Fic: Do It Yourself (The En terre étrangère Remix) (skating RPF, Evan/Stephane)
lannamichaels inadvertently reminded me that I'd never posted this to my LJ. I wrote it for the rpfremix back in April, and the authors got revealed right when I was busy with my move and my new computer.
Title: Do It Yourself (The En terre étrangère Remix)
Fandom: figure skating RPF
Pairing: Evan Lysacek/Stéphane Lambiel
Rating: R for language and sexiness.
Continuity: During the 2006 Champions on Ice tour.
Summary: Stéphane's list of people he would do right now is mostly just Evan.
Word Count: About 1,800.
Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. The characters herein are based on real people, but the words and events are completely made up. They are not intended to be mistaken for fact, and no libel is intended. This original work of fan fiction is Copyright 2007 Mosca. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. Why else do you think we are talking in this ridiculous accent?
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy and annavtree for the betas, and to Naughty Kitty for the French. This is a remix of talk_back's story, Do It Yourself (Faites-le vous-même) for the 2007 rpfremix.
*
Stéphane is keeping a list in his diary of the things he's learned about America. It's not numbered, sometimes there are no line breaks, and often it's scrawled in pencil the moment the bus driver slams on the brakes. There is a ketchup stain in one corner. It's in four different languages, one of which he doesn't speak. It is not a useful list.
It contains notes about what to order at various fast food restaurants and what not to expect from Chinese food. How to connect a hotel room TV to a PlayStation, a DVD player, or a video camera. A trick Gwendal Peizerat taught him with WD-40, a chopstick, and a skate guard. How to say "penis" in Russian and how to decline it in all six cases. Four pornographic spin positions. No, five. The way Evan stares at Johnny when he thinks no one is watching; the way Ben stares at Tanith because what he wants is his girlfriend. Signs that Rudy Galindo might be cheating on his husband with Johnny. Things he needs to take pictures of and send to Caro because she has been to America but she will still never believe they exist: yards overrun with lawn ornaments, blue applesauce, cars the size of small houses covered in Christian bumper stickers. People on this tour who he would fuck right now in front of everyone.
Maybe it's a useful list after all.
Stéphane knows who he's supposed to hang out with. The Americans his age, the in-crowd. He doesn't believe they're his friends, but he believes they're his section of the bus. He listens attentively because it's the only way he can understand what they're saying, and even then they refer to songs he's never heard, TV programs that never aired in Switzerland. They think he's good-natured and quiet. That's mostly ridiculous, but then, they're Americans. They're more or less from another planet. And here, he's the alien.
People on this tour who he would fuck right now in front of everyone: Evan Lysacek, Victor Petrenko, Gwendal Peizerat, Tanith Belbin (even he isn't gay enough to say no to that). Evan Lysacek. Evan Lysacek. He writes the name again and again because he likes to see that list get longer.
In Denver, Stéphane goes shopping. Not much fashion here, but he finds iridescent ladybug stickers in a stationery store. He is listening to his iPod and arranging the stickers in an artful pattern on the cover of his diary, and this is when Evan decides to walk by and start a conversation. It's like being caught masturbating, although he wouldn't actually mind if Evan did that.
He tries not to let his face light up when he sees Evan. Definitely not when he remembers he has a message for him: Evan was supposed to meet Tanith at the rink an hour ago. Evan is late and upset. Stéphane isn't sure why, but it seems like Evan's dismay has to do with something other than the lateness itself. Something that Stéphane doesn't know about and won't, something he doesn't have the right to.
Another thing on his list is that Tanith is in love with Evan. She has the sad, sweet devotion of the resigned fag hag. She's so beautiful, this should be an opportunity and not a problem, but no one can choose who they desire.
Stéphane does what little he can do. He lies, tells Evan they were supposed to meet at two. He plays his part.
Evan hugs Stéphane quickly, relieved, and Stéphane stiffens to keep from falling into his arms, to keep from kissing him, to keep from sticking his hand down Evan's pants and saying with his body what he can't find the words for. When he's sure Evan can't hear, he smiles and says, "Yeah, see you." In his notebook, he writes, Don't worry about the context. You'll never know what they want. He draws a picture of a ladybug with sad, squiggly antennae and another with its antennae in the air, sharp and attentive, receiving only static.
*
Evan is acting like himself again within a few days, making jokes, not caring about anything. His new hobby seems to be memorizing French phrases he's looked up on the internet. He shouts them out, the pronunciation so wrong that Stéphane can't tell what they're meant to be half the time. When he does figure them out, they're the kind of joke insults you might see on children's TV programs. Evan could be mistaken for someone who is trying to get Stéphane's attention, although Stéphane has other reasons to be quite sure Evan is more into Johnny. Johnny gets the longing looks and the half-hidden smiles. All Stéphane gets is a mangling of his mother tongue. Maybe Evan just wants everyone's attention. Maybe Evan doesn't know who he wants.
Stéphane wants to teach him some real French: Je veux te enculer, espèce de connard pédé. I want to fuck you in the ass, you fucking clueless faggot. Those are the words he's mouthing as he goes into the marathon spin at the end of "Fix You." God bless America, they think he's singing along. A group of girls in the stands waves and whistles and cheers long after it stops being polite, and they throw him an attack squadron of plush ladybugs. Stéphane ducks and waves back, finds one and pulls it to his chest. His fans.
He gets off the ice and he's reeling from the attention. Evan is standing on the mats, watching him or waiting for him, and he spins Evan around to get by him. But there is something hard and fearful in his eyes. Stéphane stops and throws his arms around Evan, possibly still in view of the stands, not caring. Evan leans down into his shoulder. If Stéphane were in his position, he'd be crying, but Evan is holding back. As if he needed to.
Evan is apologizing. He's hard enough to understand when he's not stammering and sniffling, when they're far from the roar of the crowd. He doesn't seem to have anything to apologize for, unless he's using Stéphane and covering his ass in advance. Covering his ass: it's one of Stéphane's favorite idioms in English.
And this is an ass Stéphane wouldn't mind covering. He might be Evan's second choice, but he's been satisfied with second place before. "Tu es completement délectable," he says into Evan's shoulder. He runs his hand through Evan's spiky-short hair and pulls him closer. In skates, he's almost the same height as Evan is in socks. Evan hesitates, gazing into Stéphane's eyes like he's searching for an excuse in them. Stéphane smiles an invitation.
It's not a great kiss. Their teeth crash together, and there are too many people watching. But it's funny, and that makes up for a lot.
They sit together backstage until the finale, mostly staring at each other and smiling and then looking away. Soon, they'll have to find something to talk about, but for the next half-hour there will be nothing to say but "I wish we didn't have to skate in the finale so I could have you naked right now." The finale goes on forever and it takes another ten years to get past the autograph line. And then they're on the bus, in the elevator, in Evan's room, all over each other. In the middle of making love to him, Steph pauses and feels the reality of fulfilled longing. He has so many things to cross off his list.
*
They've been together for a week when Evan finds Stéphane's diary. "Don't touch that," Stéphane says, taking it away and stuffing it back in his bag. "It's private."
"As long as you don't start saying that about your dick," Evan says.
"I wouldn't," Stéphane says.
"It was a joke," Evan says. He kisses the back of Stéphane's neck. "I know you wouldn't."
"I missed it, then," Stéphane says.
"Because your English is um, um, better than mine but you pretend it um, um, isn't so you can get away with shit?"
"It isn't perfect," Stéphane says. "I do miss things."
Evan lies back on the bed, pulling Stéphane with him. All of the covers are on the floor. The hotel staff will figure them out for sure. "Maybe I should learn French," he says. "So you won't have that excuse."
"Mais si je fais ça, je ne pourrais pas t'empêcher de lire mes secrets," Stéphane says.
"What does that mean?" Evan says.
"I don't know," Stéphane says. "You should look it up on the internet."
"You should write it down so I can," Evan says.
Stéphane rolls off of him, finds the free hotel pen and scratch pad, and writes, De quelle couleur est le poisson? By the time he's finished, Evan is half dressed.
"What are you doing?" Stéphane says.
"I'm going to go downstairs and ask Gwendal what you've been saying behind my back," Evan says, grabbing the piece of paper out of Stéphane's hand. Stéphane snickers. "What?" Evan says. "Is it dirty?"
"I don't know. You should ask Gwendal."
"Anyway, I told people we'd meet them for coffee, you should come with me," Evan says.
"People?"
"Our friends," Evan says. "People."
"We have something that is ours?" Stéphane says.
"Yes," Evan says. "Why wouldn't we?"
"Because," Stéphane says. "A lot of reasons."
"What do you want me to tell you?" Evan says. "I was wrong. I was wrong about Johnny, I was wrong about you, you can stop, like, testing me all the time. You're the best boyfriend ever, you win, shut up. Asshole."
Stéphane has no idea what this is about, but it's not important. He's learned enough about Evan to know that Evan doesn't want tears and sympathy. He doesn't even want Stéphane to accept his apology. He wants the same thing Stéphane does: a sweet distraction, someone to make up for all the small errors of a long summer trapped on a bus with incomprehensible people. The problem has been, Evan says things in American, and it takes some time to translate him.
"La ferme," Stéphane says. "Sale con."
"What's that?" Evan says.
"Your first French lesson," Stéphane says. "Shut up, asshole. La ferme, sale con."
Evan gets a notebook out of his bag. The first thing he does is tear out a page, crumple it up, and toss it in the trash like he's a basketball player, not a figure skater. Then, he turns to a clean page and says, "Can you spell that?"
"What are you doing?" Stéphane says.
"I'm starting over," Evan says. "I'm making a new list." He comes over and kisses Stéphane's forehead. Stéphane could easily get the old list out of the trash and find out what was on it, but he'd prefer to trust that he's on the new one.
Title: Do It Yourself (The En terre étrangère Remix)
Fandom: figure skating RPF
Pairing: Evan Lysacek/Stéphane Lambiel
Rating: R for language and sexiness.
Continuity: During the 2006 Champions on Ice tour.
Summary: Stéphane's list of people he would do right now is mostly just Evan.
Word Count: About 1,800.
Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. The characters herein are based on real people, but the words and events are completely made up. They are not intended to be mistaken for fact, and no libel is intended. This original work of fan fiction is Copyright 2007 Mosca. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. Why else do you think we are talking in this ridiculous accent?
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy and annavtree for the betas, and to Naughty Kitty for the French. This is a remix of talk_back's story, Do It Yourself (Faites-le vous-même) for the 2007 rpfremix.
*
Stéphane is keeping a list in his diary of the things he's learned about America. It's not numbered, sometimes there are no line breaks, and often it's scrawled in pencil the moment the bus driver slams on the brakes. There is a ketchup stain in one corner. It's in four different languages, one of which he doesn't speak. It is not a useful list.
It contains notes about what to order at various fast food restaurants and what not to expect from Chinese food. How to connect a hotel room TV to a PlayStation, a DVD player, or a video camera. A trick Gwendal Peizerat taught him with WD-40, a chopstick, and a skate guard. How to say "penis" in Russian and how to decline it in all six cases. Four pornographic spin positions. No, five. The way Evan stares at Johnny when he thinks no one is watching; the way Ben stares at Tanith because what he wants is his girlfriend. Signs that Rudy Galindo might be cheating on his husband with Johnny. Things he needs to take pictures of and send to Caro because she has been to America but she will still never believe they exist: yards overrun with lawn ornaments, blue applesauce, cars the size of small houses covered in Christian bumper stickers. People on this tour who he would fuck right now in front of everyone.
Maybe it's a useful list after all.
Stéphane knows who he's supposed to hang out with. The Americans his age, the in-crowd. He doesn't believe they're his friends, but he believes they're his section of the bus. He listens attentively because it's the only way he can understand what they're saying, and even then they refer to songs he's never heard, TV programs that never aired in Switzerland. They think he's good-natured and quiet. That's mostly ridiculous, but then, they're Americans. They're more or less from another planet. And here, he's the alien.
People on this tour who he would fuck right now in front of everyone: Evan Lysacek, Victor Petrenko, Gwendal Peizerat, Tanith Belbin (even he isn't gay enough to say no to that). Evan Lysacek. Evan Lysacek. He writes the name again and again because he likes to see that list get longer.
In Denver, Stéphane goes shopping. Not much fashion here, but he finds iridescent ladybug stickers in a stationery store. He is listening to his iPod and arranging the stickers in an artful pattern on the cover of his diary, and this is when Evan decides to walk by and start a conversation. It's like being caught masturbating, although he wouldn't actually mind if Evan did that.
He tries not to let his face light up when he sees Evan. Definitely not when he remembers he has a message for him: Evan was supposed to meet Tanith at the rink an hour ago. Evan is late and upset. Stéphane isn't sure why, but it seems like Evan's dismay has to do with something other than the lateness itself. Something that Stéphane doesn't know about and won't, something he doesn't have the right to.
Another thing on his list is that Tanith is in love with Evan. She has the sad, sweet devotion of the resigned fag hag. She's so beautiful, this should be an opportunity and not a problem, but no one can choose who they desire.
Stéphane does what little he can do. He lies, tells Evan they were supposed to meet at two. He plays his part.
Evan hugs Stéphane quickly, relieved, and Stéphane stiffens to keep from falling into his arms, to keep from kissing him, to keep from sticking his hand down Evan's pants and saying with his body what he can't find the words for. When he's sure Evan can't hear, he smiles and says, "Yeah, see you." In his notebook, he writes, Don't worry about the context. You'll never know what they want. He draws a picture of a ladybug with sad, squiggly antennae and another with its antennae in the air, sharp and attentive, receiving only static.
*
Evan is acting like himself again within a few days, making jokes, not caring about anything. His new hobby seems to be memorizing French phrases he's looked up on the internet. He shouts them out, the pronunciation so wrong that Stéphane can't tell what they're meant to be half the time. When he does figure them out, they're the kind of joke insults you might see on children's TV programs. Evan could be mistaken for someone who is trying to get Stéphane's attention, although Stéphane has other reasons to be quite sure Evan is more into Johnny. Johnny gets the longing looks and the half-hidden smiles. All Stéphane gets is a mangling of his mother tongue. Maybe Evan just wants everyone's attention. Maybe Evan doesn't know who he wants.
Stéphane wants to teach him some real French: Je veux te enculer, espèce de connard pédé. I want to fuck you in the ass, you fucking clueless faggot. Those are the words he's mouthing as he goes into the marathon spin at the end of "Fix You." God bless America, they think he's singing along. A group of girls in the stands waves and whistles and cheers long after it stops being polite, and they throw him an attack squadron of plush ladybugs. Stéphane ducks and waves back, finds one and pulls it to his chest. His fans.
He gets off the ice and he's reeling from the attention. Evan is standing on the mats, watching him or waiting for him, and he spins Evan around to get by him. But there is something hard and fearful in his eyes. Stéphane stops and throws his arms around Evan, possibly still in view of the stands, not caring. Evan leans down into his shoulder. If Stéphane were in his position, he'd be crying, but Evan is holding back. As if he needed to.
Evan is apologizing. He's hard enough to understand when he's not stammering and sniffling, when they're far from the roar of the crowd. He doesn't seem to have anything to apologize for, unless he's using Stéphane and covering his ass in advance. Covering his ass: it's one of Stéphane's favorite idioms in English.
And this is an ass Stéphane wouldn't mind covering. He might be Evan's second choice, but he's been satisfied with second place before. "Tu es completement délectable," he says into Evan's shoulder. He runs his hand through Evan's spiky-short hair and pulls him closer. In skates, he's almost the same height as Evan is in socks. Evan hesitates, gazing into Stéphane's eyes like he's searching for an excuse in them. Stéphane smiles an invitation.
It's not a great kiss. Their teeth crash together, and there are too many people watching. But it's funny, and that makes up for a lot.
They sit together backstage until the finale, mostly staring at each other and smiling and then looking away. Soon, they'll have to find something to talk about, but for the next half-hour there will be nothing to say but "I wish we didn't have to skate in the finale so I could have you naked right now." The finale goes on forever and it takes another ten years to get past the autograph line. And then they're on the bus, in the elevator, in Evan's room, all over each other. In the middle of making love to him, Steph pauses and feels the reality of fulfilled longing. He has so many things to cross off his list.
*
They've been together for a week when Evan finds Stéphane's diary. "Don't touch that," Stéphane says, taking it away and stuffing it back in his bag. "It's private."
"As long as you don't start saying that about your dick," Evan says.
"I wouldn't," Stéphane says.
"It was a joke," Evan says. He kisses the back of Stéphane's neck. "I know you wouldn't."
"I missed it, then," Stéphane says.
"Because your English is um, um, better than mine but you pretend it um, um, isn't so you can get away with shit?"
"It isn't perfect," Stéphane says. "I do miss things."
Evan lies back on the bed, pulling Stéphane with him. All of the covers are on the floor. The hotel staff will figure them out for sure. "Maybe I should learn French," he says. "So you won't have that excuse."
"Mais si je fais ça, je ne pourrais pas t'empêcher de lire mes secrets," Stéphane says.
"What does that mean?" Evan says.
"I don't know," Stéphane says. "You should look it up on the internet."
"You should write it down so I can," Evan says.
Stéphane rolls off of him, finds the free hotel pen and scratch pad, and writes, De quelle couleur est le poisson? By the time he's finished, Evan is half dressed.
"What are you doing?" Stéphane says.
"I'm going to go downstairs and ask Gwendal what you've been saying behind my back," Evan says, grabbing the piece of paper out of Stéphane's hand. Stéphane snickers. "What?" Evan says. "Is it dirty?"
"I don't know. You should ask Gwendal."
"Anyway, I told people we'd meet them for coffee, you should come with me," Evan says.
"People?"
"Our friends," Evan says. "People."
"We have something that is ours?" Stéphane says.
"Yes," Evan says. "Why wouldn't we?"
"Because," Stéphane says. "A lot of reasons."
"What do you want me to tell you?" Evan says. "I was wrong. I was wrong about Johnny, I was wrong about you, you can stop, like, testing me all the time. You're the best boyfriend ever, you win, shut up. Asshole."
Stéphane has no idea what this is about, but it's not important. He's learned enough about Evan to know that Evan doesn't want tears and sympathy. He doesn't even want Stéphane to accept his apology. He wants the same thing Stéphane does: a sweet distraction, someone to make up for all the small errors of a long summer trapped on a bus with incomprehensible people. The problem has been, Evan says things in American, and it takes some time to translate him.
"La ferme," Stéphane says. "Sale con."
"What's that?" Evan says.
"Your first French lesson," Stéphane says. "Shut up, asshole. La ferme, sale con."
Evan gets a notebook out of his bag. The first thing he does is tear out a page, crumple it up, and toss it in the trash like he's a basketball player, not a figure skater. Then, he turns to a clean page and says, "Can you spell that?"
"What are you doing?" Stéphane says.
"I'm starting over," Evan says. "I'm making a new list." He comes over and kisses Stéphane's forehead. Stéphane could easily get the old list out of the trash and find out what was on it, but he'd prefer to trust that he's on the new one.