Icing Those Hurts.

Chapter 1: icing those hurts

Tommy made it to the Olympics for figure skating- he's the youngest contestant on the ice and he's the favor for the gold. He's supposed to be living the dream. So why is he still so unhappy? And why do all these hockey players and snowboarders care so much about him?

...

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.