Skating
This story is mine, under my pennames (TrianglePascal or Icey_the_Fox). Please don't steal it, 'cause that's a douche move.
This story is more or less a love story from me to the city that makes me feel warmest when I'm at my coldest.
"So you're telling me you've never skated on the Rideau?"
"Well, no. It's not something I'm really interested in doing."
"Mon oeil!" the coyote spat, rolling his eyes. "You're living in fucking Ottawa. You can't go all winter without skating on the canal."
"I'm not much of a skater," the gecko replied defensively. "Besides, it can't be too different from skating anywhere else."
The coyote glared at him for a moment or two, then glanced over his shoulder, and called out, "Eh, Joshua! Tu as entendu tout ça?"
"Ouai!" a nearby cougar replied, stepping forward. "C'est ridicule, non?"
"On doit se faire que'qu'chose!"
The amphibian let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in his chair. He hated it when Rémi started speaking French. He could always make out a few words, but after that, it all just blew over his head. Not to mention, the coyote had the annoying tendency to switch into his northern Quebecois accent whenever he didn't want the gecko to understand. For Damien's weak command of Parisian French, it was just too much.
"They speaking French again?" a voice asked, and Damien perked up a bit, glancing over to see a short arctic fox standing by one of the stoves, mixing a stir-fry around over one of the elements. He tapped his spoon against the edge of his pan, then walked over to the table where the other three were seated. "Makes me wish we hung out with more math majors, so I could just start talking about isometries or something whenever they do that."
"Fortunately, we aren't all geeks," the gecko replied, but there was a grin on his face as he said it. "A few of us actually have rational minds."
"Coming from the music major?" the fox asked, feigning insult. "It's all just math, you know."
"I keep hearing that, but until I have to write the dimension of a line or whatever with my violin, I'm not gonna believe it."
"Then it's decided!" Rémi said, drawing the gecko and the fox's attentions back to the other two occupants of the table. Rémi and Joshua both had pleased looks on their faces as the coyote went on, "We're taking you skating tonight!"
"Tonight?" Damien demanded, throwing a glance to the dark window. "It's already, like, eleven!"
"What's wrong, scaly?" Joshua asked, a smirk in his eyes, "afraid you're gonna turn into a pumpkin?"
"I've got an eight thirty class tomorrow, and unlike some people," the gecko shot a look at Rémi, "I don't like skipping them."
"So go to class tired," the coyote offered.
"I have to play tomorrow!"
"Then I'll get up and brew you some coffee," Rémi said, his accented voice sounding exasperated. "Come on, it's not like it'll be the first time you've stayed up late with me, and the other times we were engaged in far more demanding activities."
Joshua's smirk widened and the arctic fox snorted, covering up his muzzle to keep himself from laughing aloud. Damien blushed hard, his long, thick tail lashing a bit in embarrassment. He opened his mouth once to speak, then shut it, obviously thinking better of his rebuttal. Finally, he opened it again, and said, "I don't have any skates."
"You can borrow Ian's," the cougar offered, glancing over to the arctic fox in question. "Can't he?"
Ian glanced over to Damien, and seeing the gecko's pleading look, the fox shrugged, and said, "Not happening. I'm not getting dragged into this."
"Do it and I'll have a study break with you later."
The fox visibly twitched, his eyes widening slightly. Slowly, he looked back to Damien. The gecko shot him a demanding and expectant look. There was no way that Ian would sell him out, was there? It wasn't like he would just-
"I'll go and grab 'em," the fox said, standing up quickly. He picked up a heavy math textbook that was sitting on the table, awkwardly holding it over his crotch as he stood up. He headed directly for the dorm kitchen's door, and pushed it open, calling over his shoulder, "Don't let supper burn."
The three of them watched the bothered fox walking down the hallway for a bit through the glass walls, before Joshua said, a predatory grin on his face, "Foxes. So easy to manipulate."
With that, the cougar got up and headed over to the element to tend to the stir-fry. This left Rémi and Damien at the table. The gecko glared at him, but the irrepressible coyote simply shrugged and said,
"You'll thank me. Bien-tôt."
"I don't know why I stay with you sometimes," the gecko muttered, not quite angrily, and shook his head.
"It's the accent, isn't it?"
"Definitely not."
"Sense of adventure?"
"It'd be easier to just go and hitchhike with somebody. Probably better for my health, too."
"Right. Well then, I guess it must be the sex."
The gecko's brow rose a bit at that, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. "It might be the sex."
They both heard the door being pushed open, and then Ian stepped up, holding a pair of skates tied together by their laces. Damien hefted them as he took them, glancing them over. A few small flecks of rust adorned the blades, but otherwise they looked good and sharp.
"I brought you some winter socks, too," the fox offered, holding out a pair of woollen socks. "Don't want you to catch a cold."
"Thanks," the gecko muttered drily. "I can't help but feeling, though, that that would be a lot easier if I didn't have to skate in the first place."
The arctic fox's eyes lowered a bit in guilt, and he looked about ready to say something, when Joshua suddenly stepped up unnecessarily close behind him, leaning over his shoulder.
"Aw, come on, it won't be that bad. Just go and have some fun," the cougar said. Damien was a bit distracted with watching how Ian's tail had instantly begun lashing back and forth with the cougar's close presence, and the way he seemed to be trembling a bit.
"Well, I think we should get going then, eh, ma belle?" Rémi asked, getting up. Shaking his head, Damien nodded, getting up from the table and grabbing his and the coyote's used dishes. Rémi quickly gathered up their cooking equipment, and then the two headed for the door.
"You two have fun," the cougar said, drawing Damien's attention back for a moment to see him veritably groping the quivering fox's rump as he tended to the stir-fry with his other hand.
Damien and Rémi stepped out into the dorm's hall, heading for the elevator. The coyote hit the button, and then they waited there in awkward silence for a few moments.
"So they're not going out?" Damien finally asked.
"Nope."
"Then what the hell are they doing?"
"Aucune idée. I think it's some sort of a fuck-buddy thing."
"None too subtle about it."
"When was Joshua ever subtle?"
"Touché."
The two of them walked quickly across campus, shivering despite their heavy coats. At Rémi's suggestion, Damien had neglected to wear any snowpants. The gecko was cursing that decision, as he stepped through the visible puffs of his own breath. The cool vapour clung to his scales, and he quickly accumulated a thin layer of ice crystals around his mouth.
"Why do we have to do this at night?" the gecko finally muttered as they passed through the campus's deserted parking lot.
"Had to do it right away, otherwise it'd never get done." The coyote looked quite comfortable despite the chill, still walking with the front of his coat open. He smirked, then glanced over to the gecko. "Besides, it's the perfect time to go. There's barely anybody on at night."
"I wonder why?" the gecko muttered, shoving his hands deep into his coat's pockets. His woollen mitts were already getting stiff with the cold. He didn't have any idea how he would ever last for the skate.
The two of them passed under the small overpass for Nicholas, then crossed Colonel By to the canal. All of the lights lining the canal were glowing, sending a soft glow across the snow on the edges of the canal, and the thick, white ice covering it.
The two stood there for a few moments after they reached the rink, watching their breaths crystallize in the air before them and listening to the occasional car driving by behind them. Damien glanced up, hearing something, and watched a single hare, his long ears tucked awkwardly into a toque, approaching at a hard pace. His long legs cut along the ice, the blades of his skates slipping over the surface with barely a hum, never faltering. The coyote and the gecko watched as he glided by, glancing up and giving them a slight nod as he passed, before disappearing down the long and winding canal.
"Well," Rémi finally said, breaking their silence. "I guess we might as well get going, then, eh?"
Damien nodded, and the two of them hurried over to the stairs heading down, right next to the pedestrian bridge. Once down there, the two of them slipped in their boots across the ice until they reached one of the benches lining the canal walls. There, the two of them sat down. Rémi tugged his gloves off with his teeth, keeping them there as he set about to quickly pulling off his boots and slipping his feet into his skates. The gecko went slower, wanting to keep his mitts on in the cold. He struggled with his first boot for a bit before it finally slipped off, and he picked up the corresponding skate.
He looked it up and down, a bit more carefully than before. Ian's skates were well used, and certainly well cared for. The boots were beaten and worn thin in places, and in more than one spot the gecko could spy spots where the fox had stitched up holes or applied patches.
He jumped a bit as Rémi reached over and grabbed the skate from his grip, then hopped off of the bench.
"It'll take forever if you go that slow. Donne-moi ton pied."
Reluctantly, the gecko stuck out his foot. Without hesitation, the coyote grabbed it and slipped it into the skate. Damien bit off a yelp at how cold the boot felt, even through the thick socks. Not paying attention to the exclamation, the coyote quickly laced the skates up tight, making Damien wince more than once as he pulled on the laces.
With efficiency born of practise, the coyote went over to the other foot, and repeated the procedure. By the time he was done with that one, Damien's foot was beginning to go numb from the cold in the skate.
Rémi finally got up, standing easily balanced on the skate blades, and offered a gloved hand to the gecko. "Allez-y, let's go!"
Sighing, Damien took his paw, then pulled himself up to his feet. Rémi reached out and grabbed the gecko's other arm, trying to steady him.
Damien glanced down in surprise at the gloved hand on his arm, before looking up at Rémi. Much to the coyote's surprise, the gecko cocked an eyebrow at him, with a look on his face that clearly said, "Are you joking?"
Then, in a quick, precise movement, the gecko crossed one skate over the other, and brought the trailing one around the back, making a sharp pair of clicks. As he finished his sidestep, he pulled his arms away from Rémi, and pushed off hard with one skate.
At once, a low scrape resonated through the air, cutting across the otherwise silent canal. It was quickly followed by several more clicks and smooth scrapes as the gecko accelerated, and then made a quick turn, pulling a full figure eight and coming to a stop right in front of a gaping Rémi.
The gecko flashed a wide grin at the coyote as he stood there, puffs of vapour expelling from his nose. "What?"
"'What' mon oeil! You know how to skate?"
"Don't think that just because you're from rural Quebec you're naturally better at winter sports," the gecko chided, giving his tail a playful lash. "We play hockey in Toronto, too."
Rémi snorted a bit at that, rolling his eyes. "Right, Toronto." He used the city's French pronunciation, drawing out each 'o'. "I'm surprised you've heard of the national pastime coming from there."
"We do have a team there, you know. It's sort of a big deal."
The coyote rolled his eyes again, dismissively muttering, "The Leafs?"
"Yeah, the Leafs," the gecko replied. "And at least they're better than the Habs."
Rémi eyed the gecko dangerously, and then slowly a predatory grin crossed his face. "D'accord. You're gonna pay for that one."
The gecko smirked back. "Bring it on. Doubt you can even pull a decent crossover."
The coyote lunged forward, trying to grab at the gecko, but Damien had already taken a quickstep back, gliding backwards along the ice. He stuck his tongue out at the canine, and then turned on the spot, cutting down the canal away from Parliament.
Rémi pushed off quickly, pulling a sharp turn to follow the gecko. He hunkered down low, and then began pumping with his legs, the long, rhythmic hum of his blades along the ice quickly merging with the gecko's shorter, choppier strokes just ahead of him. Soon, their ears were full of nothing but the soft roar of the wind in their ears and the scrape of steel over ice.
Damien's chest rose and fell hard, his legs already starting to burn as they carried him along the slick, uneven surface. He stepped over his skates several times in quick succession as they rounded a curve in the long canal. The wind on the bare scales of his face was quickly numbing them, and he had to keep blinking as his eyes dried out in the cold. He could feel small flecks of ice starting to amass at the corner of his eyes as tears froze there, elicited by the rush of sensation across his body.
Even as his legs burned and his face froze, though, he could feel a comfortable warmth starting to spread throughout his body. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw that Rémi was just behind him, pacing him perfectly with his long strides. The gecko let out a quick laugh at the look of mock determination on the coyote's face, then turned his attention back forward.
By this point, they had left the university campus far behind, and were running parallel to Main. The streetlights lining the canal kept the ice illuminated just enough to keep either of them from running over any weak points, but left enough shade that a casual passerby might miss the two furs gliding swiftly down the canal.
Damien was breathing hard, now, and he was almost sweating beneath his heavy coat. He went on for a bit longer like that, simply pumping his legs to keep his momentum up. He passed through the darkness under the 417 bridge, and the smaller bridge connecting Hawthorne and Elgin, his shorter strokes making it easier for him to keep his speed up over the rougher ice. Glancing back, he giggled as he saw Rémi struggling over these sections, his long strides making his blades hit soft spots over and over again.
Reaching up, Damien grabbed the zipper of his coat, and tugged it quickly down. He gasped as a rush of cool air flooded over his hot torso, now only covered by his thin T-shirt. For a moment, he was too shocked by the chill to breathe. The next, though, the gust of cool wind had dropped his body's temperature to a comfortable level, and he pushed off all the harder.
Soon, the dark expanse of Landsdowne Park had gone by on their right. Damien kept up his hard pace, and Rémi did his best to keep up with that blue-speckled green tail in front of him. In his mind, the coyote couldn't decide whether it was because of the adrenaline of the chase, or the enjoyment of watching as the thick-muscled appendage swayed back and forth hypnotically before him.
Damien was breathing hard as they closed with the tall arching tunnel beneath the Bank bridge. He could feel the coyote just behind him, growing closer with every stride. The gecko kicked his feet out harder, trying to stretch a few metres of distance between them. The only reason that the coyote hadn't caught him yet, Damien knew, was that Rémi's long strides caused him to catch all of the rough patches in the ice, while Damien could simply dance around them with his quick strokes. If they had been on level ice for all this time, he would have lost this chase long ago.
The two came out the far side of the bridge, leaving the bright lights leading the way behind. Quite abruptly, the walls of the canal narrowed on either side of them and grew higher, making them feel much more claustrophobic at their heavy speed. They rounded a couple of small bends, and then went beneath the dark, low-hanging bridge that was Bronson Ave, and then, quite suddenly, the canal wall seemed to disappear into darkness off on the right, and open ice stretched out to fill the void it left.
Damien stared at it for a good few moments, barely remembering to keep pumping his legs. He knew what it was; it was the large, manmade lake that lay quite near to the end of the canal. He and Rémi had walked around it last summer. Then, though, it hadn't seemed so imposing. It hadn't represented a kilometre-long stretch of dark ice, and just about a third as wide, spanning out beneath his feet. He could dimly see the lights on the far side of the lake, illuminating the restaurant that sat by the canal.
Suddenly, the gecko yelped, jumping a bit as a gloved paw slapped down on the base of his tail. He kicked off hard again, tearing away from the coyote and heading out onto the open ice, Rémi laughing as he followed.
"Come on, you can't slow down yet! We're just getting started!"
Damien finally pulled out fully onto the small lake, and quite abruptly, the soft bumping and vibrating running through his skates died down. He glanced down in surprise, and then cursed under his breath. It seemed that out on the lake, the ice, whether naturally or by better care, was smoother.
Knowing that he was at the disadvantage now, the gecko pumped his legs as hard as he could, racing over the open ice. He could hear Rémi's strides behind him, much more even and undisturbed now. With every stride, Damien knew that the distance between them was shrinking, and the coyote was pulling closer to catching him.
The pair of them were going fast enough now that the wind in Damien's ears was roaring. His tail was lashing rapidly with his movements, trailing out behind him to try and make him as aerodynamic as possible.
He jumped a bit as he felt something brush across the tip of his tail behind him, and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw just how close Rémi was; he couldn't have been more than two steps behind. It was one of his swinging hands that had made contact with his tail, more by accident than anything else.
Knowing that if he didn't do something quickly, he would be caught, Damien took a deep breath, and then, on his next stride, crossed his left skate over his right. Working his feet quickly, he pulled several rapid crossovers, cutting a sharp turn. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Rémi stumble by behind him in surprise. The gecko felt a momentary rush at his momentary victory, but it disappeared quickly as the coyote imitated his manoeuvre to turn and follow him.
Growling a bit, the gecko looked around for inspiration. His eyes fell suddenly on the canal wall directly in front of him, and the small bank of snow that was piled against it. The two of them were quickly closing on it, their blades slicing a path to the edge of the rink.
The gecko smirked a bit, then put on one last burst of speed, heading straight for the wall. Behind him, he knew that Rémi was probably confused and wondering what he was up to; he would figure out soon enough. The gecko had lowered his head, panting a bit as he closed with the wall. It couldn't have been more than twenty metres away... fifteen metres... ten... five...
Suddenly, the gecko leaned hard to the left, crossing his skates over each other and making the blades go almost parallel to the ice. He felt his momentum swinging with him, as his frontward velocity dropped rapidly. He was still approaching that snowy edge, though, his blades drawing closer and closer. It would be close... he wasn't sure if he'd ever made this sharp of a turn while going this fast before... it would be close...
Abruptly, he felt his momentum swing all the way around, and then the gecko was pulling away from the snow bank. He gasped, realising that he hadn't been breathing, and then sucked in deep gulps of air, looking over his shoulder to see how Rémi had fared.
The coyote was about halfway into the turn, his own slower, larger steps turning him in much the same way that Damien's shorter ones had done so. There was a look of intense concentration on his face as he worked his feet, keeping them so that one was always in the air. He drew gradually closer to the edge, his entire body working itself to avoid the fall...
Suddenly, one of his skates clipped against the snow as it touched down, and that leg flew out behind him. The coyote stumbled a bit, trying to regain his balance on his one leg. Then, he ploughed straight into the snow bank, his momentum throwing into a full summersault until he landed on his back, sliding a small distance further before coming to a rest with his limbs splayed out about him.
Damien braked hard, sending up a small spray of ice as he panted. His chest was heaving as he finally came to a stop, standing on the edge of the ice. He put his hands to his knees as he bent partially forward, gasping and laughing as he looked at the coyote in the snow. His legs were aching from overexertion, and his tail was limp behind him, but he couldn't stop himself.
As Damien's tears of mirth started freezing on his scales, Rémi was sitting up in the snow bank, muttering a bit in French as he shook snow from his coat. He glared up at the gecko, grinning a bit when he saw how much he was enjoying himself. Forcing himself to put his annoyed look back on, he said, "Well, are you just going to stand there, or will you help an injured coyote up?"
"Aw," Damien laughed as he glided over to the fallen coyote. "A tough rural Quebecois hockey player like you can't have hurt himself after a fall like that."
"Just help me up," the coyote replied, rolling his eyes.
"Fine, poor little puppy." Still laughing, the gecko offered a hand. Rémi reached out, grumbling a bit, and took the hand. He began sitting up, then, abruptly, leaned back, tugging hard on the gecko's arm.
Damien let out a yelp, his skates going out from beneath him as he slipped forward. Even as he was about to land on top of Rémi, the coyote rolled, grabbing him out of the air as he went forward. The two of them rolled over once, and then the coyote stopped their momentum abruptly, and pushed the gecko's into the snow as he leaned overtop of him, grinning down.
"C'est qui, le poor little puppy?" the coyote asked, leaning down so that his whole weight was holding the gecko in place.
"Not fair," Damien wheezed, though there was still a smile on his face as he squirmed.
"All is fair in love and skating."
Damien snorted, shaking his head a bit. "Right. You know, you-"
He cut off, his eyes going wide, as Rémi suddenly dipped his head down, pressing their lips together. Damien was tense for a moment, surprised by the contact. The next, though, his body was going limp, and he was returning the kiss, rubbing the smooth scales of his muzzle against the coyote's fur. Ice crystals encrusted on Rémi's face melted against his warmth, and dribbled down his face in small, cool rivulets.
At length, the two of them parted their kiss, and simply nuzzled each other. Damien closed his eyes, nodding rhythmically and breathing in the coyote's scent. All the world slipped away as he lay there, between the cool snow and the warm canine, and all he knew was Rémi's panting breath against his ear.
"So," the coyote finally murmured, breaking the otherwise perfect silence, "you still think this is like skating anywhere else?"
Damien gasped out a laugh at that, shaking his head and rubbing his cheek against Rémi's again. "It has its perks."
The coyote smirked down at him, then pulled himself up to his feet. He helped Damien up, and then helped the gecko to brush all of the snow off of his back. The two of them stepped back out onto the ice, and simply skated aimlessly for a short while, listening to the echoes that their blades made against the surface.
"So," Damien muttered after a while, drawing the coyote's attention, "you up for round two?"
The coyote blinked, surprised, before a smile flashed across his face. "Back to campus?"
"Winner gets to be on top tonight."
With that sentence, the gecko turned, and with a quick click-click, he was off, speeding back down the canal. The coyote stared after him for a moment, caught off-guard by the stakes. Then, he eyed that rump, the tale flexing back and forth above it, and his grin turned predatory.
"Ta cul, c'est la mienne, Damien!"
He pushed off, and with a whoop of laughter, he took off down the ice.