A/N: Again... I am not affiliated with the United States Figure Skating Championship... nor the processes involved in selection to the Olympic Team. This little outing is for fun. Some aspects might be similar to professional figure skating, where others are my own input for my story, of course at its heart this is just all about Brian & Justin. =) Please continue to leave your thoughts... they motivate me and the plot bunny to move forward! Oh... please don't kill the writer for the horrible cliffhanger. I just wanted to get this updated so badly before returning to work & just had to cut it off. *Heads off to duck for cover!*
Chapter 3
Mel lowered her binoculars to nudge Lindsay softly in the side eliciting an irritated grumble from her partner. "Look at him! He looks as if he is falling asleep at the table."
"For God's sake, Mel. Give the man a break. No one is skating right now. They are announcing the next participant," Lindsay answered, while continuing to look on to watch Brian's attention to the competiton... or lack thereof.
"Well, guess it doesn't really matter. He showed up... thats a miracle in itself," Mel scoffed.
Lindsay lowered the binoculars, turning to glare at her partner. As much as she loved Mel, the constant attacks on Brian were beginning to get on her last nerve. Of course, she couldn't say Brian was much better regarding Mel... but she didn't live with him, nor hear it from him, day in and day out. Trying to be discreet scrunched tightly inside the arena, Lindsay snapped, "Just let it go, Mel. Don't forget Brian is doing me a huge favor here. And, when he helps me... he is in essence helping us... "
"Fine, whatever. I don't want to argue with you, Linz. Just keep in mind he is only helping you if he actually does the job he is here to do. As it is right now... he doesn't seem very focused," Mel shrewdly observed.
Flipping open her phone, she texted him: Brian, I hope you realize you are here to do a job. Not mope around like you have lost your best friend. Please, focus... these contestants are counting on you.
"There, I texted him regarding his behavior... happy now?" Lindsay grumbled, before returning her gaze to the ice and the next of the participants. "Thankfully, the list isn't as long this year. Justin is up after this one. I have a feeling Brian will perk up nicely then... "
"Oh, that's just great. Our young friend will be eye fucked or worse then. I'm telling you if he fucks this up for Justin... that will be the last straw," Melanie said between gritted teeth.
"If he somehow ruins Justin's chances, which I don't believe that he will... you will have to take your place in line behind ME."
Meanwhile...
Daphne began bouncing excitedly in her seat, looking at the program noting Justin would be up in mere moments. "Look, Mrs. Taylor... Justin is up next."
"Yes, I know, Daphne. I do hope he does well," Jennifer Taylor whispered, in an uncustomary show of nervousness.
"Oh, don't worry. Justin will ace this event. Have you been watching? The rest of his competition have received only average marks so far. And, this is only for the short program. I do hope I talked him out of attempting the quad... I know he wants to impress the judges, most especially one in particular, but he just isn't ready for that," Daphne murmured hesitantly.
"Quad? He wouldn't, would he? As soon as Brian Kinney was named as judge I was worried. This is Justin's dream... and to skate for him is awe inspiring for him. I just hope he can handle the pressure."
Peering down at the judges table, trying to find the one in question, Daphne soon found the only man who could possibly be Justin's hero. He was too far away to see what he was actually doing, but it looked like he was entering his marks for the current contestant. With a sigh, she answered, "Well, we will know soon. Oh, I didn't tell you. Justin texted me a short while ago to say he had met Brian before the event started. He said he was very encouraging and actually nice to him. It's going to be fine, Mrs. Taylor... I just know it is."
Jennifer, suddenly a bundle of nerves nodded, as she clutched onto her armrest in a virtual death grip, watching as the skater's marks were posted. She groaned when she saw the tabulated average populate across the boards. Shaking her head, she gasped, "This one, the man from Springfield, Illinois - Martin Levinsky was the one to worry about... look at his marks. 5.69. The highest score is a 6.0... nobody ever gets that. Justin will need to be flawless. Oh my God, I almost can't bear to watch... "
"No, you have to watch... for Justin. He will do it... he has to! This is his dream. I swear he will do it," Daphne vowed fervently as she waited for the announcement to be made.
Moments later, she heard the bold announcement across the PA system. Next, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - at 21 years of age, Justin Taylor skating to a condensed version of Bohemian Rhapsody.
Daphne's eyes narrowed straight ahead to await Justin's emergence onto the ice, her eyes slicing over to the judges table, even from the distance she noticed the back of Brian Kinney straightening when Justin's name was called. She smiled in remembrance with part of the message she didn't feel comfortable repeating to Justin's mom: Daph, I swear when I was walking away... Brian Kinney was checking out my ass. As Justin skated out to the middle of the ice, head held down waiting for his music to begin, she applauded and whispered under her breath, "Focus, Justin... you can do it. Show the man of your dreams how fucking awesome you are, because I have the feeling he is going to be watching very closely... "
Minutes earlier, Brian had felt the vibration of his Iphone. Uncaring that it was highly inappropriate to be reading it now, he opened it to scowl at Lindsay's not unexpected reprimand. He figured they would be here watching him closely, most especially the bitch that was assisting in the raising of his son. He closed it in irritation, glaring at the judges on both sides of him that huffed at his lack of attention to the task at hand. He began to tap his fingers on the table impatiently waiting for the next competitor to take the ice, unwilling to admit to himself that he could be anxiously anticipating one particular blue-eyed, blond that was to be following directly thereafter.
Forcing himself to remember why he was here, he concentrated on the current skater; a 22 year old from Illinois. Brian watched him move about the ice... his program technically flawless, yet there was no fire to it. Nothing original... nothing he hadn't viewed a hundred times over before, both in his own experience watching his own competition, little that there actually had been, along with as a spectator. He looked to his left and right incredulously as he heard the other judges giving ooohs and ahhhs as he twirled in front of them, before launching into a triple toe loop, landing it perfectly before them, proceeding to zig and zag around the arena to build up to his finish.
Were these idiots blind? Where was the passion on the ice? The finesse that took your breath away from everything that did not revolve around the sheer perfection of this skilled art... it was missing in this performance; and still these judges were enamored of this stiff, yet unflawed program. He shook his head in disbelief as he entered his marks, giving a much higher score than he thought was deserved, growling at himself when he noticed he misclicked on a 5.6 when he had wanted to enter a 4.6. "Fuck," he growled aloud, seeing once he had entered his scores, he could not change it.
"Is there a problem, Brian?" came the nasally voice of the most recent Olympic Silver Medalist that was no longer competing in professional figure skating.
"Sure is, Clyde. This system where it locks in is fucked up. Entered my score wrong, probably in irritation at how this group was fussing over something that was mediocre at best," Brian snapped in response.
"What do you care, anyways? You obviously don't want to be here... in fact, you turned your back on the sport years ago," came the disinterested retort.
"It doesn't mean I want the wrong person to win."
"The wrong person, as you so eloquently phrase it is considered to be a top contender, outside of the dark horse that is up next. Now, that one is impressive. If he does a program with no miscues, he could win it all," Clyde told him, obviously speaking of Justin Taylor.
"If he is that good... why a dark horse?" Brian asked, more curious than he wanted to admit.
"Simple lack of exposure. He has competed at a few events. Medaled in all of them, but the training program he is under is not high profile. If he wins this event, he will need a stricter more seasoned coach if he is to succeed at the Olympic level," he answered, soon to wave Brian quiet as Justin Taylor was being announced to take the ice.
Brian rolled his eyes at the comment, another remark of idiocy. He had a sub-standard coach... and look how he finished. Certainly, it was beneficial... most particularly in the case of one that needed extra guidance... but if you truly had the gift it was not necessary. Smiling as he remembered his meeting with the gorgeous Justin Taylor, he hoped the blond had it in spades. For some unknown reason, he really wanted this boy to excel.
Moments later, Brian's eyes felt to be bulging out of the sockets as he watched the boy skating out onto the middle of the ice. "Holy fuck," he rasped out unintentionally as his eyes focused on the tightly bound pants and sequined shirt of this all too perfect blond vision. He leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand wondering if he was about to commence drooling at any given moment. The pants gave the illusion of being painted onto his slender, yet perfectly proportioned form. The sparkling of the sequins on his shirt were dazzling and brought attention to the compact, yet oh so masculine chest. Brian shook his head in wonder at the perfection of this exquisite morsel.
A morsel that the hunter fully intended to seek and devour... at the earliest given opportunity.
How the fuck had they both lived in Pittsburgh and never crossed paths? Well, Mr. Taylor, Brian smirked to himself... that had now changed. I do hope you give the performance of a lifetime today... because when I get my hands on your delectable ass, not to mention the well endowed cock I can see so beautifully displayed you will be on the receiving end of another kind of performance. In one that I excel. Oh yes, my little blond skater boy, I am going to fuck you so very soon.
His eyes glazed over in lust and a need like he had never previously known before this moment, he whispered in his mind: I will fuck you so hard you will beg me to stop... and when you beg me to finish you, I will... before I start again.TBC