Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles
Tanith is frustrated. The thing she usually does when she’s frustrated, the only thing that actually works, is getting laid – there’s nothing like an orgasm when you need to clear your head, get it out of her system. Skating sometimes helps, too, but not when the frustration is skating-related, obviously. Damn the CD.
Evan’s not exactly expert at the whole female orgasm thing, but he tries and, when Tanith closes her eyes and guides his fingers, adding the right amount of pressure in the right spot, it usually works and he manages to get her off, in the end. Evan is not around this time, though – damn him, too, because how’s Tanith supposed to un-frustrate herself now?!
She ends up in Johnny’s room, sitting on his bed and munching on a square of the sinfully good chocolate Stéphane brought for Johnny from Switzerland. She makes Johnny put it away after the one piece, because she’s sure that she’d eat all of it if he didn’t – it’s the perfect kind of chocolate that just melts on your tongue, the one that you want to eat more and more of until there’s nothing left. Once Johnny and Stéphane finally get together for real, Tanith muses, relishing the aftertaste the chocolate leaves on his tongue, Johnny’s going to get fat.
Johnny lets her bitch about the tango, about the goddamn single twizzle, about Ben and how he’s acting as if he had never fucked up a program, he even lets her whine about Evan and how he’s never around when she needs him and how he’s no good, anyway. Tanith decides that she kinda loves Johnny and is beginning to wonder just how far their friendship extends and whether his understanding of “being there for your friends” includes fucking them when they ask for it, when there is a knock on the door.
It’s Sasha Zaretski and Tanith almost feels a pang of jealousy when she realizes that she’s probably not the only one who comes to Johnny to bitch and whine about men. Johnny’s good at that, the bitching and whining about men, and there’s nothing like having a conversation partner who can actually relate. She suddenly wishes Johnny wasn’t gay – he’d make a very useful boyfriend.
She half expects Sasha to leave, because, clearly, Tanith was here first? But she just walks in, giving Johnny a quick peck on the cheek, and mutters something in Russian that Tanith doesn’t understand. It makes Johnny chuckle, though, and Tanith hopes it’s not about her.
Johnny doesn’t offer Sasha chocolate – she gets a shot of the vodka Johnny smuggled in instead, and, because Johnny is fair, Tanith gets one, too. It burns her throat and makes her cough, while Johnny and Sasha swallow their shots like water, laughing as Tanith gasps for air.
“Oh, fuck off,” she mutters darkly and contemplates whether she should just leave. She’s not exactly feeling much better yet – the bitching and whining only takes you so far.
Johnny pats her back then, though, and she decides to forgive him. She decides to forgive Sasha, too, when she squeezes her shoulder and tells her that she won’t tell anyone and that Tanith is still better than most of the other Americans at the whole vodka thing, that she might even pass for a Russian.
“You’re definitely pretty enough for that,” she adds and Johnny chuckles some more, earning himself a slap.
Three shots later, Tanith’s throat feels like a flaming inferno, but the alcohol makes the rest of her body all warm and fuzzy. And horny, but she tries not to think about that, because that would be counter-productive, considering the company she’s in.
She’s just beginning to feel okay, almost ready to forget the CD of doom, when Johnny announces that he really, really needs to shower and do his exfoliating now, otherwise it will be too late and he’ll be too lazy and eww dead skin cells. He tells them not to worry, though, they can stay if they want, he’ll re-join them later.
It sounds nice in theory, but in practice, the silence that settles over them once Johnny scuttles off into the bathroom is rather awkward. They listen to the echo of running water for a while, then Johnny breaks into a song – Christina, of course – and they’re laughing, covering their mouths with their hands so Johnny doesn’t hear them.
“My brother does that, too,” Sasha comments once she catches her breath.
“So does Ben. And Evan,” Tanith nods, giggling at the memory. Evan is an even worse singer than Johnny, plus his choice of music is.... well. Dubious.
“You must miss him,” Sasha says and, suddenly, Tanith remembers that she’s, in fact, still frustrated (and horny) and that Evan isn’t here to help her out.
“Yeah,” she answers, bitterness creeping into her tone. “No medal, no boyfriend, no sex,” she sighs.
Sasha giggles in response and Tanith wonders if she’ll have to reconsider and hate on her, after all, because that is so not the appropriate reaction. But then Sasha tips her head to the side, eyes sparkling, and says: “Well, I can’t help with the first two...” and she daintily runs her index finger over Tanith’s knee. It feels nice, Tanith realizes, nicer than it probably should – maybe it’s the vodka, of course, or maybe Johnny has a point with his whole gay thing.
A little later, Tanith concludes that Johnny definitely has a point, because Sasha’s tentative touches give her goose-bumps, small hands sneaking under her shirt to play across her back and her belly, a light scratch of manicured nails here, a gentle squeeze there – almost as if Sasha knew exactly where and how to caress.
“But – Johnny?” Tanith mumbles when Sasha leans in to kiss her, glancing towards the bathroom door.
“He always takes forever,” Sasha smiles reassuringly and, before Tanith has the chance to follow the rather unexpected train of rational thought, her lips close over Tanith’s. They kiss softly at first, lips merely brushing, tasting, until Tanith finally runs out of patience and slips her tongue into Sasha’s mouth. Sasha responds immediately, kissing back hungrily, one hand in Tanith’s hair to hold her in place, the other between them, still dancing across the skin underneath her shirt.
They tumble down on the bed, pulling shirts over their heads hastily, tugging at the strands of hair that get in the way. Then Sasha’s lips are gliding over her skin, wet and warm, sending shivers all through her system when Sasha kisses around her nipple, one and then the other. Tanith digs her nails into Sasha’s shoulder, hard – there will be imprints later, but she doesn’t care. The sudden desire rushing through her veins is exhilarating, mixed with adrenaline, because this is forbidden and all kinds of insane.
Sasha unzips her jeans and Tanith wiggles out of them – they come off easy, she’s lost some weight again recently. She’s wet already between her thighs, anticipating, ready when Sasha pushes her panties aside and slides one slim finger inside, her thumb ghosting over Tanith’s clit.
Under normal circumstances, Tanith would probably disapprove, she likes to take it slow, she’s not a slut up for a quick fuck. But tonight it doesn’t matter, somehow, because she’s breaking all the other rules, anyway – and damn, does it feel good to break the rules, she concludes when Sasha begins to rub her with her thumb, not hard enough to make it hurt, just enough to make her hiss and bite her lip. And fuck, there is no choice but to be quick about this, because surely not even Johnny spends that much time applying beauty products and the thought of him walking in on them makes her face flush and her heart thump a little harder.
“More,” she whispers; a sharp intake of breath, desperate and needy. Sasha’s fingers aren’t quite as long as Evan’s, but they’ll do, Tanith’s sure, rocking her hips forward to get more of them. And then Sasha finds the perfect spot inside, the one Tanith always tries to guide Evan to, and her world blurs around her for a second when Sasha massages it with her fingertips. “Yes,” Tanith breathes through her teeth, struggling to keep quiet.
Sasha kisses her again, lying on top of her – all soft and lithe and different, but nice different. She wraps her arms around Sasha, runs her hands down her spine, scraping lightly with her nails, catlike. Sasha shivers in response and makes a small sound that gets caught in Tanith’s mouth.
Suddenly, Sasha’s fingers are gone and Tanith misses them instantly, feeling empty.
“Why-“ she begins to ask, but Sasha just grins at her and slithers lower, pulling Tanith’s panties down her thighs. One more grin and then Tanith cannot see anymore, squeezing her eyes shut almost automatically at the pleasure that crackles through her with the first tickle of Sasha’s tongue.
She’s almost forgotten how good it feels, it’s been a while – why settle for “just” this when they can do the “real” thing, go all the way, Evan usually says. Evan’s got it wrong, all wrong, Tanith thinks fervently, clawing at the bedspread with her fingers. Sasha’s tongue feels like it’s on fire, like Tanith is on fire, the quick dabs and prods and licks making her jerk her hips in sync with the rhythmic quiver inside her.
Sasha slides two fingers back in and fucks Tanith all through her orgasm, filling her up, making it even better, more complete.
Tanith feels weak afterwards, so she just lies there for a few moments, panting, her brain lazy and slow and turned to mush.
They kiss more, slow, languid strokes of tongue against tongue. Sasha’s hand is in her hair, stroking and smoothing it out and Tanith wonders if she could go to sleep now, like this – sweaty and exhausted and with Sasha’s warm body to curl into.
Sasha, she remembers and whips her head to the side, a little embarrassed, meeting Sasha’s eyes.
“You – Let me...“ she says, her throat a bit coarse, and moves her hand to Sasha’s hip, pushing at the waistband of her pants a little clumsily.
The quiet laugh startles them both – fuck, fuck, fuck, did she really forget where she was?! She scrambles to sit up and grabs for her discarded shirt, throwing it over her lap in a rather futile effort to cover herself up. How embarrassing! She blushes to the roots of her hair and throws a quick look at Johnny.
“It’s okay,” he laughs, leaning back against the wall and rolling his eyes. “I didn’t even watch too long,” he raises his arms in defense.
Tanith wants to yell at him – fucking shameless, voyeuristic little asshole – but then it occurs to her that she’s in no position to yell. She wants to yell, anyway, but resists the urge. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles instead, not meeting his eyes, because damn, he just saw her come. In his bed. “I didn’t mean, didn’t think I – “
She glances at Sasha – she’s blushing, too, but she’s also smiling to herself a little, arms crossed in front of her chest just casually, as if she didn’t care that she’s half naked. Well, she probably has a point, Tanith realizes – Johnny just saw her go down on Tanith, after all; seeing her boobs is tame by comparison.
“It’s really no big deal,” Johnny repeats with an amused smile, and when Tanith starts to apologize some more, he rolls his eyes again. “Come on, Tan. You clearly needed this – what with that boyfriend of yours, he’s never been one to care to reciprocate, so I’m not surprised you get a little... needy.” And again with that chuckle. Tanith decides that maybe she does not love Johnny, after all. And what did he mean about Evan, anyway? She feels like throwing something at him as tears threaten to spill out of her eyes. She does not cry in front of boys that aren’t Ben.
She hears Sasha snap at Johnny in Russian and he shuts up, then there’s a pat on her left shoulder (Sasha) and, a little later and a little more hesitant, a pat on her right shoulder (Johnny). There’s a kiss on her left shoulder and – Tanith turns her head, but still cannot believe her eyes – a kiss on her right shoulder.
“I’m sorry that you’re frustrated now,” Johnny says quietly, pushing her hair aside so he can drop another kiss, on her neck this time.
“Again,” Tanith sniffs. She was fine, she was so fine before Johnny decided to... well. Return to his room.
“Let’s make it better?” he offers, nuzzling her ear. And damn – damn Johnny and his vodka –Tanith shivers at the caress. “So you don’t think that I don’t reciprocate. Because I kinda did watch a while. And I enjoyed the show,” his words are punctuated by an ouch – Sasha’s just slapped him.
Good that Sasha’s still here, Tanith finds herself thinking. Because, like Evan, Johnny’s probably not very expert at the female orgasm thing, either. And because, unlike Evan, Tanith really wants to reciprocate.