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2010 Winter Games Kink Meme
Figure Skating Post!
Only figure skating/ice dancing prompts/fills go here!
Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.
Other Sports and Crossovers are here.
Speed Skating is here.
Rules are still there to be followed.
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Galina looks pissed, like she’s not going to take this lying down-and Johnny can’t blame her, because the medals are as much hers as Johnny’s, at least for the last few years. For a second Johnny’s heart stops, because this could (this will) blow up in all of their faces, Galina’s and Viktor’s and Johnny’s, and Johnny hadn’t realized that, that all of their reputations, their legacies, will be damaged-
But then, when Galina’s about to berate the officials again, it’s Savoie’s turn to clear his throat.
“Johnny is right. It’s not an advantage. Being a girl. Didn’t you listen to what he said? Men are faster, taller, and stronger. Different center of gravity, height, muscle mass,” Savoie says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world-like he hadn’t been shaking his head in disbelief at what Johnny’d said only minutes before. But apparently he’d listened. Johnny sighs in relief.
An hour later Johnny stumbles out of the conference room and straight into a car that the ISU called, headed to a doctor’s office. The ISU ended up demanding it and Johnny’s not going to protest; a doctor might know why, after all, or at least have a hypothesis. That would be more than Johnny has right now.
Galina’s still in the meeting, fighting for Johnny’s medals and reputation. Instead of her, Savoie is with Johnny, oddly silent, sent as the “trustworthy” person to monitor the official side of things from the ISU’s perspective. He even goes into the exam room with Johnny, though he sits off to the side and keeps his eyes firmly averted.
The exams are different than they had been, before. Johnny feels open, exposed. Legs spread, knees open, and Johnny’s shaking.
From the doctor’s office, Savoie herds Johnny back into a car and to a new conference room, this one equipped with touchscreens and speakerphones and an official ISU logo on the wall. Galina is noticeably absent, and Johnny’s sure it’s on purpose-they’ve still got her locked up in a meeting somewhere, just like they’d gotten Tara.
Savoie hands over the file.
Johnny sits in silence while they read it, because there’s not a whole lot else to say.
“Mr. Weir,” Phyllis Howard says finally, setting down the paper and adjusting her glasses. “This is…unexpected.”
Despite what the doctor’s reports (and Johnny, and oddly, Savoie) say, it takes two hours to get them to really accept that no, Johnny doesn’t know what is going on, Johnny doesn’t have an explanation. Even then no one is even pretending to understand, not even Savoie, who saw Johnny shaking at the prospect of a pel-of an exam.
Around one, Galina and Tara reappear, together, and Johnny takes a deep breath, because okay, this will work out, it has to.
“You will keep your medals and titles, Johnnik,” Galina says, and a flood of selfish relief washes over Johnny, because yes, they’re just medals, but they’re more than that, they’re personal history, achievements-but then Galina continues. And it’s not that Johnny would’ve expected anything different, but Johnny hadn’t thought about it, not at all, and when Galina continues, that flood of relief freezes into a glacier, crushing breath back down into lungs.
“But you cannot compete again. No competition, not as man, not as woman.”
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Johnny’s first time is in a hotel room, in a city that Johnny can’t even remember.
Stephane’s hands are reaching, exploring, and their mouths are meeting, soft and pliable and perfect, and Johnny remembers thinking that it’s perfect, breathtaking, like Stephane’s spins.
They’re too young for this, too flighty, unattached-but Stephane grins against Johnny’s jaw and whispers in French, and there are coaches next door and they’re breaking all the rules, hands and backs and thighs, open expanses of skin.
“Let me,” Stephane whispers, lips beneath Johnny’s earlobe, and his hands are gentle, perfect, teasing. Soon Johnny is stuttering back against the pillows, pupils blown, and it’s all Johnny can do to keep kissing, keep running fingers down Stephane’s chest and down, further-
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