Author's Note: As you probably read in the summary, the first chapter is set between episode 6 and episode 7. Repeat: Yuri has just put on his first perfect performance, and understandably, he's a little worn out and stressed. Victor, being the world's greatest coach, rises to the occasion by providing him with some... distractions.
I hope you like it!
All the performances of the day had wrapped up. Only about a fourth the arena was occupied at this point, and most of the remaining audience members were shuffling out leisurely. All the interviews were done, all the equipment had been packed away, and besides the gentle humming of an ice Zamboni smoothing out the etches on the ice, all was peaceful.
Yuri sat on a chair on the edge of the arena, mesmerized by the machine lethargically by methodically running over the ice. Everything was finally sinking in, and the pressure was beginning to steadily build. The only way he figured he could avoid falling to pieces was to thoroughly distract himself. He could use his phone to go on to social media, but all anyone would be talking about would be the day's events. He could call his family, but all they would want to discuss would be—you guessed it—the day's events.
So… Zamboni.
"Yuri~!"
Yuri blinked out of his stupor and stared up at Victor. He was looking exceptionally pleased with himself.
"The taxi I called is here." Hands on his hips, he flashed a very Victor smile. "Ready to go back to the hotel?"
"Yeah." What was he doing, letting this get to him? There was no point sitting here and wasting time, entertaining what-ifs. "Let's go."
Victor smiled again, but this time, less superficially. "Then, let's go."
"Okay."
Yuri went to get up, but a very real reality set in.
"Victor?"
Victor was already several meters away, having gotten a head start by already being on his feet. He turned at his name, hair swishing dramatically, and replied, "Yes?"
"I… I can't move."
Victor retraced his steps until he was directly in front of Yuri. "What?" he asked, but it was obvious he had heard him.
Yuri's expression washed over with embarrassment, and the heat rose to his face. "I can't move," he repeated. "Everything hurts." He winced as he made another attempt to remove himself from his seat. "Especially my legs."
Victor suddenly sobered in both expression and tone. "You didn't injure yourself, did you?"
The question caught Yuri completely off guard—but the way he said it even more so. "No, no, no!" he assured, waving his hands in front of him. "I'm fine—fine! I'm just sore is all."
The other man was serious for another beat, carefully examining Yuri top to bottom. His finger was balanced on his chin, as it often was when he was deeply concentrating. Yuri felt the stare intimately and reddened with renewed vigor.
After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity to Yuri, Victor finally seemed satisfied and visibly relaxed his shoulders. "That only seems natural after the performance you put on today. It was technically perfect."—which he meant in the most traditional of ways—"It makes sense then that you're more physically exerted than usual."
Yuri didn't have a reply—not right away anyway. What were you supposed to say to that? Instead, after a lull where Victor seemed to have no desire to superfluously fill the void in conversation, Yuri transitioned, "Then, what should we do?"
As if caught in the middle of a beautiful daydream, Victor recalled in a far-off voice, "Oh, right… The taxi…"
"Yes. The taxi." Not confident that Victor had fully absorbed his recent query, he repeated, "What should we do?"
Victor had already fully snapped back to attention. "Well, we can't just leave them out there, can we? And we need to get back to our hotel." His gaze was in the direction of the cab in question—out beyond the wall of the arena.
Yuri studied his profile. "Then…?"
"Hmm? 'Then'?" Victor stared at him as though the answer was blatantly obvious. But instead of explaining himself, he closed the gap between them and slid his arms under Yuri—one cradling his legs and the other supporting his lower back—and lifted him out of the seat completely.
"なん—!"* Yuri slipped back into his native tongue in surprise. Suddenly, all he could see was Victor's exquisite suit. Disoriented, he gazed up a little higher and caught sight of his coach's neck. He followed that line of sight slowly until he spied Victor's expression, where he discovered that Victor was quite entertained with Yuri's reaction.
Before Yuri could question him, Victor started for the exit, briefly explaining as he strode, "This is the fastest way. I'll just carry you to the taxi."
Being slightly jostled, Yuri squirmed and protested, "I'm not sure this the best way." He buried his head into Victor's suit jacket. "Besides, it's embarrassing," he muttered into the clothing. It smelled vaguely of cologne and last night's Chinese food. "What if someone sees us?"
Victor, evidently, didn't hear this as he continued towards the exit as if he was on a sacred mission. Once in front of the door, he pushed it open with his hip, being excruciatingly careful not to crush Yuri's legs in between, and treaded out into the crisp night.
Even though it was late in the evening in October, Yuri had never felt more like it was high noon in July. His whole body burned with shame—or was it something else? No, no, definitely shame. What if people saw them? Between Phitchit's Instagram photos and Victor regularly playing to the press, there was already enough speculation going around. Sure, Yuri had reveled in it earlier that day for the sake of his performance, but half of it had been adrenaline and the other half… something Yuri had yet to understand himself.
The ice skater didn't dare look up. He kept his head tucked into Victor's jacket—which wasn't entirely unpleasant, but Yuri didn't want to think about that now. He strained his ears to catch the sounds of reporters taking pictures, people gossiping, and anything else that could further humiliate him. But all he heard was Victor's recurrent footsteps on one side, and on the other, his vigorous heartbeat. Or… Was that actually Yuri's own heartbeat that was drumming in his ears? He couldn't distinguish one from the other.
Before he could speculate on that further, he was gently placed down in the backseat of the taxi. He almost whined at the sudden departure but caught himself just in time.
Victor circled around the vehicle and took a seat on the other side. He told the cab driver the name of the hotel, and they abruptly jolted into motion.
Yuri wanted to talk along the way, but he also didn't want to disrupt the comfortable silence.
Between the relaxed atmosphere and the gentle rocking of the car and the events of the day, Yuri found himself resting his eyes while leaning on the cool window of the taxi. He didn't allow himself to fully fall asleep but instead teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, knowing too well he'd have to be awake shortly to get things ready for tomorrow.
Sure enough, they pulled in front of the hotel moments later.
"Yuri, can you walk up to the room?"
The question caught Yuri off guard. He felt immeasurably better compared to before, but instead of simply telling Victor that he could now manage, the words that ended up coming out of his mouth were: "No, I don't think so."
Victor smiled, but now Yuri felt guilty. Before, it had been the truth, but now, it was a lie. A little white lie… but a lie nonetheless. He could easily correct the facts—tell Victor he misspoke and move on—but something kept him quiet.
"Okay then. I'll send the luggage up and be back in a second." Victor stepped out of the car and retrieved the duffle bags of equipment from the trunk, walking into the lobby to deliver them to the hotel staff.
While Yuri waited anxiously for his coach to return, his mind berated him: You idiot! Just tell him your fine now. It's bad enough that he had to carry you out of the arena! Why didn't you just tell him the truth anyway? Just tell Victor—
"Ready?"
"Huh?"
Before his mind had time to register it, Yuri was once again in Victor's arms. When had he opened the door?
The taxi drove away into the night, and the two were left all alone in front of the garishly lit hotel entrance. They hadn't moved an inch yet, and Yuri thought this was the perfect chance to set the record straight.
"Um… Victor?" Yuri started. He watched Victor gradually direct his gaze down onto him. Something about his eyes betrayed his emotions, but Yuri couldn't put a finger on exactly what emotions were being currently being betrayed. He looked very soft and loving with the lighting behind him, but Yuri thought that couldn't be right. He tried to force out his explanation, but it never came. The words drowned in the deep blue of Victor's eyes.
"Yes?" Victor baited after a moment, realizing Yuri wasn't in a hurry to finish his inquiry.
Yuri seemed startled to Victor, which puzzled him. "Oh… It's nothing. Never mind."
Victor was deeply skeptical, not wanting to accept this as a final answer, but he decided not to press further. "Then, let's go." With that, he turned around and headed into the lobby.
It suddenly occurred to Yuri that he was once again in this compromising position. He lowered his head, remembering too late that all of the ice skaters stayed at the same hotel and that the probability of one seeing him like this was disturbingly high.
Again, he kept an ear out for anything suspicious, prepared to deny everything and immediately engage damage control mode, but once again, no such event happened.
Within a minute, Victor had entered the elevator and tapped their floor number, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world as the doors slid closed.
"Doing okay?" he inquired, but it was almost entirely a joke based on his playful expression. He shifted Yuri in his arms, probably feeling a bit sore himself from carrying his student around all evening, but not tired enough to not let his hands wander…
Yuri squeaked. "J-just fine, thank you!" He wanted to ask whether the fondling had been accidental or not, but he was terrified of the answer.
Victor chuckled, and Yuri's face colored for what had to be the millionth time that day. He could feel Victor's reverberations due to their close proximity, which only made his blush worsen. Not finding the appropriate words, Yuri ended up nestling into Victor more in a futile attempt to hide his face. Victor misread this and reciprocated by lightly running his fingers appreciatively on Yuri's upper thigh.
That didn't exactly deescalate the situation.
Before things could get anymore complicated, the elevator doors opened at last, and Victor made his way down the hall to their rooms.
They had joint rooms—two rooms next to each other that could be opened in the middle freely.
Victor struggled to take his room key out of his pocket while still supporting Yuri's weight. He did manage it though, but actually opening the door would prove to be trickier.
"Hold on, Yuri," Victor instructed, gesturing to his neck by lightly tilting his head.
Yuri got the message, and without much thought, reached up to wrap his arms tightly around his coach. To his horror—or perhaps pleasure—Yuri's head tucked securely into Victor's neck, and his lips, in turn, were pressed directly onto the man's pulse.
But Victor didn't have time to think about that.
Now, with the bulk of Yuri's weight being supported by the young man himself, he nearly effortlessly swiped the card key, allowing the door to swing open.
"We're home~!" Victor teased, but Yuri was having a hard time paying attention. Even so, he didn't take Yuri's silence as offense and sauntered into the room, closing the door behind them.
Within the next moment, Yuri was carefully deposited on his bed, Victor disappearing around the corner immediately after the fact.
That's when Yuri heard the water running.
Immediately, all kinds of images flooded Yuri's mind.
"Since your muscles are sore, I'm going to run you a bath!" Victor called from the bathroom, his voice echoing somewhat over the tile. "Just wait there, okay?"
Yuri wondered for a moment if Victor was being cheeky, seeing how the other was under the impression that he could hardly move at all, but somehow, Yuri couldn't imagine even for a second that Victor could be anything less than one hundred percent genuine.
With that thought banished from his mind, the younger man opened his mouth to protest, but he could manage a single utterance. It's like he had lost the entirety of the English language within an instant, draining entirely from his mind like lucid water melted from previously well formed ice. He flopped onto the bed with a melodramatic thump, muttering, "くそ"* into the mattress.
Could things get anymore embarrassing?
"Yuri~! I'm going to come undress you!"
Suddenly, Yuri had the words again. The water had frozen back into ice.
"Wait, I'm fine now!" He sprung up from the bed, limping across the room with renewed motivation pushing his aching muscles into action. Even so, he mumbled "テテテ"* with each step under his breath as he made it to the bathroom.
Victor turned from the bath to face him. "Clearly not," he deduced. He didn't have to say anything more. It was obvious from Yuri's gimpy walk and his pained expression and Japanese griping that he was not, as Yuri had said himself "fine now."
Yuri refused to meet his gaze. "I can handle this part, okay?" It was a very uncertain sentence said in a very certain way.
Victor studied him. "All right," he agreed—though it was never truly a question. Without another word, he strode out of the bathroom, presumably to go prepare things for tomorrow.
Yuri sighed to no one in particular. Why did he feel so bad all of the sudden?
It's because you snapped at him for helping you, idiot.
Yeah… That was probably it.
Whatever the case—and that was most certainly the case—Yuri decided he'd apologize after the bath. He stripped off his jacket, then the shirt, then the pants, and well… the rest. They laid in a heap on the floor, but Yuri supposed he could collect them later.
No matter how "fine" he was, he was indeed still sore, and he wondered bitterly if Victor would consider coming back and helping him before both his pride and his shame came to squash that idea.
He stepped into the bath and sunk into warm water until it engulfed him all the way up to his chin.
Ah… How relaxing.
"Yuri~! I'm back!"
Yuri floundered a bit in the water, taken by surprise. He looked up to meet the exceedingly kind face of his coach.
"Wh-wh-why are you back?" Yuri sputtered, curling himself up under the water as tight as he could.
Victor blinked innocently at him. "What do you mean? I thought this is what we agreed to." He got down on his knees beside the bath so he was level with Yuri's sightline. "You said you could handle the last part. But I'm here for the next part!"
"'Next part'?" Yuri was afraid to ask. His mind didn't need any help conjuring ideas.
Victor nodded. "I'll help you wash up now." He considered something for a moment, and then his expression visibly brightened. "Oh, I know! I'll join you! This bath is big enough for the both of us. Then, it'll be much easier to help you."
Yuri barely had a second of time to look away while Victor threw off all his clothes—he was efficient at that after all, considering the incident at the restaurant the other night—and stepped into the bath, completely submerging himself and reappearing at the surface with soap in hand.
"Hand me your arm, Yuri," he gently directed, holding out his hand.
Yuri stared at the hand, weighing his increasingly limited options. Well… He was already here and offering, so he couldn't see what he had to lose.
He placed his hand gingerly in Victor's.
Victor immediately went to work running the soap over him, drawing careful circles on his skin and leaving snowflake-like residue. He was being very methodical about it and—Yuri thought—purposefully deliberate.
As he made his way up Yuri's arm to his shoulder blade, the familiar blushing sensation begin to creep in.
Why am I so flustered by this? he wondered absentmindedly, mesmerized by Victor's motions. We did something similar to this every day in the hot springs. But somehow, that was different. He thought about the apparent differences. Well, for one thing, that was public. But here, we're alone. He then considered the short amount of distance between them. Their legs were almost overlapping. The blush intensified. And very close.
"Is it too hot?"
"What?" Yuri jumped, his hand slipping out of Victor's grasp and plummeting into the water.
Victor knew he'd heard him, but he repeated regardless, "The water. Is it too hot?"
"Not at all," Yuri insisted. To corroborate his statement, he added, "It's perfect, actually," hoping that would quell Victor's concern.
Victor reached up and tucked his long, wet bangs behind his ear. "I'm glad. Now, give me your other arm."
"Oh… Right." Yuri did as he was told.
When Victor was done with that arm, he abruptly reached for one of Yuri's legs under the water. Yuri had to slam his hands down on the bottom of the tub in order to not be capsized completely, as he was suddenly off-balance with one of his legs being held captive by Victor's grip.
This time, Victor's meticulous work wasn't so pleasant.
Yuri couldn't hold back a wince.
"Sorry. It's sore, right?" Victor surmised. He placed the soap down and leaned back against the opposite side of the bath, still keeping Yuri's leg firmly in grasp.
"What are you—?"
The question didn't matter. In fact, nothing mattered. Because Victor had began messaging his foot.
A positively orgasmic moan escaped Yuri's lips.
"о боже мой."*
From either the moan or the accidental Russian or a combination of the two, Victor began to laugh. He looked like he was trying really hard not to—supposedly trying to spare the younger man's feelings—but he couldn't contain it.
Yuri wished the earth could swallow him up right then and there.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Victor was still laughing—on the verge of crying even—but his tone was sincere. "Here, give me your leg again. I'll finish the message if you want." He lowered his eyelids suggestively. "You seemed to like it."
Yuri was—quite literally—putting his foot down. "No, thankyou," he managed to force out through layers of humiliation. "I've already had quite enough."
Victor's mouth was betraying him, threatening to break out into bout of laughter, but he cleared his throat, recognizing that Yuri wouldn't appreciate it. "Well then," he transitioned, "at least turn around so I can get your hair."
This suggestion bode well with Yuri, as that meant he wouldn't have to face Victor for a while.
He did as instructed, tilting his head back a little to allow Victor easier access. Within a moment, Victor's fingers were combing through his hair, froth from the shampoo dipping gradually down his neck and back.
When Victor was done with the back, he inched closer to Yuri to reach the front.
The distance between them abruptly vanished.
Before Yuri could address this new sensation, Victor cut in with possibly the only thing that could undermine the moment:
"You know, I was very proud of you today, Yuri."
"O-oh? You were?" His voice was very shrill, but he balled his fists, trying to fight the exceedingly mounting urge to either to flee the scene or beg Victor to ravish him. "Why?"
Victor stopped sharply, his hands left tangled in Yuri's hair, motionless. "'Why'?" he repeated. "Isn't it obvious? You have discovered your true potential as a skater, and thus, it has provided you with incredible results."
"Oh… Right." With everything that had happened that afternoon, he'd almost forgotten.
To Yuri's great relief, Victor resumed. "'Why,' he asks," the Russian muttered as he finished shampooing the other's hair. This time, it was Yuri's turn to laugh a little.
"Look, I just wasn't thinking about it," Yuri tried to excuse away, looking down at his reflection in the bath water.
"Hmm, that's strange," Victor murmured, gently pouring water over Yuri's head. "I was under the impression that you have a problem with pressure and often let it get to you during competitions."
Yuri was instantly defensive. "I do! Well… I did. You've just been…" He searched for the appropriate word. "… distracting me today."
Victor perked curiously at that. He didn't say anything though, standing up without any warning and retrieving a towel for himself. Clearly contemplating the implications of what his student had said, he distractedly handed Yuri a towel as well. Yuri took it but stared apprehensively at Victor as he did, wondering what he could be concocting in that head of his.
The two departed the bathroom together.
"I've got it!" Victor interjected suddenly, making the other jolt.
"Got what?" Yuri inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. He was always at a loss regarding the complex interworkings of Victor's mind.
Victor grinned at him. "You said that you weren't thinking about the competition because I distracted you." Yes, Yuri was following the logic thus far. "So, if I distract you even further, you won't let any of the pressure get to you tomorrow!"
Yuri understood, but he didn't get it. He knew what Victor was going for, but he didn't have the faintest idea what he was planning.
Luckily, he didn't have to speculate much longer.
In one smooth maneuver, Victor swept Yuri off balance, leaning him back but supporting him with a hand behind his back, and pressed his lips to Yuri's.
Everything went blank.
For the faintest of moments, Victor deepened the kiss. Yuri reciprocated eagerly, desperate to make it last. But the second he felt his affections being returned, Victor consciously pulled away, garnering an indistinct whimper from Yuri.
"Well, see you tomorrow!" Victor called behind him elatedly, closing the door that connected their rooms with purposeful meaning. The sound of the lock followed, the noise resonating throughout the room.
Yuri stared, wide-eyed and agape at the exact spot that Victor had occupied only mere seconds ago. Once the experience processed properly in his brain, he threw himself onto the bed, ignoring the strain of his muscles.
Well, if there was one thing for sure, Yuri thought as he stared up at the hotel ceiling, it was that, now, he had plenty of distraction.
Author's Note:
*1: The beginning of "nani"—"what" in Japanese.
*2: "Kuso"—"damn/shit" equivalent in Japanese.
*3: "tetete"—"ow, ow, ow" equivalent in Japanese.
*4: "Oh my god" in Russian.
That took awhile to write... But it was so worth it! I hope you enjoyed it, and please review if you can! Maybe I'll continue this in future weeks between episodes... Who knows?