(Untitled)
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.
If you are new, please be sure to read the rules before posting.
Feel free to repost any prompts that have not been ( Read more... )
3. It is Stéphane's last night, but he doesn't know it as he watches Johnny cook. With a hand on one hip, Johnny measures and pours ingredients with surgical precision - although he has already been retired for a year, the vestiges of a competitive diet still lurk inside his food decisions. But in a brief act of rebellion, Johnny adds an extra teaspoon of butter into the pot and smiles with a guilty pride. Stéphane inexplicably swoons at this minor gesture of defiance, and begins to pay more attention as Johnny chops, sautés, and bends far over to take something out of the oven. The oven emits a heady aroma of hot, dry air, and Stéphane feels his body becoming more sensitive and alert. He shifts restlessly, and decides that tonight must be a very, very, good one.
Stéphane and Johnny like to argue - Johnny to be right, Stéphane to be able to indulge him. Even though Johnny finds it kind of silly, Stéphane loves a certain game of theirs, in which they instigate an argument, leave the room in a huff, and reconcile a few hours later in the most enjoyable way they know how, that had stemmed from this hobby. So when Johnny proudly and timidly presents a deep crimson stew, filled with every vegetable and meat known to man, Stéphane already knows what his answer will be. Johnny shifts in his chair with a light nervousness, and the words rush out as he informs Stéphane that "Ksenia just sent me this recipe, and I think it worked out well but I want you to try it before I induct it into our catalogue." As Johnny unconsciously bites his lip, Stéphane languorously takes a spoonful of stew and sips. His toes curl with pleasure, and he tries not to squirm.
"Well? What do you think?"
"It is... a little too rich, n'est-ce pas?"
Johnny's eyes grow wide, and he quickly takes a spoonful for himself. Burning his tongue, he flaps his hands in panic for a few seconds but promptly returns to calm. He purses his lips. "It tastes fine to me.... Really, too rich?"
"Well, just a little bit," Stéphane sniffs.
But Johnny actually looks a little hurt at the theatrical attack on his cooking, so Stéphane slides his foot forward under their small dining table until it meets his husband's. Running his big toe down a tendon of Johnny's well-pedicured foot, Stéphane smirks (and feels a slight stirring in his gut) at the resulting squeak and twirls his spoon. "It is not very bad... this is your first time, after all. Next time, I will help you," he assures with a grin.
Johnny, like he does for everything, catches on quickly. He is a completely unconvincing actor, though, as he puts his hands on his hips and pushes his lips out. "I don't need your help, Stéphane Lambiel. You would somehow turn it into a cake, with butter and chocolate oozing out of every pore as usual, and I would be forced to eat it out of politeness. And by the end of the week, we'd be so corpulent that only one of us could fit in the bathtub at once."
Stéphane's toe wanders up Johnny's calf, running across the sparse, curly black hairs.
"And it's not even like it's my fault, Ksenia sent me this recipe and I followed it exactly, but whenever something ever goes the least bit wrong, it's automatically 'Johneeee... whoai deed you do zees to me....'"
Stéphane's eyes infuse with a deep grief. "I did not know that you dislike my cakes," he whispers.
(To be continued later tonight... if anyone cares besides these crickets and tumbleweeds, lol)
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It's grown long so we're probably due for a fresh new one soon but it's still plenty active.
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Here it is: http://wintergameskink.livejournal.com/4328.html?thread=6601704#t6601704
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