Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles
Adding gloves to his costume seemed like a good idea at the time. They would add that special touch, draw attention to his hands which – Johnny knew – were the personification of grace and that expressed at least as much as the rest of his body when he skated.
Now, as he struggles with the velvet on one and illusion fabric on the other hand, trying to rid his sweaty palms of the gloves at frantic speed, he quietly curses himself for being so foolish in his quest for the perfect costume.
“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, irritated. He hears the responding chuckle and glares at Stéphane. This is not funny, damn it.
“Let me ‘elp you,” Stéphane offers and reaches out to grab Johnny’s gloved hand, but Johnny swats him away.
“No,” he says petulantly.
Stéphane shrugs, leans back against the door behind him and nearly chokes in his attempt to suppress the laughter bubbling up in his throat.
Just wait, Johnny thinks and brings his left hand to his mouth to catch the fabric with his teeth. He gives the glove a violent tug and the fucker finally moves.
He rolls it off his hand completely and unceremoniously tosses it on the lid covering the toilet. He quickly pulls off the other – velvety – one as well. He gives Stéphane a pointed look, then reaches down and – finally! – wraps his fingers around Stéphane’s cock, smiling when Stéphane gasps in response.
“Worth the wait?” he smirks. His hands – Johnny knows – are at least as skilled as they are graceful.