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Sep 21, 2014

skate the platform edge (but i won't catch you when you fall) [11/11]

WC: 5253 Rating: M (withholding the 'happy ending' jokes) Summary: Ray and Joel finally get to finish the routine they started all that time ago. (figureskating!AU)

the final chapter in the series, entitled for all the scoring i’ve done, i fell for you harder than anyone ever fell in front of me.

other chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] + epilogue

A/N: thank you so much for sticking with this story, everyone. i hope you enjoy reading the final chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. <3 check the bottom for further notes if you're so inclined.

also posted to ao3!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re going to have to lead. I don’t know a thing about your routine.”

“Yeah?” Ray sent him a smirk, and Joel rolled his eyes in exasperation as he finished lacing up and stood on the ice.

“Consider it power bottoming, you know, as per usual,” he added, words quickly followed by a wolfish grin and a resounding ‘fuck you!’ from Ray.

“Just walk me through it, and tell me when to catch you.” Joel glided over, sliding down on his knee as he took Ray’s hand with a flourish before Ray pulled him back up with one of his own. His breath caught in his throat when he realized he’d never seen Joel skate before, never seen him move with the grace and form of a legend, if the videos he’d seen retroactively had done his technique justice – but here he was, a former Olympic competitor, standing in front of him in a hoodie and jeans without having to put up any more false fronts of ineptitude for all that he had been, all that he was.

But what they had wasn’t built on impressing each other with their skates, or upstaging the competition, or even competing professionally; no, he thought to himself as he ran his thumb over Joel’s knuckles with a smile, he’d want him to consider him the messy-haired, sleepy-eyed dinosaur he’d always been.

His eyes shot to the rafters as the lights dimmed, blue side lights shining down and shimmering off the layer of ice while their breath swirled in the air like vapor. Eyeing the change in setting with a wary eye, Ray’s glance shifted to one of placidity as he met the victorious brightness in Joel’s eyes.

“Mood lighting,” Joel elaborated, a grin at his lips. “Come on, I own the place.”

Ray simply rolled his eyes with a plastic smile of his own. “Well, don’t slip on your ego and break your ass, show-off.”

Joel feigned hurt, putting a hand over his heart and staggering on the ice, but Ray just cackled, taking the remote from his fingers. He slid in close to Joel, close enough to feel his breath ruffling his hair and the heat of his body close enough to mimic touch, and when he pressed play, he brushed his lips against Joel’s neck and followed the airy kiss with a smile.

The music began, the same arrangement he’d danced to all those weeks before, and Joel watched, waiting for Ray to set the pace while the piece built up to the starting note. The younger moved into a position to kick off, turning over his shoulder to send Joel a teasing glance.

“Besides, I thought you were done trying to impress me.”

They took off, and Ray wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to expect, but he certainly wasn’t expecting what happened.

Ray fell into his routine seamlessly and Joel chased after him, quick on his heels and moving with a spectacular and very surprising amount of power. It was a peculiar game of trust between the two of them, as Joel had gotten oh so used to all those years before, no doubt, but Ray picked up the partner dynamic with gusto, and Joel certainly noticed. Ray occasionally issued challenges, calling out to Joel with dares like “I’m gonna dip” in contest, and Joel, not to be bested, would shoot back “bend back further, I’ll catch you, I’m used to your curves,” bursting into a fit of laughter as Ray threw up his hands and huffed.

Joel chased him around the rink for quite some time, spinning him with a fluid movement of his arm or grazing his hips with a gentle brush of the hand and a smile, but Ray very nearly stumbled more than he’d readily admit because of how taken he was with Joel’s technique. He moved with confidence, but didn’t exude arrogance; in fact, he looked like he was at more ease on the rink than he’d ever seen him elsewhere, and it was enlivening, magnificent, alluring. His dynamism was incredible, and he moved with a kind of passion that he’d only seen from a handful of skaters in all his years. And the fact that he moved with him, against him, alongside him made it even better.

Things were relatively aligned with what Ray’s routine had originally dictated, with the occasional brush of a hand or fleeting grip on his side, but when the music began to pick up and Ray pulled his leg into the air for a spin, he felt a sudden presence behind him, a steady grip on his hips and a very distinct warmth behind him that spun with him, against him, around and around to the chromatic sway of the music and only disappearing when Joel touched back down to maintain their balance, he looked back at Joel and couldn’t help breaking into a smile.

After a while, Joel’s fingers slid between Ray’s own when they found themselves tracing circles into the icy strata beneath their blades, entwined and providing further momentum as they spun and spun. Ray led most of their movements, but once Joel caught on, he was happy to keep them moving with the entrancing, fluid motions of his arms, and for all the improvising they did, neither of them took any falls.

Ray finally opted to jump, prodding at Joel between grapevines and offering a repeated “catch me, catch me” like a mantra – or a broken record, Joel probably thought – when he bent his legs for a triple axel. When he sprung into the air, Joel did indeed catch him, and not to miss a perfect opportunity to indulge Joel’s taste for the theatrical, Ray put his arms out in a display of flexibility.

“Easy,” Joel hissed with a wince, compensating for the shift in force with a sharp turn, “I’ll admit my knees aren’t what they used to be.”

But Ray shook his head with a smile, kissing his cheek wetly when he hit the ice again and pulling Joel’s hood over his face. “The one time the great Joel Heyman admits his age handicap. Fancy that.”

He extended a hand to brush against Joel’s jaw, who smiled in turn and went in for Ray’s waist, flipping him over his shoulder and bringing him to rest on his back. Ray watched enrapt as he performed rotation after rotation before Joel finally set him back on the ice carefully as the music peaked, allowing him to end the routine with a cantilever that cascaded into a deep-edged glide that hung low to the ice, landing a flying spin on the crescendo. But the fluidity that he maintained all the while evidently kept Joel captivated, because he hung back to watch the final movements. He wrapped his arms around Ray’s waist from behind as he stuck his finish on the piece’s final note, and smiled into his neck when the younger’s fingers found his own.

“Someone’s definitely feeling better,” Ray managed to pant between breaths, grinning when Joel pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he murmured into Ray’s hair, drawing the younger man in close with a tug of his arm. “So fucking long.”

Ray’s smile left a warm trace on his lips as he considered what exactly it was that Joel meant, and though he could’ve asked, he had a pretty good idea since he’d been wanting the same thing all along. Flirtations, physical contact, and verbal sparring matches for better or worse aside, it felt different when they’d been on the ice together, and as they stood together in the cool air, Ray thought to himself, maybe everything had finally fallen into place without need for costumes and debonair smiles.

By the time they’d stumbled back into Joel’s office, a line of unlaced ice skates and coats shed trailing their journey from the ice to Joel’s chair behind his desk, Ray had affirmed his agreement with gusto.

Ray sat perched on his lap, while Joel buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. ”I really wish we’d done that earlier,” Ray hummed finally, legs splayed on either side of Joel’s own as the older pulled his hips in close. “You’re a great practice partner.”

“Well, I can take the fall for that much.”

And he’d hardly gotten the words out before Ray was snickering, pinching at his side and smiling his familiar smile into Joel’s hair.

“Hey, speaking of which, I’ve missed your criticism.”

He heard Joel pause, and figured he caught the tone he was going for when he sent back a low reply with a fascinated smile.

“Just my criticism?”

Ray grinned with the catlike flash of teeth that reflected back at him in the enticement glittering in Joel’s eyes, and sure, he certainly could’ve settled for a simple answer, but when he was close enough to Joel to breathe in his scent and feel the heat rolling off his skin – close enough, more importantly, to know when to turn a rhetorical question to his advantage – he opted instead to kiss him. Fiercely.

It was more than a kiss, though, because things between them had never stayed as simply as something that could be quantified in single, standard, easy units. No, this was two bodies pressed together, Ray’s form hauled up against Joel’s own when he pressed the older into the chair, who responded by gripping his hips tight and pulling him in, hands pressing into every curve that his fingers flew over – the kind of kiss shared by two that finally met again after far too long, far too much time apart. Joel had one hand to Ray’s neck in no time, and the other beneath the curve of his ass, pulling him flush against his chest with a groan. It was slow, but god, it was sensual, and it all counted for a time of study and rediscovery and realizing it really had been too long, when friction and movement and desire that lay hot and heavy on the tongue for more reasons than one came together in a test to resolve aching need with the kind of flamboyance only performers knew.

Performers that loved the feel of each other even more than the beam of the spotlight, at that, and that surely spoke volumes.

And fuck, if Ray had wanted to bite back the sounds that poured from his lips before, he had no chance in hell now, because from where he was perched atop Joel’s lap, rutting against him and offering gasps like some sort of serenade, he was in a position to indulge and be indulged in return for his efforts. One that Joel evidently enjoyed profusely, if the increasingly vicious nips at the base of his neck were any evidence.

He’d started rocking a familiar rhythm against Joel’s hips before too long, one that made the blood pool below his waistband and his cock press against the spandex hugging tightly to his waist, and by the time Joel’s fingers finally, finally slid teasingly beneath the hem, Ray bucked his hips up so hard that a groan came from his lips with zero abandon to stop it, and he sounded utterly wrecked. Yeah, he’d definitely missed this, Ray thought with a smile, missed being close enough to swallow his sighs and feel how warm he was, how good his touch felt against his skin. The sprawl of Ray’s legs was relaxed enough for Joel’s wrist to coax his fingers into a grip under the fabric, tugging it out of the way and letting their owner kick them off enough for cool air to hit his skin, and Ray was quick to mirror the movement, fingers curling around the button on Joel’s jeans and pulling the zipper down enough to slide his hand beneath denim. And Joel lit up like he’d been powered on for the first time when his grip fixed around him, surging up into Ray’s palm and tossing his head back like he’d been jolted in the process.

He had Joel’s legs pinned beneath him, and Ray was happy to be lucky enough to watch all of it from above, but his fingers were itching to do something more than sit idly on the skin that burned so hot against his touch and his cock was aching against his stomach, so it was all he could do to writhe in his lap and sigh the most lascivious rendition of Joel’s name right in his ear.

And for all the energy he’d put into holding himself together, Joel let everything go right there in that moment, a spectacularly wanton moan falling from obscenely parted lips before he clutched Ray’s hips by the bone and very nearly hoisted the two of them out of the chair.

His voice shook, the question proposed with desperation still clinging to it shamelessly, and the tone of it alone was enough to make Ray dizzy.

The content, though, was what surprised him.

“Are you sure you want…?” the older breathed, voice shaking with astounding self-control as he shifted where he rest beneath Ray. “After what happened, don’t want to seem like I’m just… wanted to know if you were okay. With this, with.. me.”

The words registered in Ray’s mind clearly enough that somewhere in his subconscious, the familiar nervous tone he’d always remembered on Joel roused him momentarily from his hazy state of mind. And they trickled into his heart effortlessly, warming him to the bone.

So he smiled, lacing his arms in a familiar collar around Joel’s neck. “We’ve got a long time to spend talking amongst ourselves,” he whispered, “but you did ask if I’d show you how much I missed you, so yes, I’m more than okay with it.” He sent his hips forward to gyrate against Joel’s own once more, sighing the remainder of the final few words into his neck, and smiled when the hands at his hips tightened.

Ray loved knowing how to find the light switch, but took pride in knowing how to light up the fuse box.

“Want me to fuck you, Ray?”

And there it was, the characteristic bluntness Ray would never admit he missed every night and day. Joel’s words were ragged with want, sly with intent and all-around dirty, so Ray would’ve died before he refused, especially with how good his name sounded on his lips. “God yes,” he all but keened, though the affirmation came out as more of a cracked sob because of how rapidly it crossed his lips. He rolled his hips on Joel’s own, back and forth as Joel’s fingers wrapped around his hot flesh and smeared the sticky liquid he found there over his skin, and he couldn’t help the shameless whine that hummed from deep in his throat when Joel gave him languid strokes full of purpose.

“How about ‘til you ache?”

He shuddered when he heard the words blown hot against his hair, felt the slight curve of Joel’s smile move against his ear when he tugged on his dick again, determined for an answer.

“Might already be aching,” he breathed, willing steadiness into his quaking voice, “and you wouldn’t keep me waiting any longer, would you?”

Joel chuckled against his skin, kissing his cheek in a moment of tenderness before the cap of the lube clicked behind him and cold fingers pressed at his entrance. Ray flexed around him in a moment of abandoned control, fingers tightening where they rest on Joel’s skin, and the older man met the movement with a hiss.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, burying his face in Ray’s neck once more when the younger lurched at the contact and rocked forward into it in no time. “Missed everything about you.” He breathed long breaths against Ray’s skin, whispering affections across flesh as he moved against him, and swallowed his gasps with open-mouthed kisses pressed soft to his lips.

And by the time he’d worked two fingers in, reducing the younger to whimpers and jerky tremors between swears, Ray couldn’t wait any longer between jolts of sensation reminding him how strongly he returned that sentiment.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” he gasped, pushing his hips back on Joel’s fingers insistently, “want you so bad, I can’t—I need it, need you, just...” He dug his nails into a set of broad shoulders when Joel removed his fingers, and he could’ve rambled on for another six months about how desperately he craved the stretch, the fullness, the entire thing.

Would’ve, probably, if all his thoughts weren’t being filtered through the pulse throbbing in his dick and making focusing on anything that wasn’t the roll of Joel’s voice (and of course, the wordless vocals that accompanied it) extremely difficult.

Joel made a low noise in the back of his throat when Ray gripped him tight, hands shaking as his fingers slid down his cock. The older man jerked sharply when Ray brought his wrist up with a wicked smile, though, grip gliding across his flesh with ease. He grabbed at the Puerto Rican’s hips, evidently maintaining slight distaste at his lapse in control but hardly complaining at how good his fingers felt, no doubt. Good enough that whatever scolding had risen to his tongue left his lips in a long, low moan.

But he managed to pull Ray up from his lap so the younger stood on his knees in the chair, still clinging tight to Joel’s shoulders for balance, and batted his hand away long enough to pull it around his back. Ray sent him a quick glance for affirmation when his fingers wrapped around Joel’s length again, this time guiding it against his ass as his breath hitched, and he watched Joel the whole time. Watched while he lowered himself onto him, watched his eyes threaten to flicker shut when his head pushed against him, and watched his eyes very nearly roll back in his head when he took him all in one fluid movement. And it took him both every bit of willpower he had not to lose it right then and there.

When he opened his eyes, though, and his gaze met Ray’s own unerringly, a wave of tingling warmth went down Ray’s spine, because for all the time they’d spend in the haze of coital contact and shared body heat, this time was somehow different – or perhaps this was just the first time he’d noticed. Joel looked at him like he was the only one he wanted to see, and for someone who lived for an audience, Ray thought to himself with the flavor of something endearing, he craved Joel’s eyes, craved the feeling he got when saw himself reflected back in those pools of brown so dark that they only lit up when they glowed in the sun.

He ached for the physical attention that stemmed from the hands that held him, too; for the contact they initiated when Joel reached around him to pull him close, and for the shocked and entirely unadulterated gasp that he pulled from the elder’s throat when he brushed Joel’s lips with his and rutted his hips against his own, feeling the familiar stretch and grinning when he felt Joel thrust up to meet him.

“Oh, fuck, I love the way you bend,” Joel groaned finally, hand sliding between their stomachs to stroke Ray’s dick in time with his rocking against Joel’s pelvic bone. A tremor went through his body as he felt Ray tense around him at the contact, to which Ray smiled and rose up enough to drop himself down on his dick again, and Joel didn’t bother withholding a guttural moan before breathing out “there’s really no one like you”, almost inaudibly, and it felt fantastic.

Joel thrust up again to break the gentle swiveling of Ray’s hips he’d initiated when he set out to fuck himself on his cock, not about to be reduced to a complete mess – earning a heightened gasp from the younger, who tossed his head back and felt everything arch. Joel sped up his strokes as he moved, thrusting deep and hard and reveling in the way Ray moved above him, meeting every movement with one of his own like he had in the routine, and it didn’t take long before Ray was clinging to him desperately and warbling away in his ear encouragement to spend himself.

“Joel, Joel, so close—“ He gasped sharply as he felt release approaching fast, pooling in his spine and threatening to take him immediately at the sight of Joel losing his composure beneath him. It took one, two more thrusts and a string of loving words whispered against his skin before he came in Joel’s grip, his name on his lips as he slicked both their stomachs. Joel pulled him against him tightly not too long after and buried positively fervid moans into his neck (of volumes Ray had never heard on him before, he was more than delighted to note), keeping his grip on the younger’s cock and milking him through the rest of his orgasm until he lay pliant and contentedly hypersensitive in his arms.

They waited until their breathing evened out to speak, hanging pleasantly in the warmth of the afterglow and smiling at the way their chests rose and fell together after a few initial, staggered gasps to catch their breath. Joel let his fingers drag idly up and down Ray’s sides, languidly tracing the dips and curves of his ribs and moving to count the ridges on his spine, and Ray was more than happy to let him shower him in the gentlest of kisses for the better part of what had to be an hour, perhaps even more. He’d missed the entirely rapt gaze, and he’d missed the lips, but more than anything, he’d missed the feel of his touch and the warmth of his smile. It may have been reckless to call it all his own, but the more they eyed each other, the more of the shared company Ray found himself craving once more.

In fact, the only time Joel glanced away was when he heard rapid footsteps through the corridor outside, escalating until there was a figure outside his door. It swung open before Joel had time to react, revealing a very angry Burnie with a stack of papers wielded threateningly in his hand as he flew into the room.

“Alright, Joel,” he growled, stepping into the office with a long stride and brandishing the stack, “we need to talk if you’re not looking to get prosecuted, I’m—”

He came to a screeching halt, however, once he got an eyeful of the sight before him. Ray was still spread across Joel’s legs, whose hands were at rest on either side of the roosted man’s hips, and the clothes strewn about the room certainly weren’t helping. Ray looked horrified, glancing quickly from one to the other; from Burnie, who was sporting a bewildered expression and looking white as a sheet in fantastic contrast to Joel’s calm and relatively collected demeanor strung up with a lazy smile.

In fact, to his mild surprise, Joel was the one that finally broke the silence, and Ray wanted to melt into the carpet when the older man looked right at Burnie, despite being half-clothed and in a more than compromising position, and fired off in characteristic form.

“Doesn’t anyone knock anymore?”

Burnie was gaping, too surprised and confused to do much but open and close his mouth for a good thirty seconds while Joel snickered. But when he managed to string together some coherency, he had the full attention of both the men in question.

“What the fuck is going on?” He faltered briefly, allowing enough time for Joel’s fingers to reach behind his chair and swipe a hoodie to wrap around Ray’s waist. Burnie looked at the two of them, lingering on Joel for a minute before putting a hand to his temple with a sigh. “Fuck, talk about the Ghost of Christmas Past. Did I do something to deserve this? Because whatever it was, god, do I regret so, so hard.” He chewed on his lip, combing his brain for words as his brow knit.

“Better question,” Joel interjected, mildly annoyed tone beginning to seep into his voice, “why the hell are you in my office?”

There was venom in Burnie’s voice, but most of its bite was negated by how comically shocked he looked. “I was going to ask why you,” pointing a lone, shaky finger at Joel, who looked back as calmly as he could muster, “abstained from scoring Ray’s program.” He ran a hand through his hair, bringing it to rest on his jaw with a long, traumatized sigh. “Apparently my question answered itself.”

“You’re his coach?” Joel blinked once, twice, taking time to taste the words in his mouth. “That explains a lot.”

Ray finally raised his hand to chime in, offering a very confused “um, so you two know each other?” as the men paused, turning to look at him, then each other.

“Yeah,” Burnie grit out exasperatedly as Joel sent tired eyes toward the ceiling, “we know each other. We skated the same circuit, competed together when we were younger.”

“Hated each other,” Joel added with a burst of laughter. “Mostly him hating me, though.”

And Ray made a noise of agreement before ruffling the older’s hair. “Seems to be a trend.”

Burnie was looking very green at this point, and Ray couldn’t help lapsing into a fit of giggles, too. “Yeah, okay, I think I’m gonna go. I’d rather avoid repeating breakfast.” He slipped back to the entryway carefully, turning when he reached the doorframe and assuming a menacing demeanor once more.

“Be responsible,” he hissed, pointing the threatening finger from before at Joel, who was positively dripping in his habitually smug mien, before turning to Ray and offering up his best attempt at not letting his gaze linger too long. “We’ll be in touch, we’ve got practice to start up,” he sighed, allowing sincerity to tug at his lips for a moment before ducking out the door a little quicker than he came in.

“Should’ve told him I’ve been scoring your program night after night,” Joel said with a snicker as his eyes followed Burnie out the door, bursting into a fit of laughter when Ray playfully whacked his shoulder. When the door swung shut, the combined laughter of the two left remaining lasted for a good while. Their hysterics finally subsided once Ray wrapped his arms around Joel’s neck and rested his head on the older man’s shoulder, contented sigh escaping past his lips.

“Tired?” Joel asked softly, fingers trailing up his side and rubbing familiar circles into his back. The younger nodded, breathing an agreement into his skin and reveling in how relaxed Joel felt. It was a refreshing departure from recent events, and it felt fantastic.

Just like how relaxed he himself felt, come to think of it. The kind of relaxed that felt like he was floating in the ocean beneath a cloudless sky.

“I owe you dinner, after all. How does home cooking sound?”

Turning back to Joel, Ray lifted a brow in confusion, sending a thumb toward a double-digit morning indicator on the nearby clock. “Dinner is half a day away, but I could go for a nap.”

Joel smiled his knowing, crooked grin, the one Ray was growing fonder of with every new instance.

“Well, I figured I’d wake you up to it tonight, if you were interested.”

Of course, Ray agreed with no veiled enthusiasm.

And as he looked at Joel – a pastime in which he frequently indulged during the drive, on the way up his steps, and by the time they were ensnared in Joel’s sheets – he thought about how their eyes were drooping and their thoughts were filled with helium from the dark that had quickly bloomed to dawn, which was now mid-day and about as sure as the sun was to hang in the same place; thoughts about how much he’d missed Joel’s bed, less for the insinuation of the bedroom, but rather, for the tangle of limbs and the shared breaths instead. How he’d missed Joel’s intensity, his ability to light up the mundane, his tendency to make Ray breathe deep instead of hard.

The fact that the laces of their skates were tangled together by the door was just icing on the fucking cake, and it was absolutely, positively perfect. The perfect ending of all the characteristics of someone so right that he’d have to start frantically flipping through grammar books to find the words to tell him appropriately. Performances, no, narrations of the heart were the scariest to begin, after all.

For now, though, it could wait.

So as he lay there, he couldn’t help but smile into Joel’s skin at the way he still felt so vulnerable, so dwarfed in the presence of this creature amounting to far more than skin and bones who lay next to him. His breaths synced up with his own, and even after Ray had realized who he was, he came to find that the reason had nothing to do with the rink. And that realization in itself was enough to make his heart swell like none other.

Funny that the thing they enjoyed as much as each other’s company was what had brought them together in the first place, wasn’t it?

He pressed his nose against the sensitive skin of the older man’s neck as he shifted closer, prodding at his side to which Joel answered with a sleepy ‘mm?’ hummed in confusion.

At that moment, things were as they were – exactly what Ray wanted, and could’ve ever asked for – and to his intrigue, Joel of all people was starting to convince Ray that something even more satisfying than perfection might exist, and it was close enough for him to touch.

An arm snaked around Ray, pulling him close enough to rest his forehead against Joel’s own. He could make out his features in the dark of the room, curtains pulled closed to keep out the light of the day, and the air blowing softly around them to highlight the sounds of their breaths was warm. He was mature enough to know when to speak, but realistic enough to know himself, knew he’d try to put effort into remembering every detail.

Smitten enough to know the only detail that mattered was his company.

As if on cue, Joel took in a breath and let it out in a soft statement that, in its brevity, washed over Ray like wind and summer rain.

“Love you, Ray.”

He opened his mouth to reply, to his credit, only to have the curve to his lips place him into stunned silence. He’d always figured it would hit him when he wasn’t ready, coming at him out of the dark and leaving him gasping for air, but instead, as he realized his smile had split into a grin, it was the kiss after the curtain fell alongside a bouquet of flowers that it always had been.

And as the man beside him finally cracked an eye open, sleepy smile betraying his attempt at feigning slumber, Ray knew all that was left after taking the jump was the comfort in knowing where he’d fall.

read the epilogue here. <3

#joelay #ragehappy #skree writes #i can't believe it's over and i have a million people to thank #including you dear reader #stay tuned

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