Funny Business, III
Funny Business, III
Johnny Weir/Stephane Lambiel, G, 391
No idea why these are progressively shorter!?!?! I am sorry! I will try to make the next one longer.
Stephane Lambiel was drunk. Like really, really drunk. Stephane Lambiel was currently wearing a cowboy hat and spinning in the middle of the dance floor, round and round, and Johnny wonders how on earth he can manage to do that even when he's not on the ice rink. Stephane's hands move in fluid patterns and he's definitely attracting heaps of attention; the other men are slowly surrounding him, and Johnny himself can’t stop staring at the way Stephane’s hips move.
Johnny only gave him two shots! He's seen girls get tipsy on two shots, not guys! And people said he was the girl. Did someone spike Stephane's drink? He glanced warily back at the man on the dance floor.
Stephane caught his eye and blew a kiss in his direction, grinning widely. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was spiking in all directions like he just rolled out of bed. Johnny had never seen him so...wild. He waved Stephane back to their booth before the Swiss managed to damage any more neurons.
"Hey," breathed Stephane, leaning over the table and bringing his face close enough to Johnny's for the American to be able to smell the vodka on his breath. Johnny flinched and Stephane collapsed into the closest chair.
"Great place," said Stephane, hands gesturing about the room, "I haven't enjoyed myself this much in ages."
"You're not going to enjoy it tomorrow morning," Johnny replied, downing the rest of his drink. "We're going home in 10 minutes."
"What?! But-"
"Seriously, Stephane, you're really drunk. High, even. I'm not taking you back to Galina's like this."
"But-"
"No buts. If you're having more fun than Johnny Weir then you're having too much, dear. I'll take you to my place so you can crash at my place."
“Do you like ladybugs? I love ladybugs. They’re so pretty…I like that word, pretty…You said I was pretty, do you remember, Johnny?”
“…No, I don’t remember.”
Stephane pouted.
"Johnny, you're pretty."
"Oh, thanks hun, but I already knew that."
"No seriously, you have nice skin. And nice eyes. And nice nose. And-"
"Okay, we're definitely going home now." Johnny had promised no funny business would happen and Johnny Weir keeps promises. He stood up.
"And a nice ass." Stephane was laughing.
Johnny made Stephane walk ahead of him as they left the bar.
Johnny Weir/Stephane Lambiel, G, 391
No idea why these are progressively shorter!?!?! I am sorry! I will try to make the next one longer.
Stephane Lambiel was drunk. Like really, really drunk. Stephane Lambiel was currently wearing a cowboy hat and spinning in the middle of the dance floor, round and round, and Johnny wonders how on earth he can manage to do that even when he's not on the ice rink. Stephane's hands move in fluid patterns and he's definitely attracting heaps of attention; the other men are slowly surrounding him, and Johnny himself can’t stop staring at the way Stephane’s hips move.
Johnny only gave him two shots! He's seen girls get tipsy on two shots, not guys! And people said he was the girl. Did someone spike Stephane's drink? He glanced warily back at the man on the dance floor.
Stephane caught his eye and blew a kiss in his direction, grinning widely. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was spiking in all directions like he just rolled out of bed. Johnny had never seen him so...wild. He waved Stephane back to their booth before the Swiss managed to damage any more neurons.
"Hey," breathed Stephane, leaning over the table and bringing his face close enough to Johnny's for the American to be able to smell the vodka on his breath. Johnny flinched and Stephane collapsed into the closest chair.
"Great place," said Stephane, hands gesturing about the room, "I haven't enjoyed myself this much in ages."
"You're not going to enjoy it tomorrow morning," Johnny replied, downing the rest of his drink. "We're going home in 10 minutes."
"What?! But-"
"Seriously, Stephane, you're really drunk. High, even. I'm not taking you back to Galina's like this."
"But-"
"No buts. If you're having more fun than Johnny Weir then you're having too much, dear. I'll take you to my place so you can crash at my place."
“Do you like ladybugs? I love ladybugs. They’re so pretty…I like that word, pretty…You said I was pretty, do you remember, Johnny?”
“…No, I don’t remember.”
Stephane pouted.
"Johnny, you're pretty."
"Oh, thanks hun, but I already knew that."
"No seriously, you have nice skin. And nice eyes. And nice nose. And-"
"Okay, we're definitely going home now." Johnny had promised no funny business would happen and Johnny Weir keeps promises. He stood up.
"And a nice ass." Stephane was laughing.
Johnny made Stephane walk ahead of him as they left the bar.