Icing Those Hurts (NOT MY STORY. READ DISC)

Part 1

before you start please read this-

this story is NOT split up into separate chapters in the original book. i am aware you cant copy/paste on wattpad to avoid plagiarism, but heres the link to the original-

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36857332

i chose to separate this story into different chapters due to the fact that it would be an easier read that way.

thank you for understanding.

(also the author is VERY adamant on the fact that Tommy's coach is NOT dream.)

-

At first there were too many branches so he cut them and then it was winter. He meaning you. Yes.

...

As soon as they're off the bus, Wilbur is throwing his arms out and breathing in the fresh, clean, crisp air.

"Smell that, Techno?" He asks. Techno, who has not a care in the world for anything Wilbur enjoys, just hums and walks over to the side hatch to get his luggage out the pit. "That's the smell of the mountains. Of pure winter and ice. That's the smell of victory."

"Someone remind Soot that he is an ice hockey player, not a poet," Schlatt grumbles, pushing past him off the bus and pulling his ear buds out of his ears.

"I can't be both?"

"You can't." Quackity grins. Then he throws a blanket at Wilbur's face. "Take that. I'm ready for the Alaskan winter."

Wilbur folds the blanket over his arm and gets the pleasure of watching Quackity stand in the snow for three whole seconds before he's full body shivering. He's shaking like he's about to shoot off to the moon.

"Okay, I've made a mistake," he says, teeth chattering. "Give me back the blanket."

"No," Wilbur grins, holding it tighter. "I like it. You threw it at me. It's mine now."

"Wilbur -"

"Quackity-"

"Hey." Techno says, slamming his luggage down on the snow, catching their attention. "Come get your stuff."

"Yeah," Schlatt says, breezing by, pack on his back, "last one checked in gets the worst room."

Quackity gasps, jumps up, snatches the blanket from Wilbur's hands, and nearly throws himself into the pit to get his case. "I'm not rooming with Schlatt ever again. He snores like a fucking dragon."

"It's called being a man, Quackity, fuck you!"

"A man who needs a lung transplant!"

"Is someone gonna wake George and Sapnap?" Phil calls out, hobbling off the bus and stretching his limbs. Wilbur cheekily offers a hand as he gets down and Phil smacks him away. "I'll make you skate laps, Wilbur, don't test me. Just because you're an Olympian doesn't mean I can't still call your mother."

"Don't call my mom, coach," Wilbur pouts. "Look, I'll go wake Sapnap. George though...I mean, he might literally kill me if I wake him."

"Good," Techno murmurs.

"I heard that."

Thankfully, Sapnap wakes easily- and loudly, which takes care of George waking up too. Wilbur is still scared of the man. Even with his hoodie up and at least three blankets around his shoulders, he looks like he's ready to take Wilbur down.

"Wilbur." George goes.

"George," Wilbur laughs nervously. "Morning, we're at the village. Schlatt is threatening to take the good rooms. I figured that you didn't want that to happen."

Sapnap sits up abruptly. "Wait, we're here? Like here?" He muscles his way past Wilbur and goes down the aisle. "Come on George, I want to see the other athletes, let's go, let's go!"

George glares at Wilbur, and Wilbur smiles sheepishly. Then he's getting up, collecting his stuff and following Sapnap out without hip checking Wilbur, so Wilbur considers that a huge win. When Wilbur hops back off the bus, Quackity is already glued under Sapnap's arm, leeching his warmth, and Schlatt, for all his big talk, is standing by the door waiting for Phil to lead them all inside.

"Dude, Q, check it- those guys curl." Sapnap says when they get inside out of the cold. Wilbur pulls his beanie off his head and shakes snowflakes out of his hair. "Curling is, like, the world's most confusing sport."

"No, that's Chess." Quackity argues.

"For you, maybe." Techno points out. Quackity makes a face at him. Wilbur snorts.

Then, from behind him, there's the sound of a throat being cleared. Wilbur turns, as does the rest of his team, to see a man standing there, in a long slate gray coat. He's got an earpiece in and a bag on his back, and he looks utterly unimpressed by the sight of six hockey players all taller and bigger than him.

"Excuse us," he sneers, his eyes passing over the lot of them like they're nothing. Wilbur steps back immediately, and that is when he notices the kid standing behind the man. He has a matching coat, neat shoes and his polished figure skates are tied to his bag like trophies. When the two of them walk by, the outside air seems to follow, cold and unforgiving, making Quackity shiver all over again. Even Wilbur, who loves the cold, feels a bit of a chill.

That kid, the way he walked, with his nose high and his piercing blue eyes forward like he didn't even see them- it unnerves Wilbur. Makes him feel off.

"A figure skater," Technoblade notes once they're both out of earshot.

"Ugh," Sapnap groans. Quackity tries to bury himself further into Sapnap's jacket. "Prissy bitches."

"A kid," Wilbur corrects. "And you don't even know him. Besides, people think you're just a big dumb jock when they first see you."

"And they're usually right!" Schlatt jokes, punching Sapnap in the arm. Phil sighs and steps between them before they can go at it.

"Let's go get checked in, alright?" He says. "Get out of the way of the door- just in case."

Wilbur follows when they go, but his mind is back with the young figure skater with the flat blue eyes and the way his gaze never strayed once as he drifted by.