Chapter 10
Yuuri swirled the champagne around his tall glass, watching the pale golden bubbles rise to the surface and delicately pop with dull, disinterested eyes. His chin sat heavily in his palm, ignoring the party around him.
Fourth.
He'd finished fourth at Skate Canada.
Never mind a gold - Yuuri hadn't gotten any kind of medal whatsoever for Victor, missing out on the podium altogether thanks to his dismal free skate plummeting his overall score! He'd flopped on everything; he'd flubbed his jumps, his spins were sloppy - even his usually easy dance elements had been stiff and lack luster. He hadn't been in his performance at all and it had showed in a score that pinched at Yuuri's heart just thinking about.
He just wanted to hide in his hotel room, crawl under the covers and pretend the outside world didn't exist until his flight back to Bangkok - but of course, Celestino wouldn't let him be so lucky! Honestly, he wasn't even sure why J.J had invited him to his wedding in the first place. It wasn't like they were friends … were they?
The ballroom was grand and ostentatious for the reception - nothing short of what Yuuri would expect of the Canadian skater. Glamourous silk drapes lined the room and delicate fairy lights twinkled overhead like stars. J.J's band played on the stage, toasting the new bride and groom for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Yuuri's face twisted in a grimace, eyes falling back to the pristine table cloth beneath his glass; he wondered how long Celestino would make him stay there before he'd be able to slink away unnoticed.
Yuuri wasn't in the mood for dancing. He just sat in the corner of the ballroom with his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, listening to the music from the dance floor with dull ears and swirling the champagne in his glass to try and distract him from the depths of his own thoughts. It didn't work so well. Replays of his humiliating free skate painting a scorching burn across his cheeks and Yuuri fought the urge to just bury his face in his hands and cry .
The champagne glass stilled in his hand. Yuuri tipped it up to his mouth instead. Maybe a drink or two would help him forget.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Yuuri nearly choked.
He blinked up a fraction of a second before his brain registered the Russian accent, champagne glass pausing at his lips.
Victor Nikiforov smiled down at him. He looked just as perfect as ever, dressed in an immaculate black suit that cut sharp lines down his body and intriguing angles that made Yuuri's mouth water. A blood red tie sat at the base of his throat. Yuuri wasn't sure if it was just him or the effect of the bold tie and pocket square, but he thought Victor looked a little paler than when he'd last seen him.
Yuuri felt his heart drop into his stomach, crude swearing bloomed fluently through his head. Victor was here . He hadn't even thought …
Yuuri set his glass back down on the table with scarlet cheeks and heart pounding solidly in his chest, hoping Victor didn't notice the way his hand trembled slightly. Every thud behind his rib cage made Yuuri wish the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
He knew he was staring. He could feel it, but he also couldn't stop. He hadn't been prepared to see Victor here, though he guessed he shouldn't be all that surprised. A handful of other skaters were lurking on the dance floor somewhere, and Yuuri guessed that Victor must have spent more than enough Grand Prix finals with the Canadian to be more worthy of an invite than Yuuri was.
It still didn't quite prepare him for the panic that hit him though, seeing Victor Nikiforov stood right there in front of him. Yuuri's mouth ran dry. What was he supposed to say ?
Victor's lips quirked in a quick smile that didn't reach his eyes, a touch of pink grazing his cheeks. It was so pretty, Yuuri felt his heart skip a beat. His jaw was hanging open. How long had he been gawking? Had Victor noticed? He snapped it shut with the clack of teeth, praying Victor hadn't noticed. The return of the smile said otherwise though.
"Hi."
It was simple. It was polite. It gave nothing away.
Yuuri swallowed stiffly, gaze dropping down to the knot of Victor's tie. He watched Victor's Adam's apple bob with avid fascination. "Hi."
Go away , he willed in the back of his head. He wasn't ready for this. Not right after the disaster of Skate Canada and the emotional tidal wave that came with it. Everything was a mad jumble in his head; all rage, and love, and pain. Victor must hate him. He must do, after that free skate performance in America. And after that phone call… god, why had Yuuri just hung up like that? But then, why had he called Victor in the first place instead of Phichit? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Yuuri wanted to just clamp his hands over his ears and scream until he woke up from this nightmare he was obviously stuck in-
"Would you like to dance?"
The nightmare didn't end.
Yuuri felt the blood leave his face as he glanced up - just in time to catch the glitter of vulnerability that darted through the Russian's gaze. He looked tired, splashes of sea green in his irises slightly duller than Yuuri remembered. Something clenched in Yuuri's chest as he noticed - hard.
How could he say no? Yurio's narrowing green eyes watching their every move from across the dance floor reminded him that he couldn't.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yuuri nodded.
His legs felt like jelly when he stood - just like they had at his free skate. He hadn't been able to shake Victor off his mind then either.
Victor offered out his hand. Yuuri hesitated for only a moment before he took it. The Russian's fingers were warm and firm around his as they pulled him gently forward towards the dance floor, a warm smile pressing into Victor's handsome features. He didn't turn around. Victor stepped back with careful, deliberate steps, his eyes not leaving Yuuri's for a second as Yuuri followed with less than graceful strides. Suddenly, remembering how to put one foot in front of the other was the most complicated thing in the world. Victor's bright smile was too distracting.
A slow dance struck up from the stage and Yuuri groaned in the back of his head; it was like the universe was working against him, throwing Victor back into his life at theworst possible moment in the most awkward possible way . Fourth place wasn't how he'd wanted to reconcile things with Victor - if they could be reconciled at all! If Victor really did hate Yuuri, then it was all over...
The thought was sickening. Yuuri went numb as Victor stopped on the outskirts of the crowd of swaying couples on the dance floor and pulled him close, hand tightening around his and his other one winding feather light around Yuuri's waist, settling on the small of his back. Yuuri's body bowed instinctively under the touch. His chest pressed against Victor's as they drew close, Yuuri's spare arm slotting against the back of Victor's shoulder blade and fingers anxiously curling behind the Russian's back. Victor wouldn't be able to feel the nervous twist of his fingers, would he?
If he minded, he didn't say anything, lips hovering by Yuuri's ear. The shaky tingles of his exhale sent shivers down Yuuri's spine.
"Congratulations on your gold," he finally managed to say to Victor's shoulder, while he still had the presence of mind to remember himself.
He felt Victor's cheek shift as he smiled.
"Thank you." His voice was smooth like warm honey, accent rolling every syllable deliciously. "What did you think?"
What did Yuuri think?
Beautiful. Perfect. Flawless. That was what Yuuri thought – not that he could say any of them out loud, of course. Not to Victor. Instead, he just cleared his throat, swallowing the words bitterly.
Cheek angling away from Victor's, Yuuri prayed the Russian couldn't feel the heat rolling off his face, couldn't feel the mad career of his heart in his rib cage against his sternum. Why did Victor have to say things like that? Exs shouldn't be allowed to say things like that, especially with Victor's naturally alluring accent.
"Good."
Victor's head tilted. "Just good?"
Yuuri felt a jolt run through him, hearing the amused smirk in the Russian's voice. Victor wasn't doing anything to help his composure.
He didn't know what to say. Of course, it was more than good. A thousand words bloomed inside his head to describe Victor's seductive routine, but Yuuri couldn't remember how to say any of them in English, tongue knotting awkwardly. Why did Victor care anyway? He hated Yuuri, right? Emotions crashed inside Yuuri like a rising tide as Victor's free skate replayed over again and again on torturous loop inside his head, scrambling for an answer.
"Yurio told me about your short programme." He finally settled on instead, twisting the subject. Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut, every word punching the air a little more out of his lungs. "The Sochi banquet, right? Apparently I… we… I mean, I don't remem-"
"It's okay." Victor cut off calmly. "I didn't expect you to."
Yuuri felt the Russian's sigh more than he heard it, the slow deflate of his chest making him want to sink away into the floor and never re-emerge. Why couldn't Victor just shout at him and get it over with? It would be so easier than this mocking, this toying with him. He didn't have to pretend to be nice to Yuuri. Surely they both knew they were past that after Victor had skated his hate in front of the entire world.
Still, Yuuri frowned. Still, he pushed his luck. "Then why…"
" I still remember."
It still matters to me, went unsaid. Yuuri still heard the unspoken words echo in his head in a mournful Russian tone anyway.
He didn't know what to say.
"I watched you too."
This time, Yuuri really did groan, not quick enough to hold it back from spilling from his lips. His forehead dropped down to Victor's shoulder. "You saw that?" Dammit.
Victor hummed a chuckle. "Yeah."
It wasn't something Yuuri found funny. He tried to focus on the smooth material of Victor's jacket instead of the sickening twist in his gut. The fine threadbare of the suit only barely snagged on his cheeks, still rough from crying in his hotel room earlier. It was bad enough he'd flaked in his free skate - it was even worse that Victor had seen it. If he didn't place well at his next competition, he might not even qualify for the final.
His steps faltered beneath him at the thought and Yuuri felt Victor pause too, arms tightening around him. Couples bumped against their shoulders. Victor mumbled apologies.
Shame burned through Yuuri, hot and crushing. He couldn't skate, and now he couldn't dance either. His chest felt like a vacuum, like his ribs were collapsing in on themselves and stabbing mercilessly through his heart, blood choking through his veins too hot and too fast. Could Victor tell? His fingers squeezed tighter around Yuuri's, trying to guide him back into the sway of the music as he pulled him flush against his torso.
To stop him bumping into people of course, Yuuri told himself, swallowing the solid lump in his throat. So he wouldn't make a scene. Why else would he want to be pressed against a loser like Yuuri for otherwise?
The hand behind Victor's back clenched into a fist, fingernails digging crescent marks into his skin to try and distract himself from the warmth of Victor's arms around him. He was just being polite, dancing with Yuuri. Polite to a fellow competitor. Maybe Victor felt sorry for him after seeing his free skate. Maybe he just wanted to remind himself how much better his new boyfriend was compared to his old one. So many maybes, but really Yuuri had no idea what was going on in Victor's head, what the firm press of the Russian's hand into the small of his back meant.
Victor's face tilted, lips brushing Yuuri's ear. "Your short programme was amazing." he sighed, making Yuuri melt. "Yakov had to hold me back from throwing myself at you."
Yuuri didn't have any more space in his blood vessels to blush any deeper, a choked off noise catching in his throat. He scrunched his eyes shut tighter against the Russian's shoulder, wishing he would stop talking. It wasn't fair.
Then - "You were there?" Yuuri frowned, head lifting.
Yuuri wracked his brain, trying to remember seeing a glimpse of silver hair and cerulean eyes at the Skate Canada arena. That was what Victor had implied, right? That he was there, not just watching through the TV screen. Yuuri hadn't misheard him.
He connected the dots a few seconds later though, excitement falling. "Oh," his head dropped back down to Victor's shoulder. As if Victor would come and watch him skate… "Of course. Yurio-"
"No, Yuuri."
Victor's arm slacked around his waist, peeling their bodies apart a few precious inches. Yuuri's head straightened off Victor's shoulder as he pulled back, intense blue eyes catching his confused gaze effortlessly. He forgot how to breathe.
"I came for you."
Every word was clear and crisp. No room for error or misunderstanding. Even Yuuri's anxiety couldn't twist that - though it didn't stop it from trying. A joke , it said, growling in the back of Yuuri's head.
The glow in Victor's eyes wasn't joking though. It was deadly serious - firm and strong with resolve, but a tender glitter shimmering the layers of crystal blue like a diamond. Yuuri didn't dare try and put a name to it. All he knew was that it wasn't hatred. The realisation struck him harder than he was prepared for, gasping embarrassingly loud.
He felt his hands start to tremble. "I'm sorry for wasting your trip."
They had stopped moving.
"How would you feel, if I told you I loved you?"
The song still rolled over the dance floor - soft and loving - and Yuuri leant subconsciously deeper into Victor's arms, lost in the Russian's mesmerising eyes. It should be illegal to have eyes like that.
" It's just something that I want to do…"
A finger dragged gently down the side of Yuuri's cheek, hooking under his chin while the pad of Victor's thumb brushed softly over his lower lip.
"You tend to flub your jumps when there is something on your mind." Victor's voice was so soft, Yuuri thought he'd imagined it until he saw Victor's lips move. "Care to share?"
Yuuri shuddered.
"I'll be taking my time, spending my life..."
Yuuri felt his lips move but he didn't hear the sound that came out of them. All he heard was the blood drumming in his ears, the rapid pulse pounding through his system. His mind went blank. He couldn't think.
He saw Victor's reaction though, heart skipping a beat in response - the Russian's breath visibly hitched, hands tightening around Yuuri.
What the hell had he said?
" Falling deeper in love with you…"
Victor's chest pressed solid against Yuuri's, and Yuuri wasn't sure who the racing heartbeat running between them belonged to anymore. He could taste the sweet champagne on Victor's breath. A hand ran smoothly from his waist to the backs of his shoulder blades, arm strong and fingers soft. The tips of Victor's silver bangs tickled at Yuuri's cheek and Yuuri uncurled his fist behind Victor to smooth his palm against the Russian's hip, anchoring himself to reality.
One glimpse of those molten aquamarine eyes though, and he was lost again. His mind swam, a mile high from his body. The rest of him sank further into Victor's embrace. He couldn't help himself.
Victor was… well, Victor. Beautiful and talented; everything Yuuri had imagined perfection to look like only he hadn't seemed to realise it before that moment, until it was a hairsbreadth away and he was dancing in its arms. It was like he'd been blind for his whole life until the moment Victor's forehead touched against his, drowning his vision in every shade of blue. Yuuri never wanted to resurface.
"So tell me that you love me too."
All he would need to do was angle his mouth just a fraction, Yuuri couldn't help but think. One tiny little shift and he could have Victor's lips on his, close that last little bit of distance between them…
Every cell in his body was itching to surge forward. Eyes hooded in want, drunk on the champagne on Victor's breath, and lost in the blue swirl of the Russian's eyes, Yuuri engraved every inch of the moment to memory. He had no idea what was happening, what would happen. All he knew was that - somehow - the tight twisting knot inside his chest wasn't choking him anymore. The nagging voice in the back of his head was silent. Victor swamped his senses; he overwhelming him, lifting a spark across every square millimetre their bare skin touched.
Victor sucked in a shaky breath and Yuuri held his, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine as the Russian's eyes fluttered shut. This was it , Yuuri thought breathlessly. Victor was going to kiss him.
Yuuri's brain shut down. He stopped thinking, listening to the thrum of his heart in his chest and watching the tiny crease press between Victor's eyebrows, fighting his desire. Yuuri wished he wouldn't. All he wanted in that moment was to feel Victor's firm body press against his, for the Russian to lose his exhale against Yuuri's lips.
It never came.
Fingers closed around Yuuri's upper arms tight enough to bruise and Yuuri blinked up, eyes wide with surprise. Victor's head was bowed, silver bangs hanging low over his face.
He swore in Russian, breathless. "I'm sorry."
What?
Yuuri swayed as Victor's hands brushed off him.
His eyes were wide and stunned, blinking dumbly as his brain tried to catch up. The air shifted in front of him. Before he'd finished his next blink, Yuuri was alone on the dance floor, staring at empty air in front of him where Victor had stood less than half a second ago. Still his mind lagged behind, confused.
His neck clicked as his head turned; he caught the briefest flash of silver before it disappeared, ballroom door closing firmly behind it.
Cold washed over Yuuri, cruel and merciless. It splashed the blush off his cheeks and numbed the sensitive parts of his body where Victor had touched him, erasing all trace of the drunken buzz that had hummed through his system. Nausea curled in his stomach and Yuuri felt the very solid thwack of his heart as it dropped out of his chest, blinking back to the dancefloor around him. His mouth hung open, still waiting to be kissed. What had happened?
It was obvious what had happened, a curt voice from the back of his head chimed in. Yuuri visibly flinched. Victor had walked away from him - there wasn't much of a clearer message than that to show the younger skater exactly how the Russian felt about him. Yuuri's fists curled at his side, feeling the air catch in his throat.
Victor hated him.
It was like a punch to the gut.
Suddenly, waiting for Celestino didn't matter - Yuuri had to go. He couldn't stay there any longer, couldn't bear the frowning looks other dancers were casting him over the partner's shoulders.
Sure he'd been prepared for the Russian to hate him, but it was something else entirely actually having Victor walk away from him, leaving him with empty arms and a chill on his lips from where their breaths had mingled. It was like the worst pain imaginable. It weighed heavy on his shoulders and glued his shoes to the floor. How would he ever skate again? He couldn't even move off the dance floor. Shame burned from every angle and Yuuri bowed his head, avoiding the concerned gazes glancing his way. He didn't want to see, didn't want to be reminded of his rejection.
One pair of sharp green eyes wasn't going to give him an easy escape though. Yuuri swore under his breath.
Yurio's head jerked to the door, eyes flashing with deadly warning. Follow him, he mouthed across the dance floor, still swaying flawlessly with Otabek like nothing was happening. The tense, white knuckles around the Kazakhstan's hand betrayed him though.
Yuuri took a step back, nearly tripping over himself as his body refused to work the way his mind wanted it to. Dammit. He knew he didn't have a choice. Somehow, he was leaving that ballroom. He could either walk out the ballroom himself or Yurio would throw him out, bruising the rest of his body to match that of his battered heart. It was no less than he deserved. His heart hammered. Sweaty hands straightened his tie in what he hoped looked like a casual gesture and his breaths felt too loud as he turned, echoing embarrassingly in his ears. Yuuri forced himself to go anyway.
Victor's fist slammed into the wall, pain radiating dully up his forearm. He barely noticed it; the anger was back.
It flooded through him - red hot and potent – firing through his bloodstream in an uncontrollable blaze that would surely disintegrate his heart into ashes at this rate. Only it didn't. It beat on torturously through the blaze, every thump fuelling the fire into something even more potent that scorched through Victor's system like it would burn him up from the inside with bitterness.
The fingers of his spare hand raked through his silver locks. They were far from steady. He'd been so close to kissing Yuuri back in the ballroom, so close to ruining everything…
The knuckles of his fist were white as he braced his forearm against the wall of the hotel's corridor, thanking his lucky stars that everybody was still inside the ballroom enjoying the party instead of out there loitering. He needed the space. He needed the silence.
It was too silent.
It had taken him so long to dull the rage into something bearable, months passing before he could look at his own reflection without wanting to punch the mirror. It was all his fault, after all; the reason Yuuri had crashed in the first place, the reason Yuuri had left for Thailand, the reason Yuuri had hurt so much and lost so much… all Victor's fault. Because he was a failure as a coach and as a man. He'd let Yuuri down and driven him away again. Victor hadn't thought it could get worse than after the Sochi banquet when Yuuri hadn't called, but he'd been wrong.
So, so wrong.
It was so much worse.
Instead of the numbness he'd expected from the solitude was emotions. In every shape and form. Rage, love, pain, longing … all jumbled up inside Victor, until he felt like he was going to explode. Rage was always at the forefront of everything, blaming himself for what happened endlessly. He'd channeled it the only way he'd known how - on the ice.
He hadn't been prepared for the fact that Yuuri might actually watch it. What must he possibly think of Victor? Seeing his own moves splattered across Victor's routine… it was the biggest insult Victor could have done.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood suddenly on end. A chill rolling down his spine.
He felt Yuuri's presence behind him more than he heard it.
Sucking in a deep breath, Victor swallowed his pride. "I'm sorry, Yuuri," he choked, voice wavering. "It's not your fault I know, but… I just don't know what to do with all these things you make me feel yet." A dry chuckle clashed with a gasp and Victor's head hung in bitter shame, humourless smile curling his lips. He had to try... "It's so confusing. How do you bear it?"
Silence answered him.
Victor's head just shook.
He'd blown it. He'd already known it would end in bitter disappointment from the moment Yurio had shoved him to go and ask Yuuri to dance, but he'd done it anyway. It was Yuuri. He couldn't resist.
And that had almost been his undoing on the dancefloor. Yuuri's mouth had just looked so tempting, lips parted perfectly and soft, hooded eyes gleaming ' kiss me, Victor'. It wasn't real, of course. Victor knew he was just seeing what he wanted to see, convincing himself that the pretty red smattered over Yuuri's cheeks was from his adorable blush rather than from held back anger, to save his fragile heart.
"I'm sorry."
The words echoed around the corridor and Victor's heart clenched, fist tightening. He resented the ache in Yuuri's voice, that he was apologising for Victor's shortcomings.
"I went too far." Yuuri went on, faster - like he was nervous. "I didn't-"
"Please … don't."
Something cracked.
Victor practically heard the hard snap of his heart breaking in his chest, but he pushed himself up off the wall regardless, turning on his heel. He couldn't bear it after all. Yuuriapologising for the almost-kiss , like it was his fault… it gleamed from his round brown eyes across the corridor, and Victor had to battle down the urge to just gasp at how breathtaking they were.
His memory hadn't done Yuuri justice. The real deal was so much more complex, so hard and so soft at the same time, where his body knew exactly what it wanted - slotting into Victor's arms effortlessly - while his mind fought for something else no doubt a little more rational. His dark hair was longer than Victor remembered, still combed back nicely from his face and a new tie knotted at the base of his neck, lying slightly off centre on his chest. It wasn't the one Victor had bought him. Perhaps a new beau had gifted it instead. Yuuri must have hundreds of men throwing themselves down for him.
In that moment though, it didn't matter. Yuuri was his in that corridor for those few precious minutes, eyes only for Victor.
Victor's head shook once, jaw tensing. "Don't apologise."
He never wanted that.
For a moment, Yuuri said nothing.
His jaw hung open, seemingly lost for words. When he found them again, the best he could summon was - "But your boyfriend-"
Victor made a soft choking sound at the word.
"You believed all that stuff?" The Russian's lips quirked in the corner for a fraction of a second, watching Yuuri's eyes glow a fraction wider in surprise. His heart sank at the reaction. "I thought you of all people…" His eyebrows pinched together. "No, I guess... I guess you wouldn't…"
It came so naturally to think that Yuuri still knew him. That he was still a fan at least and someone who cared enough to know Victor's real from his fake at most. It always took him a second to remind himself that he was wrong though. Even eight months down the line, he still clung to his old Yuuri, to the idea that this was all just a bad dream and Yuuri's eyes would one day blink back in recognition, lip spread in a wide smile and apologise for the bad joke of pretending to forget him. He was still waiting though.
Yuuri's brow furrowed. He didn't understand.
The old Yuuri would have known, Victor thought, heart strings tugging. He would have seen through those phoney Instagram posts, mocking Yuuri to try and tempt him back.
It was petty and childish, Victor knew, but it wasn't the only reason he'd hooked up with all those guys. If Yuuri really was done with him then he had to believe there was somebody else out there for him, someone who could make him feel as Yuuri made him felt. None of them had so far though. It was all shallow and empty, routine kisses and publicity stunt dates. None of those other boyfriends had held a candle to Yuuri, couldn't make his heart skip a beat with a smile the way Yuuri could.
He didn't linger on it though. Yuuri wasn't smiling now, brow twisted in confusion and fingers playing anxiously at his sides.
Victor's heart weighed heavy in his chest. "Why did you call me?"
He had to ask. He had to know. That short phone call meant so much to Victor, had sparked such a hope inside him...he hadn't even realised it had been Yuuri that had called him until Yuuri had hung up with a squeak and Victor had checked the caller ID.
Yuuri paled in front of him, horror flooding through his round brown eyes. That wasn't a good sign, Victor couldn't help but think.
"It-it was an accident."
Victor swallowed hard, trying not to be disappointed.
"I don't even have your number saved in my phone anymore, so I don't know how …"
The air knocked out of Victor's lungs like someone had punched him - that one hurt. Not so much the fact that Yuuri didn't have his number - who kept their ex's phone numbers anyway? - though he was hardly happy about it. It was the anymore . The reminder that it had once been there and Yuuri had very deliberately deleted it since, had chosen cut Victor out of his life. That stung the most.
Victor's gaze dropped down to the corridor's carpet, analysing the soft polka dot pattern to try and distract himself from the sharp pain stabbing behind his ribs.
"Um, Victor… your short programme..."
Of course Yuuri would ask. Victor's lips quirked in a sad smile as the memories flooded back to him, the old Yuuri bolt, and confident, and drunk, seducing him effortlessly in a hot mess. How could Victor have done anything but fall for Yuuri Katsuki that night?
The words stuck in Victor's throat when he tried to say them though, thumb pressing into the inside of his ring finger, over the ghost of his connection with Yuuri. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to pull himself together. Slow, measured breaths passed through his lips. When he blinked up, Yuuri shrank at the intensity in his gaze.
"It's for you," he said bluntly. Honestly. "It's all for you. Everything."
The words spilled out fast, like Victor had been holding them in for so long and was just desperate to finally let them free. He hadn't realised just how true it was until then.
Why bother pretending anymore?
A shiver visibly ran through Yuuri. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, chest jolting with his sharp inhale. "And the free skate?"
Victor swore silently in his head. Teeth snagged his lower lip guiltily, catching his careless words before he could say them. He should have known that question was coming, the one he so desperately wanted to ignore.
The silence stretched out.
Yuuri didn't take it back, eyes still round and expectant.
Victor opened his mouth. And closed it again.
"I was angry," he finally said carefully. "I'm sorry. I…" Victor tipped his head back a fraction, silver bangs falling away from his honestly pained face and glittering gaze meeting Yuuri's. "I didn't know what to do with that feeling at the time so... I skated it." His shoulders lifted in a weak shrug, hands splayed to the sides. "It's all I've ever known."
He didn't expect Yuuri to understand. They'd never really talked about it before Yuuri's accident, something they'd never needed to delve into before while Yuuri had soothed every hurt instead of lift it to the surface.
Across the corridor, Yuuri blinked.
What was going through his head? Victor wondered. Those beautiful brown eyes looked stunned - shocked even! What had he been expecting?
Then Yuuri's eyebrows pinched in confusion.
It was mesmerizing, watching the myriad of emotions flitter across Yuuri's face. Confusion, bright-eyed wonder, doubt crushing the spark in his gaze...they moved so honestly over Yuuri's face that Victor couldn't help being so entranced.
He'd never wanted superpowers more than in that moment, ready to sell his soul to know what was going on behind those vulnerable chocolate orbs. He'd been prepared for anger - Victor had practically ripped off Yuuri's moves for his free skate, after all. Yakov had warned him, but it hadn't been until the competition had been over and the emotional haze had started to lift that Victor had really realised it for himself, understood that it wasn't as flattering for Yuuri as he'd first imagined it to be. It wasn't anger or irritation that met him though. It was something a lot more fragile than that, something softer that Victor couldn't quite place.
Until his leg dragged forward a step and Yuuri flinched.
Like he was scared.
The thought cut sharply through Victor's mind and he gasped. Where had that come from? As soon as he thought it though, he knew he wasn't wrong, heart constricting tightly in his chest. He didn't miss the way Yuuri's hand crossed protectively in front of him to play subconsciously with his fingers - his ring finger in particular. Just like Victor did when he was missing Yuuri. Victor swore in the back of his head. He was such an idiot.
He wanted to apologise. He wanted to bow politely like Yuuri knew from Japan and say sorry until it was the only word he remembered how to pronounce, until it was effortless in English, Japanese, Russian - whatever Yuuri wanted to hear! Whatever would ease the brutal cramp of his ribcage that he knew was choking Yuuri too.
Victor was scared too. He recognised that wary glint in Yuuri's eyes so well, remembered the way it sat so heavily on his heart when he'd worn the same expression watching Yuuri walk away from him. What was Yuuri afraid of?
Hands curled into fists at Victor's sides and Yuuri blurred slightly in front of him, eyes wet. He couldn't help it. He'd never thought of himself as a cruel person until now, until the raw consequences of his very conscious decisions was staring him in the face. Why had he skated that stupid routine? He really was an idiot. Yuuri's expression pinched with uncertainty. Victor had done that. The thought speared right through his heart.
Victor sucked in a shaky breath, taking a tentative step forward. Like he was scared of Yuuri's reaction. Those brown eyes shimmered dangerously. Victor had done that...
"You have no idea what you do to me..."
The words felt numb on Victor's lips, but he barely cared. He was just thankful Yuuri didn't turn and bolt when he took another step forward, drawn to the Japanese skater like he was being pulled on a thread. Yuuri was just irresistible, that perfect blush spilling over cheeks melting something inside Victor.
A choked off sound cut off in Yuuri's throat and Victor paused in the middle of the corridor. A tear slid over Yuuri's cheek. "Vitya, I..."
Victor stiffened instantly.
The words trailed off and after a hopeless moment, Yuuri's head just shook, sniffling softly. He looked so lost, so miserable…
The air hitched brokenly in Victor's throat. "What did you just call me?"
It was barely more than a whisper, but it still made Yuuri flinch. Victor could see the self-doubt flash in the younger skater's eyes, recognising the unconfident dash rush through Yuuri as he analysed every move he'd made in the last twenty four hours for what he'd done to trigger Victor's reaction.
He wouldn't figure it out, Victor knew, throat running dry helplessly. The confusion in Yuuri's eyes didn't lie. He hadn't realised he'd used Victor's affectionate nickname - the one that had never left the bedroom between them until then - rolling off his tongue so effortlessly. Again, Yuuri's body seemed to remember better than his mind did.
Desire hit Victor hot and hard, tingling every cell in his body alert to Yuuri. He was tuned in to every detail in front of him; the rebellious strands of hair that flopped sexily over Yuuri's face; the way he bit down onto his lower lip to keep himself silent; the nervous glint in his adorable brown eyes that deepened into something just a little darker as Victor visibly reacted to his words. His breaths picked up ever so slightly and Victor felt colour pool on his cheeks. He couldn't help it. Something in Yuuri still remembered him.
It was all he needed.
Yuuri barely had the presence of mind to blink at the quick succession of steps striding up the corridor towards him, glancing up just in time to see the molten swirl of aquamarine before lips pressed hard into his. Victor's eyes fluttered shut.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. Hands threaded through Yuuri's hair and Victor's mouth moved hungrily over his like he was desperate to feel every inch of Yuuri's lips, memorise them unreservedly. His tall, lithe body pressed against Yuuri's, the firm ridges of his muscular form slotting perfectly against the younger skater just as they had done on the dance floor, like they were made for nothing else but to fit into each other's arms.
Yuuri just blinked.
His mouth hung open in shock as Victor kissed him, tongue running along his lower lip but hesitating before he pushed in to tangle with Yuuri's. He could feel Yuuri's reservation.
Kissing Yuuri was a bad idea - Victor knew that.
It wasn't enough to stop him though.
Yuuri's whole body was stiff to the touch, wound tight like a spring and stood bolt straight like a plank of wood while Victor practically threw himself at him, all hot, messy and needy. He couldn't help himself. Yuuri had called up that private little nickname from the depths of his memory, had danced with him, had called him - even for a fleeting second…
Fingers twisted roughly in Yuuri's hair and the younger skater gasped on instinct, body bowing against the Russian unexpectedly. His groan was swallowed by Victor's eager lips.
It had to mean something, Victor told himself desperately. It had to.
It was overwhelming. It was perfect. The sight in front of him only served to shred his self control even more. There wasn't a speck of fear in Yuuri's expression anymore; eyes fluttered shut, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and lips sighing desperately in Victor's mouth … Yuuri was a picture of desire, lost in longing. He was in utter abandon.
A hand left Yuuri's hair and Yuuri whined brokenly at the loss until the long, slender fingers toyed at the tight fist at his side instead, teasing his fingers apart. Yuuri opened them instantly, threading them through Victor's.
He squeezed back. Hard.
Victor made a quiet, choked off sound in his throat - and this time it was Yuuri's turn to kiss the noise away. His lips pressed softly against Victor's, letting his eyes fall shut at last.
This was really happening.
Victor's heart hammered wildly in his chest as Yuuri's spare hand slid up to the cup the back of Victor's shoulder blade, fingers twisting in the fine material of Victor's suit to ground himself. The hand curled around his tightened a fraction, Victor clinging right back. It took Yuuri's breath away, body pressing instinctively into Victor for more contact.
The hand lost in Yuuri's hair trailed down to cup his cheek, and Victor's heart swelled at the warmth of Yuuri's flushed face against his skin. It felt so intimate, Yuuri's breath hitching. A gentle thumb brushed the lingering tear away from his cheek, Victor's mouth grazing off his for a breathless moment.
"Upstairs?" Victor gasped, voice thick. His forehead touched against Yuuri's, eyes still closed like he was afraid to open them, afraid to shatter the illusion. " Please."
Yuuri didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
"Say it again…"
" Vitya ."
Victor's arms tightened around Yuuri's waist and he made a happy crooning sound into the skin of Yuuri's chest, tangled together in the sheets of Victor's hotel room bed. Yuuri couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed.
The smile on his cheeks was so wide it hurt, reminding him of the other sore parts of his body in a way that brought the blush back to his cheeks. Victor was a very thoroughlover. It couldn't get any better than this, Yuuri couldn't help but think. With Victor in his arms - naked and beautiful - silver hair splayed out over the tanned skin of his pectoral muscles, and fireworks bursting in the distance outside the window, everything was perfect. Beyond perfect...
His arm tightened around Victor's shoulder, sighing into the warm length of Victor's body pressing into his side. "So Davide-"
"-broke up with me." Victor finished. "He thought I sounded annoying when I spoke Russian."
The skin on Yuuri's chest tingled as Victor's breath washed over him. The Russian's eyes were closed, silver eyelashes fanning prettily over his flushed cheeks. His face was relaxed, lips curved in a dreamy smile while his fingers played around the softer areas of Yuuri's lower stomach under the covers with a featherlight touch. It was only just not ticklish.
Yuuri frowned, head lifting a fraction off the pillow. "But you are Russian."
It escaped his understanding how anybody could possibly find Victor annoying in any shape or form - let alone his Russian in particular. His Russian was the best part. Hearing Victor's Russian had definitely … done things to Yuuri, sighed breathlessly in his ear while Yuuri had-
Victor just shrugged.
Yuuri's head thudded dully back onto the pillow.
"Makka didn't like him anyway."
A small smile pricked at Yuuri's lips; a possessive part of him was glad that Makkachin didn't like Victor's ex. "He liked Dimitri though..."
Victor chuckled, smiling into Yuuri's right pectoral. "Dimitri was a vet student! He was better with animals than people." His face scrunched up, nose crinkling in distaste. "Bad kisser. Just…" A shudder ran through him. " Eugh… "
"And the others?"
Delicate fingertips trailed up Yuuri's stomach, walking the faint line that marked the definition between his abdominal muscles. Glowing blue eyes followed them.
Blue, Yuuri thought, holding his breath as Victor's fingers traced over the swell of his left pectoral. Not a trace of the sea green that had always crept into the Russian's gaze when he was sad. Scattered shades of every colour of blue filled his irises like a thousand shattered crystals melting together, colours swirling beautifully. It was the most mesmerizing thing Yuuri had ever seen. Pale fingertips fanned out over where his heart lay and Yuuri's breath hitched softly. Could Victor feel how fast his pulse was racing?
He brushed the bangs back from Victor's face with slightly shaky fingers, trying to distract himself from the tightening pressure behind his ribcage.
Victor didn't help.
His molten blue gaze flickered up and Yuuri damn near forgot how to breath. A small smile tugged at the Russian's lips, fingers stilling over Yuuri's heart. "They weren't you."
Yuuri's exhale trembled. He had never planned this when he'd come to Canada. Losing his competition, reuniting with his ex at J.J's wedding, and then ending up in bed with that same said ex… Phichit was going to have a field day when he found out.
His phone was in the pocket of his dress trousers though, folded carefully on a chair across the room. It hadn't been a mad scramble to undress when they'd finally gotten to Victor's room, like Yuuri had seen in movies. It had been slow. Careful. Deliberate. Victor had paused at every new strip of skin exposed to him, caressing every inch of Yuuri like he was the most precious thing Victor had ever laid eyes on. Yuuri couldn't begin to describe how that feeling made his heart swell, blood pulsing through him thick and warm like honey in his veins.
It wasn't what Yuuri had been expecting. He thought he'd show his face at the reception for a few hours and disappear. He'd never imagined he'd be here, cradling Victor in his arms and ...feel so happy about it.
A flash of pink crawled over Victor's cheeks and his smile widened into something a little more mischievous, eyes sparkling. They flickered bashfully down to Yuuri's collarbone. "I wanted you to notice me." he admitted, colour darkening on his cheeks. "All those guys… I just wanted to make you jealous."
Oh.
The groan spilled from Yuuri's lips before he could help it, rumbling from his chest. God, the way Victor just said things like that…
Yuuri leaned down and brushed his lips lovingly over Victor's, heat grazing over his cheeks the second their mouths touched. He didn't care anymore. He just needed to be close to Victor, fingers resting over the pulse in the Russian's neck and heart skipping a beat feeling how quickly the blood pounded beneath his fingertips. Victor was just irresistible.
Yuuri smiled into the kiss, forehead leaning down to touch Victor's. "It worked."
His fingers reached up and tangled in Victor's hair and Yuuri let his instincts guide him as he turned his body to press his front flush against Victor's. A warm hand settled on his hip, holding him close.
He leaned back into the kiss, clinging to his composure as Victor sighed against his mouth. Something about the gesture just sent chills of anticipation down his spine, still tasting the faint tang of lust clinging to Victor's lips. The passionate haze was starting to lift. Reality nudged at the back of Yuuri's brain, reminding him that he was naked, and exposed, and in Victor's bed - but he forced himself to ignore it. Just for five more minutes.
"I don't know what happens after this." he confessed shyly, words murmured into Victor's palm that cupped his cheek. His face felt hot. "What do we normally do?"
Naked in another man's bed with limbs laced together was hardly a situation Yuuri was familiar with. Did he stay? Did he go? The warmth of Victor's embrace felt far too inviting to leave. It wasn't like sleeping together had been a rush of urges, pining hormones peaking. They weren't drunk. It wasn't a one night stand… was it?
He couldn't look at Victor's face, glancing down to pick at the fine details of his shoulder instead. Faint red marks in the shape of fingerprints lurked there. They would bruise by morning.
Victor just smiled, pressing one more firm kiss to Yuuri's lips before he flopped onto his back, lacing a lazy arm behind his head. "I don't know." he beamed up at the ceiling as Yuuri crawled into the space under his arm, laying his head down on the Russian's chest and closing his eyes happily. "We've never done this before."
Yuuri's eyes snapped open. "What?!"
He bolted upright, hand braced on Victor's chest and his wild black hair falling into his face as he stared down at the Russian with wide eyes. Victor's were still fluttered shut, face still relaxed like nothing had happened.
Long, slender fingers walked calmly up the length of Yuuri's arm, sparks of electricity dancing off Yuuri's skin at every point they touched. "We never had sex." Victor said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "You wanted to wait until we were married. We did … other things , but not this." He shrugged. "You wanted to save it."
Yuuri felt his jaw hang open, shocked. "Then…" Eyes roamed over the sheets, over where they'd just - "Why did you just let me…"
Victor shrugged.
"You're different." The Russian's hand smoothed over the top of Yuuri's arm, round to the back of his shoulder blade. "You want different things now."
He shrugged like it was no big deal, expression relaxed and body splayed out open and honest beneath Yuuri, like he had nothing to hide. The fingers on Yuuri's skin danced softly, waltzing invisible patterns on his back. Victor's eyes stayed shut, crinkled happily at the corners at whatever thoughts ran through his head.
Suddenly, Yuuri was glad.
Eyes closed, Victor couldn't see the crimson blotching over Yuuri's cheekbones and flushing deep down his chest, shoulders hunching as self-consciousness crashed over him like a tsunami.
They'd never had sex.
Until now.
Yuuri had just lost his virginity and he hadn't even realised it, just assuming that if he'd been engaged to Victor that he would have at least have slept with the guy at some point. It was just how things worked… wasn't it?
Apparently not.
Not that he would really know anyway. It wasn't like Yuuri had been in a string of long term relationships to know what the drill was, to tell the normal from the movie endings. All he'd had was Victor. All he had now was Victor.
Guilt churned in his gut, but he wasn't entirely sure what he felt guilty about. It felt like disappointment. He'd let himself down - his old self, at least. Waiting until they were married was a romantic idea, was something special. Yuuri could understand why he'd wanted that before and Victor seemed to be like such a hopeless romantic to go along with the idea too. In a moment of weakness, that was all gone.
Yuuri crossed an arm over his chest, sucking in his stomach subtly. Suddenly, he felt too naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe it was a mistake after all.
He couldn't ignore the hard pulse of his heartbeat, more heat pooling on his face as their intimate time together flashed through his mind. His face fell into his hands, groaning hard into his fingers. The hand behind his shoulder blade stilled.
"Yuuri…"
He felt Victor stiffen half a beat before the Russian sat up suddenly, arms wrapping tightly around Yuuri's shoulders and drawing him in close. Fingers threaded gently through his hair.
Yuuri didn't fight it as Victor guided his head down to his shoulder, breath catching as he felt every ripple of Victor's body move with his own gentle breathing. His body ran flush with the Russian's - feeling everything - and shuddering at the sigh that ghosted over the skin of his shoulder.
"It's okay." Victor soothed, fingers working out the tangled lumps of gel from Yuuri's hair carefully. "I just meant…" Another sigh. "I didn't think it was fair to hold you to promises you don't remember making."
Yuuri's fingers found Victor's taut bicep and held on tight, whimper bleeding through his lips.
It was exactly what he wanted to hear.
Eyes scrunched shut against Victor's warm skin and Yuuri fought to control the mad race of his heart, still tasting the faint tang of salty sweat on Victor's shoulder. His chest swelled happily, tears beading in the corners of his eyes.
He had a memory.
A new one.
He'd assumed that his first time had been with Victor before his accident and as a result, had been lost in the haze of his amnesia - just like his first kiss had been.
Only he was wrong. He hadn't lost the memory of his first time. It was firmly engraved in his mind from the last few hours he and Victor had spent together, sound in the knowledge that he'd given himself to Victor because he'd freely wanted to rather than it just being a distant fact that didn't feel like it belonged to his life anymore. He had a new memory with Victor, one that wasn't steeped in disappointment or confusion.
And Victor didn't regret it - even though it went directly against what the old-Yuuri he had known had said he wanted. He was letting go; embracing Yuuri as he was now, not as the person he used to be.
A dull glow of happiness bobbed warmly in the back of Yuuri's heart and he closed his eyes against the comforting heat of Victor's skin.
With his next breath, he felt Victor inhale too, chests moving together in tandem and pressing into the other like the contact was just as crucial as the oxygen itself. Not a slither of space crept between them as Victor slowly lowered them back to the bed, Yuuri still cradled carefully in his arms, like he would shatter if he let him go.
"I don't want to go." Yuuri sighed as his head settled on Victor's chest, listening to the steady beat of the Russian's heart.
It was bewitching; Yuuri felt his own pulse beat in time with Victor's, breaths levelling out and his eyelids heavier than they were five minutes ago. He sank into Victor's embrace, melting into the Russian's arms all too willingly.
A pale hand touched his shoulder, holding him close. "Then don't."
Yuuri could barely hum a response, losing himself to the warmth of Victor's skin and the calming beat of his heart. He could feel himself slipping away.
For once, he didn't care. He didn't have an ounce of will left to resist as he slipped into slumber under gentle whispers of Russian in his ear and the tingling touch of Victor's trailing fingertip on his shoulder. For the first time since his accident, Yuuri felt fully content, wrapped up safe and warm in Victor's strong arms.
He didn't have a single nightmare.
Notes:
Song is Ed Sheeran's How Would You Feel btw. Thought this song was just beautiful.
Bit longer than usual but figured it was worth it after the long endured suffering of angst. Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think!
-Rae