Chapter Text
Vi jostled Ekko, both of them laughing while they shoved through the door to their room at the Olympic Village.
“Aaaaand here we are! Home sweet h–”
Vi stopped mid-word, arm extended out in her best impression of one of those women who worked on tv game shows as she finished turning around and came to a halt, getting a look at their room.
The room was pretty small, but that was fine. She had grown up sharing a room - and often a bed - with her little sister. She could deal with small. And the sliding door onto a balcony was nice, for sure, although…it kind of looked like they were just looking straight across at other hotel rooms, instead of at any of the actual, you know. Views.
What had stopped Vi in her tracks, and what now had Ekko laughing incredulously next to her as he saw it, staring between it and Vi with wide eyes was…
They had cardboard beds.
Vi didn’t even have to touch the “frame” to find out - she could see the folded edges from where she was standing just inside the door.
Ekko dropped his shit, walking forward so he was standing in front of one of the beds before turning and sitting down in a rustle of… papery noises.
He bounced a few times, the motion causing yet more papery noises to come from the direction of the bed.
Ekko shifted a few more times, and they listened to the sweet sound of helping a friend move, of a pizza being opened, of helping Vander out by hauling in the alcohol from the store room.
“Comfy,” Ekko said, deadpan and straight-faced, looking at Vi.
Vi stared at the bed and then up at Ekko before they both cracked up laughing, doubled over and wheezing.
From the direction of the hallway on the other side of their closed door, they could hear more laughter.
Cardboard fuckin’ beds.
Here’s the thing: they were at Olympic Village, a place that had literal bowls of condoms at, like, every single place a person might pass it by in public because the Olympics - both summer and winter - were basically a fuckfest.
You didn’t have to fuck, but the strain of finally getting to compete at the highest level after years of prep, the thrill of winning, the sting of losing, and the fact that they were all athletes with (usually) higher than average sex drives?
Yeah.
Olympians fucked.
It was, like, common knowledge that you didn’t get in any of the hot tubs unless you wanted to go straight to your doctor when you got home.
But…it seemed like this year’s host city had really wanted to put a stop to all that. Vi guessed that the Freljord was more prudish than other places?
Ekko’s eyes widened, “Dude…how much weight do these things even hold? ”
Vi burst into a fresh set of giggles, imagining some of the larger athletes on these tiny fucking beds.
Because, oh yeah, they were cardboard, and they were very clearly only large enough for one, medium-sized person.
Some of the bigger athletes were going to have to pull over the little nightstands to rest their arms on, so they weren’t fucking dangling all night.
Real great for getting good sleep before their events.
“Oh, God,” she gasped out, catching Ekko’s attention, “The fucking hockey players.”
She and Ekko stared at each other for a few seconds before Ekko cackled so loud his body shook and his bed started making little, shifting papery noises, and Vi laughed so hard she had to sit on the floor.
They were friends with some of the hockey players - she and Ekko were snowboarders, and they trained on one of the mountains around Zaun, which also had the best (the only) hockey rink in the area. Vi made a mental note to snap a selfie with the bed and send it to her friends, asking how they were holding up.
She’d volunteer her own little nightstand if one of them needed it for their feet.
Vi’d fit on the bed - it would be a little bit tight for her shoulders, but should be fine, and Ekko was a small guy, so the two of them would be okay. She could loan out her nightstand for one of her friends who was absolutely not going to fit on the damn thing.
______
The cardboard beds sucked.
They sucked… so bad.
The mattresses were really thin, the stupid things made noises like you were in a library every time you rolled over, and Vi was pretty sure it had given her a papercut on her elbow.
Her elbow.
But, she was at the Olympics, an event she had been training for basically her whole life just by virtue of pushing to be the best, and then deliberately for the past four years, and Vi was…Vi was ready.
Even beat up by the stupid bed, and a little tired, and adjusting to the higher altitude and the fucking jet lag and the taco salad that had fucked her stomach up yesterday…Vi was ready.
That feeling had been with her ever since she had first stepped off the plane.
Getting on, she had been nervous - the flight had been her first ever, and the turbulence had been hell, and she was pretty sure the next person who tried to move those armrests was going to end up with an unexpected souvenir from their trip, but…stepping out onto solid ground?
Vi was ready.
She was ready as she went through the beginning few days of acclimation, practice, and orientation; she was ready through the interviews and meeting new people; she was ready through uncomfortable nights inside a cardboard box; and she was ready now, as she stood between the gates, waiting for the signal to fucking fly down the mountain.
Vi took a deep breath, feeling the gates through her gloves, hands flexing against the metal.
The attendant next to the gates held his hand out.
Vi thought about the course: the jumps, the tricks, what she wanted to fucking do out there.
Three…
Vi inhaled deeply.
Two…
A grin spread across her face under her fleece gaiter.
One…
Vi blew the breath out of her lungs.
Go.
She flew.