Fic: Reverse Psychology (skating RPF, Johnny/Ben)
I started writing my response to the Cup of China results yesterday, and it turned into fic. Which is actually good, because the nonfiction results were basically, "Seriously? SERIOUSLY? Squee. So much squee."
Title: Reverse Psychology
Fandom: figure skating RPS
Pairing: Johnny Weir/Ben Agosto, Tanith Belbin/Evan Lysacek, Tanith/Alexander Uspenski
Rating: NC-17 for a little bit of porn.
Continuity: Takes place during the 2007 Cup of China, with major spoilers.
Summary: Ben can't escape the fact that he owes Johnny a blow job.
Word Count: About 2,200.
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 licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this Livejournal post. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. Muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre.
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy for the speed beta!
*
Ben never watched other people's events from the stands, but Tanith needed help giving Evan bad vibes. She was bitter, so Ben was required to be bitter along with her. It wasn't hard: Evan couldn't wait until after the competition to kill her concentration by telling her, sorry, turned out he was gay after all? They'd almost lost to the goddamn Russians. Again. Asshole.
All the men's skaters were falling on their butts. After Stephane Lambiel's third tumble, Ben whispered, "Control your vibes, lady."
"I'm saving it," she said. "I know what I'm doing."
When the announcer called Weir's name and he skated out, his posse of scary fans erupted into cheers. Ben clapped warmly. Tanith sat on her hands, her face frozen in a severe frown. She knew just what she was doing.
Weir was really good. Not flawless, not inspirational, but really good. Two textbook triple axels, no quad. The scary fans leapt to their feet. Ben whistled. Tanith sat perfectly still. Weir's scores were high, but they were far from unbeatable.
Evan skated out, arms wide, head high, the way you do when your body is screaming with pain. Tanith jumped up and shouted, "Go Evan! Three quads!" Evan didn't look up. He probably hadn't heard her. The rink was noisy, and high voices didn't carry. Ben couldn't bring himself to fake that kind of enthusiasm.
Tanith believed in reverse psychology, but Ben was more of a fan of plain old psychology. He sat with his hands in his lap, silently muttering, "Fall, asshole, fall hard. Fall like Tanith's heart."
Ben could tell from Evan's takeoff into his quad that there wasn't going to be a landing. Evan winced when he hit the ice. Ben feared that he'd done his part.
*
Waiting in the wings for the medal ceremonies -- three in a row meant everyone was annoyed and impatient -- a new terror struck Ben. Weir sashayed into the holding area, dancing to his own private victory march. Ben waved him over. When Weir was whisper-close, Ben hissed, "Do I owe you a blow job?"
"Technically," Weir whispered back.
On the tour bus that summer, Weir had been whining about his lack of motivation. Between the crappy season he'd had and Tanith and Evan's nonstop nuzzling backstage, the whining was totally justified, and Ben had indulged it. He'd said something about how, at his low points, Merrie had bribed him with sex. "Only gold medalists get blow jobs," she would tease.
Johnny had sunk his chin into his hands. "I wish I had someone to bribe me with blow jobs," he'd said.
It had seemed like such an empty promise. If Johnny won at a competition where Ben also won, and Evan lost, Ben would reward Johnny. Ben had assumed that the scenario wouldn't even be possible until Nationals, and by then they both would have forgotten it.
He shouldn't have brought it up.
"Are you offering?" Weir said.
Ben's best defense was to change the subject. "What are you singing?"
"'Forgot About Dre.'"
"You listen to Dr. Dre?" Ben said.
"Not on purpose," Johnny said. "It gets stuck in your head. You know what I haven't gotten to sing in a while?"
"What?"
"The Star Spangled fucking Banner," Johnny said. "Are you offering?"
"Ask me after the medal ceremony," Ben said.
*
On the podium, Ben whispered to Tanith, "Do I owe Weir a blow job?"
"If you're asking that question, you probably do," she said. "Because if you're asking that, you got either bored or drunk and made an empty promise, and now you're on the spot."
He paused to smile and wave at the audience, and to collect his thoughts. "Can I get out of it?"
"Do you care whether he respects you?" she said.
Smile. Wave. He thought the audience might be on to him. "Slightly."
"Then you should man up," Tanith said. "And face front. They want to put a medal on you."
*
On the shuttle bus, Johnny was sitting in an aisle seat with his bag on the window seat. Ben climbed over him. "I'm offering."
*
"This isn't going to be good," Ben said. "Just a heads up." He ran his hand down Johnny's chest and stomach to his dick. He reminded himself that he'd done this before. He'd been skating juniors at the time, but still. Not a completely new experience.
Johnny smiled and rubbed up against Ben's hand. "No expectations. Do what you can."
Ben dropped to his knees and, eyes closed, fumbled with Johnny's jeans. If he opened his eyes, he'd look at Johnny's dick, and if he did that, he'd psych himself out. Johnny swatted Ben's hands out of the way and took his own pants off. Ben fished a condom and a trial-size packet of flavored lube out of his jacket pocket. Tanith had slipped them to him when they'd gotten back to the hotel. "Don't give these up," Ben had said. "You could have revenge sex."
"I have more," she'd chirped.
Johnny took Ben's hand and raised it slowly, putting it back on his dick. Ben ran his hand over it gently, coming to terms with the size of it. Johnny shuddered ticklishly. But he whimpered at the touch of Ben's tongue, and he got hard fast. Guys smelled funny, even guys like Johnny who were very clean and had probably just doused themselves in designer body spray. Ben put the condom on him easily. The lube was messy and smelled like a massacre at the strawberry factory. But it drowned out the guy smell. And the silliness of it kept him smiling, which seemed to make things easier. It helped, too, that Johnny was really into it and really vocal about being into it. He knew Johnny had come because he got quiet.
Johnny took the condom off, laughing that it was slippery. Ben had decided to keep his eyes closed until Johnny was dressed, but it was getting to be a long time in the dark. He opened his eyes just as Johnny planted a kiss on the top of his head and helped him to his feet. "You lied to me," Johnny said. "You said it wasn't going to be any good."
"I wasn't lying," Ben said. "Just lowering the bar."
"You need practice," Johnny said. He kissed Ben quickly on the lips. As small a gesture as it was, it felt like it went beyond what Ben owed him. "But you have potential."
"No potential for me," Ben said. "I'm off to get some sleep."
"You don't want a turn?" Johnny said.
"I don't need one."
"Come on," Johnny said. "Not reciprocating is against my religion."
"I didn't know the Catholic Church had a position on that," Ben said.
"Do unto others," Johnny said.
It would feel good. He could close his eyes again, lean his head back and let Johnny give him the victory party he deserved. He wasn't really attracted to guys, but they didn't disgust him either. His body liked the idea of going with it. He'd get off. It would feel great.
"That's kind of the problem," Ben said.
"Okay," Johnny said. "Have a good night." As if he could not help himself, he lifted Ben's fingers to his lips.
"You too." But as he turned to leave, he found a reason to hang around sitting on the dresser. "Or we could crack open that bottle of wine."
"Are you saying you want me to get you drunk so I can have my way with you?" Johnny said.
"Sure. Why not?"
Johnny looked at the wine, then back at Ben. He got a corkscrew out of his suitcase. Ben went to get some plastic cups from the bathroom. They sat on the bed and sipped. "So you guys qualified for the final," Johnny said.
"Yep," Ben said.
"Got any... plans or anything?"
"Sitting around watching the Cartoon Network and trying not to get injured?" Ben said. "Seriously, if I make us miss another one, I would not blame Tan for killing me."
Johnny snickered and refilled his cup.
"You?"
"I've still got another event," Johnny said. "I'm going back to New Jersey to work on my quad." He tilted his head back and downed his entire cup of wine.
Instinctively, Ben stiffened, although he couldn't think of anything that Johnny would do that he would want to fight off. It looked like it was going to be a kiss, but it wasn't even that. Johnny stroked Ben's face with the back of his hand, pushing the hairs of his beard up against the grain. The cool air on his skin made his eyelids flutter.
"I like how you look now," Johnny said.
"Thank you," Ben said.
"No, it's -- there's things you put out of your mind because they're impossible," Johnny said. "And then they're possible, and I -- I wish you'd let me get it over with quick, because now you're nice, and it's weird, and I -- I didn't think I'd win. I still don't think I won."
"We thought we were done, going into the free dance," Ben said. "Men's and ladies' have been crazy this season, but in dance, it's like they've been lining us up as we walked in and assigning us a placement. We figured, well, they like the Russians better, that's it. Especially since Tanith and I, you know, we've each been having our own problems. But she looked at me while we were waiting for our names to be called, and she said, 'It's just a practice run.' The way she said it, I think we both believed it. We just -- we just skated it."
Johnny smiled. "I did the same thing," he said. "Like, close enough."
Ben put his cup down on the nightstand and leaned back on his hands. "Maybe we'd be better off if we treated everything like it was a practice run."Johnny started to say something, but Ben kept talking. "Like, right now. Whatever you wanted to do, whatever you were going to do? Go ahead. It's only practice."
"Seriously?"
"Don't make me second-guess myself," Ben said.
"Okay," Johnny said. He took a deep breath. "Okay." He reached forward, almost climbing into Ben's lap. He had his big, warm hands on Ben's face again, his breath close and wine-scented. His kisses, rough and strong, could not have been mistaken for what a girl would give. "Your eyes are open," Johnny said.
"I forgot to close them," Ben said.
*
At eight in the morning, Ben's phone rang. It took him a minute to realize he wasn't in his own room. Johnny stirred next to him. He wanted to be ashamed or mad at himself, but it had been kind of fun. And only practice. "You spent the night?" Tanith said on the phone.
"How could you tell?" Ben said.
"Hi, I'm standing outside your room, how are you?" Tanith said.
"I'm good," Ben said.
"I spent the night, too," Tanith stage-whispered. "Revenge sex."
"Who?"
"Russian singles skater," she said. "Sasha something. I'm trying to forget his name. It's more fun that way."
"Whatever works," Ben said.
"Breakfast," Tanith said. "Breakfast works for me."
"Don't move," Ben said. He hung up the phone. He was about to shake Johnny awake, but Johnny was already stretching and yawning. "Gotta go," Ben said. "Tanith's hungry. Thanks for the wine. And the... yeah."
Johnny had his gala practice in a couple of hours and was grateful to be woken. He smiled up at Ben sleepily. Ben took a moment to consider kissing him, but it wasn't a good idea. Kissing Johnny would turn this into a thing it couldn't be.
Ben put his clothes on and went down the hall to his room. Tanith was sitting with her back against the door, smiling privately. "Hey you," she said. She got up and hugged him. "Are we back?"
"I don't know," Ben said. "We should talk."
"I don't want to talk," Tanith said. "I -- I'd rather say, whatever was in our heads before, it doesn't count. We're starting over. For real this time."
"Sounds good to me," Ben said. If they actually had to have the serious conversation about their friendship, he wasn't sure he'd have anything to say.
While he showered and got dressed, Tanith sat on the bed reading some tacky magazine she'd brought with her. Her whole body looked sunlit. She used to look like that all the time, but something had faded in her. He hoped she'd found it again and could hold onto it.
He grabbed his equipment bag and the garment bag with his costume in it. Tanith blocked him so she could fix his collar and mess up his hair. Her smile was all over her, in her eyes and in her hands. There was nothing to worry about. They were going to just skate.
Title: Reverse Psychology
Fandom: figure skating RPS
Pairing: Johnny Weir/Ben Agosto, Tanith Belbin/Evan Lysacek, Tanith/Alexander Uspenski
Rating: NC-17 for a little bit of porn.
Continuity: Takes place during the 2007 Cup of China, with major spoilers.
Summary: Ben can't escape the fact that he owes Johnny a blow job.
Word Count: About 2,200.
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 licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this Livejournal post. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. Muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre.
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy for the speed beta!
*
Ben never watched other people's events from the stands, but Tanith needed help giving Evan bad vibes. She was bitter, so Ben was required to be bitter along with her. It wasn't hard: Evan couldn't wait until after the competition to kill her concentration by telling her, sorry, turned out he was gay after all? They'd almost lost to the goddamn Russians. Again. Asshole.
All the men's skaters were falling on their butts. After Stephane Lambiel's third tumble, Ben whispered, "Control your vibes, lady."
"I'm saving it," she said. "I know what I'm doing."
When the announcer called Weir's name and he skated out, his posse of scary fans erupted into cheers. Ben clapped warmly. Tanith sat on her hands, her face frozen in a severe frown. She knew just what she was doing.
Weir was really good. Not flawless, not inspirational, but really good. Two textbook triple axels, no quad. The scary fans leapt to their feet. Ben whistled. Tanith sat perfectly still. Weir's scores were high, but they were far from unbeatable.
Evan skated out, arms wide, head high, the way you do when your body is screaming with pain. Tanith jumped up and shouted, "Go Evan! Three quads!" Evan didn't look up. He probably hadn't heard her. The rink was noisy, and high voices didn't carry. Ben couldn't bring himself to fake that kind of enthusiasm.
Tanith believed in reverse psychology, but Ben was more of a fan of plain old psychology. He sat with his hands in his lap, silently muttering, "Fall, asshole, fall hard. Fall like Tanith's heart."
Ben could tell from Evan's takeoff into his quad that there wasn't going to be a landing. Evan winced when he hit the ice. Ben feared that he'd done his part.
*
Waiting in the wings for the medal ceremonies -- three in a row meant everyone was annoyed and impatient -- a new terror struck Ben. Weir sashayed into the holding area, dancing to his own private victory march. Ben waved him over. When Weir was whisper-close, Ben hissed, "Do I owe you a blow job?"
"Technically," Weir whispered back.
On the tour bus that summer, Weir had been whining about his lack of motivation. Between the crappy season he'd had and Tanith and Evan's nonstop nuzzling backstage, the whining was totally justified, and Ben had indulged it. He'd said something about how, at his low points, Merrie had bribed him with sex. "Only gold medalists get blow jobs," she would tease.
Johnny had sunk his chin into his hands. "I wish I had someone to bribe me with blow jobs," he'd said.
It had seemed like such an empty promise. If Johnny won at a competition where Ben also won, and Evan lost, Ben would reward Johnny. Ben had assumed that the scenario wouldn't even be possible until Nationals, and by then they both would have forgotten it.
He shouldn't have brought it up.
"Are you offering?" Weir said.
Ben's best defense was to change the subject. "What are you singing?"
"'Forgot About Dre.'"
"You listen to Dr. Dre?" Ben said.
"Not on purpose," Johnny said. "It gets stuck in your head. You know what I haven't gotten to sing in a while?"
"What?"
"The Star Spangled fucking Banner," Johnny said. "Are you offering?"
"Ask me after the medal ceremony," Ben said.
*
On the podium, Ben whispered to Tanith, "Do I owe Weir a blow job?"
"If you're asking that question, you probably do," she said. "Because if you're asking that, you got either bored or drunk and made an empty promise, and now you're on the spot."
He paused to smile and wave at the audience, and to collect his thoughts. "Can I get out of it?"
"Do you care whether he respects you?" she said.
Smile. Wave. He thought the audience might be on to him. "Slightly."
"Then you should man up," Tanith said. "And face front. They want to put a medal on you."
*
On the shuttle bus, Johnny was sitting in an aisle seat with his bag on the window seat. Ben climbed over him. "I'm offering."
*
"This isn't going to be good," Ben said. "Just a heads up." He ran his hand down Johnny's chest and stomach to his dick. He reminded himself that he'd done this before. He'd been skating juniors at the time, but still. Not a completely new experience.
Johnny smiled and rubbed up against Ben's hand. "No expectations. Do what you can."
Ben dropped to his knees and, eyes closed, fumbled with Johnny's jeans. If he opened his eyes, he'd look at Johnny's dick, and if he did that, he'd psych himself out. Johnny swatted Ben's hands out of the way and took his own pants off. Ben fished a condom and a trial-size packet of flavored lube out of his jacket pocket. Tanith had slipped them to him when they'd gotten back to the hotel. "Don't give these up," Ben had said. "You could have revenge sex."
"I have more," she'd chirped.
Johnny took Ben's hand and raised it slowly, putting it back on his dick. Ben ran his hand over it gently, coming to terms with the size of it. Johnny shuddered ticklishly. But he whimpered at the touch of Ben's tongue, and he got hard fast. Guys smelled funny, even guys like Johnny who were very clean and had probably just doused themselves in designer body spray. Ben put the condom on him easily. The lube was messy and smelled like a massacre at the strawberry factory. But it drowned out the guy smell. And the silliness of it kept him smiling, which seemed to make things easier. It helped, too, that Johnny was really into it and really vocal about being into it. He knew Johnny had come because he got quiet.
Johnny took the condom off, laughing that it was slippery. Ben had decided to keep his eyes closed until Johnny was dressed, but it was getting to be a long time in the dark. He opened his eyes just as Johnny planted a kiss on the top of his head and helped him to his feet. "You lied to me," Johnny said. "You said it wasn't going to be any good."
"I wasn't lying," Ben said. "Just lowering the bar."
"You need practice," Johnny said. He kissed Ben quickly on the lips. As small a gesture as it was, it felt like it went beyond what Ben owed him. "But you have potential."
"No potential for me," Ben said. "I'm off to get some sleep."
"You don't want a turn?" Johnny said.
"I don't need one."
"Come on," Johnny said. "Not reciprocating is against my religion."
"I didn't know the Catholic Church had a position on that," Ben said.
"Do unto others," Johnny said.
It would feel good. He could close his eyes again, lean his head back and let Johnny give him the victory party he deserved. He wasn't really attracted to guys, but they didn't disgust him either. His body liked the idea of going with it. He'd get off. It would feel great.
"That's kind of the problem," Ben said.
"Okay," Johnny said. "Have a good night." As if he could not help himself, he lifted Ben's fingers to his lips.
"You too." But as he turned to leave, he found a reason to hang around sitting on the dresser. "Or we could crack open that bottle of wine."
"Are you saying you want me to get you drunk so I can have my way with you?" Johnny said.
"Sure. Why not?"
Johnny looked at the wine, then back at Ben. He got a corkscrew out of his suitcase. Ben went to get some plastic cups from the bathroom. They sat on the bed and sipped. "So you guys qualified for the final," Johnny said.
"Yep," Ben said.
"Got any... plans or anything?"
"Sitting around watching the Cartoon Network and trying not to get injured?" Ben said. "Seriously, if I make us miss another one, I would not blame Tan for killing me."
Johnny snickered and refilled his cup.
"You?"
"I've still got another event," Johnny said. "I'm going back to New Jersey to work on my quad." He tilted his head back and downed his entire cup of wine.
Instinctively, Ben stiffened, although he couldn't think of anything that Johnny would do that he would want to fight off. It looked like it was going to be a kiss, but it wasn't even that. Johnny stroked Ben's face with the back of his hand, pushing the hairs of his beard up against the grain. The cool air on his skin made his eyelids flutter.
"I like how you look now," Johnny said.
"Thank you," Ben said.
"No, it's -- there's things you put out of your mind because they're impossible," Johnny said. "And then they're possible, and I -- I wish you'd let me get it over with quick, because now you're nice, and it's weird, and I -- I didn't think I'd win. I still don't think I won."
"We thought we were done, going into the free dance," Ben said. "Men's and ladies' have been crazy this season, but in dance, it's like they've been lining us up as we walked in and assigning us a placement. We figured, well, they like the Russians better, that's it. Especially since Tanith and I, you know, we've each been having our own problems. But she looked at me while we were waiting for our names to be called, and she said, 'It's just a practice run.' The way she said it, I think we both believed it. We just -- we just skated it."
Johnny smiled. "I did the same thing," he said. "Like, close enough."
Ben put his cup down on the nightstand and leaned back on his hands. "Maybe we'd be better off if we treated everything like it was a practice run."Johnny started to say something, but Ben kept talking. "Like, right now. Whatever you wanted to do, whatever you were going to do? Go ahead. It's only practice."
"Seriously?"
"Don't make me second-guess myself," Ben said.
"Okay," Johnny said. He took a deep breath. "Okay." He reached forward, almost climbing into Ben's lap. He had his big, warm hands on Ben's face again, his breath close and wine-scented. His kisses, rough and strong, could not have been mistaken for what a girl would give. "Your eyes are open," Johnny said.
"I forgot to close them," Ben said.
*
At eight in the morning, Ben's phone rang. It took him a minute to realize he wasn't in his own room. Johnny stirred next to him. He wanted to be ashamed or mad at himself, but it had been kind of fun. And only practice. "You spent the night?" Tanith said on the phone.
"How could you tell?" Ben said.
"Hi, I'm standing outside your room, how are you?" Tanith said.
"I'm good," Ben said.
"I spent the night, too," Tanith stage-whispered. "Revenge sex."
"Who?"
"Russian singles skater," she said. "Sasha something. I'm trying to forget his name. It's more fun that way."
"Whatever works," Ben said.
"Breakfast," Tanith said. "Breakfast works for me."
"Don't move," Ben said. He hung up the phone. He was about to shake Johnny awake, but Johnny was already stretching and yawning. "Gotta go," Ben said. "Tanith's hungry. Thanks for the wine. And the... yeah."
Johnny had his gala practice in a couple of hours and was grateful to be woken. He smiled up at Ben sleepily. Ben took a moment to consider kissing him, but it wasn't a good idea. Kissing Johnny would turn this into a thing it couldn't be.
Ben put his clothes on and went down the hall to his room. Tanith was sitting with her back against the door, smiling privately. "Hey you," she said. She got up and hugged him. "Are we back?"
"I don't know," Ben said. "We should talk."
"I don't want to talk," Tanith said. "I -- I'd rather say, whatever was in our heads before, it doesn't count. We're starting over. For real this time."
"Sounds good to me," Ben said. If they actually had to have the serious conversation about their friendship, he wasn't sure he'd have anything to say.
While he showered and got dressed, Tanith sat on the bed reading some tacky magazine she'd brought with her. Her whole body looked sunlit. She used to look like that all the time, but something had faded in her. He hoped she'd found it again and could hold onto it.
He grabbed his equipment bag and the garment bag with his costume in it. Tanith blocked him so she could fix his collar and mess up his hair. Her smile was all over her, in her eyes and in her hands. There was nothing to worry about. They were going to just skate.