Ficlet: "Tight! See-through! Sparkly!" (Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir)
Reading a translation of your own fic is one of the strangest things in the world. It’s surprising how different everything sounds, although the only thing that has been changed is the language. Thanks to Gilraen, though, I now know how to say to come (in the sexual sense) in Russian. I also found out how to say fuck, but I forgot, because the word is a bit too complicated for my taste. She translated The Final Night into Russian, which I consider one of the better FS fics I’ve written so far. I’m currently in a state of hating most of the things I’ve written recently and I want to get back to… basics. ;)
But before I do that, here’s one silly thing, which is a result of a discussion Gil and I had last night, about Johnny, Evan and Evan’s costumes. It was written solely for amusement, so don’t expect deep thought, realistic characterization, plot, or any of the other things that usually make up a good fic. With that said… enjoy the sparkly:
Title: Tight! See-through! Sparkly! (or The Things We Do For Love)
Pairing: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is fiction, which means that none of this ever happened and I made it up completely.
Summary: Ever wondered why Evan skated in this
during the Champions on Ice tour?
A/N: For Gilraen. Un-betaed, so bear with my mistakes, please.
Tight! See-through! Sparkly! (or 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.
“Know what?”
“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?
~fin
I keep trying to persuade myself that I'm fine... when in fact I'm scared of what's coming. The Bachelor thesis is the main thing. Oh god. It makes me wanna jump of a cliff - and I haven't even begun with it, or chosen a topic. I hope that in the end it will be a lot easier than I think it will and I'll laugh about how worried I was.
Me and my brother are home alone today, our mom went to Prague with some of her students. It was nice, we had lunch together, he warmed it up while I prepared the vegetables, then we started discussing the USA somehow and spend a while looking through a map. I showed him where exactly I will be and where I'd like to go etc. And then we laughed at how there's practically nothing in Canada beyond a certain line, like no cities or anything, and I was like well duh! it's damn cold in Canada! Then we looked at maps of places like Tibet and Saudi-Arabia and laughed some more over silly things. I helped him with some school-stuff and then we watched a short documentary about decadence in New York City (it was crazy!)...
Then I went for a walk, which turned out to be a lot shorter than I had planned, because the sun stopped shining by the time I left the house and suddenly I didn't feel like walking around too much. I had wanted to wear my new skirt, but I couldn't find the shoes I wanted to wear with it (they're probably still in a box somewhere in the attic) and it was a bit cold, so I decided against it... So yeah, since I didn't have my skirt and the weather wasn't so nice anymore, I just returned home. Here are two pics I took:
But before I do that, here’s one silly thing, which is a result of a discussion Gil and I had last night, about Johnny, Evan and Evan’s costumes. It was written solely for amusement, so don’t expect deep thought, realistic characterization, plot, or any of the other things that usually make up a good fic. With that said… enjoy the sparkly:
Title: Tight! See-through! Sparkly! (or The Things We Do For Love)
Pairing: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is fiction, which means that none of this ever happened and I made it up completely.
Summary: Ever wondered why Evan skated in this
during the Champions on Ice tour?
A/N: For Gilraen. Un-betaed, so bear with my mistakes, please.
Tight! See-through! Sparkly! (or 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.
“Know what?”
“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?
~fin
I keep trying to persuade myself that I'm fine... when in fact I'm scared of what's coming. The Bachelor thesis is the main thing. Oh god. It makes me wanna jump of a cliff - and I haven't even begun with it, or chosen a topic. I hope that in the end it will be a lot easier than I think it will and I'll laugh about how worried I was.
Me and my brother are home alone today, our mom went to Prague with some of her students. It was nice, we had lunch together, he warmed it up while I prepared the vegetables, then we started discussing the USA somehow and spend a while looking through a map. I showed him where exactly I will be and where I'd like to go etc. And then we laughed at how there's practically nothing in Canada beyond a certain line, like no cities or anything, and I was like well duh! it's damn cold in Canada! Then we looked at maps of places like Tibet and Saudi-Arabia and laughed some more over silly things. I helped him with some school-stuff and then we watched a short documentary about decadence in New York City (it was crazy!)...
Then I went for a walk, which turned out to be a lot shorter than I had planned, because the sun stopped shining by the time I left the house and suddenly I didn't feel like walking around too much. I had wanted to wear my new skirt, but I couldn't find the shoes I wanted to wear with it (they're probably still in a box somewhere in the attic) and it was a bit cold, so I decided against it... So yeah, since I didn't have my skirt and the weather wasn't so nice anymore, I just returned home. Here are two pics I took: