Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles
Back when they started dating, watching his girlfriend – fiancé now – skate was something special. It made him shiver, it pulled him into a whole new world, it made emotions swirl in his chest. By now, Evan is so used to watching Tanith glide over the ice with Ben that it leaves him perfectly calm, it doesn’t tug at his heart or leave him with an impression that he just saw something great and memorable. All he sees is a lift here, a twizzle there, a spin thrown in, a dramatic gesture meant to boost the component scores. He’s watched Tanith and Ben so many times that their skating lost its charm, became ordinary, just like the way Tanith smiles when she and Ben win, like the kisses he gets from her when they’re together, like the way she meows his name sweetly after he’s made love to her.
He’s watched Johnny Weir skate so many times that his skating should have become ordinary for his eyes, too. But it hasn’t. He watches, mesmerized, as Weir floats across the ice to a melody from a Russian movie Evan has never seen, dressed in red and gold. Every movement of his hand, every gesture, every jump and spin and step – it’s magic and it touches something deep inside Evan, moves something huge in his chest. He would be surprised if Johnny didn’t get the Olympic gold for this. Because this is… He’s not quite sure what it is, all he knows is that watching Johnny Weir do his programs can keep him entranced like nobody else’s skating ever could.
When Johnny finishes his performance and breaks into joyful tears right there on the ice, Evan turns his back to the little TV. He’s afraid Johnny’s smile might blind him if he kept watching, just like it did that time nine years ago in Sofia when he saw Johnny win for the first time. Nobody’s smile has ever looked quite good enough after that.
“It’s over,” he whispers and nobody in the lounge room knows that he’s not referring to the battle for Olympic gold, but to something far more valuable and important.