Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles


Fan Mail
~by Estriel~
For the weir.ru girls

Jen tak pro informaci: Johnny Weir (USA), Evan Lysacek (USA) oba přijeli na finále Grand Prix v roce 2006 v Petrohradě. Evan si zranil bok při tréninku před krátkým programem a odstoupil během rozbruslení. Johnny se zranil při pádu ve svém krátkém programu a následující den (před volnou jízdou), musel rovněž odstoupit.
Inspirováno přáním, které Johnny skutečně dostal po krátkém programu od dvou svých fanynek. :)

~*~


Johnny bolts up beside Evan, nearly giving him a heart attack.
"Oh my god!" he blurts into the silence of the dark hotel room.

"What happened?" Evan sits up, alarmed, and places a soothing hand on Johnny's back.

"I just realized that I haven't even read the cards I got from my fans yet!" Johnny exclaims and starts untangling himself from the sheets.
Evan drops back onto the bed with a sigh. Then he notices Johnny's attempts to scramble out of bed, hears the silent hiss of pain when Johnny turns in an unfortunate angle, twisting his hip.

"Lay down," Evan commands, pushing Johnny back onto the mattress. "You're injured, you should not move."

Johnny opens his mouth to protest, but Evan cuts him off. "I'll bring you the cards."
"You're injured, too," Johnny peeps, but doesn't stop Evan when he gets up and walks over to the table flooded with flowers and toy Cheburashkas.
Evan rummages through the fan gifts, fishing out cards and letters, then returns to the bed, switches on the small bedside lamp, and sits down next to Johnny, pressing a hand onto his chest to prevent him from sitting up again.

"Lie still. I'll read them out to you," he smiles at Johnny, then turns his attention to the cards. "This one is in Russian, we'll leave that for later," he announces when he opens the first letter. He carefully places it onto his bedside table – out of Johnny's reach – and proceeds to the next card.
"Dear Johnny, you are the best! Good luck! We love you!" he reads out, then hands the cutely decorated card over to Johnny. He watches Johnny smile fondly as he runs his fingers over the glittery flower-print on the cover. Johnny sets it aside carefully, then looks up at Evan expectantly.

Evan opens the next card and squints at the small handwriting.
"Weir, we have only three things to tell you," he reads out, lifting his eyebrows at the unusual beginning. "First – " Evan stops and gasps in surprise. "Oh my…"

"What? What does it say?" Johnny scoots closer to him, curious.

"First – you have the most shaggable ass, sweetie!" Evan reads out, incredulous.

Johnny giggles next to him and mutters something that sounds suspiciously close to that's so true.
"And?" he then inquires, urging Evan to continue.

"Second – my mom said that you are –" Evan shakes his head, then shoots Johnny an apologetic look. "Sorry, babe, it's in Russian, I can't read it."

Johnny pouts.

"But there's one more thing they want to tell you," Evan quickly informs Johnny to cheer him up. He looks back onto the card. "Thirdly – marry – Oh my god! Your fans…" Evan gapes at the card in his hands.

"What. Does. It. Say?" Johnny squirms impatiently, reaching out in an attempt to grab the card.

"It says… I can't believe it," Evan shakes his head, holding the card high above his head so that Johnny can't snatch it away from him.

"Read out or give it to me!" Johnny glares at him and starts moving to sit up again.

"Okay, okay. Lie still. I'll read," Evan says quickly, intent to make Johnny stay as still as possible. "It says – marry Lysacek and you'll both be blessed."

There's silence for a few moments, then Johnny bursts out laughing.

"Your fans are pervs, Weir!" Evan tells him, blushing.

It takes several minutes before Johnny stops laughing and catches his breath. Then he props himself up on one elbow and looks up at Evan.
"No, they're not," he smiles and leans closer. "They just know what's good for me," he says softly and presses his lips against Evan's, curling his hands around his neck.

~fin~


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