Their feedback washed over Robbie’s buzzing mind, all meaningless jargon, but the last judge’s comment was all too easy to focus on.
He was the hardass, the grumpy one who had high standards. The crowd went quiet as he shuffled his notes and cleared his throat.
“When they told me we’d have our first same-gendered pair on the show, I raised my eyebrows. People all over the country have been talking this past week, and it seems everyone and their dog has an opinion about whether this was a good idea. I think, gentlemen, you’ve put the debate to rest.” The arena held its breath. “That was fun, swinging, and enjoyable. The naysayers can shut up.”—the crowd started cheering—“Pairing the two of you together was a fantastic idea. Well done.” The last was drowned out by the roar of the crowd.
Robbie and Finn hugged with relief and then—
Oh. Wow. There were rainbows and signs and shit. Robbie wasnotgoing to cry.
At least, not until they got away from the cameras.
Time blurred, and suddenly Robbie and Finn were back in “their” dressing room, slouching onto the benches. Robbie wanted to take his skates off, but he didn’t think he could move. “Jesus.” He tilted his head back against the cinderblock wall. “Is it always like this?”
Finn huffed. “Uh, kinda? But also, no.”
Robbie gathered the wherewithal to raise an eyebrow.
“On a show like this, yeah, sure. You do your thing, you stick around for your criticism, and then the energy crash hits. In an actual competition, you might be skating your long program later, so there’s no time to crash. You just get your scores and then have to get right back in the mindset for the next part of the competition.”
Robbie blew out a breath, imagining that. Sounded terrible. “And then when the whole thing is over?”
“Puppet with cut strings.” Finn gave a smile, sweaty and pink-cheeked, and pulled up a leg to unlace his skate. “But like, the whole rainbows-and-signs thing is pretty new. I mean you’ll get the odd fan with a sign, and people bring stuffed animals and flowers sometimes, but it’s not usually so overwhelming.” The first skate fell to the ground, and he pulled his other leg up to undo that one. Robbie’s feet twinged in jealousy, and he leaned over to get his own laces.
Before he could do more than untie the knot, Finn asked, “Are you, uh, good? I mean it’s not like you’ve been outed, but itkind ofis. We can ask security not to allow signs if you’re feeling weird about it.”
Robbie blinked at his skate. His fingers continued unlacing without his conscious input, and he raised his eyes. “Actually it’s kind of nice. Most of it’s been supportive. It’s like….” He didn’t quite know how to phrase it. “A weight off, maybe? Because the world’s got a lot of Chads in it. But it’s got more Finns and Georges and Gails and Imogens and Sawyers.”
“And Robbies and Hollys and Sophias and Emilys.” Finn rested his chin on his knee.
Robbie returned his gaze to his laces. It felt like too much to look at Finn right now, while he worked through that. While he worked through a lot of things.
The right skate loosened. Robbie pried his foot free and flexed his toes, moved on to the left. Peripherally, he was aware of Finn a few feet away, peeling off his skate costume.
The second skate released Robbie’s foot.
And then it was like something released in his mind too—something that had been holding back. Only a heartbeat passed in the dressing room, but Robbie was in a series of memories: Finn explaining how Sawyer and Imogen crashed his movie nights and stole his snacks; laughing sheepishly when headmitted he’d forgotten Sawyer’s deadname; smiling like a shit disturber and instructing the kids on how to boo the cops.
His waist under Robbie’s palms, his hand in Robbie’s, his body pressed close. His weight on Robbie’s thighs, the scent of his sweat after a workout.
His tiny little shorts that suggested someone should eat his ass.
The lightness in Robbie’s chest when Finn grinned at him. The triple-time beat of his heart.
The way Stef had chastised Finn half a dozen times during their last dress rehearsal because he kept smiling too much when he was supposed to be playing hard to get.
When the heartbeat passed, Robbie was standing, having crossed the few feet between them. Finn had taken his shirt off, and he had his back to Robbie and the room, but he must’ve heard Robbie coming, because he turned around when they were just half a foot apart. Robbie could almost taste the salt of his sweat in the air.
Thump, thump, thumpwent Robbie’s heart.
Oh, went Robbie’s brain.
He swallowed. “Finn….”
Finn’s chest hitched visibly on a breath. His eyes went dark.
He licked his lips.
Was Robbie doing this? Was this the heat of the moment? Was this a real connection, or just a side effect of their dancing?
