Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Greed is an integral quality of a strong player (c)

Misha has never been greedy. Even as a child he didn’t ask for more toys, more sweets, more attention, more anything. He was content with what he had and he still is. He likes to compete, yes, and he likes to win, but he's never felt the all-consuming need to have more than he's already got. Though he dreams big, these dreams of titles and medals don't haunt him at night.

But then he meets Ilia Malinin and suddenly nothing is enough anymore.

It should've been easy to be one of Malinin's acquaintances. Ilia is friendly and simple, nice to look at and has a decent sense of humor. It should’ve been easy, but it’s not.

He's incredibly talented and, though Misha has seen plenty of talented guys on the skating rink and elsewhere, none of them seems as luminous and breathtaking to him as Ilia. He is like sunshine, bright and warm. And sometimes deadly. Misha can't stop looking at him. Can’t stop thinking about him.

He’s never been interested in his opponents’ achievements more than is strictly necessary, concentrating on improving his own skills, but he starts to check on Ilia’s progress regularly. Not only his results, but performances and media, too. Somehow, it doesn’t feel enough and at first Misha can’t even understand why he wants more. But when he catches himself not simply watching one of Ilia’s programs, but actually cheering for him, he gets it. The realization shocks him a bit, but he doesn’t take it seriously at the time, not really. He tells himself it’s a harmless sort-of-crush that won’t last long anyway.

Being one of Malinin’s friends isn’t easy either. Ilia is less simple than he seems, even nicer to look at when up close and his sense of humor has a lot of layers.

He’s got mood swings that he hides in public, but not around his friends. Ilia can be selfish and generous at the same time. A lot of other things about him are contradictory, too, but it just makes Misha like him even more.

He knows that he shouldn’t seek Ilia’s attention, shouldn’t feel so happy when he gets it, shouldn’t spend time with him during competitions or text when they’re in different parts of the world. Ilia is his rival, he’s also straight and has a girlfriend. Misha is neither stupid nor delusional, he knows that he’ll end up just torturing himself. But he doesn’t know what to do with the almost unbearable longing he feels every time he looks at Ilia and the need to get as much of him as he can, and then more. Misha has never been greedy, but he is now and he has no idea how to deal with it.

Cup of China is as good as it gets. Misha’s skating is much better than in Angers and so are the scores. He’s happy about winning a medal, but, unlike last season when he was ecstatic for bronze, he thinks silver is not gold. This thought wipes the smile off his face for a moment, but then he checks his phone and sees a text from Ilia:

“Wow!”

It’s just one word, three letters, but Misha is grinning like an idiot, because it means that, despite time difference and his impossibly packed schedule, Ilia watched his free skate live.

On his flight back from Chongqing Misha feels relief (because the first half of the season is over) and sadness (because he won't see Ilia for weeks to come). He pretends this sadness is not suffocating.

Misha is used to hard work and overcoming obstacles and not used to gifts of fate. He’s sorry for Adam, he really is, but he takes the spot in the GP Final without even a nanosecond of a doubt. Firstly, it's one of his dreams and secondly... well, Ilia will be there, so. He can't say "no" even if he doesn't feel at his best physically. He wants to pack, buy plane tickets and arrive in Grenoble as soon as possible. Ivan laughs at his enthusiasm, but he's obviously excited, too.

They manage to get there in time. Misha's later than all the other participants, of course, but he's finally there and he's ready to compete.

He's not so ready to meet Ilia, though. Texting online is one thing, but actually talking while standing so close to him is overwhelming. It always has been, but the more time passes, the more difficult these rare meetings become for Misha. He knows now that it's not just a crush (it wasn't in the first place), it's a much more dangerous thing and he should keep himself in check. But at this point Ilia's smile is a weapon that easily shatters Misha's self-control, and so he makes the first mistake.

He hugs Ilia when he meets him at the hotel. They usually go for a handshake, but it's not nearly enough for Misha and he stops fighting his greed for a moment. He doesn't even think it's a mistake, because Ilia hugs him back and acts absolutely normal afterwards, like there's no difference between a handshake and a hug. And probably there isn't, Misha thinks happily and listens to Ilia talking about the weather. It's the most mundane conversation they’ve had this year, but Misha feels better than he has in months.

Misha should’ve been content with his short program. Ivan definitely is and the scores are good, yet Misha feels that he could do better. He completely forgets about it though, when he’s standing next to Ilia and Yuma before the photographers.

"Cute hat," Ilia tells him, smiling.

"It’s panda," Misha blurts out.

"I can see that."

They both laugh and Yuma gives them a weird look, but Misha couldn’t care less. Ilia is almost leaning on him, tugging on the right “ear” of the hat, obviously amused. Misha could stay like this forever, but the moment passes way too fast, leaving his greed unsatisfied again. No wonder he makes the second mistake.

"I’ve found a new tv show," Ilia tells him after the press thing is over. "It’s really good."

Misha groans internally. He hasn’t watched the previous one that Ilia recommended to him and he doesn’t even want to.

"We can watch it together if you’ve got nothing better to do," Ilia says, and Misha knows he should say no, because distance is the main thing that keeps his greed at bay and an hour or more alone with Ilia in a confined space of the hotel room will be really hard. They’ve spent time like that before, at Worlds, and Misha had been restless for the whole night afterwards, barely collected himself in the morning. So it’s a very bad idea, but Ilia is smiling, as bright and luminous as ever, and Misha says:

"Yeah, sure."

They put Misha’s laptop on the bed and all the cushions on the floor, because Ilia prefers to sit there. It’s comfortable and even cozy, but Misha can’t stop thinking about how close they’re sitting. Their shoulders are bumping.

And Ilia is wearing the panda hat that he unceremoniously grabbed from Misha’s open suitcase.

"Does it look good on me?" he grins.

You’re adorable.

"It’s mine, put it back," Misha says sternly, but he can’t help smiling.

Ilia scoffs and take the hat off.

"What about my new costume then?"

Well, that’s a tricky question.

"It’s… interesting," Misha says cautiously. "More complicated than the previous one."

"I hate you!" Ilia laughs and pokes him in the ribs.

Misha yelps, but he’s laughing too.

"You always ask for my honest opinion, so you don’t get to be mad at my honesty," he manages through bursts of laughter.

Ilia rolls his eyes.

"I know. That’s exactly why I wanted to hear that you like it."

Misha’s heart skips a bit, and so he makes the third mistake. He forgets to filter his words.

"You look good in everything," he says. The amount of sincerity in his voice is terrifying.

He expects laughter, but Ilia just looks at him wide-eyed and blushes. He actually blushes. Misha’s brain comes to a halt, he can’t stop himself and he makes the fourth mistake of the day, probably the dumbest one in his entire life.

Misha leans in, cups Ilia’s cheek with his hand and kisses him. It's chaste and short, but Ilia kisses him back.

Misha feels incomprehensible happiness for exactly five seconds before Ilia withdraws with a perfectly guarded, almost blank expression on his face.

"I like you," he says quietly, voice even and toneless, eyes fixed on the wall behind Misha's head. "But not... like that."

Misha wants to say Sorry and I didn't mean to, but that would be a lie and he's unable to form a single sound anyway.

"I want us to be just friends," Ilia goes on. His voice wavers a bit.  "If it's possible."

It's impossible. Misha feels a whirlwind of emotions every time he simply looks at Ilia.

"Of course it's possible," he says instantly and tries to add as much conviction to his voice as he could muster.

His greed prevails again. He can't lose this relationship with Ilia, even if it's not the type he wishes it to be. Misha would rather torture himself more, before his feelings fade. (He doesn't truly believe they ever will).

Ilia looks at him with a smile again. It's small and uncertain, but it gives Misha hope that he hasn't fucked everything up irrevocably, so he smiles back.

They don't talk about it anymore, just watch the show on Misha's laptop, make stupid comments, eat some contraband snacks and laugh a lot. It's less awkward than Misha's expected. He almost feels as if they were in a video game, saved it before the damned kiss happened and then went back to that moment. To being absolutely normal.

Twenty-four hours later he learns that life is no video game.

Chapter Text

Misha has a sleepless night. It feels like Worlds all over again, only a thousand times worse because he blames himself nonstop for being an idiot. He's lucky that Ilia hasn't make a scene or hit him.

Ilia basically let it slide and offered to forget the kiss accident. Misha should do exactly that and actually forget it. If only he could.

The moment replays itself in his mind until five a.m. when he finally falls into a troubled slumber.

Ivan wakes him up at seven. He is smart and perceptive, and Misha usually appreciates these qualities, but not today. Today he needs to perform a free skate at top level, his very best, and he can barely drag himself out of bed.

Ivan looks at him suspiciously, then disapprovingly, but doesn't say anything. Misha is surprised, but grateful. No words could save him right now anyway.

Warm-up is hard. Misha tries to concentrate on his elements, but Ilia is always somewhere in his periphery. He smiles at Misha a few times which is not helping at all.

When the five minutes end and they are leaving the ice, Ilia touches Misha's shoulder lightly and whispers in his ear:

"If you watch me, you'll be surprised."

And walks away with an unreadable expression on his face.

Both Misha's ears burn. He stumbles and almost falls face down on the floor. Thank god, nobody's paying him any attention at the moment.

He spends all the time left until his entry trying to figure out what that was about. Surely, Ilia meant his free skate, but he knows that Misha always watches it anyway. So what's he up to?

Misha is proud and disappointed at the same time. He's proud that he's managed to muster all scraps of energy and concentration that he could find in order to perform at a decent level. But he's disappointed because it's not nearly enough. When he sees the scores, he realizes it's not even enough for bronze. It's fifth place and Misha wants to scream.

Yesterday he imagined himself on the pedestal, right next to Ilia, but now it feels like he'll never get there, neither at the Grand Prix final nor anywhere else. He knows it'll pass and in a few days he'll feel much better, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurts like hell now.

Then Ilia starts to skate and Misha forgets about everything else.

The quad axel is no surprise, of course, but then it's quad after quad after quad, and Misha can't even breathe until he sees Ilia fall on the ice, exhausted.

He's not merely surprised, he's stunned. Ilia is exceptional and he likes to show he's exceptional, Misha knows that. But right now he wants to run to Ilia and touch him just to check if this boy is real.

Misha can't do that, of course, he can only watch, amazed.

He sees the scores and wants to scream again. It's a reality check and Misha hates it.

The banquet is boring and Misha spends the evening pretending that it's not. Ilia's presence makes it much more bearable, of course, even though they get to actually talk only at the end of it.

Ilia is usually good at socializing, but today he seems moody, so Misha does his best at making stupid jokes. It's awkward, but the Q-skater photo finally gets him a genuine smile from Ilia. Misha counts it as a win, but then his thought process stops altogether because Ilia says:

"Let's get drunk."

It’s so out of the blue that it takes Misha a few seconds to process what he’s just heard.

"We can't," he finally says.

Ilia raises an eyebrow.

"Why?"

I can't control myself around you even when I'm sober, that's why.

"It's an official banquet," he tries. And isn't it obvious? The last thing they need is to embarrass themselves in public.

Ilia just rolls his eyes.

"It's almost over, nobody's gonna miss us at this point."

Not in public, then. Better for reputation, but worse for Misha’s heart.

"What about your father?" he asks cautiously.

Ilia laughs.

"He gave me a night off."

"Why would he?"

The grin Ilia gives him is almost devilish.

"Because I'm back-to-back Grand Prix final champion if you haven't noticed".

Misha remembers how his coaches always call him humble and responsible. They’re not wrong but, when he’s with Ilia, he constantly wants and wants and wants. And he doesn’t know how to stop it.

"That’s still a bad idea, even for a champion," he says, but they both know it’s not a no.

Ilia smiles. He looks happy and Misha thinks he made the right choice, consequences be damned.