milan. - nico hischier
summary: a little meetcute in the olympic village.
word count: 1.5k
note: any names mentioned that aren’t nico are made up olympians.
The small sliver of sun Barbara had been able to carve out disappeared, a shadow looming over her phone and her cappuccino (extra chocolate, she’d earnt it). She waited a second for it to shift back to sunlight and warmth, but when it didn’t, she slowly lifted her head.
Standing in front of her was a man she recognised but had never met. A confused smile crossed her face, and her head tilted to the side as she waited for him to do something other than smile back at her—though the smile going on a little longer wouldn’t have killed her. He had a dimple that she wanted to commit to memory.
Eventually, he seemed to register that it had been silent for longer than was necessary or polite, and he asked, “Can we trade pins?”
Barbara’s eyes moved to his lanyard and the limited number of pins he had attached. They were all familiar to her and were present on her own lanyard—except for the one she knew he could give her.
Still, her eyes locked on the most familiar of them all. She said, “It looks like you’ve already got a Canadian one.”
His face froze only briefly before he reached for his lanyard and, with a deftness she was not sure she had ever seen from anyone before, pulled the pin apart and away from his lanyard. She barely saw him put the back on it again before he threw it blindly to his right.
“I don’t think I do, actually. Can I get yours?”
The only thing Barbara was able to do was laugh, a sudden and explosive sound breaking free of her chest and only getting louder when his face turned smug. She reached into the open pocket of her backpack and pulled out a pin identical to the one he had just thrown, holding it out to him with palm outstretched.
He pulled a pin out of his jacket pocket, dropped it into her hand and let his fingers graze her palm as he picked up hers. Barbara fought the flutter of her eyelids at the touch as she curled her fingers around the Swiss pin. He wasted no time in attaching his new Canadian pin to his lanyard and beaming at her proudly—the smugness still not yet removed from his face.
“My collection’s a little pathetic, maybe you could show me your tricks?”
“I mean,” she said, still unable to shake the laughter in her voice at the unexpected absurdity of the interaction, “it doesn’t look like you’ve tried at all. They’re just from your Devils’ teammates, right?”
The smile slipped from his face completely, as did his enchanting dimple, replaced by his own confusion. “You know who I am?”
“I grew up in Halifax,” Barb said with a small shrug.
“Oh, that—yeah, that makes sense.”
Barbara’s eyes flickered to her phone as it lit up with a message, and the time caught her off guard. She started to collect her things, shoving what she could in her pockets and picking up her half empty coffee.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said to him, “and thanks for the pin, but I’m gonna be late for a meeting with my coach so I gotta run. Find me later and we can grow your collection.”
“Can I get your number?” he asked as she was already walking away.
She called back over her shoulder, “Just message me on Insta!”
“I don’t even know your name!”
Barbara turned around, but didn’t stop moving towards her destination, unperturbed by any obstacles that could materialise behind her.
“Guess you’re gonna have to get into speed skating, Hischier,” she laughed. “You should also find that thing you definitely didn’t toss.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I will.”
With a small wave and an ever-present smile, Barbara turned her back on Nico and picked up her pace.
It had been a long day, even though all Barbara had done was some short bursts, gotten a pep talk from her coach and managed to squeeze in the men’s 5000m event. Every second she wasn’t doing something was another second she was thinking about her first event the next day. Her first ever Olympic event.
It was all quite a lot.
She’d spent most of the evening staring at the wall when Gabrielle waltzed in, as carefree as she’d been since winning silver in the 3000m event. She was unbothered by still having events to come. Barbara hoped she would be the same.
Gabrielle lifted Barbara’s lanyard off the table as she passed, carefully inspecting each pin attached to it.
“Only the one today? You’re falling behind.” She tutted. “Who’d you meet?”
Barbara hummed and went back to staring at the wall. She answered, “Hockey player.”
“Gross.”
“I know.”
Every line in the wall had been committed to memory, every groove from a paint brush burnt into her brain. She had been super imposing the track onto the wall; every event she’d previously competed in playing out in front of her. Her coach wasn’t impressed when she’d told him about it.
“Anyone I’d know?”
The rink disappeared from her vision, and Barbara looked back to Gabrielle who was stretched out on her own bed.
“Hischier? He plays for the Devils.”
“I don’t know why I asked; I don’t even know the entire Canadian team.” Gabrielle didn’t even pretend to try and think if she’d heard of him. “Did he tell you he played for the Devils when you met him? They can’t all seriously think that’s important on a first meeting.”
“No. He played Juniors in Halifax, so I’ve known about him for a while.”
“You met him before?”
“Nah, he’s a couple years older so we didn’t run in the same circles.”
A beat of silence filled the room, before Gabrielle’s head twisted to look at Barbara. All she said was, “Gross.”
It was at the same small café in the village that she ran into Nico again. His Olympic events had started and finished between their meetings, and Switzerland hadn’t made it out of the quarter finals.
Not that Barbara had been keeping track.
He didn’t stand over her this time; the sun only disappeared for half a second, long enough for Barbara to look up to see him taking the seat opposite her. She found herself smiling before she was even totally aware that he was sitting down.
“I don’t know how you do anything that I’ve seen you do.”
Barbara’s smile fell. Nico seemed unaware.
“Skate in a circle? You do that playing hockey.”
“Not at that speed,” he laughed as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t qualify; you got two medals.”
Barbara didn’t want to roll her eyes. She had managed so well in not doing so up to that point, had been appropriately excited about reaching the podium.
However.
“Bronze.”
She didn’t buy that people who got bronze were happier than people who got silver. If anything, she thought they would be as miserable as each other—second only to people who went home empty handed.
“Bronze is great,” Nico said, echoing what even her coach had told her. “And it’s not your last Olympics, is it? You go up from here.”
“Maybe that’ll be motivating next time I’m trying to qualify.”
Nico leant back in his seat, his broad chest drawing Barbara’s attention.
“Maybe it’ll motivate me.”
Barbara’s back straightened with such speed that the muscles in her sides pinched—a concern for later. She exhaled, large and dramatic, her eyebrows pinching together.
“I am so sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining when I have two medals.”
Nico’s shrug was so casual and his smile so fixed to his face, that, if she hadn’t been following the men’s ice hockey so closely, she wouldn’t have even known he was an Olympian. An Olympian who didn’t make it to the finals of his event.
“We have very good players, but some of the other teams have more good players. Great players. I’m glad I’m here; it’s been a long time since the NHL let us be.”
“You played really well,” she said softly.
Nico perked up, his shoulders lifted just a little bit, and his eyes widening as he asked, “You watched?”
Barbara dipped her head, trying to hide the raging blush forming on her cheeks. “I mean. Yeah.”
“Do you want to come watch more?”
“I don’t think I want to see Canada lose to the US,” Barbara sighed. It wasn’t that she was invested in hockey—it was that she was invested in Canada. “I’m sick and tired of their goddamn national anthem.”
“I meant you could maybe come to New Jersey to watch some?” Nico clarified, his voice laced with uncertainty. “They do play their national anthem there, though.”
She reached up, mostly thoughtlessly, running her fingers over the Swiss pin he’d given her. It was tempting, and she owned enough earplugs that the anthem didn’t need to be an issue.
“I’ve never been to New Jersey,” was what she opted to say.
Nico’s face opened up even further—she was stunned by his ability to convey even more just through his expression—and his offer was as genuine as Barbara had ever heard from anyone: “I’ll show you around.”
Gabrielle only had one thing to say that night back in their room when she heard the day’s recap: “Gross, Barbara.”
