A perfect triple-lutz. The take-off was graceful, the angle just right, and the landing -- poetry in motion.

Josh spun around on the ice, his arms out, his heart racing, his feet knowing all the right moves. He made his way across the ice the way a swan might glide across water. The music deepened, and he prepared for his next jump. He caught a pair of brown eyes waiting for him in the stands before executing a triple axel, his most difficult jump.

That was his safety, his confidence. He always looked to his lover before that jump -- it was ritual, it was necessary.

The night before, he had been a big ball of jitters. He wouldn't sit still. Finally his lover pushed him down on the couch and thrust a teacup into his hands.

"What is this, Joe?"

"Chamomile tea," Joey said and removed Josh's shoes.

Josh laughed as Joey inadvertently tickled his feet. "Am I that bad?"

"Yes, you really need to calm down." Joey smiled and massaged his ankles.

Josh sighed, thankful for the warm tingles being sent up from his overworked ankles. "I know, but it's the freaking olympics, and I'm one perfect program away from a gold medal."

Joey worked his hands up Josh's calves. "You can do it babe, I know you will."

Josh sighed again. If only he had found Joey earlier in life. He had almost quit skating years ago. Being somewhat androgynous on top of taking ceramics classes made him the "little fag boy" that everyone picked on. If Joey had been there, he would have offered to kick those junior high bullies back to kindergarten.

Being an ice skater made it worse. Especially when he found out he really was a "little fag boy." He closed his eyes and felt as Joey's hands worked their way up to the button of his pants.

Joey unzipped Josh's pants and pulled them down over his knees, then stopped. "Drink the tea first," he said, as Josh's eyes opened.

He gulped the tea and plunked the cup on the end table, making it clink loudly.

"Don't break that," Joey warned as he rubbed the bulge in Josh's boxers.

Josh grinned apologetically, "Sorry, I'm just---uhhhhhhh." His sentence ended as he felt warm wetness at the tip of his suddenly exposed penis.

Josh drifted across the ice like a phantom on a cold night before falling to his knees and the music faded. The crowd roared. He was stunned and didn't look up, but he knew they were all on their feet.

He finally pulled one leg up and lifted himself off the ice. He spun around searching, and in finding those eyes again, bowed.

He skated around on the ice, obigatorily waving to the crowd, about ready to burst if he didn't find the embrace of the arms that belonged with the eyes.

He stepped off the ice and was hugged lifted to the bench where he was to wait for the results.

"Joey--" he started.

"I know. I've never seen you skate so well," Joey said. He hugged Josh again and kissed him deeply.

A minute or so later, Josh felt the hand of his coach on his shoulder, and broke the kiss. "You've done it."

Both Josh and Joey looked up at the scoreboard and finally registered the wild cheering around them.

Josh bit his lip, stood up, and waved triumphantly to the crowd. His other hand he kept firmly in Joey's, knowing that the real victory had been won long ago.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 11/27/00, with the words phantom, teacup, poetry-in-motion, take-off, ceramics, androgynous.