Hot Snow
Title: Hot Snow
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Johnny Weir
Rating: R
Content: Language, sex
Summary: Hiding out in "Mother Russia" instead of going to Worlds, Johnny stumbles across the singer, also taking a small vacation.
Disclaimer: I do not own these people, nor did these events ever actually happen. If you found your way to this story by way of searching for yourself or people you know personally, please do not read this.
Author's Note: My friend wanted a Johnny Weir and Adam Lambert in a hot tub, and him ditching Worlds was fresh in my mind. Then I got a prompt from rustandfinedust for holiday_on_ice and fleshed this out fully. I'm so sorry this is about a week late, though! Forgive me? Oh, and con-crit is always loved. Please enjoy!
"Pomegranate juice? Now?" Johnny asked incredulously. "Galina, I'm on vacation right now, and I don't have any major competitions coming up!"
"It's still in training season, so I'm still your coach. Now drink," she commanded, pushing the glass into his hand. "Then, you go skate. This hotel has a small rink. Practice jumps."
Johnny sighed. "Fine, Galina." Closing his door behind him, he took the glass into the kitchen, spiking it with a bit of his vodka. "One vodka-pom shot, courtesy of Galina," he said, smirking to himself. Yeah, he should probably listen to her, but he was going to have some fun while he could.
Downing his drink, he glanced over at the clock. 11 am. Wow, she'd let him sleep in fairly late. He figured he'd probably head on down, work on Bad Romance for a bit.
Slipping on his "Platinum Medal Winner" sweatshirt that Tara hated so much, and grabbing his iPod, he ran out the door.
***
"Rah, rah, ah-ah-ah, roma-roma-ma, ga-ga-ooh-la-la, wnt your bad romance," he hummed to himself, tracing backwards over the ice. As he jumped into his double toe, his blade caught, throwing him onto the ice as he landed and slamming him onto his side. Hard.
"Shit!" he hissed, holding his side as he gingerly walked off the ice. Crap. Maybe vodka, ice, and no practice suit wasn't such a great combination. He decided to take a quick break and go ice it down before it turned an ugly purple.
He made his way to the resort lounge, grabbing a cold water bottle in lieu of an ice pack. Slipping off his sweatshirt, he shivered as the cold air hit his bare skin, pressing the bottle against the red patch just above his hip.
He sat there for a few minutes, holding the bottle over the bruise, before he started to hear music, soft but with an audibly punchy beat.
"Give you my f-f-fever, my f-fever?" he muttered to himself, trying to make out the words. "Hmm, sounds kinda like GaGa."
He looked around for the source of the sound, his gaze falling on a guy in the corner. His blue-black hair obscured his face, and he had a pair of mirrored headphones perched around his neck.
Johnny listened as the song came to a close, then got up to ask him about it.
"Hey."
The guy looked up, revealing blue eyes heavily rimmed with black eyeliner.
"Hmm?"
"Oh, I was just wondering," Johnny said, trying to sound casual, "what song you were just listening to? It sounded a bit like GaGa." Damn, this guy was hot! Suddenly, Johnny wished that he'd bothered to clean up this morning; he was sure he looked like a hot mess.
"Fever? Oh, no, it's not GaGa. I mean, she wrote it, but it's not hers." He smiled, looking over Johnny's bare, flushed chest. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Huh?" Oh, yeah, that. "I fell. I was practicing. Ice skating. I skate." Should he tell him? It was usually better to just come out with it. "Actually, you might have heard of me. I'm Johnny Weir?"
He grinned. "Johnny Weir, huh? Well, you’ve probably heard of me too. I'm Adam."
Johnny eyes widened with recognition. "Holy shit, Adam Lambert?"
"Guess you have," he said, laughing. "Anyways, what brings you here?"
"Taking a break, skipping Worlds, hanging out in Mother Russia... Usual shit. Why are you here?" He sat down next to Adam before realizing something. "Wait, were you just listening to your own song?"
Adam started laughing. "Yeah, I do that sometimes. Wanna listen?" He twisted the earpieces of the headphones, handing one to Johnny.
"Sure." Just then, he looked up and saw Galina standing in the doorway, arms folded and eyes stony. "Shit. Look, I gotta, go. My evil Ukranian coach is here."
"Okay," Adam said. "Wait. Meet me here. At seven. I'll be singing."
"Singing? I'll be there." He'd have to find some way to make it out of his room without being chaperoned, but he'd be there.
Johnny got up and walked over to the glaring Galina, grabbing his sweatshirt on his way out.
"I tell you to practice, not to - to flirt with some guy!" she said sharply. "It is training season now. You are not to get involved, you know that!"
"I'm not getting involved, I'm having a friendly conversation!"
"Without a shirt," she observed.
"I was icing my ribs!" he protested. Yes, he was interested in Adam, but that didn’t mean he was going to sleep with him! Unless...
"Fine, Galina. I'll practice. After dinner. I'll head on down." He had to make sure she believed him. She started back, glaring. "I swear on GaGa I'll go." The lady would understand him if he broke this just once, right?
***
Johnny twirled in front of his mirror, checking out his ass in his new gray jeans. They helped dress down his sparkly black top, right? He quickly added a bit of makeup - concealer and eyeliner - before walking out the door, making sure to hang his skates and warm-up jacket over his shoulder for Galina.
"I'm heading out now!" he called, praying she'd believe him. She leaned her head out, briefly checking over him, before nodding, closing her door. Pleased, Johnny skipped over to the elevator, making his way down to the lounge.
Once he got out, he stashed his skates in a nearby flowerpot before walking into the room. On a makeshift stage, Adam was strutting around, singing wildly.
"But if I had you, life would be a party - it'd be ecstasy!" he sang, flicking his hair spectacularly. "If I had you..." he trailed off, dropping his gaze, "if I had you..."
Johnny made his way to the front of the stage area, dancing along with all of the teen girls. Adam spotted him and twirled around, looking over seductively.
"If I had you, you, you..." he continued, building towards a crescendo, "if I had you!"
The crowd cheered, Johnny included, as he laughed giddily. He couldn’t help the attraction to this guy, and his gorgeously charming personality. How could he?
Adam jumped down from the stage. "Hey, you came!"
"Of course I did! That was really hot!"
"But your coach, she didn't look like she was gonna let you get out. At all."
"I snuck out," he said, shrugging.
"Really? Sexy. Wanna go grab a drink somewhere?"
***
Johnny laughed, leaning onto Adam's shoulder. After a few drinks, they'd found themselves sitting out on the heated porch on some poolside chairs, looking at the sky through the glass.
"Look, there's Orion!" he said, pointing, as Adam's gaze followed his finger.
"Where?"
"There!"
"Oh, I see it - that row over there?" he asked. Johnny nodded. They sat in silence, staring at the stars, before Adam spoke again. "Hey, just wondering... Are you gay?"
Johnny started, though at the question or the bluntness, he wasn't sure. No one had ever come straight out and asked him like that - well, besides Galina. They'd just danced around it, throwing words like "flamboyant" and "diva" around as if they were the new Frisbees on the block.
Adam turned to look at him. "Well, are you?"
He paused, trying to articulate his opinions on the issue. "Well, I like guys, so I guess you'd say that I'm gay. But I don't really think it's as clear-cut as that. I mean, I could meet a girl in five or ten years and fall in love with her, if she was amazing enough, 'cause it's the person that matters." He leaned back, exhaling loudly. "But, to be honest, I really do love cock. I mean, I'm a competitive men's figure skater, and we can't all be little straight orange robot mongeese, right?"
"You mean besides the pink tassel, right?" Adam added, laughing. "You definitely rocked that."
"Thanks for noticing. You were pretty damn sexy when you sang as well."
Adam leaned over, stage-whispering against Johnny's neck. "You wanna see just how sexy I can get?" he asked, his voice low and breathy. He snuck his hand around Johnny's waist, tilting his face up towards his own.
"'Cause I can show you, if you want."
Johnny shivered at the light breath, gasping as Adam's finger's found their way under his shirt. "I-I want you to," he breathed out.
Adam responded by kissing him, his lips warm and soft against Johnny's. He stood up, pulling him with him as he went.
"C'mon, let's get going then," he said, tugging Johnny back towards the resort. He followed, slightly breathless at the loss of contact.
"Adam, god, kiss me again," he breathed out, wrapping his arms around Adam's larger frame. He turned around to do so, walking backwards.
"Happy?" he asked, pulling away for a quick breath. Johnny smirked and leaned forward, swirling his tongue around Adam's mouth. His lips tasted like Chapstick - cherry Chapstick. He giggled, thinking of the Katy Perry song.
"What's funny?" Adam asked, looking a bit confused. "Or do I just suck that much?"
Johnny smiled. "I kissed a boy, and I liked it!" he sang, laughing giddily.
Adam did too, pulling him into another kiss. "I should hope so!" he replied. As Johnny leaned into him, he put a foot back to steady himself.
His foot hit a slick patch, and he tripped backwards, landing with a splash. As he wiped water out of his eyes, he saw Adam in front of him, bent double with laughter.
"You just fell into the hot tub!" he gasped out. "God, I thought you'd be better coordinated than that!"
Johnny glared angrily; well, as best he could with water streaming down his face. Then it hit him. Water. In these clothes. He immediately scrambled to strip, tossing his shirt and pants off to the side.
Adam stared. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I can't leave them to get wet in here. Those are designer!"
A smile crept over his face, and then suddenly Adam was topless and in the water with him. "Well then, we'll just have to compromise."
Then he was on top of him, and Johnny was moaning as he kissed his neck. He really needed to get laid, and Adam Lambert was just amazing.
"Fuck yes!" he yelled breathily as their hips touched, the wet fabric sticking quite clearly to Adam's hard cock. Adam grinned, almost cat-like, and ground even harder into him.
"You want this? Now?" he asked, murmuring into Johnny's ear.
"Y-Yes," he stammered out, stuttering with each movement of his hips. "Please."
Adam's hand slipped inside his underwear and around his cock, running lightly up and down its length. Johnny gasped, bucking his hips forward at the sensation he'd been craving for so long, at the feel of Adam's fingers around him, slick with water as they slid up and down.
"God, you're so hot, so fucking hot, Johnny Weir, fucking swan-boy, fucking hell!" Adam said, the words coming out in a slurred rush as Johnny reached forward, palming him through his jeans. "Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck Johnny, fuck!"
Johnny moaned as Adam tightened his grip, hand moving even faster. All too soon, he was over the edge, spilling milky white into the water as he gasped out, breath thick and heavy. He slumped backwards, his hair falling into the cloudy water between them.
"Fuck, Adam, that was... Oh, God." That had been so needed, and so craved. He looked down. "Just let me," he added, finishing his sentence with a grab at Adam's crotch. He fumbled with both hands, trying to undo the zipper underwater. Stupid leather pants!
Adam reached down and undid it himself, his black nails shimmering underwater. "Here, let me."
Then he was pulling Johnny's hand inside his pants, and holy shit he was huge! Johnny grasped him and started jerking him off, the water slowing his movements. It rippled and swirled around them, the now-milky water buoyed by the jets of the hot tub. Adam started moaning, deep, longing moans. They made Johnny want to just let Adam fuck him already, but that would only add to the Galina problem, if he couldn't skate the next day. He'd have to settle for some amazing handjobs.
"Fuck, Johnny, jeez," he said sharply, thrusting into his hand. Johnny tightened his grip slightly, moving faster. Soon, Adam gasped, sharply, as he came, spilling even further into the water. They lay there for a minute, panting, before speaking.
"So, I guess we should get out before someone catches us?" Johnny asked, eyeing the porch for potential security cameras.
Adam nodded before climbing out, grabbing his clothes and toweling off his hair before stepping back into the resort.
"See you later?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Sure," Johnny replied. Like he would pass up a chance to see him again!
Johnny waited for a bit more, letting the water soothe his now-stinging chest, before getting out of the water. With a fair amount of difficulty, he pulled on his still-damp jeans and shirt, the water sticking to him all over. Wringing out his hair, he stumbled back into the resort, making his way back to the elevator.
He opened the door to his room and stumbled in, dropping onto the bed.
"Ow!" he yelled. What the hell was he sitting on? He got up carefully and looked at the bag he'd inadvertently sat on. Inside was his ice skates and a note.
It read:
Johnny, I'm sure that you had every right to have sex with Adam Lambert. Your coach would see otherwise. As will I, if you were stupid enough to leave evidence - this time - for the world to find.
xoxo,
~Tara
Pairing: Adam Lambert/Johnny Weir
Rating: R
Content: Language, sex
Summary: Hiding out in "Mother Russia" instead of going to Worlds, Johnny stumbles across the singer, also taking a small vacation.
Disclaimer: I do not own these people, nor did these events ever actually happen. If you found your way to this story by way of searching for yourself or people you know personally, please do not read this.
Author's Note: My friend wanted a Johnny Weir and Adam Lambert in a hot tub, and him ditching Worlds was fresh in my mind. Then I got a prompt from rustandfinedust for holiday_on_ice and fleshed this out fully. I'm so sorry this is about a week late, though! Forgive me? Oh, and con-crit is always loved. Please enjoy!
"Pomegranate juice? Now?" Johnny asked incredulously. "Galina, I'm on vacation right now, and I don't have any major competitions coming up!"
"It's still in training season, so I'm still your coach. Now drink," she commanded, pushing the glass into his hand. "Then, you go skate. This hotel has a small rink. Practice jumps."
Johnny sighed. "Fine, Galina." Closing his door behind him, he took the glass into the kitchen, spiking it with a bit of his vodka. "One vodka-pom shot, courtesy of Galina," he said, smirking to himself. Yeah, he should probably listen to her, but he was going to have some fun while he could.
Downing his drink, he glanced over at the clock. 11 am. Wow, she'd let him sleep in fairly late. He figured he'd probably head on down, work on Bad Romance for a bit.
Slipping on his "Platinum Medal Winner" sweatshirt that Tara hated so much, and grabbing his iPod, he ran out the door.
***
"Rah, rah, ah-ah-ah, roma-roma-ma, ga-ga-ooh-la-la, wnt your bad romance," he hummed to himself, tracing backwards over the ice. As he jumped into his double toe, his blade caught, throwing him onto the ice as he landed and slamming him onto his side. Hard.
"Shit!" he hissed, holding his side as he gingerly walked off the ice. Crap. Maybe vodka, ice, and no practice suit wasn't such a great combination. He decided to take a quick break and go ice it down before it turned an ugly purple.
He made his way to the resort lounge, grabbing a cold water bottle in lieu of an ice pack. Slipping off his sweatshirt, he shivered as the cold air hit his bare skin, pressing the bottle against the red patch just above his hip.
He sat there for a few minutes, holding the bottle over the bruise, before he started to hear music, soft but with an audibly punchy beat.
"Give you my f-f-fever, my f-fever?" he muttered to himself, trying to make out the words. "Hmm, sounds kinda like GaGa."
He looked around for the source of the sound, his gaze falling on a guy in the corner. His blue-black hair obscured his face, and he had a pair of mirrored headphones perched around his neck.
Johnny listened as the song came to a close, then got up to ask him about it.
"Hey."
The guy looked up, revealing blue eyes heavily rimmed with black eyeliner.
"Hmm?"
"Oh, I was just wondering," Johnny said, trying to sound casual, "what song you were just listening to? It sounded a bit like GaGa." Damn, this guy was hot! Suddenly, Johnny wished that he'd bothered to clean up this morning; he was sure he looked like a hot mess.
"Fever? Oh, no, it's not GaGa. I mean, she wrote it, but it's not hers." He smiled, looking over Johnny's bare, flushed chest. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Huh?" Oh, yeah, that. "I fell. I was practicing. Ice skating. I skate." Should he tell him? It was usually better to just come out with it. "Actually, you might have heard of me. I'm Johnny Weir?"
He grinned. "Johnny Weir, huh? Well, you’ve probably heard of me too. I'm Adam."
Johnny eyes widened with recognition. "Holy shit, Adam Lambert?"
"Guess you have," he said, laughing. "Anyways, what brings you here?"
"Taking a break, skipping Worlds, hanging out in Mother Russia... Usual shit. Why are you here?" He sat down next to Adam before realizing something. "Wait, were you just listening to your own song?"
Adam started laughing. "Yeah, I do that sometimes. Wanna listen?" He twisted the earpieces of the headphones, handing one to Johnny.
"Sure." Just then, he looked up and saw Galina standing in the doorway, arms folded and eyes stony. "Shit. Look, I gotta, go. My evil Ukranian coach is here."
"Okay," Adam said. "Wait. Meet me here. At seven. I'll be singing."
"Singing? I'll be there." He'd have to find some way to make it out of his room without being chaperoned, but he'd be there.
Johnny got up and walked over to the glaring Galina, grabbing his sweatshirt on his way out.
"I tell you to practice, not to - to flirt with some guy!" she said sharply. "It is training season now. You are not to get involved, you know that!"
"I'm not getting involved, I'm having a friendly conversation!"
"Without a shirt," she observed.
"I was icing my ribs!" he protested. Yes, he was interested in Adam, but that didn’t mean he was going to sleep with him! Unless...
"Fine, Galina. I'll practice. After dinner. I'll head on down." He had to make sure she believed him. She started back, glaring. "I swear on GaGa I'll go." The lady would understand him if he broke this just once, right?
***
Johnny twirled in front of his mirror, checking out his ass in his new gray jeans. They helped dress down his sparkly black top, right? He quickly added a bit of makeup - concealer and eyeliner - before walking out the door, making sure to hang his skates and warm-up jacket over his shoulder for Galina.
"I'm heading out now!" he called, praying she'd believe him. She leaned her head out, briefly checking over him, before nodding, closing her door. Pleased, Johnny skipped over to the elevator, making his way down to the lounge.
Once he got out, he stashed his skates in a nearby flowerpot before walking into the room. On a makeshift stage, Adam was strutting around, singing wildly.
"But if I had you, life would be a party - it'd be ecstasy!" he sang, flicking his hair spectacularly. "If I had you..." he trailed off, dropping his gaze, "if I had you..."
Johnny made his way to the front of the stage area, dancing along with all of the teen girls. Adam spotted him and twirled around, looking over seductively.
"If I had you, you, you..." he continued, building towards a crescendo, "if I had you!"
The crowd cheered, Johnny included, as he laughed giddily. He couldn’t help the attraction to this guy, and his gorgeously charming personality. How could he?
Adam jumped down from the stage. "Hey, you came!"
"Of course I did! That was really hot!"
"But your coach, she didn't look like she was gonna let you get out. At all."
"I snuck out," he said, shrugging.
"Really? Sexy. Wanna go grab a drink somewhere?"
***
Johnny laughed, leaning onto Adam's shoulder. After a few drinks, they'd found themselves sitting out on the heated porch on some poolside chairs, looking at the sky through the glass.
"Look, there's Orion!" he said, pointing, as Adam's gaze followed his finger.
"Where?"
"There!"
"Oh, I see it - that row over there?" he asked. Johnny nodded. They sat in silence, staring at the stars, before Adam spoke again. "Hey, just wondering... Are you gay?"
Johnny started, though at the question or the bluntness, he wasn't sure. No one had ever come straight out and asked him like that - well, besides Galina. They'd just danced around it, throwing words like "flamboyant" and "diva" around as if they were the new Frisbees on the block.
Adam turned to look at him. "Well, are you?"
He paused, trying to articulate his opinions on the issue. "Well, I like guys, so I guess you'd say that I'm gay. But I don't really think it's as clear-cut as that. I mean, I could meet a girl in five or ten years and fall in love with her, if she was amazing enough, 'cause it's the person that matters." He leaned back, exhaling loudly. "But, to be honest, I really do love cock. I mean, I'm a competitive men's figure skater, and we can't all be little straight orange robot mongeese, right?"
"You mean besides the pink tassel, right?" Adam added, laughing. "You definitely rocked that."
"Thanks for noticing. You were pretty damn sexy when you sang as well."
Adam leaned over, stage-whispering against Johnny's neck. "You wanna see just how sexy I can get?" he asked, his voice low and breathy. He snuck his hand around Johnny's waist, tilting his face up towards his own.
"'Cause I can show you, if you want."
Johnny shivered at the light breath, gasping as Adam's finger's found their way under his shirt. "I-I want you to," he breathed out.
Adam responded by kissing him, his lips warm and soft against Johnny's. He stood up, pulling him with him as he went.
"C'mon, let's get going then," he said, tugging Johnny back towards the resort. He followed, slightly breathless at the loss of contact.
"Adam, god, kiss me again," he breathed out, wrapping his arms around Adam's larger frame. He turned around to do so, walking backwards.
"Happy?" he asked, pulling away for a quick breath. Johnny smirked and leaned forward, swirling his tongue around Adam's mouth. His lips tasted like Chapstick - cherry Chapstick. He giggled, thinking of the Katy Perry song.
"What's funny?" Adam asked, looking a bit confused. "Or do I just suck that much?"
Johnny smiled. "I kissed a boy, and I liked it!" he sang, laughing giddily.
Adam did too, pulling him into another kiss. "I should hope so!" he replied. As Johnny leaned into him, he put a foot back to steady himself.
His foot hit a slick patch, and he tripped backwards, landing with a splash. As he wiped water out of his eyes, he saw Adam in front of him, bent double with laughter.
"You just fell into the hot tub!" he gasped out. "God, I thought you'd be better coordinated than that!"
Johnny glared angrily; well, as best he could with water streaming down his face. Then it hit him. Water. In these clothes. He immediately scrambled to strip, tossing his shirt and pants off to the side.
Adam stared. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I can't leave them to get wet in here. Those are designer!"
A smile crept over his face, and then suddenly Adam was topless and in the water with him. "Well then, we'll just have to compromise."
Then he was on top of him, and Johnny was moaning as he kissed his neck. He really needed to get laid, and Adam Lambert was just amazing.
"Fuck yes!" he yelled breathily as their hips touched, the wet fabric sticking quite clearly to Adam's hard cock. Adam grinned, almost cat-like, and ground even harder into him.
"You want this? Now?" he asked, murmuring into Johnny's ear.
"Y-Yes," he stammered out, stuttering with each movement of his hips. "Please."
Adam's hand slipped inside his underwear and around his cock, running lightly up and down its length. Johnny gasped, bucking his hips forward at the sensation he'd been craving for so long, at the feel of Adam's fingers around him, slick with water as they slid up and down.
"God, you're so hot, so fucking hot, Johnny Weir, fucking swan-boy, fucking hell!" Adam said, the words coming out in a slurred rush as Johnny reached forward, palming him through his jeans. "Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck Johnny, fuck!"
Johnny moaned as Adam tightened his grip, hand moving even faster. All too soon, he was over the edge, spilling milky white into the water as he gasped out, breath thick and heavy. He slumped backwards, his hair falling into the cloudy water between them.
"Fuck, Adam, that was... Oh, God." That had been so needed, and so craved. He looked down. "Just let me," he added, finishing his sentence with a grab at Adam's crotch. He fumbled with both hands, trying to undo the zipper underwater. Stupid leather pants!
Adam reached down and undid it himself, his black nails shimmering underwater. "Here, let me."
Then he was pulling Johnny's hand inside his pants, and holy shit he was huge! Johnny grasped him and started jerking him off, the water slowing his movements. It rippled and swirled around them, the now-milky water buoyed by the jets of the hot tub. Adam started moaning, deep, longing moans. They made Johnny want to just let Adam fuck him already, but that would only add to the Galina problem, if he couldn't skate the next day. He'd have to settle for some amazing handjobs.
"Fuck, Johnny, jeez," he said sharply, thrusting into his hand. Johnny tightened his grip slightly, moving faster. Soon, Adam gasped, sharply, as he came, spilling even further into the water. They lay there for a minute, panting, before speaking.
"So, I guess we should get out before someone catches us?" Johnny asked, eyeing the porch for potential security cameras.
Adam nodded before climbing out, grabbing his clothes and toweling off his hair before stepping back into the resort.
"See you later?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Sure," Johnny replied. Like he would pass up a chance to see him again!
Johnny waited for a bit more, letting the water soothe his now-stinging chest, before getting out of the water. With a fair amount of difficulty, he pulled on his still-damp jeans and shirt, the water sticking to him all over. Wringing out his hair, he stumbled back into the resort, making his way back to the elevator.
He opened the door to his room and stumbled in, dropping onto the bed.
"Ow!" he yelled. What the hell was he sitting on? He got up carefully and looked at the bag he'd inadvertently sat on. Inside was his ice skates and a note.
It read:
Johnny, I'm sure that you had every right to have sex with Adam Lambert. Your coach would see otherwise. As will I, if you were stupid enough to leave evidence - this time - for the world to find.
xoxo,
~Tara