Chapter 22

Sasha isn't really expecting any of the coaches to have gone around making sure everyone was in bed—they mostly do that for the juniors—but he still has an excuse prepared, just in case, as he hurries back to his floor. Luckily, he doesn't need it: the hallway is empty, and all the rooms he passes are quiet, even Ilya and Oleg's.

"Kirill?" he whispers as he slips through their door, shutting it behind him. "Are you there?"

The room is dark, and there's no response. Sasha risks turning on the bathroom light so he can see Kirill's bed, but it's still made up from earlier that day, the comforter undisturbed. Although he's relieved—lying to the coaches is one thing, but Kirill might have questioned a story about his mother calling because she couldn't sleep—he can't help checking the time again.

Seeing that it's half past one, he frowns and texts Kirill.

Sasha:Are you still with Marina?

Kirill replies a few minutes later, while Sasha's in the bathroom.

Kirill:Back soon

Kirill:Stop worrying and go to sleep

Sasha shakes his head, but he does feel better knowing Kirill won't be out for much longer. He's about to put his phone down when another message comes in.

Danny:Goodnight

It's ridiculous that a single, simple text can have such an effect on his mood, but Sasha's still grinning when he turns off the lights and gets into bed. Closing his eyes, he lets the night come back to him in flashes, fingers in his hair and Danny saying, You should wear it like this more, I like it… lightning-rod kisses down his stomach, Danny between his legs and looking up at him, smiling… a moment of pure, perfect pleasure and then talking, oh God, the talking, torture and then, finally, relief…

Here, the memories start to shrivel with embarrassment. He can't believe he'd thrust into Danny like that, as if Danny needed a reminder of how inexperienced he was. Danny had been nice about it, even while he was coughing, but Sasha still wants to kick himself. He'd been so worried about coming too quickly, it had never occurred to him that he might do something worse, like accidentally hurting Danny.

At least he'd made up for it afterwards—or he thinks he did, anyway, because Danny had gone from complimentary to incoherent in just a few minutes, swearing and trembling as Sasha did his best to remember the tips he'd read online. (And had possibly practiced on a banana, once, before hating himself and throwing it away.) He's certain there's room for improvement, though… and maybe after the vault final…

He's already imagining it when Kirill returns, the light from the hallway spilling into the room as he ducks in through the door. Sasha quickly rolls onto his side, yanking up the comforter to hide the fact that he's hard again, and listens as Kirill tiptoes to the dresser.

"Fuck," Kirill hisses, tripping over something that sounds like the wastebasket, and Sasha lifts his head.

"Do you want the light?"

There's a startled pause. "No. Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, I was still awake." Sasha squints at Kirill's outline, watching him rifle through one of his drawers. "Are you sure you don't want the light?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll be done in a few minutes." Kirill disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. While he's waiting, Sasha picks up his phone and scrolls through Danny's Instagram account, lingering over the #noshirtsaturday posts (which have a lot more comments than any of his other content).

The bathroom door opens again, and he locks his screen, sliding the phone under the pillow. "So? How was Marina?" he asks as Kirill comes out.

"Excellent." Kirill drops his clothes on a chair and climbs into his bed, turning over to face Sasha. "Five stars. No complaints."

Sasha laughs. "That good?"

"I might see her again after event finals. She's here for a week."

"Wow." Going up three flights of stairs to see Danny was complicated enough—Sasha doesn't know how Kirill has the energy to sneak out of their hotel on two separate nights. "You spent a lot of time with her."

"Well…" Kirill lowers his voice, even though no one else is in the room. "I was only with her for an hour. She had a meeting or something tomorrow, so I left after we were done, and… I met someone else."

Sasha sits bolt upright. "What?!"

"Mmhm." Kirill sounds like he's fighting back laughter. "They were in the same hotel and everything, too."

"You slept with two girls in one night?" Sasha asks incredulously. He's well aware of Kirill's track record—he'd lost his virginity right before London, and since then he's gone through about half a dozen short-term girlfriends—but this is a lot, even for him.

"Well, I didn't sleep with the second one," Kirill admits. "But we did some other things."

"Jesus." Sasha lies back down; he feels tired just listening to all of this. "So who was she?"

"Oh, you know. Another blond."

"Of course." Sasha doesn't bother asking for a picture, since he probably wouldn't be able to tell her apart from Marina. "Which one did you like better?"

Kirill starts cracking up. "I don't know, I liked them both," he says, the sheets rustling as his silhouette turns over; a few seconds later, pillow-muffled giggling fills the room.

Sasha can't help laughing, too. Kirill isn't usually this weird about girls, but considering he just managed to sneak out of the hotel and hook up with two of them right under their coaches' noses, it's no wonder he's giddy.

"What about you?" Kirill asks when he calms down. "Did you do anything tonight?"

Sasha's suddenly very glad that they're having this conversation in the dark. "Nothing that exciting," he says, semi-truthfully; his evening with Danny almost seems tame now in comparison with Kirill's exploits.

"Don't tell the others, okay?" Kirill asks after a moment. "They'll just be annoying about it."

"I won't," Sasha promises.

They say goodnight, and the room goes quiet as they both drift off to their dreams—Sasha's of an American with bright blue eyes and Kirill's, presumably, of blondes.