Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles
Daisuke was mad. It was not fair! He’d been better! He was being deprived of his right here! Damn these Americans and their twisted sense of individualism, their habit of boxing their way up regardless of the rules! Okay, so the rule was an unwritten one and Johnny Weir hadn’t really boxed his way anywhere, but it was Still. Not. Fair! The top two men of every Grand Prix event spent the night together (unless one of them was Russian or straight, which was practically the same thing) – that was the rule, everybody knew that. But Weir… Weir was very skilled at ignoring rules, Daisuke knew.
I should have expected this, he frowned, peering out of his hotel room door. The sight of Stéphane Lambiel knocking at Johnny Weir’s door and stepping inside a moment later – that sight made Daisuke’s precious silver feel like a worthless piece of old metal.