You and Nico had very different ways to use your free time outside of your work and his hockey. For example, when Nico wasn’t on the ice or spending time with you, he was in the gym.

It was how he relaxed, and released any pent up energy. Plus it kept him fit, obviously.

You on the other hand preferred to spend it in another way. In a way that involved point shoes, and a level of grace most people could only dream of. Including Nico. You’d been doing ballet for years, and it was one of the first things he’d learnt about you, and the things you could do were genuinely impressive.

But while he loved watching you, he insisted it wasn’t for him, and he couldn’t see it ever being useful for him. And without thinking, dropped the word… easy. He knew it wasn’t, but it slipped out regardless. By then it was too late.

You’d taken that as a challenge.

You dragged him to your at home ballet studio, and decided that if he was going to make judgements like that, he had to at least have the evidence to back it up.

It took all of 45 minutes for him to regret ever opening his mouth. Every muscle in his body below the shoulders were basically dead. Simply standing made his legs shake, and his feet were cramping. They had been for half an hour, but it had only gotten worse.

And still you weren’t done. You were about to start counting again, and he shuddered. He shook his head, lowering himself to the ground in the most awkward way possible, and just lying down flat on the ground.

“What are you doing? We’re not done yet,” you started with an amused smile, and he held up his hand, breathing heavily.

“Please. You win. This isn’t easy. End my misery,” he groaned, letting his hand fall back to his side.