Chapter Text
“Maybe try to step a little softer,” Igor offers.
Ani rolls her eyes. “What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do? It’s this fucking car that’s so bad.” She treads on the pedal again, and they both jerk forward with the car’s motion.
Igor shakes his head, laughing. “I don’t think it is the car's fault.”
Ani throws her hands up in the air. “Will you stop fucking laughing at me? You’re supposed to be teaching me!”
“Are you sure I can’t just drive the whole way? I really don’t mind,” he says. Ani knows he’s trying to be helpful, but it makes her groan in frustration.
“No, it’s like a two and half hour drive on a good day. We’re switching off, and we’re not leaving this fucking parking lot until I can drive!” Ani said, poking him in the shoulder to make her point.
“Okay, okay,” Igor concedes, lifting his hands up to protect himself from anymore of her long nails jabbing him. “Try again then, but less power on the pedal.”
Technically, Ani has had a driver’s license since she was nineteen. Although she did take driver’s ed, she’s pretty sure the only reason she passed was because the test administrator was a perv and was too busy checking out her chest to notice any of her driving mistakes. Since nineteen though, Ani has had zero chances to drive. She lives in Brooklyn, and a car has never really been an investment she is interested in making.
With Igor’s birthday a month away though, she’s revealed to him that she’s booked them a cabin in the Catskills for three nights. He’s told her before how his dad used to take him ice fishing up north back in Russia, and how he misses the open expanse of land in the countryside sometimes, so she hopes this trip will satisfy some of his nostalgia. She’s a little rusty, but she’s positive with a couple more hours practicing in the parking lot, and she’ll be ready to help out with the driving on their trip.
***
After another hour and a half of practicing, they decide to finally stop and get dinner. Ani manages to drive them there, but then needs Igor to switch places with her halfway through trying to parallel park. He keeps bringing it up and laughing at her in their booth at a random diner, and because they’re sitting on the same side, he has to dodge every time she tries to elbow him.
“I’m telling you it’s because of the fucking truck that was parked behind us. It made me too nervous to back up,” Ani explains for the hundredth time, shoving a fry in his mouth to get him to stop laughing.
“I know, I know. How about I park from now on, okay?” He says. He’s got one arm slung over her shoulders, and he leans in to kiss her but stops at the sound of someone calling his name.
“Igor?” They both look over to see Toros approaching their table. There’s a moment of silence between all three of them where none of them move, but then Igor shifts a little closer to Ani and tightens his hold around her shoulders.
“What the fuck are you doing here with her?” The man says, looking at them as if they were aliens.
“What the fuck does it look like we’re doing? We’re eating,” Ani says, moving over Igor a little to glare at Toros.
“I mean why are you both even together?” Toros says again, annoyed already.
“Toros, I am with Anora now. Perhaps you should leave us alone,” Igor tries to explain calmly, if not with a slight menacing edge.
“With Anora now? What the fuck does that mean?” Toros presses.
“What the fuck do you think it means, dumbass? It means we’re dating, now fucking leave us alone,” Ani snaps, ready to get up from the booth, only to be held back by Igor’s gentle hand on her shoulder. Around them, customers turn to look at them. “Seriously, can’t you see you’re causing a scene?” Ani adds.
“Dating,” Toros repeats to himself in disbelief, looking between the two of them, and then walking out with one last muttered repetition of the word.
Igor turns to look at Ani as she sighs and shrinks in her seat a little. He smiles. “Dating?”
She looks at him, all the annoyance leaving her body at once. “Well yeah, you got a problem with that? What did you think we were doing?”
“Dating,” Igor answers with an even bigger smile before kissing her properly.
***
One week before Christmas, the club staff surprises Ani with a cake in the dressing room at the end of her shift.
“Happy five years!” They shout, and it takes Ani a moment to realize they're congratulating her for having worked at the club for five years now. There's clapping and then she blows out candles for some reason.
She feels out of body as girls congratulate her and slices of cake are passed around. Jimmy comes up to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Well, it was touch and go for a second there, but I'm glad you've stuck around, Ani,” he says.
“Are you finally going to give me health insurance and a 401(k) now?” Ani retorts.
He laughs in her face and says, “Stick around for another five years, and maybe we'll talk.”
Ani glares daggers into the back of his head as he leaves the room. Lulu comes up to her and gives her a hug.
“Thanks, Lu,” Ani says, trying to remain calm. She packs up in silence and doesn’t bother to grab her slice of cake on the way out.
“What’s wrong?” Igor asks as soon as they’re both in the car.
Ani shrugs. “Nothing really. It’s just that today is my fifth year anniversary of working at the club, apparently.”
“Oh, congrats,” Igor says. He reaches out to hold her hand as he pulls away from the curb.
Ani cringes, but laces their fingers together. She’s not ashamed of being a stripper, really it’s not that. It’s just, what had she done in the last five years? What had she to show for all that time? When she had started dancing, it was only a part-time thing, some work in between putting off going to community college and moving out of her mother’s apartment. At some point, it became a full-time thing, and now, here she is five years later, feeling like she hasn’t accomplished anything. It’s not really the five years of stripping that bothers her; it’s the lack of any progress in between her working hours that bothers her. She tries to explain her frustration to Igor.
“I just feel like I’ve been wasting time, you know?” she says, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. “Do you think it’s bad that I’ve been dancing for five years?”
Igor gives her a worried look. “You are very good dancer, so if you enjoy it, then no.”
Ani studies him. She knows he’s being sincere and trying to be supportive. “I’m just scared, I guess, that I’m going to get old and ugly one day, and I won’t be able to do this, but I won’t be able to do any other kind of work either.”
Igor shakes his head. “You can do anything. Never too late.”
“Oh yeah? And what could I do?” She asks.
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You’re smart, and you are great talker. You are not afraid to put yourself out there and do hard things. I think you could do a lot of jobs if you wanted to try.”
Ani blushes and looks down at their hands. “Thank you.”
“But, also, I don’t think it’s possible for you to be ugly,” Igor says, smiling.
Ani rolls her eyes and smiles back at him. “Okay, wait another twenty years, and we’ll see about that.”
Igor hums and then lifts her hand up to press a kiss into. “Well, even when we are old, I will still love you very much, Anora,” he says, lowering their hands again to rest on his thigh.
Ani’s breathing stills and she squeezes his hand. He’s been incorporating telling her he loves her in their everyday interactions lately. In the middle of sex, right before she falls asleep, and at the end of calls when they won’t see each other until the next day. She doesn’t say anything, just kisses him or hums in response, and he smiles back as if that’s okay.
“Do you ever want to change jobs?” She asks instead.
“Pfft, what would I do?” Igor asks as if that’s the most ridiculous question ever.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to see you get arrested one day, or worse,” Ani says, swallowing and trying to will away the scenarios that keep popping up in her mind. Over the past year, there had been several times where she had to patch him up, cleaning cuts, icing bruises, and wrapping scrapes. It didn’t feel right to tell him what to do with his life, given that he never told her what to do with hers, but it was hard not to worry.
He squeezes her hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you or Babushka.”
She knows that’s the end of the conversation. It’s not like she has a solution for his situation anymore than she has one for her own. So, instead, she leans in to kiss his cheek before pinching his earlobe.
***
Her streaming schedule has become a pretty even split of solo sessions and sessions that include Igor. Except even during the solo sessions, she likes having him off-camera for company. The audience seems to love the weird parasocial voyeurism of actually having someone in the room also watching.
This stream is a “holiday special,” so she’s asked Igor to join her. He always does so with that same dutiful look on his face, and Ani wonders if that’s what he looks like at work too. He still tries to get her to keep the money she splits with him after their streams together, but she always ends up shoving it back at him all the more forcefully.
For this stream, she's wearing a red balaclava with a fluffy white pom pom on it to match her red and white lingerie set. Since they've just finished fucking, her underwear is long gone, but she's still wearing the see-through babydoll dress that Igor says she looks cute in.
Instead of ending the stream there, she makes a show of spreading her legs a little wider for the camera to see. Recently, she's invested in a decent camera, so the cum dripping out of her hole is in, like, HD now.
“Igor, baby, why don't you clean me up this time with your mouth?” She says extra sweetly.
They discussed what they'd be doing in the stream beforehand obviously. So Igor rolls up his balaclava with ease, until it's just past his nose, and it kind of reminds her of Spider-Man. Except what they're doing is much more explicit than kissing MJ in a see-through top in the rain. He lies between her legs with a practiced ease, and rubs his hands up and down her open thighs. The tip of his tongue draws a line from her perineum up to her opening to catch all the cum that has dripped out, and she exhales slowly.
He delves into licking her clean. From where she's propped herself up on her elbows, she has a clear view of him. She's mesmerized at the sight of his jaw working, opening wide then closing as his tongue scoops and laps. She can't get over the fact that she just has to ask and he'll gladly eat her out and swallow his own fluids, does it with an eagerness even.
“Wait,” she says, and he looks up at her mid-lick, freezing. Perfect. “Don't swallow. Come here,” she says, already reaching out for the back of his neck.
He rises to meet her, and she kisses him, tongue penetrating his mouth. She takes as much cum as she can, before pulling away, and leaning to the edge of the bed so the camera gets a close up of the cum on her tongue. She swallows, and then flips over to lie down on her back again. From this position, the camera has the best view of Igor eating her out. Her thighs fall open in invitation and Igor resumes his task.
She's getting close again, beyond sensitive, and he has to hold her thighs in place as she climaxes. Her hands reach out, and he meets her halfway, lacing their fingers together to rest against her stomach.
Even after she's come down, she feels a little too light-headed to move. She hears Igor shuffle a bit until he's at her laptop. He gives the camera one last wave and an awkward “bye” before ending the stream and turning everything off.
He sits down next to her, removing their masks and pushing her hair back. “You okay?”
She grabs the hand that lingers in her hair and brings it to her mouth to kiss. “I'm fucking fantastic. Thank you.”
He smiles. “You deserve everything, Anora.”
She looks up at the ceiling, brows furrowing. “What if we stop having sex one day? I mean, I love having sex with you, but what happens when we get too old and pruny for sex?”
He laughs, moving to lay down next to her. “Then we don't have sex. Then we do other stuff.”
She turns to lay on her side and face him. His arm cradles her head underneath. “Like what?”
He shrugs. “We could play chess.”
“I don't know how to play chess,” she says, but feels the beginnings of a smile. Really, she doesn't know why she's been overthinking so much lately.
“I could teach you. Hm, or we could ice skate,” he proposes.
She shakes her head and laughs. “You expect us to be able to ice skate at seventy? If that were the case, we might as well be having sex then!”
“I never learned how. I think it'd be nice,” he muses.
She squints at him. “You don't know how to ice skate?”
“I never got around to it,” he says shyly.
“Oh my god, I'm teaching you how to ice skate when we get to the cabin! There's a pond right next to it!” She says, reaching out to shake his free arm in excitement.
He agrees, and they delve into discussing their holiday plans then, tamping down Ani's intrusive thoughts for the moment.
***
Unfortunately, she has to work Christmas Eve. In fact, Igor has to work too, but they agree to spend Christmas morning at Igor's place with his grandmother. Vera left a day ago to stay with her boyfriend and his family for the holidays. Their goodbyes were brief, with a quick hug and an exchange of small gifts.
The club is mainly filled with regulars today who don't have families they feel the need to spend Christmas with. As she dances for Tony, a 57-year old divorcee who's been seeing her for four years now, they chat.
“So, you got any plans for tomorrow?” Tony asks.
Ani turns away from him to hide her face. He asks her the same question on Christmas Eve every year before inviting her to spend it with him. She actually did spend it with him two years ago, and even if it was a nice holiday bonus, she'd decided she wasn't going to do it again. It had been just a little too depressing to be in the bed he had been sharing with his wife and see evidence of empty rooms where his children had already moved out to go to college. None of them were coming back.
“Yeah, actually I do,” she responds, bending down and shaking her hips.
“Oh, already booked again?” He says.
Her movements stutter a little. Last year, she had spent Christmas with Ivan and apologized to Tony that another client had already booked her. He had joked about booking her six months in advance this year, and she had laughed it off.
“I'm spending it with my boyfriend, actually,” Ani says.
“Oh boyfriend, eh?” He asks, feigning interest. “Does he know you work here?”
“Yeah,” Ani responds curtly, pulling away from him a little. She moves to hip thrust into the ground in front of him.
“And he's okay with it?” He asks, and Ani hears the slight taunt in his voice.
She wants to say, “I let him fuck me silly almost every day, which is more than I can say for what you can do with your tiny, limp dick.” Or say, “He's the most supportive person in the world and I'm obsessed with him,” but she doesn't say either thing. Partly because she doesn't feel like fighting on Christmas Eve, but also because she spent last Christmas bragging about someone else in her life, and look where that got her. Sometimes, she imagines herself locking Igor away in some tower only she knows the location to so she gets to keep him all to herself. There’d be nobody trying to pry them apart or trying to tell him how she’s not good enough for him.
“Yup, he’s fine with it,” she says instead, smiling as she turns back to face him. “Alright, Tony, that was my last dance of the night. Hope you have a nice holiday.” She’s already leaving before he responds.
***
“Merry Christmas,” Igor says to her the next morning in bed, kissing her cheek.
“Hmm, merry Christmas, baby,” she says, pulling him in tighter.
Once they're both properly up, they join Babushka in the living room to drink coffee and smoke cigarettes while they watch Babushka open her gifts first. Igor got her a new chess set with a portable case and intricately hand-carved pieces. Ani got her a new, extra thick and fluffy bathrobe since she practically lives in one when she isn’t planning on leaving the house. Babushka thanks them for the gifts and kisses each of them on the cheek.
Ani is a little nervous once it’s her and Igor's turn to exchange gifts. With his birthday so soon, she decided to give him more practical gifts for Christmas and save the gift she's really looking forward to giving him for when they're up at the cabin. He looks happy though when he opens the box to reveal a new Carhartt puffer jacket and Timberlands. She's been watching him walk around with his bare feet practically touching the ground through the holes in his sneakers, and him telling her there's nothing wrong with his shoes. She forces him to promise her that he'll throw out the sneakers and start wearing the Tims, and he agrees with a defeated sigh.
“You and I have the same thought about gifts,” Igor says as he hands her a wrapped box.
Ani peels away the wrapping paper and can't help the squeal that comes out at the sight of the cursive letters across the box. She lifts the lid to find a pair of Christian Louboutin So Kate heels in black and lets out another squeal.
“Oh my god, I can't believe you got them!” She says, moving to wrap her arms around Igor's neck. “They're so beautiful!”
Igor laughs, patting her shoulder. “Try them on.”
She models them for him and Babushka, lifting her pajama bottoms and popping a leg every few strides.
“Thank you,” she says on repeat as she kisses around his face.
“I am happy you like them,” Igor responds, meeting her lips one final time. They clean up the scraps of wrapping paper and move into the kitchen to start preparing Christmas dinner with Babushka.
***
The last few days of the year are usually a fever dream for Ani. She used to work through the Christmas and New Year period, dividing her time between the club and making house calls. It was usually a week that left her recovering well into the second week of the new year.
Instead, she’s taken the days leading up to new year’s eve off from work this year, so she spends her days catching up on seriously neglected housework or trying out random pastimes. She gives audiobooks a try while she cleans, and finishes two murder mystery thrillers. She finally catches up on mending and adding rhinestones to some of her work gear while she watches her favorite Audrey Hepburn films. She tries crocheting for ten minutes before giving up and trying to cook dinner instead. All in all, it's nice, and probably the first time she would use the word peaceful to describe her life.
Ani works on new year’s eve though, and as expected, the club is filled with people looking to ring in the new year with some paid company. She wishes she was counting down with Igor, but instead, she’s standing next to Lulu in the crowd that has gathered around the club’s largest television to watch the Time Square countdown. Igor said he'd tried to leave work early to meet her at the club though.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The crowd around her shouts. Ani looks down at her phone as she types out a text message to Igor.
Happy new year, baby. *kissing face emoji* She smiles to herself as she adds a red heart at the end of the message.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
She’s still looking down at her phone, waiting for Igor’s reply, when a tap on the shoulder interrupts her. She turns around to see who it is, but it’s hard to make out with the only lights in the club being the strobes.
“Ani,” the person calls out.
She squints.
“Four! Three! Two!”
The person takes another step closer.
“One!”
“Happy new year, Ani,” Ivan says, smiling at her like the first time they met.
Ani freezes and something drops in the pit of her stomach. The crowd explodes around her in cheers, and she feels Lulu shaking her shoulder in excitement. It’s enough to snap her out of her shock.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” She yells over the celebration. She’s not surprised that he looks exactly the same, that a year of apparently finally working hasn’t changed him.
“I am in New York for the holidays. I wanted to see you,” Ivan says, attempting to take another step towards her. Ani steps back and puts an arm out.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she says. Next to her, Lulu finally notices what’s going on and puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her further back.
“What the fuck?” Lulu utters.
Ivan looks surprised as if he’s not sure why she’s reacting this way, and Ani almost scoffs at how little his reaction surprises her. They only knew each other for a month, and she was left at rock bottom after it, but it was just another month for him.
“Look, I don’t want to fucking see you, so why don’t you leave right now, before I have you fucking thrown out on your ass,” Ani says, taking a step toward him and pointing toward the door.
“Ani, can’t we just talk?” Ivan says.
“There's nothing to fucking talk about,” Ani says before taking hold of Lulu's hand and walking away. They make it to the dressing room, which is thankfully empty.
“Holy shit, Ani, that was Ivan,” Lulu says as Ani is already gathering her things.
“Yeah, I know, but I don't know why he's here or what he wants, so I'm leaving before he gets a chance to fuck my life over again,” Ani says, taking a moment to check her phone and see that Igor replied to her text message.
“Happy new year, my love.” The message is enough to make her pause. She considers staying, hiding in the dressing room until Igor gets here, but she doesn't doubt that sooner or later Jimmy will come in to force her to get back out there or Ivan will find her. So, she has to leave now.
Lulu follows close behind her as Ani weaves through the crowd toward the exit. Lulu gives her one last hug and tells her to text her when she gets home before she steps out the door. Ani is about to start jogging when she notices Igor's car pull up. Relief floods her system and she feels her muscles unclench a little.
He's smiling as he gets out of the car and she makes a dash toward him.
“Ani, wait!” Ivan's voice calls out from behind her. She freezes again mid-step and watches the expression morph on Igor’s face. It morphs from recognition to surprise to something cold that terrifies her a little. She turns around to face Ivan, who’s caught up with her, and without hesitation, she slaps him hard across the face. He cries like a bitch and looks at her with a stunned expression.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, and I don’t fucking care. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll fucking call your mom myself so she can drag your pussy-ass back to Russia again, understood?” She says, alarmed by the calm in her own voice.
They both stare at each other for an eternity, with Ivan clutching at his rapidly reddening cheek, before he finally opens his mouth, “You are different, Ani.”
“Yeah, no fucking shit I’m different. That’s what happens when you fuck someone over,” Ani says, crossing her arms in front of her.
Ivan glances somewhere over her shoulder before thinning his lips. “Toros let it slip that you were dating that fucking gopnik now, and I just couldn’t believe it. I guess I just wanted to see it for myself. You sure moved on fast. ”
Ani scoffs at the accusation. “You wanted me to mourn being free of your tiny dick and having to watch you play Call of Duty like a fucking loser? Go fuck yourself, motherfucker, and tell your mother I’m sorry that you’re still fucking pathetic.” She finally turns around and makes the last few steps toward the car. She’s surprised to see Igor stand next to the open passenger door, waiting for her to get in. His gaze is trained on Ivan though, even as Ani slips into the car and closes the door.
Through the window, she watches Igor go up to Ivan. They exchange a few words, and a flash of fear crosses Ivan’s face as Igor walks back to the car. He silently gets back into the driver’s seat and starts the car. As they pull away from the curb, Ani watches Ivan’s dumbstruck figure, still frozen on the sidewalk, become increasingly small in the side mirror.
“Are you okay?” Igor says, reaching for her hand. She laces their fingers together, and grips it tightly, finding the pressure comforting.
“I’m fine,” she says, finally turning to look at him. His expression is a mix of worry and something she can’t quite describe. “What did you say to him?”
He doesn’t say anything for a second too long, biting his lip, before meeting her eyes at the next red light. “I told him I’d fucking kill him if he came back.”
Ani’s breath stills. She’s never really been scared of Igor, despite every subtle hint or allusion to the violence in his jobs. She’s not really scared of him now, either, but she knows he’s telling the truth. There’s some fucked up part of her that’s actually pleased, but a larger part of her just feels ashamed at herself, at having to see Ivan again, and at re-living one of the lowest points in her life.
Igor starts driving again, and they don’t say anything for the rest of the drive.
***
In bed that night, she holds on tight to Igor. He’s resting his head against her chest and his arms wrap around her waist. The pressure of his weight against her makes her feel safe.
“I’m sorry you had to see that today,” she says into the silence.
He lifts his head and meets her eyes. “I’m not. I don’t think he’s going to come back.”
“Good.” She sighs as he rubs circles into her side with his thumbs. “Seeing him today, I don’t know what I was even thinking in the first place.”
Igor shakes his head. “We all make mistakes, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed, Anora.”
“Shouldn’t I?” Anora asks bitterly, twisting her mouth.
“Life is funny,” Igor muses, tilting his head.
“Oh yeah, real fucking funny,” she responds, a little annoyed at his blasé attitude.
“I mean, it was a bad situation, but I am grateful it meant I got to meet you,” he says, moving to kiss her stomach.
She feels herself flushing and sits up. Igor moves back and watches as she takes her shirt off. She pulls him in close for a proper kiss, before pulling away to say, “Yeah, me too.”
***
Ivan’s visit has the result of putting Ani on edge for the next two weeks. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder while she works, and she can’t seem to escape thinking about crazy hypotheticals where she and Igor are both kidnapped and murdered. She doesn’t say anything to Igor about it, but she’s sure he can tell. He’s been making an effort to be at the club even earlier than he usually is, and trying to cheer her up with flowers or taking her out to see movies. She doesn’t say anything even though she feels bad that she’s probably keeping him from work.
She’s grateful when the weekend finally arrives that they leave for the cabin. Babushka is going to stay with her best old bitty friend who lives in the apartments across the street. Her friend’s daughter comes by on the weekend to check on her, so they'll feel a little less worried about leaving her.
“Get out already! Go be young and have fun! ” Babushka says with a shooing motion as she settles on the couch with Edna. Ani and Igor do one last check on her packed bags before saying their goodbyes.
As they get into the car, Igor smiles expectantly at Ani. She raises a brow at him as she buckles in. “What?” She asks.
“I get to pick music?” Igor asks.
Ani rolls her eyes and smiles. “Oh alright, why not, but the stereo's all mine when we trade off!”
As they drive farther and farther from the city, Ani feels weeks of tension leave her body. The increasing distance from the club makes it easier to convince herself that there’s nothing to worry about after all. She turns to look at Igor, who’s softly singing along to the Russian song on the radio, and smiles. There’s nothing more she wants to do now than focus entirely on Igor and herself for the rest of the weekend.
***
“Yes, that’s it! Open, close, open,” Ani says. She’s skating backwards and holding both Igor’s hands as she guides him around the frozen pond on ice skates.
“Maybe we take a break now?” Igor says, moving each skate at a snail’s pace. Ani has been grinning ear to ear since the moment they got on the ice as Igor’s expression turned cartoonishly nervous.
“Oh come on, we’ve only been at this for like an hour, and you’ve made so much progress!” Ani says, trying to pull him along a little faster.
Igor sucks in a breath at the increased speed, trying to pull away from Ani’s hold. “I think this is enough.”
“Alright, fine,” Ani says with a sigh. She’s grateful he even agreed to try ice skating. They had stopped at a gas station about halfway to the cabin to switch off, and he had laughed for about thirty minutes straight at how she hit the curb twice while pulling out of the gas station. It feels like cosmic retribution that she’s now witnessing him struggle to ice skate.
She slowly guides him towards the edge of the pond, but Igor’s skate catches on a hidden divet in the ice and he lets go of her immediately to flail and fall backwards like a Looney Tunes character. He hits the ice with a thud as Ani stops herself just before crashing into him, having reflexively moved forward to try and catch him.
“Oh my god, baby, are you okay?” Ani says, moving to bend down a little. Igor is sprawled ass flat on the ice and mutters a curse in Russian. Ani reaches out both her arms in an offer to pull him up. He moves to grab her arms. Before she can even react, she’s yelping as she gets yanked down and makes an impact against his body. Igor is laughing loudly as she recovers from the shock.
“Fuck you, you cunt,” she says, smiling as she shoves at him. He moves out of her reach easily but rebounds quickly to pull her face into his hands. She continues to grumble but lets him kiss her face all over.
“Thank you for teaching me. I might be amenable to giving ice skating another try again in about a decade's time, as long as you still let me hold onto you,” Igor comments.
Ani feels her annoyance evaporate entirely and she smiles at him. “Of course you can always hold onto me.”
Eventually, they manage to get off the ice and make their way back to the cabin as the sun begins to set on the horizon.
***
After dinner that night, Ani guides Igor to sit down on the couch.
“Okay, present time,” Ani says, leaving Igor for a moment to go grab her gift from the bedroom.
“You’ve already spent so much for this weekend, Anora. You work so hard, you should save your money to spend on yourself,” Igor says when she gets back. He smiles bashfully at her as she sits across his lap.
Ani scoffs. “Oh yeah, I work real hard letting you fuck me on camera,” she says, pausing to kiss him before pulling away.
“That’s not what I mean,” Igor says sheepishly, looking down.
“I know what you mean, and thanks,” Ani says as she lifts his chin to have him meet her gaze. “But the way I want to spend my money is to spend it on you, so just open your present already.” She shoves the small gift wrapped box toward him, and he takes it with an exasperated, “Alright, alright.”
Ani holds her breath as she watches Igor slowly peel back the paper to reveal the signature blue of the Tiffany box. Igor lifts the lid to reveal the silver chain necklace ending in an engraved heart tag.
“I hope you don’t think it’s too pansy or something, but I could have the tag removed if you prefer,” Ani adds nervously.
Igor shakes his head, still studying the necklace. “It’s beautiful.”
“Take a look at the back,” Ani says, hopeful.
Igor turns the tag to reveal the little engraving she had done of their initials: I.S. A.M.
Ani swallows. “You know, you were right a couple of weeks ago when we were talking about what happened on your last birthday.”
Igor looks up at her with furrowed brows and she continues, “I wish we could have met some other way, but I wouldn’t take any of it back if it meant losing the year I’ve gotten to have with you.” Ani looks away, feeling her face heat up all over as she struggles to get her words out.
Igor’s hand touches her cheek, gently turning her to look at him again. The look he gives her is undeniable adoration now as he tells her, “It’s perfect, my love. I’ll wear it always.”
They kiss until Ani loses track of the minutes that go by, and when they pull apart, Ani offers to put it on him. “Next time, I’ll get you a matching one,” Igor says shyly as she admires the necklace on him.
Ani smiles brightly and nods. “I’d love that. Happy birthday, Igor.”