The music swells to life again, Jeff begins the opening choreography at center ice, and Alex leans into his space, head turned to speak directly into Eli’s ear. “Seriously though. I know nothing about that shit, but your skating is beautiful, man.” The words are earnest, Alex’s breath warm against the sweat beginning to dry cold on Eli’s neck. He shivers. “Thanks,” he says. “I haven’t practiced it in a while; it was honestly a fluke I didn’t fall more.” “Beautiful,” Alex repeats firmly and then throws one arm over Eli’s shoulder, chafing his palm against the goosebumps on the curve of his
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