CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN
Viktor had done just as Yuri requested, easing him into the faster pace until he was used to it. It was almost as painful as when Viktor had stretched him unexpectedly on the deck of the onsen a year prior, which was where most of Yuri's louder noises came from...but this was a hurt Yuri wanted...mostly.
Viktor had flipped him half a dozen times, getting into him from every possible angle that the younger man would allow. He finished though while looming over his partner, panting heavily where they faced each other.
"...Is...is this how...you imagined it?" He wondered, leaning down to touch his brow to Yuri's.
"..M-More or less..." The younger man admitted, trying to catch his breath as well, feeling weak even though he'd hardly done anything for the last few minutes himself.
"What was...different?" Viktor asked, moving down a little further to wrap his arms under Yuri's back, drinking in the feeling of his partner's heat around him.
Yuri thought back on it, though it had been quite a long time since he'd had to imagine the act. He looked back into those slate blue eyes, "...If it makes sense at all, I never actually imagined it was me under you. It was...always someone else, but that I could see through their eyes. I never imagined you were with another man, so...it was definitely never me. Not really."
"So you were watching through the eyes of some woman?" The Russian clarified, smiling at that, trying to see it in his own mind's eye, "I guess that makes the most sense. But...why never you? It was your imagination. You could've thought of anything you wanted."
"...I thought it disrespected you. I never, ever imagined you being made to do something, or put into a position or situation that seemed offensive."
Viktor quirked his head at that, but then moved down to nose at Yuri's neck affectionately while retaking him in his hand, even as he was still inside him, "...I see. So even the idea of me with another guy seemed offensive to you?"
Yuri was having a hard time focusing, but he still had enough regular circulation that his brain worked a little bit, "...I'd never known you to have considered it, so it wasn't so much that it was offensive to me, as it was just something you didn't do. So I didn't think of it." His breathing became more labored as Viktor started to stroke a little faster.
"Is that why you don't often take part in our romps at the same level I do?" The Russian wondered further.
"...What...mh...what do you mean?"
Viktor let go of him for a moment, leaning back up again so he could look down at Yuri's confused face, "You let me get inside you all the time, anytime I want really...but you almost never do it yourself. Maybe only once a month, or if I insist. Why? Am I not giving you enough opportunity?" His hands roamed over his partner's chest, slowly moving up and down the length of him.
Yuri's face flushed and he averted his eyes a little, "...No, I just...don't want to."
The Russian blinked at him, utterly confused, "...Why?"
"It's just..." Yuri reached up to rub his face, trying to gather his thoughts despite where most of the blood in his head had gone, "...I don't feel the need to do that to you."
"...Why?"
"Too many questions!" Yuri blurted, arms and legs flailing where they could, "I can't think straight! If you want answers you'll have to restore circulation first!"
Viktor just laughed quietly at that, "...I'll do my best." He leaned down to kiss his husband before setting back to his task, and continued kissing him, until he started to trail down. He kept himself inside his partner until the angle made it difficult, kissing lower onto Yuri's neck and chest until finally withdrawing to move down his abdomen. The younger man drew in a hissed gasp as he felt Viktor pull out, but then gave a reluctant half-quiet moan as the Russian took him into his mouth.
He kept a close eye on Yuri as he moved, glancing up at him anytime he could. Yuri's darker moods always made it a little difficult to know when he was close, since his body language drifted a little. But Viktor could still read him for the most part, and knew to focus on one thing or another depending on how close he thought the younger man was to finishing. His hands and feet would clench up when he was on the edge, and when Viktor saw it, took Yuri wholly into his mouth and swallowed. He licked the man clean as Yuri caught his breath, then moved up to take his place on his side, wrapping his arms around his partner and kissing the shoulder closest to him.
Viktor waited a few minutes, until he realized Yuri was on the edge of falling asleep. Part of him just wanted to let the man stay where he was and fall asleep alongside him...but another part was reminding him that he hadn't actually eaten anything since before their last trek to the skating rink, and as the saying goes, 'booze ain't food.'
He nudged Yuri awake and then helped him to sitting, "Come on, let's go get cleaned up. I'm starving!"
Grudgingly, Yuri followed him, throwing on their practice pants to make the trek down the hall to the family's private bathroom. Viktor was literally in the middle of washing his husband's hair when he posed the question again.
"...So? Why?"
Yuri nearly fell off the small stool he was sitting on when he heard it, "...That again? I didn't think you really wanted to know that badly."
"Of course I want to know!"
He grumbled a little, reaching up to wipe some of the water from his face, "I don't need it."
"I don't either, but I still like to." Viktor pointed out, "Why don't you want to?"
"It just sits better in my mind not to."
"That literally makes no sense." Viktor said...but then started to wonder, "...Oh no, is there something wrong with me!? Do I need a doctor!?"
Yuri nearly choked on himself when he heard it, getting soap in his eyes and flailing and falling off the small stool as he tried to get it out again, "No! Absolutely not! There's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect!" When he finally got the stinging to stop, he turned to see the blurry image of Viktor comically lying on the shower floor, "Viktor!?"
"...I must feel weird inside..." He said disquietly, "My husband doesn't want me..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Yuri protested, trying to get the Russian up again. The whole thing reminded him of when he'd first poked the top of Viktor's head and the man had gone down on the ice, thinking his hair was thinning. Yuri was practically begging him man to get up again, just like back then, "You feel perfectly fine! I swear!"
Viktor twisted up again and took Yuri's hands in his own, "You have to take me more often then! It's only fair!"
"W-what? Why does it have to be 'fair'? I like how things are..." He shook his head, not realizing, "Unless you want me to because you want it for its own sake..."
Viktor blinked at him, "...Well, I wouldn't ask you to do something you don't want to do just to appease me."
"...It all depends on the real reason why you're asking!" Yuri blurted, his face red, "Do you want me to do it, or do you want me to want to do it!?"
"It depends on the real reason why you aren't doing it!" Viktor turned the words back on him, "Why?"
The younger man glowered at him, trying to figure out how to explain it. He retook his place on the small stool in the large flat shower-room, staring at where the soapy water was collecting in a foamy mass on top of the drain. He saw Viktor's hands coming aside his head before he felt the man leaning against his back, draping his arms over his shoulders and waiting for the answer.
"Mmmmh?"
"I just..." Yuri started, "It's the same reason why I never imagined myself being with you back then. It just isn't something I imagine you doing...so, I don't imagine myself doing it to you. It just seems weird. Besides..." Yuri looked up, "...I like the other stuff more anyway."
"Which other stuff?"
"You're gonna make me say it out loud?"
"Da."
His face went red again.
"I can't read your mind. You need to tell me what you like so I know to keep doing it." Viktor explained, "Switch!"
Yuri drew in a deep breath as the Russian pulled off of his back, and then stood up so his partner could take his place on the stool, stretching out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, and relaxing. Yuri reached for the shampoo nearby and lathered it into Viktor's hair as he tried to think of how best to answer.
"Well?"
"...I like it best when you use your hands." Yuri finally said.
"Really? Why's that?" Viktor wondered, his eyes closed beneath the white froth on top of his head.
"Your hands tell me more about how you feel than anything else, besides your eyes." He explained, content with the lather and reaching for the shower nozzle, "When you use your hands on me, I know you actually want me. Especially when you have us both at the same time. When I'm doing stuff to you...it isn't the same."
"...So you have performance anxiety?" Viktor blurted, making Yuri lose his grip on the sprayer.
It landed on the tile with a clatter, making Yuri wonder if it had broken, but when Viktor handed it back gingerly, and he saw that it was fine, he heaved a sigh of relief, "...NO." He answered the question from before, "I don't have performance anxiety. ...Okay maybe a little, but that's not the point."
"Mhm?"
The water was starting to run clear from Viktor's hair, and the man leaned his head up a little to wipe the rest from his eyes before tilting all the way back to stick the top of his head against Yuri's abdomen, looking straight up at him. His piercing blue eyes really wanted answers.
"...Fine, you want the truth?" Yuri bit the bullet, "I have 'putting something into Viktor freaking Nikiforov's butt' anxiety."
The Russian burst out laughing at that and leaned forward again.
"That's not supposed to be funny!"
"Sure it is! Think about what you said!"
"I know what I said!"
"How is that not funny? I think it's hysterical."
"You would! You're not the one who said it!"
Yuri had squeezed way too much conditioner into his hand, and when he finally noticed, he sighed and squished the whole pile onto Viktor's head. The Russian was still chortling to himself, even as Yuri did his best to massage the mess into every silvery hair he had.
Yuri just sighed, "If you want me to do it then I will."
"I don't want you doing anything that you don't want to." Viktor answered simply, leaning his head up as he felt the sprayer again, warm water dripping down his back and chest, "I'm happiest when you're happiest. Easy as that. If you like it best when I use my hands then I'll do that more often."
"...But...what about what you like?" The younger man wondered conspicuously, "It's a two-way street. I like it when you're happy too, you know?"
"It's hard to explain." The Russian shrugged, "You already let me do whatever I want physically, so there's nothing to improve upon there. I like that you let me control how most of our romps go, and I like that you take initiative sometimes. But...I like it best when you feel good, so I'll do about anything to make sure that happens. When you told me how you used to imagine us, back before we even were us, it told me all I needed to know... that I was doing everything right, and that it was how you wanted. Unless you imagine it differently now?" He turned to peer one eye back at his husband.
Yuri shook his head, "No, this is how I want it. I think it works best this way. It's..."
The Russian had moved to stand up, and slicked back his wet hair as he looked back at his partner, "...Yes?"
"...It's like how we are on the ice. I'm happiest following your lead. I feel like I know what to do when you guide me first."
Viktor smiled, "Okay." He pulled Yuri's wet frame close in a hug, then pulled back just enough to kiss him before reaching for their towels and handing his partner one, "...I'm glad we talked like this. I feel a lot better now."
"Me too."
"Now let's go downstairs! I'm famished! I'll even make you some katsudon if your mom's already done for the night, okay?"
.
.
.
Fully dried and clothed, the pair made their way back down to the common room, not realizing everyone's eyes had turned in their direction until they were both fully inside.
Viktor gawked at them, but then put his arm over Yuri's shoulder, "Sorry about earlier! Everything's fine now!"
"We know." Yurio deadpanned them, "Everyone knows."
"Hah...?" They both said together in confusion.
Chris held up his phone, showing a picture of the number 6. Phichit was next, showing a 10. In fact, everyone in the room had a number displaying on their phones, ranging from Yurio's 0 to the 10 Phichit had.
"...What's with the numbers?" Yuri wondered.
"Plisetsky notwithstanding, on a scale of 1 to 10, the score of your performance earlier." Chris explained, giving a knowing wink.
Yuri was confused. He looked around the room again, seeing the weird looks on peoples' faces, and the unusual presence of cotton pieces in Phichit and Yuuko's nostrils.
And then...cogs turned in the young skater's mind.
3...
2...
1...
His eyes suddenly widened.
"OH MY GOD THEY HEARD US."
Viktor was laughing again, "Chris! Why such a low score!?"
"...Goodnight..." Yuri dropped to the floor, immediately starting to snore.
The Swiss skater smiled as he put his phone back on the table, "Low score because we only heard him."
"You get a zero for us hearing you at all!" Yurio barked.
"You should've turned the TV volume up then!" Viktor mused, winking at him to make him uncomfortable.
Yurio just simmered, "We did, idiot! We just thought Yuri was a dying animal before we realized what the noise was!"
The older Russian was still highly entertained by the whole thing, and moved down to pull Yuri around by his arms until he could sit down again next to Chris, putting the unconscious skater in front of him to lean his back against his chest, "Forgive him, I told him to."
Chris just pat him on the back, as though congratulating him on his conquest, "No need for forgiveness from us. We're just glad it happened between you two. Now we can get on with the party and there's no hard feelings."
"Oh there's still a few hard feelings...just not those kinds." Viktor teased.
The Swiss skater laughed, Phichit reached for more tissues, and Yurio banged his face on the table.