Meant to Be: A Chris x Ice Fan Fiction
Blood was pumping in his veins as the thought of what he was about to do flashed in his mind. The mix of want and knowing it was wrong is what excited 25 year old Christophe Giacometti.
He walked up the steps to the ice rink, he took a deep breath as he got ready to open the doors, weeks of planning his night adventure was just about to unfold, his hands twitched as he went to push open the doors. Nothing, the doors were locked. He stepped back looking at them, not believing his eyes, there was no way he was giving up tonight. An idea popped in his mind 'yes this is how I'm going to get in' he thought as he ran the perimeter of the building locating the door in the back he knew this was unlocked, seeing that every night the Zamboni driver left through that door for about an hour before returning, checking his phone, he had 30minutes left before the return. He rushed into the arena, knowing he had to hurry before he was caught and possibly humiliated.
Chris has had these thoughts for most of his post puberty life, thoughts of the ice plagued his mind every time he was near it. The cold, the texture, the feel of it underneath his skates is what made him come back to it. No one in the world can satisfy his needs like the ice can, no one filled his thoughts like the ice could. In the deepest hours of the night when he was alone thinking of the ice was all he could do when he brought himself over to sin and bliss, thinking about what it would be like to be with the ice, while on the ice. This is the dream Christophe was going to accomplish tonight.
He was faced with the rink once again, but no crowd was watching him, he could be free. For 30 minutes he was free to do what he always wanted with no real consequences, adrenaline shooting through his veins, blood rushing to his brain as he saw it, the ice. Reunited finally, it shone under the bright lights of the arena, reflecting every speckle of light into Chris's face, his eyes couldn't leave the beauty of the ice, heart pounding as he gazed at its beauty. After what felt like an eternity he snapped back into the task he was set to do, the task he came here for.
He stepped onto the ice, feeling its firmness underneath the sole of his shoes, it felt right, like he was supposed to be there like they were meant to be there alone together. He looked at his phone, 20 minutes before the return, he had to hurry. Making his way to one of the side, he let his back slide down the wall until he felt the coldness underneath him, the warmth of his body did nothing to warm him up, but he loved it anyway, he didn't care that it was cold, this is why he loved the ice so much. He pressed his right hand over the bulge in his pants, he was already half hard. Not even a minute on the ice and he was already there, ready for the feeling of the ice to take over him. Resting his back on the wall behind him, letting his head fall back as he teased himself over his pants, he could hardly wait until he could feel his bare skin on the cold but soft ice, but he had to wait.
All these years people thought that he was just into his performance on the ice, that him skating is what made him perform so sensually, but in reality, it was the ice itself, the ice was his motivation to continue, it was the ice who made him radiate mature eros in front of everyone. No one knew this part of him, it was his own little secret between him and the ice. People always said that the world is built off meant to be, how Victor Nikiforov was meant to meet Yuuri Katsuki and become his coach, how Yuri Plisetsky was meant to win the gold in his first year in the senior division. Well, Christophe was meant to be with the ice. People might not believe this but their relationship was meant to be, put together by chance, put together by forces of the universe that are not explainable, forces that made them meant to be. No one could understand the strength of their love because their core strength of their love is built on meant to be.
He undid the fly of his pants as he thought of the cold that was underneath him, fingers fumbling with the zipper as he finally decided to commit to what he was about to do. He pulled down his pants best that he could, lifting his behind from the ice as he did so, moaning at the loss of the cold underneath him. Sitting back down he finally felt the cold on his bare skin letting out a strangled moan as the feeling of the ice pressed against the skin of his arse. The moan echoed through the arena, Christophe simply couldn't wait. Deciding to remove his shirt as well throwing it to the side as he rested his back on the wall once again, feeling the coldness that the wall took from the ice, Chris never felt better. 'This was a fantastic idea' he thought as his hand finally touched his awaiting member. He hissed out in pleasure as he started to move his hand over himself.
His back arched as he pumped his hand faster over his shaft, the feeling of the ice underneath him did nothing to help him slow down. He wasn't going to last long if he continued like this. His left hand came up from where it was resting on his leg to circle his nipple
"Yes, that's it," Chris said under his breath as his thumb and forefinger was rolling his hardened nipple. Letting his right hand leave his shaft to fumble his balls was one of the hardest decision he could make, but it was worth it. The cold of the ice that was just a few centimeters away from his package radiated onto himself, feeling the cold that came off the ice on his balls was what made that decision worth it. He played with them until the coldness of them left, saddened by this he rested his hand on the ice for a few seconds before grabbing his throbbing dick back in his hand, screaming out in pleasure as his freezing hand touched his boiling member. He continued to stroke himself faster and faster using his own pre come as a lubricant after increasing his pace. It burned, the pre come alone wasn't enough to make his hand glide properly, but he didn't care, the burning sensation was in the back of his mind, all he could think about was the ice underneath him and how he didn't want this feeling to end. And with that, he let out a moan so loud that if there was someone anywhere near him he was sure they heard him. His head fell back, his left hand left his nipple and clenched as he rested it on his knee. His right hand squeezed his member as he ejaculated all over himself.
Chris has never felt a more powerful orgasm. He caught his breath as he lied back on the wall, looking up into the fluorescent lights shining down on him. And then a realization like to other hit him like a ton of bricks, the time. He hurried to find his phone that was stuck into the pockets of his pants that were shoved below his knees, grasping his phone in his hands he looked at the time. 3minutes left. He let out a relieved sigh as he hurried to get dressed as fast as he could, made difficult by the slipperiness of the ice below him. After a minute of struggling he ran for the back exit, running out the door he saw the headlights of a car approaching the back alley where we was. Chris ran in the opposite direction finally making it to the road next to the arena. He made it out without anyone knowing. This pleased him as his secret will forever be between him and the ice, a secret love affair that was strictly forbidden. Walking back to his hotel a smile was plastered on his face as he thought of his night with the ice.
End
(AN: I'm so sorry)