Kurt pulled his coat closer to his body as he walked through the Olympic city, his bag slung over his shoulder. Everyone kept saying that it was weird how the Winter Olympics were held in Sochi because it wasn't cold enough, but Kurt didn't agree. He found the city cold in a different way than Ohio. It was hard to explain, but he felt as if the cold was creeping into his heart. Maybe it was everything that had been going on with the Russian LGBTQ community lately and Kurt's imagination was making things up… Either way, he shivered as he moved quickly across the asphalt towards the arena where he was going to compete in the short program, which was also his qualification for the finals.

Kurt couldn't remember the time before figure skating. He had been skating ever since he was three years old. His dad had thought he'd become an ice hockey player, but his mother had always said he'd make a great figure skater because of his early interest in dance. When Elizabeth Hummel died, Kurt was only seven years old and right then, he became determined that his future career was going to be as a professional figure skater. And that was why he was walking down this path right now, on his way to his first Olympics. He was only 17 years old and one of the youngest skaters in the competition, but Kurt didn't consider that a disadvantage. He was in amazing shape, his routine was fantastic and most importantly, his father was here to cheer him on and all of his friends were going to be watching from home. He'd heard that the Glee club had arranged a viewing party and Kurt honestly couldn't feel more ready. He smiled to himself as he kept walking, pulling the shoulder bag higher up. He felt on top of the world. Nothing could get to him today.

“Excuse me, you dropped this!” said a voice from behind. Kurt quickly turned around and was faced with a curly haired man, also dressed in the American colors. His eyes were big and bright, the smile on his lips genuine and his hair wild and unruly. He was holding out Kurt's pin that was usually stuck to his bag. It had the Glee club sign on it and he always brought it everywhere.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Kurt said and took the pin from him, taking the bag off his shoulder so he could attach the pin again. “That means a lot to me. I would have cried if I'd lost it,” he said and stood up again, smiling.

“Yeah, I figured if you carry something around here, it would have to be important,” the man smiled and held out his hand. “Blaine Anderson, I'm on the cross country skiing team.”

Kurt took his hand and shook it with a polite smile. “Kurt Hummel, figure skater. I'm actually just about to compete in a few hours, so I have to get going to warm-ups,” he said with an apologetic smile. He would love to talk more to this handsome man, but he really didn't have time. He knew his coach was waiting for him.

“Well, I'll be cheering,” Blaine grinned. “I have nothing to do today so I thought I'd check out some other sports. Plus I know you guys wear really tight fitting clothes and that's always nice to watch,” he winked.

Kurt chuckled and blushed, a little bit embarrassed, but at the same time happy to find someone else who was openly gay. “Well, it's definitely a great perk of figure skating. All the tight fitting costumes,” he said and bit his lip. “It was nice meeting you, Blaine the skier.”

Blaine nodded and smiled softly. “Good luck. I just know you'll do well,” he said and then turned around to walk towards the entry for the audience while Kurt headed through the back door for coaches and Olympians only. His mind was occupied with thoughts about the charming man he'd just met, but when he entered the arena, he was forced to push it all out of his mind. Skating. That was the only thing he could afford thinking of right now. The rest would have to come later. The first thing he saw when he entered the building were the Olympic rings. He had to stop for a moment to look at the symbol and smile to himself. This was really it. He had to make it count.

---

Blaine walked into the arena, already feeling hopeful and happy to finally be able to relax for a little while. Being an American cross country skier wasn't easy. Their team simply wasn't very good. Blaine was easily the best skier, but none of them were favorites for a medal in any of the races. They had already finished some of the races the other day and Blaine felt in shape, but it just hadn't been his days so far. He was hoping for the 5k sprint the following day. He wanted to win that medal. Not for the States necessarily, but for himself and to show all of the people at home that he was so much more than they thought he was. For now though, it was nice to clear his mind with some things that didn't have anything to do with skiing. Plus, figure skaters really were hot. Long, lean bodies and that flexibility… Yeah, it was definitely a turn on for Blaine. That guy he'd met outside was damn sexy and he couldn't wait to see him in a tight costume.

He got inside the arena easily. That was one perk of not being too famous, he had almost no fans which meant no distractions. He sat down in a section that looked like a U.S. fan club. He fit right in with his blue, white and red jacket and hat. It was nice to just sit back and relax. He was craving a beer as he watched the first group of skaters warm up, but he had to be okay with just his water bottle since his competitions weren't done yet and he needed to be on top of his game if he wanted to get that medal he was craving. He sipped on his bottle as the first skater took his position and the competition started. He tried to understand the scoring system, but it was all so confusing to him. He simply tried to memorize some of the scores to compare to others. He didn't know why he got so into it, but he was really enjoying it. Not just the nice bodies, but also the actual skating and creativity behind it. Skiing wasn't really a creative sport since it was all technique and cardio. Figure skating was obviously about those factors as well, but Blaine found that he enjoyed the creative part the most. Maybe it was because he also had a burning passion for dance, even though he had been putting that aside for now. He found himself getting into the sport very deeply throughout the next hour. He winced when the skaters fell and cheered when someone did a good program, he had always been taught fair play so cheering for everyone was in his nature.

It took an hour and a half of unknown (to Blaine at least) skaters until the familiar name was called out in the speakers.

“Kurt Hummel, competing for the United States of America,” the voice said in English and then in Russian. The American fans cheered loudly and waved with their flags as Kurt took some last minute advice from his coach and then skated to the middle of the ice. His costume was white and it covered his entire body, fitting snugly and hugging his shape in all the right places. It obviously also had sparkles on it, since that seemed to be almost like a must in this sport. His hair was styled in a perfect coif on his head, probably held up by at least one bottle of hairspray. He looked absolutely stunning where he was standing in a pose with his head bowed and arm straight up, completely ready for his program to start.

The arena slowly turned silent as they all waited… The music started and Blaine immediately recognized it as On My Own from Les Misérables. It was an instrumental version with only piano, but it was still hauntingly beautiful. In the beginning, Kurt was only moving to the music and the arena seemed mesmerized by the way Kurt didn't just skate, but performed his program instead. Blaine didn't know a lot about the different kinds of jumps, but he did know that Kurt didn't fall a single time. Well, that was until the very end. He had already completed the more difficult jumps and pirouettes at the beginning and he had a very basic one left. Blaine couldn't tell why, but when the boy was landing from the jump, he fell. It seemed like all of the smiles from the American supporters' faces seemed to fall at the exact same time. Kurt was obviously also affected by the fall, but he still finished the final choreographed part strongly. They all cheered when the music ended and Kurt bowed politely, but everyone could tell that he wasn't happy with what he had done. The camera zoomed in on him as everyone watched the score appearing on the screen. From what Blaine could tell, it was an okay score. He just hoped it would be enough to take the young, gorgeous skater to the finals because Blaine just knew he deserved it.

At the end of the day, Kurt ended up being the last person to qualify for the finals, but everyone knew he would have been in the top 5 if he hadn't fallen. The first thing Blaine cared about when he found out the result of the competition was checking to make sure that he could be there to watch the finals. Luckily for him, it just happened to be on one of his off days. Well, unless he would actually win a medal because then he would have the medal ceremony. But he knew that wasn't going to happen, so he happily walked out of the arena, content knowing that he'd see Kurt skate soon again.

---

Kurt had no idea what to feel. He was relieved and happy to have qualified for the finals, but that fall. Damn, that fall was so fucking stupid. He had been doing that extremely simple jump since he was eight years old and he hadn't fallen doing it since he was thirteen. And now he just had to fall, in the Olympic Games. Wonderful. Well, he could at least be happy to have qualified. That was what really mattered, after all. The competition finished and Kurt got pulled in a hundred directions to be interviewed by different journalists. After finishing five interviews, he was allowed backstage and sitting there on a bench, he found the man he'd been looking for.

“Dad!” Kurt squealed and ran up to him, almost crushing him in a hug as he started crying. “Dad, I messed up,” he cried into the man's shoulder.

“No,” Burt Hummel said and held Kurt close to his own body. “No, you didn't mess up. You did amazing. One mistake doesn't define you,” he said and pulled back to take his son's face in his hands. “Kurt, I have never been more proud to be your father and I just know mom would have been so proud too. I love you. We love you. You were incredible, absolutely incredible,” he said, tears evident in his eyes as well.

Kurt sobbed and fell into his father's arms again, this time crying because he felt so lucky. Right now, he didn't have to worry about anything other than crying his eyes out and then going to sleep. That's what mattered. For now.

---

The following day, Blaine woke up at six AM to get ready for his race and five hours later, he was standing on the Olympic podium accepting his flowers in front of the crowd at the cross country skiing area. He was speechless. The Swede, Marcus Hellner, had taken the lead immediately and kept it throughout the entire race, finishing as a clear winner. A Norwegian guy had been in a clear second place, but the race for third had been dramatic. Blaine had been far behind in the beginning, but somehow he'd managed to find some kind of inner strength and motivation to ski past ten competitors. In the end, it had been himself versus a guy from Russia in a race to the finish line. In the end, Blaine had been 0.9 seconds ahead and secured the bronze medal. The first one in ten years for the U.S. cross country skiing team. Blaine had made history on this day and he actually couldn't believe it.

“Blaine Anderson, come over here, you superhero!” the female journalist called out as he was headed towards her, a big grin plastered on his face as he hugged her and lifted her up off the ground, chuckling when she squealed. He put her down and pulled back, the smile still just as evident.

“Hi!” he said excitedly, almost jumping up and down from the excitement of it all.

“So, there is no doubt that you feel amazing right now, we can very much tell,” she laughed as the cameraman filmed Blaine, who was completely radiating joy. “But can you describe the feeling when you saw your name on the screens above the Russian?”

“No,” Blaine said immediately, shaking his head. “That feeling is something I think I'll never forget. An unforgettable moment, really. I never thought it would happen and nobody else did either, but here I am,” he said with another huge smile.

“Here you are indeed,” the journalist smiled. “So how will you be celebrating tonight as a writer of history?”

“Oh,” Blaine chuckled. “Well, I have no family or close friends here, so I think most of the celebrations will happen later, when I get back home. I was actually hoping to go see the figure skating finals tomorrow, but I won't say no to some bronze around my neck,” he said and winked charmingly into the camera. He was pretty upset to be missing the finals of the figure skating since he had been hoping to see that beautiful boy he'd met the day before at least one more time so he could get his number…

“Oh, really? Do you have a big interest for figure skating?” she asked him and tilted the microphone towards him once again.

“Well, no, not really. But there are a lot of cute boys in that sport,” he said and winked again into the camera. He knew acting on his homosexuality was something he shouldn't be doing on camera, but honestly? He didn't give a fuck. He was already out and open about his sexuality and nothing could bring him down today.

After a few more questions, he was free and escorted over to a tent where his coach had already poured him and the team champagne. They all cheered and laughed together, Blaine being the center of attention for everyone. And in that moment he knew that he'd proven everybody wrong. Every single person who had ever doubted him, including his parents, would see the news and in that moment, Blaine would truly win.

---

When the final score of the last skater appeared on the screen, Kurt could barely believe it. He'd won. He was an Olympic champion at the age of 17. It was everything he had ever wanted in life and it was all happening so quickly. His program had been perfect and his biggest competitors had all messed up on some minor thing, still causing them to lose some points. But Kurt had been absolutely perfect. After a bunch of interviews, hugs, phonecalls, flowers, gifts and several glasses of non-alcoholic champagne, Kurt was back at the hotel where he was staying. He grinned as he flopped down on the bed, finally allowing himself the alone time he'd been craving for days now. Everything had been so intense and crazy lately and he could barely believe it. He was a gold medalist and he just knew that things would be different from this day forward. He'd get the appreciation he'd always wanted and his friends would be so proud of him when he got back. He'd probably still be teased for “dancing around on ice in faggy costumes” by his bullies, but he had something that they didn't have. A proof of his success.

Maybe, if Kurt was lucky, he'd even get some cute boys after him… Well, he'd met some in Sochi, but none of the figure skaters were boyfriend material for him. They were good people, but they weren't really his type. Now that cross country skier he'd met the day before… That was a hottie. Blaine Anderson was his name. Kurt had been told that the skier had also won a medal, which was really cool since he knew for a fact that Americans usually sucked at that sport. Kurt brought out his iPhone and ignored his 57 unread text messages along with over 6000 mentions on twitter to google Blaine's name. Yep, there he was. Handsome as ever on the picture of him on the podium, accepting the bronze medal that he'd definitely earned. Kurt sighed and locked his phone again, staring up at the ceiling. It sucked that Blaine was so old. Or well, old probably wasn't the right word. It sucked that Blaine was 21 when Kurt was only 17. Oh whatever, Kurt thought as he stood up, he didn't even know Blaine at all. It really wasn't worth it thinking about hot boys right now. What he needed was sleep. Time to get ready for bed.

---

It wasn't until Kurt's head hit the pillow that he noticed it. The pillow had no case. It was strange really since the hotel had four stars and was absolutely flawless otherwise. Kurt sighed and gathered all of his energy to stand up again. He really wanted a case for his pillow and even though there probably were easier solutions, he decided to go downstairs with it. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and then headed out into the hallway. The receptionist immediately went to fetch him a pillowcase, then apologized about a hundred times before Kurt headed towards the elevator again. The doors were just about to close when-

“Sorry,” a voice said and a familiar person stepped inside. Blaine Anderson. Obviously this just had to happen when Kurt was in his pajamas and his hair looked awful.

“Hi,” Kurt still managed to say and bit his lip when the door closed behind the other man, who was currently sporting his bronze medal around his neck.

“Oh, Kurt Hummel!” Blaine said and grinned at him as he leaned back against the wall in the elevator. “I suppose we're both medalists now. Congratulations,” he smiled, looking so genuinely happy that Kurt just had to smile back.

“We are,” he said softly and couldn't help but to look at the gorgeous man. His curly hair was wilder than usual, probably because he'd been out celebrating, and all Kurt wanted to do was run his fingers through it and… dammit, he couldn't think like this. Blaine was four years older than him, it was creepy of him to think like that.

“Who knew we've lived on the same floor all this time?” Blaine chuckled when the elevator stopped and both of them got out.

“Well, now we know,” Kurt said and bit his lip as he looked down and walked down the hallway.

“This is me,” the skier said as he stopped at room number 504 and turned to Kurt, giving him a small smile that made the younger boy melt.

“I hope I'll see you tomorrow then, Blaine the bronze medalist,” Kurt said with a flirtatious smirk, not even realizing what he was doing to Blaine.

“I hope so too, Kurt the gold medalist,” Blaine replied, but didn't turn to walk into his room. Their eyes seemed to be locked with each other's. Hazel staring into an ocean of blue and the ocean staring back into hazel. Without knowing who moved first, they were as close as they could be and their lips were touching. The kiss only lasted about two seconds, but it was enough to fill both Kurt and Blaine's stomachs with butterflies. They pulled back and Kurt ducked his head, blushing heavily.

Blaine had kissed many, many guys before, but damn… There was something very different about this boy that he couldn't quite put his finger on. After a moment of basking in the incredible feeling of close-ness, Blaine had to realize what he had done. He had kissed a minor, which was actually considered a crime and shit, this wasn't good at all.

“Kurt, I am so sorry,” he said quickly. “Please don't report me, I didn't mean to-“

“Blaine, it's fine,” Kurt chuckled, amused by Blaine's freak out. “I'm not going to report you. Last time I checked, I was in on it just as much as you were. And as a matter of fact, I'm turning eighteen in two weeks.” He reached out his hand in between them. “Here, give me your phone.”

Blaine put his phone in Kurt's hand, still a little hesitant, then waited for the boy to type in his number and give it back to him. “I'll text you when we get back home,” Blaine said with a small smile.

“You better, I'll be waiting,” Kurt said with a small wink before walking away, giggling for himself. No matter what happened afterwards, this would always be the best day of his life. The day when he won his first Olympic gold and the day he got his first kiss.

It only took a minute before his phone vibrated with a new text.

Sweet dreams, Kurt the figure skater.