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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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Feel free to repost any prompts that have not been ( Read more... )
There’s no show that evening, so after being cornered by Evgeni for a painfully long chat in broken English, Stephane excuses himself and hurries off upstairs, desperately needing to take the situation into his own hands.
Finally, he sits down on his bed, kicking off his shoes. There are already extremely pleasant images flashing through his mind - Johnny dropping to his knees in front of him, mouth open and waiting - Johnny riding him, back arched and throat exposed, muscles straining under Stephane’s palms - Johnny on all fours, lubed up and ready to be mounted…
Stephane’s just undoing his pants when there’s a knock on the door. He groans in frustration.
It’s Johnny (of course). He's half-naked (of course). His hair is tousled and slightly damp, dripping water onto his chest. He’s only wearing jeans, with nothing on his feet. Stephane didn’t even know he could be turned on by Johnny’s bare feet. Now there’s a new one.
“Hey, can I come in?”
Stephane’s not quite coherent, so he just swallows hard and gestures Johnny in, shutting the door behind him.
“I came to borrow something,” says Johnny, pushing a hand backward through his hair, “but now I can’t remember…”
“A shirt?” suggests Stephane. If he’d had a chance to relieve some of the tension from earlier then maybe he’d be less conspicuous about staring. He really wants to lick where the chain of Johnny’s necklace falls delicately across his collarbone.
Johnny smirks at him and bites his lip. “I don’t think that’s what I came for,” he says.
Stephane doesn’t know what to think. Then Johnny looks him up and down, sliding his tongue out slowly to lick his lips, and Stephane can’t think at all anymore, he just wants.
Before he knows it, he’s grabbing Johnny by the waist and forcing him up against the wall, slamming their mouths together. Johnny isn’t coy about that, at least, and kisses back just as hard, his hands up in Stephane’s hair, tangling against his neck. He lifts up Stephane’s shirt and pulls it over his head, then kisses him again, open-mouthed, his tongue sliding smoothly and wetly against Stephane’s.
But when Stephane tries to grind up against him, Johnny barely responds, surprisingly stoic given how hard Stephane can feel he is already.
“Johnny…” says Stephane, shifting his hips, trying to rub his erection against Johnny’s through too many layers. He can’t believe how low and needy he voice sounds. He’s more than desperate, and Johnny just won’t move.
Johnny gives him a self-satisfied smile. He’s flushed and his lips are dark red where Stephane’s kissed him bruisingly. Their faces are close enough that Stephane can feel Johnny’s breath as he speaks, his voice deep and hoarse.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” he says. It’s more of an invitation than a question.
Just the words from Johnny’s lips send an intense jolt of pleasure to Stephane’s cock. He wastes no more time on kissing. He takes hold of Johnny’s hips again, roughly tugging him away from the wall.
He barely thinks about what he’s doing as he shoves Johnny down over the hotel room’s desk, one hand between his shoulder blades, bending him over and holding him in place. He just knows that he needs to fuck Johnny Weir, and hard and now.
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