The Powder Instructor – Part 2: Fresh Tracks
Gay Stories·EN·2 min read·Published 2026-11-07, updated 2026-11-07·Part 2 of 2
On his last morning, Kenji woke him at five.
"Boots," he said. "Dress warm. I have a surprise."
They rode the first lift of the day in the pre-dawn blue. The mountain was silent and enormous, the snow smooth as cream. At the top, Kenji led him off the groomed run to an untouched slope of fresh powder, glittering and pristine under the lightening sky.
"Fresh tracks," he said. "You ski first."
"I can't. I'll ruin it."
"You'll make it."
Ravi took a breath. He pushed off, and the snow rose up around his legs in soft clouds. He leaned, turned, let the mountain carry him. He skied down the slope in long curving arcs, his skis floating, snow flying up in glittering plumes, the whole valley opening beneath him. He did not fall.
At the bottom he stopped, panting, and looked back at the line he'd drawn: a wide silver ribbon, unbroken, cutting through the white.
"I did it," he whispered.
Kenji arrived beside him in a spray of snow, grinning like a boy. "You did."
"I didn't fall."
"You did not fall."
They stood in silence. Snow had begun to fall again, big soft flakes drifting from a pale sky. The mountain glowed.
"Can I ask you something?" said Ravi.
"Yes."
"I fly home tomorrow."
"I know."
"May I kiss you before I do?"
"Yes," said Kenji, gently. "And if you say stop, you must come back next winter and fall again."
"That isn't a punishment."
"No."
Ravi kissed him, cold nose against cold nose, then slow and warm. Kenji's mittened hands rose to his face. They tasted of coffee and snow. Flakes settled on their eyelashes, and the world went white and quiet around them.
When they parted, both of them were smiling.
"Green?" asked Kenji.
"Green," said Ravi. "Very green."
In December he was back. He fell once on the first run, on purpose, to be picked up.
More gay romance stories: Morning Run · Night Telescope · The Tailor's Apprentice
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