Throughout the impromptu show, Emil had been leaning up against the outer partition, just letting Reno get it out of his system. At least, that was how it started. But the more Reno got into his performance, flowing from practice to a loose routine that promised the ice would need a new finish later, Emil's smile faded, eyes widening. That wasn't just a lot of hard work, that was innate talent. Yes it was flawed, occasionally brutal, in need of polish that it might never actually get, but it was good, very indicative of Reno as a person. Even without the taunting, teasing, the bet made for his sake, it was just...perfect. The best start to something that could be a full program, if Reno ever agreed to it.
He's on the ice by the end of it, a tiny bit unsteady in skates that had seen better days, brow furrowed and smile fierce as he scoots over to Reno to intercept him in his circles. He catches the man by the hand and uses the momentum to swing himself around, then bumps up against the other man's side.
"I have skates already," he points out with a laugh, by no means actually rejecting this lovely gift of passion and gloating. He refrains from kissing Reno like he desperately wants to do, hoping to spare him from teasing from his friend. He releases Reno's hand and glides off over the ice, turning around to glide backward, steady and confident as a true professional would be. His hands come together behind his back as he surveys the rink, then starts into a routine that might be familiar to Reno, from back when they'd been first getting to know eachother. He has the music in his head, and he doubts the man with his CDs has it available to play. Maybe if his stereo has an auxiliary port... For now, he's just going through the sequences as if warming up, until he pulls into his first jump, a flawless quadruple flip with enough height on it to nearly allow for a fifth rotation, if he really wanted to push it. The problem is that while he lands smoothly, it does leave a deep divot in the ice where the shavings flew off the back of the blade. He drops low and slides back toward Reno with his hand out to catch and pull him along.
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He's on the ice by the end of it, a tiny bit unsteady in skates that had seen better days, brow furrowed and smile fierce as he scoots over to Reno to intercept him in his circles. He catches the man by the hand and uses the momentum to swing himself around, then bumps up against the other man's side.
"I have skates already," he points out with a laugh, by no means actually rejecting this lovely gift of passion and gloating. He refrains from kissing Reno like he desperately wants to do, hoping to spare him from teasing from his friend. He releases Reno's hand and glides off over the ice, turning around to glide backward, steady and confident as a true professional would be. His hands come together behind his back as he surveys the rink, then starts into a routine that might be familiar to Reno, from back when they'd been first getting to know eachother. He has the music in his head, and he doubts the man with his CDs has it available to play. Maybe if his stereo has an auxiliary port... For now, he's just going through the sequences as if warming up, until he pulls into his first jump, a flawless quadruple flip with enough height on it to nearly allow for a fifth rotation, if he really wanted to push it. The problem is that while he lands smoothly, it does leave a deep divot in the ice where the shavings flew off the back of the blade. He drops low and slides back toward Reno with his hand out to catch and pull him along.