By no means did this December bring with it one of those soft, cozy, picturesque winters that were featured in post cards and the like. This winter was a cold, angry month-long temper tantrum of blizzards and ice storms and all manner of hibernal terrors. It was cold and blistering outside, but under the thick duvet and in his loving embrace, Yuuri almost completely forgot about the bitter snow just beyond the bedroom window.
But the night had not always been so peaceful. After all, for a figure skater, practice never truly ended, even in the face of miserable weather. Yuuri and Victor left the house bright and early when the winds had not been that bad, but coming home, they braved the dark subzero temperature that cooled their bodies right down to the bone. When they finally arrived at their blessed shelter, they were shivering and nearly frost-bitten and eager to get something warm into their bellies. After a warm relaxing shower, the two of them ate Yuuri's favourite, katsudon, for dinner and enjoyed some piping hot green tea on the side. In comfortable sweaters, they chatted and shared a large blanket in the living area as they finished off their tea, glad to be with each other as the storm bellowed outside.
But the best part of the night was paradoxically the end. The couple went to bed early that night. Victor had always emphasized the importance of a good night's rest for an athlete, so at 10 o'clock sharp, the two of them were already curled up in bed under the soft covers, sinking blissfully into dreamland. Yuuri, who was the little spoon that night, sighed contently against his pillow. There was absolutely nowhere he'd rather be than here, in their soft bed where the winter cold couldn't touch him with the heat of Victor's body around him and the aroma of the Russian man's favourite soap and his own natural scent wafting off of him. After having known Victor for years, Yuuri had come to find the subtle, musky smell comforting by association. It was the same scent which was attached to all of Victor's clothing – the ones Yuuri would "borrow" but forget to return. The thought of wearing the stolen hoodies and sweaters made Yuuri snuggle closer to his sleeping boyfriend which caused a sudden surge in the warmth he felt. Victor's body, clothed only in a particularly long pair of Yuuri's sweatpants, brought the entire space underneath the duvet up to a pleasant temperature in contrast to the terrible cold outside... Well, most of him was warm, anyway. Inexplicably, Victor's feet managed to stay freezing cold and in his sleep, he kept pushing them against Yuuri's legs in an attempt to warm them up. That was a little uncomfortable, but if it meant Yuuri could stay as close to him as he was, he could bear it.
As he readjusted himself, Yuuri could feel Victor stir slightly and he heard the other man mutter something in Russian (which, using his meagre knowledge of the language, Yuuri had deduced was something about passing the vodka) before returning to a peacefully silent state. Slowly falling asleep, Yuuri smiled at his boyfriend's sleep-talking. It was kind of adorable, even when he was apparently dreaming about getting turnt up. Victor stirred again, furrowed his eyebrows and whined something that sounded like "Nyet, nyeeeet, Georgiii, ya ne p'yan..." ("P'yan" means drunk, right? thought Yuuri. Or was it "p'yanyy"...?), before tightening his grip around the smaller man's waist and muttering something which might have been, "Yuuriiii, skazhite yemu, chto ya ne p'yan...!". Victor was so close now that Yuuri could feel his steady breathing against the back of his neck. They were so close, in fact, that Yuuri imagined that he might be able to feel Victor's heart beating against his back. Nothing could possibly come between them...
Until...
Suddenly, Yuuri felt a huge weight crawl up on top of him, landing right in the groove where Yuuri ended and Victor began. He grunted with surprise and slight pain as the thing cozied up in the spot it had made. The white haired Russian man groaned in his sleep at the intrusion. Yuuri knew he didn't even have to switch on the lamp at his bedside to know what it was.
"Makkachi~n!" Victor, still half asleep, whined at the brown poodle as he and his boyfriend were forced to pull apart slightly. Unfortunately for the couple, Makkachin had always been Victor's bedmate before Yuuri came into the picture, and he wasn't about to give up his owner's warm embrace so easily. The dog made himself comfortable on top of the two annoyed men, unwilling to move if it meant losing his spot with Victor. Yuuri sighed. This was the third night.
"I can't believe he's actually jealous of me," the younger man said rolling onto his back, but he reached up the scratch behind the canine's ears anyway. Victor, much more awake now, chuckled, sitting up and pulling the naughty dog into his arms as Yuuri switched the lamp on.
"I don't think he's going to let us sleep," he patted Makkachin's exposed stomach and spoke in a voice he only used with the dog. "You want papochka's attention too, don't you, boy? But you have to share!"
Yuuri sat up now too. He wasn't angry at Makkachin – not at all. Annoyed, yes, but not angry. Even that, however, dissipated when he looked over and saw those big brown eyes staring back at him. Who could stay annoyed at such a cute little doggie?
"Well, what now?" the younger man asked, rubbing his hand against the top of the jealous dog's head.
"I suppose you two will have to share me," Victor replied with his trademark grin which was somewhere between heart-stopping and absolutely goofy.
And so, share they did. Victor ended up on his back in the very middle of the bed, his left arm cradling his furry friend and his right cradling Yuuri, who rested his head in the crook of Victor's neck. The next morning, he woke up with cramps in his arms from sleeping in a bit of an awkward position to accommodate his bedmates, but, Yuuri and Makkachin were happy, so Victor could endure for them.
Author's note: I had to use Google Translate for the Russian because I don't know any... Hopefully, it's not weird or awkward. Here's what Google says they translate to...
"Nyet, nyeeeet, Georgiii, ya ne p'yan..." = "No, noooo, Georgiii, I'm not drunk..."
"Yuuriiii, skazhite yemu, chto ya ne p'yan...!" = "Yuuriiii, tell him I'm not drunk...!"
Also, as far as my knowledge goes, papochka is just a cute word for "dad", like daddy.
Thanks for reading! :3
