It was a beautiful Valentine evening in the snowy Lenzerheide. Stars were twinkling in the cobalt sky and the cold water of the lake in the village reflected the full moon. Lights were on in the quaint wooden houses around as a couple in their fifties was approaching their rented hotel.
The two men still appeared to be rather fit, even if their shape was even better when entertaining the crowds on a weekly basis. You see, the two men were once elite-level biathletes, long past their careers full of medals, titles and globes. Some people still gathered the courage to say hello and ask for autographs even after all those years - and the two Frenchmen felt as honored as if it happened for the first time.
Now, the shorter one with magnificent dark brown eyes carefully guided the taller and younger one to the entrance, warning him about the steps so he wouldn’t trip and his blindfold wouldn’t fall off.
“Quentin, you’re really starting to scare me. Where are you taking me?” the younger one asked for what felt like a hundredth time, given his curious nature.
“Patience, Emilien,” Quentin replied. “I promise you’re going to like it.”
And with that, he locked eyes with the nearby receptionist, who told him to follow her in their native tongue.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you so much once again,” Quentin smiled. “Are you ready, chéri?”
“I’ve been ready for the past hour,” Emilien pouted.
Quentin took that as enough of a yes to finally take the piece of fabric off. What Emilien saw brought tears in his eyes. There was a table right in the center of the dining room, capturing attention with how it was decorated. The staff chose to give the couple crimson red chairs in comparison to the usual white ones to sit on, matching the place mats with embroidered details. A glass to pour some fine wine was standing near each of the plates, and between them - a mouth-watering cake with two tiers.
“Happy tenth wedding anniversary, love,” Quentin told him with the kindest eyes before tilting his head upwards to kiss him, hands resting on each of his cheeks, his husband eagerly returning the favor, holding him by his waist.
The receptionist took that as a cue to leave.
“I should’ve known you wouldn’t forget our day,” Emilien shook his head. “Wow, and even the cake!”
“Well, I figured we should treat ourselves. I figured since you like sweet appetizers…”
“What flavor is it, if I may ask?” Emilien turned to the waitress assigned to them.
“If I remember correctly, it should be raspberry-flavored.”
“Mmm… What are we waiting for then? Let’s eat!”
Quentin had to laugh. Years after retiring, Emilien’s cheekiness still remained. He remembered how he was standing in the VIP zone to watch him race after his own career was put to an end. After Emilien hanged his rifle, that’s when they got married.
“We both like cakes that are decorated in a simpler way… but… I just had to.”
Emilien raised his eyebrow, not sure what Quentin meant, then stared at the top of the cake in disbelief.
“Not the dartboard!”
“Yes, the dartboard,” Quentin smirked, before feelings of nostalgia overtook him.
And he wasn’t the only one.
“This… it brought back so many memories,” Emilien got emotional. “This is where we got together, after all. Same place… same day…”
“To think it almost didn’t happen…”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you…” the waitress came back, pouring them a well-aged Cabernet Sauvignon. “It’s just… My older sister and I watched you race and we were big fans of yours. I overheard that the darts have a big meaning for you.”
“We’re flattered,” Quentin grinned from ear to ear. Apart from winning, it was fan interactions he enjoyed the most.
“If I may ask… How did you two get together, exactly? I like hearing our guests’ stories if they are willing to share. Having you come in here is… too big of an opportunity,” she looked away shyly.
“Well, I don’t know about you, Quentin, but I don’t mind,” Emilien proclaimed.
“Then there is no reason to say no,” Quentin replied after a few seconds. Usually he preferred to be discreet about his personal life, but the romantic atmosphere changed his mind.
“It all started at the World Championships…”
____________
13th February, 2025
The French team was still in the euphoria of their first medal of the Championships. Everyone thought that gold was possible. Doing it Norway-style though… One could never get used to winning like that.
Emilien was no exception. He’s been an anchor leg the whole season, and yet it felt like his maiden anchor leg that day. Thankfully, his teammates managed to build up an advantage that didn’t suffer even after his penalty loop.
Of course, he’d rather if his inaccuracy didn’t stain the result a little, but hey, he still got to bring the gold home.
Currently, he was sitting on the floor of the shared room of Sophie and Lou. Most of the group came here to play Icebreakers, even if they knew each other for quite a couple of years. Aside from Jeanne and Oceane, maybe, but they were slowly getting more than comfortable in such a company.
“Now, just to clarify, these are not the icebreakers that were second-hand embarrassing,” Jeanne started explaining, making everyone giggle. “These have some quite deep questions that could bring us closer together. They come in different categories, but since tomorrow is Valentine’s day…”
“Wait, these have love questions too?” Ingrid asked in excitement. Her girlfriend Julia invited her over to make sure she won’t dwell on what happened the day before. She apparently played this before and considered herself a romantic person.
“You bet they do.”
“Alright, but this doesn’t include drinking, right? We need to be focused on tomorrow’s race,” Lou nudged the youngest team member.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Oceane assured her. “Also, should you six play in couples to make the rounds a little shorter?”
“Sounds fun,” Julia agreed.
“Alright… so Ingrid and Julia, Fab and Eric, Emil and Anna and then… it’s us four.”
Emilien certainly felt like back in high school again. Especially in the later years, his classmates were all coupled up, overpowering the single people. A slight deja vu, if you might.
And he belongs to the latter group again. Why does it fricking bother him so much?
“Alright! The youngest one always begins,” Jeanne winked, taking out one of the cards. “So, I’m taking out a romantic one, of course. What is your favorite flower? Ooh, that’s a good one. Hmm… I think I like tulips.”
“We have the same favorite,” Lou high-fived her. And so, the round continued - Eric liked daisies, just like Julia, hyacinths were for Oceane. The Claude brothers were fans of daffodils, while Ingrid and Anna were classics and enjoyed roses.
“And you, Emilien? What are your favorite flowers?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest… Maybe the sunflowers? Something about them reminds me of my childhood.”
“Awww…” Anna pouted, taking out a card that was all about what-ifs.
“Interesting. What would you be if you didn’t do your current job?”
Right then, the room door opened. “What is going on in here?”
Emilien’s gaze went straight up. Quentin was standing in them, looking rather inquisitive and smiling widely.
That smile was going to be the death of him. It always brightened every race and hotel room, and it hurt if something or someone wiped it off. Ever since Emilien defended his pursuit title, he felt his friendly feelings weren’t as friendly anymore. He wasn’t sure what to call it, until one particular rest day.
There was a dartboard in the cabin in Oestersund, and Emilien watched a thrilling fight between Quentin, Fabien, Simon and Antonin. He wasn’t sure why he never joined that game, actually. Maybe it was his timidness. Slight embarrassment because his aim, compared to his rifle, wasn’t as accurate with a dart.
“You can join us, if you’d like, Emil,” Quentin called out back then. “I promise we do not bite.”
“Are you sure?” Emilien looked away when their eyes met.
“Of course! I really wouldn’t like it if someone here felt left out. Every team member needs consideration and appreciation.”
Spoken like a true team leader.
“What is stopping you?” Antonin teased this time. “I mean, you never have problems when it comes to socializing with others, joining games or playing cards.”
“That’s true, actually,” Simon realized.
“Eh, how should I put it… I can’t play darts for shit.”
“But that’s no problem!” Quentin called out. “If you want, we can teach you.”
“And then, we can make the dart throwing motion into our ceremony gesture!” Fabien joked around.
First, Simon guided him right to the ideal position to shoot, then Antonin demonstrated a nice throwing technique. However, Emilien was still struggling.
“Here… now, don’t get scared, I just wanna…” Quentin came up to him, getting close. Like, close close. They have hugged before, of course, but this felt… strangely intimate as the man he admired so much carefully bent his hand to a stable position, from the shoulder to the elbows.
When Quentin’s hand went past the wrist and touched Emilien’s palm, he thought he would melt into a puddle.
And even more so when he gave him a piercing stare and said: “Now you should be good to go.”
He hit the center dead-on right on his first try.
Maybe Emilien was overreacting, but that situation - and how pleasantly flustered he was when Quentin was in such a small distance, confirmed to him he had a crush.
A crush which only kept blossoming.
Now, he was a little worried because he knew how much Quentin wanted that mixed relay spot - and when it didn’t work out, he wasn’t exactly silent about it. The words about consideration and getting left out back then suddenly stung a little. Emilien was afraid that maybe he’d hold a grudge.
Thankfully, it was not the case - as soon as the race ended, he congratulated each and every one of them, the team spirit ever so strong.
“Done with the Valentine’s Day shooting?” Fabien wanted to know.
“Oh yes,” Quentin chuckled. “We were cruising on the tracks with Tarjei when we saw the social media manager.”
“Did you also do those little hearts?” Lou inquired.
“Or maybe do one together, like I did with Ziggy?” Emilien remembered. “You know, one for one half…”
“Yes and yes,” Quentin responded. “But… that’s not all.”
Fabien gasped in surprise. “What else then?”
“Well…” Quentin paused, visibly not containing his laughter. “There was a thing that Tarjei made up and the guys from the socials loved it.”
“Well, what was it?”
“He pretended to lean in for a kiss and I went…” Quentin began, before he made a grotesque expression, eyebrows furrowed and the lower lip forward as he swiftly pulled away.
Now, the howling could be heard through the whole floor, Emilien was sure.
“That is comedy gold, I swear,” Oceane was shaking her head. “Can’t wait to see the final product.”
“Speaking of which!” Jeanne took the word again. “We are playing a nice card game. I was wondering, are you planning to call your significant other tomorrow? Maybe they could tell us what your favorite flower is. I know that round is over, everyone, but I’d really like to know.”
The blunt question caught Quentin unprepared. He went completely red, unsure how to answer, before finally croaking out:
“I do not have a… significant other.”
“Oh,” Jeanne was also surprised. “Well, do you at least have a crush on someone?”
“Jeanne!” Lou wanted to tame her. “You can’t just ask people that!”
“To be honest, we don’t know either,” Eric admitted. “We are all taken in the men’s team, but Quentin still stays so secretive about his love life.”
Emilien noticed Quentin was even redder now, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Even if he’d like to know if he still had a chance, he’d rather if Quentin told them willingly.
“Guys, leave him be,” he decided to speak up. “Quentin, if you don’t want to answer, then don’t.”
“Uh, no, no, it’s okay, thank you, Emilien,” Quentin assured. “It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. If you all really want to know, then… yes, I am crushing on someone.”
Ingrid, Oceane and Eric left out a shocked ooh.
“Naughty Quentin,” Fabien teased again.
“I have been for a while now, actually,” Quentin continued, ignoring the remark. “And since then, everyone else just… stopped existing for me. They never fail to make me happy, I hate to see them sad and… At this point, I think it’s more than just an ordinary crush. This… is special..”
On that, Emilien practically heard his heart jump from his chest. He realized he hasn’t heard Quentin pouring his soul out like… ever.
“And for the record… it’s violets,” Quentin added, looking straight into Emilien’s turquoise eyes.
“Those are cute,” Ingrid noted.
“Wait, so are you playing with us or not?”
“You already started, maybe next time,” Quentin declined politely. “But if you’re up for it tomorrow, I could join too. I’m going to take a nap, I think.”
“Sleep well, then,” Julia wished and the brunette disappeared again.
“Jeanne, before we continue… could I talk with Emilien real quick?” Fabien wanted permission.
“Uh, yeah sure.”
“Alright then. You are coming with me.”
He dragged him out after making sure Quentin was away, then whispered to him: “Why didn’t you tell us before?”
“Uh, tell what?”
“You know damn well what. You LIKE-”
“Shhh!” Emilien hissed, covering his teammate’s mouth just in case. “It doesn’t have to be the talk of the day tomorrow!”
“I just can’t believe I didn’t notice before… I am fucking blind,” Fabien rolled his eyes. “You… like Quentin.”
Emilien knew there was no way he could deny it now. “Yes… yes, I do. I like him, there, I said it.”
Fabien smiled widely hearing that out loud. “Now that I think of it, you two… would actually pull it off. You’d look cute.”
“Fabien!”
“What? I’m only stating facts.”
“Uh, thank you then?”
“You’re very welcome. So, I have one more question - why the heck doesn’t Quentin know yet?”
Now it was Emilien’s turn to blush. “You heard him back there. He already likes somebody else, and given how his eyes sparkled, I’d say he is deeply in love with that person.”
“Emil. What if that someone is you? He did look straight at you when he mentioned his favorite flowers,” Fabien rebutted in an instant.
Emilien stared at him in awe, then let out an awkward chuckle. “I… I don’t think so.”
“But you would definitely like to be that person, right?”
“More than you can imagine… Seriously, after almost four years, it almost feels like a rock to hold those feelings in.”
“You’ve had a crush on him FOR HOW LONG?!”
“Quiet, Fab, please, quiet,” Emilien had to calm him again, speaking fast because of the panic.
“Alright, alright, I’m calm now. What I’m trying to say is… You have to tell him, as soon as possible.”
“Fabien, but if it’s not me, it will ruin everything.”
“No, it won’t! If you don’t take the risk, you might never find out what he feels, and then regret it.”
“Fabien, Emil, hello!” Tarjei greeted them suddenly, wanting to unlock the door to his own quarters.
“Hi, Tarjei,” Emilien waved back, hoping the Norwegian didn’t hear anything.
“Guys, I don’t know if Quentin already told you-”
“That you tried to kiss him? Yes, he did.”
“Nooo, not that,” Tarjei giggled. “Remember what was organized on Valentine’s Day last year in Nove Mesto?”
“Uh, that I do. Fans sent us some love letters,” Emilien answered. He was a part of the report, after all.
“Well, this year they might not do that kind of report, but they kept the tradition… along with the option to write a love letter to a teammate. Those should be distributed in private, of course. So, Fabien, if you’d like to surprise Eric, now is your chance.”
On that, Fabien had a devilish smirk on his face, looking right at Emilien. “You’re right, Tarjei - that definitely is a chance. Thank you for the information!”
“Anytime,” Tarjei replied and finally closed the door.
Fabien turned Emilien so he would be facing him and told him: “We might just have gotten your problem solved. If saying it feels tough, write yourself out! Quentin will come to you, and whether he really gave you hints or not, at least he will know!”
“I… Fabien, I don’t know about this-”
“Promise me right now you will at least try,” Fabien insisted. “Otherwise I will steal your gaming console at night and won’t give it back until the end of the season.”
“Oh that’s low,” Emilien whined. “Not my gaming console!”
“So will you try or not?” Fabien asked again, giving him some of his best puppy eyes.
Emilien tried to resist, but in the end, that sight was too much.
“You sneaky bastard… Alright, alright, I will try it.”
______________
14th February, 2025. Valentine’s Day.
Right when Quentin woke up and brushed his teeth, he looked into the mirror and let out a deep breath.
This was the time when he’d finally confess to Emilien.
He was silent for way too long and he hated the thought of waiting. He didn't even know what was holding him back. Fear, maybe? And yet... So many things can happen in just one wink. The last thing he wanted was Emilien being snatched away by another.
Or worse - another biathlete.
He remembered Ruhpolding, back when his amazing, talented teammate persuaded Johannes to finish his race. How he was listening to the interview where Emilien explained what was going through his head.
That was the first time Quentin felt jealous. To set things straight, he approached Johannes not too much later and asked him right away.
“Is there something going on between you two?” he remembered saying, trying not to appear angry or desperate.
“Good friendship,” Johannes replied as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
“...Only friendship?”
“Alright, what is actually going on, Q?” Johannes grew concerned. “You never seemed so suspicious!”
Quentin sighed deeply, then decided to confide in the so far best biathlete of the season. “Okay, you got me. I might feel something… something more towards Emilien.”
On that, Johannes’ eyes went wide. “Oh! Well, you don’t have to worry. I will not steal him away from you.”
But Quentin still wanted to be sure Emilien knows how he feels. So, he tried to give him as many hints as possible - like smiling at him a little more shyly when he arrived at breakfast, wearing a polo shirt instead of a hoodie, and trying to make eye contact stealthily.
Then he waited until breakfast, when he went away to film this year’s Valentine video for the fans. He wondered what the theme was this year.
Quentin was so glad Tarjei shared that the Valentine’s Day cards from fans are staying. And even more that now he could write one to a teammate without risking it could get in the wrong hands.
As he cut out a shape he felt was practical and still wholesome enough, he picked up his pen, wrote Dearest Mimil, and… Then his mind went blank.
Why are feelings that are running wild in one’s head suddenly so hard to pour into words? Spoken or written?
Maybe it would really be better spoken out. Maybe he could try simply asking him out through this card? It was a rest day for the men, maybe they could have a run to the Heidsee Lake and there he’d confess.
“Yeah… yes, that would be the best solution,” Quentin decided. And so his right hand suddenly wrote as if its life depended on it.
There is something I have been keeping from you these past five years and never found the courage to tell you. Meet me in front of the hotel after the girls finish their sprint and I will reveal my secret by the lake. -qfm
“That should be enough, right?” Quentin thought out loud. Gosh, there goes the overthinking again. Was his handwriting neat enough? Will he be able to read the message? What if he says no?
‘Hell no, Quentin. No backing out this time.’
__________
One miss from Lou on the standing as well as on the prone. Quentin sighed, as he knew how much Lou wanted to win gold, and how all the odds were pointing at her. With Julia missing a shot and their newest team members falling behind, Justine was now the sole hope for the gold.
Hope… Quentin was slowly starting to realize what he did when he finally met the employee responsible for the private mail. He hated to admit it, but he was shaking slightly as he ultimately threw the invite in.
He started to realize it was the best thing he could do.
And who knows… maybe Emilien really does love him back? He could receive his own love letter… Just the thought made the butterflies in his stomach spread their wings again. Seeing words of romance written in Emilien’s handwriting was doing something to him.
What were the chances?
Quentin never considered himself much of a romantic person, until he realized what real love felt like.
He has been experiencing it since their first double in Hochfilzen, having to smile like a fool the moment he saw Emilien smile as well, taking care of his hair more than usual and tried being there for him anytime he had doubts. Be the rock Emilien so needed at those times.
He was proud of how much he grew and how stronger the younger one became.
Gosh, how head over heels he was for him. So much he’d organise one of those tacky dates from the romcoms in case Emilien asked him to.
He had such a wonderful feeling about the rest of the day… He slowly started to believe, not just hope, but believe, that maybe, just maybe, there really would be one special card in that mail box.
____________
"Special Valentine's day cards!" one of the receptionists knocked that evening, on the door of the room the whole team was currently chilling at when it was time to end Justine’s winning celebration.
At least for the men, who, according to their coach, should be focusing on their own sprint. Only Emilien was missing.
“Already?” Quentin sat up from the bed, relieved and inside thinking - finally. The day felt like forever, almost like waiting for official results of sprints or individuals.
At least he managed to read most of the fans’ messages. They reminded him how much he still loved the sport even more.
There was now a nice pile of neat envelopes, and each of them had a name assigned to it.
Fabien took the beautiful piece of sage green paper with heartfelt words from his boyfriend and he went as red as a tomato.
"What? Your loverboy has some extra plans for you after the race?" Oscar teased.
"...Maybe."
"Oscar, can you not?" Eric laughed it off, also flustered.
"Too big of an opportunity to miss."
“You have one in there too, love.”
“Oh, do I?” Eric asked in turn, grinning from ear to ear as he found a golden envelope.
“‘You’re worth more than any gold medal for me’ Aww, Fabien, you’re so sweet…”
Eric had to lean in and kiss his darling with passion and devotion.
“Alright, you two, you have to get a room,” Julia shook her head in amusement.
“You bet we will.”
“Later. For now, we’re curious what you all received.”
“Oh, this one is for me,” the younger Claude realized, trying to read Anna’s dedication in his broken German.
“A plus for effort,” Oscar tapped him on his shoulder.
“Guys, by the way, I heard that apparently, Sturla has not one, but two suitors here in this hotel,” Oceane shared.
“Wait, really?”
“Really.”
“No fricking way,” Jeanne was shocked. “Who are they?”
“Well, one is definitely Tarjei,” Sophie confided. “The amount of times I caught him accidentally brushing his hand against his…”
“I noticed that too,” Justine confirmed.
“And the second one?” Quentin was curious. “Wait, there are still a few letters, I might as well distribute them to all of you.”
“Maybe Vetle,” Oscar thought out loud as Quentin sorted out the letters. “Just think of that Olympic relay. Wasn’t Sturla being extra clingy back then?”
“Wait, wait, you might have a point,” Lou looked up in realization. “And Vetle wasn’t really against it. It has to be him, I’m sure.”
"And what about you, Quentin?" Fabien snooped over to the Olympic champion, with a smirk on his face.
"Any admirers from the inside of this or some other team I should know about?"
Quentin, however, wasn't answering. In fact, he wasn't only quiet, but his expression looked sad and mortified at the same time.
"...Umm, Quentin? Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he replied, voice slightly cracking, Quentin clearing his throat to brush it off right after.
Now everyone could see he came out empty-handed.
“Is… is there something wrong?” Lou crawled closer to him, examining his face in concern.
"No, no… I swear I am okay, Lou,” Quentin repeated, sounding more urgent this time. “I mean, it's not like I expected a card like that to come to me, the fans' ones are enough, heh.”
“Quentin-”
“And I've never understood the hype of Valentine's Day anyway. I need some space, be right back."
Without further ado, he left the room, breathing ragged, leaving the rest of the team in silence.
“Alright, what the heck is going on?” Julia interrogated straight away. “I haven’t seen him so down since he forgot about that penalty loop in Soldier Hollow.”
Fabien didn’t understand either, before he looked at the remaining unread letters… and there…
“Oh shit.”
"From the looks of it, I think he did expect a-"
"Of course he did, Eric," Fabien interrupted him, happy he couldn’t explode from disbelief.
In his head, he was thinking how lucky Emilien was for taking photos outside the hotel, otherwise he'd kill him right on the spot.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Are you going after him?”
“You know what? Yes, I am.”
Except it wasn’t Quentin who he was about to chase down.
_____________
“Is your camera safely in its case?” Emilien heard Fabien from the doorway right as he came back from his photo session.
“Eh, yes, it is, why?”
“Good,” Fabien gritted, before slamming the door shut and pushing him against the wall.
“What the fuck, Fabien?”
“Are you out of your mind? I thought we had a deal! You think I wouldn’t notice?” Fabien questioned, sounding rather furious.
“Hold up, I don’t know what you are-”
“Do not play that game with me, Emilien,” Fabien had to stop him. “You know what I’m talking about. You promised you would finally get out of your ass and tell him. Would you kindly tell me why you didn’t? You are all about the philosophy of love in that video, and then can't even follow your own principles!”
“I WROTE IT, OKAY?” Emilien cried out to cut Fabien off. He told him to drop him to show the proof. Emilien reached into his drawer and took out the little piece of paper with Quentin’s name on it.
“There. See?” he told him, sitting on his bed. “I wrote myself out… and then I lost my courage. I stepped on the brake right when I wanted to throw it in. Why do you think I went out for so long?”
“Emilien…” Fabien joined him. “I just want to understand. Why would you not take your chance?”
The other sighed, looking at the carpet under him before he started talking. “My doubts won over me. What if the hints were not actually hints and I misunderstood? I didn’t want to come across as too assuming… and the fact it’s Valentine’s Day today… The only worse day to get rejected on would probably be my birthday.”
“Rejection really is something you dread, right?”
“You have no idea.”
“Well… I can’t imagine how it must feel for Quentin right now.”
On that, Emilien moved away a little. “What are you trying to say?”
“Just a few moments ago, the Valentine’s Day mail came to us. Quentin decided to sort out the letters… and when he saw nothing arrived for him, he appeared beaten up. He decided to leave the room and neither of us knows where he went. However, he did leave something behind.”
“And that something is?”
“Read for yourself.”
With that, Fabien gave the precisely cut card to his colleague, who, already sensing his horrible mistake, read out what it said out loud.
“Shit,” he hid his face in his hands. “Fuck… No, that’s not what I wanted!”
“I know you didn’t,” Fabien responded, resting one palm on his back.
“Do you think he is waiting outside of the hotel or…”
“I don’t know, Emil.”
“Shit, no, how could I make him think I’m not interested?”
Abruptly, he stood up to get dressed and put something warm on, his confession still in his hands.
“I need to find him and set things straight for once. But where?”
“You could… maybe read it through once again.”
“Great idea,” Emilien praised in hurry, opening Quentin’s invitation again, but still carefully enough not to ruffle it.
“I will tell you my secret by the lake,” he read out once again, breath getting even shorter.
With one last look at Fabien, he pushed through the entrance… and ran.
____________
Of course it was too good to be true.
Next time, someone ought to remind him not to get his hopes up again.
The cold evening air urged him to pick up the pace, yet drained him relatively quickly.
He huffed in frustration. Maybe it was better Emilien wasn’t interested in him and his affection. The lake was much further than he initially thought. Now, he was simply surrounded by dark forests and occasional cars.
Quentin looked at the stars above, still processing the recent events. He tried to shift his mind to his first race at these championships, but to no use.
Rejection hurt. Like hell.
Could it be possible that there was a reason why he decided to wait so long, after all?
The freezing temperature started to get under the globe winner’s skin. This really wasn’t a good idea, what the heck was he thinking? He doesn’t need to get sick right before the sprint.
He longed for warmth. Warmth of the hotel lobby and also comforting words. Could Oscar or Lou get him out of his hurting, maybe? They must know him well enough by now.
How else should he find out other than turning around and going back?
And so he did. Feeling the wind on his face, he fought against it and against the tears threatening to leave his eyes. For god knows how long.
Stay strong. Do not think of him. Do not think of him. Do not-
“Aaah! You need to watch where you’re-” Quentin protested as suddenly, someone broke his momentum. He wanted to continue, but then he realized who bumped into him in full force.
“...Emilien?”
“Hello,” Emilien replied. There was a short period of silence between the two… and then something occurred. Something that left Quentin absolutely speechless.
Because Emilien grabbed him by the waist, slouched down… and their lips met. He could feel the warm, soft lips of his love against his own, cold and chapped, the kiss somehow growing in intensity as the strong arms held him tight and refusing to let go of him.
Immediately, Quentin reacted, trying to take the initiative and deepening their shared moment, the two getting lower and lower until gravity made them hit the grass alongside the narrow road.
…What was happening? Quentin was utterly confused, and that’s why he pulled away.
“Mimil,” the little nickname slipped out of his mouth, “what… why-”
“Because I made you feel the exact opposite of what I feel,” Emilien explained, still holding Quentin tight. “I read your letter, I even wrote you mine, but… I was afraid I might be left behind… I know you spoke about appreciation, consideration… and yet this was something completely different. I have fallen for you so hard, and since you taught me how to play the darts, there was no turning back. My admiration turned into desire. Desire to hold you close, kiss you, call you mine. I think… I even think I love you.”
“Oh my god…” Quentin was taking in the weight of the words. “Ever since then? Holy crap, that’s so long ago…”
“And now you have me here,” Emilien responded. “But you still didn’t reveal your own secret like you promised.”
“Heh…” Quentin had to giggle, ecstasy overtaking the heartbreak. “I just can’t believe you… actually love me back. Yes, that is my secret. I have fallen for you back in Hochfilzen 2020, the feelings deepened… and after you got injured, that’s when I knew I would never let anything happen to you, ever. I wanted to care for you, bring you joy while still challenging you on the tracks. I truly feel the same way.”
And then Quentin realized they were still in the grass. “How about we take this to the hotel? Cuddling in the sheets would be much more comfortable than freezing our noses off in here.”
Emilien nodded, standing up right after Quentin, now hand in hand walking towards the hotel, ready to announce the good news to the rest of the team…
___________
Present time.
“That is one hell of a story,” the young woman by the married couple’s table was in awe. “How did the team react?”
“Well…” Quentin tried to remember. “Lou hugged the soul out of me as she heard the news. She had her suspicions and she was more than happy to hear they were correct.”
“Justine appeared surprised, but still happy,” Emilien reminisced. “And she and Julia wished us all the best.”
“Oceane and Jeanne already imagined their bridesmaid dresses,” Quentin smiled widely.
“In the end, Fabien and Eric were two of our men of honor at the wedding,” Emilien shared.
“As they should,” Quentin agreed. “Seriously, I am forever grateful Fabien talked some sense into you, chéri.”
“That is only fair,” Emilien smiled right back.
“Alright then,” the waitress excused herself. “Thank you for telling me all of this. Now, I will let you enjoy the cake and the rest of your anniversary. I will be nearby if you need anything.”
“With pleasure. Thank you!”
And with that, Emilien finally raised his glass, watching as his husband did the same on the opposite side.
“To us,” the glasses clang as Quentin spoke up.
“Yes… to us, and to the rest of our lives.”