Author's Note: This was a little something written for RoChu Week 2017, Day 7. The prompt was 'Nostalgia'. I hope you enjoy reading :)

Yao's sigh brushed sweetly against his ear. Ivan could almost feel the broken tension in it – how, if he had his hands on Yao's shoulders, he would feel muscles ease and melt like honey. Ivan kept his hand preoccupied on his own chest, absent-mindedly stroking as he sunk deeper into a mound of pillows and blankets, listening to the rustle of Yao's clothes over the phone.

'Are you okay?' Ivan asked, hearing Yao's lingering hum. He chuckled. 'Yao, you've been working yourself too hard. Getting into bed and making cute noises like that…'

'Aiyah…' Yao's voice was gentle, hushed almost to a whisper. 'I'm busy these days, okay?'

'Why are you whispering?'

'It's three a.m. here.'

'And?'

'The walls are paper thin. I don't want neighbours listening in.'

'Shall I whisper too, then?' Ivan lowered his voice with a smile. He liked the way Yao sounded when he was quiet; his voice grew soft and sweet in a way that made Ivan want to squeeze Yao into a tight embrace and never let go.

'If you want,' Yao muttered. He sighed and rolled over beneath the sheets – Ivan could hear the intimate rustling of fabric over the phone. 'What time is it over there?'

'Around ten.'

'You're in bed, then?'

'Da…'

The phone line eased into silence, though these moments of quiet were always of comfort between them. Ivan listened closely for Yao's breaths, missing how they would tickle against his throat when they were asleep together. Now, with the distance between them – from Moscow to Beijing – Ivan found himself longing for smallest of things. Even just a touch, one gentle press of Yao's hand was all Ivan wanted.

Yao's breath drew in, as if about to say something. Then, a moment's hesitation, before speaking into the phone like he was murmuring in Ivan's ear, low and breathy, and even the slightest bit timid.

'What are you wearing?'

Ivan's brows rose. He hadn't expected something like that from Yao. And, as cliché as the question sounded, he hadn't expected to feel excited by it, either. 'Uh…' Ivan chuckled nervously, thinking that Yao would be disappointed with the answer. 'Sweatpants and shirt.'

'…Ah.'

The line went quiet again, and Ivan panicked a little. Did he really end it there? He should have lied, should have said he was wearing something sexy instead, a suit maybe, or even nothing at all –

'What are you wearing?' Ivan asked quickly, hoping maybe he could salvage the conversation.

Yao hummed in consideration. 'Same as you.'

Ivan paused, before letting a smile tug at his lips. 'Yao…'

'What?'

'What are you really wearing?'

'Aiyah, what do you mean? I'm wearing sweatpants and a shirt.'

'Boxers and baggy sweater, da?'

Yao went quiet. 'Is my phone camera on?'

'Yaochka…' Ivan chuckled. 'Did you think I've forgotten these things about you already? I know what you wear in bed.'

Yao huffed out. 'So you do.'

'Is it the one I gave you?'

'The ridiculously oversized red one? Yes.'

'That's the one that makes Yaochka look his cutest.'

Yao made a growled sigh – the sort of irritated sound he made when he was flattered but didn't want to show it. Cute was a word Ivan used sparingly – sometimes it angered Yao, but sometimes, it melted that flustered expression into something endearing and sweet. Ah, if only he could see Yao right now, bundled up in a sweater much too big for him…

'If I were there,' Ivan sighed, rolling over to his side. 'I'd squeeze you in a hug so tight you'd stop breathing.'

Yao scoffed softly. 'Why does that not sound so terrible to me?'

'I can tell you more terrible things if you want.'

Yao's chuckle sounded over the phone with crackling warmth. 'Tell me more then.'

Ivan hummed in thought, his breaths the slightest bit deeper when he pictured Yao in his loose sweater. 'I would slip my hands beneath your sweater and feel you. Your back, your shoulders, your chest, every inch of you…'

Yao made a low hum of contentment, the sound sending the tips of Ivan's ears burning. He wasn't used to doing this, saying these things out loud. When it came to affection Ivan had always been the more forthright one, but to do this over the phone, with his voice… it felt vulnerable.

'And then?' Yao asked, prompting him.

Ivan considered for a moment, imagining himself with his hands up Yao's shirt and smoothing across soft skin, over a chest through which he could feel a pulse start to flutter. 'I'd kiss you.'

'Roughly?'

'Softly,' Ivan said, unable to help this uncomfortable feeling in his chest, this tiny little ache that had eaten away at him since Yao left. The ache was caught in his throat when he thought to say something more, something stupid probably, about this; only he was too afraid to say it. 'Would Yao would like it rougher?' Ivan said instead, a small chuckle on his lips to hide the ache.

'No, soft is nice, too…' Yao trailed off, his breaths brushing, almost caressing Ivan with their whispers. 'Tell me more.'

'I'd kiss your lips… and your cheeks and your throat,' Ivan continued, breaths deepening. 'I'd kiss down your jawline and suck at your earlobe.'

'Would you bite?'

'Only if you bite first.'

Ivan heard the sound of a breathy smile. 'I'd bite…' Yao purred, his words caressing with their silken tones. 'I'd pull away at your shirt and bite your shoulder first. And then I'd lick the mark away.'

Ivan shivered, almost fooling himself into thinking he could feel Yao's warm tongue lapping at his shoulder, the soft press of petal smooth lips on his skin. 'Is there a bed in this hypothetical situation?' Ivan asked, unable to help the slight thickening of his voice.

'If you want.'

'Then I carry you to it, and I straddle you with your hips beneath mine,' Ivan said, longing for the pressure of Yao's hips bucking against his, the slight catch of breath when their hips moved together in rhythm. 'I'd kiss at your throat, sinking my teeth in gently as I rub my hips against yours.'

Yao's breath hitched, the slight whisper of sheets rustling in a slow and steady pace. Ivan felt his cock start to harden at the thought of Yao touching himself to Ivan's voice, reaching his hand down to his erection to stroke it.

Yao's voice broke through the phone line, a slight ragged edge on it, the tinge of need: 'Keep going.'

'I'd grind against you a little harder, slowing down as I pin your wrists up above your head…' Ivan swallowed, picturing Yao in his flushed vulnerability, how sweetly his body almost melted beneath his touch. The light strokes on Ivan's cock grew harder, throbbing heat spreading and coiling his muscles tight. 'I take off your sweater and boxers, taking hold of your erection and rubbing it.'

'Ah –' Yao panted, speaking through restrained groans. 'Ivan… I want…'

'You want…?' Ivan said teasingly.

Yao huffed out. 'D-Don't make me say it out loud.'

Ivan hummed, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. 'Does Yao want me inside?'

'Y-Yes,' Yao said, the words in his need-husked voice sending a shiver of pleasure through Ivan's body. 'I want you.'

'You want me?' Ivan panted, unable to help the flattered smile on his lips. 'Yao… I want you, too. I want you so much.'

Yao made a needy murmur, leaving Ivan longing for the feeling of Yao's moans on him, of having their sweat-slick bodies pressed together and feeling the teasing brush of Yao's lips on his ear when he rasped out Ivan's name.

'Yao, if I were there I'd kiss your throat and your chest until there were red marks all over you. I'd spread your legs out and run my hands over your inner thighs...'

A murmured moan of anticipation slipped out of Yao's lips. 'Ivan, don't tease me…'

'Let me spoil you,' Ivan said, his amused chuckle weakened by the burning arousal consuming him. He slowed the pumping of his hand, savouring the desperate groans coming from Yao's parted lips. 'I'd drag my hands across your inner thighs, squeezing tight as they get closer to your cock. I'd pull your hips closer to mine, and then push into you slowly…'

A soft cry broke out from Yao, breaths huffing as he pumped, the sheets making rhythmic hushes in Ivan's ear. Ivan swallowed, the sheen of sweat coating his throat as his eyelids fluttered closed. He tightened his grip on this throbbing cock, pre-cum flowing down in fat droplets.

'I'd thrust into you, pulling you closer each time –' Ivan parted his lips in a silent gasp, his hips jerking into the tight grip of his hand that he was thrusting into like it was Yao. He imagined the back of Yao's soft thighs gently slapping against him with each thrust, the taut arch of Yao's back when he heard velvety moans filling up the phone line. It was always just before they finished that Ivan would always feel Yao tighten around him the most, his lips parting and his eyes soft and vulnerable in their pleasure-struck trance as he called out for him –

'Ivan…' Yao moaned, in a honeyed tone that sent a cascading rain of pleasure over Ivan's body as he came. Ivan groaned, continuing to stroke himself through the deep warmth that was pooling and ebbing through him. He heard Yao come with a muffled cry, their panting breaths intermixing and entangling together, slowing with blissful relief.

Ivan lolled his head to the side, the phone pressed uncomfortably against his face, though he felt as though he could melt away into the mattress like this. The night crickets hummed outside his window, counting the slow seconds as cold air seeped into the room through the window frame, cooling the sweat off his skin.

Ivan opened his eyes, the shiver of cold breaking the illusion of Yao being here with him, a cruel reminder that the steady breaths he was hearing was over the phone, from a hotel room many, many miles away from here. And then the ache in his chest returned – a dull, crawling pain.

'I miss you.'

Ivan's words had come out tinier, more helpless than he had expected. Sheets rustled over the phone, Yao's breath drawing in carefully.

'I know.'

Ivan swallowed, a lump in his throat. 'Don't you miss me, too?'

'I'll be back soon,' Yao said hastily, hesitating. 'Only four months left…'

'You're cruel.'

'Aiyah… Don't say that. You know I…' Yao trailed off. 'Anyway. Goodnight, Ivan. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?'

'No, don't leave!' Ivan said, hearing Yao's resigned sigh. 'Yao, stay a little longer… I'm sorry.'

'Aren't you tired?'

'No,' Ivan said, though his eyelids felt heavy, the warmth of the sheets lulling him into sleep. 'No, I want to stay awake until you fall asleep first.'

'Vanya…' Yao chuckled affectionately, his warm and honeyed voice only making the lump in Ivan's throat grow. 'It won't be that long. I'll fall deep asleep the moment I close my eyes.'

'Then try not to close your eyes. Stay with me a little bit more.'

'I'll try…' Yao hummed, breaths slowing and deepening, his voice growing quieter. 'And just so you know…'

'Yeah…?'

Yao murmured, his words made incoherent by drowsiness. Ivan strained to listen, only to catch none of it.

'Just so I know, what?' Ivan groaned. 'Yao…'

'… miss you, too…'

'What?'

The phone went quiet, save for Yao's deep, steady breaths. Ivan felt tears sting at his eyes, not sure if it was from the near-physical pain of missing Yao, or from the sort of sad way in which, those three small words brought indescribable joy to his heart.

Ivan closed the phone, a smile as he wiped away at the tears in his eyes. He let sleepiness carry him away, gently closing his eyes to fall into the comfort of Yao's words – that shared sentiment of longing. And for the first time in a while, the ache in Ivan's chest melted away.