(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!
The rules have been re-vamped for this. Please be sure to read them.
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1. We are all here to have a little fun. Am I right?
( Read more... )
"Oh, I believe you.” Weir, draped upside-down on the bed with his head nearly touching the carpet, is naked. So is Lambiel, sitting on his haunches on the bedspread, and Plushenko, leaning against the headboard with his lips pursed and arms crossed. “And I'm glad."
Brian blinks, wondering if he misunderstood. Probably - his English is pretty basic. “You are...glad?”
"You see," Weir drawls, eyes cat-wicked, "if you're not gay, that means you haven't done this before. And if you haven't done this before, you are a virgin." His sudden grin is pretty fucking creepy. "And if you are a virgin, I am very interested."
"Johnny." Lambiel sounds annoyed.
"What?"
"You are scaring him."
"No I'm not."
Lambiel pulls Weir back onto the bed and rolls him into Plushenko's lap. "Do not be mean."
"I wasn't," Weir snaps. "Jesus actual Gaga, it's not like I'm going to rape him or whatever. I just - "
"Johnny," Plushenko says, and nothing else.
Weir shuts up. He gives Brian another cat look before settling - snuggling, really - into Plushenko's arms.
Lambiel looks at Brian, one eyebrow arched.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he says, in French. He's almost murmuring. “No one will be angry or anything.”
"I very like if you stay," Plushenko offers. He’s stroking Weir’s hair. His French is awful. "And you like also."
Weir giggles and curls his tongue out, drawing obscene patterns in the air. Lambiel gives him a warning look.
“I,” Brian stutters, “I'm very flattered that you asked me - ”
“Think of it as stress relief,” Lambiel says. He puts his elbows on the bed and leans his chin against both hands, legs kicked up. “It won’t mean anything if you don’t let it.”
“Zhenya here is married,” Weir says cheerfully. “If you’re worried about being gay, you can pretend you’re vicariously fucking his wife.”
Brian is not entirely sure what "vicariously" means, but he hasn't got much time to wonder about the word: Plushenko slaps Weir across the face, and he is pretty fucking sure that Weir just got harder.
Lambiel sees him being pretty fucking sure, and sighs.
“They’re insane,” he says, and snaps his leg back, kicking Plushenko in the arm. “Ignore them. I won’t let them touch you if you don't want. That is,” and he doesn’t look very hopeful, “if you stay.”
Brian notices that Plushenko is doing...he is doing something to Weir. He does not know what, because he can't see either of Plushenko's hands, but Weir's cocky grin is fading into something raw and wanton, and he's hard enough that Brian's own dick starts stirring in sympathy.
Plushenko catches his eye and smiles placidly. Weir gives a sudden shriek and collapses into giggles. "Zhenya, you are so - "
"Do you want to stay?" Lambiel interrupts. "Hm? Stay? Leave?" He hesitates. "You just want to watch?"
Brian swallows. His throat is dry again.
"Stay," he mumbles.
Lambiel's dark eyes are unreadable. "You sure?"
Brian nods.
"Just watching?"
Just watching. They're all watching him, big silent owls. Brian feels small and hot and embarrassed.
"Well?" Lambiel sits back up on his haunches. He really does have a beautiful body. "Just watching?"
"No," Brian says. "I, I want...to..."
He stops, blushing so deeply that he thinks he might literally be on fire.
"You don't have to say," Lambiel says, smiling gently. "We'll figure it out."
He pats the bed, and Brian, his mind churning like an angry sea, sits.
This is probably a bad idea.
Oh well.
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but yes, MOAR PLZ.
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OT4! OT4!
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OMG, this was absolutely amazing anon.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH. THIS IS AWESOME.
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brb I need a moment alone
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hottest thing i've read in ages
please continue before we all explode from tension and splatter blood and guts all over our computers
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FETCH THE SMELLING SALTS, EUNICE.
PLEASE WRITE MORE I AM ACTUALLY BEGGING YOU OMG UNF CITYYYYYY.
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Please anon. It would be the best idea ever if you continued this.
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~
"You've never done this before?"
Brian is naked (god, that was fast) and bright red, kneeling up between Lambiel's legs. Lambiel's eyes are on his, soft and calm, and he's gently rubbing his hands down Brian's back.
"No."
"Nothing like this, even?" Lambiel slides a finger down Brian's cleft. "Ever?"
"I've, I've, I've..." Brian swallows. He's quivering, but he can't decide if it's from lust or tension. "I've never had sex with a guy."
"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Weir chirps, and Brian turns his head to look down at him.
Weir is sitting cross-legged on the floor, having been banished there by Lambiel. Plushenko is standing a few feet away, arms crossed, lube bottle in one hand, nibbling his lower lip like he's trying to solve a math problem. "I've known lots of girls who like stickin' it to the man."
Brian chokes despite himself.
"Hey, Brian..." Weir leans forward, creepy smile back in full force. "You know, I'd expect - French chicks are freaks in the sack. Like, total insane freaks. And not once did they ever try this stuff on you? Hmm?"
"Johnny," Plushenko says. His voice is razor-edged velvet.
"I'm just asking," Weir pouts, pretending to look innocent. "I mean, seriously, every French girl I've ever been with has gone for my ass so quickly that - "
Lambiel shifts his gaze over Brian's shoulder.
Weir shuts up.
"So." Lambiel puts a hand on Brian's chin and gently pushes until they are face-to-face again. "You are gorgeous."
Behind them, Brian can hear Plushenko moving. Weir suddenly squeals.
Lambiel catches Brian's face before he can look back again.
"I would let you watch them," he says, and his smooth hands go back to the rubbing, "but I think this is a bit much for you already. Hm?"
Brian tries to catch his breath. He's so frazzled and unsure, but he's also hungry for this in a way he didn't know he could be. If Plushenko and Weir were the only ones here...
"Brian?" The hands pause halfway up Brian's back. "Are you all right?"
But Lambiel's here too, all calm eyes and gentle hands and magical ability to get Weir to stop talking, and at the same time he's not trying to kiss or anything. This is okay. Stress relief, he tells himself. Stress relief.
"Brian."
"I want you to fuck me," Brian says.
Lambiel doesn't even blink.
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