Chapter Three #3
She wrapped him in a tight hug, which Finn returned, then tugged on the end of her ponytail because he was still a big brother, after all. “You’re fine. Go enjoy your movie-night sleepover. As long as Robbie doesn’t object?”
“Do I get to eat the popcorn too?”
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “It’s your popcorn, Uncle Robs.”
Robbie smiled. “Well, I’m sold, then. Our chariot awaits.” He pushed the button on his key fob, then glanced back at Finn and said, “This is definitely going to happen again.”
Sawyer yelped indignantly. Imogen just blushed.
“Maybe we should add the two of you to the family group chat.” That had sounded so reasonable and less… incredibly forward in Finn’s head. Oh well.
“Ah, we should be so lucky.” Robbie waved. “Have a good night, Finn. See you soon.”
He raised his hand to wave back. “Yeah. Goodnight.”
Finn got back in his car and started it, then waited for Robbie’s SUV to move before he put his own in gear.
Part of him said he could try to be a little annoyed about the inconvenience, but truthfully, Finn would rather they double up for the kids than leave them stranded any day.
Besides, he liked talking to Robbie even more now that he’d discovered unforeseen depths—he could be silly and give deep advice about aging at the same time.
Maybe Finn liked talking to him a little too much, actually, considering how closely they’d be working together in the next few weeks. But he was a professional; he could deal with his attraction without acting on it or making the straight guy uncomfortable.
Shaking himself, Finn signaled to exit the parking lot. If he no longer had a movie night tonight, he could hit the hay early and start thinking about his next moves on the ice.
It was no surprise to Robbie that he enjoyed the return to routine, getting up every day and going to the gym, even if the stuff he did there looked different to what he’d done before.
Today was their first full day of training, and he and Finn had one of the unfilmed workout spaces booked first. Finn was going to walk him through some basic ice-dancing steps, and then, after lunch, they’d meet with Stef to pick a song and build their choreography.
In the meantime, here Robbie was, in sneakers, basketball shorts, and an old team-branded T-shirt, staring incredulously at Finn, who was holding a squat expectantly, both hands extended.
“I can’t do that,” Robbie protested.
“Why not?”
“I’ll squash you.”
Finn gave Robbie a clinical once-over. “You’re fine. Don’t be a baby.”
A baby? Just because he thought it was a bad idea to climb Finn like a tree and shove his ass—or his crotch, Finn said he wasn’t picky—right in Finn’s face? When Finn might drop him? Or Robbie might lose his balance and fall and bust his head open, and then who would look after Sawyer?
“Do I need to get the weights out to prove I can hold you?”
Okay, no, that would not make Robbie feel better.
“Come on. Just step up. Your legs are long enough. Once you see how to do it from this side, we can try it the other way around.”
Finn had held the squat for a worryingly long time already. Robbie might as well get this over with.
“I can’t believe you do this on skates,” Robbie muttered as he took his place to Finn’s right. “And people think goalies are crazy.”
“Figure skates have wider blades,” Finn said for probably the hundredth time. “And your pants will have Kevlar padding in them. Stop stalling, man, I’m going grey over here.”
With a deep breath and a deeper sense of resignation, Robbie took the two steps closer to Finn and rotated his body toward him. On the third step, he grabbed Finn’s hand and turned as he set his right foot on Finn’s thigh. Then he finished the rotation and—
“Huh,” he said faintly.
Finn hadn’t even flinched. Now Robbie was standing on his thighs, his back to Finn.
“Good,” Finn said. “See? No big deal. Although if we were doing this lift in competition, you’d have to stand up straighter.”
Easier said than done, balancing the way Robbie was. What kind of core strength did these people have? “Do I have to?”
Finn snorted. “Nah. Just—did you feel how I moved with you? Kind of making sure you landed right? That and keeping me steady is all you have to worry about.”
“Also not getting my dick sliced off by an errant blade,” Robbie grumbled.
“You’re wearing basketball shorts. Unless you’ve got it taped to a stupid spot on your leg right now, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”
Robbie smirked. “Hey, you don’t—”
Finn arched an eyebrow. “If it reaches that close to your knees, I’m calling Guiness World Records.”
Robbie snorted. “Uh, Finn?”
“Yeah?”
“How do I… dismount?”
“You sort of jump while also pushing off with your hands. I can help so you’re not pushing all your weight on my thighs.”
Finn put his hands on Robbie’s hips and pushed up at the same time Robbie gently hopped, pushing off Finn’s legs and shoulders. He landed on his feet, with only a minor stumble.
“Your turn now.” Finn clapped, then motioned for Robbie to get into position—mimicking Finn’s earlier pose and squatting so that his thighs were bent enough to stand on.
Finn placed his hands on Robbie’s shoulders and explained, “Easiest way is one foot at a time, so your shoulders and right thigh are going to have to hold all of my weight for a moment.”
“Right.” Robbie shifted his weight and nodded that he was ready.
“Put your hands on my hips, it’ll help you with anticipating my movements.”
“Logical.” Robbie placed his hands and tried not to think about the last time he was in a similar position with another man.
“Remember to lean into it. Follow me. Right? Okay, here we go.” Finn leapt up and suddenly he was standing on Robbie’s thighs, and huh, that was easier than Robbie thought it would be.
It wasn’t like Finn weighed nothing or that Robbie didn’t feel it, but thanks to Finn’s strength and skill to spread his weight and hold himself up, it didn’t feel like having someone stand on him.
Robbie tested his hold on Finn’s hips and felt the weight of him on his thighs and shoulders. He’d learned long ago, when learning a new move, to take the time to feel it in his body. He breathed in and centred himself as he would during a yoga pose.
“How does it feel?” Finn asked.
Robbie looked up, which was when he noticed they were all but face to crotch. It wasn’t the first time that Robbie’s athletic… his sporting pursuits landed him in positions that might be considered intimate in other circumstances.
So it also wasn’t the first time that Robbie had to remind his hind brain to stay on task.
Finn smiled down at him.
“Uh, good. Good. Less pressure than I expected.”
“Right? Okay. Time for me to hop off.” He landed more nimbly than Robbie had.
“I’d clap,” said a voice near the doorway, “but that seems like a bad idea with a broken collarbone.”
“Stef!” Finn opened his arms for a gentle hug. “How are you?”
“Doing all right. I’m on good drugs, which helps. Robbie, nice to see you again.”
“You too. I was sorry to hear about your injury. I hope you’re recovering okay.”
She shrugged, then winced. “Doctors are happy on that front. Should be able to compete next season. Sorry to miss out on partnering with you, though.”
Robbie pulled an exaggerated face. “Right? Instead you’ve stranded me with this guy.”
“Hey!”
Ignoring Finn’s outburst, Stef turned a sardonic expression on Robbie. “Yes, it looks like you’re having a terrible time.”
He opened and closed his mouth, found he had no rejoinder, and finally shrugged. “Caught me.”
“Hmm,” Stef said. “You didn’t catch Finn, however.”
“He didn’t ask me to.”
Stef clapped him on the shoulder. Or she would have if she could’ve reached it. It was really just above the elbow. “One step at a time, I get it. And right now, it’s time for lunch. Come with me to the cafeteria so we can feed you and you can tell me what you’re going to dance to.”
The show had set up craft services in the arena’s cafeteria, and Robbie grabbed a slight variation on his usual hockey-season lunch—just as much protein but fewer carbs, based on his nutritionist’s recommendation.
He, Finn, and Stef found a table at one side of the room, away from any other teams who might eavesdrop, and set down their trays.
Stef stuck her fork into a bowl that was 40 percent chicken breast and boiled eggs but called itself a salad.
“So.” She pulled an iPad out of her bag, slid it across the table, and turned on the screen.
“I’ve come up with a short list of songs I think will fit the theme and would also fit the two of you, but if you don’t see anything that strikes your fancy, I’m open to other ideas. ”
Pulling the iPad between them so they could both see it, Finn bit into his pita wrap.
Curious, Robbie shoveled food into his mouth mechanically as he scanned down the list. Stef hadn’t included music Robbie might’ve recognized as actual swing music, like “In the Mood.” Most of the tracks were modern songs with lyrics.
When he asked her about it, she wiped a drip of salad dressing from the corner of her mouth and said, “Yeah, so—the thing is, the challenge is swing dance style, not necessarily swing music. And you can swing dance to things that aren’t technically swing music.
The real key to a good ice-dance performance isn’t just doing the steps in the right order, it’s telling a story with the dance.
That’s why music with lyrics works better, especially if you’re beginners. ”
“Okay, that makes sense.” Robbie nodded. “But, like, what story are we telling with ‘Ex’s then a slow smile spread across his face. “Have either of you seen 10 Things I Hate About You?”
“Yes,” Stef frowned, and then it cleared as she too slowly smiled. “Oh, yes, I see. Are you thinking similar… vibes?”
“Yup.”
“And,” Stef continued, biting back a grin, “you’re not thinking of giving yourself the male role, are you.”
“Nope.”
Stef turned to give Robbie a considering look. He wondered if he gave Heath Ledger vibes. “Okay, yes, I see it.” He wanted to preen, but before he could, Finn waggled his eyebrows.
“Right?”
“We could—”
“Yes, with the—”
“Excellent.”
“Anyone want to enlighten me?” Robbie cut in, because this mind meld thing was cute but not informative.
Finn gasped dramatically, hand to chest. “You’ve never seen—?”
And Robbie had, of course, but he couldn’t resist. “Ten Things Something?”
Finn moaned. “Robbie! That is a crime, and we need to fix that immediately.”
“Right now?” He arched an eyebrow. This was too much fun.
“Okay, maybe not immediately, but soon. In the meantime, though.”
“In the meantime,” Stef agreed, tapping on her tablet, “the movie has a scene where the romantic lead sings ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ to his prospective partner.”
“He pulls a stunt,” Finn added. “Enlists the marching band, pays off the AV club, gets caught by the school security and chucked into detention. Very dramatic.”
“Very swoon-worthy.”
Finn waggled his eyebrows. “Well, it is a young Heath Ledger. Be still my teenage bisexually awakened heart.”
“So,” Robbie said slowly, “let me get this not-straight. You want to cast me as the late gay-icon Heath Ledger to play your romantic leading man in a dance drama in which I woo you, because this was responsible for your bisexual awakening.”
Stef coughed into her napkin.
“When you put it like that, it sounds bad.” Finn pouted.
“Should I put it another way?”
“That I clearly love the song because it was part of my childhood and I want to share that joy with you?”
Stef had another coughing fit.
“Uh-huh.” Robbie took a bite.
Finn huffed. “Also, the tempo is just right for swing, and it should work well to tell a story.” He stuck his tongue out.
Robbie held up his hands. “I’ll take your word for all that, since I don’t know anything about… anything.” A lie—Robbie loved drama as much as any other queer—but one he’d keep in his pocket for later.
“You said it,” Finn chirped.
“You two are better entertainment than TV, which is a good thing since you’ll be on it soon. Eat up and we’ll start choreographing.” She cocked her head at Finn. “You going to backseat choreograph?”
“I mean, no more than you ever did.”
Stef hummed skeptically, but left it, and they finished their lunch without further shop talk.