Kon'nichwa, Everyone! :D
I've finally gotten over Writer's Block and I immediately began to write!
While I wasn't here, I was busy drowning myself in Yuri! On Ice and ViktUuri! I'm not a big fan of Boy/Boy, but Viktor/Yuuri was far too cute to not ship it.
This is my first Boy/Boy (yaoi) fanfiction, a smol ficlet. I hope you enjoy, and tell me in your reviews how this was!
- CelestialScript
Content with You
Yuuri Katsuki was not sure on how much longer his legs would hold him upright.
The boy had been up from dawn at Ice Castle, skidding, twirling, leaping, and skating to his heart's content, ignoring the throbs and protests of his legs and thighs to stop and rest.
Oh, how he regretted not submitting to the pain and retiring back to his quarters at noon.
Twirling his wrist weakly in greeting to his relatives and the guests lounging in the cozy inn, Yuuri sent a half-hearted smile to all the humans residing, radiating friendliness, body aching to crumple against the low table. Refusing to give in, he continued onward to his room, politely declining Minako's offer to pay a visit to her dance studio.
Just barely reaching his room, his thoughts darted to Viktor for a fleeting moment, who had excused himself from the ice rink that day, having a few dire errands to complete. A sliver of a smile flickered on Yuuri's face, recalling that the older man had warned him not to push himself too hard.
He was doing the exact opposite, it seemed.
Flinging his charcoal, worn, and well-used valise onto the crinkled, snowy sheets of his scarred, wooden bed, he kneeled down, kneecaps scraping onto the dull wood of the dusty floor. His fingers trembled from exhaustion as he struggled to remove the ties that fastened his bruised feet to the onyx shoes, letting out a sigh of relief as he kicked free of the bindings.
The raven-head did not have time to march to the bed before his body gave out, collapsing onto the hard surface, reassured snores wafting from his mouth. As much as it was uncomfortable, he was sound asleep, no care that he was resting on the floor, a foot from the bed.
The door flung wide open, a certain silver-locked man strutted in, arms laden with bags, celeste orbs crinkled in exhilaration, excitement, and elation.
"Yuuuuuuuri! You will absolutely love what I under covered today-" Faltering mid-sentence as it entered his mind that the younger man was nowhere in his vision of sight, Viktor frowned, the corners of his aqua eyes wrinkling in twisted confusion and slight worry.
Yuuri should have been back by now from Ice Castle. Sending fleeting looks to the small window perched against the navy walls, he confirmed that the flaming orb of fire was already dipping beneath the horizon; the figure skater shouldn't be out for that long.
Rubbing his forehead with a sweaty palm, Viktor proceeded to trudge toward Yuuri's bed to slip his device from his pocket and send the boy a quick message requesting to learn where he was currently. That was until he tripped and collided with something soft and squishy and very much alive on the floor.
An uncharacteristically girly squeal erupted from his mouth as he plunged to the ground, but he managed to save himself, hands grasping onto one of the convenient bed posts by his side. Straightening his slouched figure, his vision flickered downwards, identifying the subject to his trip.
Namely, Yuuri Katsuki.
The coal-ringed male was sprawled on the rough floor, legs pressed to chest, soft, ebony tresses of hair curled around his serene, tranquil expression, the boy had seemingly collapsed from fatigue.
Despite the ragged form of his pupil, Viktor felt a soft smile graced his lips, before bending down on a knee, brushing out a strand of hair from Yuuri's face.
Feeling as if his insides were melting into a pool of water by the expression on the young man's face, he lifted himself from his position, approaching the vacant bed to swipe a few fluffy pillows and a creased, warm quilt that had been resting, messy, on the sheets.
Retreating to his previous position, the silver-head scattered the pillows around Yuuri, nestling him as comfortable as he could for someone resting on the floor.
Instead of spreading the blanket atop of him, Viktor crawled to push himself flush against Yuuri, wrapping both of them in the cloth, then engulfing his arms around the boy's lithe self, bringing his (Yuuri's) head to his own chest, trapping Yuuri in his loving embrace.
The skater seemed thankful for the extra heat; he responded to Viktor's action by bundling himself even closer than they already were, rubbing his head against his coach, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Viktor's neck.
Giving a faint laugh, Viktor arched his neck down to lightly place a silken kiss on top of Yuuri's dark locks, reaching a hand up to gently slide his palm under the sleeping man's face, rubbing softly.
Yuuri flinched only slightly when the cold metal of Viktor's gold ring touched his face, quickly melting into the caress, pushing his head against the figure skater's loving hand.
So innocent, so faultless, so cute.
Thoughts consisting of only the boy curled at his chest swirling in his relaxed brain, Viktor could feel his mind and focus getting hazy and glazing over, until all that was left was a welcoming darkness.
When Yuuri's eyes flickered open to the feeling of warmth and heat, to the sound of fleecy breathing, and to the sight of a certain coin-silver haired person, he felt nothing less than embarrassed surprise and shock.
Or, otherwise known as Viktor Nikiforov.
Heat rushing into his face when Yuuri realized the intimate position they both were in, with legs entangled, silver and ash locks brushing together, arms and hands cradling his body, he managed to recall the past events, which certainly did not have any Viktor in them.
Or pillows and blankets.
Which must have meant that Viktor had trekked into his bedroom to find Yuuri fast asleep, swathed him in fabric, and joined him in his slumber.
A minuscule shift from his resting partner jolted Yuuri from his thoughts; gazing upwards, his coffee orbs met azure ones, locking together, both gazes unfaltering.
Viktor was the one who broke their staring contest; reaching up, he cupped Yuuri's face, tracing the line of his jaw with a finger, the finger that had a glinting band of metal adorning it.
"Yuuri…" The flint-ringed man practically purred as he tilted Yuuri's chin up, eyes darting down to his pale, slightly parted, pink lips.
The other sable-locked boy smiled slightly, fingers twined tightly around Viktor's.
"Viktor-"
The rest of his sentence was cut off by some unknown reason, which most people did not have to ponder much to realize what it was.
The End