Summary: Sebastian tries to cheer up a melancholy Kurt, heartbroken by all of the changes the pandemic has brought about in their home rink.
Notes: I had plans of writing pandemic fics in all of my verses, so this is the start of that. This one-shot includes a callback at the end to 'Blessing the Ice in Westerville' so if you don't remember that one, you may want to go back and read it first ;)
"Whatcha thinking?" Sebastian asks, plowing to a stop. He slides onto the bench beside Kurt and gives him the chastest peck in the universe behind his right ear.
Cockblocked by his mask, it's the best he can do.
Kurt misses his boyfriend's warm lips on his chill skin, but he smiles because there's something so sweet and dorky about it. Sebastian can tell he's smiling - the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling and the bridge of his nose scrunching.
But it doesn't make him look happy.
It's rare as hell to find Kurt sitting it out in the penalty boxes. He loves skating more than life. He needs to go, go, go - moves in the field, practice his routine, help a wall-walker find their way without their hands creeping along the boards. The entire time Sebastian has known Kurt, he's probably seen him sit for a grand total of fifteen minutes.
He's broken that record today.
"You know, almost every time you come to see me, you ask me what I'm thinking," Kurt says, stalling for a moment before he has to come clean. "Am I that much of an enigma?"
"Yes," Sebastian answers accompanied by an exaggerated nod of his head like a trained horse doing math. Kurt giggles. They've joked numerous times about how ridiculous everyone is going to look when they can finally eschew their masks with how vehemently they nod and emote with their eyes. It's going to look like living in an anime for a while until everything returns to normal.
Kurt sighs.
If it ever does return to normal.
Sebastian rests a hand on Kurt's knee and gives it a squeeze. "Come on, babe. I know there are some deep thinkery things going on in that head of yours. Let it out."
Kurt leans to the side and settles against Sebastian's body but his eyes never leave the ice. It's a relatively busy day at the Westerville Ice-plex, the rink filled to capacity. But because of restrictions, that means there are only twenty people on the ice, including him and Sebastian. On a Thursday afternoon, they would usually see closer to fifty kids and a handful of coaches, EZ skaters and Bobby seals zipping around treacherously like Mario cart vehicles. With the rink packed, the talking and laughter would drown out the music.
"Things are so different," Kurt says.
"I know," Sebastian agrees.
"We were lucky over quarantine. Me and you and Blaine had your rink to train in every day - rain or shine. Things didn't change for us all that much training-wise. But for everybody else, skating was impossible. It didn't even get cold enough this winter for my pond to freeze over so anyone who was relying on an ODR was SOL." Sebastian snorts and Kurt chuckles, the laugh they share more melancholy than amused. It fades quickly. "So many of our skaters had dreams of going to the Olympics. But they canceled Nationals, and then Worlds, and now... " Kurt's eyes trail the progress of a few freestyle skaters struggling with elements they had mastered six months ago. "It's heartbreaking to see them derailed."
Sebastian puts an arm around his boyfriend and hugs him. "Well, if you're looking for a silver lining," he starts in an iffy tone, "with the number of rinks that got shuttered over lockdown, Beiste is going to be up to her bushy eyebrows with business. This place is never going to close."
"And whereas that's good news for the Ice-plex, think of all the kids who have to give up skating because their rink closed down and they can't travel here."
"Yeah... uh... " Sebastian clears his throat "... I only thought about that after I said it."
"This pandemic changed everyone's forward momentum," Kurt continues, giving his boyfriend a pass. "We have pair skaters that have split up, Disney on Ice canceled auditions so that dream is busted for a few seniors, Blaine told me that the synchro and performance teams at his old rink are both no more... it's not fair."
"No, it's not fair."
"I just wish there was something we could do."
"I know." Sebastian sinks into his boyfriend, mourning the loss of Kurt's hair against his cheek with his mask keeping the two of them apart. He wants nothing more than to fix this for Kurt, bring things back to the way they were and put everyone back on track, but the only thing Sebastian is good at in the way of problem-solving skills is throwing money at things and, ironically, as rich as his family is, they don't have the kind of money necessary to solve this.
In cruel, corporate terms, the pros do not outweigh the financial risks.
It's not just that missing out on months of steady business dropped rinks into the red. A lot of them were poorly managed. Shutting their doors revealed problems these facilities didn't admit they had - rotting pipes, faulty wiring, cooling systems holding on only because of the ice and grime that had built up inside them. Once the condensers were shut off to conserve energy, whole units fell apart.
And, as it turns out, they cost an arm and a leg to repair, not to mention replace.
If the Westerville Ice-plex was in danger of closing, Sebastian would talk his uncle into handing over a blank check. Unfortunately, they can't do that for everyone.
"I think the best thing we can do is focus on here and now," Sebastian says. "What can we do inside these walls to make things better, even if it's just for the next half hour or so?"
"Do you have any suggestions?" Kurt asks. "Because, for the moment, I'm tapped."
"Well... " Sebastian starts, drawing the word out, hoping brilliance comes to him "... one of the reasons I spent so much time here even though I have a facility of my own was because of my friends. We used to horse around, make up routines, compete with one another, race each other down the ice..."
"Okay, but there are strict rules against horseplay now."
"I'm not talking about roughhousing. I mean the stuff we used to do with the kids in skate school to make it fun. Things that we can do while staying six feet apart. I mean, everyone here loves us... "
Kurt snickers. "Ah, humility. Thy name is Sebastian Smythe."
"I bet you if we get something started, everyone would join in."
"What do you have in mind?" Kurt asks, recalling the things they used to do with the kids when skate school was still running - blowing bubbles, tossing balls, playing Sharks and Swimmers (which is kind of like tag while fully accepting that, if someone falls, they could potentially spear another player in the leg with their blade).
Sebastian tilts his head, going through a similar list in his mind, trying to come up with an activity that would work with their current crowd. There are mainly regulars on the ice - the freestyle kids daring enough to court possible contamination for the chance to get their Axels back. He follows two girls with his eyes, mirroring one another as they make their way down the ice.
He gets an idea.
A hilarious idea.
"Are we expecting Blaine anytime soon?" he asks, shoving his hand in his jacket pocket and fishing around. Kurt looks around Sebastian's body, checking the time on the scoreboard.
"Yeah. Any minute now." Kurt's head snaps up. He peers suspiciously at his boyfriend's eager face. What plan could Sebastian have come up with that would include Blaine specifically? Is he going to tie him to a goal and have the kids take shots at him again? Thank God for foam pucks is all Kurt can say about that genius plan. "Why?"
Sebastian pulls his key tag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of Kurt's eyes. "Because I do believe it's time to bless the rains down in Africa again."