Unexpected ▪ Yuri On Ice

Carson Hamilton

VN

"Hey Nikiforov!"

Chris rams straight into me when I stop mid drill to adress Yakov's gruff yell. The man waves me over and it's as I approach the sideline that I notice someone standing next to him. A guy, tall, probably a similar age to me.

When I reach them both he smiles at me, nodding politely. I've never seen him before so I give him a once over as I discover this new face. The guy is modestly built, his tight navy t shirt helps to show that. He has rusted brown hair in an organised messy style, nicely tanned skin, light green eyes, a thin layer of facial hair and a sharp jaw. All in all he's the type of guy girls would trip over eachother to get, an effortlessly good looking guy. But not my Yuuri.

"This is Carson Hamilton. He's a new student here" he gestures to the him and we shake hands.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Victor Nikiforov. Is this your first day?" Smiling openly, I step back into place and slide my hands into my track pant pockets.

"Yea. It's a nice school you have here. I follow your team too, congratulations on last season." My smile remains because the guy is really nice, which is something you don't get that often. Although, his accent isn't entirely American so that may explain it.

"Ugh, they could have done better. Anyway, Carson is very good at football" Yakov interjects. I roll my eyes because I've had enough of Yakov shitting on the season. Third is perfectly fine. We can't always win.

"Are you here on a sports scollarship?"

"No actually, a mathematics scollarship. It was going to be football though" immediately my eyebrows shoot up because you have to be really good at math to get a scollarship, and it's in no way an easy subject.

"Wow. Well, I'm the Captain"

"Do some drills with him will you" Yakov interrupts again, shewing us off. He's a nice man, he just doesn't know how to display that.

"Where are you from Carson?" I ask as we walk back to the area the drills are happening in. The team is still at it but they're sparing several glances at the new face.

"Well, I was born and lived in England until I was ten then I moved here. You can tell by the accent right?" We both smile as I nod.

"Can I guess... You're Russian?" He tries, squinting a little and visibly hoping his not wrong.

"I am. What was it? My face? My name? My accent?"

Carson laughs and nods; "Yea,  pretty evident"

I could see myself being friends with this guy. He's light, in the way he caries himself; with no superiority but enough confidence. He seems accepting, the most important quality I look for in a person. In my own selfish way, I want to be accepted, I seek acceptance like life support; without it I'm dead. Dead like I was in Russia.

The session proceeds with Carson introducing himself and some practice games and Yakov was right. The guy is good. Good as in a really valuable asset to our team. Also, he and I are a pretty good tag team.

The session goes swimmingly and by the time we're in the changing room Carson has already become a natural addition, everybody likes him and he likes all of us.

"Oh Carson," Chris calls as he pulls on his skinny jeans that are frankly too ripped to even be jeans, "if you're straight stay away from Victor"

"Hey! I'm not that thirsty!" I call back in fake anger, pulling my t-shirt over my shoulders.