The moment Sebastian decides to return to the competition circuit, he starts practicing his quadruple Axel. With time running out, he has yet to land one cleanly, and starts to lose hope he ever will.
"Sebastian?"
Kurt steps inside Sebastian's rink through the private entrance on the smooth wall that no one who hasn't been expressly invited inside would ever know about. From the outside, the structure looks like it's constructed out of a single piece of wood with no doors, only windows around the top letting in natural light. This entrance is the only way in from the outside, which means, if you know the secret, Sebastian Smythe must consider you among the best of his friends.
As far as Kurt knows, that's only been a handful of people.
For Kurt, being in on the secret is an honor, especially since, out of all of Sebastian's friends, Kurt is the only one to ever have a key.
"Sebastian? Are you in here?"
The rink is silent, eerily silent, but Kurt knows he's there. He takes a few steps, listening carefully. As he gets closer to the doorway that leads to the ice, he begins to hear it – the roar of Sebastian working his edges, probably crossovers on deep lobes, traveling fast. There's a scrape, a grunt, a momentary silence, and then the sound of a body making contact with something hard – in this case, ice.
"Dammit!" Sebastian growls.
Kurt winces. That fall sounded painful. But it doesn't end there. The roar starts up again, metal cutting through ice, then another scrape/grunt/moment of silence, and this time, the clatter of two blades going Smack!
"Dammit! God fucking dammit!"
Kurt sighs. He rolls his skate bag over to a bench and takes a seat, opting to put on his skates out here instead of inside. He fights not to rush. He wants to help his boyfriend, but he knows there are things that Sebastian needs to work out alone.
Though, after Sebastian's next impact with the ice, Kurt nearly runs out without his laces tightened.
"Motherfucking dammiiiiiittttt!"
Sebastian's obsession with landing a quad Axel began the second he decided to return to competitive skating, and now it's taken over his life. Kurt understands. Quad Axels used to be the pinnacle – the unobtainable. Watching someone land one was akin to seeing a human being fly. It was almost mythical. Kurt's mother told him that's what it was like to see a skater land a triple back in her day. It was considered the height of athleticism for male skaters, and for women – unthinkable. But quad jumps of all varieties have become so commonplace now, it's nearly a requirement. Some judges don't give them much more weight than triples, especially if they aren't landed cleanly, but quads are the direction skating is headed. It's hard not to see it. A lot of the skaters Kurt and Sebastian chat with online predict it won't be long until quad combinations are seen in everybody's repertoire. But Kurt thinks Sebastian is rushing into this too quickly. Kurt has only landed a quad a handful of times, but he's willing to delay including one in his program, work on it slowly and make sure it's perfect.
Make sure he doesn't permanently injure himself in the process.
But Sebastian slipped into his upcoming competition under the deadline. He only has a few weeks to re-work his program to get the quad in. In Kurt's opinion, his program is amazing without it. A triple would be just fine in its place. But not Sebastian, not after he found out who he's up against. If he can't land it, he'll see himself as a failure. He may even decide to stop competing as a figure skater indefinitely.
Whatever Sebastian wants to do, Kurt will support him unreservedly. He seems to have more fun playing hockey anyway. It's less stressful for him, more in line with his character. But the figure skating world would definitely miss out if Sebastian hung up his Riedells for good.
He's too talented not to perform.
Kurt tightens his laces. He stands up and rolls his ankles a few times. He rises up onto the balls of his feet, does a few test hops to make sure his heels are seated properly, and after he's stalled for as long as he can stand, he steps through the door and out into Sebastian's rink. He walks over to the rail and leans against it, watching Sebastian transition from forward crossovers to backward crossovers, flying across the ice at a phenomenal speed. He turns, plants his toe pick, then launches himself into the air to perform his Axel.
The setup is nearly perfect, but Kurt can see from the second he goes into jump position, something's not right. He hesitates. It's just a fraction of a hair of a second, but seeing as Kurt has done the same thing a thousand times, he recognizes it when it happens. Sebastian leaps, manages the four and a half rotations, but lands too deep on his edge. He hits the ice on his hip, rolls quickly to his blades, and is back on his feet in an instant, ready to start again.
Kurt wants to call out to him, beg him to stop and take a breather, but he doesn't have to. Their eyes meet as Sebastian circles the rink.
He looks harried.
Exhausted.
Defeated.
Kurt puts up a hand and waves him over, and Sebastian obeys, even though he's more than determined to continue with his torture.
"Looking good," Kurt says as Sebastian glides to a stop.
"Yeah, right." Sebastian sniffs hard and runs a hand through his hair.
"Fine." Kurt shrugs one shoulder. "Don't believe me, Mr. Stubborn. But just one question - who are you trying to kill?"
Sebastian looks down at his right skate, his ankle sore from repeated missed landings. "Me, apparently. I'm never going to land this jump."
"That quad will come when you're ready. When you let go of judgements and doubts, give up striving for perfection … and just feel it." Kurt removes his blockers from his blades and sets them aside. "Not a second before."
"And what idiot told you that?" Sebastian swizzles backward a foot to let Kurt on the ice, already setting his frame in position to dance with his boyfriend.
As much as he wants to land that jump, he wants to skate with Kurt more.
"You know who." Kurt slides into Sebastian's embrace, takes his hand, and off they go, spiraling across the ice in a waltz formation they've practiced so many times, it has become a part of their DNA.
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't believe everything you hear," Sebastian says, slightly embarrassed at having his own words thrown back at him, especially considering the hell he's been putting himself through. He has to make this jump. There's no if, ands, or buts about it. If he doesn't have a quad, he doesn't have a program.
It's over for him, long before it ever began.
After everything that has happened to him professionally, becoming not only Kurt's figure skating coach but the coach of both the Westerville Ice-plex hockey teams, he thought he could leave his own figure skating career behind. Or, at least, take a break - bow out of the limelight, then show up again a few years later in Stars on Ice.
He didn't think he'd mourn it this badly.
"You know, jumps don't always matter," Kurt says, reading his boyfriend's mind from the far-off look in his eyes.
"The ISU doesn't make it seem that way, do they?" Sebastian chuckles, but there's no humor in it. Just more frustration, more exhaustion … more disappointment. Sebastian runs another hand through his hair and stares down at his boots as if his Riedell skates with their MK Blades (the finest money can buy), and the ice beneath him are withholding something from him, answers to a question that he's already answered in his mind.
He's not good enough.
He'll never make the jump because it isn't in him. It never was.
And no matter how many times he launches himself into the air, he'll never land it. Within the silence, he seems to remember that Kurt is there with him. He glances up at his boyfriend, a smile waiting on his rosy pink lips, and Sebastian can't help smiling himself, even if it's not much of one.
"Then what does, Master Jedi Hummel?"
"You," Kurt says. "You matter. Your heart matters."
"Yeah, but all athletes have heart. Don't you watch those commercials for the Olympics? The ones that manage to hawk dedication and Campbell's soup in one sixty second segment?"
"True, but skating is unique. It's one of those sports that's as much about emotion as it is about athleticism. In many sports, being emotional can be a deficit, but for us, it's a requirement. You have to share your emotions - your heart - with your audience. For that three or so minutes you're on the ice, you have to let them in, make yourself vulnerable. If you don't have heart, you're just a machine. But you, Sebastian …" Kurt sighs, gazing into his boyfriend's eyes as if they contained all of the beauty in the world, all of its passion "… I know you try to leave it at the door. And yes, there's so much you have to. But not your heart. And you have so much heart to share, it wouldn't matter if your program was full of quads, or if it had no jumps in it at all. The jumps don't make your skating special. You do."
"You think so?" Sebastian says, on the bitter edge of making a sarcastic retort, but Kurt beats him to the punch.
"I know so."
Sebastian nods, gaze focused across the ice, letting his boyfriend's words sink in as they spiral together, Kurt letting Sebastian take the lead and following where he goes. They swoop and spin, traveling so swiftly that Kurt actually whoops, which makes Sebastian laugh. He looks from the path ahead to Kurt's flushed and smiling face, a twinkle of understanding blossoming in his eyes. He twirls Kurt around, holding him with only one hand, moving farther and farther away. Kurt can only assume what he's intending to do – side by side camel spins, maybe double Axels. Sebastian usually clues Kurt in a second before, but he doesn't say a word. He holds Kurt's hand a moment longer … then lets go. With eyes locked on his bemused boyfriend, Sebastian sails across the ice on crossovers, his outside blade cutting across his inside so quickly, it's almost a blur.
Kurt glides to a stop as Sebastian flips direction, holding his outside edge. He turns, plants his toe pick into the ice, and leaps into the air – four and a half perfect rotations and the landing …
… stuck, his opposite outside edge meeting the ice as if he had done it that same way a thousand times.
Kurt stares at his boyfriend, awestruck.
Sebastian doesn't celebrate it. He doesn't cheer, doesn't turn cartwheels, doesn't pump his fist in the air. He returns to his boyfriend, wraps his arms around him, and holds him, breathing so hard he shakes Kurt's whole body.
"That was … that was amazing!" Kurt gushes. "You made it look so easy!"
"Well, you inspired me," Sebastian says, laying kisses in Kurt's hair.
Kurt shakes his head. "You felt it in your heart and you showed it with you skates. That had nothing to do with me."
"You are my heart …" Sebastian takes Kurt's hand off his shoulder and brings it to his lips. Kurt's skin is cold, but it warms quickly beneath the heat of Sebastian's kisses "… so it had everything to do with you."
Kurt blushes, biting his lower lip as his boyfriend blows warm air across his knuckles. "Do you think these up yourself? Or do you steal them from Hallmark cards?"
"Pinterest."
Kurt presses their foreheads together, feeding the smirk on his boyfriend's face with a slow, congratulatory kiss. "Shut up and skate with me, Smythe. And we'll see what else I inspire you to do."