A/N Happy birthday, Izzy! I am so so so very sorry this has taken so long to complete! There is really no excuse. *hangs head* This is my second attempt at writing this birthday fic, and even though this is the replacement for the fic I ended up scrapping, I am not entirely happy with it. D: Also, this is my first time writing both Russia and Canada, so I have absolutely no idea if I've characterized them properly (it's also my first time writing anything in a while, so I'm afraid I'm a little rusty). As such, constructive criticism would be much appreciated!
So, hurdles. They say to write about what you know, right? xD;; Hopefully I've done the actual process of jumping over a hurdle (it's harder than it looks!) justice with my description here.
Matthew wasn't sure why he liked hurdles.
At least, he wasn't sure why he subjected himself to them. He'd always enjoyed running, but he was generally too unsure on his feet for too much of it to ever be an entirely wise idea. Given that Matthew was quite timid and desperately afraid of the prospect of physical pain or violence, and factoring in the idea that the whole point of hurdles was to leap aggressively over a ridiculous amount of very tall barriers placed in between the start line and the finish, logically he shouldn't have wanted anything remotely to do with the sport. And yet, the rush of adrenaline he got when he cleared all the hurdles without so much as brushing against the tops – or the burst of satisfaction that came from a race run smoothly and in perfect form – always left him wanting more.
And so it was that he found himself standing once again across the empty stretch of grass that spread out behind the school, long after the final bell had rung. Given that it was Friday and there were no scheduled sports practices the rest of the grounds were deserted, a fact that gave Matthew no small amount of relief; practicing in front of other people always made him nervous. Despite this small comfort, however, he was distracted. Matthew sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose and under his eyes around the frame of his glasses. He realized in retrospect he probably should have worn his contacts, but the thought of going back into the school to retrieve them from his locker and possibly running into Ivan whilst doing so effectively overrode the voice at the back of his mind nagging him to be safe and cautious.
Matthew stopped rubbing his eyes and sighed again in discontent. His stomach simultaneously twisted unpleasantly and filled with butterflies as he recalled the looks he'd caught Ivan giving him all day. The extra attention alone made him nervous, and the fact that the person paying the attention was his brother's nemesis and one of the scariest people in the school made it all the more unsettling. Reflecting on his day too much wasn't going to help his form, he realized, and probably wouldn't reveal the answer to Ivan's apparent interest in him, so he pushed all the niggling thoughts to the back of his mind.
Matthew squared his shoulders and stared down the length of the track, heart still beating faster than normal from his warm-up run. The heat rose in wavering sheets above the surface of the rubber, making the bottoms of the practice hurdles he'd just laboriously set up appear to churn. With one final calming breath Matthew exploded into motion, springing off the balls of his feet to propel himself lightly and swiftly forward.
The wind whipped his hair back as he ran, and Matthew felt a slight smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he cleared the first hurdle with a soaring leap. He passed over the next nine in a similar fashion and slowed his steps after the last was behind him, breathing a little harder than he had been but not winded. Matthew smiled properly now, pleased with how his run had gone and the rush of adrenaline that was now pumping through his veins.
"Maybe I should lean forward more," he said to himself quietly, lamenting the fact that he had no one to comment on his form. It had felt like he was clearing the hurdles with a bit too much height, however, so he turned and walked back up the track for another try.
He was able to run through three and a half more sets before Ivan's face sprang unbidden into his mind's eye again and he stumbled, falling flat on his face.
"Owwww." Matthew rolled onto his back with a moan, pawing at his nose to make sure his glasses hadn't broken. They didn't feel damaged, but his elbow flared with pain when he moved his arm. He sat up with difficulty and cradled his elbow, twisting to examine the long rubber burn that reddened the skin there with a queasy flop of his stomach.
"You fell over, da?" Matthew let out a shriek befitting of a small child, twisted around, and felt his heart nearly thud to a halt. Ivan was standing by the edge of the track a few feet away from him, looking at him enigmatically. How the hell had he gotten there? Matthew was positive he hadn't been there a minute ago, and the only way to get to the track was to cross the open field from the school. He shivered violently, and the strange feeling of half-terror, half-giddiness returned.
"I-Ivan," Matthew stammered, struggling to stand up and letting out a terrified squeak when Ivan began to stride over, holding out his hand. "U-um…" His throat constricted as Ivan's broad form blotted out the sun. "Uh–" Matthew gulped and hesitantly grabbed the hand being proffered to him. He was promptly pulled to his feet, nearly overbalancing with the force of Ivan's tug. He felt a hand on his arm steady his wobbling and looked up.
"Um, thank you, Ivan. Sorry…" Matthew said quietly – probably too quietly for Ivan to hear, now that he thought about it – and tried to step back surreptitiously. Usually if he stayed quiet and didn't move people would forget he was there. This was very helpful for avoiding bullies or teases like Gilbert and Francis (when they actually remembered he existed in the first place), but could prove very annoying if he was sleepy during a morning class and ended up being marked absent. This tactic, as it turned out, did not work on Ivan; his striking purple eyes remained fixed on Matthew's face no matter how still or quiet he tried to be.
Matthew couldn't decide whether this pleased or horrified him. Probably both.
"Er… Thank you," Matthew said again, hoping to elicit some sort of friendly response from Ivan if he wasn't going to go away. "Was… um, was there something you uh… wanted?" He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously, wondering why exactly Ivan was hanging around the track after school on a Friday afternoon. He had never taken him for the athletic type, despite his apparent love for hockey (a love the two of them shared, Matthew noted) which was made more than evident whenever he and Alfred got into arguments about the politics of the sport.
"I was hoping Matvey could teach me about hurdles," Ivan said finally. Matthew blinked after a few moments of stunned silence and gaped.
"You, um… what?" Matthew noticed for the first time what Ivan was wearing, and his request seemed a little less strange. Instead of his usual school uniform (Matthew had never understood why he wore the winter uniform even in the warmer months) Ivan was wearing a white muscle shirt, blue shorts and a pair of running shoes. To his horror, Matthew felt a violent blush spreading across his cheeks as he took this in. He was unused to seeing so much of Ivan's body, and as it happened he was rather well-built underneath his usual heavy clothing.
The most notable difference by far, however, was the scarf. Or rather, the lack thereof. Matthew had never seen Ivan without it, and he found himself eyeing his bare neck and shoulders with an unsettilng amount of interest.
"Hurdles," Ivan repeated, pulling Mattew's attention back up to his face. "That is what these things are called, da?" He gestured at the hurdle they stood next to, which Matthew had knocked over in his fall.
"Oh. Um, yes, sorry." Matthew stooped quickly to right the fallen hurdle, then turned to face Ivan again, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. He was still struggling to decide whether or not being alone with Ivan was a cause to fear for his safety, and so he settled for letting them hang loosely at his sides, ready to defend himself with in case something should happen. Not that he thought for a second he'd be able to win any kind of fight against Ivan, who towered over him, but it was the thought that counted.
After a moment of debating with himself, Matthew decided to push past his incredulity and humour Ivan. He'd witnessed for himself Ivan's terrible temper more than enough times, being that his idiot brother couldn't ignore their mutual hatred long enough to go a day without getting into a fight with him. Matthew grimaced at the thought of how Alfred would react if he caught them alone together.
"Well, alright then, I suppose. What er… what did you want to know…?" Matthew faltered and trailed off when he realized Ivan was staring at him. He was wearing an intense expression – well, more intense than usual, anyway – that was making Matthew a strange kind of nervous. He cleared his throat.
"What does Matvey think I should know?" Ivan said pleasantly, his singsong voice contrasting sharply with the almost frightening nature of his smile.
"Well, um… I suppose I could just show you, or… Uh, yeah." Matthew waffled. "Um, if that's good for you…" He shifted from foot to foot, finding Ivan's unwavering stare more than uncomfortable. He'd always thought having someone pay attention to him would be a relief, but this was ridiculous. Especially since it was Ivan, of all people - he wondered vaguely if he had something on his face.
Matthew hoped that maybe Ivan would change his mind and go back into the school and stop scaring the crap out of him by just standing there. Ivan nodded, however, and Matthew turned resignedly and headed back to the start line.
"The most important thing is to snap your leg up, out and down," Matthew said as Ivan took his place beside him, "so you can get over the hurdle as quickly as possible without touching it." He glanced up to look at Ivan and was met with a puzzled stare.
"I am not quite sure what you mean. Show me, da?"
"Um, alright." Matthew approached the first hurdle in the line at walking speed; he looked over his shoulder to make sure Ivan was watching, then brought his foot deliberately up over the hurdle and snapped it down. "Oh, the arms are important, too," he remembered, walking back around the hurdle before Ivan could comment and going through the motion again, this time exaggerating the follow-through of his arms. "You have to sort of bend forward at the waist when you do that, too. It helps with momentum. And you should always try to take three steps in between each hurdle, but five is okay if you don't have enough speed." He turned around again, glancing at Ivan to see if he was following.
"Hm. I think I understand," Ivan said slowly. "Show me again going fast. I could not see you very well from across the field earlier."
Matthew gulped nervously at this; how long had Ivan been watching him from the school? Moreover, why had he been watching him? In the interest of getting the impromptu lesson over with, however, he swallowed down his questions and general creeped-out-ness and pushed on.
He squared up to the line of hurdles again, trying not to think too much in his nervousness – he knew from experience that bad things happened when he over-thought hurdling. With a small hop he was off, clearing the hurdles with relative ease despite his self-consciousness. He let himself revel in the smooth motion of the step-step-step-leap-step-step-step pattern of his run for a moment, feeling the nervousness melt from his limbs. It returned full-force when he turned back to walk back to Ivan, however. Matthew noticed as he drew closer that Ivan seemed to be looking at him with something akin to admiration in his expression. Well, that was odd.
"That was very impressive," Ivan said sincerely.
"Oh. Er, thank you," Matthew said, surprise and embarrassment quietening his voice even more so than usual. "So would you like to try it?"
"Da, I think I will. It looks like much fun," Ivan replied.
"You might want to go slowly the first time," Matthew advised – superfluously, as it turned out, as Ivan had already taken off toward the first hurdle. Matthew watched him in alarm, and was surprised when he made it over all ten; he supposed his height and strength accounted for most of this success, as his form was atrocious (Matthew deemed it wise not to tell him as much). He let a small smile form on his face as Ivan made his way back up the track.
"That was really good, Ivan," he said when Ivan was near enough, and was shocked and pleased when the smile he received was more happy and genuine than menacing.
"Really?" Ivan asked as he came to a stop beside him, and Matthew noted he sounded a mite breathless. Perhaps he really wasn't the athletic type, as Matthew had first surmised, despite his athletic build; this made his sudden interest in hurdling all the stranger.
"Yes, especially for your first time." Matthew smiled again, feeling oddly proud. "If you keep working on refining your form you could be even better. Remember to pay attention to your arms."
"I will go again then, da?" Ivan had turned and started another run before Matthew could say anything. Matthew watched him, noting some improvement.
"That was better," he said as Ivan returned, eliciting another of his odd smiles. "If you stand up straighter while you're running in between hurdles it will be easier to get three steps." A nod of affirmation and Ivan was off again, running with an enviable sort of blunt determination and intent.
"I don't think you need me to tell you what to do," Matthew said as Ivan returned to stand next to him for the third time with cheeks flushed from the exercise.
"This is fun though, da? I am happy to spend time with you." Ivan smiled again, and though his words still made Matthew a little uneasy, the warm (albeit still strange to see on Ivan) expression put him more at ease.
"Yes, I had fun." Matthew paused, contemplating his next words. He was surprised at how pleasant Ivan was being, but still wasn't entirely sure if he should be nervous around him or not. But perhaps his brother's negative opinion had skewed his own and he had misjudged Ivan. He had probably been imagining the strange looks from earlier in the day, anyway. "Have you ever thought of joining the track team?" he asked at length, imagining what Alfred would think of his brother going to practices and track meets with his sworn enemy – it was an interesting thought.
"No, I do not really like sports," Ivan said brightly.
"Oh," Matthew frowned, confused. "What got you interested in hurdling so suddenly?"
Ivan responded by taking a swift step forward and kissing him full on the mouth.
Matthew let out a muffled squeak and felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head as Ivan's lips moved against his own, his warmth and presence and musky scent overwhelming his senses. One of Ivan's broad hands lay warm against the small of his back, pressing their torsos so close together that Matthew could feel both of their hearts beating, while the other found its way up to his face, cupping his chin. Ivan pulled away after a few moments, seemingly unfazed by Matthew's lack of response.
"You are much more interesting than hurdles," he stated with another bright smile, then turned back toward the school without another word and strode away.
Matthew gaped at his nonchalantly retreating back in utter disbelief, feeling a violent blush beginning to spread across his cheeks and down his neck. He raised a hand to his lips, mind reeling and skin tingling where Ivan had touched him. The only thoughts that penetrated the haze of shock ringing through his mind were that Alfred was going to kill him, and that the feeling spreading through his chest and limbs probably shouldn't have been quite so warm and fuzzy.
Ivan disappeared into the school and Matthew stood alone again on the track with the row of hurdles, heartbeat faster than even his most intense of workouts could make it race.