.

.

The door to the hotel room bursts open as Viktor pushes Yuuri backwards, his mouth on Yuuri's neck while Yuuri squirms and laughs, tripping a little over dirty towels and shaggy carpet. The silver medal swings from Viktor's hand, which he's holding in a vice-grip behind Yuuri's neck. With each kiss the medal swings like a pendulum.

"Arms," Viktor says, and Yuuri lifts his arms, lets Viktor tug off his shirt in one smooth motion. "Pants," Viktor says, and Yuuri backs into the bed, smiling breathlessly as Viktor tugs off his track pants.

Viktor rears back, pulling off his suit jacket. He grins and throws his body forward, landing on top of Yuuri to kiss him again.

Outside, the other competitors are winding down after the competition. Janitors are taking down the signs outside of the rink, and the other competitors hole up in their rooms, either talking to their families on Skype or quietly going over the flaws in their performance. No one is celebrating the way Viktor and Yuuri are, a tangle of mouths and limbs and damp, flushed skin, the only sound the soft thudding of the headboard and heavy breathing, punctuated only occasionally with startled, breathy moans.

"Viktor?"

"Hm?"

Yuuri is on his side, shirtless and staring at the medal. The silver disc gleams a little in the yellow lamplight, and he feels Viktor pressing a light kiss on his shoulder. "I can't believe it," Yuuri says. "We did it."

"Not quite." Viktor shifts, the sheets bunching up as he moves to drape one muscled arm heavily across Yuuri's waist. "I told you. I was looking forward to kissing Yuuri's gold."

Yuuri turns, and Viktor rolls onto his back, letting Yuuri nestle against his chest. Viktor smiles, moving his arm so that Yuuri can better tuck his head into Viktor's shoulder. "I'm proud of you," Viktor says, softly. Yuuri smiles.

"If you told me last year that this was how things would be, I wouldn't have believed it," Yuuri says. He traces a small circle on Viktor's chest before lightly kissing the spot, wonderingly. Viktor smiles, one hand absently stroking Yuuri's head. "You were my idol. And you helped me get a spot on the podium."

"Don't enjoy it for long," Viktor says, smiling. He hitches Yuuri close. "Once I start competing again I'm going to knock you right off."

"What about Yurio?"

"Please. You two can vie for silver. I'm going to get the gold."

Yuuri laughs softly and Viktor drops a kiss on Yuuri's forehead. They turn and rearrange themselves into a spooning position, Yuuri reaching an arm out to put the medal back on the nightstand before turning off the light. He is about to drift off to sleep when he feels Viktor press a featherlight kiss behind his ear.