If it's one thing that Toris still hasn't picked up from so many years of Ivan's oppressive rule. . .It was ice-skating. The brunette couldn't understand it - it just seemed like he didn't have the actual skills in balancing on ice. Which was weird - because normally he did have a good sense of balance. And he fell. A lot. Whenever he was somehow coaxed out onto the ice by Ivan, by the end of it, he was wet, freezing, and still had ice stuck to his pants, arms and back.
But it wasn't so bad when Ivan would hold onto him, and attempt to show him how to skate. Because those were the times when Ivan wasn't cruel, when he was sweet and almost , well. . .Ivan wasn't drunk when he went ice-skating either, which was good.
And right now, with Ivan holding onto his waist, and gently pushing him from behind, Toris was shocked to find that he was actually. . .well, enjoying this. For such a tall man, clothed in bulky clothes, Ivan was surprisingly graceful when he was on ice, and sweet and patient in his attempts to explain to Toris that no - taking baby steps on ice didn't actually count as ice-skating.
And Ivan's hands were warm, and the realization made Toris stumble, and collide against Ivan's chest, and the Russian steadied him, held him there for a few seconds too long before Toris, out of instinct, pushed him away and immediately fell onto the ice. And Ivan was there immediately, hand proffered to Toris to help him up, and he took it.