(Untitled)
2010 Winter Games Kink Meme
Part 2
I never really expected this to take off so well, let alone end up with 4000+ comments. Now it's time for part 2!
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1. We are all here to have a little fun. Am I right?
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He feels most disgusted with Lysacek. Weir is clearly a disgusting, corrupted soul, bent on converting the world to his degenerate lifestyle, and a lost cause in terms of salvation. But Lysacek should have known better. He was brought up Christian, wasn't he? Well, Greek Orthodox, anyway. Still and all. Man shall not lie with man translates the same no matter what the language. Was he unclear on that part?
Scott shivers and realizes the water has gone cold. He turns off the taps and steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his midsection.
A few hours earlier, at dinner, he made sure his family heard a special prayer of his, during Grace, praying for "those who have followed false prophets in the name of the pleasures of the flesh," and although he's not sure the kids got his meaning, he really didn't appreciate the look he got from his wife. He's going to have to have a chat with her about respecting his authority.
Scott looks in the mirror, wiping his face off with a hand towel. He looks good. Clean. Righteous. He did nothing wrong, other than witness an abomination.
Then why does he still feel so dirty?
***
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When Scott saw them, he'd been rooted to the spot, unable to move. Frozen in shock. And then Weir - why couldn't he call himself John? Why "Johnny," as if he were still a child? - had opened his eyes, seen Scott standing there, and smiled and winked at him. Winked. Revolting.
What was there to wink about, anyway? It was true that in the past, Scott had felt some impure urges. All men are tempted by Satan at some point in their lives, especially in his line of work. So many of the wrong sort of men, drawn like flies to all the glitter and showmanship. Scott couldn't say some of them hadn't seemed appealing at the time, especially Orser. Orser, who'd now gone public with his obscene lifestyle choices, and was probably leading that poor Korean girl he coached down the path to acceptance of sin. Good thing she wasn't a boy, probably.
Still, it had been more appealing to beat Orser - repeatedly - than had the temptation to engage in sexual deviance with him. Every time he did so was another step in bringing this sport back into the Lord's path. It annoyed Scott when Boitano started beating Orser instead, but he was another family man. Married, three children. It was possible to choose after all, no matter what the liberals say.
He just didn't understand how Boitano couldn't see that Weir and his ilk weren't just bad for the sport, they were bad for the entire country. Good, fine, upstanding young men would see this girlish creature in his gauzy costumes and think they'd rather play hockey or speed skate instead, and then where would the sport be? A ton of 16-year-old girls and a couple of prancing, glitzy little... well. Not clean-cut, strong, healthy young men like Evan, that was for sure.
What a handsome young man, that Evan. Strong, tall, well-built. Those dark eyes and hair. That made-for-television smile. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. He would be even more perfect if he'd come to Scott for guidance, reach out his hand and...
No. NO. Scott fists his hands in the bedsheets, gritting his teeth. He hasn't felt this way in years. Why is he being tempted now? What has he done to offend God, that He has brought this curse back?
***
When Scott finally falls asleep, his dreams are even more restless and disturbing. Visions of walking in on the same scene again and again, except that Johnny whispers to Evan that he's there and Evan looks him in the eye. Brazen, unashamed. Smiling, even. He tries to plead with him, reason with him, but he's struck mute, can't get a word out.
And then Johnny disappears and Scott's the one riding Evan, feeling that burn and fullness and intense pleasure inside him, that he remembers from that one time in Sarajevo when he was weak and surrendered to his body's foolish desires, and Evan's coaxing him on, encouraging him, telling him how beautiful he looks, that everything he feels is all right...
Scott wakes up panting, rock-hard, the sheets plastered to his skin with sweat. He changes his pajamas, goes downstairs for a glass of water, and doesn't attempt to sleep again that night.
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***
He isn't able to look at either of them in the eye for the rest of his time in Vancouver. Pretty much everything he has to say for TV is either scripted or "strongly encouraged," so that's a no-brainer. But his casual interactions with Lysacek involve handshakes and small talk, and he tries to avoid Weir whenever possible. Not hard, since he didn't place higher than sixth. Even Scott was shocked at that underscoring, but he supposes even judges have to make a stand for traditional values.
What he really can't stand is the way Dorothy looks at him. As if she knows the turmoil he's going through and wants to discuss it with him, when there's clearly nothing to discuss. He's handling it, and she should look to her own business. The other commentators he can handle, but not one who looks at him with those caring, understanding eyes, as though she could presume to know his torment.
He's going to have to have a long talk with God about all of this, as much for Evan's sake as for his own. There's no choice. Their salvation depends on it.
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(may be colouring my reality as I write this, too xD)
Oh, and EVEN SCOTT SEES IT, THE UNDERSCORING >.
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*Claps* This was just perfect and wonderfully written. Thank you so much!
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