Осторожно! Слэш! :-1

та-даааам.... не идет(((((

долго втыкала, пока не поняла, что я живу в беларуси..)))))
-------------
lol

а, вот есть несколько открытых))
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EYZdZ7t4Lw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-c444w23-10

ну в общем да, это так, на ночь, поэстетствовать :D

бляяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяяя...........
надяяяяяяяяяяяяяяя....................................................

мне затвра для детей экскурсию проводить................................

не магуууууууууууу..................................................

Жень, ну ты вот будто первый день в группе! Ну ведь знала же, знаааалаааа, что там тебя ждет! и все равно шаловливые пальчики нажали на кнопчку, да? я вот уже догадываюсь потому решила утром посмотреть)

так, а теперь немного по теме))
для тех, кто может читать по-английски)
http://community.livejournal.com/ice_slash/238579.html
я просто РЫДАЮ над этим фиком!)

у меня закрыт доступ к записи(

просто вступи в сообщество)

*пошла вступать*

не пожалеешь)))
хотя а может я просто скину текст сюда?..)))

автор: perculious
Title: You Wanna Be On Top?
Rating: PG
Pairings: Drew Meekins/just about everybody, past Drew/Johnny and Drew/Jeremy
Summary: Written for this kinkmeme prompt: I was reading old Aunt Joyce posts the other day and I ran across this: "Drew is known in the skating world as having a 'golden penis' as he always has a way of finding guys to date who become National Champions." So now I totally want fic about all the US skaters (guys, girls, everyone) trying to get in Meekins' pants in hopes that his dick will magically grant them success at Nationals.

Originally posted here - http://wintergameskink.livejournal.com/3425.html?thr...

The calls didn't start right away. For about the first week after he and Jeremy broke up, people respectfully kept their distance. Which Drew appreciated, it hadn't been a bad break-up really, but not exactly pleasant.

Then on Friday, his phone rang. It was Ryan Bradley.

"Hey, Drew!" Ryan said, sounding very casual and nonchalant. "Do you have any weekend plans?"

"Um, I don't think so," Drew said. "Unless you know of any great female pairs skaters with no partners."

"Haha!" Ryan said. "That's so funny! You're so funny, Drew. We should hang out more! You have pretty eyes."

Drew frowned. "What?"

"Do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow night? Or tonight? We could skip dinner. I could come over there. I could cook dinner for you!"

"Ryan." Drew sat down on his bed, feeling very confused. "What's going on?"

There was a pause, and then Ryan said, "If I tell you, do you think you could sleep with me? It wouldn't have to mean anything. Or last very long. It could just be for like ten minutes, even."

"Ryan."

"Okay," Ryan said, sighing. "Look, people are starting to talk."

"About what?"

"Well." Ryan sounded uncomfortable. "You know, I was sad to hear about you and Jeremy."

"Right," Drew said cautiously.

"But before you dated him, Jeremy was placing fourth at Nats. And then when you guys got together, he won."

"He got better at skating," Drew said.

"Mmm," Ryan said, sounding unconvinced. "And Johnny Weir won Nats three times when you guys were together."

"Yeah, he was really at the top of his game back then," Drew said.

"Okay," Ryan said. "Whatever you say."

"Why, what do you think—" Drew broke off. "Wait, are you saying I'm the common denominator?"

"All I'm saying," Ryan said, "is that Johnny Weir and Jeremy Abbott are both skaters who are very good, but not always consistent. And you had some sort of, like, magical influence over them. You made them great." Ryan paused. "With your penis."

"With my—Maybe they just did well because they were happy and in nice relationships," Drew said.

There was a pause as Ryan considered this. Then he said, "I mean, it could be that. Or it could be that your penis is magic. So can I cook you dinner?"

"No." Drew hung up.

*

He didn't think about it again until Brandon Mroz showed up at his rink after a training session. Drew noticed him a few minutes before he was done training, standing around the boards and looking nervous.

When Drew stepped off the ice, Brandon immediately brightened and waved at him, his hand moving so fast it blurred.

"Um, hey," Drew said, confused. "What's up?"

"It's so weird that I would run into you here!" Brandon said, talking just slightly too loud. "

"At... my practice?"

"Yeah, crazy!" Brandon said, laughing brightly. "I was just... walking through this ice rink, and I thought I'd come say hi! Because we're so close."

"Are we?" Drew liked Brandon well enough, but he wouldn't exactly say they were best friends.

"I don't know, I've always felt like we had this weird connection," Brandon enthused. "Like, on a deeper level. What are you doing tonight?"

"Going home," Drew said slowly. This was definitely weird. "What are you doing?"

"That sounds like fun, can I?" Brandon said, giving Drew some kind of look that clearly was supposed to mean something, although Drew wasn't sure what.

"Can you... go home?"

"With you." Brandon was looking at him all hopeful and nervous and—wait, was the weird look supposed to be sexy? Oh God.

"Is this about winning Nationals?" Drew said in a quiet voice, his stomach dropping.

"What? No!" Brandon said, his nervous smile slipping just enough for Drew to be sure. "Not at all!"

"You know my penis isn't magic, right," Drew said carefully. "There's no such thing as a magic penis."

"Of course there isn't," Brandon said, snorting and making a face like Drew was being completely crazy. "That would be ridiculous. Penises aren't magic." He cleared his throat, coughed a little and then said, "But, um, if you could just... let me touch it? Ryan said it glows in the right light."

"Ryan wouldn't know, would he," Drew said, crossing his arms.

"He said you turned him down, but that you seemed receptive."

"I'm not receptive," Drew said. "No one is going to get a ride to Nationals on my penis. I just got out of a relationship, for God's sake."

"And you need some rebound sex!" Brandon said, lighting up.

"I'm going home."

*

Drew had pushed the incident out of his mind by the time Sarah called him on Skype a few hours later. He was eating a sandwich, but he moved the laptop onto the table and settled in.

Sarah talked to him a bit about her current illustration project, and Drew told her about how his training was going and how he was going to just pick some girl off the street and train her up if he couldn't find someone soon, and then Sarah said, "Oh, hey, question."

"Yeah?" Drew took another bite of his sandwich.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about you and Evan?"

Drew choked.

A lot of coughing and a couple sips of water later, he said, "Excuse me?"

"Well, you know," Sarah said. "There was Johnny, and Jeremy, and I know all about them. So I'm wondering why you never told me about you and Evan, since you've told me practically everything else in your life."

"What about Evan?" Drew said.

"Well, he won Nationals last year," Sarah said.

"Oh God, not you too," Drew groaned. Figure skating was way too small of a world sometimes.

"So how did you manage the tie? Was it a threesome where you just paid, like, slightly more attention to Evan? That must have been pretty awkward."

"I didn't sleep with Evan!" Drew said. "I would never stoop that low, what do you even think of me?"

"But then how did he win Nationals?" Sarah said, looking confused. Drew ended the call. He would apologize later, of course, but for now he needed some alone time.

*

It only got worse. Drew's phone started ringing all the time. At first he was picking it up, curious about the unknown numbers.

"You come to France?" Joubert asked, very enthusiastically. "You will come to France, to my bed?"

"I don't think I can afford that," Drew said.

"I will pay!" Joubert said. "France is very beautiful, you will like it!"

Drew finally managed to convince him that wasn't happening, only to get sucked into a similar conversation an hour or two later with Patrick Chan.

"Dude, come on," Patrick said. "Colorado isn't that far from Canada. I'll come to you. Let's just do it."

And then a few hours after that, it was Frank Carroll.

"Please," Drew said in horror, "please, please don't tell me you're thinking of trying to qualify for Nationals."

"No, no," Frank said, laughing. Okay, maybe everyone hadn't gone crazy. Maybe this was just an innocent phone call.

"I was just wondering if you'd ever considered switching teams," Frank said casually. "Mirai is a very pretty girl."

After that, Drew stopped answering his phone.

A few days later, though, he had to pick up just to make sure his phone wasn't malfunctioning.

"Evan?"

"Hello, Drew," Evan said woodenly, as if he was reading off a script. "I would like to—oh no, wait. Um. How are you?"

"Fine," Drew said warily. "How are you?"

"Good!" Evan said, sounding pleased that the conversation was going so well thus far. "Okay. I would like to proposition you."

"No," Drew said, putting his palm to his forehead. "Oh, Evan. No."

"I know that in the past I have dated lots of extremely hot women," Evan ploughed forward. "I mean, extremely hot. Have you even seen Tanith? She's like—"

"I already said no," Drew tried, without much hope.

"Anyway, despite the fact that unbelievably hot women find me irresistible, I still find myself drawn to you. For totally unknown reasons. It's confusing," Evan monotoned. "I think I'm having some sort of sexuality crisis. That you might need to comfort me about."

"No, no, no," Drew said, and then just for the record, "No. Did Frank put you up to this?"

There was a long pause, and then Evan muttered, "He actually told me not to. I just really, really want—"

"To win more gold medals, I know," Drew said. "I'll try to, like... send good thoughts your way, okay?"

"That sounds cool," Evan said, sounding a little cheered. "Hang on, wait, could you, like, sexually fantasize about me? Maybe? That could help."

"I'll do my best," Drew said graciously.

"I could send you some sexy pictures if you want—"

"No."

"Seriously, I'm a male model, you know—"

"Goodbye, Evan," Drew said firmly.

*

After a week or two, the phone calls seemed to settle down. Drew figured that people had figured out he wasn't going to say yes to anyone, so they weren't bothering to ask anymore. His life continued as normal, except for once when he bumped into Ryan Bradley and Ryan told him his eyes were like beautiful pools of profound depth, which didn't even make any sense.

And then there was one day when he got off the ice after a training session, and there, leaning against the wall in a tight jacket and designer sunglasses, was Johnny Weir.

"Um, hi?" Drew said. It wouldn't have been that weird if Johnny had just called or something, they were friends now and all, but the last time Johnny had showed up at his rink with no warning was in like 2005, when Johnny thought it was romantic and Drew thought it was really nice in theory but kind of inconvenient in practice because he had plans and all. And then Johnny would get mad and Drew would get exasperated and it would all end eventually in apologies and soft kissing and touching each other's hair and seriously, what was Johnny doing here?

"Hey," Johnny said, pushing down his sunglasses and looking at Drew over the top. He was always great at drama. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Drew said. "I'm just—I have to go home, I have dinner reservations and I have to change."

"It'll just be like five minutes, I'll come with you," Johnny said, pushing himself away from the wall and taking a step forward.

The car ride was awkwardly silent. Drew was usually pretty good at small talk, but all he could think of to say was stuff like "How was your flight?" and "What have you been up to?" and all of that seemed secondary to "Why are you here?" And Johnny seemed like he didn't want to answer that one yet, so Drew left it alone.

He felt a little self-conscious when he unlocked the door to his apartment, but it wasn't like Johnny didn't know his place could be kind of a mess. And yeah, Johnny pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and Drew thought he could see this weird glint in the way he was glancing around, like he was just dying to dust the undersides of all Drew's shelves or whatever else Johnny used to do before he could relax in Drew's apartment.

"Do you want something to drink? Some water or something?" Drew said. Johnny shook his head slightly. "Okay. Um. You can sit down."

"Sure." Johnny headed over to the sofa and sat. Drew sat in a chair across from him, and waited.

"Okay, so. I'm sorry for showing up unexpectedly," Johnny began. So clearly Johnny also remembered the fights that ended in kissing and hair-touching. Great.

"It's okay."

"I heard you and Jeremy broke up." It would usually be a pretty innocuous statement, but coming after Johnny apparently flew from New Jersey to Colorado to hang out in Drew's apartment for five minutes, it seemed kind of loaded.

"Yeah," Drew said.

"It was kind of weird for me," Johnny said, one hand idly toying with his necklace. "When you started dating Jeremy. I know we've been friends for a while now, and I'm really glad we are, but it was still... weird. I don't know."

Drew wasn't quite sure what to say. It had been years since he last felt this kind of tension being in a room with Johnny. He'd figured he had all of that pretty well buried, and he usually did, but now Johnny was here all saying things and his hair looked really nice right now.

"So you came here," he said. "Just spontaneously?"

"Yeah, I guess. I had some time off and I just... wanted to see you, I don't know, now that I'm here it seems stupid."

Drew tried to read Johnny's expression, but Johnny just looked kind of uncomfortable. Then he looked back up at Drew, and slowly leaned forward. And then Johnny was kissing him, holy shit, and it felt so fucking familiar. It was bringing back all these weird memories Drew had completely forgotten about, like how much he used to miss Johnny every fucking second they weren't together, and how sometimes when Johnny walked in the door he would be so excited to see Drew he would have sex with him before doing all the weird dusting and vacuuming stuff that made him comfortable. And how nice that was, sex with Johnny, how safe and comfortable it felt, and the way Johnny's voice would get afterwards, all soft and affectionate like the way it was when Drew forgot about time zones and called him too late at night and Johnny almost fell asleep on the phone.

But there was other stuff he couldn't forget about, long drawn-out discussions and confrontations and fights, so Drew pulled back. "Hang on, Johnny, you know we definitely can't get back together, right? All that stuff we said, about how the distance thing was too hard and we both needed to move on with our lives, it's all still true."

Johnny sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Drew's. "I know," he said. "I'm not asking for anything here, Drew. I don't want any sort of commitment. I just want one night."

Something about the way he phrased it made a horrible, horrible thought uncurl in the back of Drew's mind. No way. No freaking way. But now he had to ask.

"Johnny," Drew said, his pulse suddenly racing. "This... okay, I'm sure I don't even need to say this, but... this isn't about winning Nats, right?"

Johnny hesitated for just a second too long. "It's not entirely about—"

"Oh my God!" Drew pushed him away and stood quickly. "I can't believe you!"

"I've lost twice now!" Johnny said plaintively. "Twice, Drew!"

"You were trying to emotionally manipulate me into sexing you to greatness!" Drew said, feeling slightly hysterical. "Oh my God, you're as bad as Lysacek."

"You fucking take that back!" Johnny said, jumping to his feet.

"You flew here to Colorado," Drew said, "to trick me into sleeping with you. Holy shit, Johnny. This is insane."

"It wasn't a trick! I just thought that, you know, our past history might give me an edge."

"You guys know that sleeping with me isn't the U.S. Championships, right?" Drew said. "There is still an actual competition!"

"Come on, Drew," Johnny said, rolling his eyes. "You like having sex with me!"

Drew couldn't argue with that, but it was hardly the point. "Get out," he said. "And you can tell everyone, everyone, that I am not sleeping with anyone from now until Nationals. Not a single person. Whoever wins Nationals will have to do it without my penile assistance."

"Fine," Johnny said, flipping his sunglasses back down over his eyes. "Be that way."

"I will!" Drew said as Johnny walked out.

*

Drew returned from dinner with the beginnings of a headache and a garbled apology from Johnny on his voicemail. Johnny was saying something about making it up to Drew by letting him drape fur over his half-naked body, which suggested that Johnny still didn't quite understand the thing where Drew wasn't going to sleep with him, but whatever.

Drew went into his bedroom, flopped down on his bed and called Sarah.

"What's up, honey?" she said.

"Sarah," he groaned. "Everyone wants to sleep with me. Everyone."

There was a pause. "Is this a problem?"

"They only want me for my magical penis," Drew said, pulling a face. "I'm surprised Jeremy isn't at the door demanding we get back together right now so he doesn't lose his title."

At this, Drew's phone beeped. He checked it. Text message from Jeremy Abbott.

"Well, why are you complaining to me?" Sarah said. "Get out there and make someone a national champion!"

"But I don't want to sleep with someone who's only interested in winning a medal," Drew said.

"You are looking at this completely the wrong way."

Drew rolled over onto his back. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're all, oh no, everyone wants to use my powers to their advantage. But really, you should be using your powers to your advantage. You get to choose who wins Nats, Drew!"

"Sarah," Drew said, covering his face with one hand. "For the last time, my penis isn't actually magic. It's just a coincidence."

"Okaaay, whatever you say," Sarah said, in a voice like she thought they were sharing some sort of secret.

"No, for real."

"Riiight."

Drew rolled his eyes. This was not helping. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sure. Let me know when you've decided who the next U.S. champion is, I want to sound knowledgeable by predicting it early."

*

Over the next few months, Drew's life slowly returned to normal. After he turned down Johnny, people seemed to realize that he was serious about staying celibate. And actually, that part kind of sucked, but it was worth it to stop people from fawning over him all the time. He almost broke down once and went as far as agreeing to go to a hotel with some guy he met in a club, but on the way there the guy mentioned shyly that he had an amateur interest in figure skating and Drew almost fell on his face trying to run away.

And then Nationals came. And Jeremy won.

Drew muted the TV while they were still showing Jeremy cheering and smiling.

Jeremy was the last person he'd slept with. Holy shit.

He glanced down at his crotch, half-expecting to see it twinkling or something, but it was just like it normally was. Except it wasn't.

Okay, Jeremy was a good skater, though. It was still probably just a coincidence. But still...

Drew picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Hey, Adam? I know, fifth place, I'm sorry, man. Do you want to grab dinner some time?"

Vielen Dank!))

не знаю, остался ли тут хоть один человек, которого интересует это, но все же выложу...

глава не полностью пока...

ГЛАВА 9. «Я мстю, и мстя моя страшна»

POV Johnny

Легкий поцелуй в висок. Потом еще один. И еще. Сначала мне показалось, что это сон. Но после еще нескольких поцелуев, теперь уже в шею, я понял, что это происходит наяву.
Я открыл глаза и огляделся, пытаясь осознать, где нахожусь. Оказывается, я все еще на подоконнике. Точнее, не я, а мы, с Брайаном. Только сидел я, кажется, на другой стороне подоконника… Сейчас же я обнаружил себя в объятьях Брая, покрывающего мою шею невесомыми, теплыми и уже такими родными поцелуями… Эм… Значит, мы спали на подоконнике?..
- А говорил, что заснуть для тебя большая проблема… - слегка улыбнувшись, произнес Брай, когда заметил, что я проснулся.
- Ну… обычно это так… Но, я даже не помню момента, когда я заснул… - растеряно пробубнил я.
- Честно говоря, этот момент я тоже не запомнил, да и не старался особо. Разве это важно?
- Конечно, нет, - я откинул голову Браю на плечо и уткнулся носом ему в шею, - теперь ты будешь моим личным снотворным.
Жубер усмехнулся и потрепал меня по волосам.
- Ладно, надо идти завтракать, - я в ответ согласно кивнул, и мы начали процесс «слезания» с нашей импровизированной «постели»…
Нет, больше я на подоконнике точно спать не буду. Несмотря на все тепло и нежность Брайана, неудобная поза и твердая поверхность взяли свое. Тело ныло так, как будто я всю ночь вагоны разгружал. Да и, судя по выражению лица Брая, он примерно в таком же состоянии и тоже уже пообещал себе спать только на кровати. Ну на полу, в крайнем случае.

Душ мы приняли вместе. Правда мне стоило огромных усилий заставить себя не приставать к Брайану со всякими непристойностями, но я все же одержал над собой верх. Поэтому через полчаса мы, уже «при параде» спустились в кафе. За столиками еще (или уже) почти никого не было. Единственное знакомое лицо, которое я заметил, принадлежало Дайсу. Я смотрел на него буквально долю секунды, но он все равно ощутил мой взгляд и посмотрел мне прямо в глаза. Черт, как-то нехорошо он смотрит… похотливо что ли… Тут же вспомнилось, как он ущипнул меня, Стефана, за задницу пару дней назад. Я мысленно передернулся и продолжил свой путь вслед за Брайаном к одному из дальних столиков.
Сев лицом к входу в кафе, я снова невольно посмотрел на Такахаси. Он все еще пожирал меня взглядом. Точнее, не меня, я Стефана…
Вспомнился Стеф, и наша вчерашняя перепалка в туалете. Снова стало больно. Значит, со стороны я выгляжу бездушным гадом все-таки?.. Потом я вспомнил историю «любви» Стефана с Браем, и начал злиться. Почему это я занимаюсь самокопанием? По сравнению с Ламбьелем, я просто ангел во плоти. По крайней мере, я не лгал Эвану, а сказал все, как есть. И он сам пошел на это…
Нет, меня определенно выводит из равновесия Дайс… Он что, добивается, чтобы я запустил в него тарелкой со своим завтраком? Хотя, он, скорее, добивается совершенно иного эффекта, но мне что-то не улыбается подставлять ему свою задницу, во всех смыслах, и уж тем более в буквальном.
А впрочем…. Это ведь не моя задница, и все остальное тоже не мое… Кроме того, у меня появилось дикое желание сделать Ламбьелю какую-нибудь пакость после вчерашнего… Это ли не вариант?..
Следующие 10 минут я молча ковырял вилкой в тарелке, обдумывая, как я буду вершить свою извращенную мстю.

POV Stephane

К сожалению, должен констатировать гнусный факт, что двух часов сна недостаточно, чтобы восстановить силы. Особенно после того эмоционального стресса, который я перенес вчера вечером и сегодня ночью. К мерзкому душевному состоянию добавилось еще «феерическое» физическое состояние. Хотелось только одного – повеситься. Но сначала – извиниться перед Джонни.
Стоп. А что я ему скажу? «Знаешь, Джонни, я вчера случайно прочитал твой дневник, поэтому прости меня за то, что я наговорил тебе столько гадостей?» Это полный дурдом. Может, я и добьюсь прощения за вчерашние свои слова, зато отгребу за то, что прочитал дневник. А если не извинюсь – буду чувствовать себя подонком до конца своих дней. А если «всплывет» правда о моем ночном чтиве, конец моих дней наступит гораздо быстрее, чем я ожидаю… Дилемма…
Эван глубоко вздохнул и что-то пробормотал во сне. Я немного отвлекся от своих невеселых размышлений и посмотрел на него. Сейчас он полностью умиротворен и расслаблен… Хочу его.
Я надеюсь, Лайс не убьет меня за то, что я собираюсь делать, но мысли о возможных последствиях улетучиваются из моей головы по мере того, как я сбрасываю на пол одеяло, провожу кончиками пальцев по красивому торсу, едва ощутимо целую Эвана в шею, попутно стягивая с него белье. Забавно, спит, как и спал. Но это поправимо…
Прикасаюсь губами к подтянутому животу, Эван слегка улыбается во сне. Выглядит довольно мило…

- Эм… Что ты делаешь?.. – сонно и растеряно спрашивает Лайс, глядя на меня затуманенным взглядом.
- Просто расслабься и получай удовольствие, - улыбаюсь в ответ я.
- Ламбьель, ты же не…. Черт…. - «опротестовать» мои действия Лайс был уже не в состоянии.

******

- Я тебя убью… - отрешенно произнес Эван, выкуривая третью сигарету за последние 20 минут. Очень «мило», особенно учитывая тот факт, что вообще-то он не курит. – Ты лишил меня последней девственности, которая у меня была.
Я подавился минералкой, которую в данный момент пил.
- Ну когда-то это бы все равно случилось, так что смирись с этим. Или тебе не понравилось? – я поднял бровь и посмотрел на Лайса в ожидании ответа.
- Понравилось, черт возьми…
- Неужели я это вижу? Ты краснеешь?
- Ничего подобного! – Эван от возмущения подавился дымом, затем потушил недокуренную сигарету мимо пепельницы о тумбочку. – Ничего я не краснею!
- Да ладно, мне-то зачем врать? – я аккуратно обнял Эвана за талию. – Тебе что, неприятно осознавать то, что произошло между нами?
- Мне непривычно осознавать то, что меня поимели. - Я расхохотался. – Что смешного?
- Ничего, просто ты очень забавный, - я поцеловал Лайса в кончик носа. – Привыкай, это не последний раз, я тебя уверяю, - и я посмотрел на него своим фирменным взглядом маньяка.

POV Johnny

- Все тело ноет… Надо было все-таки на кровати спать, - недовольно пробубнил Брайан, потирая шею.
Я молча киваю в знак согласия, хотя я все еще погружен в свои мысли. Перевожу взгляд на Дайса. Странно, что он до сих пор не ушел… Неужели меня ждет? Что ж, мне это только на руку.
- Слушай, я хочу принять ванну, может, хоть немного расслаблюсь, и мышцы болеть перестанут, - я поднимаюсь со своего места. – Встретимся позже, хорошо?
- Хорошо, - Брайан улыбается. Так, что сердце делает в груди сальто. И я начинаю сомневаться, стоит ли воплощать свою задумку в реальность…
Но я привык идти до конца, я же Джонни Вейр, черт подери.
Иду к выходу из кафе. Дыши, Джонни, в конце концов, ничего особо страшного не произойдет. Да, я просто перепихнусь с Дайсуке Такахаси в шкуре Стефана Ламбьеля, сущая ерунда.
Вопрос только в том, как расценит это Брай… Но уже некогда об этом думать.
Проходя мимо столика, за которым сидит Дайс, я взглядом показываю ему идти за мной. Такахаси похотливо улыбается и едва заметно кивает. Теперь пути назад нет.

мстительная Детка.....)))))))
Elektra Insain , спасибо за продолжение)

Electra, урааааа, дождались))) Спасибо за проду, ждем еще))

Эль, спасибо!!!! надеюсь больше таких перерывов не будет:)

Ира, я тоже надеюсь=)