Be One Traveler (2/4) Johnny Weir/Evan Lysacek

[passe_simple]

Title: Be One Traveler
Fandom: Skating RPS (Johnny Weir/Evan Lysacek)


previously

Evan was honestly surprised Johnny didn't get pulled over, his driving was so very, very terrifyingly bad. "If you're going to sit there with your teeth clenched and panic all over your face, why don't you just drive?" Johnny asked, pulling across three lanes of traffic without signaling or checking his mirror.

"Normally I drive everywhere, don't I," Evan said. He was bracing himself against the dashboard with one hand and clutching the seat with the other.

"Pfft," said Johnny. "Oooh, my phone!"

Evan snatched it out of his hand before he could answer it. "I don't want to die. Can you please just watch the road?"

"We're almost home," said Johnny. "Relax. I won't tell my mom."

It was amazing how quickly Evan worked out what that meant. "I promised her I'd drive us," Evan said grimly. "Your mother is a smart woman."

"You don't need to suck up to her anymore; she likes you fine now. And even you have to admit she worries too much," Johnny shrugged, pulling back across all the lanes of traffic to exit the highway.

"Or," Evan countered, "she prefers you all in one piece."

Johnny pulled in to the parking lot of his apartment complex. "Home, see? No one died. Give me my phone." He attempted to park while reading his texts and narrowly missed a dog and a mailbox, completely by coincidence.

Evan was out of the car almost before Johnny had turned it off. He took a couple of deep breaths to remind himself that he was still alive, even if he was in the wrong universe with the wrong people doing the wrong things.

"Paris wants to know how I am, with seven question marks," Johnny frowned. "That's how you usually punctuate stuff. Huh. Why wouldn't I be fine? He's so weird."

"He?" Evan asked. Wasn't Paris Hilton a chick? Maybe that was different in this world, too. How had Paris and Johnny become friends?

"Don't tease," said Johnny. "Oh my god, I am so sore and tired. I might go take a nap. You want to join me?"

Evan followed him up the stairs and into the apartment. He was pretty sure Johnny didn't actually just mean a nap, and Evan wasn't prepared to send Tanith pictures of anything yet. There was kind of a moral gray area here, wasn't there? Johnny thought he was having sex with some other Evan, so he was technically cheating by accident. Or at least, that was what Evan told himself when he said, "Nah, I think I'll watch TV instead." Johnny's face fell, although he hid it quickly. Evan tried not to feel hugely guilty. This wasn't his Johnny to sleep with.

Not that Evan had a Johnny to sleep with.

Not that Evan wanted a Johnny to sleep with. Just, it had been a long time since he'd been sort of serious with Tanith, and the idea of a house and a boyfriend -- girlfriend! -- and all this stuff didn't seem as awful and oppressive as he might have expected.

"Fine, whatever," said Johnny, with a little shrug, and vanished into the bedroom. It was the first time Evan had been alone all day.

Apparently his brain had just been waiting for ten quiet minutes so it could start freaking out. The first thing Evan thought was How did I get here? And then, How will I get back? and What if I can't get back and I have to date Johnny Weir and skate pairs with Tanith and I screw it up and we don't medal and Johnny kicks me out and everyone hates me and I am stuck in this world forever???

Evan realized he wasn't breathing and sat down hard on the couch. He put his head between his knees and counted breaths until he got to a hundred and his brain had stopped screaming at him. Maybe none of this was really happening. Maybe if he could just fall asleep, he'd wake up back where things made sense. Maybe he was having a psychotic break and his life had always been this insane.

His phone beeped. Evan picked it up automatically. Am I too early??? Stephane had written.

No? Evan typed back. Stéphane was in Europe, so he was five hours ahead. Or behind. So maybe he was early, or maybe he was late. It made Evan's head hurt. Stéphane didn't text back, and Evan assumed that meant he'd figured out what time it was.

Evan knew it was only a matter of time before he screwed something up. Either he was going to hurt Tanith by dropping her, or he was going to hurt Johnny by calling him dude, or he was going to hurt himself when he said something about his old life and got locked up in an insane asylum. He needed to figure out how to get home.

The doorbell rang. Evan hoped to god it wasn't Paris Hilton, because he had no idea how he was going to deal with that. He sat as still as possible on the couch, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the bell rang again, and Evan didn't want Johnny to wake up. Johnny was a whole thing. Evan wasn't sure how long he could keep Johnny satisfied that he really was Evan, without having to... well. If he had to, he would. Maybe Johnny could be fended off with kissing.

Evan opened the door to Stéphane, looking floppy-haired and grinning. "My friend!" Stéphane said, holding his arms out. He hugged Evan and kissed him three times, alternating cheeks.

Evan was pretty sure he didn't know Stéphane well enough for that, but hey, maybe in this version of reality Stéphane was a pairs skater too, or something. "Hey," said Evan, wondering if he was supposed to kiss Stéphane back, or if he was excused for lack of being European.

"May I wish you many happy congratulations!" Stéphane said happily.

"Uh, sure?" Evan hazarded. He wondered if Stéphane was talking about the silver he and Tanith apparently had won.

Johnny, who had clearly not really been napping, opened the bedroom door. "Stéphane!" he gasped. "Oh my god, what are you--" He lapsed into something that was probably French, and Stéphane replied in French, and they Frenched at each other while they hugged and kissed and Evan stood awkwardly behind them, trying not to loom too much.

"But what are you doing here?" Johnny demanded, dragging Stéphane into the living room.

Stéphane turned and looked at Evan. Evan froze awkwardly. After a second Johnny frowned and turned to look at Evan, too.

"What?" Johnny said. "Is something going on?"

"Evan?" prompted Stéphane.

"Stéphane?" countered Evan.

Stéphane put his hands on his his hips. "You haven't..." he said, trailing off with a significant eyebrow waggle.

"Haven't what?" demanded Johnny impatiently. "My birthday is months away, what the actual fuck are we talking about?"

Stéphane gestured at Evan.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Obviously this Evan had something planned and Stéphane had been texting about it all day, but Evan had no idea what he was supposed to say. He hoped if he just looked blank enough Stéphane would jump in and explain, but Stéphane was looking more and more disapprovingly at him.

"May we talk alone a moment?" Stéphane said abruptly to Johnny.

"No," said Johnny, crossing his arms. "Are you kidding? Are you two up to something? Oh my god, are you having an affair? Wait, that's stupid. I want to know what's going on!"

"And you will," said Stéphane, smoothly taking Johnny by the arm and pushing him toward the bedroom door. "But first, we must have a moment, Evan and I."

"Evan!" Johnny protested, bracing himself against the door to the bedroom. "Tell Stéphane that this is my house and I can stay--"

Stéphane had a couple inches and a decent number of pounds on Johnny, and he simply picked him up with an arm around his waist and hustled him into the bedroom. Then he slammed the door shut and leaned against it.

"I'm going to eavesdrop!" Johnny hollered.

Stéphane rolled his eyes. "He is adorable as always," he said. Then he lowered his voice, whispering so quietly Evan was mostly reading his lips. "Your feet are cold?"

"My feet are..." Evan frowned at Stéphane. "They're fine."

Stéphane looked amazingly pained. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. "No," he whispered. "You have the cold feet and you have not asked Johnny yet, but you sent me a text that it was fine to come over. Sometimes I wonder if your brain, it is turned on all the way."

"My brain is fine," bristled Evan.

"So?" Stéphane demanded. "Why have you not asked him yet? Many, many people are waiting for the news! The party tonight will be most awkward if you do not tell Johnny why we have gathered."

All the strange and mysterious conversations Evan had been having all day wandered slowly one way across his brain, and Stéphane's voice saying, "Your feet are cold... why have you not asked him yet?" wandered the other way. They collided with the kind of impact Johnny's driving probably had on pedestrians.

"Holy shit!" Evan yelped. "I was going to ask him to--"

"Shhhh!" hissed Stéphane.

Evan couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open. "Oh my god," said Evan. "Oh my god!"

Stéphane looked doubtfully at him. "You seem a bit more... surprised than I expected. I thought this from Johnny, not you."

"I can't... I need... Oh my god," said Evan again.

This Evan was going to propose. He must have a ring somewhere, and plans, and Evan had no idea what those plans were. Or where the ring was, for that matter. Where could Evan possibly have hidden a ring that crazy OCD Johnny wouldn't have found it?

If Evan screwed this up, he was going to have to explain to everyone in this version of the world why he hadn't proposed to Johnny. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

Okay, bro, he told himself firmly, you can fake this. Think about your end game. Think strategy. How do you propose to a dude? Conceivably the same way you proposed to a chick, although Evan had never given much thought to that, either. But Evan should be able to figure out what some other Evan had planned. They weren't that different. Johnny hadn't accused him of being his own evil twin or anything. Whatever Other Evan was doing, Evan could do it, too.

It occurred to him suddenly that there might be some other version of himself running around in his life right now. He tried to imagine how the real version of Johnny would react to Evan showing up suddenly at his door with a kiss and a ring. He winced. Johnny would probably kick this version of Evan in the balls and scream bloody murder until the cops came.

Johnny banged on the door. "Let me out of here right now or I'm calling the cops!"

Speaking of. "Shit," Evan whispered. "I'm uh... I'm not ready! I panicked, I need more time to plan."

Stéphane pursed his lips. "There is a party," he pointed out.

"Tonight?" Evan winced. He needed more than a couple of hours to get this together.

Stéphane considered. "I will make you a deal, my friend," he said quietly. "I can arrange the party to be tomorrow. Give you one more day. But, and I wish to be clear as glasses, if tomorrow I find out you have broken Johnny's heart somehow, I will kill you very quietly, and no one will find your body."

"I'll try not to call him dude while I propose," joked Evan weakly.

Stéphane was not amused. "See that you do not," he said, and stepped away from the door.

Johnny burst out, hands on his hips. "I'm going to kick both of you out of my apartment. There is no keeping secrets unless it involves presents for me!"

"Perhaps it does!" said Stéphane gaily. "Evan and I, we have much to discuss for tomorrow night." He winked at Evan.

"I hate both of you!" Johnny pouted, stomping into the kitchen.

Stéphane said, "Then I shall leave you alone to discuss this hatred."

"You just got here!" Johnny objected.

"Ah, but I am retired now, I can come and go as I please," Stéphane smiled. "Give me a hug, my friend, and I will see you tomorrow."

Johnny looked bewildered and belligerent, but he hugged Stéphane.

Stéphane hugged Evan, too, but it was less a hug and more an attempt to warn him through near asphyxiation. "Tomorrow," said Stéphane darkly.

"Absolutely," Evan agreed. He had no idea what he would have figured out by tomorrow, but there was always a chance that by tomorrow he'd wake up back in his own world, instead of stuck here trying to plan a proposal on short notice to someone he barely knew.

Stéphane left, but Johnny's curiosity and pouting were off the charts of anything Evan had ever seen before. "So, uh," Evan said. "Done napping?"

"Do you actually think I'm stupid?" Johnny demanded. "You're the most awkward liar in the world, just tell me what it is and I'll pretend to be surprised tomorrow, okay?"

Evan considered that, but it wasn't really going to work unless he found the ring. He definitely would have bought one, he just needed to work out where he had hidden it. "No," said Evan. "It's going to be a surprise."

Johnny crossed his arms. "It's not my birthday."

"Right," Evan agreed, looking around the living room. He couldn't have left the ring in a drawer, because it looked like Johnny organized all the drawers.

"And it's not your birthday."

"Not yet," Evan said. Would he have kept it somewhere besides the house? Where would be a safe place? At the rink, maybe, but they shared that ice with other people during the day, so that didn't sound right, either.

"Evan!" Johnny snapped, stomping his foot. "Tell me right now, or I swear to god, I will go to my mother's house and I am never coming back! You can't just--"

Evan needed quiet to figure stuff out, and he needed to not fuck this up so badly that Johnny would say no if and when he found the ring. He just wanted to keep things together at the bare minimum, so when the other Evan got back his life wouldn't be ruined. There was no quiet to be had with Johnny yelling and stomping around the apartment; Evan needed to shut him up for a little while.

It was pure instinct, based on years of competing against Johnny, and a pretty good impression of what this Johnny was like in general. Evan grabbed Johnny's arms with both hands and kissed him. Johnny was stiff, trying to pull away for a second, but Evan had a hell of a height advantage and he was pretty sure Johnny didn't actually object. He'd been hinting about it all day. Sure enough, after a moment Johnny moaned and melted against Evan.

He was a really good kisser. It made Evan wonder what else he was good at. This was probably how other-Evan had gotten in to this mess in the first place. It had been years since Evan had just wanted to kiss someone like this; kissing was usually a means to an end. But Evan liked touching Johnny, he liked the way Johnny felt under his hands, and the way Johnny smelled, clean but not overly girly. He liked the way Johnny couldn't help making little noises against Evan's mouth, the way he shivered when Evan rasped his stubble against Johnny's chin or kissed his neck.

"I am not this easy," said Johnny breathlessly. He wasn't especially convincing.

"Okay," said Evan. Johnny was too short for this to work really well standing up, and Evan was abruptly totally interested in finding out what it felt like if they were less awkward, so he pushed Johnny toward the couch, kissing his collar bone until Johnny's eyes fluttered shut and he tipped his head back, purring a little bit. The couch hit Evan's knees and he fell sideways, pulling Johnny with him.

Johnny climbed on top of him. In theory Evan objected to that, but in practice having Johnny pressed against him, with his hand in Evan's hair and his other hand skimming underneath Evan's shirt, was really nice. "Don't think I'm going to give up," Johnny said. He kissed Evan's neck, right at the spot that made Evan groan. Of course Johnny would know about that spot, Evan reminded himself. He was having trouble concentrating on anything, including remembering why this was a bad idea.

Surely he'd had a reason not to do this before, hadn't he? Evan leaned back against the arm of the couch. Johnny was undoing the buttons on Evan's shirt with the quick fingers of long practice. Evan would have reciprocated, but his brain was starting to short out.

Why hadn't he done this before? Johnny was so good at it. Johnny leaned over and started licking Evan's nipple. He had the advantage here; Evan had only made out with one other dude, and that had been an awkward, drunken mistake. Johnny had years of working Evan's erogenous zones.

"I bet I could get you to tell me anything right now," said Johnny smugly.

"Nuh uh," Evan managed, trying to remember to breathe.

"Oh, please," said Johnny, sitting up. "One half-decent blowjob and you're putty in my hands. Are you kidding?"

There was no universe in which Evan could stand Johnny being that self-satisfied. He growled a little and grabbed Johnny, because there wasn't really room to roll easily on the couch. Evan was a little too tall to fit comfortably, but it gave him an advantage, leverage-wise. He managed to shove Johnny over so he had his back against the back of the couch and swing one of his legs over Johnny's, grinding down deliberately to hear Johnny gasp.

"You are... so predictable," Johnny said, losing his breath. He was flushed and panting and Evan needed a lot of skin, right now. He grabbed Johnny's shirt with a little less finesse than he maybe should have and started yanking. "Oww, my elbow, my necklace is caught in my hair," Johnny objected, squirming around so Evan could drag his shirt off. Evan hadn't been awake enough earlier to appreciate how Johnny was all muscle and soft skin, but he did now.

Evan ran his hands over Johnny's stomach, fascinated. "Do you moisturize this?" he asked. Even Tanith hadn't felt so silky.

"Stop making fun of me," Johnny ordered. He pulled Evan closer, pressing their bare chests together. It felt really, really good.

Evan needed to remember to do this when he got home. Definitely.

"There isn't enough room on the couch," Johnny said, in a rough, scratchy voice. "Bedroom?"

That was the word that tripped the panic switch in Evan's brain. Making out on the couch was awesome, and if it ended up involving mouths and hands and nakedness he was fine. But the bedroom was where sex happened.

Evan did not have sex with dudes. Not even pretty, pretty dudes with girly hands who were trying to get inside his pants. Evan liked it when people got inside his pants, he actively encouraged it. He just wasn't ready for Johnny fucking Weir to be inside his pants.

"Wait, hang on, whoa," said Evan, scrambling backwards and falling off the couch. He landed on his ass with an undignified thump.

Johnny sat up. His hair was so clearly sex hair that for a minute Evan could only sit and blink at him. "Hang on why?" Johnny demanded. "What is up with you today? Did I do something? Are you mad at me?" He was trying really hard to sound angry, but he didn't. He sounded plaintive. He straightened his necklace out and ran a hand through his hair.

"No," said Evan. "Just... Frank and Galina didn't give us an afternoon off to screw around, you know?" He tried to kick his brain into high gear and think of another reason Frank might have given him the afternoon off, but Evan had never asked for an afternoon off, and Frank had never offered one. That wasn't how he worked.

"Okay," said Johnny, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I guess."

He sounded sad. Evan had heard Johnny sound pissy and bitchy and angry and haughty and nasty and ridiculous, but in all his years of sitting a couple of chairs over from the guy with cameras in their faces he had never heard Johnny sound sad. Dude doesn't get sad in public. He trusts you, Evan's brain told him. It sounded disapproving.

Evan was supposed to be making Johnny deliriously happy, and instead he was bumming him out. Minus a million, billion points for Evan Lysacek, he decided.

"No, c'mon, don't be like that," he said, just barely catching himself when he wanted to call Johnny dude. "We looked kind of crappy on the ice today, and we need some time off to get back into the competitive headspace," Evan improvised. "Relaxing, not getting worked up. Oh shit, doesn't Galina not let you..." He paused and kind of waggled his head at Johnny. He had heard.... things... about Galina.

Johnny rolled his eyes. "I'm not supposed to, but that doesn't mean I don't ever," he said. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on.

"Before the Olympics?" Evan asked. "I think I promised her we wouldn't." At least, that might have been what he'd promised her. Or he might have promised her he'd use a clown car for the proposal, Evan had no idea how much the other him talked to Galina. He'd never said anything to her except one time he'd stepped on her scarf leaving the rink and she'd said something in Russian that was definitely not family friendly.

Johnny groaned. "You're supposed to like me more than you're afraid of Galina."

"I do," said Evan, a little startled to realize it was true. Galina was pretty scary. Johnny didn't look entirely reassured, though, so he added, "I uh. I love you."

Evan had said that to his parents and to the odd girlfriend right after sex. He hadn't ever expected to say it to a dude. Particularly this dude. He didn't think he'd said it very well; he sounded tentative and confused.

It seemed to be enough for Johnny, because he laughed a little bit. "I know," Johnny said. "You're so fucking lucky I know."

"Can I get back on the couch?" Evan asked uncertainly.

"You sit over there." Johnny pointed imperiously. "But don't touch me. I need my space bubble." He spent a couple of minutes rearranging his hair carefully and ignoring Evan, while Evan flipped on the TV and tried to shrink as far into the corner of the couch as he could. He didn't really want to touch Johnny right now, either. Part of him felt guilty for not being Johnny's real Evan, and part of him was insisting loudly that he was supposed to be mostly straight. Evan was starting to have doubts about that, frankly, and it wasn't freaking him out as much as he had expected.

They settled on some reality TV show about cleaning, which instantly distracted Johnny. Evan was grateful. He wished the other him had been more circumspect about his plans for tonight, because there was no way Frank was going to let him take two days off without making him see a psychologist. Tanith would probably demand to see the ring as soon as she saw both of them again, which was going to be a problem.

Plus, what the hell had the other Evan done with the ring, anyway? Johnny would have found it in any corner or drawer. Evan just needed to figure out what other-Evan's strategy had been. He needed to think more like himself.

Johnny yawned. "I am kind of run down," he confessed, moving across the couch a little bit so he was almost, but not quite, touching Evan. "I don't know why I try to keep up with your practices. I can never make it through without feeling like I got hit by a bus. Ooh, look at that closet organization system. We should install one of those, the shelf heights are adjustable."

"Totally," Evan agreed. It did sound pretty cool. Speaking of closets, a sudden thought struck him. "Hey, do I have any clothes around here you think are hideous and wish I would get rid of?"

Johnny lit up with excitement. "Are you actually offering to get rid of those unspeakable Ed Hardy t-shirts? Because so help me, you will get the blow job of a lifetime if you let me burn those."

Aha! Evan thought triumphantly. "Those are my shirts, man, you can't just destroy my collectors' items. I'll be right back," he said, standing up.

"They're disgusting," Johnny complained. "I can't believe I live with someone who uses Jon Gosselin as his fashion inspiration."

"Yeah, well..." Evan floundered for a rejoinder as he headed to the bedroom. "You dress kinda girly."

"All offers of sex are rescinded!" Johnny shouted after him.

Evan just shrugged. He knew himself pretty well, and he was fairly certain, once he located the right dresser drawer, that if he looked between the shirts that Johnny wouldn't touch for fear of contamination, there would be --

There totally was. A little black box just like in the commercials. Evan fished it out and stared at it for a long minute. The other him was really going to do this. He really, really wanted to spend the rest of his life with Johnny Weir. There had to be something there that Evan didn't understand, because he could barely imagine spending his life with, like, Kim Kardashian, let alone some high-strung dude who threw fits all the time and was always making fun of him. What the hell was the other him thinking?

But the funny thing was, he'd realized he didn't really mind this Johnny. When Johnny got snippy and pouty, he usually snapped out of it, and when Evan didn't have to think about competing against him, or worrying that Johnny would talk shit to the press, it was pretty funny stuff. Underneath all the flouncing and weird shit was an actual person, and Evan thought maybe he could even kind of like that person, if he had some time to get to know him. Johnny certainly seemed to like Evan, even though he was awkward and acting really strangely. Johnny didn't mind how much Evan practiced, or how much of his life was devoted to skating.

The sex was probably great, too, though Evan just couldn't decide if he wanted to find out or not.

No, that was a total lie. Evan desperately wanted to know what the sex was like. He just didn't want anyone touching his ass.

Evan wondered if he had big plans for the proposal; he'd asked for the day off and somehow persuaded Galina and Frank that it was necessary. That implied some kind of... something. He should check his phone and see if he'd made a reservation for dinner anywhere. He wouldn't have just wanted to hand Johnny a ring; Johnny was a high-drama kind of guy. And Evan had a pretty wide romantic streak, too. He'd never considered it seriously, but he'd always sort of thought his proposal would involve a beach and a sunset and a girl in a bikini. Johnny would probably wear a bikini if Evan asked him to. Wait, that was weird.

"Then what are you doing with those shirts?" Johnny demanded from the doorway, and then he gasped. He full-on, hands-over-his-mouth, eyes-wide-as-saucers gasped.

Evan looked at the box in his hand and said, "Uh..."

"Oh my god," said Johnny. "Are you... is that..." He was doing a strange little flappy thing with one of his hands that made it look like he was having trouble breathing.

Well, shit, Evan had totally fucked this up. So much for dinner and the beach. He hoped the other him was having better luck being him than he was being this one. That circle of thoughts made him dizzy. But there was no time like the present, and Evan believed in going for the gold, and grabbing opportunities, and being all that he could be and giving 110 percent, and always bringing his A game, so he opened the box. There was a really nice silver ring inside. Evan had probably gotten someone else to help him pick it out. For some reason Evan's hand was shaking a little, even though he knew it wasn't really his life he was about to change forever. "I was hoping..." he started. His voice was all strangled and he kind of wanted to lean against a wall for support.

"Oh my god," Johnny said again, and then he threw himself at Evan, arms around his neck. Evan was getting better at kissing Johnny, but this kiss was like Johnny was trying to devour him. It was more of an onslaught than a romantic gesture. Evan staggered backward against the wall, trying not to drop the ring while simultaneously trying not to drop Johnny. "Oh my god, you are so stupid," Johnny said, and then quickly, "and by stupid I mean wonderful. Is this why Stéphane came by?"

"Yeah," said Evan. "He was a little early."

Johnny was almost crying, holy shit. Evan hadn't expected that. "This is why you've been so weird today," Johnny said. "I totally get it now."

"Yes," Evan said. "This is why I've been so weird today. Definitely. Also, you didn't say yes yet."

"You didn't ask yet," Johnny pointed out. He was really pretty, this close up. Evan wondered if his Johnny was this good looking.

"Oh," said Evan. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Johnny, will you marry me?"

Johnny frowned. "That's it?"

Evan started to panic. The other him would have had a parade or some hot-air balloon ride or a million doves or something planned, and he didn't, and Johnny was going to say no, and--

"Kidding, I'm kidding," Johnny said, and kissed him again. "Of course yes. Of course I will."

Evan felt a huge weight lift off his chest. It was probably the worst proposal in the history of forever, but Johnny had said yes, and that was what mattered. Evan had screwed stuff up and then he had fixed it again. When he got home -- however he was going to do that -- he would have saved it for the other Evan. Plus a million points, bro! Evan told himself.

"This is why you wanted to wait before, right?" Johnny asked. He kissed Evan's neck. "God, you're so stupid about being romantic, it's really endearing."

"Huh?" asked Evan.

Johnny kissed him again, slowly and hungrily. He was pressing Evan into the wall, hitching one of his legs up over Evan's hip, but he wasn't quite high enough to press their groins together, even when Evan put both his hands under Johnny's ass and pulled him up a little. "Bed," said Johnny huskily, dragging his teeth across Evan's jaw.

"But--" Evan started, and then his lizard brain, which was screaming SEX, SEX, SEX, overruled all his other thoughts. Johnny bit him, and Evan just lifted Johnny off his feet and walked them both backwards so he could throw Johnny onto the bed.

"Come here," Johnny ordered. "Wait, put the ring somewhere safe. Now come here." Johnny held his arms up invitingly.

Evan put the ring on the bedside table and started to pull his pants off. He froze awkwardly, hands hovering over his waistband, because he knew how this worked with chicks, but was it honestly the same with dudes? Was it the same with Johnny? Was it--

"Jesus, let me," said Johnny, rolling up to his knees. He grabbed Evan's pants with both hands and yanked, pulling off his pants and underwear all at once. "Better." He waited for Evan to kick his pants off one leg and then grabbed Evan's arms with both hands, dragging him down onto the bed. Evan had never expected Johnny to be quite as strong as he was.

"You," said Evan. He was having trouble with sentences. "You... pants, too." Johnny was kneeling over him, which was okay, and he definitely approved of Johnny mouthing at his nipple like that. But there were all these layers of clothes between his dick and Johnny, and that just seemed wrong.

Johnny ran his hands up and down Evan's chest, dragging them a little bit lower every time. They brushed over Evan's tattoo and he shivered with his whole body. "You love that," Johnny smirked. "You vain bitch." He leaned down and ran his tongue over Evan's lightning bolt, necklace tickling Evan's thigh, and it was like... God, it was probably the best thing in his life ever ever ever up until today.

Except for his medals. Medals trumped licking, but only just barely.

Johnny hummed against Evan's hipbone, and Evan couldn't stop himself from making a truly embarrassing noise. "God, stop, stop," Evan said. "I'm gonna... shit, I haven't done this in a long time, I'm gonna--"

"Right, last night was so long ago," Johnny snotted. "Wait a sec." He sat up and pulled his shirt off. Evan took a second to admire just how ripped Johnny was underneath all that girly shit he wore. Then he leaned down, pressing their naked chests together, and writhing a little bit. Evan was getting sparks behind his eyes, and they hadn't even started yet.

"Pants," Evan said again, but Johnny ignored him, mouthing and biting his way along Evan's neck because he knew exactly where Evan's weak spots were. Evan managed another growl and flipped them over, so he was pinning Johnny down with his whole body. "I said pants," Evan repeated.

Johnny's eyes were darker than usual. "Did you?" he asked lightly, and then gasped when Evan leaned down and deliberately bit down on his neck. Johnny wasn't fragile like the girls Evan had slept with. Evan could bite and push and hold and Johnny just grinned and pushed back. He wasn't letting Evan have anything, he strained up against Evan's hands so that Evan had to shift his weight forward to keep Johnny from rolling out from under him.

"Mine," growled Evan. He didn't even know where that had come from, but Johnny had a ring, damn it, he had committed to Evan. Even if it wasn't really this Evan. He leaned forward to balance himself and used one of his hands to start pulling at the snaps on Johnny's warm-up pants.

"That goes both ways," said Johnny darkly, bucking his hips up against Evan. Evan shuddered a little and shifted his hand to Johnny's hip, pushing him back down.

Evan had Johnny's pants off and spent a minute enjoying the view. He'd never thought much about admiring what another dude looked like. Johnny was skinny, but he was muscular, and his ass -- what Evan could see of it -- was incredible. "Better," said Evan. And then he realized he had no idea what to do next. He'd never had sex with a dude before. With a chick he had a pretty good idea of the order of events, but with a dude he wasn't sure. He settled for leaning over and kissing Johnny until Johnny stopped trying to push up against him and went boneless, moaning against Evan's mouth.

Evan's only frame of reference was felt good to him, so he tried it on Johnny, sneaking one of his hands down between them, where his cock was rubbing against Johnny's. He told himself that it wasn't any weirder than jacking himself off when wrapped his hand around the base of Johnny's cock.

"Oh, daddy," Johnny groaned. Evan almost laughed, but he didn't have the extra breath.

"You dork," he said instead. Johnny closed his eyes, lashes dark against his pale skin. His cheeks were pink like they had been after skating, and his chest was starting to heave. Evan wanted to make him look like that all the time. His hand was a little dry so he let go to lick it.

"Let me," said Johnny, pulling on his arm. Evan's whole arm tingled. Johnny looked at him through his lashes and sucked one of Evan's fingers into his mouth. It was obscene, and Evan's brain was on the verge of shorting out. Johnny skimmed his teeth over the tip of Evan's finger and then let it pull out of his mouth with a long, loud, wet noise. Evan closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths, reminding himself not to come before they'd even done anything.

Evan leaned down and kissed Johnny, trying to breathe and hold him still while he concentrated on getting himself under control again. Johnny let him, but his hands were starting to roam, running up Evan's back and down his ass, brushing lightly around places that Evan had never let anyone touch him before. He tried to squirm away, but "away" was "forward," which meant rubbing up against Johnny's dick. It should have been weird, but mostly it was the best foreplay ever.

Johnny pushed Evan's hand back down, guiding him so that he was holding both of their dicks together loosely. Evan began running his hand up and down, enjoying the familiar feel of his own cock and the strange, heavy, velvety feel of Johnny's, and how every time they touched little sparks of lightning ran up and down his spine. Johnny arched his back, groaning and gasping. Evan had never slept with someone so vocal.

Evan told himself that his strategy was to get Johnny off first, because that was the gentlemanly thing to do. He started rocking back and forth, grateful for the strength that let him hold himself up over Johnny with one arm. He concentrated on watching Johnny's face as he moved his hand, and anytime Johnny reacted, he filed that away as ten points for himself. Johnny's face was so easy to read. Evan figured out almost immediately that he was moving too quickly and slowed down, watching Johnny go simultaneously pale and even more flushed. Johnny tipped his head back and made soft, helpless little noises, broken "ah ah ah" noises and breathy gasps. Evan's shoulder was starting to ache a little, but it was totally worth it.

Johnny pushed his heels against the bed and arched up against Evan and groaned, digging one hand into Evan's back, grabbing the blankets with the other and twisting them around his hand. He came all over Evan's hand and his stomach and it should have been freaky weird, but Evan was mostly grateful that he could bend his arm and collapse down on top of Johnny and just breathe for a minute.

"Ohhhh, my god," Johnny said. He pushed a little at Evan's shoulder. "You're squishing me, you big lump."

"Suck it," Evan mumbled against Johnny's shoulder. He was never moving again, not even for his dick, which was trying to let him know it wasn't done with the proceedings yet.

"I will, if you get off me," Johnny said. He sounded tired, but game. Evan groaned and flopped over onto his side. "You know I'd rather do this first, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness tonight." He pushed himself up with a noise like his joints ached and crawled on top of Evan. Evan totally appreciated the view of Johnny's ass.

And then Johnny's mouth was on his dick, and Evan couldn't appreciate anything else. His hips jerked up automatically and Johnny choked a little, pushing him back down with an annoyed noise. Evan had gotten blowjobs before, plenty of them, but rarely when he was so turned on and never from anyone whose mouth knew him as well as Johnny's did. Any hesitation he'd had about sex with dudes was obliterated by how fucking talented Johnny was with his tongue and the way he knew just the right pressure to suck with, and the feel of his hands on Evan's thighs, rubbing tiny circles against the crease of his leg. Evan made a hugely embarrassing noise, and Johnny started humming, swirling his tongue around the head of Evan's cock. He didn't even have time to warn Johnny before he was coming, stars shooting behind his eyes and sparks running up and down his arms and legs.

He hadn't realized he was arching against Johnny until he relaxed and his ass went back down against the blankets. His legs were trembling a little and his chest ached. "I never," he gasped. "In my life."

"Engaged sex is the best sex," said Johnny smugly, and then flopped down next to Evan.

"I think that was the best sex I ever had," Evan said. His brain was still offline, fuzzy and blinking like an unprogrammed VCR.

Johnny snuggled up against his side, throwing one leg over Evan's and an arm across Evan's chest. His hair tickled Evan's nose. "Did you seriously get the day off just for this?" he asked. "Because in the four years we've been dating, you've never taken a personal day. I've learned to work around it, obviously, but this is pretty earth shattering."

"You're worth it," Evan said. He was a little surprised himself, but it wasn't like he could have skated after that.

"Love you," yawned Johnny. He poked Evan's side. "Give me the ring, I want to put it on."

Evan flailed out with one arm until he found the box and pulled it over. "Here."

Johnny opened he box and pulled out the ring, slipping it on his finger. "Shiny!" he enthused, holding his hand up for Evan to admire. "Isn't it perfect? It's perfect."

Evan was having trouble keeping his eyes open, honestly. "Glad you like it," he mumbled, kissing the top of Johnny's head. Johnny curled up against him with a contented noise, and Evan dozed off.

--

Evan woke up aching all over and feeling muddled.

That, he decided, had been the weirdest, most vivid dream he'd ever had. He couldn't decide if he wanted to try to drift off, hopefully for more dreamtime sex, or if he needed to get up and take the world's coldest shower and forget all about his subconscious's apparent secret love of dick.

Then he opened his eyes and realized that he was still in Johnny's bedroom, and Johnny was sleeping on top of him like a bony human furnace, and his stomach sank.

If it wasn't a dream, and if going back to sleep didn't fix it, was he stuck here? Evan's stomach started flipping back and forth and he felt cold all over. Evan was abruptly desperately homesick. He wanted his own bed and his own training sessions and his own life, where he knew what was going on and what was coming next. How long could he fake being engaged to Johnny before he ruined it? What if he had to get married to him? What if he had to skate pairs with Tanith at the Olympics?

Johnny made a sleepy noise against his chest. It was dark out, but of course it hadn't even been dinner time when they'd accidentally gotten engaged and fallen asleep. It was probably the middle of the night. Evan's stomach protested skipping dinner after a long workout. He wondered if Johnny kept food around the house. Then he wondered if Johnny knew how to cook, because Evan pretty much lived on protein shakes and protein bars and take-out from the health food store.

Evan put his hand in Johnny's hair and played absently with the curls for a minute, trying to decide if he should sneak out from underneath him and scrounge for food, or wake him up and try to come up with some kind of celebratory meal. Frank would kill him if he ate too much, but he'd keel over in practice if he didn't eat anything.

"Feels nice," mumbled Johnny. He pushed up into Evan's hand like a cat being petted. "S'up?"

"We missed dinner," said Evan. His stomach growled and Johnny laughed, huffing a little against Evan's chest.

"Food and sex," Johnny said, yawning. "I'm marrying a caveman."

Evan bristled a little at that, but then Johnny rolled out of bed, ran a hand through his hair, and stretched, and holy shit, that was a nice view. Evan decided to let the comment go. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked instead.

Johnny glared over his shoulder, but it was a pouty, deliberate glare, like he knew Evan was actually looking at his ass. "I'll cook you something, relax," Johnny said. He put on his discarded track pants, which was a shame, in Evan's opinion. "Hey look, I have sixty-three text messages," Johnny said, picking up his phone. "Paris, Paris, Paris, Stéphane, Tanith, Paris, Paris, my mom, Jeremy, Paris, Zhenya..." He looked up incredulously. "Did you tell everyone we've ever met that you were proposing tonight?"

"Unfortunately," said Evan. He sat up, aching a little bit everywhere, but in a good way. "What are you going to cook?"

"Chicken and vegetables, what else are we allowed to eat before the Olympics? Honestly, I'm kind of surprised you didn't wait so we could celebrate in style."

Now that Johnny mentioned it, so was Evan. Maybe the other him had been impatient. He pulled his sweatpants on and followed Johnny out to the kitchen. Johnny opened the fridge, texting with one hand and pulling food out with the other. Evan was starving. "Can I help?" he asked.

Johnny glared at him. "Do you want burned dinner? Sit over there and don't bother me," he ordered, pointing.

Evan pulled a stool up to the counter and watched Johnny start doing things with the oven and chicken breast and spices. Johnny was humming to himself, Britney or Gaga or something super gay that Evan pretended not to recognize. The idea of living with someone who knew how to cook was actually really appealing, and he was starting to suspect how the other him had gotten sucked into this relationship. Good sex and good food, and -- okay, maybe Evan was a little bit caveman. But it would be sort of nice to have someone else around.

"Roasted peppers," said Johnny. Evan made a face. "Stop it, you love them the way I make them."

Evan was still feeling half-asleep and tired all over. "You know what I never thought about?" he asked. "I never thought about it being nice to have someone else around the apartment. I always really liked having my own space, you know?"

Johnny laughed. "Oh, I know. Do you think I forgot how you paid for a whole separate apartment in California for a year, even though you were only there twice?"

That did kind of sound like a thing Evan would do. "That was a while ago," he hazarded. Surely if he'd proposed he'd gotten his shit together since then.

"Which means you only freak out about sharing a lease once a month, instead of once a week," said Johnny, rolling his eyes affectionately. He put dinner in the stove. Evan wondered if the other him spent as much time admiring Johnny's ass when he leaned over, or if he was used to it. Was Evan's Johnny's ass this nice? Evan had never bothered to look. "It's okay, I don't mind anymore, now that I get how weird you are on the inside. People think I'm the uptight one, but that's just because they've never seen you the night before competition. You have to touch the lightswitch five times, you have to wear the same socks as last year, you have to eat the same breakfast as last year... it's cute."

Evan was momentarily surprised he'd let Johnny know how crazy he was before a competition, but then he realized he probably couldn't have hidden it for four years of dating. "We started dating around the Olympics?" Evan blurted, doing the math suddenly.

"At the Olympics, I like to say," Johnny smirked. "Don't think I forgot you trying to use your medal to pick me up. You're such an asshole. Nice shoulders, though." He leaned on the counter and ran a hand up Evan's bicep, and Evan's brain went momentarily off-line.

"The Olympic Village is a good time to meet people," he said. In his own reality he'd had some really good sex that week.

"Yeah, well, you basically stalked me all week after I turned you down cold," Johnny said. "So I think it's fair to call that sushi dinner our first date. Even if you used Tanith to get me there."

It was super awkward, getting Johnny to talk about something Evan should have been aware of. "Uh... no, I didn't," Evan tried.

Johnny rolled his eyes and put his hand on his hip, giving Evan the sassy pursed-lip look he'd perfected. "You had her ask me to dinner and then you just showed up 'by accident.' You're not still going to claim that was a coincidence."

"It was," Evan said. Yeah, that sounded like him. He tried to imagine himself hitting on Johnny instead of just wanting to slap him all through the last Olympics for his douchey Russia jacket. Evan wasn't great at asking people out, though, and using Tanith seemed like a really good plan. "You were charmed," Evan said. At least, things had gone better after that.

"You were like, the most awkward person I'd ever talked to in my entire life," Johnny said. He patted Evan's hand. "I say that with love, but seriously, when you're nervous? You're all elbows, like a big... like a bird or something. And you were still tanning yourself the color of a tangerine." Johnny shuddered dramatically.

It hadn't occurred to Evan, but he glanced at his hand. It was a bit paler than he was used to. "I live in California," he protested. "It's a natural tan."

"Are you naturally orange?" Johnny grimaced. "The first time you slept over you turned my silk sheets colors. It was gross. And your hair gel got all over my pillow. Ick. That's still a condition of you living here, don't think you're getting back to that just because I have a ring on my finger."

What a weird relationship they had. "You don't get to just make conditions," Evan said. He was a little offended on his other self's behalf.

"I've got my morning routine down to half an hour," Johnny said, as if it pained him. "And only three suitcases when we travel. And I took away Paris's key to the apartment, so he can't wander in when you're naked. What else do you want from me?"

"But you get something out of... this," Evan said, waving his hand around vaguely. Obviously the other Evan got dinner and awesome sex and someone who didn't mind his nervous tics. "It's not just... you don't spend all your time just trying to make me happy, do you?"

Johnny quirked his mouth up into a smile. "You're sweet," he said. "It's nice of you to worry, but no, I've managed to keep my entire universe from revolving around Evan Lysacek's happiness." Evan flushed a little; he hadn't meant it like that. "It makes me feel a little better that sometimes you doubt that I love you, and I love this, and I want to be here. I'm a free bitch, baby. If I wanted to go, I'd go."

"But you don't," Evan said.

Johnny leaned over the counter and kissed him. "I don't," he agreed. "I was... I mean, I wasn't lonely, before. Or if I was, I was dealing with it. I won medals, I skated, I got by. My family is so great, you know? But there's only so much... I mean, when I fall on the ice? Or when I fall in competition? I don't know how I'd get up without someone to come home to, who knows what it's like. My mom is great, she loves me so much, I know she's always in my corner. But it's never been her out there, with those judges and the cameras and the fans. You know what it's like to have your whole career resting on how well you do one jump, in one second of your life. You know what it feels like to win, and you know what it feels like to lose, and I just... I didn't even know how alone I felt until I had you. I should tell you that more often." He gave Evan that smile again, the shy one, the one Evan had never seen on his Johnny, back in his world.

"I didn't know you felt that way," Evan choked. "You always seemed so confident and loud and happy to be there."

"Well, you always seemed so confident and focused and driven," Johnny shrugged. "I didn't know you were lonely, either. See how well we worked out? It's funny, too, because I remember my mom meeting you and saying we'd either kill each other or get married, and I thought she was crazy." Johnny picked up his phone. "She's only texted me five times. 'How are you?' 'How is Evan?' "Having a good night?' 'Call me!!' 'ANYTHING GOING ON?'" Johnny started laughing. "She must have been going crazy all day, this is her dream. Stéphane said something about a party, didn't he? Were we going to make a big announcement?"

"My timing was a little off," Evan admitted. "It'll be tomorrow, pretend to be surprised, okay?"

Johnny held his hand out, admiring the ring. "I think I'm suitably distracted, so I won't ask too many questions. Athough, wait, where's your ring?"

"Uh," said Evan. "I guess I figured you'd want to pick it out." That sounded reasonable. Then he tried to imagine what kind of engagement ring Johnny Weir would pick out, and winced. "Nothing that lights up or is covered in Swarovski diamonds, okay?"

Johnny pouted. "You're taking the fun out of this. What if I make it pink?"

"What if you don't?"

"It's going to look weird at the party, if I have a ring and you don't. We can go shopping tomorrow, maybe, I have a ton of ideas. I want it engraved, obviously. And I can't wait to tell people the incredibly romantic story of how we got engaged." Johnny switched to his fake lispy voice. "I was sitting on the couch and Evan was looking for a t-shirt, and I walked in on him holding a ring! Can you believe it? It should be a movie, I know."

Evan flushed a little. "You interrupted me," he said. "I had plans. Uh... dinner. And um, stuff."

Johnny smiled affectionately. "You probably kept a spreadsheet of all the different places I like to eat and assigned each one a point value, to determine where your best chance of success was," he said. "This was better."

Evan was a little ashamed of what a good idea that sounded like. "Maybe," he hedged, because if he found his laptop it was possible the other him had been doing exactly that.

"It's okay, I think it's cute." Johnny patted his hand and then turned to the stove to get the food. It smelled amazing. "Like, remember last Christmas, when you got me a white sweater because you said I was 23 percent more likely to wear a white sweater in January than any other color? You are the most thoughtful robot I've ever dated." He grinned a little to himself. "I mean, gotten engaged to. Oooh, I like the way that sounds. I'm gonna call my mom, okay? I can't go on living without talking to my mom." He put a plate full of delicious-looking food in front of Evan and then picked up his phone and hit speed dial. "Mama? It's Johnny, I-- He did! Isn't it wonderful?"

Evan ate dinner and pretended not to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to celebrate listening to Johnny say nice things about him. He'd never heard that back in his universe. He needed to figure out a way to get back there, but in the meantime he could enjoy this.

--

It turned out talking to his mom didn't make Johnny less likely to want to have sex again. And it turned out Evan didn't actually mind Johnny's hands and mouth and tongue being near his ass if he was warned about it ahead of time. It also turned out that Johnny did know exactly where on Evan's inner thigh to bite, and that accidentally spanking Johnny made him moan and then laugh, and that sometimes Johnny insulted Evan just to get him to shove him against things, and that Evan really, really liked sex when it involved being playful and competitive and open to doing just about anything, instead of just a way to get off.

"I really didn't expect today to turn out like this," Evan said, looking at the ceiling. "But it's been okay, you know? Better than expected."

"Uh huh," Johnny said. He ran his hand over Evan's chest, back and forth. His fingers were warm and the ring was cool and it was way too soon for Evan to be ready to have sex again, but the idea flickered through his brain anyway.

"No, I mean, you have no idea how much this wasn't in my plan for today," Evan said.

"Yeah," Johnny mumbled. "I had to beg and plead to get you here."

The image of Johnny begging and pleading caught up to Evan's hopeful thought about sex, and his dick twitched in spite of its current exhaustion. "No, I mean..." he said, and then stopped, because he couldn't tell Johnny that he didn't even like him, so he was pretty surprised at how much he liked being in love with him. "Did you think we'd end up here?" he asked.

"Never in a million years," Johnny said. He yawned. He'd been mostly asleep for the last half hour, and Evan felt bad for keeping him awake. He was just afraid if he went to sleep he might wake up here again, and that would mean he was stuck here forever. "Now, shhh. Galina's going to kill us both tomorrow."

Part of him was afraid if he went to sleep he'd wake up at home, too, but Evan shouted that voice down with a vengeance.

"Me, neither," said Evan a little sadly, and then he stopped talking because Johnny's breathing had evened out. Evan turned on his side so he could wrap his arms around Johnny and tried not to think about whether he wanted to leave, or to stay.

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