.
.
There is a crowd of people congratulating him at the Grand Prix banquet, but Victor keeps glancing over at the table in the corner.
The Japanese kid, the one Victor tried to take a photo with, is standing with his back to the ballroom, hunching his shoulders and fingering a flute of champagne. Earlier he overheard Yuri Plisetsky saying that he found him crying in the bathroom, and saw firsthand how the other competitors cast him pitying looks, whispering amongst themselves before enjoying more lighthearted banter. Now the kid seems to shrink into himself, holding that glass of champagne like a too-small shield. He watches him toss it back in one large gulp before reaching for another glass, throwing his hand out toward the waiter like a drowning man grasping for rope.
He never would have expected the kid, two hours later, to drunkenly challenge each and every one of the competitors to a dance contest; he certainly never would have expected the kid to flirt with him aggressively or drunkenly hump his leg.
"My family runs a hot springs resort, so please come!"
Victor blushes, then considers.
xXx
.
The kid doesn't remember.
"Why are you here?" Yuri says, and Victor finds himself staring at soft full lips and wide brown eyes, and at that lithe skater's body which is now layered by an endearing bit of pudge.
"Well you look like a little piggy, don't you?" Victor says, teasing him, a bit of push-pull in the way flirting and body language goes, but Yuri's face goes up in flames and Victor realizes he's miscalculated.
"I won't let you skate until you get back to your Grand Prix weight."
Coaching is a fair thing to fall back on.
xXx
.
They're sitting at the edge of the skating rink, Yuri pulling up his laces while Victor wraps his hands around a mug of coffee. They're finally alone - Yurio is already on the rink - and Victor lets his hand brush against Yuri's thigh.
Victor knows he is good-looking, and he puts those good looks to use. He locks eyes with Yuri for a good minute or so before smiling seductively. He sits close, lets his hand brush against the side of Yuri's leg. He teases him gently, smiles at him, leans toward him suggestively.
The thing about Yuri is, Yuri has no idea that he's sexy. He is quiet and shy and adorably self-effacing, and Victor has to resist the urge to hug him, to brush his lips along Yuri's nape and rub his mouth along the spot.
Yuri stammers and doesn't look at him.
Victor frowns.
xXx
.
"Yuri," Victor says, and Yuri glides to a stop. "Do you think you're sexy?"
"Huh?!" Yuri's eyes are wide and his face goes up in flames.
"If I told you you were sexy," Victor says, skating near him. "Would you believe me?"
Yuri doesn't look at him. "...No."
Victor sighs, skating close to him.
"Seduce me," Victor says. He takes Yuri's hand, pressing it to his chest. "Skate as if you want me. I know you can do it." I've seen you do it before.
Their eyes lock. There is a drop of sweat along Yuri's temple. Victor looks at him intensely; Yuri's eyes are wide and terrified.
"I...I don't think I can seduce you, Victor. I'm not...I'm not very sexy and...well you know, I'm just-"
"You don't have the confidence." Victor pulls back, lets Yuri breathe. "But you are Eros, Yuri. I've seen what your body can do."
xXx
.
The hotel in Beijing is cramped, but Victor is used to the small quarters, tossing his luggage onto the bed and shrugging off his coat. On the bed opposite his, Yuri is unpacking, pulling out a few jumpsuits and unzipping his skating costume.
Yuri has a beautiful body. Each tilt of his head, and Victor can see the delicate triangle of Yuri's neck, the line of his collarbone beneath his shirt. His face is soft and round and his dark hair falls in messy tangles, and a thin shaft of light seems to drift from the window behind him, framing his body like a portrait.
But then Yuri glances up at him, seems to realize that Victor is staring. His face reddens. He fumbles, embarrassed and terribly self-conscious. "Eros alight," Victor says, and he steps forward, reaches a hand out to cup the side of Yuri's face. "Even the gods could not conceive of something so beautiful."
Yuri stares at him, eyes wide and heart pounding, and if Victor takes one more step closer, their bodies would be pressed against each other, belly to belly and chest to chest. "Show me," Victor says, and he reaches a hand out as if to touch him. "Show me what your Eros can do."
His fingers stop mid-air, just shy of touching him, and he sees Yuri blush and swallow thickly.
"Don't tease me," Yuri mutters. Victor lets his gaze linger, then smiles.
xXx
.
There is something different today. Something in the way that Yuri carries himself.
It's more than just the costume, though if you asked Victor, it certainly doesn't hurt. Skin-tight body suit, tousled black hair gelled and combed back, Yuri's astonishing good looks are heightened beneath the stadium lights of the arena. Around them, fans cheer and cry out as Yuri skates on the rink, and Victor understands that this is the image that his Japanese fans have of him, this mixture of beauty and power simmering underneath.
"Don't ever take your eyes off me," Yuri says.
His forehead is pressed flush against Victor's. His hand, which Victor had initially grasped, is now covering his.
What follows is the flawless vision of Victor's program, and for a moment the crowd can see what Victor sees - beauty and power and sexual heat - and when it's over, Yuri's face splits into a grin. He beams up at the audience, breathing hard and smiling broadly.
He hugs him at the Kiss and Cry. Yuri blushes and stares at the floor.
xXx
.
"Victor?"
"Yes, Yuri?"
They are outside Yuri's hotel room. Yuri is out of costume now, wearing his track suit and glasses and his skates slung across his back, and for some reason he seems troubled. Nerves, Victor thinks, and he's about to speak when Yuri turns, stands on his tiptoes, and presses a soft kiss against Victor's cheek.
Victor stops, stunned. Yuri blushes but doesn't look at him, his eyes staring at a neutral spot on the floor.
"...Yuri?"
"Goodnight, Victor!" Yuri spins on his heel and walks quickly toward his door.
xXx
.
The kiss on the rink seems to come out of nowhere.
It isn't that way to Victor, who had spent the night thinking of Yuri's shy kiss, and who had spent the morning of the competition napping and cuddling with him, only to make him cry a few hours later after threatening to quit if Yuri doesn't make the podium. "Why would you say something like that, like you're trying to test me?" Yuri said. "I'm used to being blamed for my own failures, but this time I'm anxious because my mistakes would reflect on you too!"
"This was the only thing I could think of that would surprise you more than you've surprised me," Victor tells him. Yuri beams up at him as the crowd goes wild.
They don't say a word as they reach Yuri's hotel room, and Victor is about to bid him goodnight when Yuri stands up on his toes again and kisses him, more sure this time, and steady. His hand reaches up to cup the side of Victor's face, and when Victor opens his eyes he sees Yuri staring at him, glasses pushed up and lines of a blush cracking across his cheeks.
For the second time that night, he seduces Victor with his personal charm.
xXx
.
They are kissing in the bedroom, hot mouths panting and bodies grinding on the bed, when Victor confesses quietly, "I've always seen you as Eros."
"What?" Yuri says. His face is flushed and his forehead is damp with sweat. Victor beams at him, tracing his cheek.
"Eros," Victor says. He kisses his neck. "Latent sexual energy."
"Ha."
"You should have seen the way you were looking at me when you danced that night." He kisses Yuri open-mouthed, lets his arms wrap around Yuri's back. "You were...magnetic."
"Oh?"
"Seductive."
"...Huh?"
"Utterly-" and he pushes down on his hips, grinding against him, "-spellbinding," he says. "The way you were humping me against my leg-"
"Stop," Yuri says, laughing.
"You were sublime. A vision. Beauty incarnate." He lowers his voice seductively. "The way you tied your necktie around your head-"
"Stop," Yuri laughs, and he rolls Victor onto his back. Victor grins up at him and likes what he sees: damp hair and flushed skin, warm brown eyes smiling at him. Their eyes lock, and Victor's grin slips a notch, as Yuri leans down and kisses him. You were always Eros, Victor thinks, as Yuri kisses him warmly and deeply, one hand gently cupping the side of Victor's face.
This is the beauty of Yuri Katsuki. Something shy and tender and completely unexpected.
He is definitely sexier than a pork cutlet bowl.