CHAPTER NINETY EIGHT
Viktor was the first to stir the next morning. He was a little surprised to find that neither of them had moved much since falling asleep to begin with, aside from how he'd managed to wedge his head under the back of Yuri's neck where he'd previously had it on top. He debated whether or not to try going back to sleep, since it still seemed like it was dark outside from what little light would've normally been coming through the curtains, but after a few minutes of dozing, found it wasn't going to be easy.
He raised the left arm up that he'd draped over his husband's side and put the underside of his wrist against Yuri's forehead, checking for fever again, and was glad to find there was none. But he noticed the younger man was breathing through his mouth, rather than his nose.
...He'll be fine if he just caught a cold...
Viktor rubbed his eyes and then twisted onto his back, reaching awkwardly for where he'd left his phone on the night-stand. When he finally found it, he quietly checked the time; 5:09am. He was only able to see the number after dismissing the 14 missed called and texts blocking his line of sight to the home screen.
He idly scrolled through the list of people who'd messaged him; Yakov, Yurio, Chris, Mikhail, Minako, Yuuko, and some unknown numbers. Most of the messages had involved questions about where he was, or he wasn't at the Banquet and that it was starting without him, or why Yuri wasn't at the Exhibition, or telling him to get Yuri to turn his confounded phone on again. Yakov was the most forward, saying he should quit pretending to be a coach if he wasn't going to do his job in making his skater make the appropriate appearances.
The thought crossed his mind that he should message them all to explain, but in the end, he decided to just ignore all of them and marked them as 'read' without replying. It was barely after 5am and he doubted anyone would care to hear his excuses that early, or when they woke up later.
Anyone who's that interested or persistent will ask again later anyway...
He stretched a little as he dropped the phone back where he'd found it, and then returned to spooning against his husband's back. He let his hands roam though, lightly tracing a curved finger down the sleeping man's side, finding his contour under the blankets, how and where his legs bent...and the inevitable result of being a normal sleeping male. It took all of half a second for him to decide to take advantage of it.
His free hand went slowly to its task as the one wedged under Yuri's side wrapped around to pull him closer. Viktor traced his nose and lips across his husband's neck and the back of his shoulder, nibbled at his ear, breathed in the smell of his hair. He stroked gently, yet methodically, over where he felt the man through the fabric that separated them. He could hear where Yuri's breathing had changed a little, even as he continued to stay asleep. It was only when his fingers went under the fabric that Yuri twitched a little.
Viktor continued his delicate work, setting his lips to the back of his husband's shoulder and closing his eyes, listening to every breath, waiting for the raspy squeak that would mean the man had woken up. It was hard to pinpoint though. It was hardly the first time he'd helped rouse his partner this way, but it was the first time Yuri had been half-sick at the time...so it was only when he felt Yuri's hand reach up to grab his hip desperately that he knew he'd finally come out of sleep. Breathless gasps came forth from the younger man as his fingers gripped tightly to whatever they could hold onto.
Yuri's attempt at words were barely a whisper; whatever he was trying to say was inaudible.
"Shh." Viktor whispered, "Rest your voice."
The Russian started moving his hand a little faster, up and down, up and down, pausing at the tip to squeeze, then down again. Each movement made the younger man's body twitch a little, getting more tense, until Viktor could feel his back starting to arch a little. He kept his free hand against Yuri's core, even as he felt Yuri's own free hand gripping tighter to the crest of his hip. That hand moved further though, fingers curving around and then pulling a little, as though trying to get his body closer than it already was.
Yuri started to turn his shoulder towards Viktor's chest, trying to get onto his back. The Russian made a little room to allow it, and the younger man turned a little more. He was all twisted up after that; head turned to face him, back against the bed, hips still slightly pressed to Viktor's own, one leg bent slightly up as the other followed the curve of the Russian's knees. Yuri's breaths were ragged against the early-morning sensation, and he raised his left arm from where it was pinned against Viktor's chest, raising it to touch the man's cheek and ran his fingers through his silvery bangs.
Viktor slowed the strokes a little, not wanting things to end so soon. That's when he felt his husband's hand come back out of his hair and reach down, and grasped him where he could. It was an awkward angle to try moving from, but Yuri tried his best anyway, pawing through the fabric. Yuri twisted again, fully rotating to 'face' him even though he still had the night-mask over his eyes.
It's still pretty dark in here...but maybe Yuri thinks it's later than it really is. Not being able to see what's happening...I wonder if it's more exciting for him this way? He's doing more than I expected he would, too...I wonder how far he wants to go with this...? Guess I'll find out...
Yuri had already withdrawn his husband, and moved to press their bodies against each other, leaving only enough room for where Viktor still had him in his own hand. He knew what the younger man was aiming for; he'd openly stated once that it was one of his favorite parts of their romps, and he was all too happy to oblige him. So he moved to wedge one of his legs between his husband's, then moved his thumb to catch himself, and brought them right together.
There was a gasp with each slow pull; Yuri's best attempt at being more vocal despite himself. Both of his arms came up over Viktor's shoulders, one hand mussing through the silver-grey hair as he pressed their foreheads together.
...You're still worried you'll get me sick, neh, Yuri? I don't mind... If I do, it'll have been for a worthy cause...
Viktor leaned in to kiss his partner, caring nothing for the slightly runny nose. It just served to remind him that a long kiss probably wasn't the best idea at the time, since Yuri had no other way of breathing at that moment. He pulled his hand away from where he'd been massaging them and wrapped it around his husband's back, pulling him closer to press them harder together.
He felt Yuri starting to rock his hips against him; it was probably the closest thing to 'control' he was comfortable exerting, since in all parts, their situations were still equal.
...It was the first thing Viktor ever taught me how to do in this situation...
The Russian realized soon after that he was creeping up to the edge of his side of the bed. It was as good an excuse as any to move things around again, wedging his shoulder and arm so that it would force his husband up on top of him. That done, his hands roamed down Yuri's back, moving down slowly until he could push away each of their solitary articles of clothing until there were nothing but skin against skin. He parked his hands on his husband's hips after that, joining to the motions with a gentle rocking of his own hips.
Yuri was trying to catch his breath, so Viktor homed in on his neck, kissing and nibbling at it all he liked, his own breaths heavy against his partner's ear. He was a bit surprised when the man pulled his knees up against his sides and sat upright, freeing one leg from his black undergarment and sitting directly over the Russian's hips. One thing lead to another, and the younger figure had reached down behind himself to pull his husband into a better position, and then backed himself up against it.
"...Are you sure?" Viktor wondered, "I wasn't going to, but..."
One hand reached up to lift just the underside of the right side of the night-mask, and Viktor caught a glimpse of one hazel eye peering down at him, giving a look of longing where a lacking voice had been unable to. Though, at that point, Yuri could tell how dark it still was, and pulled the whole mask off, tossing it aside, and then leaning over to the night-stand to pull a small bottle from the drawer. That's where Viktor stopped him though, pulling the tiny blue bottle from his hands as he sat upright under him. Arms went around the younger man's small frame, holding him close, and nosing his chin lightly as he opened the bottle behind Yuri's lower back to manage the task himself. His skin was sleek a moment later, the bottle tossed to the blankets, and Yuri rose up a little on his knees, feeling the man beneath him and then slowly lowering himself again.
It took a few moments, and Viktor descended to his back again, before Yuri was comfortable enough for either of them to start moving again. He held himself up with his palms flat to Viktor's chest, drinking in the sensation of his partner inside him. Even as the Russian was starting to move though, Yuri felt the man's hands come up over his own, clasping them and then pulling them up above his head, effectively forcing him down until they were face to face again. When he was close, Viktor pulled his hands away again, and carefully set them along his husband's back, leaning his head up so he could kiss him as well.
Slow thrusts became more eager, then backed off again, and Yuri could feel Viktor's fingers leaving delicate marks across his skin, and even a slight twinge of pain where he'd practically latched his mouth to the top of his shoulder, just by his neck.
The Russian flipped them after that, slipping his arms behind the crook of Yuri's knees and held both of his legs up in the process, pushing against him with new fervor. The new angle was more intense, and Yuri arched his back as he felt it growing. His raspy voice was desperate to cry out, but all he managed were some whispered gasps. Viktor slowed down again after that, releasing his husband's legs to push his arms under his back, his fingers creeping out to grip the underside of his partner's shoulders, and pressed his forehead to Yuri's chest. Yuri crossed his ankles behind the man's back and held him close. The pushes were even slower after that, but went deeper than before, holding, and then withdrawing again. Each time, Yuri clenched his eyes shut, and wished his voice worked.
...Viktor would've liked it if he could hear me...I wonder how long it'll take for my voice to come back...?
The Russian pulled up, moving his right arm to pull Yuri's leg up in front of his shoulder, and then pushed it further to the side, forcing the smaller figure to turn to his side. He fell in behind him though, snaking his arms around his husband's waist and spooning against his back like before, kissing his shoulderblades and the back of his neck. It was only a few pushes before Viktor could feel the man fidgeting a little, arching his chest forward a little, pressing his hips back, as though trying to wiggle his way free, but never quite getting there.
"...What is it?" He wondered finally.
Yuri reached his free hand back again, and Viktor could feel the pull against his lower back, reading the sign as a cue to keep moving. Fairly soon, Yuri had configured them in such a way that the sensation was so intense, he was biting hard against the corner of the closest pillowcase. Viktor understood what he'd done despite the wordless instruction, and did his best after that to please the man. He could feel every muscle as each group started to tense up, especially when Yuri curled his arms around to grab at where Viktor's hands held him fast against his chest. He laced their fingers together as his breathing became more labored; the only noise between them being Viktor, and the wet sounds of their passion.
It was almost a relief when Viktor felt his husband's body clenching down on itself, his back arching against his chest, his head pushing up against the pillow. Viktor nosed his ear and kept going, holding him even tighter in his arms until he, too, finally felt release.
He caught his breath hard against Yuri's back, sweat gleaming across both their naked bodies. Yuri's was still giving the odd twitch even a few minutes after it was over.
"Sorry, did I wake you up...?" Viktor mused quietly, leaning over Yuri's shoulder a little.
The younger figure just huffed at him, still trying to catch his breath a little.
"I guess I finally found the sweet spot again, neh?" He pressed his mouth to the back of Yuri's shoulder, holding him a little tighter, "I even got to mark you this time...though I guess I should've asked first if I could."
Yuri turned his head a little to look back at him, confused, so Viktor pulled one hand back to gently touch to the spot he had been referencing.
"You'll have a bruise here in an hour or two." He mused, almost proud of himself, "It's called a love bite. At least I put it low enough that no one will see it when you skate next, right? Though I guess it'll be gone by then. I'll have to give you another just to be sure..."
Yuri just nudged him playfully, You would put one right where everyone could see it if you could get away with it. He lifted his eyes to look at the curtains after that, seeing the faint red-orange glow of an early sunset beyond them. He turned his shoulder and tapped the back of his wrist to ask what time it was.
"Early enough that we don't have to worry about going anywhere for another 4 hours."
He got a confused look.
"To meet my uncle and the others for breakfast like we agreed," The Russian explained, then cozied up close, "We could take a nap and go again before we even have to think about getting ready."
Yuri wondered at that, and turned away from the curtain, twisting until he was lying on his back and Viktor was leaning over him. He lifted his right hand to gently press it to his husband's cheek, looking into those cool blue eyes for a moment before lifting his face up to kiss him. As he settled back with his head in the pillow, Viktor smiled back at him, then lowered himself to get comfortable again.
"My alarm is set to 7:30."
.
.
.
By 10am, they were finally making their way down to the lobby, took their things to the concierge desk, checked their bags to collect them later, and officially checked out of their room. Yuri scanned the area, the surgical mask over his face and his newly-donated Flames beanie over his head. He was determined not to get more sick than he already felt.
Less than 2 weeks until the French event. I should get my voice back long before then, as long as I don't get worse than I am...
"It's all done. We can go." Viktor explained, coming up behind him as he was tucking their luggage ticket into his coat, and then reached down to take his partner's hand in his own, "My uncle said he'd be here in about 10 minutes, so it won't be long."
Yuri pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly thumbed a message, then held it up for Viktor to read; 'I don't think you've ever actually said his name, have you?'
"My uncle's name?" Viktor echoed, "I dunno."
Another message was written and held up, 'Say it now. ;p'
Viktor grimaced, "...M...Mik..." He saw the look on Yuri's face even in spite of the mask, "What?"
The younger man shook his head and typed some more, 'You can't say it, can you? Why not?'
The Russian raised a brow at him, "I call him uncle. Isn't that enough?"
Yuri raised a brow in response, tapping Viktor's hand with his thumb where he held it.
"I guess not." Viktor answered his own question, but then shrugged, "I've never felt like it."
More thumbing the phone's touch-screen, 'You're so weird sometimes.'
Viktor started pulling him towards the hotel's exit, and pushed against the glass doors as he looked back, "Do you ever refer to your parents by their names?"
'That's different.'
"Maybe."
The elder Russian was there within minutes, driving yet another rental car and pulling up to the hotel with Yuri's sister and mentor in the back seat. Greetings were swift, and Minako moved to take the front passenger seat while the two skaters piled in back, squishing Yuri in the middle.
"Where did you go last night, Yuri?" The older woman asked, turning back in her seat to face him, "Everyone got all worried when the announcer at last night's Exhibition said you wouldn't be performing."
"He needed to sleep." Viktor explained, "We'll be lucky if he doesn't catch the flu or something before we leave."
"So you haven't gotten any better since we saw you at the rink the night before last?" Minako asked.
Yuri shook his head, then cleared his throat. He wasn't ready to try croaking out any words though, and no one pushed him. Within a few hours, they'd be on the plane to France, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their planned pre-event mini-vacation by being holed up in the next hotel because he was too sick to move.