Merry Month of Masturbation - Day 20
My MMOM Master List 2010 Title: Strangest Meetings
Author: Beren
Fandom: Figure Skating RPS
Pairing: Johnny - solo
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Warnings: semi-explicit sex
Summary: Johnny is tired and seriously considering giving up, but a chance encounter gives him a new world view to consider.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 2,961
My Fanfic Listings (LJ) |
My Fanfic Listings (DreamW) Johnny was tired, not just physically, but mentally. He smiled in all the right places, tried his best to say the right things, but it was mostly an act. The Olympics had hit him harder than he had let anyone know; all that pain, all that work and the judges didn't seem to care. He didn't fit the mould so he didn't get the marks. He actually wasn't bitchy enough to really believe Evan hadn't deserved the gold; his programs had been stunning, but he also didn't think that he was that much worse than Evan; different yes, worse no.
People kept asking him if he was going to skate next season and he honestly didn't know. He loved the ice, he really did, and he loved his fans, but competition took so much and he wasn't thinking of the physical requirements either. What worried him most was how he felt inside. If he had another season where he felt he out skated everything he had done before and the judges ignored him, it might well kill him.
"You look sad," said a voice very close to his left and he turned, staring at the man he found standing there.
He stepped back, not that there was anywhere to go, since he was on a hotel balcony, six storeys up and it wasn't that big. It seemed impossible the man was there at all.
"Where did you come from?" he demanded, looking at the open balcony door and into his room, but the main door was still closed.
"Three floors up and two rooms to the right," the man replied with a pleasant smile; "I was taking the night air and I saw you. You radiate pain."
Johnny looked up and across, not really believing what he was being told, but having trouble finding any other explanation either.
"Perhaps this will help you to believe," his companion said and then opened his mouth, flashing some very obvious fangs.
The wall of the balcony hit Johnny in the back as he reacted on instinct and stepped back further so fast that he collided with it hard. His brain screamed 'not possible', but his senses knew what they had seen.
"I merely wished to illustrate how I came from there to here," the man, or rather vampire said in a pleasant tone, "please do not be afraid, I intend you no harm."
Johnny's heart was beating a mile a minute and he was beginning to question his sanity, so he had no response to that. He was standing on a hotel balcony with a vampire; his life could be no more fucked up. Either he was going to find himself strapped to a bed in a nice sanatorium in the near future, or the world was a much stranger place than he had ever really believed: he wasn't sure which idea he preferred.
"My name is Valentin," the vampire introduced himself with a small bow; "I was worried you might attempt to do yourself harm, so I chose to make myself known."
Looking down, Johnny could see the ground a long way away and he could see Valentin's point.
"I wasn't going to jump," he said, not sure why he was even speaking to what was either a figment of a disturbed mind or possibly a creature who wanted to eat him; "I'm just worn down."
Valentin smiled at him sympathetically.
"The world is often not made for sensitive souls," were the philosophical words that came back at him, "but, I can tell you this, it holds much beauty. Many years ago I too was filled with pain and despondency, so I chose to seek out the love and joy in the world."
That really didn't sound like any vampire Johnny had ever heard of, so he said so, and Valentin actually laughed at him.
"We are not the monsters superstition would make us out to be," Valentin told him in a very good natured way. "I need drink only a few mouthfuls of blood per day to survive and my tastes run far more to chocolate and champagne. I have a travelling companion who supplies my needs, I believe he is out clubbing at the moment. No doubt he will crawl in at some god forsaken hour and I shall have to wait until his hangover is dealt with before I can have breakfast."
Johnny was beginning to think that either he had a subconscious that could earn him a living as a writer, or Valentin really was standing there.
"What love and joy are you seeking here?" he asked, unable to resist the temptation to find out more.
"Oh," Valentin said, seemingly delighted that he finally asked a question, "my friend, Michael, he has a new interest and there is an exhibition on in this city. I myself do not know much about it, but if it makes him happy it makes me happy. He has been on the computer so much lately and he will not stop talking about it, so I had to bring him. He has been trying to make me watch Youtube videos for months now, but I prefer to witness something live for the first time."
Youtube and vampires, not a combination Johnny had ever considered before. Also, it all was very nice to know, but Valentin had not yet revealed what this exhibition was.
"And your friend's obsession would be?" Johnny asked politely.
"My apologies," Valentin said and gave a small bow, "I always get ahead of myself; figure skating."
Johnny laughed; it wasn't as if there was anything else he could do.
"And you've never seen figure skating before?" he asked, trying to work out what Valentin was up to.
"No," Valentin said, smiling and seemingly pleased that he had managed to make Johnny laugh, "I have not. I have seen many forms of dance and many forms of sport, but this is not one I have chosen to investigate before. Michael has been very insistent, however, he says it is beautiful and I will love the pretty girls and the pretty boys. Sometimes I believe he thinks I am shallow."
Despite the suspicion that he might be going crazy, Johnny found himself liking Valentin. Before he could talk himself out of it he acted on instinct.
"Do you want to come in," he invited and indicated his room.
"Thank you," Valentin said with a beaming smile and stepped through the glass doors.
"Drink?" Johnny offered as he walked in behind the vampire.
"Anything would be fine," was the pleasant response and Johnny busied himself fixing Valentin a white wine from the mini-bar and took a bottle of mineral water for himself.
When he handed the glass to Valentin he saw the vampire raise an eyebrow.
"Not joining me?" Valentin asked, accepting the drink.
"Not tonight," Johnny replied and folded himself into a chair, "I am performing tomorrow and a hangover would be bad."
Valentin seemed to find that fascinating.
"Ah," the vampire said, "you have the soul of an artist, now I understand how you radiate such pain. What do you do?"
Johnny smiled at that and took a sip of his water.
"I'm a figure skater," he replied, feeling just a little lighter.
Valentin's face was a picture.
"You are in the exhibition?" Valentin asked and sounded genuinely excited.
It seemed so bizarre that a vampire would be that enthusiastic about something he knew nothing about. Johnny nodded and found that his spirits were just a little higher than they had been.
"My name's Johnny Weir," he explained, just in case it might mean something to the other man.
From the expression on Valentin's face, it did and the vampire said something in a language that sounded Eastern European, but Johnny didn't know which one except that it wasn't Russian.
"Michael is going to kill me," Valentin said and appeared more like an excited teenager than the old vampire he claimed to. "You are the reason we are here. I cannot believe this; that will teach me to pay attention to what Michael is trying to show me. You are the reason for Michael's obsession; he watched the Olympics on television."
Johnny felt a slight stab of pain at the mention of the Olympics, but it was overshadowed by Valentin's apparent enthusiasm.
"I have never heard him rant so long about what he called 'moronic imbeciles who couldn't see class and sophistication if it jumped up and bit them'," Valentin told him. "He firmly believes you were cheated of a medal and when I finally offered to take him to an exhibition he insisted on this one."
"Thank you," Johnny said, feeling just a little embarrassed by the vampire's clear delight.
He found his spirits beginning to lift more than just a little.
"Could I possibly have your autograph" Valentin asked and Johnny found himself genuinely laughing, "Michael would love us both forever?"
Being asked for his autograph by a vampire had to be the ultimate.
"How about you come backstage after the show tomorrow," Johnny offered, since it was the least he could do after having his mood so completely changed, "and I can give it to him in person?"
Valentin looked like he might die of happiness, which, given that he was a vampire, was even more amusing.
"You are even more wonderful than Michael keeps telling me," Valentin said with a huge smile, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
Seeing other people happy always made Johnny feel happy too; it was how he could get through the rough patches in his life and Valentin was all but buzzing with joy, so he could not help but smile widely as well.
"You've cheered me up," Johnny admitted honestly, "I am just returning the favour."
"I think, Johnny," Valentin said with a smile, "that you will more than cheer up my dear Michael. I cannot promise that he will not explode with delight."
"As long as he explodes with glitter, that will be fine," Johnny replied and felt genuinely happy.
They began talking then and Valentin was incredibly open about his life and what he did. Johnny found it amazing and he kept asking questions and, if anything, Valentin's life was inspiring. It seemed Valentin was a patron of the arts as well as a follower and Johnny managed to wheedle out of him that he was a big charity giver as well. They had picked up Johnny's laptop pretty quickly and Johnny had Valentin show him all the wonderful things he had seen, or at least the ones that had websites. Valentin also made Johnny tell him more about himself, but he figured fair was fair and Valentin managed to do what no one else, not even his mother, had been able to achieve; he talked him into competing for the next season. Given how long Valentin had lived (he had admitted to being 480 years old) and how much pain and misery he had seen in the world, Johnny's problems seemed so small and the vampire's philosophy of finding all the possible joy in life gave him new things to think about. Valentin was so easy to talk to and before Johnny realised it, it was four in the morning.
"Oh shit," he said as he glanced at the time, "I have to be up at seven. I am going to be dead."
"My friend, I am so sorry," Valentin apologised immediately, "I was having so much fun I did not realise the time."
"Me either," Johnny replied with a smile; it wasn't as if it was Valentin's fault. "Sorry if I fall over in one of my numbers."
"That will not do," Valentin said shaking his head; "I could not live with myself if I caused you embarrassment."
It really was very sweet how his new friend seemed so anxious.
"Don't worry about it," Johnny assured him and patted his arm where they were sitting side by side on the bed; "I've skated on less sleep. If Lysacek can do it, so can I."
Valentin did not appear swayed by his argument.
"Perhaps," Valentin said, clearly a little unsure with what he was about to suggest, "I could help?"
Johnny was not sure what the vampire was getting at.
"How?" he asked, since he was pretty sure vampires could not roll back time.
"My blood," Valentin told him and was obviously waiting for Johnny to recoil in horror; "it has rejuvenating and energising properties. It is how Michael can donate blood to me every day without being exhausted all the time. It only requires a drop."
That idea had no entered Johnny's head.
"So vampire blood doesn't make you a vampire?" he asked, not really sure what was being offered.
"No," Valentin said, relaxing a little when he had not run away screaming, "to create another vampire takes far more effort."
Johnny felt touched at the offer.
"And you'd seriously give me some, just because you kept me up until four in the morning?" he still found himself making sure.
At the beginning of the evening Johnny would have been thinking crazy man with a blood fetish, but he had been talking to Valentin far too long and far too personally to think anything of the sort.
"It would prevent Michael trying to kill me in my sleep for having impaired your performance," Valentin said with a small smile.
Johnny decided that maybe he was crazy, but he wasn't the kind of person to run away from things.
"Okay," he said, "how could I refuse?"
Valentin smiled at him brightly.
"Do you perhaps have a sharp knife or a pin?" the vampire asked and Johnny stood up and walked over to his dresser.
He came back with a hat pin from his makeup bag.
"Perfect," Valentin said and without further ado, skewered his index finger with the sharp point.
When the vampire held his hand out to Johnny, he almost balked, but it seemed rude, so he carefully took hold of the offered finger and very daintily licked the drop of blood off the end. It tasted just like the time he had managed to bite his tongue and for a moment he was quite disappointed.
"Oh," he said after a moment and he felt a kind of tingling moving through his body.
It was really rather strange.
"Oh," he said again as the tingling hit his brain and he felt a bit like he was on a sugar high and a caffeine buzz at the same time.
"Oh god," he said and sat down as every nerve in his body lit up for a split second and suddenly his senses all seemed sharper, he was totally awake and he felt like he could sprint to the arena and back again without being tired.
"Breathe slowly," Valentin told him gently; "the rush will pass and then you will just feel good."
Johnny did as he was told and the rush did indeed begin to fade, although he still felt better than he had done, well possibly ever, but he began to notice that there was one thing that was not fading at all. What with all the other sensations running through his body he hadn't noticed it at first, but he was now sporting a very definite hard on. That was a little unexpected and he couldn't help himself, he looked down.
"Ah yes," Valentin said and smiled at him, "sometimes it causes that reaction as well. Michael always seems to enjoy it."
It was difficult to come up with something to say to that.
"Um, thanks," was about all that came to mind.
"You're welcome," Valentin replied cheerfully and stood up. "I very much look forward to the exhibition, but now, I am afraid I must go and check to see if my young friend has returned yet. Thank you very much for a delightful evening."
"Yeah, you too," Johnny replied, still a little distracted by the erection that did not seem to want to go away.
"You will probably not be able to sleep," Valentin explained to him, "but that is perfectly normal. You will probably not be tired again until late this evening, but I am sure you can find something to occupy yourself until you need to be up."
The way Valentin grinned at him, Johnny knew exactly what the vampire was suggesting.
"Dirty old man," was what he said and Valentin laughed at him.
"I would offer my assistance," Valentin replied, "but if I were to do these things without Michael he would attempt to remove my balls with a rusty scythe, so I shall bid you good night."
"See you tomorrow," Johnny replied and stayed sitting on the bed while Valentin left the room, via the balcony.
Johnny had the self control to stand up, close the balcony and the curtains and get back to the bed, before he was shimmying out of his pants and underwear and wrapping his hand round his cock.
"Oh god," he said, lying on the bed and spreading his legs as the most wonderful sensations ran through him, "damn vampire Viagra."
It wasn't the best orgasm of his life, but it was close, and so was the next one, and the next one and the one after that. By the time he was actually supposed to be getting out of bed, he was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to skate with his hand down his pants, or possibly just beg someone to blow him in the locker room. Stéphane didn't usually object to helping him out and he was suddenly even gladder that they were in another show together.
The End