Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Povídky
The Things We Do For Love
“Evan?“ Johnny steps out of the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe, and something about the way he drawls out his name makes Evan suspect that he’s up to no good.
“Mhm?” he looks up from the magazine he’s flipping through.
“Do you love me?” Johnny asks and flops onto the bed next to Evan, then crawls onto him, settling on his lower back and running his hands up Evan’s spine.
Evan closes the magazine.
“Of course.” He turns his head, trying to see Johnny, who is now giving him a back-rub. “I love you,” he says just to be on the safe side. You never know with Johnny.
“Do you trust me?” Johnny continues and leans down to kiss the nape of his neck, then presses his chest against Evan’s back.
“Of course I trust you. What is this, Johnny?” He asks, alarmed. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“No, no.” He can feel Johnny smile against his nape. “And you’d do anything to make me happy?” Johnny meows.
“Yeah, I guess I would,” he answers and it’s the truth, for he’d do pretty much anything to make sure the kitten on his back is happy and well. “As long as anything excludes letting you win in competition or, you know, something equally crazy,” he adds, though he knows Johnny would never ask for something like that. His pride wouldn’t let him.
“Let me design your exhibition costume,” Johnny asks sweetly, nuzzling Evan’s hair, and Evan wonders whether letting Johnny win in competition really would be the worst thing he could ever ask of him.
“I think it’s time to start thinking about some new outfit.” Frank suggests over the phone. “You’ll be doing the tour this year…” he adds cautiously. He knows Evan’s distaste for costume fittings.
“Umm… I’ve already arranged things. Someone’s designing a costume for me,” Evan says and he’s glad that his coach can’t see the guilty blush on his face. Frank would kill him if he knew who is responsible for his costume.
“You have?” Frank sounds surprised. “That’s… good! Very good!” He’s probably very relieved that he won’t have to go through the typical ‘I hate this! – You need a costume! – I can keep my old one. – It doesn’t match the program.’ routine
“Um, yeah,” Evan mutters in response and wonders what he got himself into.
“I hate this,” he frowns when Johnny positions him in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers and starts taking his measures, scribbling down the numbers on a post-it.
“Oh!” he gasps in the next moment as Johnny trails his tongue along his thigh, from knee to hipbone, licking what he’s just measured. “I’m never going back to my old designer!”
“What… Is this… Johnny, you –“
“Shut up and try it on!”
“But it – “
“You won’t know how good it looks until you put it on!” Johnny exclaims and ushers him into the bedroom, shoving the… the thing into his arms and closing the door behind him.
Evan stares at his reflection in the mirror and is speechless. It’s Johnny who breaks the silence.
“Your ass looks even better in this than I imagined,” he says excitedly, examining the way his creation fits Evan’s body.
“Johnny, it’s… it’s tight,” he manages, his voice a little higher than usual.
Johnny ignores him and moves forward to smooth a tiny crease on one black sleeve.
“And it’s… half of it is see-through!” Evan fidgets in the costume, rolls his shoulders uncomfortably. “I can see my fucking nipple!”
“Don’t be a prude,” Johnny utters from behind Evan where he’s fiddling with the zipper on the bodysuit.
“AND IT HAS RHINESTONES ON IT!” Evan cries out, desperate.
“Well DUH,” Johnny peeks out from behind his back and rolls his eyes at his reflection in the mirror. “Evan, this is figure skating. Tight, see-through, and sparkly are required elements.”
“Everybody’s going to know if I skate in this,” Evan turns to face Johnny, panicking.
“That I sleep with Johnny Weir.”
“Well… They’ll know you have taste in something at least,” Johnny winks at him and shrugs as if he didn’t give a damn about Evan’s exasperation.
“I’m not wearing this,” he says resolutely and reaches behind himself to undo the zipper.
“You’ve got nothing else to skate in,” Johnny croons.
“Then I’ll skate naked!” he snaps, pulling the sparkly black fabric off.
“Even better!” Johnny claps his hands. “I’m sure your dick will look splendid in spins!”
“Shut up,” Evan mutters and starts a frantic search for his phone. When he finally finds it, he quickly dials a number and presses it to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Johnny asks, tipping his head to the side curiously.
“My designer,” he says and watches Johnny pout. “Hi Martha! It’s Evan. Lysacek. I know it’s a bit late, but I was wondering if you could – Oh. Oh. I see. I’m sorry about that. No, no problem at all, don’t worry. Get well soon.”
“And?” Johnny inquires.
“She’s not working. She fell off her horse and broke an arm. She can’t make a costume for me,” he sighs, looking down at the skin-tight velvet still draped over his thighs.
“Aww, poor Martha,” Johnny says and pats Evan’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s either the beautiful, elegant costume I designed… or your skin.” He gives him an innocent smile and Evan asks himself how on Earth he ended up with such an evil boyfriend. “You choose,” Johnny ads and dances off towards the bathroom.
“I’m skating in my track pants!” Evan shouts after him, then hides his face in his palms. What did I do to deserve this?