I was just watching episode 9 again, as you do, and something came to my mind. I already had this feeling that Michele Crispino’s FS outfit and everything (even his choreography, kind of, vibe wise) reminded me of something and I finally remembered what.

Look at what he’s wearing and then compare it to this - Stephane Lambiel’s performance during the Golden Skate Awards in 2011 to “Don’t Stop The Music” (I personally LOVE this performance. It’s amazing, he is amazing!)

Am I imagining things or are they really kind of similar? 

The Jumper to Keep Him Warm

Emil watched Michele look towards the giant hall they just came from. It was bothersome to see Michele this vulnerable, but, on the other hand, he was glad it finally happened. He had discussed many times with Sara that the tempo in which Michele was going through life along with the stress he constantly fough (and half of which he gave himself because of being overprotective over Sara) were putting too much pressure on his shoulders and it was only a matter of time for all the tension to burst out. He had been scared for a long time that, knowing his nature, Michele would become aggressive when it happens and that Sara alone might not be able to deal with him.

However, there he was, his best friend, shivering in the night in the middle of winter Russia, eyes wet with tears. He knew Michele well enough to understand what the problem with going back was. And if he didn’t even want to see Sara, it must’ve been serious.

“Alright,” he finally said and smiled again. He unzipped his tracksuit hoodie and put it over Michele’s shoulders before leaning down to pick up the jacket. He put that piece of warm clothing over Michele’s shoulders, too. The Italian was visibly really cold and the last thing he wanted was Mickey getting ill. “Keep it on, okay? You don’t have to go back inside. I’ll just give our stuff to my coach and he’ll take it to the hotel, I’ll be right back. Wait here,” he gave Mickey another assuring smile before disappearing.

It really took him only a few minutes before he was back. In the short time he managed to pick up all his and Michele’s stuff in the locker room. He found both their phones, wallets and hotel key cards (though he felt bad for going through Michele’s stuff) and put them in his backpack. He also took Michele’s sweater and jacket so that he had his own warm clothes and gave the rest to his coach to take to his room. He ran back to Michele as fast as he could.

“Alright, I’m here, I’m here…” he was hardly catching his breath. “Here, I brought your clothes…. Let’s go find a place where you can warm yourself up,” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred as his lungs were fighting for every bit of the cold air.

Michele opened his mouth to protest when Emil draped both his tracksuit and jacket around his shoulders, but was cut off when the other insisted that he keep it on. Not trusting his words, he frowned and nodded in resignation, reaching up to adjust both of the layers around himself. Despite the other saying that he didn’t need to follow, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his gut as he watched his friend walk back towards the building. He knew full well that Emil wouldn’t abandon him, but the fear was still there.

Then again, he had thought Sara wouldn’t leave him either...

Pacing a path in the ground that was lightly dusted with snow, Michele tucked the lower half of his face in the front of Emil’s jacket, giving some relief to his numb nose. It was stuffy because of the chill, but he could almost imagine that it still smelled of him. Burying his hands in the pockets, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as time seemed to stretch on forever now that they were apart. What if Emil got held up? What if a reporter wanted to speak with him? Was he ruining his night by making him feel obligated to be by his side?

Going off on his own definitely crossed his mind, but Mickey knew that Emil would likely try to hunt him down. He didn’t want to worry him any more than he already had and did not want to be responsible for him getting a cold because of him. The sound of quickly pattering footsteps caught his ears and the wave of relief that rushed over him was evident in his violet eyes as he was greeted with the sight of a hurried Emil. Had he run the whole way...?

“You, too. Here, take these back.” Not leaving any room for argument, he shrugged out of the two jackets Emil had wrapped around him and handed them back to trade for his own. Shoving his concern aside and how touched he was that Emil hadn’t wanted to keep him waiting, he pursed his lips into a surly pout, averting his gaze once more. “Catch your breath. You didn’t have to run, you know.” He reprimanded him firmly. “You could have tripped and I’m not carrying you back to the hotel.”

152/365

wine drunk italians are clingy and poor emil’s heart is gonna burst any second now… but first, let me take a selfie *bass drops*

[Couple Selfie Series:  JJSeung | LeoGuang | Emichele | Victuuri | Chris + Phichit]

The Jumper to Keep Him Warm

Emil let out a surprised sigh as his friend suddenly hugged him. The sudden attack on his body almost took his breath away and he had to make a step backwards not to fall. He dropped the jacket on the ground again, even though it was the last thing he cared about. He listened carefully to Mickey’s words.

“Now, now,” he couldn’t help but smile softly. “Who is this Mickey I’ve never met before?” he asked and wiggled a biit in Michele’s embrace to get his arms free. He hugged Michele back, probably a bit tighter than he’d dare to in any other situation, but Michele really felt like he needed his support.

“Can you at least decide which one of us makes things difficult? I’m getting lost in this,” he laughed and pressed Michele against his own body even tighter. “You don’t make anything difficult, Mickey, it’s just how you are and it’s okay. You’re my best friend, right?” he pulled Mickey away slightly to be able to look in those wet purple eyes. “I wouldn’t call you that if I didn’t mean it. I like you and I enjoy being around you even though you’re a bit grumpy sometimes,” he assured the Italian.

“Now. I think it’s time you finally put the jacket on. Let’s go inside, we’ll find ourselves some quiet place and you’ll tell me what’s going on, okay?”

Michele hugged Emil tightly, resting his chin on his shoulder, and for the first time all night his mind went quiet. It was rare that he ever got this close to anyone other than his sister. Aside from the lie he told himself that he was a man and didn’t need such things, he just... never felt comfortable. Whether it was the contact itself or he was simply afraid to be that vulnerable, he wasn’t sure, but he had always kept others at arm’s length.

The giddy Czech skater had always pushed those boundaries, though. With soft touches in greeting or by slinging an arm around his shoulders when they were in the audience together. Mickey would always attempt to shrug it off, but would give up after a while. It was like a reflex with him and when someone landed a jump Emil would cheer loudly, that arm would snake around him again, and he’d excitedly ask if Michele had seen it as well even though he knew he had. At that point, the Italian just accepted his fate until the end of the performances when he’d finally get up and push Emil’s arm off like it burned despite having tolerated it for the last hour.

Despite how terrible he felt, Michele couldn’t stop the somewhat bitter laugh that escaped him at Emil’s playful question. If only he knew the answer himself, then maybe he wouldn’t be like this. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his friend’s gaze, averting those unsure violet eyes when Emil gently eased him out of the embrace. Part of him was afraid that if he looked hard enough that he might see right through him and Mickey wasn’t even ready to face the truth himself, let alone let someone else see him so broken. He couldn’t understand why Emil even put up with him.

“Okay... Okay.” He nodded and took a step back out of Emil’s arms, his voice slightly wrecked from all the yelling. Hugging himself, he hadn’t realized he’d been shivering until that moment. Mickey looked back at the foreboding building they’d both come from and felt his stomach flip uncomfortably at the thought of going back inside. What if they ran into someone else? He couldn’t have anyone see him like this. “Could we... go somewhere else? Maybe... dinner? You want dinner?” He rambled, looking off down the steps. Anywhere but at Emil in that moment. “Just... anywhere but here.”

minus the fact that michele would rarely ever be that shirtless, this is so him and sara

The Jumper to Keep Him Warm

@mikele-crispino

Emil stayed on the bench, looking up at Michele in surprise. He’d been told so many times to stop, he’d been told so many times to get lost and stop bothering Michele, but he’d never heard it in such tone. He took a breath in to defend himself, but Mickey kept talking and talking and Emil was less and less sure what he was even talking about.

The smile from his face disappeared quickly, now he was watching his best friend with an expression full of worries. When he realized Michele started crying, he tensed up, but held in the urge to just shoot up from the bench and hurry to him. He knew well Michele would push him away and it wouldn’t help anything. He didn’t want to scare him away, not in this state. Not after such difficult day.

He took the jacket that fell on the ground with Michele’s sudden movement and he stood up finally. He tried to move as calmly as he could, his eyes glued to Michele’s face.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Mickey. What am I making difficult? I’m sorry, whatever it is. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he said sadly. Even though he sometimes didn’t accept other people’s boundaries, now he knew he shouldn’t cross the line and he stayed a few steps away from Mickey, though he could still see the painful expression in the Italian’s face. He didn’t really know what happened between him and Sara that day, Sara only muttered something about “getting a small break from each other” before leaving and he wasn’t sure what exactly that meant. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way, Mickey, i really mean it, I really liked your performance today, that’s all,” he tried to explain. “I’m sorry…”

As always, Michele didn’t mean to take his frustration out on Emil, but it had all been building up until he cracked beneath the pressure. Especially when his friend was being so selflessly sweet, looking out for him once again, and making him feel like he could maybe, just maybe, let down his defenses this once... It was more than Mickey deserved and he knew it... Yet he couldn’t stop longing for it.

All his life he had relied only on one person. His precious Sara. As strong as he appeared to be, he could only pull off such a feat because she was by his side. From the moment they were brought into the world, he rarely spent a moment without her. There wasn’t a single aspect of who he was that was not touched or molded around her. Now... Who was he? Who was Michele Crispino without his sister?

That was something he knew he had to figure out over time. Just like he had on the ice earlier. The only problem was gathering the courage to start. Right now, though, he still clung desperately to whatever semblance of his former self he could pull from the chaotic whirlwind of his emotions. It was all slipping right through his fingers... and he couldn’t let Emil see that.

Something in Mickey broke hearing his normally chipper friend sound so utterly dejected and knowing it was completely his fault. He wasn’t even sure what babble was falling from his lips, his thoughts so addled that he wasn’t even making sense to himself. It was no wonder that Emil took it to heart. The distressed Italian wiped at his damp eyes and shook his head violently to try to silently tell Emil he wasn’t to blame because if he opened his mouth he didn’t know what would spill out.

Throwing caution to the wind, for the first time in his life Mickey gave into the insistent tug in the center of his chest and threw his arms around the taller male. Actually, it was a bit awkward since he practically tossed his whole weight into him, but it was without a doubt a hug. It was the first time he had ever initiated contact with another person aside from Sara and he’d probably regret it later, but right now he lost himself in it.

“No, I’m sorry.” His breath hitched in a barely restrained sob as he tried to speak, probably more nonsense that was as conflicted as what was going on within him. “I’m sorry, Emil. It’s not you. You never do anything wrong, and I... I am the one that makes things difficult... All this time, I’ve been such an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

The Jumper to Keep Him Warm

As Emil adjusted the jacket back over his shoulder, Michele felt the kindness in the gesture begin to melt his heart. The Czech skater had always had a knack for getting around his defenses and that alone made him try to harden them more.

‘So you decided that coming out here to freeze with me was better?’ Mickey thought incredulously, narrowed violet eyes softening with concern as he watched Emil sigh into his hands in an attempt to warm them up. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t he be a little selfish and walk back inside? Emil was such a kind, good friend... and Michele knew he didn’t deserve him with how cruelly he treated him at times. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his company, but in this moment he wasn’t sure how long he would last under Emil’s prying eyes that always seemed to peer through the veil he erected to hide how he truly felt.

Why was it that he was so afraid of letting him see that side of him? The easiest answer was that he was a man and a man shouldn’t be weak like this. Yet the truth had been that he didn’t want to get close to anyone but Sara for fear of them taking his time away from her. Now... Now he was afraid that, like her, Emil would leave him, too. If he let himself open up, Mickey knew he would cling too tightly and it would only be a matter of time until he felt smothered.

At the sudden compliment, the grumpy Italian tensed up and averted his gaze guiltily. Because of his argument with Sara, he hadn’t been able to watch the majority of his best friend’s performance. Even now, despite having not uttered a word to him about it, Emil seemed to know how he’d feel. Granted, he wouldn’t put it past Sara to have told him about everything that had happened. She may have even asked him to look after her sullen twin and that alone made Mickey even more frustrated. What if Emil was only here because Sara had asked? As if it was his job to pick up the pieces that she’d broken.

The praise and understanding words from Emil were too much, causing the emotions boiling within him to finally spill over. “Stop.” It was not a demand. It was a plea, soft and barely heard. The feeling of pins and needles went through his frozen fingers as he balled his hands up tightly into fists - a last attempt to try to hold himself together. Yet it did nothing to keep the stinging touch of tears at bay and he pushed himself up from the bench, the swiftness of it knocking the borrowed jacket from his shoulders.

“Just stop. Why do you do this? I never asked for it!” He snapped, but lacked the same brusqueness he usually had when he tried to drive someone off. “Stop forcing yourself to say all these things. You always come around with that smile and these kind words. I can’t stand it!” His voice broke with a sob and Mickey reached up to rub his sleeve across his face, cheeks burning as too hot tears streaked over the chilled skin. “Why do you make it all so difficult...?”

He’d been pretty damn good at hiding it on the ice, he’d flubbed a jump but it wasn’t the landing that’d hurt him, it was a chunk of ice kicked up from his skate, it was his elbow that landed on it, or at least just beneath the elbow. The ice had long since melted away just leaving a nicely sized cut in his skin and usually it’d be pretty easy to patch something like this up. He’d had training for this, basic first aid but that was… more on someone else than himself.

He could fix this on someone else, had someone else slipped on the ice, gotten a lovely chunk of sharp frozen water lodged beneath their elbow, he could help them but this? Helping himself? Yeah, no doctor would ever advise you to try and patch up your own wounds it was agony.

It wasn’t even a huge injury! Just a little cut but it was deep enough to bleed for a ridiculous amount of time, luckily he’d had sleeves, black sleeves covering up the injury so it didn’t seem too obvious while he skated but now he had to deal with it, he could probably go to the medics, he probably should go to the medics but maybe he was stubborn. he knew he shouldn’t be stubborn though, and was about two minutes away from just getting up and heading to the medics when he heard footsteps, the door closing in the locker room he currently occupied.

The bandage he’d been attempting to wrap around the gauze and medical tape covered injury to really secure the patch in place sliding down his slim arms only adding to his frustration. He looked up, wide caramel eyes falling upon the Italian skater… Minami hadn’t seen him skate, he’d hurried to the locker rooms right after his own performance so he’d missed it… he assumed he missed it anyway. “Uh…” eyes following the other mans’ hands as they wordlessly asked for the bandage and when words finally accompanied the movement he sighed and nodded, passing the roll over, he’d managed to pilfer three rolls from the first aid box in the locker room, everything else he’d already had on him.

His parents made him keep at least a few first aid supplies with him at all times. “Okay… the worst bit is already patched up though, you just… have to wrap this up that’s all” question of the month did: Michele Crispino know how to bandage an arm? “Uh… use this to hold the first wrap around down” handing him the medical tape shortly after “it’ll make wrapping it easier… thank you” help was always appreciated.

Michele accepted the bandage silently and shifted to tuck one leg beneath him on the bench so he was facing the kid. The last thing he expected was to be instructed by someone who could very well have been half his age, though. Granted, the blonde had clearly done well so far on his own with taking care of his injury. When he was younger and scraped his knee, he would never admit to it but he fought back tears... Still! He didn’t need advice from some juvenile.

“I know what I’m doing. I don’t need a kid’s instructions.” He interjected sternly, his words surprisingly less harsh in comparison to if they were directed at someone like his friend Emil. Even the grouchy Italian couldn’t bring himself to be cruel to such a cute faced kid, it seemed.

Despite his protests, though, he accepted a piece of the tape and used it to secure down one edge of the bandage before beginning to wrap up the injury. His motions were slow and methodical. Like with most things in his life, he took his time to make certain things were done perfectly. The roll of bandage dwindled in his fingers until it was all wrapped neatly around that skinny arm.

“There... That should do it.” He muttered with a nod of approval as he secured down the other end of the bandage. “You aren’t going back out there, are you? You should take it easy.”

Continuation of [x] 

Since he started college in Detroit, he felt he needed to find a job in order to support himself, although between lectures, studying, practice and work, it was all crazy to fit in his schedule and for the first few weeks he didn’t think he would make it. 

Fortunately, somehow he was able to make a plan, finally his new life in USA started fitting into a gradual pace, and he didn’t feel that overwhelmed as he used to. 

Today his shift had short hours because he has an early lecture on the next day and not many come to the cafeteria at this hour on a Tuesday afternoon, so this was one of the shifts he enjoyed most. Standing next to the counter, he noticed two foreigners walking in, so he goes to their table to serve them. 

The young man’s rather abrupt response did not least offend him, instead he lets out a short laugh “ I know all those selections can be confusing, believe me I felt that way too when I started living here”. Indeed everything in Detroit felt a little over the top for a foreigner “So black coffee?”

@mikele-crispino

Michele blinked up at the server. Black coffee? What did that even mean? Just as he was about to open his big mouth in what could only be some sort of unsavory remark, he felt a sharp kick to his chin and doubled over. Narrowed eyes immediately shot to the culprit - his sister, and her stern look was enough to tell him to behave himself. Damnit, she always read him too well.

“You must forgive my brother. He hasn’t had any coffee today and it’s making him cranky.” Sara interjected with a sweet smile. One that was much too kind for his liking. How could she be so friendly to a complete stranger, and a man no less!

As pretentious as Italians were about their coffee, ordering it there was so simple. There weren’t that many options and the drinks were always served in a small cup, at a temperature ready to immediately consume in just a few sips. After the sun went down, coffee was also rarely drunk. Even now, it was a bit late in the afternoon for them to be partaking, but the flight and time differences had thrown them off.

“Yes, it’s all so confusing.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he reached down to rub his shin. “Something strong and without milk, please. In the smallest glass.”