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Kyler closed his helmet visor.

He stared forward, rocking back and forth. Slow, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the maw.

On the count of three: one ... two ... three!

The otter launched off the block.

He crossed the timing line, triggering the digital clock.

Hunched over, one paw on the sled, Kyler's webbed, brown-furred foot-paws slapped on the ice as he sprinted as fast as he could toward the drop off.

Right before he reached it, he dove forward, leaving the ground entirely but grabbing hold of his sled. With an 'oomph,' the otter landed atop it, belly down, and quickly tucked his body into an ultra-streamlined form. All without jarring the sled from its path. The whole transition from running upright to horizonal had barely taken a second.

The Winter Olympian, representing the United States, was wearing a fur-tight spandex uniform, red, white, and blue, which covered everything but his paws, foot-paws, and tail. He angled his long, thick rudder down as low as he could, momentum carrying him over the edge and down the long, winding chute.

After a single corner, he was already gaining speed.

Thirty miles an hour.

Forty.

Fifty!

He knew he'd max out at eighty by the end of this.

Traveling faster than a car on the highway, only with nothing between him and the 'road.' And no seatbelt.

Through his helmet, chin inches from the ice, he watched, unblinking, as he tore through the cold, wintry air, using subtle shifts of his body weight against the sled to steer. Shoulder down, shoulder up. Tail left, tail right.

Easy, easy ...

That's it.

With each turn, his adrenaline spiked, the sled riding higher up the walls, coming down through the corners even faster.

No brakes.

No turning back.

No getting off.

He was committed.

Speed was his friend.

Chase it!

The thrill was undeniable, but danger lurked. And, behind it, fear. There was no getting around it. It just wasn't natural to put yourself at this much risk. His survival instinct was screaming at him! But if one could channel that nervousness, one could somehow transcend it and reach an almost Zen-like state.

You could be one with the sled.

Ziiiiip!

Swish!

Wooooosh!

The going was furious, now.

From top to bottom, the run should only last a minute. Kyler knew he had to be nearing the end.

Sure enough, he zipped through the last corner.

A little too fast.

At too loose an angle.

The sled went high.

His body didn't.

Separated from his ride, the otter heard bells as he crossed the finish line. Actual bells? Or was he concussed? His helmet skidded across the ice, banging against it a few times, body tumbling, pinwheeling. The track surface flattened out, scrubbing some of his speed. He spread his arms and legs, ending his slipstream to further kill momentum.

Finally, he came to a stop, rolling onto his back. The wind knocked out of him, heart loudly hammering in his ears, he muttered, "God ... dammit."

He wasn't sore now, but he would be tomorrow. He knew this from experience.

I was thinking too much. About where I was on the track, how much time was left. Can't be 'one with the sled' if I'm stuck in my own head.

Rookie mistake!

Yes, it was his first time on this specific course, and his first time at any Olympics, but--

Cameras flashed as he sat up, shifting to his shins and knees. Taking off his helmet, he tucked it under an arm as he ventured to stand. He wobbled for just a second. Onlookers murmured. He held up a paw to indicate 'I'm fine!'

Some track workers came to his aid, steadying him.

Again, Kyler insisted he was okay.

A reporter, a cute lop-eared bunny with a Scandinavian accent (Norwegian? Swedish? Kyler couldn't tell), hopped forward to interview him for international television. She had big, bare foot-paws, and her thick, soft pelt was patterned in random patches of warm caramel and off-white cream.

"Kyler, based on your time at worlds, you're a medal contender in this event. I know this is only a practice run, but what is going through your mind right now after taking a spill like that?"

"Where's my sled?" the otter replied gruffly. It had cost him ten grand. He was very protective of it.

As if on cue, a course worker approached with it, handing it over to the otter.

Kyler sighed with relief and nodded his thanks.

"Kyler?" the reporter asked, looking at him with brilliant blue eyes.

"My mind?" he echoed, looking at the rabbit, and then to the TV camera. His own eyes were a rich seaweed green. Calming himself down, he said, "Well. When you take to the ice, you can't dwell on things. You need tunnel-vision. Quite literally, since you're effectively going down a tunnel. If your mind wanders even a bit? Your body follows, and ... " He pantomimed his crash with his paw. "You saw what happened."

He took a few breaths, shaking his head with frustration. "As I approached the finish, I started thinking about my time, about this, that... I dunno." He shrugged. "Got out of my zone."

"Is this going to be a problem for you going forward?" the rabbit asked, moving the microphone going back and forth between her muzzle and his.

"Hasn't been in the past. Shouldn't be in the future!" Setting his sled down, the otter panted glanced at the scoring chart. "I do need to go faster, though. A time like that won't cut it in the finals! Even if I _hadn't_lost it. But, uh, yeah ... this run was mainly to familiarize myself with the track, and I'm intimately familiar with it now. That's the bright side." He smiled, putting both himself and the audience at ease. "I'll do better next run." He gave a thumbs-up at the camera.

"Did you sustain any injuries?"

"I don't think so. Nothing feels broken or strained. Not seeing any stars. I'm sure the medics will clear me."

The lop gave a prim nod, her limp ears dangling. "Kyler, this is going to be a very competitive field. Do you feel any pressure? Is that perhaps what led to your 'distraction' during the run?"

"Pressure? I could lie and say no, but ... " He drew a breath. "I'm on the absolute limit out there. This isn't the worlds. I don't get another chance next year. It's the Winter Games. Every four years. A lot can happen in life, and you never know if you'll be back. Might not get another shot, you know? The pressure to make the most of this? Yeah. I feel it." The otter gave her a casual, rugged look and ended with, "But I'm more afraid of losing than getting hurt, so bring it on."

The rabbit appeared flustered by his masculine bravado. The tone of his voice, the look on his face? So driven and confident? She skipped a beat before saying, "Well, uh ... thank you. We wish you luck!"

"Aaaaand ... we're off!" the cameraman, a badger, said. The red recording light faded out and he began fiddling with the equipment.

The rabbit reporter, meanwhile, politely nodded to Kyler and wandered further up the track, closer to the finish line. She clasped her paws together. There were more practice runs to be had, and she strained to get a better look.

The otter watched her go.

That bobtail, like a flame flickering above her shapely ass. And something about rabbit legs. They just ... went down forever, didn't they? _Huff._He shuffled after her, sled in tow, and asked, "Need anything else from me, Miss?"

The lop looked at him.

"You know how you're coming in from commercial break, you have those talking head bumpers? Hype pieces. I can do a hype piece! Probably not anything super emotional or inspirational, but ... " He trailed off, smiling at her. "I make up for that with natural charm."

"No doubt." Her eyes quickly darted down the otter's muscular figure. "But we have all the material we need," she insisted.

Kyler caught the look. He was wearing a tight, stretchy uniform, and well ... it didn't leave a lot to the imagination in certain places! She was leaving room, though.

I have her attention.

I think she might like me?

How could he not take the opening to find out for sure?

The otter sidled up beside the lop, close enough that they could whisper. She was wearing a parka. Combined with her pelt, she looked quite cozy. His own pelt was dense and thick enough that he hardly felt the cold, even wearing such a thin outfit.

Kyler didn't say anything for a moment. Just stood there, holding his sled against his hip, watching the track. Another run was about to start.

"I've ... I've never interviewed someone after a crash before," the rabbit stammered, apparently unable to endure the silent tension. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm good, yeah," was Kyler's casual reply.

"You haven't seen the medics yet ... "

"I will." He held up a 'paw of honor.' "I promise."

The bells sounded out, and the timer started. Someone new had crossed the timing line atop the hill. The sound of the sled scrubbing against the ice could already be heard even down here.

"First time covering the sport?" Kyler asked, breath billowing around him. His exhales turned to fog, collecting on his whiskers in sparkly, icy flakes. It was the kind of brisk, biting weather that made you feel alive.

"I didn't even know the difference between luge and skeleton before I got this assignment. Still barely do."

"Hah! Well, that's easy: skeleton's on your belly, eyes on the ice ... luge is on your back, facing up." He patted his sled. "Also, different designs."

"So I'm gathering."

A sled whooshed past them.

Swooosh!

Zip!

"And ... so, um, why did you get into skeleton instead of luge, then?" the lop asked. "Isn't luge faster?"

"Marginally." The otter, giving the rabbit a look-over, smoothly murmured, "But luge never did it for me. I like eye contact when I'm riding the ice." He paused and added, "More intimate that way. Better feel, you know? More control over what I'm touching."

The lop, once more, was flustered by his words. She faltered. The bells sounded once more and yet another run started. They were happening at a good clip, now. The latest time flashed up on the screens.

"Fastest all day," she finally remarked.

"Yup," was the otter's response, not taking his eyes off her.

She was damn cute.

There were plenty of snow rabbits at the Games, most of them skiers, and, yeah, they were hot, but ... hot wasn't cute.

Cute made him feel all tingly inside.

The lop's eyes, deep, ocean blue, darted to his and then quickly away when she saw him watching.

Kyler knew he should clamp down on the horny. He should be scoping out the competition or getting checked out in the med tent so he could get back to the hilltop and do, you know, more runs. He clearly needed practice, and there was only so much time allotted for it.

But she was taking him out of his 'zone,' and he felt helpless. His thoughts wandered as he leaned in and whispered into one of her glorious ears, "How 'bout another interview? Later?"

"What do you--"

"Off the record, of course." Kyler chose this moment to strategically touch her, fingers combing through her tail-fluff.

The rabbit's knees trembled. "Oh ... I see."

"Good."

Her breasts rose and fell visibly, her breathing labored.

The otter whispered his room number into her ear. And a time: 1900 hours, or 7 o'clock. He could feel the heat of her blush, even though her fur hid any visual signs. Pulling back, he grabbed his sled, seeing someone waving and calling their way. "That your camera guy? Think you gotta talk to another sledder."

"Oh, gosh!" The lop frantically hopped off without saying goodbye.

The otter rubbed at his whiskers.

Hmm.

She gonna show up or not?

She hadn't given him a real answer.

I don't need more distractions! That's what caused me to crash in the first place.

Clear head.

Zen, remember?

He nodded to himself.

Zen.

Kyler, trying to shake it off, finally walked to the medical tent.

"About time, Mister!" a nurse scolded, motioning for him to sit on an examination table. A stocky beaver, she took his blood pressure with a puzzled frown. "Your pulse shouldn't still be this high! Your run ended ten minutes ago. Should've gone down. Did you sprint over here?"

"Nope."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing yet," the otter answered with a smile, laying on his back, folding his arms behind his head. "But it's early ... "

"Riiigght." The nurse gave him a funny look, raising her paddle tail and clicking her tongue against her huge front teeth. "Irene!" she yelled, calling for one of her peers. She jabbed a finger against Kyler's chest. "We're giving you a concussion test."

The door was closed, locked.

Lights off.

The air warm and getting warmer by the second.

As fun as it was to plunge through icy tunnels, it was _more_fun to dive into the hot, wet ones.

"Ah ... ahh ... "

"Ohh!"

Kyler's naked, furry rump rose and fell in the bedroom air, strong rudder tail swerving and curling with pleasure as he enthusiastically plowed the naked bunny. Riding her like he did his sled. Closely. On top, belly down.

"Ah, ahhhh!" she cried, shaking, uncontrollably clenching around him. Limbs and pussy.

"Uhhnff," Kyler grunted, thrusting through her orgasm. He heard it. Oh, yes. Her pitches. Higher, louder. He could feel it, too. Her sex in spasms, wet and dribbling. Her paws curling in his pelt, desperately grabbing, groping his ass, trying to pull him closer, deeper.

That last move was what toppled him.

"Ohh, yes ... yessssss ... "

The otter buried himself in her. He came, giving everything, gasping, seeing stars.

Maybe I'm concussed after all.

The nurses had cleared him for competition! They didn't say anything about sex, but he, uh ... he hadn't exactly asked ...

"Mmm ... mm," Kyler moaned, his cock giving residual, sensitive twitches, even though she'd already milked him for most of his worth.

The rabbit panted, hugging to him with arms and legs, nose against his neck.

Kyler closed his eyes and rubbed her back as the sensations tapered off. "Hell." He was finally breathing normally. "That was medal-worthy ... "

"T-that ... I ... mm-hmm." The lop's accented voice muffled into the otter's pelt.

She probably said that to every athlete in the Village. 'You're the greatest!' 'That blew my mind!' He doubted this was her 'first time' at the Games.

It certainly wasn't his.

She was, what, the third? No, fourth.

He'd been here two weeks with a week still to go.

The fittest, healthiest people in the entire world, young, full of drive and energy, in close confines and under intense pressure for three weeks?

Nature was going to take its course.

It was going to have its way.

So, no surprise that more than steam was blown in the Olympic Village.

As if sensing his thought, she whispered, "I mean it ... "

"Thank you." Regardless of whether she did or not, it felt good to hear. He was happy, and he nuzzled her cheek affectionately.

The rabbit's paws went between them, feeling his muscular chest. "You're welcome."

Kyler gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

They cuddled for a minute longer before Kyler reached beside the bed. He flicked on the bedside lamp, their bodies revealed in fuller detail, cast in a golden, incandescent glow. The sheets were all over. The comforter had found its way onto a chair.

Finally, he pulled out of her, rolling off her body and sitting up. His eyes scanned the floor. Their clothes were everywhere. Chuckling, he grabbed a remote and turned on the TV. Closed circuit footage of the various events going on. Right now, they were showing curling. The otter muted the sound and laid back down.

As the lop watched the coverage, she drew a sheet up to her breasts, clearly self-conscious. "You, uh ... don't you have a roommate?"

"A figure skater. Yeah. He practices late. He's a _fancy_rat." Kyler looked at the doe's limp ears. He wanted to kiss them, nibble them, stroke them. "Can I ... touch your ears?"

"Why would you want to?" she asked shyly.

"I like them."

"Why?" she asked again.

"Do I need a reason?"

"Most people ... most people think lop ears aren't as attractive as tall ears."

He nuzzled her shoulder, kissing his way to her neck. "Where'd you get that silly idea?"

"It's what ... it's ... " She blushed. "I've been told before."

"I'm sorry." He nuzzled her cheek. "They don't know what they're talking about."

"Maybe ... "

"No maybes." He kissed her lips again, this time longer.

She sighed through the nose, moaning a little.

"You don't need to hide these," the otter whispered against her chin, gently pulling the sheet away from her body, fully exposing her breasts again. A paw went to one, tenderly groping it. "They're beautiful. I know breasts, and these ... mm, these are top-tier." He arched his body, bending his head. He kissed her nipple before giving a little lick. A little suckle.

"Ah ... ah ... "

"You like that?"

"Yeah ... "

Kyler did it some more, switching sides.

Cradling the back of the otter's head, the lop said, "They ... they think it's a conflict of interest, right? My bosses. They warned us not to fraternize with the athletes ... "

"I certainly won't tell them," Kyler cooed, sliding back up her body. "Bunny." He touched his nose and whiskers to hers. "You wanted to be here, right?"

"Yes."

"You enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"It ... a lot," the rabbit stammered, closing her eyes and hugging his strong, muscular frame.

"Then relax." Kyler hugged back. "Hey, know what might help?"

"Mm?"

"A hot shower."

Five minutes later, they were at it again.

In the bathroom.

Standing beneath the running water, dripping wet, the air thick with cloudy vapor.

The lop's waterlogged, caramel-cream back was pressed against the wall, sliding up and down, legs completely off the floor and secured around the male's chocolate-colored hips. She whimpered pitifully, breasts moving with each sharp thrust.

They didn't last as long this time, but Kyler didn't care.

It felt good.

_She_felt good.

Once again, she peaked first, her orgasm triggering his.

Her arms hugged him tightly around the neck, as if afraid she might fall away from him.

Kyler's eyes rolled back. "Guhh ... uh!"

The rabbit panted on his wet cheek.

He remained inside her, slumping forward a bit. "I don't even know your name," Kyler realized, whispering, kissing her chin. "I should've asked ... I'm sorry ... "

"Does it matter?" was her evasive reply. "We'll ... we'll never see each other again when the Games ... when it's over, I mean," she mumbled. "Best not get too ... y'know."

The otter didn't want to lie to her and say they definitely _would_see each other again. Odds were good they wouldn't.

He'd assumed she'd been 'active' at these Games, just like everyone else, but ... the way she was reacting? It wasn't at all how someone accustomed to hooking up like this would behave. I'm her first athlete. She's probably afraid she made a mistake, that she did something impulsive.

The otter whispered very gently, "You'll be covering the sled track? All week?"

She nodded.

"Maybe you'll interview me after my gold medal run." Noses touched again.

"Gold?"

"Mm-hmm. When I win it, I'll let you try it on."

"Not silver or bronze? Aren't you afraid of getting your hopes up?"

"I'm a daredevil athlete! Risk is my business," he replied, looking into her eyes.

"I wish it was part of mine ... " The rabbit got that melty look again, clearly turned on by confidence and swagger. "This is the riskiest thing I've done since I got here."

"You think I'm a risk?" the otter asked, chuckling with amusement.

"You run on testosterone and adrenaline. It's ... that's such a potent combination. It can lead to anything," she breathed. "Good and bad."

She's not wrong ...

Why couldn't he have gotten the hots for another athlete? Like the other women he'd slept with since arriving in Beijing? They were more on his level. This cute bunny ... she was a civilian. Fragile, down to earth. It was bringing out emotions in him at a time when he needed to be ruthlessly unemotional to compete.

The rabbit's fingers curled in his back-fur.

Kyler asked, "What are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"I know, but ... what are you feeling?"

The rabbit closed her eyes, buckteeth gnawing on her lower lip. "Insufficient."

Kyler blinked. "Why?"

She opened her eyes again. "I don't know ... "

"You shouldn't feel that way."

"I'm not a speed skater or ... a snowboarder. I'm no match for you."

"I think you should let me be the judge of what I like. Mm?" He leaned his forehead to hers. "Do you think I was faking those moans?"

"No ... "

"Nothing wrong with being a reporter. Hell, a lot of ex-athletes get into TV when they age out of competition. I've thought about it myself." He kissed her lips again. The water was still running and had been for so long that it was lukewarm instead of hot. This caused the steam to stop. "Do you enjoy that?"

"The kiss?"

"I was gonna say the job, but how 'bout both?"

The lop blushed deeply, desperate to change the subject. "You're being so nice to me ... this ... this has been really nice."

"You deserve it." The otter pulled out of her (with a full body shiver) and gently held her while she put her legs down and found her footing. He detached the shower head from the wall fixture and aimed it at their loins. When they were clean, he turned off the shower and pulled the curtain aside, gesturing for her to get out first.

He toweled her off. Thoroughly. Admiring every part of her body.

That bobtailed ass.

"What about you?" she asked, as he put up the towel without drying himself.

"My pelt is water-resistant. Heh. I'm self-drying. See?" He turned around in a slow circle, a sly way of returning the favor and letting her see every part of him.

The lop looked.

"Feel it. Go on ... "

She reached out to touch his fur. It was, indeed, already dry, and he hadn't so much as brushed against the towel. "Wow." She smiled. "Are you, um ... a sea otter or river otter? Is that okay to ask? I don't ... I don't know to tell."

"Sure, it's okay. It's a funny story! I'm half-and-half, actually. My dad's a sea otter. Mother's a river otter."

"That's possible?"

"Mmhmm."

"Um ... " The rabbit looked like she wanted to ask about this 'story,' but instead said, "I should get going ... get my clothes on, first, I mean, and ... " She looked down, aside, then back to him, and turned and went back to the bedroom. She got dressed and whispered, "Thank you so much ... "

"Like I said: my pleasure," Kyler whispered back, still naked. He unlocked the bedroom door and walked her to the main doorway in the living room.

Her eyes swam through his pelt as they went, and she exhaled deeply. "You told me, in the interview ... that you have to be focused to win?"

"That's right."

"I hope I won't contribute to another crash."

"You won't. And, if the possibility existed, it's well worth the risk," he promised.

The lop could've swooned, blushing profusely. She pecked a kiss on his cheek and quickly hopped down the hall and out of sight.

Kyler closed the door and sighed.

Heavily.

Glancing at the clock, his eyes boggled.

Gosh, that flew by.

Faster than a skeleton run.

His life was built on going fast, so fast that everything blurred. Sometimes, he wished he could slow it all down.

Alone in his apartment, the otter flopped into bed, putting on some form-fitting boxer-briefs in case he fell asleep before his roomie came back. He winced. His muscles were just starting to feel the stiffness brought on from his wipeout earlier today. It wasn't terrible. Just enough to make him a little uncomfortable, enough to remind him that he'd yet to make a podium-worthy run on that track.

Need to focus.

And yet he couldn't ...

She'd been so nice.

So sweet.

Was she even real? Someone like that?

Everything about her made him want to wrap her up and protect her.

I really should've asked her to stay.

He blew out a breath. "I know ... "

I have_to see her again._

His rudder tail curled.

Her?

Or her pussy?

"Stop it," he scolded himself, repeating like a mantra, "Focus ... focus ... "

He had an Olympic level competition in a little over thirty-six hours! He'd trained for this for years.

_Eye on the prize. _

He started doing stretches, pulling his legs up toward his abdomen. Pull. Ten seconds. Release.

I want to know her name ...

She was a sports reporter, right? He'd be able to find clips of her interviews online. Would be an easy search!

Getting out his phone, the otter tapped and typed, searching until he came across her.

Astrid.

Aw.

He smiled.

That's so pretty.

As he resumed his stretches and second-guessed even more decisions, Kyler un-muted the curling match. It was still going on? Kind of therapeutic. You know, it could almost ... put one ... right to ...

Sleep.

The next day.

Early morning.

Kyler got dressed in his 'Team USA' rah-rah (as he called it) outfit and left his apartment, taking a sky bridge to the food pavilion.

He passed on a sushi place but was still in the mood for fish and something. He found an establishment offering 'smoked salmon and dill waffles,' along with scrambled eggs. He loaded his tray and then stopped by the hot cocoa machine.

Not hot chocolate, no.

Oh, no.

Cocoa.

Rich and fancy and dark.

The otter got himself a mug and spooned a heap of marshmallows into it. They bobbed and floated, already melting, steam coming off the hot, sweet liquid.

Finally, he looked for a place to sit.

Preferably somewhere by a window. He liked to watch what was going on out in the plaza, and--

Hold on.

Over there! Tucked away at a table in the corner.

He beelined in that direction.

"Fancy seeing you!" Kyler said excitedly, bowing to the very familiar lop. "Miss Astrid, I presume?"

"You looked it up." Astrid cradled a hot cup of coffee in both her paws, taking a dainty sip.

"Hope you don't hold that against me. May I?" he asked, gesturing at her table with his rudder.

"Um, sure ... "

"Thanks." The otter put his tray down and sat opposite her. She was wearing a windbreaker jacket with a flag over the heart. A red rectangle with an offset blue and white cross intersecting the middle. "Norway?" he asked, pointing a finger.

The lop smiled warmly. "Yeah ... "

"Surprised?"

"Well, heh ... "

"Not all Americans are uneducated." He winked. "Just most of us."

"I took you for a bright one right away," the rabbit said warmly in her accented English. She looked down at her breakfast salad, poking at it with a fork. "I'm from Larvik, which is ... well, it doesn't matter, I guess."

"World sledding championships are in Norway next winter," Kyler mentioned, mouth a bit full. The dill waffles with strawberry syrup were a winner.

"Are they?" she asked. Her brow raised.

"Mm-hmm!" The otter cut into his fish next, taking a bite. Perfectly seasoned. "I plan on qualifying! Never been to Norway."

"It's a beautiful place," Astrid assured.

"I bet. Maybe you can give me a tour when I'm there?"

Astrid nibbled on her salad and sipped her coffee before giving her delayed response. "That's ... that's planning quite a ways ahead."

"And you don't like to get your hopes up," Kyler noted.

"It ... it hasn't always done me well in the past." She rubbed her neck, as if trying to soothe away a painful memory. "I've learned to be realistic."

"Next time could be different."

"Or it couldn't."

The otter stirred his cocoa, sucking on a spoonful of melty marshmallows. "Mmm ... " He smacked his lips and looked her in the eyes. "In my career ... our careers. In sports. You have to believe anything is possible. You have to believe you can overcome any obstacle or odds, that miracles_can happen. It's what makes it so thrilling, right? You just never know! You might _think you do, and sometimes you're proven correct, but then when you least expect it ... a wild result. A crazy finish. An otherworldly performance. Something inspiring."

Astrid nodded. "It is very appealing."

Kyler put his utensils down, paws on the table, and leaned forward. "Why are you so shy? If you don't mind me masking?"

"I just ... I just am?" She shrugged. "It's my nature."

"I've met other rabbits. They weren't shy."

"Were they lops?"

"Well ... no ... "

"We tend to be more reserved. I can't quantify it. It's just how I am."

"But you're not shy on camera," Kyler said. "You were pretty confident when you interviewed me."

"I think I have a different persona when the lights come on? It's almost like a performance, like acting. I'm not having to socialize on camera, I'm just channeling information."

"I get it," Kyler assured. "Sports is sort of an entertainment business these days. Audiences are bigger than ever, and they fuel the funding. We're all performers, now, to a degree. Have to be."

"Yes," Astrid said simply, digging into her salad again. It was sprinkled with vegetables and nuts. Maybe some egg whites? She caught him staring and gave a little grin. "Hungry for some?"

"Heh, no, I'm an omnivore. I could have salad, but I don't need to."

"Well, I'm a vegetarian. We don't seem to have much in common!" she teased.

"I can think of a few things ... " He gave her a 'bedroom eyes' look.

Astrid self-consciously dipped her chin, which caused her ears to get closer to her face, which made her brush them back past her cheeks with her paws. It was such an adorable gesture.

Kyler smiled.

"How, uh ... how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Me? I've no regrets," he murred quietly.

"No, no! I, uh ... I meant ... "

"Oh!" Kyler took a swig of cocoa. "Sorry. The accident. Right!" He let out a deep breath. "I'm ... well, I'm sore. To put it mildly. Especially when I woke up, my back and neck were killing me." He groaned. "I took some approved pain killers, did some stretching. Now that I'm moving around, it feels ... okay? A lot better than before. After I eat, though, I'm gonna get a massage in the training facility, probably soak in the hot tub."

"Will you make any more runs today?"

"The competition starts tomorrow, so I better! Yeah. I'll head over to the facility after lunch."

"I'm glad to hear it. I really ... um, I ... I want you to do well."

"Thanks."

They made eye contact, blues to greens.

The otter asked, gently, "Do you have any regrets? About last night?"

Astrid shook her head.

"What can I do?" he whispered.

"Do?"

"To be with you again."

"Be with. You mean sleep with."

"Well, yeah." He shrugged. "But it's because I like you. Surely, you've sensed that?"

"I have ... I like you, too." She paused, considering. "Win the gold?"

"What?"

"Win a gold medal ... and I will spend the night with you again."

"I'd have to set a personal best time to even get silver, let alone gold," Kyler told her. "Maybe you could make it bronze?" he said hopefully.

She shook her head. "You told me you had to believe anything could happen, that anything is possible in sport."

He grinned sheepishly. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, and last night you also said you were going to win it and that I could wear it."

Me and my big fucking mouth.

"And you believe this?" she wondered. "Or were you just selling me lines."

"I do believe it," he assured. If he didn't, he could _make_himself believe it. "Why would I compete if I didn't think there was a chance for success?"

"One more item," Astrid added, drawing invisible patterns on the tabletop with a claw. "If you win, I, uh ... I want to wear it, yes. But while we are making love. The medal."

Kyler laughed. "Really?"

"It's part of the deal."

He smirked. "That's gotta be a new fetish."

She gave a bashful smile. "Yes or no?"

"Oh, it's on," he promised.

So far, he'd been 'happy to be here' and be mentioned in the range of fringe medal contenders. He was just having a good time. On _and_off the track. But psychological incentives were key to any physical performance. Maybe it was the 'oomph' he needed to get serious, to really achieve his ultimate career goal. _ _

"I should go," Astrid finally said. "I don't want to be late. I have to cover the bobsled prelims this morning." The lop stood up, gathering her stuff and putting it back on her tray to carry to the kitchen conveyor.

"Two or four-person?"

"The four-person sleds today. Two-persons are next week, I think? The luge and your, uh, skeleton contest are between."

"Mm. Right." He took a deep breath. "Well ... see you at the track?"

Astrid nodded. The lop looked like she might say something further but didn't.

She hopped off.

Left alone, Kyler finished his meal, more focused than ever.

I have to win ...

I'm going to win!

I will.

He scratched at his whiskery face, shoulders slumping.

Just need to figure out how ...

Kyler made two runs. Both Top 5 fastest for the day but still a second out of first.

Dammit.

Was it the muscle stiffness? Was slow getting off the block? And that last corner ... it had been tripping him up all week! Something about it.

It's all in my head.

I'm anticipating.

Don't.

Think.

One with the sled.

Tomorrow was the start of the competition.

Two runs, and medals based on quickest cumulative time. You could maybe afford a slight bobble on one run, but not both. And to win it all? You'd really need to be perfect on both.

The pressure getting to him, Kyler left the sledding facility and took a bus to the figure skating rink. His roommate's competition was this coming weekend. Individual free skate. The fancy rat was getting an obsessive amount of practice in.

Kyler sat in the lower seats, right behind the skaters' entrance to the ice.

Music played in the auditorium.

The fancy rat had a lean but muscular enough build, his fur a handsome cadet blue with a few errant, stylish spots of white. He was decked out in a sparkly silver uniform with alternating red and blue streaks, arms out, head back, gliding in a loose, circular pattern, before spinning, taking off around the edges of the rink and then throwing his body into a leaping twirl.

One, two, three!

His ropy tail burred around him, producing a ring-like illusion.

The rat landed, skates scraping the ice.

Not even a wobble.

Kyler clapped!

If the rat heard it, he didn't acknowledge. He kept going, ending his trial run with a rapid, lowering spin, like he was a top rotating out of control. He raised his tail above his head to make it look like a halo.

Don't know how he does that without throwing up.

Coming out of the spin, the rat bowed his head and made and gestured with his paws, holding a dramatic pose. Then he rose up, heaving for air, and skated to the exit. It was then that he spotted the otter.

"Hey, Kye!"

"Hey, Wiley. Sorry to interrupt."

"You didn't." Wiley, panting, grabbed a towel and patted it all over his head, taking a big swig from a water bottle. "You saw the whole program?"

"Pretty much."

"What'd you think?" he asked brightly.

"I've heard that song before. It's something old-timey?"

The rat rolled his eyes. "Blue Skies. Irving Berlin. It's a classic."

"I'm so uncultured," Kyler lamented lightly.

"Probably all that water in your ears. Messed up your acoustic good taste." Putting rubber guards on the bottom of his skates, the rat then nimbly walked to a bench, turning to face the otter in the lowest row. "No, but what did you think?"

"It's good. You look great."

"I know," the rat said gleefully. "This suit is sublime!"

"I meant your performance," the otter stressed.

"Oh."

"The routine flows nicely. If you land everything that smoothly in the competition, you'll be on the podium."

"Thanks! I hope so. I was second in nationals, so I'd be more than happy with bronze here. It would be an overachievement, frankly. It's gonna be tough," he rambled. "I just want to get something. I want to walk in the Closing Ceremonies with some bling around my neck."

Kyler chuckled.

"Soooo ... I got home late last night," the rat mentioned, in a singsong tone.

"What'd I do?" Kyler interrupted, sitting up straighter.

"Will you let me finish? Neither of us has white or_gold fur, and _those were colors that were clogging the drain in the shower. Hmm. Mystery! I didn't have anyone over yesterday ... "

"Busted," the otter admitted.

"It's none of my business!" the rat insisted, even as he was dying to hear the details. His blue eyes widened.

"She's a rabbit."

"Ooh, like one of those ski jumping snow bunnies? Didn't you hook up with one of them last week?"

"Yeah, at the mountain facility. But, no ... this one's a lop."

"A lop?" the rat said loudly.

"Will you not say it like that?" Kyler asked with a frown.

Wiley held up his furless paws. "Just didn't know they were your type."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're an otter."

"Last time I checked," Kyler confirmed.

"You're playful, right? Carefree, casual."

"And?"

"That's typically not the lops I've met."

"Yeah. Well. Everyone's different," Kyler assured.

"True enough." The rat stretched out his legs, tail curling around behind him. "By the way, you left your bedroom door open? You were passed out. Poor dear. Only had underwear on." The rat fanned himself. "I had half a mind to wake you up."

The otter insisted, "I'm not your type."

"No. Not quite gay enough. Yet." The rat leaned in and whispered, "I wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Mm ... " Kyler shook his head 'no,' but couldn't keep from smiling. "So, how do you do those, uh, triple spin things?"

"Spins? Things? You mean triple axels?" Wiley echoed.

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, how do you not think about it? How do you not worry about the landing while you're in the air, or like ... getting your tail caught under the blade and slicing if off. Do you ever wonder what spin you're on or whether you have momentum to achieve them all?"

"Thanks for putting that tail mutilation thought in my mind, Kye. Big help."

The otter chuckled.

"But, no, you just ... turn it all off. Take the key out of the brain ignition." He pantomimed such a motion. "I've seen you go down that hill with no restraints, on your belly, at like a gazillion miles an hour."

"Yeah, but ever since I wiped out yesterday ... I can't stop thinking during the run. I can't clear my head. I was faster today, but I need that extra half-second. I know it's there. I just don't know how to unlock it."

"Meditation. Yoga." Wiley paused, perking. "Hypnosis?"

"I don't believe in hypnosis."

The rat seemed disappointed. He crossed his arms.

"Anyway, I don't have time for any of that. My event is tomorrow."

"The easiest way not to think ... is just to close your eyes. That's what I do."

"In mid-air, twirling around? Come on."

"No, but like ... I'm either gonna land it or not, right? A lot of it comes down to instinct. So, I just let myself blink and I keep going."

"Huh ... thanks."

"No prob." The rat wriggled a bit. "By the way, are you gonna be, shall we say, in absentia, tonight?"

Kyler smirked. "Who is he?"

The rat made his voice artificially deeper and said, "What makes you think it's a he?" Giggling, he added lightly, "It is, though! He's a curler. From Canada."

"It's a moose, isn't it."

"No ... do I look like I could handle a moose? He's a raccoon. A raccoon curler." The fancy rat raised his brows. "Can you imagine how good he is with his paws?"

"I'm sure you'll find out." Kyler smiled. "I'll find something to do for a while, yeah ... catch a movie or something at the screening room."

"Thanks!" The rat stood up. "I'm gonna do another run-through. And, uh, yeah ... good luck with your death skeleton sled diving."

"Have fun with your sparkly twirling," the otter volleyed back as they parted.

It was the day of the skeleton event.

Kyler had already made his first run.

He was in P3 afterward, and the leaderboard was tight. A Russian sable currently held first with a South Korean lynx in second.

Having taken a ski lift to the top of the hill, the otter paced back and forth in the waiting area, arms crossed, a serious look on his face.

Astrid hadn't been there to interview him after his first run.

He'd looked for her.

He'd been interviewed by someone from the UK, for the BBC, but ...

The Norwegian athlete went right before me. Astrid was probably doing an extra-long session with him. He's in fourth and skeleton is one of Norway's historically weaker Winter events. It'd be a huge deal for them to get on the podium.

Kyler was currently on the podium.

That was a big deal!

He puffed his chest out, raising his tail a little higher.

Hell, yeah.

To get an Olympic medal? It's what he'd worked so hard for, and it was right there, within his grasp! Even an average second run might clinch something it if his opponents had a few bobbles.

But the stakes had been raised.

I can't be with her again unless I get the gold_._

Not silver, not bronze.

This wasn't just about sex anymore, though ... yeah, okay, it was partly about sex. Maybe even a lot about sex.

This can be about multiple things!

I'm a respectable adult, here.

_Sort of. _

He wanted to impress Astrid, to show her that going out on a limb wasn't something to be scared by. That some risks were worth taking. Would you be disappointed, sometimes? Sure. But what if you weren't? Shoot for the moon. Get the stars, instead.

More than that, he wanted to reemphasize this to himself. A few days ago, he would've been content to simply post respectable times. Now, his competitive fire had been rekindled. It was consuming him. He didn't want to win.

I need it.

I want to beat the best.

I want to be the best.

"Entrant 26, you are next in the queue," one of the officials said, a wolf with a thick German accent. He pointed sharply at the otter. Each athlete had a number on the belly of their uniform.

Kyler wasn't afraid. Instead, he felt a steely resolve.

Let's fucking do this! _ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

Zooooom!

Down a straight.

Swish, swoosh, wooosh!

Through a series of turns, drifting high, but not too high. Just enough to get a good exit for the next chute.

Kyler barely blinked the whole journey.

Until the final turn.

He blinked.

Closed his eyes for just a second, flying by instinct alone.

Feel it.

One with the sled.

He sliced through that section as fast as he had all week, hearing the bells go off as he crossed the line. He spread his legs and arms to scrub his speed, hearing the crowd roar. Pushing himself up, he took off his helmet and looked for his time.

First place!

Pumping his fist and chirping into the air, the otter grinned and shook his head. Unbelievable! Hah! Yeah!

How many contenders were left, though?

He looked at the times.

The athlete previously in second had already gone. Kyler had leapt him. That just left the former leader, the Russian sable.

As the sable launched off the block, his eagerness got the best of him. He pushed too hard on his sled, inching it just out of the groove! He quickly got it back in, but the mistake cost him half a second by the time he reached the drop off compared to Kyler's last run.

They were dead even now.

Kyler's pulse raced.

The run was halfway complete, and the sable was scrubbing time in one corner, gaining it back in the next. He was approaching the final turn ...

... and he inched up a bit too high, losing just a fraction of a second off the exit.

He blurred across the finish line.

Kyler held his breath.

The sable's time flashed up. P2, barely.

Kyler remained in first!

He'd won.

By a literal blink of an eye!

He let out a 'yessss!' and dropped to his knees, burying his face in his paws. He rubbed his eyes, crying, looking back up. Reporters and the press were starting to swarm around him. The air buzzed. There were still several sledders to go, but they were too far back in time to realistically catch him. He was the unofficial gold medalist. Standing up, he received some hugs and back pats from fellow competitors.

US television was the first to interview him.

"Kyler, you're the first American to earn skeleton gold in twenty years!" a vixen exclaimed. "How did you do it?"

He laughed, getting choked up again. "I just ... I believed I could. I threw myself down that track, didn't think about it. In the past, my runs have been a little reckless. I felt I had more control, more focus this time ... I don't know ... I just ... heh! I actually did it! Mom! Dad! I did it! Love you, sis!"

The vixen grinned and congratulated him.

Next up was the BBC. The questions were short and generic. Mostly 'how are you feeling right now?'

"How am I feeling?" the otter repeated incredulously. "Well, I can't curse on TV, but if I could, you'd have to bleep out my entire bleeping response!"

Everyone laughed.

Eventually, the crowd drifted away. There would be an official press conference in half-an-hour, when the competition ended, after the medal ceremony. Spots for that were first come, first serve, so they had to get in position now.

One person remained.

"Astrid," Kyler whispered, opening his arms.

The lop hopped into them, arms around the otter's chest. "You did it," she breathed, sounding incredulous.

"Mm-hmm. I told ya." The otter lowered his head, nose in her head-fur. He closed his eyes, releasing the lop before anyone noticed his paws were unabashedly groping her ass.

The rabbit composed herself and stepped back, looking around. All the camera people were heading to the podium, so no one had been eavesdropping. Brushing her long, limp ears away from her face, she wondered, as if she didn't know, "How ... how are you going to celebrate?"

Hours later, Astrid lurched forward, the fanciful gold medal swinging from her neck like a shiny, wayward pendulum as Kyler's muddy-brown hips slapped into her cushioned, bobtailed rump.

"What's ha ... hotter ... ah, ahh! Wearing gold or getting fucked by the Olympic champion," the otter asked cockily, webbed paws on her hips. He gripped them, thrusting harder, faster. On his knees behind the naked bunny, who was on all fours for him, doggystyle.

"Do I ... oh ... h-have to choose?" the rabbit whined.

"Mm, why not both?" Kyler said, slowing his roll. He leaned forward, shifting from his knees to an 'all fours' position atop her body, covering her entire back with his chest. His mouth on her shoulder, he bit down on her neck possessively. Not enough to hurt her, but enough for her to feel.

And, indeed, it made the bunny squeal.

His once-sharp thrusts became rhythmic gyrations. "Ohhh, you're so gooood ... "

Astrid whined.

"Mmm ... you're close, aren't you?"

"Mm! Mm-hmm!"

"Mmm, me, too ... fuck ... " Without prompting, the otter reached beneath her body, a paw sliding down her belly, below her waist. She began to wriggle. She knew what was coming. Indeed, his fingers found her clit, and he began to tease it, rub it, press it.

The lop arched. "Ahh ... !"

"Bunny," Kyler murmured, resuming his thrusts. "Cum for me ... "

Astrid gasped, head lowering to a pillow. She did just that. Screaming into the fluffy headrest, her pussy clamped down on him, squirting, leaving the otter's balls dripping.

Kyler shivered, burying into her and following suit, spurting intensely. His orgasm unfurled like waves of pleasure. He rode each one, cresting with them.

When it was over, he pulled out of her and flopped down. She did, too, and he spooned behind her on the bed.

The otter, arms around the rabbit, fondled his own medal. She looked good wearing it. "When I come to worlds next winter? To Norway? Think you can show me the sights?" He paused to add, just in case she didn't get it, "I'd be sure to 'compensate' you for your time, of course ... "

The lop looked over her shoulder into his eyes. "A _complete_tour?" she said.

"Top to bottom," the otter emphasized.

Astrid hesitated.

Kyler waited.

He wouldn't be able to hold her to it. After all, they lived half a world away. That wouldn't change. They'd live their own lives in the meantime, but ... maybe, once a winter, they could have this? Maybe their paths might continue to cross?

A shy smile crept across Astrid's muzzle, eyes sparking, wordlessly conveying her answer.

Kyler happily grinned back at her.

To the winner goes the spoils!