Fandom: Figure Skating RPS
Pairing: J Weir/S Lambiel, J Weir/E Lysacek, J Weir/S Lambiel/E Lysacek
Warnings: threesome, fantasy violence, explicit sex, strong language
Summary: AU from Kings on Ice in March – while in Moscow, Johnny is attacked by a creature he only thought existed in nightmares. Infected by the vampire his only hope is a group of Vampire Hunters, but some of them think it would be easier to just kill him and be done with it. With more enemies than friends he struggles for his life as well as his humanity.
Links to other Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Epilogue
Artist: beadslut Art only post.
Mixer solookup Mix link
Chapter 3 Finding Strength
Johnny had asked Tara to see if she could arrange him some private ice time and, the jewel that she was, she'd called back after only an hour. The rink was small, but it wasn't too far away and they had been happy to let him have the whole place all to himself for an hour. Of course all to himself meant Stéphane was along too.
"You know," his lover said from where Stéphane was standing behind him, "to skate one must be on the ice."
"Shut up," he replied and swiped playfully at Stéphane's arm.
He was well aware he had been standing there for five minutes just looking, but he was strangely nervous. He hadn't been on the ice since the whole vampire thing had started and he was irrationally worried about it. Why he had no idea, that was the irrational part.
Stéphane nudged him in the back and he finally stepped out onto the ice. It felt just like it always felt like and he laughed, more at himself than anything else. Sometimes he was such an idiot.
"Now," Stéphane said, resting his chin on Johnny's shoulder and putting a hand on his waist, "we skate."
He didn't so much as try to resist as Stéphane propelled them forward and he laughed again, this time in delight. They had goofed around together on the ice so many times in the past, but this was different, somehow it felt far more intimate. They ended up face to face and doing a dance that was somewhere between a waltz and something unidentifiable, but Johnny didn't mind, he was happy to feel the ice beneath his skates and just look at Stéphane. For some reason part of him had been sure this would feel different, that he wouldn't like it anymore or wouldn't know how to do it, but, of course, it was all familiar and it was wonderful.
Grinning suddenly, he disentangled himself from Stéphane and took off down the rink.
"Catch me if you can," he yelled over his shoulder.
It was childish, but, with a whoop, Stéphane rose to the challenge. Johnny hadn't played ice tag in years; it was the kind of thing coaches frowned upon, but, boy, was it fun. He had forgotten how much until he danced out of the way of Stéphane at one end of the rink and then went charging off down the other. In the end, after several more laps, Stéphane sat down on the ice and refused to chase him anymore.
"Spoilsport," he complained, laughing and skating up to his friend and lover.
"Non, Mon Amour," Stéphane said, catching his hand and kissing his fingers, "I simply favour baiting the trap rather than chasing the mouse."
"I'm not the mouse," he replied with a grin, "I'm the cat," and he let his vampire out.
It wasn't the best of ideas; suddenly everything was too bright and too loud and his whole world narrowed down to Stéphane. He could smell sweat and musk and the first stirrings of arousal from his lover and it tried to rip his control away. All his feel for the ice and concentration were dragged away and his entire focus was on Stéphane, just Stéphane and nothing but Stéphane. It was all very overpowering.
"Fuck," he said pointedly and threw his hands over his eyes, demanding a little self control.
It was harder to put the vampire back in the box than he would have liked to admit and for a second he considered skating away, but he wasn't sure he could stay on his feet, so he remained where he was.
"Johnny, are you okay?" Stéphane asked after a few moments.
"Fine," he replied shortly, annoyed with himself as he tried to reassert his equilibrium.
Stéphane carefully climbed to his feet and then Johnny felt a gentle hand on his arm.
"Sorry," he apologised as he realised he had snapped at his lover, "vampires and ice skating don't mix."
"Too light?" Stéphane asked in a very careful tone that made Johnny smile.
He was going to miss it when people stopped tiptoeing around him.
"Too bright, too everything," he admitted, feeling a little bit stupid, "and then there's this overriding need to ravish you no matter what the temperature might be. For a while there I didn't even remember how to stand up on the ice, let alone skate."
"Ah," Stéphane said in a sage like tone, "perhaps we should wait for that until we return home."
That made Johnny laugh, which he guessed was the point, although he did make a mental note to take his lover up on that promise later.
"I think you're right," he replied, refusing to let the incident ruin their ice time. "Come on," he decided, "throw me, if we're going to be pairs champions for Sochi we need to start practicing now."
Stéphane laughed as well and Johnny grinned; he really did love the ice.
Picking up the phone, Johnny dialled the familiar number and waited. There was another person he needed to tell the truth, especially after being on the ice.
"Hello," came the almost fierce greeting.
"Hello," he replied after taking a deep breath, "it's Johnny."
"Johnnik," Galina said, sounding overjoyed to hear his voice, "I am so glad to hear your voice. How are you doing?"
"I've been on the ice," he replied, curling his leg under him on the couch in his parents' living room.
"This is good," was the instant response and his coach sounded genuinely happy for him, "but you are not rushing it, yes?"
He smiled to himself at the concern in Galina's voice; she was tough on him on the ice, but he knew she genuinely wanted what was best for him.
"There's nothing wrong with me," he said, voice getting smaller as he approached the truth, "nothing to stop me skating."
"Nothing from the bullet?" Galina asked, making it very clear she was completely up to date on his health as far as the public face of it went.
"Barely a scar," he said, wondering what she would make of that.
Bullet wounds did not go away with no residual problems just like that; not even small ones.
"You are welcome back whenever you wish, Johnnik," Galina finally said, as if she was considering possibilities about why he was calling her.
He wasn't sure he was going to be in the right headspace for that for a while yet, but he appreciated the sentiment.
"Thanks," he replied, balling his courage up to explain, "but that's why I'm calling. You might not want ..."
He really didn't know where to start.
"Johnnik," Galina said in her best motherly tone, "unless you retire, you are not losing me."
That made him smile again, even as his nerves made him shiver.
"Something happened," he said eventually, "in Russia, something bad."
"You are remembering?" was the immediate question.
"I never forgot," he replied honestly.
That brought a few moments silence.
"Tell me," was all Galina said after that.
He took a deep breath.
"Do you believe in vampires?" he asked, totally unsure of the answer he would get, because he never put anything past Galina.
"Oh, Johnnik, no," Galina said, sounding as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.
It was a bit of a shock not having someone react with complete disbelief when he mentioned vampires, but somehow, because it was Galina, it was not as surprising as it could have been.
"I should be dead," he said quietly, "but I'm not. You know when you keep telling me I can do anything if I put my mind to it; I think I might be beginning to believe you."
"I knew truth as soon as I saw you," Galina said simply, "now tell me what happened."
So he did, he explained it all, from the moment he had realised he was lost to how it had felt on the ice that afternoon and his coach just listened to is all as he talked. When, at times, he ran out of words, she encouraged him and in return he gave her the whole truth, even the fact that his sex drive seemed to be ramped up.
"Maybe that will not be such problem for you anymore then," had been Galina's comment on that and he had no idea how Galina came to that conclusion, but he didn't argue.
It was so cathartic and after nearly an hour he felt so much better.
"I never asked," he said eventually as he finally realised that his story was told, "how do you know about vampires?"
"Grandmother," Galina said simply, "she was firm believer in old truths and taught us all. I have seen too many things in life not to know stories are not all just tales."
Ever practical, that was Galina and it comforted him. She had asked him about skating and if anything felt different on the ice and grilled him for all the details, but he knew it was because she was already making plans. He didn't know what he was going to do yet; he was in no state to skate competitively yet, but he didn't know how soon that would change and it was good to know his coach was there for him. He had a future, whatever it turned out to be, and that was all he needed to know.
Returning to his own home felt like a natural step just under three weeks after coming back from Russia. Patti didn't seem so sure, but had let him go back to his apartment with Stéphane in tow after a little persuading. Once he had cleaned the place from top to bottom, with more hindrance from Stéphane and Paris (who had been there to welcome him back) he had felt much better. He had spent one day settling back in and then he had called Tara. They had been in contact by phone and email all the time, but there were some things that had to be done in person.
He was too close to Tara and needed her too much to keep her in the dark, but now she was sitting in his living room with a glass in her hand, he didn't know what to say.
"Johnny, are you okay?" she asked gently; Tara had been so incredibly good with him since the attack.
Since his world had turned on its head, he was a bit temperamental at times, but Tara was handling everything so well. She had never signed up for a neurotic, well maybe that should have been more neurotic client like him, but Tara was proving to be the godsend he had always knew she was.
"Yeah," he said, sitting down from where he had been just standing there, "kind of."
"What did you want to talk about?" Tara asked and gave him a very supportive look when he glanced up at her.
"Russia," he said and Tara instantly put her glass down and sat forward a little in concern.
She did not push him and she did not demand to know what was on his mind, but she did reach out and gently take his hand. He was beginning to wonder why he had asked Stéphane to leave them alone for this; he could have done with the moral support.
"I don't have amnesia," he said eventually, looking her in the eye; "I remember it all."
That definitely shocked Tara, but he could tell she was not jumping to conclusions.
"Do you need me to deal with anyone?" Tara asked him and he wasn't quite sure what she meant, but it made his heart swell a little at her concern.
"No thanks," he said and gave her a little smile which lasted about a second, "Zhenya has some scary connections and he dealt with everything."
That didn't seem to shock Tara at all and Johnny couldn't help wondering how much his agent had been talking to his Russian friend.
"Things exist, Tara," he said, not sure how to explain; "things we think are myths. I wasn't attacked by a human being. This," he added and put his hand on his chest over the tattoo, "is not decoration."
For the first time he saw a flicker of something in Tara's eyes that told him he was losing her. There was worry and it was more than obvious she did not believe him.
"Please don't scream," he said quietly; "I'm not going to hurt you," and then he pushed his vampire nature to the surface.
Tara all but glowed in his vision and he sat very still, allowing her to look at him. Very slowly, almost as if she was mesmerised, Tara lifted one of her hands and touched the side of his face so lightly he almost didn't feel it.
"Your eyes," Tara said, wonder in her voice.
"And teeth," he said, arching his lips so she could see one fang.
It was more than just that of course, but they were the most obvious things.
"Vampire?" Tara said, coming to her own conclusion just as he had known she would.
He nodded and let her look for a little longer before pushing the vampire below the surface again.
"I was bitten," he explained, watching carefully to see if Tara was about to freak, "but before the vampire could kill me or drag me off somewhere to have his wicked way with me I was rescued by vampire hunters."
"Like Buffy?" Tara asked and made Johnny laugh.
The image of Anton in a cheerleading outfit jumped into his head unbidden.
"Mostly more macho," he replied as he realised Tara was taking everything remarkably calmly. "Long story short, I was turning into a vampire like the one who bit me, so they tattooed me with the cross and stopped it. It was a last resort and I was gone so long because they tried just about everything else first. I'm stuck in the middle somewhere, human most of the time, vampire occasionally."
"Excuse me," Tara said after a moment, "I need a drink."
Then she picked up her glass and took a couple of huge gulps before setting it back down. Johnny just watched, unsure that interrupting would be a good idea.
"Okay, vampires," Tara said and shook herself, "I can deal with this."
When she looked back at him, Johnny sat there and waited for her verdict.
"You're okay though?" she asked and rather surprised him.
"Um, yes," he replied, not quite sure where this was going, "I'm fine, mostly. Still getting used to the whole thing, but you know me, I could bounce back from a nuclear blast."
It wasn't quite true, but it was what Tara needed to hear and she nodded as if she believed him even though she probably didn't.
"Do you need anything?" Tara asked and took the conversation in a direction he really hadn't expected it to go.
Of course Tara was his friend as well as his agent, so he realised he should have realised what would happen.
"Do you need blood?" she asked quickly.
"And where are you getting it now?" was the next efficient question.
"Stéphane," he admitted honestly.
That didn't seem to shock Tara either and Johnny was beginning to think he had made the best choice in the world when he had picked her.
"What about when he has to go home?" Tara asked, displaying an incredible level of forethought given the situation.
It began to dawn on Johnny that, where he cleaned to settle himself, Tara organised.
"I hadn't got that far yet," he replied and he was not overly surprised when Tara pulled out her Blackberry and began making notes.
"Is this going to affect your skating?" was her next question and Johnny settled in for a grilling.
"No," he told her and they went from there.
By the time Stéphane returned from the evening out with Paris, Tara had just about everything sorted out and Johnny was sure things were looking better than ever.
There were a hundred and one theories going around as to what had happened to Johnny, from a crazy fan kidnapping and drugging him, through him being attacked for being gay or a figure skater or American or any combination of the above, right to the nastier ones that he had been on an almost week long bender and shot himself to cover it up. Johnny couldn't exactly put the record straight and had to keep pretending he didn't know what had happened, but that didn't stop the requests for interviews coming in. He was now a survivor, even if no one knew what of, and people wanted to hear his story.
The moment the word went out that he was back on his feet, his calendar was full. He did talk shows, red carpets, radio interviews and even glossy spreads in magazines. Then there was the last episode of the first season of Be Good Johnny Weir to finalise as well, which went fantastically, and the production company began talking about season two as if it was a complete certainty.
He was more of a media darling than ever and everyone knew about the cross and most were very delicate about it, asking if he was going to have it removed and things like that, but it was more than clear they all wanted to see it. In the end he began to realise it was almost as famous as he was and he decided to embrace it. He took his shirt off on live television and then did a full page spread in a national magazine to show the damn thing off. He was through being a victim.
When one of his angels sent him a beautiful jacket with the cross incredibly carefully hand stitched onto the back, he wore it with a thin gauze shirt that showed off the real thing. He hit the front page of a couple of entertainment mags with that one.
Of course Stéphane had to go home after a few weeks and there were tearful goodbyes and kisses at the airport and then more publically, hugs that hit the internet almost before they were over. Neither of them were of a mind to hide their relationship, but they weren't about to broadcast it either. Their official stance was that Stéphane had become Johnny's confidant while he was in hospital and had insisted on helping his transition back to normal life. It wasn't far from the truth, so Johnny was happy with it.
The problem was, as soon as Stéphane was gone, the nightmares started. He had had a few right at the beginning, but with Stéphane there they had stopped and with Stéphane back home they began again. He spent several sleepless nights before he finally woke up one night and just rang his friend and lover. Stéphane talked him to sleep and thus began a pattern; his phone bills went up, but his nightmares went down and it seemed to be a workable system. Tara got him a deal on his calls so that Stéphane's number became really low rate and life continued on.
Blood was delivered every Tuesday and he drank it when he needed it from a glass, through a straw like a civilised human being. He started training properly again and accepted a couple of ice shows and everything started to go back to normal. He had to get a small second fridge to put in his bedroom for the blood so that Paris wouldn't find anything when nosing around in his kitchen and his collection of sunglasses began to get an even greater work out than usual, but those were the only major changes he had to make. He had decided that he was not telling anyone else about his condition, not even his best friend and he stuck to it. It worked for a while as well, right up until a trip to L.A. to talk to the publishers about his upcoming book.
He was an idiot, that much Johnny was well aware of. It had been a fun evening out with a few acquaintances and then he'd had to go and spot Evan Lysacek of all people. He'd followed the other skater from a bar to the club they had just exited and he should have left well alone. Firstly he really wanted to bite Evan; the need was almost overwhelming, but he was just about managing to control himself (he could just imagine the talking to Stéphane would give him if he bit anyone without their express permission) and then there was the worrying sensation at the back of his skull.
Evan hadn't noticed him at first, but when he had Johnny had made sure Evan couldn't ignore him. That had been a mistake, especially when Johnny had sensed another vampire. He'd almost lost it in the club and he'd partially shifted for a moment so he was pretty sure the other vampire had noticed him, which made the whole thing worse. With protective instincts in play he'd gone too close to Evan and Evan had decided he was dicking with him and had stormed out; all in all very bad because the sensation of the other vampire would not go away.
"Evan," he said, choosing Evan's real name rather than any of the nicknames he usually called him, "come back inside, please. I'll leave, but it's not safe out here."
Evan was just drunk enough to not care it seemed and dark alleys in LA were not safe at the best of times and with what Johnny could feel, this one was definitely worse.
"Awww, not going to share, Sugar?" a voice said from the darkness and Johnny could just make out a shape in the shadows.
Without shifting form again he could not see her clearly, but he could see enough and, when she stepped out of inky blackness into one of the lights, he put himself between Evan and her.
"I'm not the sharing type," he said coldly, holding his ground.
"This is my hunting ground, Sugar," the female vampire said, smiling at him in a very unconvincing way; "either you share, or I take what I want and leave you in a little pile."
She sounded home grown American; looked it too, which meant the odds were in his favour. Given that she was probably assuming his bloodline was local as well, he had the advantage. His Russian bloodline would be stronger and although she was most likely much more experienced than he was there was no substitute for brute strength.
"You could try, Lapushka," he dropped into a Russian accent, wondering if he could scare her off that way.
"What the hell?" came from Evan. "Johnny, what the fuck are you doing?"
For a moment she hesitated, but then straightened again.
"Nice try, Sugar," she said and smiled dangerously, "but you don't scare me."
Evan stepped up to his shoulder and Johnny moved back in front of the other skater.
"Evan, stay behind me, okay," he said very firmly.
"Like hell I will," Evan replied, sounding more than a little drunk.
There was nothing else for it and Johnny turned to Evan and let his vampire traits out.
"Stay behind me," he said very pointedly, power making his voice resonate as he stressed each word, and he knew his eyes would be glowing.
"Shit," Evan said, taking a step back.
Point made, Johnny turned back to the problem at hand; he could deal with Evan later. The female vampire was frowning at him, obviously not understanding his motives.
"Last chance, Lapushka," he said, dropping back into the accent and hoping his strange behaviour would convince her not to risk a confrontation.
He was pretty sure he should have been afraid, after all he was up against a fully fledged vampire, but, although his heart was beating fast, it was not because he was scared. The vampire part of him was actually looking forward to the fight and he let it all the way to the surface. There was no point in holding back now; he needed every advantage he could get.
"This is my territory," the female vampire told him and snarled, showing him long vicious fangs, "I don't take well to invaders."
Then she launched herself at him, far faster than he was expecting and she got in the first blow. He stumbled back as her fists connected with his chest, but it fired him up more than damaging him. He growled and made an attack of his own, but she was fast and he barely caught her shoulder.
It did not start out as the most sophisticated fight, an exchange of hits, almost a measuring of strength more than anything else as they danced around each other, but Johnny had the disadvantage. He was keeping himself between the other vampire and Evan and it meant his range of movement was not as large. After a little while this left him with some gouges down his left arm and a bloody lip, when all he had to show for his attacks on the other vampire was a single scratch on her face. However, he was beginning to get the hang of his vampire abilities and he was faster than her.
The playing seemed to be over as she came in for another attack and grabbed both his wrists, trying to force him backwards against the wall. That was her first mistake. To begin with, he moved under the onslaught, but it didn't take him long to recover from the shock of the move and then he stopped. She pushed, but he held and held easily, bit by bit bringing his arm back down where she had pushed them up and to the side. For the first time he saw anxiety on the face of his opponent as she realised she was up against someone much stronger than she was.
Johnny was inexperienced, but he was getting the hang of the whole situation and that meant he was starting to win.
With a screech, the female vampire ripped one of her hands away from one of his wrists and claws raked at his shirt, but he was faster. Once free, he moved away just enough so that her attack ripped open the front of his shirt, but entirely missed doing any damage. His other wounds were already healing and he smiled at her, even as she backed away.
"Going to run now?" he asked, even though his vampire nature was urging him to attack.
"Never," was the hissed response and he saw her eyes flick to Evan.
Evan was his weakness and they clearly both knew it, but he was also sure he could distract her. His shirt was hanging awkwardly now, so he flicked the top button and let it fall open properly, which was when the other vampire saw the cross. Her eyes opened in shock and she stepped back again.
"What are you?" she demanded, clearly not understanding at all.
"Not like you," was all he replied.
It was almost as if everything was in slow motion suddenly. He saw her look at Evan again and even before she moved he knew what she was going to do. When she tried to dart round him, he was already in the way and this time he caught her arms. She screamed, trying to pull away as they came close together and the cross almost touched her, but Johnny was not letting her free. He was not letting her hurt Evan and it was clear that was what she was trying to do and he span them both, shoving her against the wall of the alley.
"Never like you," he whispered harshly and then drew back one of his arms.
He wasn't really aware of what he was going to do until he did it, but his fingers passed into her chest as if it was made of soft butter. The fact that he hadn't even considered where her heart was did occur to him, even as his fingers closed around it, and then he pulled. There was a look of abject shock on the female vampire's face and she stared at him for one second before her body realised her heart was gone and then her eyes went glassy. She died with little more than a gurgle and Johnny was left standing there, more than slightly shocked by what he had just done as the heart in his hand quivered one last time. Everything stayed like that for several seconds until there was a nasty squishing sound.
"Oh, yuck," Johnny said, dropping the corpse and the heart as it began to melt.
His hand was smeared with black blood, his shirt was ruined and he was not in the best of moods, but he was also well aware he now had to deal with Evan.
"Far be it from us to interrupt," a cocky voice said from further down the alley; "I mean, turf wars make our job that much simpler, but now it's our turn."
Johnny swore loudly in Russian before his brain caught up with how that might have been a really bad idea.
"Tyler, shut the fuck up and keep him covered," an older voice said and Johnny carefully lifted his hands.
He did not dare even twitch further than that, since he didn't want a cross bow bolt in the back, so he didn't even try to turn.
"This is not what it looks like," he tried, hoping to be able to explain somehow.
"Shut up vamp," the aforementioned Tyler said, "or you'll meet the Devil twice as fast."
Just what he needed, a vampire hunter with an attitude; clearly it was a rule that every group had to have one.
"Nick, check out the other one," the older voice instructed and Johnny assumed that voice had to belong to the leader of the group.
"Johnny?" Evan sounded really quite scared and not so much drunk anymore.
"Just do what they say, Evan," he said, not moving at all; "they're not the bad guys, at least I don't think they are."
There was the sound of movement.
"Hey!" came from Evan and Johnny almost turned.
"He's not been bitten," someone announced, Johnny assumed it was Nick.
"Can I turn around?" he asked, pretty sure that the cross on his chest would at least give him a chance. "You can shoot me in the front just as easily as the back."
"But your back is far less dangerous," the older voice said simply.
It was a fair point.
"Look," he said, still facing the wall, "take a good look at the man you think is a victim; you might recognise him."
"He does look familiar," the voice he thought belonged to Nick revealed a few moments later.
"Oh for heaven's sake," Johnny said, wondering what rock the hunters had been living under; "he's Evan Lysacek, an Olympic Gold Medallist; he was on Dancing with the fucking Stars, almost won it too."
He heard someone catching on to that.
"Which changes things how?" the older man asked.
"He's Johnny Weir," Evan said, in a kind of lost voice.
He was going to launch into a tirade about being on a red carpet that afternoon with lots of other famous pepole, something which had made the papers, but he was beaten to it: "Turn around," the older voice said, "very slowly."
He had never done anything quite so carefully in his life and he kept his hands exactly where they were as he slowly turned to face the hunters. A bright light was instantly shone in his face and he couldn't help the move to shield his eyes, but it had to make the cross on his chest even more obvious where his shirt was hanging open.
"Fuck," the one Johnny assumed was Nick said, "what the hell are you?"
"Half and half," Johnny said, still standing very carefully still. "Can I take my hands down yet?"
"No," was the very pointed reply from the older looking man who had a shotgun pointed directly at his head.
He guessed the teenager next to the older man was Tyler.
"What are you doing here?" the older man demanded of him.
"I was enjoying a night out," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm, "but then she turned up," he indicated the pile of goo on the ground with a nod of his head, "and things got ugly. I object to people taking bites out of my friends."
He and Evan weren't exactly friends in the real sense of the word, but they weren't enemies and, in the current situation, that was enough for him.
"Planning on doing any biting yourself?" the older man asked, but his weapon was no longer trained directly between his eyes.
"Not unless invited," Johnny replied in his best mock pleasant tone. "I know the Russians contacted half the US about me, didn't you get the memo?"
"Didn't believe it," the older man said and nodded to his companions who lowered their crossbows, "until now; thought they'd been at too much vodka."
Johnny carefully lowered his arms.
"Wish they had," he replied honestly, "but no, it's true."
Yuri had helpfully sent him a copy of the coded email the Moscow cell had sent out. It had mostly been favourable.
"Lurking in dark alleys can get you killed, Mr Weir," the older man said and indicated the end of the alley to his fellow hunters with a nod of his head.
"That's what I was just trying to tell Evan when she showed up," Johnny replied, about all he wanted to do was get out of Dodge as fast a physically possible.
The hunters began to disappear the same way they had come and Johnny began to breathe a little more easily.
"Good night, Gentlemen," the lead hunter said and then he was walking away as well.
It was so not how Johnny had wanted to finish the evening.
"Johnny," Evan said as they were left alone in the alley; "what the fuck is going on?"
The poor guy sounded kind of desperate and Johnny really couldn't blame him; it wasn't as if a person found out that vampires were real every day.
"Moscow," he said simply, watching the hunters disappear; "not a normal kidnap, don't have amnesia; it's more a matter of people would never believe me."
When he dared look at Evan, the other skater was clearly still trying to process what he had just seen.
"Vampires are real?" Evan sounded very unsure of himself.
"Yeah," Johnny replied with a nod, "and so are vampire hunters."
"And you're a vampire?" Evan sounded even more unsure of that one.
"Kind of," Johnny replied; it wasn't exactly easy to explain when he really wasn't quite sure himself. "The transformation to vampire is supposed to wipe out all humanity," he did his best to give Evan vampire 101; "vampires only care about blood and sex. I was found by a group of Russian vampire hunters before I turned completely; they helped me so I'm somewhere in between. Like this I'm human; if I let out the fangs and the eyes I get the vampire power. I need blood, but I can eat normal food too. As you just saw the experts don't really know what to make of me."
Evan still appeared very shell shocked.
"You can't even be a normal vampire," Evan said, seemingly falling back on their rivalry at completely the wrong time.
"I think I prefer it to the alternative," Johnny said, trying not to be too bitchy about it, "which, for your information, would be dead."
So maybe it came out a little harsher than he had meant it to. Evan didn't seem to know what to say.
"Why the fuck are you here?" Evan seemed to decide to go with an easier topic.
"A moment of insanity," Johnny muttered, more to himself than Evan.
"What?" was the not unexpected reply.
Johnny took a deep breath; he supposed Evan did deserve an explanation.
"I'm in LA for a publicity meeting," he said, since that was why he was in the city, "and I came out for a little fun. I saw you and kind of homed in."
Evan was frowning at him again.
"Homed in?" Evan asked, appearing very dubious. "On me? Why?"
It was a sensible question given the fact they usually avoided each other. Under normal circumstances they mostly pretended the other didn't exist; they had never been good friends even if at times they had been friendlier and the rivalry helped both their careers, so they had a system.
"Believe me," Johnny admitted, "it surprised me when I did it."
Of course that didn't explain anything and Evan frowned more; it was not a good look on him.
"This is so embarrassing," Johnny muttered even though he knew Evan would hear it. "I have a type, okay, and you fall way into the category. Seems my alternative side has picked up on it. Sometimes I'm under the control of my vampire instincts and by the time I got a hold of them this time we were in the same club and your expression was priceless, so I stuck around. I swear I did not mean to ruin your evening, just have a little fun, and then when I felt another vampire about there was no way I was letting you out of my sight."
He watched as Evan processed all of this information.
"I'm your type?" it wasn't the part of the explanation Johnny had expected Evan to pick.
He felt his face heating up as he blushed.
"Yes, okay," he said somewhat waspishly, "it happens to be dark and handsome; I've fancied you for years, can we just forget about it now?"
This conversation was becoming more awkward by the second.
"Your vampire wants to eat me?" Evan seemed to be a bit stuck.
"Oh for heaven's sake," Johnny said exasperatedly; "blood and sex, Evan; my vampire wants to more than eat you, but I have it firmly under control now. Now, let's skip it."
He glared at Evan to make his point and considered letting out his vampire, but decided that might be too much for Evan right about then.
"And the other vampire?" Evan looked over at the patch on the ground that had once been Johnny's opponent.
"Don't know," Johnny replied honestly; "she might have just bitten you and killed you, or she might have wanted her wicked way with you. Either way, I was not letting it happen."
It sounded so damn protective and he realised that maybe his instincts were getting the better of him again.
"Look," he said, realising they were not in the best place for the conversation, "I am covered in nasty shit and I'm half dressed, so I want to go back to my hotel. I am happy to answer your questions, but can we do it there?"
Evan's expression at that was even more priceless than when the Olympic champion had spotted him the first time in the club.
"Evan," he said, speaking very slowly; "I swear I will not attempt to jump you or in any other way molest you unless you specifically request it, now can we go, since you already abandoned your friends?"
Evan still didn't appear too sure, but did nod. Johnny breathed a sigh of relief and began to hope they could find a cab that would pick them up with him in his current state.
In the end they did find a cab and they made it back to Johnny's hotel. He had waved off the concierge by making up an incident in a club and then hurried Evan upstairs before anyone realised who was with him. He'd then left Evan with the mini bar and permission to take whatever he liked and dived into the bathroom to clean up. A shower, pair of jeans and a t-shirt later he stepped out of the smaller room and found Evan sitting in the one arm chair in the room, holding a beer.
"Sorry about that," he apologised, since he had left Evan in the lurch, "who knew vampire goo was so difficult to get off."
Evan handed him another beer that he hadn't noticed sitting on the table and he accepted it even though he didn't really feel like drinking it before sitting on the bed and pulling his legs up underneath him.
"What's the real story with the cross?" Evan asked almost as soon as he was sitting.
He looked down at himself and realised the v-neck of his chosen shirt just showed the tip of the cross.
"It was part of the treatment they gave me to stop the transformation," Johnny replied and changed his mind, taking a swig of the beer. "Vampires react badly to holy symbols of all kinds, something to do with the strength of faith on the human psyche. It hurt like a bitch when they did it, but I was on the verge of losing the battle and it did seem to be the turning point, forgive the pun."
"So it's like the movies?" Evan asked and it seemed he was taking the whole conversation seriously.
Johnny shrugged, since he really didn't know the whole story; it wasn't like he had taken a class.
"Some of it is," he replied as he thought about what he did know. "Normal vampires can't take sunlight, but they smoulder more than burst into flame. I just don't really like bright light even when I'm human. Their weak points are the heart and removing the head like the movies; all other wounds heal and limbs re-grow. If I get hurt I can heal it by letting the vampire out, but I need blood soon after if I do. I don't know what would happen if someone shot me somewhere deadly or something when I'm normal; I assume it would kill me, but you can understand why I haven't tested it."
Evan did manage to look a little less serious at that, for a moment at least.
"How do you get blood?" the other man asked next.
"Red cross," Johnny said, taking another swig of his beer and he saw Evan look dubious; "seriously; I buy it from them. Tara set it up so I look like some medical trust. I don't need it more than once a week; I'm addicted so I'd like it more, but I do have some self control."
"So you don't bite people?" Evan seemed a little stuck on that point and Johnny couldn't help feeling a little wicked.
"Why, Evan," he said and flashed a fang with a smile, "you sound disappointed."
The way Evan shifted in his seat made Johnny think he might have not been too far off, but he was above taking advantage of Evan's delicate psychological state and put it out of his head.
"There is one person I bite," he decided to explain; "and he seems to enjoy it, but we're not together very often. I wouldn't bite anyone without their express permission."
He made that point very clearly.
"Think of it like sex," he tried to give an analogy; "overpowering someone and just taking it would be like rape. I may have extreme instincts, but I am no more likely to act on them than I would have been to force myself on someone before."
That at least did seem to satisfy Evan, who nodded, seeming to understand. It was funny, explaining everything to Evan was nowhere near as uncomfortable as he had thought it would be and Evan wasn't reacting in any way he had really expected. The fact that Evan seemed to be taking everything in and cataloguing it in his head was kind of reassuring. He imagined how Paris would react if he told him and it made him smile as he visualised the complete flip out that would result.
"What's funny?" Evan asked, a little bit uncomfortably, and Johnny didn't really blame him, because Johnny did like making fun of his rival.
"I was just contrasting you with Paris and how he would react," Johnny said, not feeling like playing games; "he'd freak and probably scream the place down."
Evan didn't smile, but he did appear to settle a bit at the explanation.
"How many people know?" Evan asked, another reasonable question.
"My family, Tara, Galina, Evgeni, Stéphane and now you," Johnny said simply.
He saw the cogs tick round in Evan's head and he realised he had most probably revealed the partner he had deliberately not named.
"You and Lambiel are more than friends then?" Evan sounded surprised.
"That's private," Johnny said firmly and Evan had the decency to look abashed.
"Sorry," was the quick response.
"Moving on," Johnny said and forced a smile as he accepted the apology; "any more questions?"
"You're not exclusive?" Evan asked and then looked shocked at his own question.
It was obvious that there was a reason Evan usually took time before he spoke.
"Any more questions like that, Evan," Johnny said, smiling coyly, "and I'll take it as an invitation."
Evan went a deep shade of pink and shifted again. Johnny decided to ignore it as a physical reaction to the extreme situation and not read too much into it. Evan seemed to be just a little bit aroused. It was interesting information, but Johnny was not going to use it against his rival; Evan didn't seem to be as straight as his image suggested. Not that this shocked Johnny, he had known Evan a long time after all and he might not have known him well, but he had noticed things.
"How strong are you?" Evan asked, changing the subject about as smoothly as the situation allowed.
"Like this," Johnny said, perfectly happy with that topic, "normal, with the fangs out, very. I don't know how much stronger vampires are than humans, but it's a lot. I could lift you with one hand if I wanted; I've done it with Stéphane; he screamed like a girl."
He giggled at his own joke; it had been a very funny moment. Evan seemed to agree, because he saw the first real smile on the other man's face.
"God, this is so fucked up," Evan said, sitting back in his chair and running his hand through his hair; "how do you deal with it?"
"One day at a time," Johnny replied and saluted his companion with his bottle.
Evan gave him a long appraising look then and Johnny just let him.
"Has it affected your skating?" was the question that came from left field, but it kind of made sense given that their relationship was all about the ice.
"Not physically," he replied, honestly; "falling over is still a bitch, but I'm in a whole new head space now. It's taking some getting used to. I discovered pretty quickly that vampires can't concentrate for shit when it comes to ice skating and it's too bright and too loud even to have a little fun."
"Probably not the best place to go all fangy either," Evan observed in a very practical tone, "unless you want to out yourself to the world."
Johnny just couldn't let that one go completely.
"'go all fangy'?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.
"You knew what I meant," Evan defended himself; he was cute when he was wrong footed.
Johnny laughed and took a swig of his beer; Evan really wasn't the most eloquent of people, but he was kind of adorable. When he caught that thought, Johnny sat on it viciously; flirting was one thing, seriously thinking things like that was a whole other ball game.
"Do you mind if I ask what actually happened in Moscow?" Evan asked after a few moments of contemplative silence.
It was a bit of a surprise to himself when Johnny found he didn't. He shook his head, grabbed a pillow from the bed, hugged it to himself and tried to put his thoughts in some kind of order.
"Vampires can mesmerise humans," was how he decided to start, "or at least the older bloodlines can; don't think the others can do more than make themselves seem more attractive than they are. It was just my luck to attract the attention of one of Moscow's big boys and I ended up lost after he enticed me from where I was going."
He'd told the story only to a very select number of people, but it felt strangely easy to tell it again as he launched into a sanitised version of events. Evan, as it turned out, was a good listener.
As soon as Evan was safely on his way home, Johnny pulled out his phone and speed dialled Stéphane. It was 4am, but he was pretty sure that meant it was well into the morning where Stéphane was.
"Good morning, Mon Amour," Stéphane greeted, sounding completely perfect as ever, "is it not the middle of the night where you are?"
"Yes," Johnny replied, throwing himself onto the bed, "but you are never going to guess what happened to me this evening."
"You stripped naked in your hotel lobby and showed off your beautiful body?" was Stéphane's deadpan response.
That made Johnny stop for a moment, because it gave him ideas about him and Stéphane, which tended to derail his thoughts.
"No," he said, recovering himself and making sure Stéphane could tell he was rolling his eyes with his tone, "way more insane than that. Evan knows."
He congratulated himself on rendering Stéphane speechless when there was a few seconds silence.
"Would you care to explain, Mon Amour?" was the eventual comeback.
"Of course," Johnny replied, "why do you think I called?"
He settled down on the bed and made himself comfortable.
"You know sometimes my instincts get the better of me?" he started once he was in place.
"I have noticed on occasion," was the slightly amused response.
"Well I was out for a prowl with a couple of people from the publicity company," he continued, smiling at the memories Stéphane's tone brought up, "just wandering around to let out some pent up energy," he began to explain. "Then the next thing I know I'm inside this club and Evan is across the way; I followed him in without thinking about it. You have to admit he's nice on the eyes."
"Mais oui," was Stéphane's response, "I have often thought so."
That was interesting news, it wasn't as if they had really discussed Evan before.
"Well as soon as I realised what I was doing I shut it all down, but you know me," he continued, "can't resist messing with people like Evan a little bit, so I danced and had a good time. Then I felt another vampire around."
He heard Stéphane gasp.
"I thought I'd be afraid or something," he said, going over what had gone through his head, "but I wasn't, it was weird. I just felt incredibly protective and after that I couldn't leave."
"I can understand that," Stéphane replied, sounding a little strained.
"Well Evan blew a gasket and stormed off, because he caught me watching," Johnny continued his story, "and I went after him; that's when she appeared, the other vampire."
There was another gasp from the other end of the call.
"You are not hurt?" was the hurried question.
"Not a scratch," Johnny promised; "Yuri was right; the Russian bloodlines are a lot stronger than the North American ones. I might have gone a little OTT when I ripped her heart out, but she wanted Evan and I wasn't letting her have him. That's when the vampire hunters showed up."
From the sounds of it he was giving Stéphane heart failure.
"Vampire hunters," was the worried question.
"Hmm," he replied, rearranging himself on the bed, "they thought there was a turf war going on, but we eventually straightened it out. Maybe I should get a cross on my back too so it can be seen from all directions, I mean my shirt was wrecked by her claws and it was seeing the cross that seemed to be what convinced them."
There was breathing from the other end of the line.
"Mon Amour," Stéphane said eventually, "you are worrying me. You are in one piece yes, and unharmed?"
"Completely," Johnny promised, smiling to himself, "I am perfect, in fact I think I feel better than I have done in ages. I'm pumped. I met another vampire and I kicked her ass. It was weird too; Evan took the whole explanation really well. He freaked a little at first, but by the time I got him back to my hotel room and gave him the whole talk he was fine with it."
"Both of these are good," was Stéphane's considered opinion on the matter. "Since you are speaking to me I assume you have not yet made love to him."
That kind of derailed Johnny's thoughts.
"What?" was about the most sensible thing he could find to say.
Sometimes Stéphane just did not think like anyone else on the planet.
"I cannot be with you all the time, Mon Amour," Stéphane told him in a soothing tone, "and Evan would make a very good third. I have noticed, you do not do well alone no matter how you wish to pretend and vampires require sex as well as blood."
Johnny's thoughts were spinning. He and Stéphane had agreed not to be exclusive, because their lifestyles at the moment were insane and Johnny had joked about it with Evan, but he had never seriously considered being unfaithful to Stéphane. It might have been old fashioned, but he didn't work that way and his vampire nature had not yet insisted. He had assumed his half nature meant that wasn't so much of a problem, but it was starting to dawn on him that that might be why he had reacted on instinct when it came to that evening.
"But I'm in love with you," he admitted in a small voice, wondering what this really meant between them.
"Mais oui," Stéphane said in his usual cheerful tone, "and I you, Mon Amour, but our hearts are big enough for another, n'est ce pas?"
It was all a bit confusing, but Johnny was beginning to think Stéphane knew him a little better than he knew himself.
"You mean you want to ... with Evan as well?" he had to make sure he wasn't just misreading his lover.
"As you said, Mon Amour, he is very easy on the eye," Stéphane told him, "and when we are all in the same place I would expect you to share."
That made him laugh; Stéphane really did have Prince Charming down, but he was also a kinky bastard.
"I get it now," he said, feeling his heart lightening a bit, "you want me to seduce Evan so you can have your wicked way with him."
Stéphane made a speculative humming sound.
"You may be right," was the cheerful response and they both laughed.
These days Johnny was learning all sorts of things about Stéphane he had never guessed.
"But seriously, Mon Amour," Stéphane said, growing more serious again, "if he is willing I believe he would be good for you and us. That he already knows is one jump less and you have always watched him with a needy eye."
Johnny wasn't sure about that, but he wasn't about to argue with it; maybe Stéphane was seeing more than he was again.
"He was definitely interested," he admitted, remembering Evan's reactions, "but that might just have been all the adrenaline. We might actually be going back to being friends, so I don't want to wreck it."
Stéphane made an agreeing sound.
"D'accord," Stéphane eventually replied, "I shall leave it to your judgement, Mon Amour, but I will expect details if you change your mind."
"That I can do," he promised, feeling very relaxed.
"Now," his lover told him from the other end of the call, "I wish to know exactly how you took down this queen bitch vampire woman. When I write my memoirs I must know all details so I may report them accurately."
That made Johnny laugh; he could just imagine how well that book would sell.
Johnny had been home for a few days then off doing an ice show and then he was back in L.A. for more meetings and red carpet stuff. The fact that Evan had offered him a place to stay while he was in town was kind of mind blowing. He had almost said no, using some excuse about hotels and ease of access, but then he'd changed his mind. Stéphane had told him to go for it, in fact, Stéphane had given him a whole plan that had made Johnny reconsider Stéphane's angelic persona quite a lot. The fact that Evan knew what he was, knew he had a thing for him and had still invited him to stay made him wonder if there wasn't something Evan was hiding as well. He wasn't conceited enough to think he was the be all and end all, but there did seem to be a few of them who had been carrying around crushes the size of rhinos and just not mentioning them.
Neither of them were stupid enough to have made the arrangement without talking to their agents first, so when people noticed, because they would very shortly, there was a story ready. Rivals to friends would make a good story and Johnny definitely wanted to keep the friends part, even if it didn't lead to anything else. They had been communicating mainly by phone, but they had just taken the step of deliberately friending each other on Twitter. Johnny had a bet on with Evan how long it would take their fans to notice.
He'd caught a taxi to Evan's house, because Evan Lysacek picking up Johnny Weir from the airport would have caused a circus. They both had fans who seemed to be psychic about where they would be, so it hadn't been worth the risk, but Evan was there waiting to help him with his luggage after he texted his friend that he would be there shortly.
"The spare room's a little flowery," Evan said as he helped haul Johnny's second suitcase up the stairs, "I had to let my mom decorate one room or she would have tried for the whole house, but it's liveable."
"With the number of hideous hotel rooms we've stayed in over the years," Johnny replied, taking in Evan's house with interest, "I think I can cope."
"Yeah," Evan agreed with a smile. "Oh, if you want to take a shower and freshen up the water's hot."
"Thanks," he said; this was already turning out to be a good stay.
The spare room was indeed just as Evan had described, in fact Johnny had a sneaking suspicion it might actually have been a joke, because no one could like flowers quite that much. Either a joke or revenge he decided when he found poppies on everything on the bedside table.
"I'll be just downstairs," Evan told him after making sure he knew where everything was, "just call if you need anything."
"Will do," he replied and smiled, "thanks."
As soon as Evan left the room, Johnny picked up the towel that had been neatly laid out on the bed and put it to his nose. He was instantly hit by a fresh lavender scent and he knew he was going to enjoy his stay. Evan's place was not quite as spick and span as his own, but it was well on its way. As he began to strip out of his clothes he wondered if Evan would throw a fit if he found himself needing to pledge something during his stay.
"There is a flame war going on on Twitter," Evan said when Johnny finally came downstairs.
He was feeling much more human now that he was clean and refreshed.
"Seems your fans and my fans both think someone hacked our accounts and are accusing each other," Evan added, turning the laptop so Johnny could see.
The first thing Johnny noticed was that the user name was not Evan's usual one.
"You have an account to watch your fans?" he asked, realising what he was seeing.
"Yeah," Evan replied with a grin; "it's a trip."
Johnny could only imagine.
"Maybe we should step in," he said, reading the screen and watching it become even more vicious with every passing second as Evan refreshed the page.
Their fans were wonderful, but sometimes scary people.
"Yeah," Evan agreed with a nod and flicked to another browser, "what should I say?"
Johnny thought about that for a minute and then pulled out his blackberry.
"Don't mention the conflict directly, it'll only rile them up," he decided as he logged on, "just do one of your usuals and name drop me rather than one of those big shots you normally like to hang around with. Then I'll reply."
He gave Evan a grin when his friend looked at him.
"Make sure to spell something wrong so they know it's really you," he added and laughed when Evan gave him the finger.
That didn't stop Evan typing away, however.
"There," Evan said and Johnny refreshed his screen and read the message.
"Having lunch with @JohnnyGWeir," he read aloud, "new beginnings FTW!"
It was short and really quite sweet and Johnny was touched by the sentiment. It was more serious than he had expected and he liked it.
"Mongooses are hospitable, who knew?" he quickly typed. "@EvanLysacek, right back at you!"
Evan gave him a very happy smile for that.
"So, want that lunch I mentioned?" Evan asked and stood up. "They'll need time to digest that."
Johnny nodded, for once he and Evan were in total agreement.
Lunch turned out to be salad, but it had the most delicious dressing on it Johnny had ever tasted and bonus upon bonus, it was a light dressing.
"My mom's recipe," Evan told him as they sat eating; "she keeps coming up with them because she thinks I don't eat."
"You don't," Johnny replied with a shrug, "none of us do, but with things like this we can pretend. Your mom is a genius."
Honestly, Johnny had never thought he would ever say such a thing about Evan's mom; funny how things turned out.
"Well except at decorating spare rooms," he added with a grin, "but I'm still hoping that's a joke."
"Yeah," Evan replied, "it could be, but it's not like I can ask. I just have to suffer in silence and apologise to anyone who stays until she tells me I can change it."
Johnny grinned; their mothers weren't really that much different in one respect it seemed, although he would have just outright asked Patti if she was insane if she'd tried anything with poppies.
"What you need is to get your sister to suggest to your mom that you need to do it up for your nephew so he can come stay when he's a little older," he said, thinking over Evan's problem. "Then you can go to town with race cars and things; anything is better than poppies."
At first Evan looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected Johnny to know about his nephew, and then Evan appeared pleased.
"I think you may be the genius," Evan replied and then they spent the rest of lunch talking about what was and what was not appropriate for a prepubescent boy's bedroom.
"I've decided not to compete the coming season," Johnny said once he was done with the food, putting his fork down and marvelling at just how much he had eaten.
Evan actually appeared shocked.
"You're not retiring though?" Evan asked, sounding almost worried and it made Johnny smile.
"No," he assured his friend, "just taking a year off. With everything that's happened I need time to refocus. I think if I competed this year it might make some of my bad years look good."
Evan nodded along with what he was saying as if he understood the mentality.
"I've been considering retiring," Evan admitted from the other side of the table, "but I decided I couldn't do it; I have more skating left in me."
"You'll show the young whippersnappers how it's done," he replied with a grin.
Neither of them were thirty, or even really close to it, and, yet, in their sport they were almost over the hill. Evan had his Olympic gold, but still wanted to go on skating and Johnny found that he liked that. It would have been so easy to quit on a high and just not bother anymore.
"Come on," he said as Evan took the plates and put them in the dish washer, "we better check the Twitter situation. We don't want world war 3 at our feet."
As it turned out, they were a bit late when it came to stopping the accusations flying. Some people had accepted their notes for what they were, others clearly enjoyed conspiracies.
"Camera phone time," Johnny decided instantly and pulled out his Blackberry.
There was only one way to prove what was actually going on and that was with photographic evidence. Evan looked a little startled when Johnny threw an arm around his shoulders, but smiled and waved at the camera when he took the picture. The first one was hideous, so they did it again, and that one was okay, so he uploaded it.
"Sometimes life gives you a chance to remember you were once friends," he typed, then posted the picture to Twitter.
He hoped it was sufficiently deep to make people actually stop and think, but not too deep to sound pretentious.
"There," he said, showing it to Evan, "that should give them something to talk about."
"You do realise half of them will have us sleeping together in under ten minutes," Evan commented, but he was smiling at the time.
"Yes well," he replied, feeling like being up front about everything just to see, "we can do that later if you like, but right now I know you have a Playstation or an Xbox around here somewhere. I feel like some competition."
The one thing Johnny noted before Evan climbed off the sofa to open a small cabinet was Evan never disagreed.
End of Ch 3
On to Ch 4