Fic: How Much Is Too Much? (JR/Apolo, 5/6)

[cupcakegirla]

Master Post

Back to Part 4


Part 5

JR’s never seen a more excited group of people in his life than his family and friends. It’s late when Trials are over, after 11 by the time everything is said and done. Ben is asleep, too young to understand what is going on, but everyone else is practically vibrating with joy. It sort of makes up for the last time he made the team and they found out while he was sitting in a hospital bed, hopped up on pain meds.

This time his parents take him to a local restaurant, and they take over a quiet corner. Many hugs are given, and pictures taken. JR eats his fill of spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. He splits an ice cream sundae with Sarah, who’s so excited she doesn’t even seem to notice how late it is. It’s around 12:30 that the adrenaline rush clashes with the sugar rush and JR ends up passing out in the corner of the booth with his head resting against the wall. Sarah follows quickly, blonde head resting on his shoulder. Yuki notices first, and quietly alerts everyone else.

“My poor, JR. He’s been through so much this week, this whole year. He must be exhausted,” Sue says quietly. She looks sympathetically at JR, where he’s sleeping in the corner, and turning smiles at Apolo. “Let him get some sleep tomorrow, Apolo, before you start getting him ready for the World Cups. He needs a break,” she suggests. Apolo nods.

“I already planned for that. I’m taking him some place warm for a solid week. Some place tropical. Some swimming, some touristy things, maybe some sand dune climbing and stair jumps, the usual. Rest and relaxation balanced with work. Then back here to start back with the team. Jimmy told him to come back when he was ready. I think he will be by then.” Bob nods.

“We know you’ll take good care of him. Have him call us in the morning?” he asks. Apolo nods.

“Might have to be in the afternoon,” Apolo counters. Bob’s laugh lights up his whole face.

“You need help getting him to the car?” he asks standing up and pulling on his coat. Sue follows his lead. Apolo shakes his head.

“I think we’ll be fine. Talk to you tomorrow.” Apolo watches Sue kiss JR’s forehead, before the two of them leave. Apolo turns his smile to his brother and sister-in-law. Ben is curled up against Judy’s side, sucking his thumb, dead to the world around him and Michael is watching Apolo with a strange look in his eyes.

“What?” Apolo asks, the smile sliding off his face. Michael blinks and shakes his head.

“I was just thinking how things would be different if…” he trials off. Apolo averts his eyes. “I know things weren’t ideal, Apolo. They sucked all around for everyone involved. I can’t change how things went down. None of us can. But I am sorry for my mistakes. I should have contacted you first thing when I turned 18. I was being selfish and I was scared. I missed out on having a terrific little brother, and I’ll always regret that. I just hope we won’t lose any more time together,” Michael explains. Apolo looks up at him and nods. He understands exactly what Michael is saying and he agrees.

“I can’t imagine how our lives would be different and I don’t care too. I wasn’t lying about that whole zero regrets thing, Michael. I try not to dwell on the past. But I am happy with my life how it is. And you and your family are part of that life now,” he says. Michael nods, looking relieved, and Judy’s concerned smile glows a few degrees brighter. “Let’s make a deal,” Apolo suggests. “I won’t run out on you guys, and you won’t run out on us. No matter how busy we get, or if we end up in some big family disagreement, let’s learn from the mistakes of the past. No more ignoring we each have a brother.” Michael laughs quietly, holding out a hand. Apolo grips it and they shake on it.

“It’s a deal. Brothers,” he says. Apolo smiles back.

“Brothers,” he agrees. Then Michael turns to Yuki, who has been sitting there quietly observing the entire conversation.

“That goes for you too, Yuki. You were the only Dad I ever knew. And you’re the only grandpa my kids will ever have. Will you let us get to know you too?” he asks. Yuki smiles at them.

“Of course, Michael. But your mother, she will not be happy,” he says. Michael sighs.

“To be frank, my mother has dictated the terms and conditions of my family relationships my entire life. She isn’t even talking to me right now, because I called Apolo. I don’t care what she thinks. This is my life, not hers. She made her choices. Now she has to live with them. I want something different from my life,” he says. Judy grins, gripping his hand in support.

“We want to start new traditions,” Judy says, and all eyes turn to her. “I know that Christmas and Thanksgiving are probably spent in Seattle with your families there,” she turns and smiles at JR before looking back at Apolo and Yuki, “but we were wondering about New Year’s. The baby should be a few weeks old by then. I’m due in Early December. The timing isn’t perfect, but we thought it might be a bit symbolic. Our first family holiday marking the start of a new year.” Apolo shares a look with his father, and an entire conversation seems to take place.

“I like the sound of that,” Apolo says. “I’ll have to talk it over with JR of course.”

“No! No, of course you do!” Judy says. Ben takes that moment to stir at her side, picking his head up and blinking up at them all.

“We still eatin’?” he asks. Michael laughs standing up out of the booth.

“No, we’re all done. But we’re going in just a minute, so don’t go back to sleep. Come on, let’s get your coat.” Ben hops down, out of the booth, taking Michael’s offered hand in his own, and heading for the coat room. Judy turns to Sarah, waking her up as gently as possible. JR wakes in the process, and he rubs at his chin to check for drool, making the other adults laugh in response. He scowls.

“No fun, making fun of the sleepy person,” he says. Even Sarah laughs at him. She hugs him around the waist.

“I’m proud of you, JR,” she says. He hugs her back.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you all got to come out and watch.”

“I’m going to tell everyone at school that my Uncle is going to the Olympics. Everyone will be so jealous!” she says throwing herself out of the booth, and running energetically across the mostly deserted restaurant to her father. Judy laughs.

“I hope you don’t mind the Uncle thing, JR,” Judy says. “She seems to be adopting a new person into the family each week! I don’t think it will be long before she’s calling Bob and Sue her grandparents,” JR laughs, rubbing at his eyes.

“I don’t mind at all. I can’t wait until she meets my brothers and my sister-in-law,” he admits.

“Ah, the Celski boys all together in one place. Be afraid be very afraid,” Apolo quips. Judy laughs.

“I don’t think Michael or I would mind. Neither of us ever had a big family. I think we’d both quite enjoy it,” Judy confesses. She scoots down to the end of the bench, and Apolo jumps up to help her pull herself up into a standing position. “Thanks,” she says, hugging him before he can step away. Apolo hugs her back. “Goodnight, Apolo,” she says.

“Goodnight, Judy,” he replies.

Yuki leaves a few minutes later, hugging them both goodbye, and heading back to the hotel.

JR and Apolo are both quiet on the drive home. JR insists on showering before bed. He’d taken a short one at the Oval, after his final race, but those quickie showers always leave him feeling unclean and sticky in odd places.

He steps out of the shower damp and sleepy and finds Apolo already dressed for bed and under the covers. He’s flipping through messages on his phone, and eyes squinting down at the small screen. And suddenly is strikes JR just how much time Apolo has spent with him in the last few months. He scrubs a towel through his hair and steps up to his dresser to pull out a pair of pajama pants to wear, all while thinking back. Apolo hadn’t had to go out of town for a single meeting, interview, or appearance in nearly two months. Not since the first week in July. JR stares at himself in the mirror sitting on top of the dresser and cocks his head to the side.

“Apolo?” he asks, tossing his towel in the hamper and flicking out the bathroom light.

“Mhmm?” Apolo replies flicking his thumb across the screen of his iphone a few times and frowning.

“How is work going?” JR asks, pulling back the covers on his side of the bed, and climbing under. He slides down low, and turns toward Apolo. But getting that horizontal makes him sleepier, so he pushes himself back up into a reclining position and watches Apolo’s face. Apolo frowns again.

“You know I’m on break until you’re back on the team. Jimmy talked to me about that today by the way. Says he wants me back as soon as you are ready.” He turns away from the phone long enough to shoot a grin at JR, before turning back to what he’d been working on.

“That’s not the work I was talking about,” JR says. He blinks slowly, watching confusion take over, Apolo’s face.

“Huh?” he asks. JR laughs.

“I meant the other work you do. The speaking engagements and 8Zone. Your appearances and interviews and your endorsement deals. The business of being Apolo Ohno. You haven’t been out to LA in over two months.” Apolo shrugs.

“I’ve been taking care of everything from home. It is the 21st Century, JR. Email, conference calls, Skype... I haven’t been needed out in LA, though I probably will need to head out that way in a few weeks. Subway wants to talk Pre-Olympics branding,” Apolo explains.

“Peter must be furious. How did you convince him to let you stay away for so long?” JR asks. Apolo finishes tapping out a message, and switches the phone off, setting it down on the bedside table. He relaxes back into the pillows, sliding down to lay flat, and rolling to face JR. JR mimics his position, and slides closer. Apolo’s arm reaches around JR’s body to tug him over until their bodies are flush together.

“Peter will get over it,” Apolo says quietly. JR yawns, reaching up to cover his mouth. He’s so tired he feels like he could sleep for a week. “Go to sleep, JR. We can talk tomorrow,” he says, pushing at the wet bangs on JR’s forehead.

“Wish things would go back to normal,” JR breathes, and he’s asleep before Apolo can formulate a response.



JR gets out of bed late the next day. It’s almost noon, and he wakes up feeling well-rested and ready to tackle anything. He stretches his back and arms, feeling the soreness of his side and deciding it’s not nearly as bad as the previous morning. The news puts him in an even better mood, and he hops out of bed to go find Apolo.

The older man is in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, and singing along to some Top 40 R&B song on the radio they have set up in there for just that purpose. He smiles when JR appears and hands him a plate.

“Good morning. I’m surprised you didn’t sleep ‘til dinner time,” Apolo says, handing over a bottle of the good stuff, real maple syrup. JR is not about to question the nutritional decision, and snatches the bottle away before Apolo can change his mind.

“Couldn’t sleep anymore right now if I tried,” JR says pouring on the syrup with a bit of maniacal glee. Apolo laughs at him.

“Well you’ll have plenty of time to relax over the next week. Which reminds me, you need to pack. Our flight leaves in,” he checks his watch, “five hours.” JR blinks at him.

“Where are we going?” he asks, digging into his pancakes more enthusiastically. Apolo sips his coffee and rolls his eyes.

“It’s a surprise. Don’t worry you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“I don’t have time for a vacation right now, Apolo. I need to be training.”

“I’m aware. This will be a working vacation. You need to relax and clear your head. Yesterday proved that. But I’ve been through the pre-Olympics build-up three times before. I’m the coach here, remember. I know what you need and when you need it. Will you just trust me?” he asks. JR sighs and nods.

“I just feel like you spend all your time doing stuff for me,” he looks down, suddenly uninterested in his pancakes. “This relationship has gotten entirely one-sided lately, and I’m so sick of it.”

“Come again?” Apolo asks. JR sighs.

“You’ve done nothing but take care of me for months, Apolo,” he frowns. “I’m a grown up. You don’t need to be taking care of me all the time.”

“JR… relationships are fluid. They change and shift as the situation requires. So I’ve been babying you a bit. Taking care of you. I do it because I love you. You did this huge amazing thing and you’ve been in pain. Of course I’ve been taking care of you. But you get stronger every day. Things will even out again. Besides… you’ve babied me when I needed you too.”

“What are you talking about?” JR asks. Apolo rolls his eyes again, and dumps the last of his coffee down the sink. He opens the dishwasher and adds the cup to the top rack.

“Umm… when I had the flu last December. Ring any bells? Who brought me hot soup, and wiped my sweaty forehead? Who let me watch horrible girly romantic comedies at like 3 AM when I couldn’t sleep?” he asks. JR laughs, clearly remembering. “And you were there for me when I needed you this past summer too.”

“Huh?” JR says. Apolo shakes his head.

“JR, hearing from Michael, being confronted by my mother, the choice I was facing, the emotional rollercoaster ride that the last few months have been… You were there through all of that, taking care of me, supporting me, loving me. You even held my hand when I got my blood drawn. You got me through all of it. And I know if it was me who had surgery two months ago that you’d be rubbing my back, and telling me to rest.” JR doesn’t really know what to say in reply so he says nothing. There’s no argument against the truth. He ignores Apolo’s grin of triumph.



The plane leaves late that night, several hours behind schedule, and it is nighttime when they disembark in Hawaii. JR’s previous exhaustion resurfaces and he barely remembers stumbling out of the rental car and into, what he discovers the next morning, is a beach front bungalow. He wakes up with a warm breeze flowing through the open window, and the sound of the waves filtering through the near silence of the bedroom. He blinks awake and rolls over in the bed, groaning and stretching and letting the sun streaking the bed warm his bare back. His eyes slide closed again in the pleasure of the moment. He gets to enjoy the tranquility of the empty bedroom for another five minutes before Apolo knocks on the open door jam and comes in to wake him up.

“Come on! Up and at ‘em!” he says cheerfully. JR flops over to look at him and reaches up to rub sleep crud out of his eyes. “Breakfast!” Apolo announces, “then… hiking.” He smiles at JR and then bounces out of the room with a nauseating amount of energy. And so begins JR’s vacation.

They spend 8 days in Hawaii. Apolo manages to strike a near perfect balance between training, relaxing, and seeing the sights. They hike the trails, stopping to enjoy hidden beaches, and secluded waterfalls. They practice with the turn-belt on the wet beach, feet sliding in wet sand, and ride on rented bikes up the winding highways that crisscross the islands. Apolo makes him run up and down the largest sand dunes he can find, yelling at him to go faster, push harder, and then rewards him with Sushi for lunch and an afternoon of laying on the beach in between bouts of Frisbee and make-out sessions. One night they attend a luau and JR watches Apolo learn to Hula dance, nearly laughs himself sick at the spectacle. Apolo feigns anger, but ends up laughing right along with him.

Two days before they’re set to return home, tan and relaxed, and sore from training, Apolo rents a boat for the day. They spend the entire morning fishing. Apolo tells him it’s to help him center his mind, but JR thinks it’s just an excuse to get out on the water. They give up around lunch time, and spend the afternoon spread out on the rear of the boat, soaking up the sun in preparation for the long winter ahead. JR burns. It gets the bridge of his nose, his shoulders, and upper back, but other places too. There is seemingly no end of the teasing about just where he’s burned when the guys on the team catch a glimpse upon their return to SLC.

JR just grins and ignores them. He knows it would be ten times worse if they knew about Apolo’s burn, and the nice white outline that perfectly matches JR’s right hand, where Apolo’s skin stayed unmarked by the sun. Luckily Apolo’s sweats cover it nicely.

JR knows the whole vacation must have cost a fortune. When he asks Apolo about it the first morning, Apolo refuses to tell him how much he’s spent. He only mutters something about a favor and a friend of a friend, and brushes off any further inquiries about it from JR. So he drops the issue. Sometimes it’s easier to just let Apolo have his way. JR has learned when to pick his battles.

Their return to SLC is timed perfectly. Because JR is still recovering, the coaches, including Apolo, collectively agree he should only participate in World Cups 5 and 6, in January. But JR is once more a part of the national team, and he goes back to training with them full time. It’s great to be back, and everyone seems happy to have him, and Apolo, at the Oval every day.



The first week in November US Speedskating stages their Olympic Media Day. All of the long trackers and short trackers arrive at the Oval on a Wednesday morning for what will end up being an entire day of interviews and photo shoots as reporters and news crews converge on SLC. Several nights before it’s all set to happen, JR gets on the phone with his agent. He doesn’t know what to say about the donation. About Sarah and her connection to Apolo. About his relationship with Apolo. There are so many variables, so much private information that will become public if he goes into any sort of detail. He wants Peter’s opinion on it all. Peter says it’s really up to him. That JR has to decide what he wants to say and what he doesn’t want to say. He warns that mentioning Sarah by name will start people investigating, and that the whole story would thrust him into the national and international spotlight. “The Olympic speed skater who saved the life of a young girl, putting his Olympic dream in danger just months before the games. Will he succeed or will he falter?” Peter warns as a possible angle. JR winces as the words leave his mouth. Peter tells him he can spin it whatever way JR wants him too. That’s his job after all. But that JR has to decide sooner rather than later which way he wants it.

Apolo listens to the conversation on speaker phone from the other end of the couch, watches JR’s face crease in concern at the possibilities. He doesn’t say anything though. He knows how JR’s mind works on issues like this. So he just sinks lower into the corner and watches JR hang up, chew on his thumb nail, and then call his parents. He asks their opinions. They’re both supportive but again tell him it’s all his decision. Apolo listens as JR confirms their flight back to Seattle for Thanksgiving before he ends the call and then dials, to Apolo’s surprise, Yuki. Yuki is encouraging and straightforward about it all.

“Tell them what you want. The rest is none of their business. But the more you tell the more they want know. Tell about you and Apolo and they want to know more. Tell it is Apolo’s niece they want to know more. Tell them it is a girl you had not met before, and they assume it is stranger. It is not a lie, but is not private information. You see?” he asks. JR smiles and says yes. “You will be fine,” Yuki assures him and the conversation ends a few minutes later.

JR tosses his cellphone to the coffee table, and groans. He lets himself go boneless, and he flops over sidewise into the seat of the couch. He tilts his head back where it’s pressed against Apolo’s knee and looks up at him.

“What do you think?” he asks. Apolo puts down his own phone, and suppresses the urge to tangle his hand in JR’s hair.

“I think there are two things to consider. What do you want the focus to be on during the games? You and what you did, or you and what you’re doing? If you talk about it now that will be the focus. I don’t care if people find out about us, or about Michael being my brother. I’ll say no comment either way. But I know you don’t need to be distracted before the games any more than you already are. The other thing you need to consider, what good can you do, if you do come out as a donor?” JR’s forehead creases with thought, and Apolo gives in and rubs his thumb down it. It smoothed out almost immediately, JR’s eyes falling closed.

“It would be good wouldn’t it? For the transplant community…” he pauses then puts on his announcer voice, mimicking Peter’s perfectly, “Olympic Speed Skater JR Celski donates kidney in July, wins Gold in February!” Apolo grins down at him but doesn’t respond. JR blinks his eyes open and laughs. Turning over, he crawls up to flop down against Apolo’s body, the older man’s arms wrapping around him in greeting. “That could do a lot of good, couldn’t it?” he asks. Apolo shrugs.

“You know how it is. You’ve read all the same stuff I have. People aren’t willing to donate because they’re scared. They think all the bad possibilities will happen to them, that it will ruin their lives. But you are an example of the opposite. That could change a lot of minds,” Apolo says. JR nods, snuggling his face into Apolo’s neck. They’re quiet for a while, listening to JR’s ipod shuffling from indie to hip-hop and back again in a way that should have been annoying and was instead familiar and welcome. Apolo tilts his head back into the couch cushions and lets himself doze a little. JR’s voice speaking quietly, but close to his ear, nearly makes him jump.

“What if I used the media, instead of letting them use me?” JR asks. Apolo leans away, looking down at him, waiting for him to continue. JR pulls back to meet his eyes. “What if we teamed up with one of the tissue donation societies? What if we did a PSA to air after the games talking about what I did? That would mean the publicity didn’t start until the competing was over. That way I wouldn’t be distracted by it all. No one would be wondering about how well I was going to do because I’d have already done it. It’d be over by then.” Apolo’s grin is instant.

“I think that is absolutely brilliant. You’d be using the post-Olympics publicity for a great cause. Why don’t we call Michael tomorrow and get his and Judy’s opinion? They might not want Sarah involved at all,” he suggests. JR grins and nods. The he yawns, and buries his face in Apolo’s shoulder.

“We’ll call in the morning,” he says quietly.


Michael loves the idea. He goes home later that night and talks to Judy and Sarah about it. They both love it too. And the next thing JR knows he’s calling up Peter to ask him to set it all up for him. Peter thinks it’s a genius plan. He contacts an organization called Donate Life. He tells them he has an Olympic Athlete who recently donated a kidney, and that he wants to know if they’d be interested in shooting a PSA to air after the upcoming games. They’re ecstatic at the idea and agree to Peter’s terms.

Media day comes and JR is prepared to say nothing. Reporter after reporter asks why he left the team in July or why he isn’t participating in the first two world cup events of the season. JR just tells them he’d taken some time off to deal with a family matter, and that he prefers not to say anymore. Everyone seems to respect that. The rest of the team know how private he is, and they make it through the day without JR’s business being blabbed to anyone not already in the know. It’s a minor miracle.

Peter stays in contact with Donate Life, setting things up. They recognize that he works for one of the premiere sports agencies in the US, so they’re willing to work with him without knowing who JR is. All they know until after they’ve signed the confidentiality agreement, is that JR’s in his 20s, has two Olympic medals already, and is a definite medal contender. They want to shoot the PSA in early January, so Peter has them set it up for a small studio outside of Tulsa. That works out perfectly for JR, since he and Apolo are flying out to spend New Year’s with Yuki and Michael’s family. It adds one more thing to be excited about. As if seeing everyone, and meeting their newborn niece or nephew weren’t enough.

The baby makes its debut into the world two days before it’s projected due date in the second week of December. Michael starts texting around 5am on a Friday morning. JR’s distracted all through practice that day. Apolo keeps checking his phone, and every time he does JR wants to stop what he’s doing to ask if there’s any news. In the middle of relay practice, that’s not exactly a good thing. It’s not until 14 hours after the first text that the baby is born.

Joanne Rachel Hendricks arrives screaming and red faced at 7:24pm (MST). Michael doesn’t call them until closer to 8. But they can practically hear him beaming through the phone, and he texts pictures immediately of a tired but smiling Judy holding the exhausted and still bright red infant in her tiny pink cap. They tell Michael to give Judy and the baby their love, and let him go. He has a lot more people to call and tell the news. It takes JR an hour to realize they’ve given the baby the initials JRH. Apolo just laughs at him and commandeers JR’s cellphone.

“You are not calling them at the hospital at 10pm to tell them they can’t name their daughter what they want to name her!” he declares. JR flops back across their bed.

“Do you think they’re doing it on purpose? Or it’s just coincidence?” he asks. Apolo just laughs again and shakes his head.

“You can’t really be that naïve!” Apolo says, pulling his shirt off and tossing it in the hamper. JR groans again, rolling over and burying his face in a pillow, his body going limp. Apolo just kicks off his gym shorts and underwear tossing them in the hamper too and stepping into the bathroom. He turns on the shower, leaving JR face down in the bed, moping. Setting the water to heat up, he walks back to stand in the doorway to the bedroom. “You going to come scrub my back for me or not?” he asks. JR perks his head up, smiling, and hops out of bed, already pulling at his own clothes. Apolo, as always, knows just how to best distract him.



The months leading up to their leaving for Sochi are much more like they had been before the surgery. JR trains with the team, and occasionally by himself when Apolo feels it is necessary. They spend Christmas in Seattle and New Year’s in Tulsa, meeting baby Joanne. They shoot the PSA, which is simpler than JR had thought it would be. He sits in front of a white backdrop, wearing a Team USA jacket, and talking. Sarah and Michael are both there, and they even shoot a few shots of Sarah sitting snuggled up against him and grinning. JR pretends he doesn’t notice when both Michael and Apolo tear up. Peter’s there of course. He’s taking JR’s request for privacy about the matter very seriously, and has confidentiality papers for everyone there to sign. The director, Pat, sits them all down after they’ve finished.

“What’s going on Mr. Wallace?” Peter asks. Pat takes a deep breath.

“I have an idea,” he says. They all wait patiently. “Ok first off I just wanted you all to know that I have been so touched by this story. As soon as Donate Life contacted me, I knew I was going to do this for no fee. But I took it a step further. I have something to propose. My wife’s sister, Annie, is married to an exec at NBC/Universal. Now I didn’t tell her anything more than the basics, as per the contract,” he nods at Peter who is already frowning at him, “but she told her husband and he loves this story too. He wants to run the PSA during the Closing Ceremonies.” He spreads his hands wide as he says this. JR and Apolo both blink at him, Michael looking shocked. But Peter starts to smile.

“There’s no way that Donate Life can afford the price of a commercial slot during the closing ceremonies,” JR says. Pat grins.

“That’s the thing. He’s going to talk them into donating the time slot. Mitch thinks it’s a great cause, and he wants to help out. But I know you said, JR, that you didn’t want it to become known until after the games were over, so….” he shrugs his shoulders. JR looks at Peter whose smile has blossomed into a grin of glee.

“Sounds like we have a plan,” he says. JR looks at Apolo who has his hands over his face and is trying hard not to laugh. JR shakes his head and leans back in his chair. Sometimes things just fell into place. He was still getting used to that.



Apolo had, of course, rejoined the coaching staff fulltime when JR had returned to the team. But he also picks up where he left off with his other business ventures. He takes a two day trip out to LA, and later a three day trip to New York City. He starts doing press again. He’s had to give up the planned commentating position for the upcoming games, because there is no way he could be unbiased, and it would take up crucial time when he needs to be with the skaters getting them ready for the competition.

Before JR feels he is really ready for it he finds himself leaving for Sochi with some of his best friends in the world. They are scheduled to get to the games a week and a half before the opening ceremonies. Apolo surprises him with a hotel room in the same hotel his family has booked their rooms. JR loves that he can leave the dorms and get away from all the spectacle of the Olympic Village; that he can go visit his parents and brothers whenever he wants and then crash right down the hall. Apolo justifies the price of the room by explaining that the team’s budget had been cut. US Speedskating wasn’t renting a “safe house” this Olympics. He assures JR that he’ll let the other team members use the room if any of the long trackers or short trackers get sick or injured, but if not it’s all theirs. JR likes the room but he’s absolutely thrilled that so much of his family had been able to make the trip this time. Russia was a lot farther away from home than Vancouver had been. This had been a concern. But JR had acquired quite a few new sponsors, and between them and his parents fundraising efforts they’d managed to fund the trip. Bob, Sue, Chris, David, and his wife Brit would be arriving en masse from the US the day before opening ceremonies.

As excited as this all makes JR, he’s more focused on the competition. He’s been to Russia before, he’s even been to Sochi before. He’s not here to be a tourist. He’s been to an Olympics before too, so he’s able to tamper down some of the excitement that being at an OLYMPICS can cause. He still feels it, but it’s secondary. He’s too focused to let himself get all wrapped up in the hoopla of the Games again. Not that Apolo ever lets him forget where they are and why. It’s Apolo that convinces him to go out with the rest of the team exploring the first night in the Village. What follows is a 4 hour walking tour of the entire village, and dorms, complete with Jordan directed filming that puts the 2010 videos to shame. Apolo also convinces him to go to Opening Ceremonies.

“I kind of missed out by not going with everyone in Vancouver. I didn’t go and I wished I had later. This is symbolic of the Olympic experience. It’s a celebration of the whole games and it’s an honor to get to walk. I promise that I won’t let it affect your readiness. I’ll even go with you guys. Coaches are invited.” JR can’t say no to that. Especially not when he thinks about how much he enjoyed the experience of opening ceremonies in Vancouver.



The first week in Sochi is half focused on the coming competition and half focused on everything else. It’s filled with practices, and strategy meetings, time in the gym, dry-land training, and resting up. But the rest of the team’s time is spent on all the other miscellaneous stuff that is part of going to the Olympics. It’s interviews, getting geared up with all the free stuff they give out, learning the village. It’s JR trying to swallow down his fear and get his mind into the right headspace.

Two nights before Opening Ceremonies, JR has a minor crisis of faith in his own abilities. Team USA has a shared ice practice with the Canadians. JR respects them. They’re, mostly, a cool bunch of guys and he knows how hard they work to be as good as they are. But they’re so fast on the ice. The depth of talent in Canada is huge, and they’d, frankly, kicked USA’s asses in Vancouver. Seeing them here, on Olympic ice, practicing at the same time makes JR realize just where he is and why all over again. He doesn’t start to hyperventilate, but it’s a close call. He finishes the laps Jimmy has ordered, and tries to ignore the way the Canadians keep flying past him in those horrible red and black skinsuits as they do their own laps. It’s like even this is a competition to them.

JR skates around the center of the ice, slowing his pace and preparing to leave the ice completely when Hamelin does it. It’s idiotic and disrespectful, and just plain rude. He cuts across the center of the ice, flying around JR in a tight curve, and continuing on his way. He’s not close enough to cause a collision, but it’s a near miss, and JR reacts instinctively. He skids sideways to dodge, his feet sliding out from under him. He lands on his hip, flailing to stop his forward momentum out into the track. When he finally rights himself, and sits up on the cold ice the rink is silent in their shock. The other Canadians on the ice skid to a halt, JR’s teammates freezing behind him. It’s Simon who moves first. He darts across the ice so fast it’s like the start of a race.

“JR!?” he asks. He comes to a quick stop, water and ice spraying up in his wake. “JR!” he says again when JR doesn’t respond. JR looks up at him frowning.

“I’m fine. I’m ok!” he says, one hand pressed to his smarting hip.

“Hamelin you asshole!” Simon yells over his shoulder, reaching down to offer JR a hand. By the time he’s helped JR to his feet the rest of the team has surrounded them. Hamelin skates by again, the only skater who hadn’t stopped when JR fell.

“Don’t be such a downer, Simon. I’m sure he’s just fine! Isn’t he always!?” Hamelin asks, smirking as he skates past. JR grimaces. He grips Simon by the wrist.

“Don’t. It’s what he wants,” he says quietly. Simon nods, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of Hamelin as he skates another lap around them, coming to stop just behind.

“Sorry, Celski. Did I startle you? Didn’t mean too,” he says, and JR tightens his grip on Simon’s wrist.

“Don’t be such a dick, Francois. You know how fucked up that was!” Jordan growls. Francois smirks again.

“It was nothing! I don’t know why you all treat him like some fragile butterfly. You watch him like he might break at any moment. It makes me wonder if the boy wonder has lost his edge,” he taunts. JR grits his teeth but skates a few feet closer to reply.

“Your jealousy is ridiculous, Francine,” he replies, watching the flinch Francois can’t hide at the nickname. “What were you trying to do? Get me to break something? Twist something? Cut my leg open again? You’d love that wouldn’t you?! It would make it oh so much easier for you if I met with an unfortunate accident. Well that didn’t happen. So prepare yourself. It’s going to be just one more Olympics where you go home with NO medals.” He watches the anger spread across Hamelin’s face but doesn’t wait for the reply. The coaches are converging, officials watching carefully from the side of the rink to see if a fight breaks out. JR lets go of Simon’s wrist, and skates to the side of the ice without looking back even once.

Apolo is standing silently waiting when they get there. His face is unreadable even to JR. They slide on their skate guards, stepping off the ice and making their way to grab up their gear. It’s a horrible way to end practice, and there’s a gnawing feeling growing in the pit of JR’s stomach. He avoids Apolo’s gaze, gathering up his water bottle, and jacket, and leaves without a word to anyone.

He’s the first back to their ready room, and he keeps his back to the door as he packs up his stuff. He only turns around when he has to sit down and untie his skates, but he keeps his head down, eyes focused on his blades. He checks them for damage, wipes them off and covers them carefully. The curve will have to be checked out later, the blades re-sharpened and the rocker examined, but they look ok for the moment. He tugs his skinsuit down, and changes quickly, stuffing everything into his bag. He knows people are watching him. He can feel their eyes on his back, hear the quiet conversations going on around him, but they all know him well enough to not say anything. When everyone is ready they leave all at once to catch the bus back to the village. JR keeps his head down, but does feel the tug of a smile on his lips when they hear an angry voice yelling in French out toward the ice. JR doesn’t pull away when Apolo’s hand presses briefly to his shoulder before letting him go.

Apolo doesn’t say anything, even when they’re finally alone together. He watches JR silently as he strips out of his clothes and flops face down on the bed in just his briefs. JR presses his face into the pillow and lets out a strangled yell. It’s a minute or two before the bed dips and he feels Apolo body heat stretching out along his side. One big warm hand presses to his lower back, starts to rub there, and JR turns his head to look at Apolo.

“I let him rile me,” he whispers. Apolo shrugs.

“Nobody’s perfect. He was completely out of line. No one blames you for what you said back to him.” JR sighs, forehead creasing in frustration. He turns his face back into the pillow. Apolo’s hand keeps moving, and JR wiggles against the mattress, his dick starting to get hard. They’re alone in their own private space and Apolo’s too warm and pressed too close. He’s already frustrated. It makes total sense that his dick would get ideas.

“You going to let me see it?” Apolo asks. For a fraction of a second JR thinks he means his erection, but the thought quickly fades. He tilts his head back, chin digging into the pillow.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he replies. Apolo must take that as permission, because he sits up, and hooks his fingers in JR’s underwear, pulling them down far enough to expose the pale bruise already forming on JR’s hip.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Apolo says sarcastically, pressing his fingers to it gently. JR jerks away but doesn’t make a sound, which he considers a win.

“I’ve had worse. Fuck, I had worse at Trials in September. This isn’t anywhere near that bad,” he replies.

“Fucking Hamelin,” Apolo mutters. JR feels the bed shift as Apolo stretches to get something out of the bedside table. Apolo’s hands are back a minute later rubbing in cool gel.

“I was right though,” JR says, turning his head to face the window. He’s got a clear view of the center of the village from here, the various dorms forming a ring around a central communal area. “He’s just jealous,” he continues, but he doesn’t sound sure.

“He’s freaking out,” Apolo explains. “Charles having surgery in December for that broken ankle and consequently not being here,” he stops to shake his head. “He’s not used to being at competitions without his big brother. Now all the expectations are on him. Of course he’s jealous,” Apolo says. JR rolls his eyes.

“He’s nowhere near as good a skater as Charles is,” JR says. Apolo laughs.

“No argument from me on that,” Apolo smirks as he says it. He pulls JR’s underwear back up over the bruise. “Try not to let him get into your head. You’re worth a hundred of him.” JR starts to turn under him and Apolo lifts up automatically to let him flip over.

“More words of wisdom from the short track God Apolo Anton Ohno?” JR asks teasingly. He watches embarrassment flash across Apolo’s face, quickly replaced with a seriousness that has JR listening intently.

“No. Just advice from someone who has skated against assholes just like Francois for more years and at more competitions than he’d care to count,” he leans over, his face drawing closer to JR’s, Apolo’s hands pressing deep into the mattress. “When the guys around you try to tear you down, try to distract you, when the claws come out… that’s when you know you’re doing something right. No one harasses the guy they know they can beat. Not at this level. Instead they try and knock down the guy they’re most afraid of.” He smirks. JR rolls his eyes, not quite believing him.

“Are you going to kiss me and help me take care of my hard on, or am I going to have to go take a cold shower,” JR asks, changing the subject. Apolo snorts, leaning down and taking JR’s mouth in a hungry kiss. He breaks away a few seconds later.

“While a shower will be necessary in the immediate future, because boy do you stink, I think I can stand the smell long enough for a little,” his words are cut off by JR’s laughter.

“Shut up, Apolo,” he says, tugging Apolo’s mouth back to his own.



JR tries to let it all go. His hip hurts but it’s a familiar pain. They’ve all skated with bumps and bruises before. It’s more normal to skate bruised than otherwise. This is nothing new really, but every time he feels the ache it reminds him of just how he got it and it pisses him off all over again. It’s not so much that Hamelin did what he did. It’s not even why he did it. It’s the things he’d said afterward. The things he’d implied. JR knows everyone has been hovering lately. Even after two successful world cups where JR had held his own and medaled a total of 4 times, not even counting their relay win at World Cup 4, the team still watches him like he is going to nosedive into the ice at any moment. Even Kyle Carr does it, and of all the guys on the team, JR gets along with him the least. Yet in the two days since the fall, Kyle C has asked him if he was ok no less than five times. JR appreciates the concern but he’s still the same guy he’s always been. He’s tough. He’s strong. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves.

When Simon suggests they skip opening ceremonies and watch them from the dorms, JR nearly loses it. Instead he takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes.

“You want to puss out and stay here and watch on the TV, you go right ahead. I’m walking. It would be a lot more fun if you guys came with me,” JR says and goes to change into the appropriate uniform. They are supposed to leave in less than a half an hour and there isn’t much time to waste. Apolo shows up in their room a few minutes later and starts to change too. But JR doesn’t say anything to him, just stands in front of their bathroom mirror fixing his bright red tie. He thinks he looks ridiculous. There is really no reason to take a bunch of athletes and put them in matching red ties and white blazers just to parade them out in front of the world. He feels like he’s dressed to go to a Valentine’s Day Dance. Apolo’s arms slide around his shoulders from behind, taking over the straightening of his tie. JR frowns at him in the mirror but lets him.

“Are you going to be this grumpy for the entire Olympic Games?” Apolo asks. JR’s frown turns into a glare. He pushes out of Apolo’s arms and spins to leave the bathroom. “JR! Ok, I’m sorry. That came out wrong!” Apolo says, reaching for and snagging JR’s wrist. He tugs him back closer and JR lets himself be pulled. “Will you just talk to me? What the hell is bothering you?”

“I don’t know. I just…” JR shakes his head. Apolo tugs him closer, hands going to his shoulders. JR sighs. “I know he’s an asshole. I know I shouldn’t still be letting the shit he said bother me. But it does. It bothers me.”

“What part of that shits little tantrum is still bugging you?” JR takes a deep breath before replying, and when he does he talks to Apolo’s reflection, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t know why you all treat him like some fragile butterfly. You watch him like he might break at any moment. It makes me wonder if the boy wonder has lost his edge,” the words come out just as harsh as Hamelin had spat them out two days before. Apolo sighs but doesn’t say anything. JR turns to look at him. “How am I supposed to argue with that? It’s true. How am I supposed to feel confident and focused when every time I turn around someone is asking me if I’m ok? If I need to rest? If I need to take a break?” he asks, watching Apolo frown.

“Everyone on the team, coaching staff included, loves you, JR. Well nearly everyone…” he says making JR laugh. “But seriously, you’re part of a team. We all care about you. We’ve all seen what you’ve gone through the last few months. It’s not a lack of a faith or confidence in your abilities. It’s concern.” He sighs, pulling JR closer until their foreheads press together. “I know it still hurts you,” Apolo says quietly. JR tries to pull away but Apolo tightens his grip, not letting him. “Don’t deny it. Pain is a part of life, it’s not something to be ashamed of.” JR sighs, giving in and pushing closer. He bends down, wrapping his arms around Apolo’s shoulders and pressing his face to the junction of Apolo’s shoulder and his neck.

“It’s not that bad,” he whispers. “And it’s not constant.” Apolo nods.

“I know. But I still wish you had told me,” JR sighs but can’t really argue with that.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. Apolo squeezes him close and runs one hand through the back of JR’s hair.

“Having people caring about you is not a weakness. Admitting to pain is not a weakness. I wish I could just make you believe that.” JR tightens his arms, and kisses Apolo once on the neck.

“This is hard. Harder than I thought it would be,” he says, lips brushing Apolo’s neck with each word. He pulls his head back to look down into Apolo’s eyes. He feels like it’s the first time in days his eyes have met the other mans and not looked immediately away. “I thought, back in July that there were two options. Either I’d still be in so much pain that I didn’t even make the team. Or I would be perfectly fine and come here and kick ass. I didn’t think I’d be in this limbo where it still hurts but I can race. But I don’t feel like I’m at my peak. And I don’t want to disappoint myself or the team, or make a fool of myself, or upset anyone. And it’s just... stupid.” He smiles sardonically and Apolo’s lips quirk in response.

“You can skate while you’re in pain. You can kick ass and win medals. You can show the world that kidney donation doesn’t mean the end of the world. But you know how much of this is mental. If you’re doubting or thinking about all this other crap you’re going to end up skating like shit.” JR sighs. He knows this. But it’s still good to hear it. “You also don’t have to be an asshole to your friends, just because their love and concern is a tad overzealous.”

JR nods, and pulls away from Apolo’s body, reaching for the last part of his uniform, a navy blue baseball cap with USA embroidered across the front. He pulls it down over his hair, and stares at himself. He looks stupid. He reaches for the second hat, pulling it down onto Apolo’s head. Then he turns to look at their joint reflection in the mirror.

“We’re all going to look like such douche bags,” he says. Apolo laughs, the sound filling the entire bathroom. They’re interrupted by a pounding on the door, Jordan’s voice calling for them to “hurry the fuck up!” JR looks back at Apolo, still smiling and rolls his eyes. “You gonna kiss me when the fireworks go off?” he asks, tugging at the sleeves of his blazer. Apolo tilts his head, pressing closer, pushing JR back into the side of the doorframe. He leans in even closer, and presses his mouth to JR’s. JR melts against him, one hand sliding under Apolo’s open jacket to rest on his hip. There’s more pounding on the dorm room door, followed by hysterical laughter that sounds suspiciously like Simon’s. Apolo tugs at the lapels of JR’s jacket and smiles at him.

“If you want me too then I’ll be happy to oblige,” he says, and JR’s whole face lights up.

The opening ceremonies last 3 hours, and the team leaves about halfway through. But they stay long enough for the parade of nations, and the beginning of the performances. They don’t stay the entire night to watch the torch being lit. It’s the last thing to happen, and they have prelims in the morning. But JR gets his kiss when the fireworks go off.



The first day of competition dawns bright and cold. The city of Sochi is relatively mild in temperature where it sits on the Black Sea. It is cold enough to hold the outdoor winter events, but generally warmer than some of the more frigid areas of Russia. But this particular morning there is a cold wind blowing through the city, and it makes JR’s bones ache.

They have morning ice time to do some last minute drills and prep. Racing doesn’t start until 5pm that evening. First up is the 1500m heats. The 1500 is the only thing the men are racing that first day, but the whole team heads down to the oval anyway. This is JR’s best chance for a medal. The one he’s heavily favored to win. But he blocks that all out and just skates. He does fairly well in the first heat of the morning, making it easily into the semis. The semifinals won’t be raced until an hour and a half later. That’s when things start to go wrong.

A power surge knocks out power in half the lower level of the Oval. JR finds this out when he, Jordan, and Kyle C are sitting in their mostly empty Team USA ready room and are interrupted by a knock on the door. Jordan opens it and in comes two officials, and the two Francois’ of Team Canada. Francois Hamelin and Francois-Louis Tremblay. Because of the power outage they’re doubling up all the teams at this end of the hallway and Team USA is now rooming with Canada. JR sighs and mentally rolls his eyes before turning back to his skates. He has nothing against Flou, he’s a pretty cool guy, if slightly quiet. It’s Hamelin he intends to ignore. He has no intention of allowing the bastard to get inside his head again. Unfortunately what he intends is not what happens.

For most of their prep time they work in silence, the Canadians stick to their one side of the room and the Americans to the other. It’s when they’re changing into their suits that the problems start. JR’s careful to keep his back to the wall. He doesn’t want to answer questions about his scar. Not here and not now. He steps out of his warm-up clothes, and pulls on his skinsuit. He has his shin guards on and the suit pulled up around his waist when he sits back down. It’s when he’s checking the straps on his back pad that the questions start.

“JR, what is that?” Flou asks. He says it with curiosity. JR fights not to flinch.

“It’s a pad. Protection for my lower back,” he says, holding the pad to his lower back and pulling the straps around to secure it in place. Flou frowns at him, pulling his own suit up over his underwear, looking concerned.

“You hurt your back? It is not serious, I hope,” Flou asks, tugging his throat guard down over his head, and tightening it in place. JR shrugs, doing the same.

“Of course it is not serious. Chelsea is invulnerable. Except when he’s not,” Francois says, smirking in their direction. JR stares at him a bit dumbfounded. Then he looks toward Jordan sitting two chairs over to his left. Their eyes meet and both their lips start twitching and soon they’re both snickering in amusement. Kyle just shakes his head, a smile spreading across his face.

“Seriously? That was the best insult you could come up with?” he asks. JR glances at the Canadians. Flou is hiding a smile, bending over in his seat to rummage in his bag. Francois glares at them, his face turning red with anger. He doesn’t say a word though, just finishes getting dressed, tugging his gym shoes back on over his feet. JR rolls his eyes again, for real this time, and goes back to getting ready. Flou and Kyle finish first, and then both get up to leave. They’re skating in the first semi and have to head out to get warmed up. That leaves JR and Jordan alone with Hamelin.

Hamelin is ready to go a few minutes later. While JR is still tugging his shoes on and Jordan sits in the corner, legs bouncing in sync with the music in his ears, eyes closed and mind focused on his own pre-race rituals. JR doesn’t look up when Francois steps up close, but tilts his head up to look the other man in the face, one eyebrow raised in question.

“You will lose today,” Hamelin says, leaning closer. “You will buckle under the pressure. Queen out and fall down just like you always do. Apolo might appreciate you being his little Bitch, but here, on the ice, you are going be all mine,” he reaches out to pat JR’s cheek, but JR sits back slapping his hand away.

“Go fuck yourself, Hamelin,” he says, standing up out of his chair and getting in the older man’s face. Jordan’s there an instant later, prying them out of each other’s space.

“What the fuck!” Jordan hisses, shoving Francois away. “Jesus Christ, Hamelin! Back off!” he says stepping between them and crossing his arms. JR glares at Hamelin over the Jordan’s smaller shoulder. Hamelin laughs.

“Take it easy, Malone. You don’t have to protect the child from me. But I can see why you might want too. Fragile as he is,” his eyes travel down JR’s chest to the strap still visible where the pad is cinched around JR’s waist. “Good luck,” he says mockingly, scooping up his gear and leaving the room, the door slamming in his wake. Jordan’s hands clench at his sides.

“What the hell did he say to you?” he asks, turning to look at JR. “JR?” he asks. JR shakes his head, avoiding Jordan’s eyes. He plops back down in his seat, reaching for his bag of gear, digging around for his gloves. He knows they’re in the right side pocket, where they always are, but he needs something to do with his hands, something to keep them from visibly shaking.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” he says. He watches Jordan walk over to his own gear scooping up his skates and helmet, gloves already tucked inside.

“You sure?” Jordan asks.

“I’m fine,” JR says back, harsher than he means too. Jordan frowns at him.

“Ok, Jeeze. Sorry for asking,” Jordan replies. “You coming?” he asks, heading for the door. JR sighs.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute. Go on ahead,” he says. JR watches Jordan leave, his reluctance obvious in every step.

JR retrieves his gloves from the pocket of his bag, tossing them into his helmet where it rests next to his skates. Then he sits up, fisting his hands in his hair in frustration. He takes a deep shaky breath, trying to gain control over his anger. He hisses when the motion causes the Velcro strap of his pad to scrap across his other side. In his annoyance he yanks at it, pulling it off completely and tossing it on the ground between his feet. He glares down at it. His anger is red hot and it burns in his gut. Suddenly it’s like every insecurity he’s ever had has flown back to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance. That he’s not good enough. Not strong enough. That he’ll fuck things up irrevocably. He glares down at the pad. He hates it. Hates that he needs the damn thing. That it makes him different from the other skaters. That his back still pains him. That his hip is smarting from the fall two days before. That he’d let Francois Hamelin get to him then, and again just now. Making a decision that he’s sure he’ll regret later, he picks up the pad and flipping it over in his hands, stuffs it inside his bag of gear. Then he pulls his skinsuit up and on, threading his arms through the sleeves and zipping it up so hard the zipper almost jams.

Part 6