(no subject)
Title: Before, During, After
Rating: Light R
Characters: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir, Stephane Lambiel/Johnny Weir, Yu-Na Kim/Stephane Lambiel
Summary: Semi-sequel to I'll Whisper Only Once. Scenes from a World Championship.
Disclaimer: Work of fiction. Never really happened.
Evan knew he was lucky to get Johnny's company this week. He was only here for a couple of days, and of those, what time was not spent doing interviews, PR work, or meeting with fans was mostly spent having sex with Stephane Lambiel. There certainly would not be sex with Johnny this week for anyone besides that insatiable Swiss. He might not have seen him at all if not for a certain promise Johnny had made to him a month ago.
When Evan had broken up with Tanith, it had cut short his visit to Pennsylvania, and he had ended up driving to New Jersey and to Johnny to recuperate. Johnny had taken him in, told him it was going to be okay and that he was allowed to cry if he wanted to, and let Evan fuck him into the mattress. He had also showed Evan some new massage techniques he had recently learned, and when Evan commented he could use those at Worlds Johnny promised he'd give him a massage before the men's long if he happened to be in the area. At the time, of course, the assumption had been that he wouldn't be in the area. But now he was, it was the morning before the long, and Evan was currently laid out on the bed on top of a towel, and Johnny was working his hands on his back and making him groan.
"For someone who claims to be so relaxed here," said Johnny, "you are ridiculously tense."
"I guess I am getting nervous," said Evan, then sighed as Johnny found and rubbed on a knot below his shoulders.
"Nerves are good," said Johnny, "at least in moderation. Nerves mean you think you can win this thing, right?"
"Oh, I definitely think I can win it. I'm just trying to forget that for the moment, you know? Owwwwww...ooh..." Evan relaxed as Johnny defeated a particularly hard muscle near his hips. "Careful..." he warned.
"Always," said Johnny. His fingers moved near Evan's ass; he'd be doing his legs, too in a minute. Evan entertained a tiny fantasy of his fingers moving further down, touching...which Evan absolutely could not let him do between the short and long program. He didn't do it, anyway. Instead he moved his hands to Evan's other side and began carefully working on the muscles there. It felt good; some part of Evan would even think it was better than sex.
"With those bandages on your foot," Johnny commented, "I hope you're not going to try that quad."
"No," said Evan, "though don't tell anyone about the foot; I kind of want to keep that under wraps until after the competition."
"Is it really that bad?"
"I'm dealing with it," he said gruffly. Johnny made a skeptical noise, but dropped the subject.
As he moved down to Evan's legs, he commented on their size. "I've never really looked at them like this, you know. They always seem longer than I think they are."
"Hey, it's established fact I'm tall, right?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to irritate you. It's just...interesting, doing this."
"I hope you don't mind." Johnny had seemed like he really didn't, but Evan still had trouble believing that.
"I can't say this was my first choice of how to spend Worlds, Evan, but I really am good with it. It's better than sitting around and moping at home."
"Well, you shouldn't be doing that," said Evan. "You've still got the team event, I've no doubt."
"I'm not going."
Evan laughed. "Oh, they'll ask you. I'm, like, dead certain of that. Especially with Jeremy having problems."
"They asked me. When I got here. Informally, of course. I said no."
"What?" Evan pulled himself out from Johnny's hands and turned around to stare at him. "Why?" It made no sense. It worked perfectly with Johnny's schedule, it was low pressure, it would get him a lot of money which Evan was under the impression he needed, and if he'd been preparing for Worlds surely he was ready.
"I'm just..." Johnny shook his head, his shoulders sagged, and though he'd been stubbornly cheerful the entire time he'd been here, Evan could see a clear crack in his armor here. "I'm not up to facing it. Getting sent there would remind me how I failed to come here; I know plenty of people here will go there, but I really can't look at it any other way. I'd probably skate awfully and lose whatever dignity I've preserved from this season." His eyes looked too bright.
"Don't cry, Johnny, please don't," said Evan softly, and impulsively placed an arm on Johnny's shoulders. His other hand brushed his chest, and he felt Johnny take a couple of breaths.
Then Johnny pulled away, saying, "Thanks; I'm all right. Lie back down so I can finish."
Evan obeyed, and Johnny set upon his legs in earnest, carefully avoiding touching the injured foot too much, then going back up, all the way to Evan's shoulders, which he ground his thumbs into one last time. Evan let himself melt under Johnny's hands, feeling languid, mildly aroused, and generally contented and peaceful.
"Evan," Johnny's voice was lower, serious. "When you skate tonight, I won't be there."
"I understand."
"But I want you to win. I mean, I seriously want you to win."
"Believe me, it's what I'll be trying to do."
"Don't sound doubtful like that," said Johnny very close to Evan's ear; the bed shifted as he sat down by Evan's head.
"Any more advice?"
He meant it only half-seriously, but he realized a moment later that Johnny would respond in earnest.
"Well," he said, "if you're not going for the quad, then make it a moment. You've always been good, of course, at throwing everything you've got into a program, but I don't think you've ever really enjoyed it. It seems to me your mind's always been racing, yelling 'Do, do, do, win, win, win!'"
"Right," said Evan, but it didn't sound as dismissive as he tried to make it sound, and Johnny no doubt could tell that.
"You know what I really want to hear tonight, because even if I'm not there, I'll definitely know what's going on. I want to hear that when you finished your skate, you grinned and pumped the air. I want you to have a night and a skate you'll bask in forever, even if you don't win. I want you to be so happy, you don't care where you finish, because that's the best feeling in the world. Well, you don't care much."
Anyone else and Evan would ask what they were trying to do making such a speech to him. But Johnny probably just meant it. "Thanks," he said.
Leaning down, Johnny pressed his hands against Evan's cheeks and kissed him. "Good luck," he whispered. Then he stood up and walked out of the hotel room. Evan doubted he would see him again here in LA, but that was okay.
***
Stephane had gone to collect Johnny from Mulholland Drive after the men's competition. He'd found him sitting, staring at the sky, looking less happy or sad than just peaceful.
"So..." Stephane had started.
Johnny had nodded. "It happened."
They hadn't talked about it after that. They'd gone back to the hotel and made love, and while Stephane would be lying if he said the amount of thought Johnny had clearly given Evan hadn't made him jealous, after a night of having Johnny in his arms begging to have Stephane inside him, whispering Stephane's name and looking into his eyes as Stephane pounded him, moaning and sighing with every touch, giving Stephane his biggest smile when they were done and pulling him down for endless kisses, he was feeling much better about that.
That wasn't even counting the repeat performance in the morning, at the end of which Stephane collapsed on top of Johnny, barely able to exert the strength to move and let Johnny get out from under him, and then seriously considered not moving ever again. This whole trip to LA had been a lot more tiring than he thought it would be.
Unlike Johnny, who didn't seem tired at all. "You know what the strangest thing is?" he asked. Stephane made a noncomittal noise. "I never before realized just how many people are at Worlds. Even if they're not competing, they somehow end up there anyway. I talked with Mirai about it; it's her first Worlds, you know." Stephane tried to remember who Mirai was; he was sure he should, but he was way too tired. He thought Johnny might have mentioned her before. "I don't remember being overwhelmed, the way she's been, in Dortmond, though. Moscow, on the other hand...maybe it depends on how the big the city is. Did you think there were a lot of people at your first Worlds?" Stephane made a second noncommittal noise. "You're not really paying attention to me, are you?" A third.
"But you know what really amazes me?" he continued. A fourth noise. "Will you stop that? No, what really amazes me is that I'm so wanted here. Even though I didn't qualify, even though my season stunk." Stephane opened his mouth to say his season hadn't stunk, but Johnny was going on. "I mean, I've always known people have liked me, but this is something else."
"Kind of wish I could stay longer," said Johnny. "See the ladies finish up, see Yu-Na win-hopefully," he hastily adds, not wanting to tempt fate. "Spend more time with you."
"It won't be long until we're together again," said Stephane, finally finding the energy to talk again, if only in French.
"Ah," Johnny responded in kind, "but too long still." He glanced at the clock, "God," he muttered in English, "do I have to get up already?"
"Duty calls," replied Stephane. "Did you know, I think you said Yu-Na wanted to talk with you at least a little this morning?"
"Ah yes, again," sighed Johnny, but he didn't sound upset. "You know she'll want you to fulfill my duties after I leave. All of them."
That little piece of news was enough to get Stephane to start violently. "You mean she expects me to..." He made a vaguely obscene gesture.
"Hey, I warned her what you're like," grinned Johnny, "but she said she thinks after these past few months, she can handle anything. You will have people being very confused if you turn her down, you know. I don't think I need to tell you there are guys who would kill to be in your shoes. Some of them are even here."
"Then why can't she sleep with them?!"
"Because she wants you." Johnny was very amused by all this. "She's intrigued by you-largely because you're my boyfriend, no doubt, but I don't think that's all there is to it; I think she wants you for you, too, so you don't have to reject her on those grounds. At least consider it. She's...good. Very passionate." Unwilling to say anything cruder, he left it at that.
Stephane had not yet tired of hearing Johnny call him his "boyfriend." It was another reason for him to kiss him, even as Johnny pulled away, looking again at the clock. "I promise nothing," he said to Johnny.
***
Yu-Na collapsed back onto the mattress panting heavily, completely boneless and a little wrecked up. Johnny hadn't been kidding when he'd described Stephane as "a real hurricane in bed." She suspected he'd held back slightly with her, that he really unleashed with Johnny, but she was more than contented with what she'd gotten.
Next to her, strangely enough, Stephane seemed to be blushing a little. "You like?" he asked.
"Think so," she gasped. "But tonight, I like everything."
"Ah," he said knowingly. "Where is your medal?"
It had to be somewhere on the floor, which of course wouldn't do, and Yu-Na forced herself up long enough to spot the ribbon and scoop it up. She fell back down with the gold settling between her breasts. Stephane picked up the ribbon and pulled it behind her head so she technically had it around her neck. "Will you sleep like that?" he asked. "I remember when I win my first, I sleep all night holding it in my hand."
"Maybe," said Yu-Na. It still looked unreal, glimmering there on her sweat-covered skin. Here, she thought, was an advantage of being with Stephane instead of Johnny, in the kind of conversation she could have with him. "When you won in Moscow," she asked him, "did you have a moment during the program?"
"During the program?" he looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Like during my spiral sequence," she said. "I had done the second lutz, and the audience was so, so alive, and for a moment all I could think was, 'Is this really happening? Am I really doing this?' And then I miss the salchow, and I concentrate again. And with you, Johnny said to me once, after your second quad, everyone knew you had won."
"Ah, but you can afford to miss the salchow," he said, shaking his head. "I had missed the axel at the beginning of my program, and I was not so great as you. I could not stop to think until I was done skating, and I could not believe it until I had my score."
Not so great as you. The words echoed in Yu-Na's head, the still incomprehensible probability of how many fellow world champions, even, would say that to her. "It was not even just the gold," she whispered. "When I was a little girl, and I dreamed, it was a big dream for me to make the top ten. Sometimes when I was more excited I would dream of a medal, at Olympics usually, or at Worlds."
"You never dreamed of gold?" he asked.
"No, it is not that. I did not dream of it usually, no, but sometimes, when I would watch videos of Michelle Kwan, or Midori Ito, or I would otherwise have a bigger dream than usual, yes, I would dream of this. But even then, and even these past few years, when I start to think maybe I can win...in my wildest dreams, I never thought it would be like this." She shivered remembering it, the audience on its feet, the world records, but most of all, the whispers around her, and more than whispers, calling her a legend; the air itself seeming to echo it. It still seemed a little ridiculous that this should happen to her, that she should be this kind of winner beyond winners.
"Ma modeste cherie," said Stephane, and kissed her as she shivered again. "This is a wonderful feeling, is it not?"
"I have never felt anything better. I wish everyone could know what this is like. I wish..." For the first time that night a trace of sadness crept into her heart, her one regret of this World Championships. "I wish Johnny could know."
Stephane nodded heavily. "I wish that too," he whispered, and she could hear the deep love this man bore for him. It was enough to make her love him as she loved Johnny, and hope for the two of them to be the happiest men on Earth together.
"Do you think he will go to Torino next year?" she asked. "He said earlier he did not think he would go, but, maybe to make up for not coming here?"
"I think it will depend on how he does in Vancouver. If he wins the gold, he will not need anything else. Maybe he will even be happy with a medal now. Maybe, perhaps, after Vancouver, he will give up. He is very tired, you know."
"I know," said Yu-Na. He'd showed signs of it, in retrospect, even at the Grand Prix Finale, and when he visited her in Toronto, and here.
"And you?" he asked. "Will you go to Torino?"
Yu-Na shook her head. "If I had not won here, maybe. But now, I can not. To try to do this again would be too much." It would take all she had, she knew, to perform again under the pressure of Vancouver.
"That is probably true," Stephane agreed, moving in for another kiss. She met him halfway, threading her fingers through his beautiful hair, and submerged herself into the night's overwhelming happiness once again.
Rating: Light R
Characters: Evan Lysacek/Johnny Weir, Stephane Lambiel/Johnny Weir, Yu-Na Kim/Stephane Lambiel
Summary: Semi-sequel to I'll Whisper Only Once. Scenes from a World Championship.
Disclaimer: Work of fiction. Never really happened.
Evan knew he was lucky to get Johnny's company this week. He was only here for a couple of days, and of those, what time was not spent doing interviews, PR work, or meeting with fans was mostly spent having sex with Stephane Lambiel. There certainly would not be sex with Johnny this week for anyone besides that insatiable Swiss. He might not have seen him at all if not for a certain promise Johnny had made to him a month ago.
When Evan had broken up with Tanith, it had cut short his visit to Pennsylvania, and he had ended up driving to New Jersey and to Johnny to recuperate. Johnny had taken him in, told him it was going to be okay and that he was allowed to cry if he wanted to, and let Evan fuck him into the mattress. He had also showed Evan some new massage techniques he had recently learned, and when Evan commented he could use those at Worlds Johnny promised he'd give him a massage before the men's long if he happened to be in the area. At the time, of course, the assumption had been that he wouldn't be in the area. But now he was, it was the morning before the long, and Evan was currently laid out on the bed on top of a towel, and Johnny was working his hands on his back and making him groan.
"For someone who claims to be so relaxed here," said Johnny, "you are ridiculously tense."
"I guess I am getting nervous," said Evan, then sighed as Johnny found and rubbed on a knot below his shoulders.
"Nerves are good," said Johnny, "at least in moderation. Nerves mean you think you can win this thing, right?"
"Oh, I definitely think I can win it. I'm just trying to forget that for the moment, you know? Owwwwww...ooh..." Evan relaxed as Johnny defeated a particularly hard muscle near his hips. "Careful..." he warned.
"Always," said Johnny. His fingers moved near Evan's ass; he'd be doing his legs, too in a minute. Evan entertained a tiny fantasy of his fingers moving further down, touching...which Evan absolutely could not let him do between the short and long program. He didn't do it, anyway. Instead he moved his hands to Evan's other side and began carefully working on the muscles there. It felt good; some part of Evan would even think it was better than sex.
"With those bandages on your foot," Johnny commented, "I hope you're not going to try that quad."
"No," said Evan, "though don't tell anyone about the foot; I kind of want to keep that under wraps until after the competition."
"Is it really that bad?"
"I'm dealing with it," he said gruffly. Johnny made a skeptical noise, but dropped the subject.
As he moved down to Evan's legs, he commented on their size. "I've never really looked at them like this, you know. They always seem longer than I think they are."
"Hey, it's established fact I'm tall, right?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to irritate you. It's just...interesting, doing this."
"I hope you don't mind." Johnny had seemed like he really didn't, but Evan still had trouble believing that.
"I can't say this was my first choice of how to spend Worlds, Evan, but I really am good with it. It's better than sitting around and moping at home."
"Well, you shouldn't be doing that," said Evan. "You've still got the team event, I've no doubt."
"I'm not going."
Evan laughed. "Oh, they'll ask you. I'm, like, dead certain of that. Especially with Jeremy having problems."
"They asked me. When I got here. Informally, of course. I said no."
"What?" Evan pulled himself out from Johnny's hands and turned around to stare at him. "Why?" It made no sense. It worked perfectly with Johnny's schedule, it was low pressure, it would get him a lot of money which Evan was under the impression he needed, and if he'd been preparing for Worlds surely he was ready.
"I'm just..." Johnny shook his head, his shoulders sagged, and though he'd been stubbornly cheerful the entire time he'd been here, Evan could see a clear crack in his armor here. "I'm not up to facing it. Getting sent there would remind me how I failed to come here; I know plenty of people here will go there, but I really can't look at it any other way. I'd probably skate awfully and lose whatever dignity I've preserved from this season." His eyes looked too bright.
"Don't cry, Johnny, please don't," said Evan softly, and impulsively placed an arm on Johnny's shoulders. His other hand brushed his chest, and he felt Johnny take a couple of breaths.
Then Johnny pulled away, saying, "Thanks; I'm all right. Lie back down so I can finish."
Evan obeyed, and Johnny set upon his legs in earnest, carefully avoiding touching the injured foot too much, then going back up, all the way to Evan's shoulders, which he ground his thumbs into one last time. Evan let himself melt under Johnny's hands, feeling languid, mildly aroused, and generally contented and peaceful.
"Evan," Johnny's voice was lower, serious. "When you skate tonight, I won't be there."
"I understand."
"But I want you to win. I mean, I seriously want you to win."
"Believe me, it's what I'll be trying to do."
"Don't sound doubtful like that," said Johnny very close to Evan's ear; the bed shifted as he sat down by Evan's head.
"Any more advice?"
He meant it only half-seriously, but he realized a moment later that Johnny would respond in earnest.
"Well," he said, "if you're not going for the quad, then make it a moment. You've always been good, of course, at throwing everything you've got into a program, but I don't think you've ever really enjoyed it. It seems to me your mind's always been racing, yelling 'Do, do, do, win, win, win!'"
"Right," said Evan, but it didn't sound as dismissive as he tried to make it sound, and Johnny no doubt could tell that.
"You know what I really want to hear tonight, because even if I'm not there, I'll definitely know what's going on. I want to hear that when you finished your skate, you grinned and pumped the air. I want you to have a night and a skate you'll bask in forever, even if you don't win. I want you to be so happy, you don't care where you finish, because that's the best feeling in the world. Well, you don't care much."
Anyone else and Evan would ask what they were trying to do making such a speech to him. But Johnny probably just meant it. "Thanks," he said.
Leaning down, Johnny pressed his hands against Evan's cheeks and kissed him. "Good luck," he whispered. Then he stood up and walked out of the hotel room. Evan doubted he would see him again here in LA, but that was okay.
***
Stephane had gone to collect Johnny from Mulholland Drive after the men's competition. He'd found him sitting, staring at the sky, looking less happy or sad than just peaceful.
"So..." Stephane had started.
Johnny had nodded. "It happened."
They hadn't talked about it after that. They'd gone back to the hotel and made love, and while Stephane would be lying if he said the amount of thought Johnny had clearly given Evan hadn't made him jealous, after a night of having Johnny in his arms begging to have Stephane inside him, whispering Stephane's name and looking into his eyes as Stephane pounded him, moaning and sighing with every touch, giving Stephane his biggest smile when they were done and pulling him down for endless kisses, he was feeling much better about that.
That wasn't even counting the repeat performance in the morning, at the end of which Stephane collapsed on top of Johnny, barely able to exert the strength to move and let Johnny get out from under him, and then seriously considered not moving ever again. This whole trip to LA had been a lot more tiring than he thought it would be.
Unlike Johnny, who didn't seem tired at all. "You know what the strangest thing is?" he asked. Stephane made a noncomittal noise. "I never before realized just how many people are at Worlds. Even if they're not competing, they somehow end up there anyway. I talked with Mirai about it; it's her first Worlds, you know." Stephane tried to remember who Mirai was; he was sure he should, but he was way too tired. He thought Johnny might have mentioned her before. "I don't remember being overwhelmed, the way she's been, in Dortmond, though. Moscow, on the other hand...maybe it depends on how the big the city is. Did you think there were a lot of people at your first Worlds?" Stephane made a second noncommittal noise. "You're not really paying attention to me, are you?" A third.
"But you know what really amazes me?" he continued. A fourth noise. "Will you stop that? No, what really amazes me is that I'm so wanted here. Even though I didn't qualify, even though my season stunk." Stephane opened his mouth to say his season hadn't stunk, but Johnny was going on. "I mean, I've always known people have liked me, but this is something else."
"Kind of wish I could stay longer," said Johnny. "See the ladies finish up, see Yu-Na win-hopefully," he hastily adds, not wanting to tempt fate. "Spend more time with you."
"It won't be long until we're together again," said Stephane, finally finding the energy to talk again, if only in French.
"Ah," Johnny responded in kind, "but too long still." He glanced at the clock, "God," he muttered in English, "do I have to get up already?"
"Duty calls," replied Stephane. "Did you know, I think you said Yu-Na wanted to talk with you at least a little this morning?"
"Ah yes, again," sighed Johnny, but he didn't sound upset. "You know she'll want you to fulfill my duties after I leave. All of them."
That little piece of news was enough to get Stephane to start violently. "You mean she expects me to..." He made a vaguely obscene gesture.
"Hey, I warned her what you're like," grinned Johnny, "but she said she thinks after these past few months, she can handle anything. You will have people being very confused if you turn her down, you know. I don't think I need to tell you there are guys who would kill to be in your shoes. Some of them are even here."
"Then why can't she sleep with them?!"
"Because she wants you." Johnny was very amused by all this. "She's intrigued by you-largely because you're my boyfriend, no doubt, but I don't think that's all there is to it; I think she wants you for you, too, so you don't have to reject her on those grounds. At least consider it. She's...good. Very passionate." Unwilling to say anything cruder, he left it at that.
Stephane had not yet tired of hearing Johnny call him his "boyfriend." It was another reason for him to kiss him, even as Johnny pulled away, looking again at the clock. "I promise nothing," he said to Johnny.
***
Yu-Na collapsed back onto the mattress panting heavily, completely boneless and a little wrecked up. Johnny hadn't been kidding when he'd described Stephane as "a real hurricane in bed." She suspected he'd held back slightly with her, that he really unleashed with Johnny, but she was more than contented with what she'd gotten.
Next to her, strangely enough, Stephane seemed to be blushing a little. "You like?" he asked.
"Think so," she gasped. "But tonight, I like everything."
"Ah," he said knowingly. "Where is your medal?"
It had to be somewhere on the floor, which of course wouldn't do, and Yu-Na forced herself up long enough to spot the ribbon and scoop it up. She fell back down with the gold settling between her breasts. Stephane picked up the ribbon and pulled it behind her head so she technically had it around her neck. "Will you sleep like that?" he asked. "I remember when I win my first, I sleep all night holding it in my hand."
"Maybe," said Yu-Na. It still looked unreal, glimmering there on her sweat-covered skin. Here, she thought, was an advantage of being with Stephane instead of Johnny, in the kind of conversation she could have with him. "When you won in Moscow," she asked him, "did you have a moment during the program?"
"During the program?" he looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Like during my spiral sequence," she said. "I had done the second lutz, and the audience was so, so alive, and for a moment all I could think was, 'Is this really happening? Am I really doing this?' And then I miss the salchow, and I concentrate again. And with you, Johnny said to me once, after your second quad, everyone knew you had won."
"Ah, but you can afford to miss the salchow," he said, shaking his head. "I had missed the axel at the beginning of my program, and I was not so great as you. I could not stop to think until I was done skating, and I could not believe it until I had my score."
Not so great as you. The words echoed in Yu-Na's head, the still incomprehensible probability of how many fellow world champions, even, would say that to her. "It was not even just the gold," she whispered. "When I was a little girl, and I dreamed, it was a big dream for me to make the top ten. Sometimes when I was more excited I would dream of a medal, at Olympics usually, or at Worlds."
"You never dreamed of gold?" he asked.
"No, it is not that. I did not dream of it usually, no, but sometimes, when I would watch videos of Michelle Kwan, or Midori Ito, or I would otherwise have a bigger dream than usual, yes, I would dream of this. But even then, and even these past few years, when I start to think maybe I can win...in my wildest dreams, I never thought it would be like this." She shivered remembering it, the audience on its feet, the world records, but most of all, the whispers around her, and more than whispers, calling her a legend; the air itself seeming to echo it. It still seemed a little ridiculous that this should happen to her, that she should be this kind of winner beyond winners.
"Ma modeste cherie," said Stephane, and kissed her as she shivered again. "This is a wonderful feeling, is it not?"
"I have never felt anything better. I wish everyone could know what this is like. I wish..." For the first time that night a trace of sadness crept into her heart, her one regret of this World Championships. "I wish Johnny could know."
Stephane nodded heavily. "I wish that too," he whispered, and she could hear the deep love this man bore for him. It was enough to make her love him as she loved Johnny, and hope for the two of them to be the happiest men on Earth together.
"Do you think he will go to Torino next year?" she asked. "He said earlier he did not think he would go, but, maybe to make up for not coming here?"
"I think it will depend on how he does in Vancouver. If he wins the gold, he will not need anything else. Maybe he will even be happy with a medal now. Maybe, perhaps, after Vancouver, he will give up. He is very tired, you know."
"I know," said Yu-Na. He'd showed signs of it, in retrospect, even at the Grand Prix Finale, and when he visited her in Toronto, and here.
"And you?" he asked. "Will you go to Torino?"
Yu-Na shook her head. "If I had not won here, maybe. But now, I can not. To try to do this again would be too much." It would take all she had, she knew, to perform again under the pressure of Vancouver.
"That is probably true," Stephane agreed, moving in for another kiss. She met him halfway, threading her fingers through his beautiful hair, and submerged herself into the night's overwhelming happiness once again.