Paranoia for nova33
Author: outbreaksignal
Title: Paranoia
Recipient: nova33
Skaters/Pairings: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir
Rating: PG-13/R
Wordcount: 1546
Warnings: None, really - potential close to underage sex
Prompt: 2. Or a high school AU is always awesome, also. (with an added touch of hate!sex)
Disclaimer: The events portrayed in this story are fictional and do not reflect on the actual people written about.
A/N: Thanks to the person I wrote this for - you got me writing again. <3
Summary: Evan is sure that he’s losing his mind… or that Johnny Weir is out to get him.
Evan had thought he was just losing his mind at first, seeing flickers of familiar faces in the crowds, but there was only one familiar face, really. He reasoned this out as having lost his mind already, or that he was just tired from competition… He focused on smiling and sipping at the punch in his hand (mentally tallying calories and how long he would have to practice to burn them off) and on the pretty dress that his friend had decided to wear…
Okay, he wasn’t seeing faces in the crowd. Well, he was, but this face was one that should not have been in that crowd. He spit his drink back into the tiny plastic cup (how were these at all designed to be held comfortably?). His date put a hand on his arm, frowning up at him in a way that was half concerned, half a warning to not embarrass her. He’d already done that sufficiently by not knowing how to actually dance. “Evan, are you okay?”
“Fine.” The word was quickly spoken, his eyes searching the crowd for another glimpse to let him know that he had seen correctly. There was no way… Evan offered a quick smile, hoping to ease her worries over her social status - he didn’t blame her, because she’d been the only one willing enough to bring the figure skater to prom. “Hey, uh, I’ll be back, okay? Do you want me to bring you back some more punch or anything?”
Her smile seemed a little more at ease, and she nodded, giving Evan the escape he had been hoping for so that he could investigate further. He slipped out of the crowd of friends and… well, tried to integrate himself with the rest of the crowd as inconspicuously as possible, but he was a tall kid and he couldn’t help that, but he still tried to work with it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be spotted by…
Johnny.
Johnny Weir was standing not six feet away, laughing with some of the football players and cheerleaders and some of the kids who maybe didn’t belong with the ‘in-crowd’, but Evan had to admit that there was something about Johnny that brought people together, in a weird way. Whatever. Evan stared at the one person who probably - no, really should not have been there. And he kept staring until he realized that Johnny was staring back and was… closer, what the hell… He glanced behind him and realized he had walked up to Johnny without even thinking about it.
“Evan Lysacek. Fancy seeing you here,” Johnny said, ever smooth, charming, and irritating, and why the hell was he here? Evan frowned down at him for a moment, before curling long fingers around Johnny’s arm and tugging - gently, of course. “Hey, can I talk to you?”
He was sure Johnny was trying to say no, but Evan figured his height could be used to his advantage for once. Not only that, but given the fact that his fingertips were practically overlapping, Johnny probably weighed fifteen pounds less than him. Evan weaved quickly through the crowd of students, distantly hearing Johnny’s protests over the thumping bass of the music, but focused, needing to get out of sight and deal with this where no one could see. What the hell was Johnny doing here?
“The men’s bathroom… How very suitable, Evan,” Johnny drawled as the door swung shut behind the two of them, cocking out one hip and pulling his arm free of Evan’s grip. Evan felt a chill when those bright eyes settled on him unblinkingly, and his words vanished right off his tongue. Johnny pressed on, demanding as ever, those eyes still focused on him. “Is there something you wanted? A reason behind you dragging me into the bathroom, away from an interesting conversation and my friend-date?”
“You’re not just here to torture me?” Evan demanded, feeling as though the world was beginning to right itself again. Now if he could just figure out how to get Johnny out of here, away from his safe haven at home and school. Naperville should have been the one place that he could get away from the drama of the figure skating world… Johnny was looking very annoyed. Evan had definitely said the wrong thing, and he had no time to backtrack before Johnny was speaking again.
“Look, Lysacek,” growled the smaller skater, jabbing a finger sharply into Evan’s chest and, much to Evan’s horror, stepping further into his personal space, “Your life might revolve around being your royal heterosexual-self, a terror to the rest of us, but my life does not revolve around -you-. I’m here with a friend. In fact, I had no idea you would -be- here, given that you’re a junior and this is a senior prom. So keep your hands off of me, and you can pretend I’m not here, and I can pretend that you aren’t here.”
Johnny was too close and Evan was trying to tell himself that what Johnny was saying was very important, but was… was Johnny wearing gloss on his lips?
“Evan, are you even listening to me?”
“No.” Oh, shit, he did not mean to say that out loud, and judging by the look on Johnny’s face, he really should not have even thought it. Johnny looked furious, for a moment, before an odd expression came over his features instead - curious, calculating. Evan didn’t like it when cats stared at him, and this felt really similar. He tried to take a step back and Johnny followed, and he did not even get the courtesy of a second step before his back hit the sink in the relatively tiny bathroom.
“Can you tell me why you aren’t listening to me?” Johnny asked, before taking advantage of Evan’s silence. “I think I can. I think it might have something to do with you dragging me in here.”
And then Johnny was right against Evan, causing Evan’s breath to freeze in his chest, cold like the air of the rink, chilling his skin and his insides in a totally good way, but this was Johnny Weir. Johnny Weir who…
“What the fuck are you doing?” yelped Evan, bumping painfully into the sink as he tried to jump away from the hand shoving down the front of his pants. He stared at Johnny in terror, and he usually was not inclined towards violence, but that smirk made him want to smack the other skater across the face. Johnny just laughed at him, curling his thin fingers around Evan’s cock and giving a light tug, drawing out another yelp from Evan
“That’s what I thought… You could have just asked for some alone time, Evan. No need to be so… rough.” Johnny stroked his hand over Evan as best as he could, what with Evan still wearing his pants, and Evan heard himself groan as his head tilted back to thunk against the mirror behind him. He really was losing his mind, standing in this tiny bathroom with Johnny fucking Weir’s hand on his cock - not even all that well, but it still felt good - and he was not pushing him away. He was fighting for the words to protest, managing shaky mumbles that might have been, ‘Stop it, please’ or ‘Please, don’t stop’. He could not think enough to tell the difference.
Johnny’s mouth was wet on his neck, then, sucking hard, and he tried to twist away, only to have a gasp wrenched out of him by the graze of teeth over his skin. Johnny’s hand tightened on Evan’s cock and Evan groaned again, far louder than he intended to. It only encouraged Johnny, it seemed, and Evan’s pants were around his ankles before he could recognize the sound of his zipper going down. One of his hands grabbed blindly to try and pull them back up, but Johnny planted a hand on his chest and shoved him upright. “Stay there.”
Evan did not know why he listened, but he did not move again, even though he could feel the muscles in his thighs shaking, his fingers gripping the sink hard enough for them to go numb. And all the while, Johnny’s hand just kept moving, stroking his cock, thumb brushing over the head, touching, teasing, blood rushing in his ears and pounding in his chest, through his veins, he couldn’t focus on anything…
“Oh. Oh, there we go, Evan…” was purred in his ears as he finally broke, spilling over Johnny’s lithe fingers, eyes closed tightly to avoid seeing. He was still in a daze as he was pushed from the sink. The water ran - Johnny washed his hands. He still could not think. Johnny patted his hands dry, delicate as ever, and gave him a look. It was the same look Johnny gave him whenever Johnny did better at a competition. Johnny had won.
“Clean yourself up,” Johnny said, his pride evident in his voice, his victory. Evan looked at him, horrified, before scrambling to shut the door in a hurry as Johnny opened it and left. It slammed behind Johnny, and Evan gasped for breath, body trembling as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened.
He had lost his mind.
-END-
Title: Paranoia
Recipient: nova33
Skaters/Pairings: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir
Rating: PG-13/R
Wordcount: 1546
Warnings: None, really - potential close to underage sex
Prompt: 2. Or a high school AU is always awesome, also. (with an added touch of hate!sex)
Disclaimer: The events portrayed in this story are fictional and do not reflect on the actual people written about.
A/N: Thanks to the person I wrote this for - you got me writing again. <3
Summary: Evan is sure that he’s losing his mind… or that Johnny Weir is out to get him.
Evan had thought he was just losing his mind at first, seeing flickers of familiar faces in the crowds, but there was only one familiar face, really. He reasoned this out as having lost his mind already, or that he was just tired from competition… He focused on smiling and sipping at the punch in his hand (mentally tallying calories and how long he would have to practice to burn them off) and on the pretty dress that his friend had decided to wear…
Okay, he wasn’t seeing faces in the crowd. Well, he was, but this face was one that should not have been in that crowd. He spit his drink back into the tiny plastic cup (how were these at all designed to be held comfortably?). His date put a hand on his arm, frowning up at him in a way that was half concerned, half a warning to not embarrass her. He’d already done that sufficiently by not knowing how to actually dance. “Evan, are you okay?”
“Fine.” The word was quickly spoken, his eyes searching the crowd for another glimpse to let him know that he had seen correctly. There was no way… Evan offered a quick smile, hoping to ease her worries over her social status - he didn’t blame her, because she’d been the only one willing enough to bring the figure skater to prom. “Hey, uh, I’ll be back, okay? Do you want me to bring you back some more punch or anything?”
Her smile seemed a little more at ease, and she nodded, giving Evan the escape he had been hoping for so that he could investigate further. He slipped out of the crowd of friends and… well, tried to integrate himself with the rest of the crowd as inconspicuously as possible, but he was a tall kid and he couldn’t help that, but he still tried to work with it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be spotted by…
Johnny.
Johnny Weir was standing not six feet away, laughing with some of the football players and cheerleaders and some of the kids who maybe didn’t belong with the ‘in-crowd’, but Evan had to admit that there was something about Johnny that brought people together, in a weird way. Whatever. Evan stared at the one person who probably - no, really should not have been there. And he kept staring until he realized that Johnny was staring back and was… closer, what the hell… He glanced behind him and realized he had walked up to Johnny without even thinking about it.
“Evan Lysacek. Fancy seeing you here,” Johnny said, ever smooth, charming, and irritating, and why the hell was he here? Evan frowned down at him for a moment, before curling long fingers around Johnny’s arm and tugging - gently, of course. “Hey, can I talk to you?”
He was sure Johnny was trying to say no, but Evan figured his height could be used to his advantage for once. Not only that, but given the fact that his fingertips were practically overlapping, Johnny probably weighed fifteen pounds less than him. Evan weaved quickly through the crowd of students, distantly hearing Johnny’s protests over the thumping bass of the music, but focused, needing to get out of sight and deal with this where no one could see. What the hell was Johnny doing here?
“The men’s bathroom… How very suitable, Evan,” Johnny drawled as the door swung shut behind the two of them, cocking out one hip and pulling his arm free of Evan’s grip. Evan felt a chill when those bright eyes settled on him unblinkingly, and his words vanished right off his tongue. Johnny pressed on, demanding as ever, those eyes still focused on him. “Is there something you wanted? A reason behind you dragging me into the bathroom, away from an interesting conversation and my friend-date?”
“You’re not just here to torture me?” Evan demanded, feeling as though the world was beginning to right itself again. Now if he could just figure out how to get Johnny out of here, away from his safe haven at home and school. Naperville should have been the one place that he could get away from the drama of the figure skating world… Johnny was looking very annoyed. Evan had definitely said the wrong thing, and he had no time to backtrack before Johnny was speaking again.
“Look, Lysacek,” growled the smaller skater, jabbing a finger sharply into Evan’s chest and, much to Evan’s horror, stepping further into his personal space, “Your life might revolve around being your royal heterosexual-self, a terror to the rest of us, but my life does not revolve around -you-. I’m here with a friend. In fact, I had no idea you would -be- here, given that you’re a junior and this is a senior prom. So keep your hands off of me, and you can pretend I’m not here, and I can pretend that you aren’t here.”
Johnny was too close and Evan was trying to tell himself that what Johnny was saying was very important, but was… was Johnny wearing gloss on his lips?
“Evan, are you even listening to me?”
“No.” Oh, shit, he did not mean to say that out loud, and judging by the look on Johnny’s face, he really should not have even thought it. Johnny looked furious, for a moment, before an odd expression came over his features instead - curious, calculating. Evan didn’t like it when cats stared at him, and this felt really similar. He tried to take a step back and Johnny followed, and he did not even get the courtesy of a second step before his back hit the sink in the relatively tiny bathroom.
“Can you tell me why you aren’t listening to me?” Johnny asked, before taking advantage of Evan’s silence. “I think I can. I think it might have something to do with you dragging me in here.”
And then Johnny was right against Evan, causing Evan’s breath to freeze in his chest, cold like the air of the rink, chilling his skin and his insides in a totally good way, but this was Johnny Weir. Johnny Weir who…
“What the fuck are you doing?” yelped Evan, bumping painfully into the sink as he tried to jump away from the hand shoving down the front of his pants. He stared at Johnny in terror, and he usually was not inclined towards violence, but that smirk made him want to smack the other skater across the face. Johnny just laughed at him, curling his thin fingers around Evan’s cock and giving a light tug, drawing out another yelp from Evan
“That’s what I thought… You could have just asked for some alone time, Evan. No need to be so… rough.” Johnny stroked his hand over Evan as best as he could, what with Evan still wearing his pants, and Evan heard himself groan as his head tilted back to thunk against the mirror behind him. He really was losing his mind, standing in this tiny bathroom with Johnny fucking Weir’s hand on his cock - not even all that well, but it still felt good - and he was not pushing him away. He was fighting for the words to protest, managing shaky mumbles that might have been, ‘Stop it, please’ or ‘Please, don’t stop’. He could not think enough to tell the difference.
Johnny’s mouth was wet on his neck, then, sucking hard, and he tried to twist away, only to have a gasp wrenched out of him by the graze of teeth over his skin. Johnny’s hand tightened on Evan’s cock and Evan groaned again, far louder than he intended to. It only encouraged Johnny, it seemed, and Evan’s pants were around his ankles before he could recognize the sound of his zipper going down. One of his hands grabbed blindly to try and pull them back up, but Johnny planted a hand on his chest and shoved him upright. “Stay there.”
Evan did not know why he listened, but he did not move again, even though he could feel the muscles in his thighs shaking, his fingers gripping the sink hard enough for them to go numb. And all the while, Johnny’s hand just kept moving, stroking his cock, thumb brushing over the head, touching, teasing, blood rushing in his ears and pounding in his chest, through his veins, he couldn’t focus on anything…
“Oh. Oh, there we go, Evan…” was purred in his ears as he finally broke, spilling over Johnny’s lithe fingers, eyes closed tightly to avoid seeing. He was still in a daze as he was pushed from the sink. The water ran - Johnny washed his hands. He still could not think. Johnny patted his hands dry, delicate as ever, and gave him a look. It was the same look Johnny gave him whenever Johnny did better at a competition. Johnny had won.
“Clean yourself up,” Johnny said, his pride evident in his voice, his victory. Evan looked at him, horrified, before scrambling to shut the door in a hurry as Johnny opened it and left. It slammed behind Johnny, and Evan gasped for breath, body trembling as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened.
He had lost his mind.
-END-