— t w e n t y —

, skiing was not all that easy.

Oliver and Reed were the only two who had never skied before; the Montgomery's had been coming annually for years and Clair had been quite a few times with her family before. After they'd all suited up in thermals and jackets and gloves in the morning, the other four would troop off to the blue and red pistes while Oliver and Reed were left at the gentle slopes of the green pistes. Reed had waved Oliver off when he suggested they could join the beginners classes, with a dismissive, "I'm sure we can figure it out ourselves." That resulted in the first couple of days being a lot of faffing and struggling to stay upright on the skis and Oliver laughing a little too hard when Reed spent more time face-planting the snow than actually skiing.

"Shut the fuck up," Reed growled, pushing himself to his feet for the millionth time and pointing a threatening finger at Oliver. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and snow clung to his eyelashes, only slightly paler than his hair. "Laugh one more time, I dare you. I'll shove you off the ski lift and we'll see who's laughing then."

Oliver grinned. "Wouldn't you have to get your face out of the snow for once to shove me off anything?" He ducked out of the way when Reed lobbed a snowball at him and blew him a kiss. The next snowball caught Oliver in the face but it was worth it for the expression on Reed's face.

Everyone would end up back at the chalet by late afternoon, Oliver and Reed usually earlier than the others because they gave up on falling over so much, exhausted and in need of a hot shower. The rest of the day was spent exploring the town of Val Thorens. Naturally, being who he was, Reed sought out the pool by the first day and spent at least a couple of hours doing laps. He also spent a fair amount of time in the gym, which was admittedly far nicer than their grotty school gym. Oliver often joined him for both of those activities.

Then there were the restaurants and bars, the four of them eating out for dinner with Adam's parents and usually splitting after for the rest of the evening. Sometimes the four of them headed back to chill in the hot tub, and other times they'd stay out in town for a little longer, checking out the bars. A few of the places they got away with buying drinks without getting ID'd and they made a note of them for future reference. In the bars where pints could be as expensive as twelve euros, Reed would stick with tap water or whatever the cheapest drink was. He was far more cautious with his money than the rest of them, whether it was drinks or renting out extra equipment. Luckily, most of the bars weren't too steeply priced and Adam was more than happy to buy rounds of drinks for everyone once he'd gotten a little tipsy.

"God," Clair said, tipping her head back where she was perched on one of the barstools with a groan. "My head is killing me."

"No asked you to do those jelly shots," Reed said, although he looked a little worse for wear himself and had certainly done his fair share of jelly shots last night.

It was their third day in Val Thorens and the four of them had woken up late this morning to drag themselves into the kitchen, hungover as fuck. Adam's parents had already set off for the slopes before any of them had even woken up. Last night was the biggest drinking night they'd had so far; they'd wandered into a bar just as happy hour began and Oliver had lost track of how many drinks they ordered, only knowing the thought of them this morning was turning his stomach. Clair had dragged them all up to do karaoke in front of everyone in that rather crowded bar and it had all gone to shit when Adam ordered the first round of jelly shots.

Now Adam was slumped over the breakfast bar in his barstool looking very sorry for himself, Reed was yawning into his mug of coffee, and Clair's usually perfectly styled curls were a frazzled mess around her head. Oliver could imagine he looked to be in a similar state of mess and didn't know if he was going to manage to drag himself out on the slopes at any point today.

"Thank fuck my patents have already left," Adam mumbled into his arms, which were acting as a pillow for his face. "If they saw this...I don't even want to imagine. If they ask, we got up just after them and headed straight for the slopes all bright and perky, not hungover at all."

Oliver poured himself a cup of coffee. "I'm not sure any of us will be getting our shit together enough to maintain that lie, but sure."

"Give me a couple of hours and I'll be ready to go," Clair said, and peered over at Adam. "Wanna try one of the red slopes today? I'm bored of the blue ones. Too easy."

"Sure." Adam looked like he was too busy regretting his life choices to be thinking about any of the slopes. "Whatever."

"What about you guys?" She glanced over at Oliver, then Reed. "Still stuck on the green slopes?"

Oliver was sure the light jab to the last question was to irk Reed and from the way he narrowed his eyes at her, it worked. "It's only been three days," he said. "Give us some time to catch up."

"Hey, it's fine if you want to stay on the green slopes. Each to their own," she said, lifting a shoulder in a dainty shrug. "Skiing isn't for everyone. Don't worry if you never get the hang of it, Reed, I'm sure it won't be the first or last thing."

"Fuck you. I'm more than capable of managing one of the red slopes."

Oliver could have pointed out that Reed could barely manage the easier slope at the resort, forget the red ones, but he figured Reed would murder him for admitting any of that in front of Clair. Not that it mattered; Clair's derisive laughter made it clear she didn't believe a word of that.

"One of the red slopes? Have you even attempted one of the blue ones before? Keep dreaming," she said, when the only response she got to her question was the middle finger. Her hazel eyes gleamed with amusement as she flicked a glance towards Oliver. "Isn't it cute that your friend has such high hopes? I'm sure you're much better at skiing than him. You seem like you would be."

"I'm not," Oliver said, not sure whether it was a genuine compliment or just an attempt to further rile Reed up. Reed looked like he was ready to dump his scalding mug of coffee all over Clair's head and it was only Adam's grumbled complaint that they shut up because their bickering was doing his head in that saved things from getting more heated.

Oliver should have known that Reed wasn't going to let it go that easily. Later that day, when the four of them by some miracle managed to drag themselves out of the chalet, Reed marched right past the surface lift that they had been taking up to the top of the green slope for the past couple of days. "Hey," Oliver said, pausing by the lift even as Reed kept walking. "You've passed our piste."

"I know," Reed called over his shoulder.

Oliver hurried to catch up with him when it was clear he wasn't stopping. "You want to try a different slope? I think they had another green one that way," he said, gesturing off to their left. "Doesn't look too much harder than the one we've been doing. Which is good, because we all know neither of us are making it to the bottom of it."

"Speak for yourself," Reed said, ignoring the path Oliver had pointed out and turning up towards the steeper slopes. "I'm not doing a green one today."

"Really?" Oliver could already tell he was going to hate where this was going. "And what are you planning on doing today?"

Reed pointed. "That one."

Oliver's jaw didn't drop, but it was a close thing. The mountain slope Reed had pointed out was one of the red pistes, one of the steeper ones on the resort which curved rather than taking a straight path down and dotted with pine trees that required at least minimal skill to swerve with any success. Oliver was fairly certain it was the same slope Clair had been complaining about yesterday, saying she wanted to try it but thought it might be too hard.

"You must be taking the piss," Oliver said, although Reed's expression said he was anything but joking. "Clair was talking about how that slope is too hard for her. Clair, who has been skiing before and has years of experience."

"Not my problem if Clair is too pussy for it," Reed said with a sneer. "I'm sure I'll be able to handle it, even if she can't."

"Reed, please don't be stupid. You'll snap your neck if you go on that thing. Who cares what Clair thinks about which slopes we're doing?"

"This has nothing to do with her," Reed snapped. "I want to try that slope because I'm bored of the green ones."

"Then try a blue one," Oliver said, which he still thought was a terrible idea, considering neither of them had stayed upright all the way to the bottom on literally the easiest slope in the whole resort. He personally thought they should just put their skies away and recover from the remnants of their hangover in the bubbling hot tub, but he recognised this determined blaze in Reed's eyes. He wasn't heading back to the chalet until he'd somehow proved himself. "Try an easy blue one, not one of the hardest red slopes in this resort. Just ease yourself into it."

"Fuck that," Reed said, and started towards the ski lift for that slope. Oliver grabbed his arm before he could get more than a few steps away and earned himself a glare. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you fucking can. Stay away from that slope," Oliver said, alarmed enough to verge on irritation. "Seriously. It's a death wish and I don't feel like ending this trip with you in a body bag."

"It's sweet that you care, but I'll be fine." Reed pulled free from his grip and had the audacity to give Oliver a pat on the cheek, lips curling up at the corners. "Have a little faith, Oliver."

Oliver was less than impressed. "I have faith in you to win a swimming competition, not ski a slope you have literally zero experience for."

"Feel free to hang back if you don't want to come. I'll be fine."

Reed continued towards the ski lift and Oliver had little choice but to follow after him. Reed would most certainly not be fine, and if he was insistent on going ahead with this suicidal plan, Oliver had to go with him to make sure he didn't die. His certainty that this was the worst idea Reed had ever had in his life only grew as the ski lift ascended higher above Val Thorens than they had been before. The piste below them was dotted with miniature coloured figures zooming down the slope and the buildings looked like tiny huts from this high up. It would have been a beautiful view, if not for the fact they had to jump off the ski lift at the top so Reed could hurtle to his death.

"This is a bad idea," Oliver said, for what had to be the millionth time. "I can't put into words how much of a bad idea this is."

Jumping off the ski lift at the right time had been hard enough; Reed had jumped off almost too early, and Oliver almost hadn't jumped off. The late jump meant he got to face-plant the snow this time, much to Reed's delight. Now, standing at the peak of this insanely high slope, with seasoned skiers whizzing past them every second, Oliver wished he hadn't jumped off. He wished he had yanked Reed back into the lift and they'd coasted safely down to the bottom and were soaking in the heated warm of the hot tub. Which always had the added bonus of a shirtless Reed.

"Well, then, stop trying," Reed suggested, looked entirely unbothered as he surveyed the snowy tracks before him. "I told you, you didn't have to come. You can take the ski lift back down."

"I'd love to. But if you're insistent on going through with this dumbass plan, then I'm staying."

Reed grinned at him. "Such loyalty."

"Trust me, I'm regretting associating with you at all," Oliver muttered. "I should've just stayed in London after all, saved myself all this drama. I forgot how difficult you can be."

"I think the word you're looking for is interesting."

"No, definitely difficult. Difficult and a pain in my ass."

"You wish," Reed said, and instantly looked like he regretted it, his face reddening even under all the gear he was wearing. He pointed a threatening finger at Oliver and shook his head. "Shut your mouth. Don't you dare say a word."

"I don't need to," Oliver said, amused. "I believe you were the one who turned that into something sexual. Anything you want to talk about, Reed?"

Reed scowled, somehow flushing even deeper. One of Oliver's new favourite games was seeing how hard he could make Reed blush and he was getting pretty good at it. "I'm not talking about shit with you. No," he said, raising his voice when Oliver tried to say something more, and pitched both of his sticks forward ready to ski. "I'm going. See you at the bottom."

"Wait — "

He pushed off with his sticks and Oliver watched in faint horror as he jetted off down the slope. For a moment, Oliver thought he might actually make it. He took the first ten seconds clean down the centre of the slope and wobbled a little as it began to curve, but then he managed to correct himself just in time. It was when the piste twisted more sharply a little further down that things went to shit. The snowy pine trees flanking the slope came closer to the packed snow for skiing due to the way the piste curved and Oliver's heart leapt into his throat when Reed didn't turn in time, crashing straight through the stand of trees. That quickly morphed into a surge of terror when Reed didn't re-emerge.

His first instinctive was to to hop on the skis down to where Reed had crashed, but he knew that was a stupid idea. He'd only end up crashing himself and couldn't do much to help Reed if he'd snapped his neck himself. Oliver jumped on the first ski lift going down and tried to shove down his growing panic as it glided down at what felt like a snails pace, almost wishing he'd just tried to ski down to get there quicker. He jumped off the ski lift as it passed the trees, eliciting startled exclamations from the family he had been sharing it with, and landed in a thick snow drift. Some of the panic squeezing his heart eased off when he saw Reed was sitting up, dazed but conscious. His sticks had were scattered a few feet away and he was covered in so much snow he looked like he had been shaken in a snow globe.

"Reed," Oliver said, scrambling through the thick snow as quickly as he could. He could feel it seeping through his coat, trickling into his boots. "Shit, are you okay?"

Reed blinked, looking around as if to remind himself what had just happened. "I'm fine," he said, the words coming out almost as a question, as if he wasn't sure himself. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the snow from the helmet and cast the trees around them a baleful look. "Fucking trees. Got in my way."

Oliver laughed with giddy relief. "Sure, because you were doing so well before then."

"I was," Reed said crossly. "I'll get it next time — "

"No fucking way," Oliver said, his voice sharper than he intended to. He was still reeling a bit from those terrifying moments he'd thought Reed had seriously injured himself and was not going through that again. He would tie Reed down himself, if that was the only way to stop him attempting this slope again. "There is no next time. Forget about it."

Reed pulled a face at him. "Fine. Didn't realise you could be so bossy."

"If it's the only way to stop you getting yourself killed," Oliver said, "then fine, I'm bossy."

Reed rolled his eyes and tried to stand up, only to sway a little in the snow. Oliver instinctively went to steady him by the arm and didn't miss the wince Reed tried to hide. It was only then Oliver realised Reed was holding his hand awkwardly against his chest, almost cradling it. He had been too relieved to notice it earlier, but now that he studied Reed a little harder, he saw he seemed a little too pale and he looked as if he was fighting off a grimace. His shoulders were tensed as if in pain.

Oliver frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Reed said, a little too quickly.

"Your wrist. Don't lie to me," Oliver said, his frown only deepening when Reed began to shake his head. "Did you hurt it?"

"It's fine, just a little sore. Probably banged it when I fell."

"Let me see," Oliver said.

Reed shook his head again. There was a definite breathless undertone of pain to his voice, a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

"Reed," Oliver said, frustrated at how unnecessarily difficult he was being about this, "just let me see your fucking wrist."

Reed's mouth twisted and he muttered, "So bossy. And since when did you swear so much? Thought you were too cool and collected for that." But he obliged in holding his arm out at Oliver's hard stare, wincing again as doing so jostled it.

"It's hard not to swear when you're involved," Oliver muttered back. "You are incredibly infuriating at times."

"Which is all part of the charm — "

He broke off with a gasped curse when Oliver touched his wrist and gritted his teeth through the rest of the examination, letting Oliver probe the swollen skin of his wrist with careful fingers. Oliver was no doctor, he barely even had basic first aid training, but he didn't think Reed's wrist was "just a little sore". It was clear he was in quite a lot of pain, more than he would admit, and the injured area was hot to the touch. It was hard to tell, but it also looked slightly bent at an unnatural angle. Reed had paled even further by the time Oliver was done and was breathing a little too shallowly.

"You idiot," Oliver said, with a sigh. "I think you've sprained it, at least. Maybe broken it if you're unlucky."

"No, I'm sure it's fine. It just needs some ice and it'll be good as new."

"Forgive me for not trusting your medical opinion," Oliver said, with a considerable dose of sarcasm.

Reed narrowed his eyes at him. "And why should we be trusting your medical opinion?"

"Because I'm not a stubborn idiot who refuses to admit when he's hurt himself," Oliver said. "Anyway, you'll need to see a doctor about it, because neither of us have any kind of expertise to be making diagnoses like this."

"I don't need — "

"Don't say you don't need a doctor," Oliver warned. "I've already put up with enough of your stupidity today. Let's not add untreated injury to the list."

"Fine, if you're not going to shut up about it, we'll see a bloody doctor. Not that I need to," he added, as letting Oliver have the last word was some admittance of defeat. "I'm perfectly fine. Which will become apparent soon enough."

Three hours later, sitting in Val Thorens's warm cozy medical centre in Place Péclet, Oliver was feeling petty enough to be at least a little smug when the doctor informed Reed his wrist was, in fact, broken. Fortunately, it wasn't a bad enough break to require surgery or implants; Oliver wasn't that much of a dick that he would feel righteous if Reed was that seriously injured. As it was, he did have to have local anaesthetic so the doctor could reduce the fractured bones back in place and had to get a cast fitted over it.