[RPS] "Truth and Lies"
Title: Truth and Lies
Pairing: Evgeni Plushenko x Johnny Weir
Rating: R (RPS)
Disclaimer: To my knowledge, this has never happened.
Archived @ Master List
Summary: For keajoaq. "Johnny Weir tries very hard to be an honest person. That is something you have to respect, even if the words that fall out of his mouth turn out to be more unintentional half-lies than whole truths."
Truth and Lies
Johnny Weir tries very hard to be an honest person. That is something you have to respect, even if the words that fall out of his mouth turn out to be more unintentional half-lies than whole truths.
When he tells the world from Turin that he did not follow the training regime of a good, obedient figure skater, he forgets to mention that, while he did not wake up early or stick to a strict diet, he did push himself very hard and train a lot, often excessively, to be able to reach his level of skating. The American public is unaware and they believe in the image of this rebel he has carved himself out to be. Johnny Weir is a very honest person and yet also a very excellent liar-- he has started to believe in the image as well.
Johnny does not notice, or perhaps he does not want to notice, that his injuries always flare up at the end of a season due to the training he puts himself through, and that they have cost him three chances to medal at the World Championships. The American public refers to this as 'inconsistentcy' and they conveniently forget that he has been their National champion for three straight years. You want to laugh at their ignorance, but you can't because then, you would be laughing at Johnny.
You have told him before, that his work schedule was too hard and that it was taking its toll on his body; he did not listen to you. You were Evgeni Plushenko, the idol beyond his reach, and he was Johnny Weir and, as his Sinatra exhibition told the world, he did things 'My Way'.
---
You are married. You have a wife and you are expecting a child. Maria captured your heart from the moment she drove by in her convertible and you love her dearly, but she will not join you in America and you will not yet willingly remain in Russia. So you settle for this instead, your naked body covering and grinding into his. With another woman, it would be an affair. With another man, it would be a sin. With Johnny, it was something magical.
This is not adultery, you tell him sharply after the first time. His Russian is flawed, but he understands your tone and leaves in silence, limping painfully back to his room. He does not speak to you for two days and you pay no heed to the yearning in your loins. Johnny Weir would break first because he was an honest person and you know you had made him feel that night. Sure enough, at the end of the second day, he calls your phone from the other end of the tour bus and everything returns to normal.
The second time, you know you're asking him to go against everything he believes in, everything he was taught, everything his heart stood against. You no longer care. You want. He gives. You take. He gives more. The cycle continues.
---
You return to your wife for the Russian Nationals and, immediately, you know something is wrong. You do not realize what it is until that night, in the moment of ecstacy, when all you can see is Johnny's face. The horror of your realization strikes you like a blow to the face. Something had changed in the off-season and your guilt torments you mercilessly as Maria sleeps peacefully beside you, blissfully unaware.
He comes to St. Petersburg for the Grand Prix Final and claims the silver beside your gold. After the event, you corner him in his hotel room and push him against the wall, all the while reminding yourself that this was Johnny, and you loved Maria. But when he lets out a gasp and arches, you lose control completely and press in deep, driving into him for all he was worth.
How unfortunate it was, that your body was more truthful than your heart.
---
You fall. Twice. You, who has breezed through every short program flawlessly, fall twice in Tosca. You were thinking of him last night. Nothing has caused you to lose concentration since your groin injury and you are furious with yourself.
He stumbles in the locker room, flushed and breathless with his own success-- he captured first after the short program. Your first.
Zhenya, he says in surprise, as if noticing you for the first time. Then came a tentative: How are you doing?
What have you done to me, you ask quietly.
The blood drains from his face. What have I done to you, he repeats incredulously, what have I done to you?!
Yes! What have you done to me?
Words pour from your mouth, words meant to hurt. Your frustrations, your hurt pride, everything comes out at once in a flurry.
You do not look at him when you finally stop. He is silent, but because he is an honest person and you wait for an outburst, for tears, any expression of anger you know you deserve.
They never come.
Instead, Johnny lets out a shuddering breath, turns his heel, and walks away.
Two nights later, he does not perform poorly; he does not perform at all, for that matter. Instead, he is in the hospital with pneumonia and an IV drip in his arm as you claim the gold, your fourth World Championship-- which should have been his first.
Your conscience will not let you rest this time. When you finally see him again, it's the Champions on Ice tour and he avoids you like the plague, clinging to Evan Lysacek like a lifeline. You are certain that though Evan does not know anything, he willingly plays the role of protector-- enjoys it, even.
Four days in, you finally have a moment alone with him. Even then, he brushes you off.
It's fine, he replies succinctly. Leave it.
Johnny Weir no longer tries to be honest. You have turned him into a liar.
t h e . e n d
Now, before the flames start rolling: (1) I know this is grossly out of character because Plushenko would never fall in his short program twice. (2) I know that if Plushenko was beaten by Johnny, he'd be gracious about it. (3) Yes, this is RPS, but there's a first time for everything, yes? And lastly, I promise a fluffy Weir!slash fic in the future. The angst just came out first because... well, that's another story.
...that's all I can think of for now. Haven't written in about a month, so any constructive comments (esp characterization) would be great. Hope you enjoyed!
Pairing: Evgeni Plushenko x Johnny Weir
Rating: R (RPS)
Disclaimer: To my knowledge, this has never happened.
Archived @ Master List
Summary: For keajoaq. "Johnny Weir tries very hard to be an honest person. That is something you have to respect, even if the words that fall out of his mouth turn out to be more unintentional half-lies than whole truths."
Truth and Lies
Johnny Weir tries very hard to be an honest person. That is something you have to respect, even if the words that fall out of his mouth turn out to be more unintentional half-lies than whole truths.
When he tells the world from Turin that he did not follow the training regime of a good, obedient figure skater, he forgets to mention that, while he did not wake up early or stick to a strict diet, he did push himself very hard and train a lot, often excessively, to be able to reach his level of skating. The American public is unaware and they believe in the image of this rebel he has carved himself out to be. Johnny Weir is a very honest person and yet also a very excellent liar-- he has started to believe in the image as well.
Johnny does not notice, or perhaps he does not want to notice, that his injuries always flare up at the end of a season due to the training he puts himself through, and that they have cost him three chances to medal at the World Championships. The American public refers to this as 'inconsistentcy' and they conveniently forget that he has been their National champion for three straight years. You want to laugh at their ignorance, but you can't because then, you would be laughing at Johnny.
You have told him before, that his work schedule was too hard and that it was taking its toll on his body; he did not listen to you. You were Evgeni Plushenko, the idol beyond his reach, and he was Johnny Weir and, as his Sinatra exhibition told the world, he did things 'My Way'.
---
You are married. You have a wife and you are expecting a child. Maria captured your heart from the moment she drove by in her convertible and you love her dearly, but she will not join you in America and you will not yet willingly remain in Russia. So you settle for this instead, your naked body covering and grinding into his. With another woman, it would be an affair. With another man, it would be a sin. With Johnny, it was something magical.
This is not adultery, you tell him sharply after the first time. His Russian is flawed, but he understands your tone and leaves in silence, limping painfully back to his room. He does not speak to you for two days and you pay no heed to the yearning in your loins. Johnny Weir would break first because he was an honest person and you know you had made him feel that night. Sure enough, at the end of the second day, he calls your phone from the other end of the tour bus and everything returns to normal.
The second time, you know you're asking him to go against everything he believes in, everything he was taught, everything his heart stood against. You no longer care. You want. He gives. You take. He gives more. The cycle continues.
---
You return to your wife for the Russian Nationals and, immediately, you know something is wrong. You do not realize what it is until that night, in the moment of ecstacy, when all you can see is Johnny's face. The horror of your realization strikes you like a blow to the face. Something had changed in the off-season and your guilt torments you mercilessly as Maria sleeps peacefully beside you, blissfully unaware.
He comes to St. Petersburg for the Grand Prix Final and claims the silver beside your gold. After the event, you corner him in his hotel room and push him against the wall, all the while reminding yourself that this was Johnny, and you loved Maria. But when he lets out a gasp and arches, you lose control completely and press in deep, driving into him for all he was worth.
How unfortunate it was, that your body was more truthful than your heart.
---
You fall. Twice. You, who has breezed through every short program flawlessly, fall twice in Tosca. You were thinking of him last night. Nothing has caused you to lose concentration since your groin injury and you are furious with yourself.
He stumbles in the locker room, flushed and breathless with his own success-- he captured first after the short program. Your first.
Zhenya, he says in surprise, as if noticing you for the first time. Then came a tentative: How are you doing?
What have you done to me, you ask quietly.
The blood drains from his face. What have I done to you, he repeats incredulously, what have I done to you?!
Yes! What have you done to me?
Words pour from your mouth, words meant to hurt. Your frustrations, your hurt pride, everything comes out at once in a flurry.
You do not look at him when you finally stop. He is silent, but because he is an honest person and you wait for an outburst, for tears, any expression of anger you know you deserve.
They never come.
Instead, Johnny lets out a shuddering breath, turns his heel, and walks away.
Two nights later, he does not perform poorly; he does not perform at all, for that matter. Instead, he is in the hospital with pneumonia and an IV drip in his arm as you claim the gold, your fourth World Championship-- which should have been his first.
Your conscience will not let you rest this time. When you finally see him again, it's the Champions on Ice tour and he avoids you like the plague, clinging to Evan Lysacek like a lifeline. You are certain that though Evan does not know anything, he willingly plays the role of protector-- enjoys it, even.
Four days in, you finally have a moment alone with him. Even then, he brushes you off.
It's fine, he replies succinctly. Leave it.
Johnny Weir no longer tries to be honest. You have turned him into a liar.
t h e . e n d
Now, before the flames start rolling: (1) I know this is grossly out of character because Plushenko would never fall in his short program twice. (2) I know that if Plushenko was beaten by Johnny, he'd be gracious about it. (3) Yes, this is RPS, but there's a first time for everything, yes? And lastly, I promise a fluffy Weir!slash fic in the future. The angst just came out first because... well, that's another story.
...that's all I can think of for now. Haven't written in about a month, so any constructive comments (esp characterization) would be great. Hope you enjoyed!