Chapter Text
“Uranus!” Distracted from his staring at the TVs above, he startled when Erebus came up behind him, slinging an arm around his waist and tugging him straight into his side. “You’ve gone ice skating before, haven’t you?”
Uranus ignored the flush creeping into his cheeks. “Yes?”
“Is that a question or an answer?” Erebus snickered. “Come on. I can’t wait to see you on the ice. Good or not, it’ll be a sight.” The underlying purr in his voice didn’t make it any easier to ignore his flush, but Uranus did his best, accepting the pair of skates Saturn turned and handed him with a bright smile.
“Come on,” he said, wiggling his fingers towards them, the opposite holding his own pair. “Let’s get in there! I’d like to get at least some skating in before the heavier crowds flood in. Jupi thinks we should have at least two hours or so.”
Erebus rolled his shoulders, finally loosening the arm around his waist and accepting his own skates from Jupiter as he stepped over from where he’d been paying at the counter. Not that Uranus was free for much time, because the moment he’d stepped away, Saturn smoothly leaned in and looped their arms together, pulling him into movement as he led him straight towards another door set further down.
“This way,” he said, cheerily, almost singing the words. “Oh, I’m so excited!”
Studying the skates in his hand, Uranus worried at his bottom lip.
“Yeah,” he said, mustering up at least a tiny bit of excitement, “me too.” He had skated before, but it’d been a long while, and he wasn’t… the most coordinated person. And if he was totally honest with himself, he’d probably be leaving with a bruise or two. And not the kind he liked seeing.
Saturn squeezed his arm within his. “Oh, it’ll be fun,” he said. “I promise!”
Uranus fought back a sigh, instead nodding loosely towards Saturn, freeing his arm as they finally stepped into the—somehow even colder—skating rink part of the building, the massive ice rink in the middle, surprisingly clear of other skaters.
Not completely. But enough to be surprising.
“Knew it,” Erebus said, smugly, close enough that Uranus jolted. “Empty.”
“Perfect idea, darling,” Saturn said, turning around, setting his skates in front of one seat and clasping his hands together. “I’m so glad you brought it up.”
“This time of year normally is busy, though,” Jupiter said, coming up behind him on Erebus’s other side. He held his own skates loosely in his hand, though truth be told Uranus really couldn’t imagine him on the ice. “I’m surprised it’s this empty.”
“Are you protesting it?” Erebus shot back, tipping his head to the side to stare at him. “Maybe this is just a stroke of luck. My luck.” He paused, tacking on. “And intelligence.”
Jupiter’s lips pressed together in an obviously amused smile.
“Yes,” he said, “your intelligence.”
Erebus narrowed his eyes. “Are you being sarcastic?”
“Not at all.”
“That’s—”
Whatever Erebus said was interrupted—at least for him—by Saturn’s voice, his warm hand abruptly grabbing his own and pulling him forward. “Come sit by me, darling. I’ll help you put your skates on.” Uranus allowed himself to be pushed and prodded into one of the chair, though he did wrinkle his brow as he stared at Saturn.
“Mate, I’m not a child. I can put my own skates on,” he said, dryly.
“I know,” Saturn responded, already gesturing for him to take his sneakers off. “I just like helping you. Is that so wrong?” He batted his eyelashes and crouched down, patting one hand at his knee. Uranus couldn’t fight his smile, though he did roll his eyes, toeing off his sneakers and remaining compliant as Saturn helped put the skates on, tying them up before patting his knee one more time and pushing to his feet.
Uranus stayed in the seat testing the weight of the ice skates on his feet, watching as Saturn pulled his own on, humming under his breath. “You’ve gone skating before, Saturn, haven’t you?” he asked, brow furrowing slightly.
“Of course,” he replied, turning his cheek towards his shoulder and smiling. “More than, in fact. I quite enjoyed it. I wouldn’t consider myself a professional in any manner, though!” He gracefully pushed to his feet and offered him one hand. “And I think Erebus is better than I am.”
“You got that right,” Erebus said, smoothly stepping past them. He leaned up against the wall as he pulled the blade guards off, just as easily sliding straight onto the ice. “I am better than you.” His snickers were drowned out by the sounds of his skate blades on the ice, fading even more as he coasted away as easily as running.
Saturn clicked his tongue. “He’s lucky I love him.”
“You can say that again,” Uranus muttered. He finally accepted Saturn’s hand and allowed him to pull him straight up, nearly crashing straight into him before he hobbled over to the wall and grabbed it for stability. Bloody hell, if he’d thought he could remember what it was like to skate, he’d been… wrong. It felt like he was learning to walk again.
Not that he remembered learning to walk.
But he’d obviously done it, considering—
Okay, off subject. Uranus listened to Saturn’s delighted laugh and chose to ignore him even as he slowly clambered along the wall, carefully setting one skate onto the ice before remembering the blade guards and groaning. “Stupid skates,” he muttered under his breath, bending and ignoring the latent ache in his muscles. “This is—” He yanked one off, keeping a tight grip on the wall. “—so bloody annoying.” He slipped both blade guards in his jacket pocket and scraped together all of his confidence to attempt a slow glide forward, and—
Nearly collapsed straight to the icy floor, caught only as Jupiter reached out, fastening a hand around his arm and pulling him back to the wall.
“You alright?”
Uranus blew out a sigh. “This should be easy,” he complained. “Why isn’t it?”
Saturn peeked out from behind Jupiter. “I’m sure you’ll pick it up easily, darling! Just give yourself a bit of time to adjust.” He stepped out onto the ice… and then just like Erebus, easily slipped the blade guards off before smoothly gliding forward. “Ooh, now this is just as fun as I remember.”
He exchanged a glance with Jupiter, who looked about as excited to get on the ice as he looked whenever he had a metric ton of tests to grade.
“Come on!” Saturn wiggled his fingers. “Onto the ice, Jupi. You’ll pick it up!”
Erebus skated to a stop beside Saturn with a screech of blades against ice. “You can always stick to the wall,” he said, eyes jumping towards him, mouth pulling up in a crooked smirk that Uranus would futilely deny he liked. “Looks like Uranus already learned that.”
“Shut up, mate,” he shot back. “Don’t be rude.”
His skates wobbled against the ice, a fact he registered and then immediately clutched tighter to the wall. Erebus put his hands up, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m just trying to give you some advice! No need to be rude about it, Uranus.” Beside him, Saturn pressed one hand to his mouth to hide a smile that was nevertheless very obvious. “Anyway…” He flashed them a two-finger salute, crooked smirk still firmly fixed in place. “Have fun. I’m going to have my own.”
Just like before, he turned and skated off, leaving Uranus to huff in annoyance before turning his attention to Jupiter. “Are you…?” He trailed off, but he knew Jupiter understood.
Coming onto the ice?
Jupiter shook his head as if he’d caught him by surprise. “Oh, yes.”
Releasing his arm, he turned his attention to his own skates, carefully—and yet obviously clumsily—removing the blade guards one-by-one before slipping them into his jacket pocket. “This isn’t—” He slipped and just barely stabilized. “—h-horrible.”
Uranus dug his teeth into his bottom lip to resist the urge to laugh.
“Here, mate,” he said, scooting up. “Take the wall with me.”
Jupiter did exactly that, flashing him a grateful look. “Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll let you two get adjusted to those skates,” Saturn said, clasping his hands together. “I shall get a little bit of skating in. I’ve been waiting for this!” He turned with a flourish, skating off just as quickly as Erebus had, as graceful as he always seemed.
Uranus looked up to the ceiling and sighed. “This is going to be fun,” he muttered to himself.
He tried several more times to skate forward without tipping over, all of which but the last he was narrowly saved from pitching into the ice by Jupiter catching him.
The last time he did hit the ice.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned, knees stinging from the force. “Ow.”
Jupiter crept forward, looking about as stable on the ice as he was—which was to say not at all—and offered him a hand. “You alright?” he repeated. “Are you hurt?”
Uranus… did not take it.
“No. Not hurt.” He paused, registering the dull ache that remained in his knees. “Not that much, at least. Sorry, mate,” he said, clambering up onto his feet and barely stabilizing, “if I take your hand we’re both hitting the ice. And trust me…” He grimaced. “You do not want to do that.”
He nearly unbalanced at the sudden screech of blades on ice, stopped only as warm hands settled against his shoulders. “Uranus!” Saturn squeezed his shoulders, thumbs digging in gently to keep him in place, like he expected him to fall again. “Are you alright? I saw you fall!”
In a graceful move—one that almost felt like it was mocking him—he skated a circle around him, glancing up and down as if checking for obvious injuries.
“You seem alright,” he said, doubtfully. “Nothing’s broken?”
Oh. Yeah, because he’d fallen such a long bloody height.
Uranus blinked. “No, mate, I didn’t break anything.”
He couldn’t help the obvious sarcasm leeching into his voice, but either Saturn didn’t care, or he didn’t mind, because he just hummed, skating forward and stabilizing him with a hand against his shoulder before he pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for several seconds. “I know you can do this, darling,” he said, whispering the words against his cheek. “Don’t psyche yourself out of it.”
Behind him, Jupiter was still leaning up against the wall, clearly testing out his skates with his brow furrowed in deep concentration.
“Uh—uh-huh.”
Saturn pressed a second kiss to his cheek. “Love you, darling. Just keep at it!” He turned around and skated straight towards Jupiter, pressing a kiss to his cheek—and also whispering something to him, inaudible to Uranus but earning him a quiet hum from Jupiter—before skating off with a merry hum of his own, straight towards Erebus on the other side of the rink.
Where he was… spinning?
Oh, great. He was trying to remember how to skate in a straight line, and Erebus was on the other side of the bloody room spinning like a professional.
So… amazing.
“You’ve skated before, Uranus? Right?”
He looked up at Jupiter, clumsily walking—rather than skating—back to the wall. “Yeah, mate,” he said, scowling down at the ice. “When I was younger.” He tested one skate. “It’s been a while, if that wasn’t already obvious.”
Jupiter chuckled. “Not horribly.”
“Don’t hold back. I know I suck.” Still, he kept Saturn’s encouragement in mind, thinking back to how it’d been before and slowly starting forward, his smile growing wider as he stayed up on his feet, barely wobbling as he glided forward, arms out to stabilize himself.
He was skating! Skating!
Even if it probably was slow as a bloody toddler.
He stopped at the other side of the rink, gripping onto the wall and turning to stare at Jupiter with a helpless grin. “Look at that, mate,” he said, breathless. He wasn’t even sure if Jupiter could hear him, but the proud look on his face only made his happiness jump up higher. “I did it!”
“Good—”
They both paused as a younger kid—which was a bit confusing, shouldn’t they be in school or something—skated between them, neatly sliding to a stop before the wall… and then rocketing off skillfully straight back towards the other end, leaving Uranus much more deflated.
Bloody hell, did the universe want him to feel bad about himself?
Because that certainly was a way to make him feel great, to see a child skating like that when he could barely wobble across the rink—the short way across, too—and had already fallen once.
Ugh.
He groaned to himself, looking up only at the quiet snick of blades against ice only to find Jupiter slowly making his way towards him, clearly unused to it and nearly falling just as much as he had. “Great job,” he said, nudging their shoulders together. “I knew you could do it.”
Uranus didn’t feel as cheered up as he wished he could.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Bloody great.”
“Uranus! Jupiter!” Saturn’s shout made them both look up only to find both him and Erebus heading straight towards them, making Uranus briefly wince in anticipation of a collision that never came. Instead, they both slowed to a stop in front of them, and before Uranus could open his mouth and ask what they wanted, Saturn stripped out of his jacket, holding it out towards Jupiter with a pleading look on his face, bottom lip jutting out.
“Jupi! Hold onto this for me, will you? It’s too warm with this on.”
No sooner had Jupiter accepted his jacket than Erebus was doing the same, though he just tossed it straight towards Jupiter before raking a hand through his hair. “Me too,” he said, panting breathlessly. “Too warm.” He tangled his fingers in Saturn’s sleeve, tugging at him roughly. “Come on. Come on! I have another idea.” Saturn turned to him with a brilliant smile, allowing him to lead them both straight off into the middle of the rink.
“Well,” Uranus muttered to himself, “At least they’re having fun.”
Jupiter leaned in. “I think it’s fun enough to watch them have their enjoyment, isn’t it?” He pressed a kiss to his temple, warm against his side in a way that Uranus leaned back into, enjoying it against the frigid temperature of the ice rink around them.
He hadn’t had the chance to work up a sweat enough to feel warm, not like Saturn and Erebus.
“True,” he admitted.
Saturn swept Erebus up from the ice and spun with him in his arms.
Uranus nearly lost his balance just watching them.
“…But that feels a little unfair.”
Jupiter laughed before giving a startled sound as he nearly slipped away from the wall. “Stars!” He was still holding onto both Saturn and Erebus’s jackets when Uranus turned to look at him, both pinned under one arm as the other hand held tight to the wall. Considering both of them were puffy winter jackets it looked almost funny, and Uranus wrestled back laughter before he reached out, snatching Erebus’s jacket from his grip.
“Here,” he said, balancing clumsily as he tied it around his waist. “Easier, mate?”
He was rewarded with a fond glance. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he muttered; and then he found himself looking back towards Saturn and Erebus, and he worried at his bottom lip as he watched them, quickly finding that Jupiter’s words were true enough to be swept up in their enjoyment even from afar. The flushed excitement in Erebus’s face and the brilliant smile on Saturn’s as they kept skating—sometimes together and sometimes apart—made his own deflated excitement rear right back up.
Tightening his grip against the wall, Uranus fumbled for his pockets, brow furrowing when he didn’t find his phone for a minute or so. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Where…?” Giving up, he turned to Jupiter. “Mate, can you take pictures? Of them?”
Jupiter gave him a knowing look. “For your painting?”
“What?” Uranus asked, flushing warm. “I… it’s—inspiring?”
Handing over Saturn’s jacket, Jupiter shook his head with a smile. “I can take some pictures for you. How many?” He paused as Uranus opened his mouth before interrupting him with a calm, “Forget that. I’ll just take a video, actually.” He scooped his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with it in one hand for a second before he lifted it. “You can keep watching them.”
Uranus scooted back just enough to be as close to Jupiter as he could manage without knocking both of them down, ignoring how his skate bumped against one of his. “Thanks, mate.”
“Anything for you,” Jupiter said, warm and fond. “There’s no need for thanks. You know that.”
Warmth crept into his cheeks, enough that Uranus half-considered taking his own jacket off—but instead he let himself be drawn into staring at Saturn and Erebus, admiring every movement they made as he leaned more of his weight against the wall.
(Should he be attempting to skate a little bit more? Probably, yeah.
But he liked watching them.)
Saturn and Erebus seemed to realize they were watching after a minute or so, because their movements got even more showy—which Uranus hadn’t even realized was possible considering what they’d already been—as they used the mostly-empty ice skating rink to the fullest.
He just clung to the wall and lived vicariously through the sight.
Uranus grimaced and closed one eye as Erebus lifted Saturn straight into the air—much like he had him, but somehow even higher—throwing him into a spin; but he landed easily, one leg thrown out and a wild grin visible on his face, somehow still picture perfect and composed.
…He was reminded all the time why Saturn had the profession he did.
Erebus launched into a spin of his own, but when he hit the ice he turned straight towards them, coasting forward with another crooked smirk. “Hey!” he shouted. “Stared enough for—?!” And then he spotted the same child Uranus had before—on a clear collision course—and frantically slowed, narrowly missing the child but falling straight down to the ice with enough force that Uranus winced, only relaxing when Erebus pushed to his hands and knees, clearly annoyed but fine.
(The child also slowed, skating off the moment Erebus lifted one hand in a dismissive motion.)
And the moment he realized he was completely fine Uranus couldn’t fight his smile, barely managing to wrestle back his laughter. Saturn glided up behind Erebus and offered his hand, but he didn’t take it, just groaned—and then Uranus couldn’t fight it back, and a single laugh pulled out of him, wheezing from how much he’d tried to keep it down.
Erebus immediately tilted his head up, squinting at him. “What the hell are you smiling about?”
Not even attempting to dim his smile a little, Uranus turned his head slightly, murmuring, “Mate, did you get that on the video?”
Jupiter’s laugh was the only answer he needed.
Blazes, he was definitely watching that later.
“Video?” Erebus clambered to his feet, indignation deepening. “What video?” Saturn pressed one hand over his mouth and turned, clearly hiding his own laughter. “What video?!”
“It’s—” Uranus struggled to speak. “I just wanted some pictures, mate. Because you looked—I thought I might try to paint you two later. Or at least for inspiration.” He shook his head. “But Jupiter thought he’d video, and—and so he got that on video,” he said, struggling to finish the sentence. “You falling. On the ice.”
Erebus skated towards them, trying to grab for the phone and completely failing as Jupiter easily lifted it out of his reach. “Delete it!” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am not—”
“Sorry,” Jupiter said, mouth twitching into a smile. “I’m not deleting it, Erebus.”
“Rude,” he hissed, eye twitching. “The only reason that happened is because that stupid—” He gave a frustrated sound and turned, attention focusing onto him. “Fine.” He yanked Saturn’s jacket from his hands and tossed it straight towards Jupiter, who barely managed to catch it. “Come on, Uranus. It’s high time you went back to skating.”
His eyes widened. “W—Wait, mate, what?”
Erebus just grinned, teeth bared; and then he reached out, hands grabbing his as their fingers intertwined. “Come on,” he repeated, “I won’t let you fall.”
…He wasn’t so sure about that.
But Uranus was forced to learn quickly as Erebus pulled him straight away from the wall and into an unskillful glide, only the grasp on his hands and stabilizing weight keeping him from completely unbalancing to fall down onto the ice. He could feel the stinging cold of the frigid air around them against his cheeks, his fingers barely responding where they were intertwined with Erebus's, but despite that he already felt too warm with his jacket on.
“See?” Erebus grinned at him… though it wasn’t the kind of grin that filled him with confidence. “You’ve already got a hang of it.”
He let go of his hands, and—
Uranus nearly immediately tipped over, expecting to feel the hard sting of the ice beneath but instead met with a solid weight against his chest, his chin tucked against someone’s shoulder.
Well. Not someone. It was pretty bloody obvious.
“Or maybe not.” Erebus snickered into his ear, one hand grasping tight to his upper arm as Uranus clumsily straightened up. “Falling isn’t so funny now, is it?”
Uranus shot him an eyes-lidded stare of annoyance.
“Come on, mate,” he complained. “You have to admit it was a little funny. You went from doing those fancy moves with Saturn to falling on your arse.”
“Arse?” Erebus repeated.
“Ass.” Uranus rolled his eyes, purposefully exaggerating it. “You know it was funny.”
“Oh, Jupi, watch—” They both turned at the sound of Saturn’s voice just in time to catch Jupiter landing hard on the ice. “-out…!” He trailed off, clearly wincing, shooting them a concerned look before refocusing on Jupiter, who’d recovered but sighed, one hand pressed to his forehead.
Erebus burst into laughter beside him, wrangling it back a moment later.
“Okay,” he said, still snickering. “You’re right. Maybe it is a little funny.”
Uranus rolled his eyes a second time, shaking his head to hide his aching smile.