"Well...It was what you liked....and you weren't there so I just...Hm. It was a way to be close even if you were galaxies away," the redhead shrugs slightly, shaking his head. Conversation ends there for a time as they rent skates for Emil and head to the locker room.
Reno pulls a set of stretchy skinny jeans and an old black tank top out along with some well-worn plain black skates. Second-hand, by the look of them, though well-maintained with blades sharpened freshly. He changes, lacing his skates tight before licking his thumb to rub at a scuff.
"Ready?" he asks, arching a brow and holding a hand out to escort the other man.
"The usual, Reno?" the attendant asks, thumbing over at a radio that had seen better days haphazardly wired to the speaker system. Once upon a time it had been a bustling rink full of people, a popular date spot. Now it was almost safe to say that Reno's patronage was the only thing that paid the rent.
"Uhhh, yeah. Well, wait. You have the D-Mix, right? With the, uh," he gestures vaguely, struggling with the details.
"AC/DC? Do I!" the man hops up, suddenly enthusiastic as he flips through a CD case and pulls a disc out, feeding it into the stereo. "No one's been on the ice yet today so you've got a fresh field."
"Did you go over it this time?" the redhead scowls, prompting the man to raise both hands an nod.
"Sure did."
"Hate to threaten you with another lawsuit, Ondrej," Reno smiles slyly, the man flipping him a bird. The former Turk blows a kiss in reply before tugging Emil towards the ice.
The warm up is dull, Reno doing little to show off, stretching as he does wide figure-eights, the music popping through a variety of old rock songs. Reno bobs his head, singing along with some of them, playfully pointing and singing at Emil until AC/DC's Back in Black starts to play.
Reno takes off, building speed around the rink, turning easily to fly backwards, all but sailing as he vaguely moonwalks across the ice, only to flip around once, twice, three times, hands gesturing air guitar. Then, without any more signal than an almost mad grin, the redhead kicks off the ice and pulls in for a tight toe loop, ice flecks rising under his skates. His weight should mean a brute smack back into the ice with a fierce gouge, but his momentum keeps him going, his landing a smooth transition back into motion. Around he goes, leaning back further and further and he drifts almost spread-eagle around emil, looking at the other skater upside down from his vantage.
Of he goes again, slipping along the ice as he leans in to flip-flip-flip, skates clicking against the ice before he rights himself and weaves across the rink, the music taking off with him.
"Two-hundred crown says you can't show off for you friend!" Ondrej shouts as Reno goes sailing by, flipping a bird with one hand and grabbing his crotch with the other.
"Five-hundred! And he gets the skates free!"
"Bullshit! I'll take it!"
"You always lose!" Reno crows, zipping past Emil, looping back around and speeding up before absolutely nailing a triple axel. And, notably, not breaking himself or the ice in the process. Ondrej curses, something crashing in the background as the man kicks it over. for his part, the redhead crows loudly with laughter before howling at the rafters, obviously ramped up to the Nth degree both by the music and the exercise. For all that what he does is extraordinary for a technical beginner, he clearly doesn't think of it as more than a fun diversion. Whatever the point of it, he's proud of his skating.
Small wonder his coworkers taunt him, if he has any measure of passion for it. Though likely if they saw him - far less graceful and elegant than violent and passionate - they might have less to say.
"EAT THAT, ASSHOLE! PAY UP!" he shouts, laughing brightly as he circles tight around Emil, winking at the Czech skater. "Free skates; Ain't I the best?"
no subject
Reno pulls a set of stretchy skinny jeans and an old black tank top out along with some well-worn plain black skates. Second-hand, by the look of them, though well-maintained with blades sharpened freshly. He changes, lacing his skates tight before licking his thumb to rub at a scuff.
"Ready?" he asks, arching a brow and holding a hand out to escort the other man.
"The usual, Reno?" the attendant asks, thumbing over at a radio that had seen better days haphazardly wired to the speaker system. Once upon a time it had been a bustling rink full of people, a popular date spot. Now it was almost safe to say that Reno's patronage was the only thing that paid the rent.
"Uhhh, yeah. Well, wait. You have the D-Mix, right? With the, uh," he gestures vaguely, struggling with the details.
"AC/DC? Do I!" the man hops up, suddenly enthusiastic as he flips through a CD case and pulls a disc out, feeding it into the stereo. "No one's been on the ice yet today so you've got a fresh field."
"Did you go over it this time?" the redhead scowls, prompting the man to raise both hands an nod.
"Sure did."
"Hate to threaten you with another lawsuit, Ondrej," Reno smiles slyly, the man flipping him a bird. The former Turk blows a kiss in reply before tugging Emil towards the ice.
The warm up is dull, Reno doing little to show off, stretching as he does wide figure-eights, the music popping through a variety of old rock songs. Reno bobs his head, singing along with some of them, playfully pointing and singing at Emil until AC/DC's Back in Black starts to play.
Reno takes off, building speed around the rink, turning easily to fly backwards, all but sailing as he vaguely moonwalks across the ice, only to flip around once, twice, three times, hands gesturing air guitar. Then, without any more signal than an almost mad grin, the redhead kicks off the ice and pulls in for a tight toe loop, ice flecks rising under his skates. His weight should mean a brute smack back into the ice with a fierce gouge, but his momentum keeps him going, his landing a smooth transition back into motion. Around he goes, leaning back further and further and he drifts almost spread-eagle around emil, looking at the other skater upside down from his vantage.
Of he goes again, slipping along the ice as he leans in to flip-flip-flip, skates clicking against the ice before he rights himself and weaves across the rink, the music taking off with him.
"Two-hundred crown says you can't show off for you friend!" Ondrej shouts as Reno goes sailing by, flipping a bird with one hand and grabbing his crotch with the other.
"Five-hundred! And he gets the skates free!"
"Bullshit! I'll take it!"
"You always lose!" Reno crows, zipping past Emil, looping back around and speeding up before absolutely nailing a triple axel. And, notably, not breaking himself or the ice in the process. Ondrej curses, something crashing in the background as the man kicks it over. for his part, the redhead crows loudly with laughter before howling at the rafters, obviously ramped up to the Nth degree both by the music and the exercise. For all that what he does is extraordinary for a technical beginner, he clearly doesn't think of it as more than a fun diversion. Whatever the point of it, he's proud of his skating.
Small wonder his coworkers taunt him, if he has any measure of passion for it. Though likely if they saw him - far less graceful and elegant than violent and passionate - they might have less to say.
"EAT THAT, ASSHOLE! PAY UP!" he shouts, laughing brightly as he circles tight around Emil, winking at the Czech skater. "Free skates; Ain't I the best?"