah, actually. I’m not like, stalking you or anything, I promise.”
Except that he kind of is. Accidentally, but still.
It’s Apolo’s turn to laugh. “I’m Apolo,” he offers.
“I know,” JR says before he can stop himself, and then he bites his lip. “I mean. I’m JR.”
“Good to meet you, JR,” Apolo says, and JR gives himself full permission to call him Apolo in his head now, because they’re officially on first name basis. Then he wonders if he’s secretly turned into a fourteen year old girl.
“Yeah, back at you, man,” JR says instead of jumping up and down like he kind of wants to.
“So do you live here? I know you work in town and all,” Apolo asks, and no, JR’s definitely not imagining the cant to his hips now. He drops his shoulder to lean against the wall behind him and pushes his own hips out a little bit.
“No, actually I-“
“Hey, there you are!”
JR wants to smack Mark. He reminds himself that he doesn’t actually knowMark, and therefore that would be entirely inappropriate. Instead he tries to plaster his smile back on but it doesn’t exactly come out right and he’s pretty sure it ends up as more of a grimace. He hopes Apolo doesn’t notice.
“Ohmygod, Apolo Ohno!” Mark shuffles around until he produces his program. “Can you…”
Apolo pulls a Sharpie out of his back pocket. JR wonders briefly why he has it, because it’s kind of a douchebag move to just walk around expecting people to ask you for your autograph, but then again, he is Apolo Ohno. If JR didn’t think it would be kind of embarrassing on his part, he probably would’ve asked for the guy’s autograph the first time they met.
Mark nudges his arm and JR startles. “Huh?”
Looking like an idiot is kind of worth it if Apolo keeps giving him that half-grin, JR thinks.
“I said, let’s go get that drink,” Mark says. Oh. Right.
“Sure. Bye, Apolo,” JR says, trying not to sound too halfhearted. Mark’s a nice guy. He didn’t know that Apolo Ohno was flirting with JR. Because JR’s definitely not imagining that. There was flirting. Or, well, if there wasn’t flirting happening yet, it was going to happen in the near future.
“See you around, kid,” Apolo says, and JR likes to think his idol sounds as disappointed as he feels.
--
“So I’m thinking this is kind of fate,” Apolo says conversationally when he walks into the store on Sunday afternoon.
JR almost snorts coffee through his nose. “Sorry, what? Fate?”
"Well, I keep running into you all over the place, and you did say you weren’t stalking me, so it’s the next logical explanation,” Apolo explains, speaking slowly. JR feels like a little kid.
“I don’t think it counts as fate if you come to the store that you know I work at,” JR points out, and Apolo laughs. JR thinks he could get used to the sound. Jesus Christ, he really is turning into a fourteen year old girl.
“Point. But how about we test out my theory anyway?”
If JR was any kind of suave, he might’ve come up with a witty response. A flirtatious response, even. Anything. But JR is not any kind of suave. In fact, he’s really proud of his interactions with Apolo to date- he’s managed not to completely embarrass himself. But now he just drops his elbows the counter, leans over, and blinks at Apolo a few times.
“I just proved your theory wrong,” he says stupidly. Apolo’s forehead wrinkles. “Not. Jesus, sorry. I’m a physics major,” he offers by way of explanation. Apolo grins again.
“That’s fascinating,” he says. JR raises an eyebrow. “No, really. I’m being serious. How about you tell me more about it at dinner say, tonight?”
“So you’re not being serious, you’re just trying to pick me up.”
“That a problem?” Apolo laughs, and JR finds himself joining in.
“No, not really.”
“Good, so. Tonight. There’s an Italian place a couple blocks away from the rink, you know it?” JR nods. “See you at seven.”
All JR can do is sit and stare at Apolo’s retreating back as he leaves the store. Then he curses himself inwardly for not thinking to get Apolo’s number.
--
JR’s never been an agonizing kind of guy. He definitely never spends two hours agonizing about what he’s going to wear on a date. He’s not going to start now, so he decides to label it as pondering, not agonizing. It’s perfectly reasonable to ponder for a few hours whether he should wear the dark skinny jeans and the white t-shirt that he knows will make his ass look fantastic or the slightly looser jeans with the blue t-shirt that will make his skin look really tan.
Eventually, he decides on the dark jeans and white t-shirt. He feels a little underdressed when he shows up to the restaurant and sees Apolo wearing dark jeans and a black button down. He chalks it up to still being in college and therefore never really dating- sure, he’s gone out with a few girls (and a guy, once, freshman year) but those were more pizza parlor dates followed by halfway decent sex. To be completely honest, JR will admit to himself that the sex was better with that one guy.
Apolo doesn’t seem to notice or mind, though, and they make slightly stilted small talk over their salads.
“So do you do this often?” JR wants to clamp a hand over his mouth. He’d been doing so well, keeping most of his thoughts to himself and sticking to vanilla questions and answers.
“Do what, go to dinner?” Apolo asks, tilting his head and quirking his eyebrow. JR shakes his head. “Go to dinner with good-looking young men? ‘Cause in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of a catch.” There’s a teasing note to Apolo’s voice that makes him sound less like an asshole, so JR laughs.
“I did kind of notice,” he says, blushing. “But what I meant was, just like, do you find random guys and just take them out?”
So much for his good record of not making a fool of himself.
“Well, no, that would be kind of sleazy,” Apolo says. He’s using the slow, kind of patronizing tone he’d used in the store earlier, and JR feels like a kid again. He’s not a kid. He’s legal.
Compared to Apolo, he kind of is a kid, but JR’s kind of choosing to ignore that right now.
“But isn’t it a little weird? I mean, you don’t know me,” JR presses. His voice betrays how juvenile he feels.
“That’s why we’re here, it’s not like I took you straight back to my room,” Apolo says, grinning again.
--
Apolo kisses him on the cheek and hails him a cab after dinner. JR figures it’s because of his questioning, even though things had seemed to go smoothly after that. Either way, JR had been more than hoping that Apolo would make good on his suggestion and take him back to the athletes quarters -the short track fan in JR was excited at the prospect of getting to possibly run into other skaters, while JR’s dick had other ideas- but JR wasn’t exactly disappointed- sure, he’d gotten his hopes up, but he was a skinny college kid who really didn’t stand a chance with an Olympic athlete.
He curls up in bed and when he wakes up in the morning, he kind of thinks it was all a dream. He gets up and throws away an empty orange juice carton and goes to work. He thinks about not going to the short track race the next day, but convinces himself that that would be stupid, because he’d kind of put his entire life on hold to come to Vancouver and watch short track. There's also the slight detail that he’s kind of promised his professor a twenty page report on the physics of short track, so.
--
It’s the last day of the short track events. JR’s got all his stuff packed up and left Andrew a note on the fridge (hey man, went back to berkeley. nice knowing you, or, you know, not. don’t run out of juice now that im not here to buy more. -jr) and has turned in his resignation at the store. When he’d originally made his travel plans, he was kind of reluctant to leave before the closing ceremony, but after a few days of actually looking up every time the bell rang and looking back down with even more of a headache every time it wasn’t Apolo, JR was kind of glad to be leaving.
JR’s got his glasses on and is scribbling away in his notebook as the races go on. He’s kind of particularly interested in the relay, and it has nothing to do with how he wishes Apolo was pushing his hips instead of Simon Cho’s. Really.
Mark’s sitting next to him again, and he looks kind of puzzled at JR’s appearance -he’s wearing sweatpants and a Team USA hoodie and thick rimmed black glasses and he’s run his hand through his hair so many times he’s thinking about shaving his head- but doesn’t comment. JR appreciates that.
--
“Hey, you showed!”
JR turns around and drops his pen. Apolo bends over and picks it up and JR is not not not checking out his ass. JR coughs and wishes he wasn’t wearing his rattiest Berkeley sweats. If he was going to dress like a slacker, he could’ve at least put on the really nice dark blue ones.
“Um. Yeah, I showed. I’ve got a report to write, and uh. The relay, I needed to see the relay to finish it, so.” JR kind of lets his voice fade out. He pushes his glasses up his nose and shrugs.
“So it had nothing to do with the guy who took you to dinner, is that right?”
This time, JR isn’t even looking for the spark in Apolo’s eyes. It’s just there. And who is JR to defy fate?
“Well, maybe…”
“Good,” Apolo says, and his voice is kind of low and growly and it goes right to JR’s dick. “Because I was kinda hoping to take you home with me tonight. Well,” he laughs. “Not home, that’s kinda far away. And the dorms in the Village are kind of less than ideal for what I have in mind” JR swallows hard “so actually I guess I was hoping you’d take me home with you tonight.”
JR doesn’t need asking twice.
--
“Going somewhere?”
JR’s in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt over his head and emerges looking rather like a baby bird, with his hair sticking up in tufts and his glasses askew. He looks around the room, puzzled. Apolo points to the huge suitcase sitting in the middle of the floor.
“Home?”
“Isn’t this…?”
“No,” JR says, grinning. “I was trying to tell you, before, when Mark kind of interrupted us. I don’t live here. Well, I do, kind of, like. For now. Until tomorrow. But really I live in Berkeley-“ he pauses to gesture down at his sweats “and I’m just here for my winter study, you know, the physics thing.”
“That the only reason you’re here?” Apolo asks, tugging lightly at the waistband of JR’s sweats. JR lets himself be pulled closer to the skater.
“Well, that and the fact that I kind of love short track,” JR admits, hiding his blush in Apolo’s shoulder. Apolo laughs.
“Kinda figured that one out,” he says. “You were reading a magazine with my face on it when we met.”
“Dammit, you weren’t supposed to see that!” JR whines.
“It’s okay, I think it’s kinda cute,” Apolo whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Their faces are awfully close together, JR realizes, and then he angles his head and they kiss. He groans, and his hands pull Apolo closer, too close. They kiss hard, unforgiving. Apolo licks his way into JR’s mouth and JR groans into it, letting his hands slip up Apolo’s shirt, roaming over the vast expanse of skin now available to him, feeling the muscles flex under his fingers as Apolo moves his arms from JR’s hips around to grope his ass.
They break away after a moment, panting, and JR tries for a moment to chase Apolo’s mouth with his own. Apolo lets out a chuckle and removes one of his hands from JR’s ass to press a finger gently to JR’s lips. “Bedroom?” Apolo asks, and JR lets his hands drop from Apolo’s back to tug him by the beltloops towards his bedroom.
They fall on the bed, rolling over and over as they claw at clothing. Apolo’s shirt falls off near the kitchen, JR’s in the doorway of the bedroom. He tugs harder and Apolo falls on top of JR, grinning and shuffling down his body to mouth at JR’s collarbones. A thrill goes through JR when he feels Apolo’s heavily muscled thigh sliding between his legs, and he moans, low and guttural, as he thrusts his hips against Apolo’s thigh.
“God, yes,” Apolo breathes, moving still further down to fix his lips around JR’s nipple, sucking and biting gently. JR arches against him, his fingers flying down to tangle in Apolo’s long hair, tugging at the bandana. Apolo moves back up JR’s body to kiss him again, fucking into JR’s mouth with his tongue.
JR’s hands fall to Apolo’s hips, pushing fruitlessly at the skater’s jeans. Apolo breaks away from JR’s lips to pop the button himself, shimmying out of them and making sure to let his thigh brush the bulge in JR’s sweats.
“Wanna fuck you,” Apolo breathes, and JR nods, pushing now at his own sweatpants, trying to get them off his hips.
“Yes, yes, come on ‘polo,” he groans, bucking as Apolo reaches down to tug his sweats past his feet, off off off.
Apolo jerks him quickly, using the beads of precum collected at the head to slick his hand. JR thrusts shallowly up into Apolo’s grip, whining when Apolo pulls away to rummage in his pants pocket for lube and a condom.
“Planned this?”
“Maybe,” Apolo murmurs, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses to JR’s hipbones as he returns to settle between JR’s legs.
JR grunts as he feels Apolo’s finger, slick with lube, circle his entrance and push in, steadily past the ring of muscle. He bites his lip and Apolo twists the finger inside him and pulls out, only to add a second. JR pushes back, hissing at the slight burn -it had been a while- and relishing the stretch. Three fingers and JR whines, fucking himself back on Apolo’s hand.
“Turn over,” Apolo whispers, but there’s no question about it, so when Apolo’s fingers slip out, JR rolls onto his front, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“Now, come on, ‘polo, please,” he pants, and is rewarded when he hears Apolo open the condom packet. Apolo jerks himself once, twice, then rolls the condom on, lining himself up at JR’s entrance.
“Want this?” he grunts, and JR pushes his hips back impatiently.
“Yes, asshole, come on, fuck me, do it,” he answers, twisting his hips.
Apolo’s hands come to rest on his hips and JR groans as Apolo pushes in, one long, smooth thrust until he’s fully encased in JR. “Okay?” he asks, and JR nods, sweat beading at the back of his neck. Apolo starts to move, shallowly thrusting in and out, before JR grunts heavily and pushes his hips back hard, forcing Apolo in deeper.
“Come on, harder,” he groans, and Apolo acquiesces, adjusting his grip on JR’s hips to pull out all the way only to slam back in. “Fuck, yeah, come on, harder, god, so good.” JR reaches down to palm his cock, jacking himself quickly. One of Apolo’s hands releases its grip on JR’s hips to roam over the younger man’s back. He reaches up to twist his fingers in JR’s hair, turning the boy’s head, and Apolo drapes his entire body over JR’s, mouthing kisses at JR’s jawline before moving to his mouth and fucking his tongue in to JR’s mouth in the same rhythm as he was pounding into JR’s ass.
“Come on, come for me,” Apolo moans, breaking away from JR’s lips to pant for breath, and he slides his hand down to knock JR’s hand away from his dick. It only takes a few quick strokes before JR’s coming in hot spurts over Apolo’s hand.
Apolo slows his thrusts, pulling all the way out and pushing back in slowly. JR moans underneath him, pushing his ass back at Apolo, and it only takes a few more thrusts and then Apolo’s shooting hard into the latex.
--
To be completely honest, JR’s a little surprised when he wakes up and Apolo’s curled against him, their legs tangled under the sheets. He’d kind of been expecting Apolo to leave sometime after the sex, but the skater had just- stayed. Stayed and slept in JR’s bed and stayed there until the next morning.
JR sits up and runs a hand through his hair before checking his watch and cursing under his breath. He looks over and Apolo is still sleeping.
And Apolo is still sleeping, even after JR’s gotten dressed and eaten a banana. JR goes back into the room and sits down on the bed. Apolo doesn’t move. He reaches over and shakes Apolo’s shoulder gently.
It’s kind of adorable, JR thinks, how Apolo blinks a few times and licks his lips and squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again and looking at him fully. It’s also kind of sad that JR wants to learn the rest of Apolo waking up, and also maybe Apolo falling asleep, and Apolo eating dinner, and Jesus Christ, it’s official, JR is a teenage girl. He wonders how his parents will take the news.
“Hey man, I gotta go to the airport which kinda means you need to leave, otherwise Andrew might find you here and since I’ve only met the guy like, twice, I don’t really know what he’d do so better safe than sorry, right?”
Apolo sits up and JR totally doesn’t stare at the way his abs shift with the motion. But then again, maybe he’s allowed to openly check out Apolo now. It’s only fair, really.
“Mind giving me a ride back to the Village on your way?”
--
It’s a short car ride, and JR isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, it’s probably a good thing because it’s Andrew’s car, and while Andrew’s always out somewhere, his car’s always in the garage, and it has some pizza boxes in the back seat that JR’s pretty sure are roughly his age. On the other hand, it’s kind of a bad thing because it means he only gets about ten more minutes with Apolo.
JR pulls up at the Village and lets the car idle, waiting for Apolo to say something. It’s not that he doesn’t have a million things to say himself, but he figures he’d better let Apolo go first, to minimize the embarrassment, if nothing else.
“So you’re in Berkeley, right?”
JR blinks. That isn’t exactly the question he was preparing himself for, although he’s slowly but surely learning that Apolo is full of surprises. “Yeah, that’s where I go to school, so.”
“Sweet. I’m out in Seattle, so you know, maybe I’ll come visit sometime? If that’s cool.”
“Wait, seriously? You want to come visit me?”
Apolo laughs. “Dude. If I just wanted to sleep with you, I wouldn’t have like. Wooed you. I could’ve just gone to a club for that.”
“You wooed me? Sorry I didn’t get the memo,” JR says, trying out a shaky laugh.
“Dinner?”
“Well you kinda left me hanging there, I thought, I don’t know, that you weren’t into it or something,” JR mumbles, blushing again.
“What? No! I had to wait until my events were over, but. No, I’m definitely interested.”
“Well. Yeah, definitely, come visit whenever,” JR says, his words tripping over each other on the way out of his mouth. He lets Apolo punch his number into his cell phone and drop a kiss onto his lips as he climbs out of the car.
“You think I won’t,” Apolo says before he closes the door. “But I will. Just you wait.”
--
JR doesn’t look up from his computer when he hears the door close.
His computer, at the moment, is not on his top ten things he likes about Berkeley list right now, mainly because he’s got an English paper to write and all the computer is showing him is a blank word document. JR hates general education requirements. He’s been sitting in the same position for the better part of two hours, ignoring his cell phone and staring resolutely at the screen, willing words to come up on the document, but apparently his computer’s about as interested in Shakespeare as he is. That is to say, not at all.
So JR’s a little surprised when Apolo closes the laptop and moves it onto the coffee table, taking its place on JR’s lap, but it’s not a bad situation, really, because he has his boyfriend sitting on his lap, and hey, maybe Apolo knows something about Shakespeare. JR makes a mental note to ask him, but it’ll have to wait until later because Apolo’s warm weight is really kind of nice and very distracting.
“Didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow,” he mumbles into Apolo’s collarbone.
“I texted you, stupid,” Apolo replies, tugging on JR’s hair until JR looks up at him. “But I guess you were a little preoccupied.”
“Yeah,” JR mumbles, dropping his gaze to Apolo’s lips and feeling his stomach bottom out. “You’ll have to tell me something about Shakespeare later.”
“Well,” Apolo says, grinning cheekily and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of JR’s lips, “I know there’s a sex scene in Othello and I’m thinking maybe I can give you a practical demonstration…”
“Sounds good.”
fin.