"How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you're retiring?"

Yuri stared at Viktor, his mind still trying to process the fact that the tears sliding down the other's cheeks were not only real, but from a place of true emotion. Until that moment, Yuri had never felt like he and Viktor were truly connected. At least not on any sort of emotional level. They were both passionate about their sport, and the teacher was no doubt eager to see his student triumph. But in those moments of excitement and success, Yuri couldn't help but feel like they were celebrating parallel to each other, rather than sharing the joy.

For that reason alone, Yuri hesitated in everything when it came to Viktor. The kiss after his performance at The Cup of China, the exchanging of rings in Barcelona… If all of these bits and pieces were strung together, using each stolen moment to create one collective portrait, what would it show? Admiration… Friendship… Love? Would there even be picture at all, or would it simply be a reflection of Yuri's wishful thinking?

"I can't do this anymore," Yuri replied, his soft laughter hollow and empty. "I keep thinking this is a dream. I'm going to wake up one day and you'll be gone. I'll be alone again and everything I've experienced until now will be nothing more than an illusion. I finally know what love is," he continued, smiling as he tried to ignore the catch in his voice, "but I also know what it's like to live without it. I want to remember you and I just like this. For me, that's enough. For a moment in time, you were mine, but now… now it's time to give you back to the world."

"Don't," Viktor hissed, his tone still angry despite the tears brimming in his eyes. "You don't get to do that."

"Do what?" Yuri asked, frowning in confusion.

Viktor closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. The pause couldn't have been for more than a few seconds, but for Yuri it felt like an eternity. When those blue eyes opened again, there was no mercy or kindness in them.

"You want to retire? Fine. But don't make this decision about me. Ask me to stay, and I will. Tell me go, and I'll leave. But don't use me as your justification for quitting. I refuse to be your excuse."

Yuri's frown remained in place, the bed frame creaking as he shifted uneasily on the mattress. Viktor's words were… unexpected. Then again, so were the male's anger and tears. Nothing about this conversation was going the way Yuri had anticipated, and the added sting of Viktor's words had him wondering if there was any truth to them. Was he using Viktor as his excuse to give up figure skating? Retiring had seemed like the next logical step, hadn't it?

"Oh, Yuri," Viktor said, his familiar smile shadowed by muted frustration. "You still don't see it, do you?"

The creases in Yuri's brow deepened, his expression twisting with a sort of silent panic. "What?" he asked, his voice raising an octave. "What don't I see?"

Viktor's smile faltered ever so slightly. If Yuri hadn't been studying his face so intently, he might have missed the subtle change. It was such a small thing, but it was enough to make Yuri's heart skip a full beat.

"Viktor, I—"

Yuri's words were stolen right from his lips, the fleeting kiss rashly given and unexpectedly received. In almost the same moment, the kiss was broken, leaving Yuri both confused and breathless. Viktor pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes; the warmth of his breath like fire against Yuri's flushed cheeks. Brief as it was, there was an edge of desperation to the kiss that made their first one seem like an innocent peck on the cheek.

"I-I… Y-you…" Yuri's mouth snapped shut, his inability to form a coherent sentence adding a hint of genuine humor to Viktor's smile.

The look in that cool blue gaze was enough to make Yuri's heart flutter and skip, sputtering through several beats like an engine trying to start. All he could hear was the blood rushing past his ears, his senses narrowing until every corner of his mind was filled with Viktor… 'It's not fair.' That was Yuri's first thought, the words holding a childish ring to them as they echoed through his head. For one human being to be so utterly perfect… So much so that it psychically hurt to look at them... Where was the fairness in that? Yuri tried to break the spell Viktor had so effortlessly cast, wanting to avert his gaze but unable to turn away. The Russian's impossibly blue eyes glittered in the soft glow of the lamps, their swirling depths seeming to beckon Yuri closer. The longer he stared into them, the deeper he was pulled into the bottomless ocean of blue. He leaned forward involuntary, gasping softly as the sensation of falling rippled through him.

Yuri jerked away, sucking in a startled breath. He hurriedly fixed his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose with a shaky hand. The unconscious movement was nothing more than an excuse to put some distance between them. He felt like he was suffocating, each breath becoming a little more difficult to take. Viktor, however, refused to let Yuri escape so easily.

"I keep waiting for you to figure it out," Viktor said, reaching out and removing Yuri's glasses. As he turned to set them down, the strands of his silver fell over his eyes, making it impossible to read them.

"Figure out what?" Yuri asked anxiously.

"That it doesn't have to be one or the other. You see only one option. I see endless possibilities."

Yuri shook his head, not quite following Viktor's meaning. "If this is about my retiring, I told you, I…"

Viktor shoved Yuri back onto the mattress, the sudden rush of air sending his dark locks fluttering around his face. The Russian was on his feet now, his lustful gaze locked squarely on Yuri.

"V-Viktor?" Yuri stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched the Russian untie the robe he wore. "Wh-what… what are you doing?"

"I'm going to open your eyes," he answered, letting the soft white fabric slide down his body and to the floor.

Yuri lifted up on his elbows, the heel of his foot pushing against the edge the mattress as he tried to scoot away. Viktor grabbed his ankle tightly, his vicelike grip firm yet gentle at the same time.

"Stop running, Yuri. Stop running and take what you want. Whether it's the gold medal tomorrow, another year doing what you so obviously love, or just… me."

Yuri shook his head vigorously, the cacophony of voices in his head screaming all at once. They had veered left at some point, the conversation heading down a path Yuri wasn't prepared to travel down.

"V-Viktor, w-we can't!" Yuri gasped, clenching his teeth to stop the yelp that almost burst from his lips as Viktor yanked off his pants. "I-I have to skate tomorrow," he pleaded in a trembling voice.

"I know," Viktor replied solemnly, moving to straddle Yuri's waist. "I've been waiting for the right moment to take you, but between the practices and performances, there was never a right time. It's only now that I realize it should be you claiming me."

Viktor slipped two fingers into his mouth, his gaze never leaving Yuri's face as he prepared his body…

Yuri was a virgin in every sense of the word, his doe-eyed gaze wide with terror and laced with uncertainty. If the circumstances had been different, Viktor would have laughed, probably teased Yuri a bit before stealing a kiss that would ignite the other's cheeks. But this… this wasn't the time to be playful or feign ignorance to the gravity of this moment.

Viktor couldn't help but think that every second he'd shared with Yuri; every triumphant and every defeat, had inevitably led to this one, single moment. Perhaps he'd known this was going to happen all along, because of all the things to feel in a moment such as this, Viktor hadn't anticipated his overwhelming sense of relief. There'd been a wall between them until now, and the Russian was determined to bring it tumbling to the ground…

Ever since they'd arrived in Barcelona, perhaps even before then, Viktor had been contemplating his return to the ice. As sensitive and self-critical as Yuri could be, seeing him grow not only as a skater, but as a person, brought about a different sort of passion. Viktor had always sought to surprise his audience and fans, but during his brief time with Yuri, he'd learned the importance of surprising himself. At a time when his heart was torn between coaching and his career, his newfound relationship with Yuri had provided an anchor to which Viktor could hold onto.

"After the finals, let's end this…"

The words echoed mercilessly in Viktor's head, threatening to bring about another wave of angry tears. It felt good to be needed by Yuri. In fact, Viktor had found a kind of satisfaction he couldn't quite put into words. He was used to the adoration and worship of his fans, but what he'd found with Yuri eclipsed even that. And now his pupil was just going to… walk away?

Viktor wouldn't allow it…

The decision wasn't his to make. And with his own thoughts shadowed by doubt and uncertainty, Viktor was in no position to tell Yuri what he should and shouldn't do. But at the same time, how could he allow them to part ways without so much as a word of protest? True, Viktor didn't have all the answers, nor could he say for certain what the future held for either of them. But what he did know, what he'd learned from his time at Yuri's side, was that he wanted to make the decision together rather than apart.

Viktor held his breath, positioning Yuri's length at his entrance. For someone so eager to stop only moments ago, there was no denying how aroused the younger male was. The moment Viktor had removed his robe, he'd noticed Yuri's arousal tenting the front of his pants.

"V-Viktor…"

Yuri said his name like a prayer, the throaty whisper sending a sliver of pleasure coiling down Viktor's spine. How long had it been since he'd given himself to another? Usually it was the Russian doing the taking, but, when it came to Yuri, Viktor found that things like positions and labels didn't matter. Only love did…

Viktor inhaled deeply, breathing out slowly as he forced his body to relax and allow Yuri's length to slide inside him. The build of pressure… the hiss of pain… Through it all, Viktor kept his eyes on Yuri.

"I'm hurting you," Yuri whispered, lifting himself up off the bed. He moved to awkwardly hold Viktor, his brow furrowed with worry and his innocent gaze filled with concern.

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuri's shoulders, hiding his face in the crook of the other's neck as he thrust his hips downward. An involuntary cry of pain tore from Viktor's throat, the suddenness of being filled so completely making every muscle in his body tense at once.

"Vik—"

"Don't move!" Viktor bit out, his hold tightening around Yuri. "I just… I need a minute."

Viktor took several calming breaths, coaxing his body into relaxing once more. He pulled back, cupping Yuri's cheeks as he pressed his forehead to the other's brow.

"I feel like I'm the virgin here," Viktor chuckled softly, wincing at the feel of Yuri's cock twitching inside him. "I didn't expect you to be quite so large," he added, smiling when Yuri's cheeks warmed against the palms of his hands.

"Viktor, please… D-don't force yourself," Yuri said, his voice tight and thready.

"Shall I stop then?" Viktor asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Yuri's lips before moving as if to get up.

Yuri's hand practically flew to Viktor's narrow hip, the force of this grip bringing Viktor to an abrupt halt. Dark brown eyes stared up at the Russian, the shimmering depths void of the uncertainty that so often left Yuri second-guessing himself. Viktor's heart swelled, threatening to burst in his chest.

This time it was Yuri who made the first move, his lips claiming Viktor's in a kiss so sudden and passionate, it brought with it a flutter of fear and excitement. Viktor thread his delicate fingers through Yuri's thick locks, his hip now moving of their own accord. It took several faltering starts to find their perfect rhythm, but soon their bodies were moving in as if they were one…

Yuri couldn't stop… His mind was a jumble of incoherent thoughts, and the only word he could clearly make out was 'Viktor.' Never in his life had he felt anything so incredible. Had he known such pleasure existed, he might not have waited so long to experience it. But then again this was Viktor Nikiforov, the man Yuri had idolized for the better part of his life. He couldn't imagine doing this with anyone except the silver-haired beauty.

Still, as enlightening as this moment was, it was obvious Viktor was the more experienced of the two. Yuri could hardly catch his breath, every rock and roll of the Russian's hips snatching the air clean from his lungs. He felt heavy and dizzy, his skin flushed and hot to the touch. And as he struggled from one breath to the next, Yuri couldn't help but feel like he was drowning in the passion of their love-making.

"Yuri…" Viktor moaned, his body arching and his head falling backwards. "So… deep."

Yuri's vision blurred, one hand moving to grip the sheets while the other held onto Viktor's delicate hips for dear life. The Russian was lost in his own pleasure now, his knees bent so he could bounce up and down on Yuri's thick length. It was too much… too fast… Yuri wanted the exquisite torture to end, but at the same time he wanted it to last forever. He needed to slow things down and take control; otherwise, he'd be the only one leaving this room satisfied.

It was awkward and poorly executed, but Yuri managed to yank Viktor forward and into his arms, using the momentum of their bodies to roll them over. A burst of laughter rushed from Viktor's lips as his back hit the sheets, the strands of his silver bangs obscuring the amusement in his sapphire eyes.

"Such boldness," Viktor said, his words laced with that familiar undertone of seduction. "Is this your Eros?" he asked in a whisper, reaching up to wrap his arms around Yuri's neck. "Will you finally show me the truth of it?"

Viktor's words held the slightest hint of mockery, bringing with it the thought of pork cutlet bowls. Oddly enough, the humorous moment offered a much needed distraction, giving Yuri time to catch his breath and refocus. He let himself be pulled downward, his lips hovering above Viktor's in the promise of a kiss as he pulled out slowly. But before their lips touched, Yuri thrust his hips forward, slamming into Viktor with a force that startled them both.

Viktor's smile melted from his face, his body seeming to curl around Yuri's in silent encouragement. The sudden change in his expression, the soft whimper that filled the air between them… Yuri did indeed feel bold. He didn't have Viktor's captivating charm, nor could he work his hips quite so enticingly, but he found that if he moved at a certain pace; hitting a certain spot, the Russian was simply incapable of portraying that carefree, nonchalant attitude. This time it was Yuri who smiled, his surge of confidence reinvigorating him. He'd finally found his control. Viktor's allure, albeit still enthralling as ever, was no match for Yuri's stamina.

"Open your eyes," Yuri murmured, wanting to drown in those gorgeous blues once more. He wanted to be immersed in the intensity of that sparkling gaze; feel its elusive pull in hopes of making the connection with Viktor he so desperately desired. When the Russian refused to obey, Yuri cupped the other's face, brushing his thumb across the curve of the male's cheekbone. "Open your eyes," he repeated, his voice far more commanding than he intended it to be.

Viktor's eyes fluttered open, the blue orbs obscured by a veil of tears. Yuri's heart nearly leapt from his chest, his every thrust from that point on a display of how much he adored the Russian; how grateful he was to have him in his life. But the way Viktor stared up at him, his lust mixed with sadness… Yuri was struck with the realization that this would be his first and last night with his beloved Viktor…

Yuri couldn't bear to see the other's face; not now, not when his own heartache was reflected in those crystal clear blue eyes… Without so much as a warning, Yuri pulled out of Viktor. He flipped the Russian onto his stomach then slammed back into him with a kind of frustration that bordered on anger. It was obvious Viktor hadn't expected the sudden change in position, and even though Yuri was now pounding into him mercilessly, the Russian gave not a single word of protest. Within minutes, Yuri reached his limit, his anger a catalyst for his lust. He came hard and fast, tears in his eyes as he emptied his seed for the first time inside another…

Viktor cried silent tears, his mind and body at odds with what they were feeling. He was riding the line between pleasure and pain, and it took everything he had not to scream in delicious agony. Clinging to the sheets with both hands, Viktor clenched his teeth, burying his face in the mattress to muffle his involuntary sobs.

"Viktor, I-I… I…!"

Viktor felt the exact moment Yuri came, the flood of cum filling him to the brim and triggering his own orgasm. Yuri held Viktor's hips in place, the Russian's name falling from his lips like a psalm of praise…

Viktor collapsed on the bed, Yuri following suit. Neither moved nor spoke, each fighting to calm their racing hearts. To Viktor's credit, he managed not to whimper when Yuri's cock finally slid out of his ravaged hole. The sudden loss of the fullness left Viktor feeling empty and alone in more ways than one.

"Viktor?" Yuri whispered, his quiet voice breaking the silence. "I… I'm sorry."

Viktor closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again. They'd made love for the first time, and all Yuri could say was, I'm sorry? Viktor clenched his teeth, wondering if the fool lying beside him would ever understand how hopelessly in love with him he was. Taking a deep breath, Viktor pasted a smile on his face and forced his body up and off the bed. His back ached and every muscle in his body was screaming for him to lay back down, but he managed to keep both feet firmly on the ground.

"We should get ready for bed," Viktor said, trying his best to sound normal. "We have an early morning."

Yuri returned Viktor's smile, but he made no move to hide his sadness. "Spoken like a true coach," he joked, slowly sitting up on the bed.

For half a second, Viktor's smile was genuine. He bent down, picking up his discarded robe from the floor. He felt more awkward that usual, which in and of itself was surprising. It was hard to maintain his natural grace and poise when Yuri's cum was currently leaking from his ass and sliding down the inside of his thigh.

"Would you… like to shower with me?" Yuri asked nervously, gathering his pants off the floor as well.

Viktor laughed softly, wondering if the man standing before him was the same one who'd nearly fucked him into the mattress.

"No," Viktor replied, forcing his smile to remain in place, "you go ahead. I'll call for some fresh sheets so the bed's ready when you get out."

Yuri nodded, looking as he wanted to say something else, but deciding against it. He walked past Viktor, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Viktor all but collapsed back onto the bed, barely able to drag himself across the mattress to the phone on the nightstand. He made the call to the hotel front desk, requesting a fresh set of sheets be brought up to the room. The woman on the other end promised to have someone there in ten minutes. Viktor breathed a sigh of relief, curling up on the mattress and hugging his robe to his chest. Provided Yuri took his time in the shower, that left Viktor nine solid minutes to get a good cry in…

The Next Morning…

Yuri woke up with a start, the light from the open window pouring into the room. His body felt surprisingly relaxed and rested, and after a good stretch, he suddenly remembered why…

"Viktor?" Yuri called out, frowning when there was no answer.

Scooting off the bed, Yuri knocked on the bathroom door, pushing it open when there was no response. Empty… Yuri set about brushing his teeth and hair before getting ready for the day's event. Once he was dressed and his gym bag packed, he turned off all the room lights then headed to the elevator. He had no clue where Viktor was, but when the elevator door opened into the lobby, the first thing Yuri saw was his coach's slender frame leaning against one the Romanesque pillars.

Yuri tripped out of the elevator, his clumsiness drawing the attention of several stares, including Viktor's. There was a second of hesitation before the faint smile broke across the Russian's face.

"Good morning, Yuri," Viktor said, his tone noticeably subdued. "Are you ready to head over?"

Yuri nodded, offering a quiet greeting in response. Neither mentioned the previous night's events, and considering the contemplative mood they were both in, that particular conversation wouldn't be happening any time soon; if ever. Promises had been made before bed, and with the rising of the sun, their vow was the only thing that carried over into the light of this new day. They would each make their own decision about what to do next after the free skate. And whether it was the end of one career and the renewal of another, Yuri believed that everything they'd been through together, even this heartache and pain… It was all worth it.

Viktor led the way to the car, Yuri following close behind. With each step he took, his journey with the Russian felt like it was drawing to a close. Rather than fall apart at the prospect of losing his beloved coach, Yuri steeled his resolve. If last night was going to be nothing more than a memory of his time with the great Viktor Nikiforov, then the only thing left to do was for Yuri to give this incredible story a proper ending…