.

.

They walk back to the hotel room, neither one of them saying anything.

So much had happened between them in the last 24 hours: a kiss and cry, literally, since Victor had made Yuri cry his eyes out in the parking lot before throwing his arms around him and kissing him at the skating rink. Now they walk in step together and Yuri's fingers brush against his, and Victor has to stop and check himself. There is a giddy, nervous sort of energy as he slides his keycard through the reader; Yuri smiles, shyly. Victor blushes and fumbles to open the door.

He switches on a light. Behind him, Yuri crosses one arm across his chest and holds his elbow, nervously.

This is bad, Victor thinks, as he takes one step towards him. I'm his coach. I shouldn't do this. Quietly he stands close to Yuri and lets his hand brush the side of his face.

But it's Yuri who closes the gap between them, tilting his face upwards to kiss Victor gently on the lips. The movement is so graceful that Victor doesn't even notice it, not until Yuri's lips brush softly over his.

"Victor?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never done this before."

Victor dips low, drops a soft kiss against Yuri's neck. "Should we stop?" he asks, quietly. Yuri shakes his head.

"No," Yuri says, and his eyes flick upwards, meeting his. "But I'm afraid I might not be that good."

Yuri seems to brace himself, as if waiting for Victor's rejection, and Victor makes a mental note to work on Yuri's self-confidence. "That's okay," Victor says, smiling. He smiles into his skin. "I'll coach you."

Yuri laughs. "What?"

Victor grins and drops a kiss against his cheek. "I'll show you what to do."

He presses his hand against Yuri's hip, lets his thumb brush across the waistband of his pants suggestively.

Yuri's voice is breathy as Victor slowly starts unzipping the front of Yuri's tracksuit. "Will it hurt?" Yuri asks. His eyes flutter as Victor's lips find a tender spot along his collarbone.

"It burns the first few times," Victor says, honestly. "But it gets better with practice and using lots of lube."

Yuri's face reddens again, but Victor rests his hands on his shoulders, reassuringly. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," Victor says. Yuri swallows.

"You have lube?"

"And condoms."

"Why?" Yuri says. His eyes close as Victor smiles at him, dropping a kiss behind his ear.

"I have a lot of fans."

It's meant to be teasing, said with a light nip against the skin of Yuri's neck, but instead of laughing Yuri stiffens, and Victor has to check himself. Self-confidence. He kicks himself mentally, because Yuri's eyes are wide and wet and Victor can see the hurt starting to crowd out around the edges.

"Hey," Victor says. He takes Yuri's hands. "I got them for you, dummy."

"For me?" Yuri says.

Victor laughs, shaking his head. "I got them last night, after your triumph at the short program," Victor says. "Remember what you told me?"

Yuri furrows his brow, then reddens. He shyly meets Victor's eyes.

"Don't ever take your eyes off me," Yuri says, quietly.

"That's right," Victor says, and he lifts Yuri's hand to kiss his knuckles. "You seduced me," Victor says. He splays Yuri's hand outward, so that Yuri's palm is resting flush against his cheek. "You're not the only one who couldn't sleep," Victor says, softly. "I would have kissed you in the carpark if you didn't yell at me."

"You were the one who said you would leave," Yuri says.

"I was trying to be motivating," Victor says, and he feels Yuri's hands shyly sliding around his waist. "I'm sorry," Victor says. "Forgive me?"

Yuri sniffs and smiles, dropping his head against Victor's shoulder. "Yeah."

"Good." His lips curve into a smile against Yuri's forehead.

They stay like that a moment, Victor propping up Yuri's weight as the other man leans against him. He can feel the muscles of Yuri's back beneath the fabric of his jersey, and quietly Victor lets his hands rest on Yuri's shoulders, which are sloped and narrow but still unmistakably masculine. Quietly he cups the rounded muscle of Yuri's bicep, kneading his thumb along the tender divot where muscle meets bone, when Yuri pulls up again, smiling shyly.

Carefully, Victor walks Yuri backward toward the bed, his hands resting on Yuri's waist as he gently guides him across the room. Yuri backs up into the bed and Victor takes that as a cue to bend forward, mouthing the side of Yuri's neck while quietly sliding off the sides of Yuri's jersey.

"Ano-" Yuri sighs, the speech filler in Japanese exhaled softly against Victor's skin. "Ano. Victor-"

"Yes?"

"Why are you with me?"

Victor stops. Yuri is now half-lying back on the bed, wide brown eyes searching his, questioningly. "Why?" Victor echoes. Yuri nods, blushing but still nervous.

"You could have anyone," Yuri says, and Victor lies on his stomach next to him, propping himself on his elbows and brushing back a dark strand of hair as Yuri turns to look at him. "Why me?"

Victor grins at him. "Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"No, just-"

Victor dips down, lets his lips brush against Yuri's. "Because you're the only man I know who'd try to seduce me by pretending to be a pork cutlet bowl."

Yuri's blush deepens. "I-"

"Because-" Victor shifts his body so that he's leaning on top of him, "You gain weight so easily and you have to work really hard to take it off."

His hand slips just beneath Yuri's shirt, caresses the teaspoon of skin that is exposed around his flank.

"Because you don't have many friends," Victor says, softly. He kisses Yuri's cheek. "Because you'd rather spend the night by yourself, alone, skating.

"Because you're shy," Victor says, and he drops a soft kiss at the side of Yuri's neck. "Because you're insecure and anxious."

Yuri exhales. "I-"

"Because," Victor says, and he looks deep in Yuri's eyes, "You're a lot like me."

The rims of Yuri's eyes darken, and Victor can see the layer of wetness threatening to spill over. "Victor..."

Victor takes his hand, pressing it against his heart. "I told you," Victor says. "I can be both your coach and your boyfriend. But," Victor grins at him, "If you just want to fool around and use me, that's okay too."

Yuri ducks his head and laughs, softly. "I don't want to just fool around."

"Well then we have our answer." Victor cups Yuri's hand between his palms, then brings his arm to up to kiss his knuckles.

"What if we break up?" Yuri sighs and closes his eyes as Victor begins to mouth the side of his jaw. "What if you don't want to be with me anymore?"

"Do you want to stop?" Victor asks. Yuri shakes his head.

"No."

They kiss. Quietly Victor takes off Yuri's glasses and sets them on the nightstand, letting his fingers slide up against Yuri's scalp. Yuri's mouth is soft and warm and pliant, and as Victor kisses him he feels Yuri smiling shyly against his lips.

"You kiss better than you skate," Victor says, smiling. "And your skating is phenomenal."

Yuri blushes and smiles. "Stop teasing me."

"I'm not kidding. You're a natural."

He gently leans Yuri back onto the bed, resting his weight on his elbows as his lower body rests between Yuri's legs. Yuri sighs, and Victor gently lets his hand caress Yuri's stomach. His stomach is tight and lightly muscled, and there is a slight sheen of sweat that's starting to form at Yuri's navel.

Victor skims his hands upward, pushing up Yuri's shirt so he can get a better look at Yuri's chest. His skin is warm and the muscles of his chest are broad and firm, and though with his clothes on Yuri looks deceptively slender and lithe, Victor can see the workings of an athlete's body. He grins and kisses the line of Yuri's stomach appreciatively, before reaching down to rub Yuri through the fabric.

Yuri gasps. He squirms and Victor grins at him, feeling Yuri grow thick and solid. Yuri gasps again and he feels Yuri's penis twitch, and Victor smirks as Yuri pushes his hips upward on instinct, thrusting a little into Victor's hand.

Outside, the lights of Beijing dot the nighttime landscape, an electric grid of yellow lights winking against the inky darkness. The blinds to the window are open, and the pane of glass shows their reflections like a mirror: Yuri splayed on the bed, red-faced and gasping, with his shirt bunched up under his arms and his erection tenting his pants, while Victor presses worshipful kisses along Yuri's stomach and chest, fully clothed and methodically stroking him. Yuri is breathing hard, drinking the air with ragged breaths, when Victor nudges his nose against Yuri's hip, before closing his mouth over the fabric of Yuri's pants.

Yuri's eyes pop open. "Wait!"

Victor jerks up. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't washed!"

"What?"

Yuri's words tumble out, his English growing more frantic and accented. "I haven't done my kokoro no junbi, I'm not mentally prepared! And I haven't had a shower, and you haven't had a shower, and-"

"You showered at the locker room," Victor says, bewildered. Yuri shakes his head rapidly.

"No no no, but we took the public transit. We rode together on the train!"

"Huh?"

Yuri sits up, clasping Victor's hands. "In Japan, we shower before...before we are intimate. It's for cleanliness. It's personal hygiene."

"You know I don't care, right?" Victor says. Yuri shakes his head.

"Your face was near my private place. And-"

Victor bursts out laughing.

"What?" Yuri says. He looks more hurt than confused.

"You really are my adorable pork cutlet," Victor says, wrapping his arms around him. Yuri's ears turn pink as Victor hugs him. "Let me help you change."

Yuri laughs against Victor's shoulder as Victor pulls off Yuri's shirt, pulling him to a stand and tossing the shirt onto the floor. He palms his hands against Yuri's bare shoulders and leans in to kiss him again, lips curving into a smile as he leads Yuri to the bathroom as if he were pair-skating with him there, one hand on the small of Yuri's back for balance, the other one groping toward the wall for the light. Fingers fumble for the switch and Victor flicks it on quickly, nearly losing his balance on the cool bathroom tile before sitting heavily on the toilet, Yuri kissing him breathless and leaning against him.

"So how do you know about the shower thing if you've never done this?" Victor kisses Yuri's neck and reaching an arm to turn on the shower.

"I don't know. Everyone does it. I mean, I've always read about it, and-"

"Never experienced it yourself?" Victor teases.

Yuri blushes, and god he looks amazing, all tousled hair and soft brown eyes and lips swollen and red with kisses. "I mean, there were a few times," Yuri says, blushing.

Victor laughs. "Oh?"

"But we never made it this far, I mean. Usually they find out I'm boring, and-"

Victor slides his arms warmly around Yuri's waist. "You're not boring," Victor says, beaming at him. Yuri smiles and ducks his head. Victor smooths his hair, fondly.

They kiss again. Fortunately the shower seems big enough for the both of them and Victor pushes down Yuri's pants, grinning broadly at the surprising thatch of dark hair around his penis and the firm, mushroom-shaped head of his cock springing out from his waistband. Without thinking, Victor dips forward, mouthing the tip while Yuri moans and trembles, backing into the shower. "Victor," Yuri gasps. "Victor, I'm not washed!"

"Sorry," Victor says, and he pulls off the rest of his clothes and pushes him into the shower, the spray of hot water hitting them both.

Yuri wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to shower, and though Victor was hellbent on turning it into kinky foreplay Yuri staunchly refused to let him do anything except wash him. Yuri stood close, lathering up the soap and shyly running his hands along Victor's body, while Victor grinned and responded in kind, smoothing his soapy hands down Yuri's wet skin and slopping over over Yuri's penis, which has thickened and lengthened and grown heavy with prolonged arousal.

They stumble back into the bedroom, wet and naked and fumbling with a towel. "Better?" Yuri says. He's combed his hair back the way he wore it when he skated as Eros, and for a moment Victor can almost picture the skin-tight black body suit stretching over Yuri's body.

"I like this better," Victor says, and he musses Yuri's hair back into that familiar black mop, wet bangs falling over Yuri's forehead. He takes Yuri's glasses and hands it to him, spinning him around toward the mirror to look at their reflection.

"See that?" Victor says, standing behind him. He wraps his arms around Yuri's shoulders and leans into Yuri's back, pointing at their reflection. "This is what I think is sexy."

Yuri's eyes widen a little, and Victor knows what he sees: dork glasses and mousy hair, shirtless and blushing furiously as Victor leans his body against him. Victor smiles and presses a chaste kiss against Yuri's cheek, rubbing the tips of his fingers along Yuri's sternum affectionately.

"Are you mentally prepared yet?" Victor asks, teasingly. Yuri blushes and nods before Victor plucks off his glasses and sets them on the nightstand.

They lie back on the bed, kissing and hugging. Victor's hands slide around Yuri's body, marveling a little at how warm and solid he feels. His hands follow the line of Yuri's back and buttocks, which are firm and muscled from all that training, and he rolls Yuri back and leans down to mouth Yuri's cock, which throbs and twitches from the sensation.

Yuri moans. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open and slack, and that pink blush of his darkens across his cheeks.

"Does this feel good?" Victor asks, smiling. He slicks his hand down Yuri's shaft, which is wet and glistening from his saliva. Yuri sighs and nods in the affirmative, and Victor takes that as a cue to take Yuri's cock into his mouth again, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue along the tip of his erection.

Yuri breathes. "Um. Victor." His voice is breathy. His cock jerks and his hips push upwards, straining, the muscles of his thighs and stomach rippling with effort. "Victor, wait. I'm gonna-"

Victor pulls up, grinning. "You want me to stop?"

"Wha- no! I-" Yuri's face goes up in flames.

Victor has never seen Yuri look so helpless. His face is bright red and his hair is damp with sweat, and his cock is not just hard, it's stiff and leaking, a bead of cloudy fluid welling at the tip.

Victor grins, then lowers himself down again, tracing his tongue along the muscled ridge below his glans, before delicately slurping around the head. Yuri cries out, looking as if he wants nothing more than to thrust hard into Victor's mouth, and Victor takes a touch of pride in this, how he was able to turn that shy Agape into Eros incarnate, moaning and writhing beneath him.

"Victor." Yuri exhales, voice breathy and tight. "Victor, let me...let me...wait."

"What is it?"

"Let me kiss you," Yuri says, breathlessly. Victor flows up Yuri's body and rests on his elbows, smiling at him. Yuri looks up at him, wonderingly. His brown eyes are wide and searching his.

They kiss hard, Victor exhaling through his nose and mouthing Yuri's tongue, until Yuri's breathing grows desperate and ragged. It isn't until Victor lowers his hand, giving Yuri one firm stroke upwards, that Yuri gasps and grinds up into him. "Victor-"

"You wanna use the condoms?" Victor asks. He strokes Yuri carefully, searching his eyes.

"Um." Yuri licks his lips. His face is flushed and his skin is damp with sweat and arousal. "What about you?"

"It feels good either way," Victor says. He takes both their cocks in his hand and strokes hard, making Yuri whine and push his hips into Victor's hand.

Yuri looks unsure for a moment. He furrows his brow, then nods. "Okay."

Victor laughs. "Okay."

"Okay," Yuri says again, and laughs nervously, a little giddy at his decision.

Victor leans across him, stretching an arm across Yuri's chest to fumble at the pack of condoms he had stashed in the dresser drawer. He tears off the foil and holds out the latex ring, pausing to position it over Yuri's cock and roll it downwards. He unscrews the little cap of lube, pouring a little in his hand.

"Um, Victor?"

"Yeah?" Victor is concentrating on stroking Yuri's penis with the slippery liquid.

"I haven't done this before," Yuri says.

"You told me that already."

"But what if I hurt you?" Yuri says, and he looks so adorably concerned that Victor feels bad for wanting to laugh. He takes Yuri's hand and kisses his knuckles, stroking his thumb against Yuri's palm.

"You won't hurt me," Victor says. Yuri smiles again, and both of them realize that Victor's hand is still dripping with lube.

"Oops," Victor says, grinning, and Yuri laughs, wiping his hand against his thigh and rising on his knees behind Victor's flank. Victor sinks his fists onto the mattress and backs up into him, his knees pushing into the sheets as he positions himself for Yuri's entrance. Behind him, he feels Yuri fumbling a bit, swiping the head of his penis up and down until Victor reaches a hand to help spread himself, guiding Yuri inside. He hears Yuri suck in his breath, and he feels that glorious slow stretching as Yuri pushes into him, slowly.

"A-are you okay? Am I doing this right?"

"Yeah, you're fine."

"Are you sure?"

Victor laughs, dropping his head against the mattress. "Yes," Victor says. He looks behind his shoulder, catching Yuri's eye. "Just get out of your head for once and enjoy the view."

Yuri makes that face of his - comically wide eyes, that neon blush that blazes out from nowhere - before nodding and gently beginning to thrust. Victor hangs his head, propping himself up on the mattress while Yuri's hands carefully circle his waist.

It takes a while, but Yuri seems to be getting into it. The bed rocks noisily as Yuri thrusts, panting softly and holding onto Victor's waist for balance. Finally he drops against Victor's back, holding him, one hot cheek plastered against Victor's skin.

He feels Yuri press a featherlight kiss against his spine before he rises and starts moving again, his palms resting flat against Victor's hips as he thrusts. Yuri's breathing deepens and he starts to thrust faster, his strokes fast and shallow but still scissoring against Victor's prostate, in and out. Victor moans as that tingling sensation begins to build, somewhere on the verge of pleasure and pain, until it's too much and he has to reach a hand down to touch himself, thumbing his erection as Yuri groans and hauls Victor's hips closer to him.

"Victor." Yuri's voice is tight. "Victor, daisuki," and he groans in Japanese, panting and slapping his hips behind him. "Daisuki dayo, Victor, Victor."

"English," Victor pants. He feels Yuri's fingers digging into his hip. "Yuri, speak in English!"

"I like Victor very much!"

Victor laughs, startled. "I was going to come," Victor laughs, "But you messed up my concentration."

"Sorry."

Victor ducks his head, his bangs swinging wildly in front of his face. "Are you close?" Victor asks. He can practically feel Yuri nod.

"Yeah."

Yuri's hands tighten around Victor's waist, pulling him closer, eager. "Victor," Yuri pants. His hips slap hard against Victor's back. "Victor. Victor-"

Yuri comes, and Victor can feel him shooting his load hot and thick inside him, before he drops heavily against Victor's back, the sweat of Yuri's skin sticking to him. Victor takes that moment to finish himself off, having been at the edge of his climax for awhile. He comes in thick, white stripes, spurting onto the bed before he drops onto his stomach, breathing hard from the exertion. Behind him, he feels Yuri pressing a shy kiss against his shoulder before nuzzling against his back, two sweaty arms reaching around him.

"How was it?" Victor asks, grinning. Yuri ducks his head and smiles shyly. "Good?"

"Yeah." Yuri smiles. "Very good."