CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
With the late afternoon start, and the 2 brief plane rides earlier in the day, it was close to 11pm when they were getting ready to board the Air France vessel bound for Paris. Viktor was given their documents back in a fancy red envelope, and similar to when they were brought to the lounge, a private car took them to a separate entrance onto the plane.
"Wow~!" Viktor looked around, "It's like an apartment with wings!"
"...Is no one else here?" Yuri wondered, seeing every seat empty.
Attendants came and took their coats and scarves, and the woman who'd met them at the gate, Angela, stepped up again to explain, "It is not often that we only have so few travelers, but tonight seems to be an exception." She started, "You can choose where you want to sit."
Viktor was scanning the cabin, "...I think I sat over there last time. It was almost full back then." He pointed to seat 1A, "But that flight was way earlier in the day."
Yuri started wandering around; there were three rows from front to back with huge reclining seats, each with partitions that allowed for a curtain or a sliding wall to come across. From one side of the cabin to the other, there were 4 seats, with one each against the windows and two together in the middle. There were complimentary lounge clothes folded neatly on the center two seats, with a blue leather box each with Carita Paris amenities inside, socks, and even slippers. Yuri found the whole thing somewhat intimidating. He turned back around to ask where Viktor wanted to sit for take-off, but found he'd already become distracted by the gaggle of female attendants that had heard he was on board.
They were all speaking in French though, so all he could do was imagine the conversation.
...I wonder what this flight would be like if Viktor didn't speak French? I guess I should be glad he had that one girlfriend...made things easier for me in the end.
He went to sit at in the very last row along the wall, and looked out into the black of the night, seeing the airport below and the luggage carts being driven by. There was a ruckus of laughter that came from behind, but Yuri paid no attention to it. It was the silence that came after that got his attention, and he peeked his head out from the cubby-area to see what had happened, only to find Viktor and all three flight attendants looking his way.
"...What?" He asked nervously, "Did I do something?"
"Il n'est pas habitué à voyager comme cela." Viktor said, looking at him even though he was obviously not talking to him. It made Yuri a bit nervous, so he pulled back into the cubby and sat normally, deciding that would be where he'd stay until after the plane had gotten to cruising altitude.
The Russian continued to mingle while the rest of the plane boarded somewhere beyond their line of sight. Yuri found himself waited on by another member of staff; the same man that had originally brought the champagne in the lounge. Perhaps because of the language barrier, the attendant simply handed Yuri a glass of bubbly without saying anything; the second round of champagne that Viktor had spoken of.
...It's definitely stronger than anything that's served at a post-event Banquet... The young skater thought as he looked at it. He shrugged though and started drinking it, No sense wasting something as expensive as this probably is...we'll be here for the next nine hours. What's the worst that could happen?
"How are you liking it so far?" Viktor's voice suddenly asked, the man crouching down next to the seat Yuri had chosen, crossing his arms over the armrest.
"It's a bit over my head since I can't understand what anyone's saying." He answered quietly, "But the seats are pretty nice."
"Ah, sorry." Viktor mused, moving one hand up to rest his cheek against his palm, "Half the staff on this flight was here last time I passed through. They were asking how things have been since then. I guess I left an impression."
"How couldn't you?" Yuri wondered with a smirk, reaching over to stroke his fingers through the silver bangs, "Being inconspicuous is against your prime directive."
The Russian laughed at that and stood back up again, taking the seat opposite him in the isle, "Maybe." He thought back on the flight fondly, "I spent that whole night drinking and had to sleep it off in the terminal once I got to Paris. I'm sure I was eccentric though. It's a little hazy."
"I've only really seen you drink that much once." Yuri pointed out, "And Phichit-kun posted the proof of it online."
"That was a lot of fun!" Viktor clapped, "We should do hot-pot again when we get to Shanghai! You won't have to be so reserved like last time, either! And Yurio won't be there to stop us!" The cogs were turning, which made Yuri worry a little.
"Yurio stopped us...?" He thought back on the time the teen had walked in on them in the back hall, but wasn't sure.
"At Worlds!" The Russian explained, "In the hotel lounge, after I saved you from Chris! That could've gotten really exciting if Yurio hadn't thrown that bagel-thing at your head."
Yuri's face lit up in recollection, "...I hadn't even had anything to drink yet at that point. How embarrassing...!"
"Psht! It was fun!"
"...How far would you have let that go on?"
"As far as I could get away with." Viktor smiled deviously.
"I often wonder what that threshold is." Yuri said in his slightly-whispery voice.
"To the point where you say to stop." The Russian winked at him.
Yuri deadpanned him comically, wondering then how far he'd allow things to go, especially if he had alcohol in his system at the time. If there was anything to be said about his husband that was true...it's that Viktor was excitable...and an enabler. But that just made him wonder other things.
...If the Sochi Banquet happened after Viktor and I had already gotten together...I wonder if it would've been him half-naked on a pole with me instead of Chris?
His mind wandered again, his face getting more and more red as the images flooded through his imagination. He shook his head though, and twitched a little in surprise to see Viktor looking at him with a knowing expression, "W-What...?"
"What are you thinking of right now?" The Russian wondered lecherously.
"...How come you didn't get in on the strip-tease back in Sochi anyway?" Yuri asked pointedly.
Serendipitously, the attendant from earlier finally brought Viktor his glass of champagne, and he took it and raised it up a little, "Who do you think was taking all the pictures?"
The younger skater raised a brow at him, "That's not what I asked."
Viktor huffed a laugh and sipped his bubbly, turning back to sit straight in his chair, "I didn't drink that much that night, and I was trying to be good for Yakov's sake. By the time I might've joined in, you had already asked me to be your coach and had half-gotten-dressed again. I kept taking pictures until I couldn't help myself anymore, and that's when I joined in. Chris took over the role of photographer after that, which is why you could see me creeping in the background during your Dance Battle with Yurio." He thought back fondly on the whole thing, "...It's a shame my Nationals are in Moscow this year. If they were in Sochi..."
"A shame they're still being held on the exact same weekend, like usual." Yuri said, "We'll never be able to make it to both."
"Mh..." Viktor's voice trailed as he realized something, "...Come to think of it, when all's said and done, we're actually only going to get to compete directly against each other twice this season."
"Only twice...?"
"Grand Prix Final and Worlds. That's...it. Since we ended up at different events throughout the GP Series."
"...And that assumes both of us make it to the Final in the first place." Yuri said, thinking out loud as the seat-belt sign came on above.
"It would be shocking if one of us didn't make it." Viktor pointed out, "The question is who is going to be there with us this time. Chris and Yurio, likely...that leaves two other spots. We know a lot of skaters who could fill that roster, more than there are availabilities."
"More like one, since JJ will probably make it..."
The Captain's voice came on overhead to do his little 'song and dance' as Viktor called it.
Yuri pulled out his phone to check his messages one last time before his internet signal would vanish. Most of Air France's planes still didn't have on-board wifi yet, and wouldn't for another year or two. A few quick scrolls through his email, and then to Instagram...and Yuri found himself spraying champagne everywhere.
Viktor gawked at him, looking up from checking his own messages, "...What was all that for?"
The Asian skater turned his phone to face the man, "M-my apology video! It went viral!"
"...Really?" The Russian was a little confused, taking Yuri's phone to see what was posted. He read the script from the news article out loud like he had previously, "...Five time World Champion and coach, Viktor Nikiforov, announces that his athlete will sing the vocal portion of his Short Program music selection. Will Yuri be breaking new ground with an original composition?"
He scrolled a little farther, but then jumped to Yuri's profile to see that the post he'd made earlier in the day had gotten nearly 100,000 Likes already.
"This is great!" Viktor added, giving his husband the phone back.
"They completely ignored most of what that post was even about!" He protested.
"The fact that everyone's all excited about you singing my song means they've forgiven or forgotten what you had apologized for. This is good news!"
Yuri just slumped into his seat, "...It makes me crazy... I put all that effort into saying I was sorry and then all they do is react to the last thing that happened in the whole video."
"Just go with it." Viktor suggested, reaching across the aisle to thumb the back of his husband's tense hand, "If you act all weird in France, you'll just bring it back onto yourself! It's about the music now, okay? Skate Canada's done and over."
"Is it going to be good enough to be worth all this hype though? It's not like I did an original song...it's just a cover..."
"Yuri." The Russian said, coaxing the man to turn his head, "Do you really think I would do a program to a song I don't like?"
"No, but..."
"I've been wanting you to do that song for me since you sang it to me way back last year, and I'm not just saying that because I love you. You really do have a talent for singing!" He continued.
They could feel the plane starting to move beneath them, and Viktor drained the last of his champagne, motioning for Yuri to do the same.
"...If nothing else though." The Russian went on, "Tonight, you're not allowed to worry about anything. As your coach, your husband, and your biggest fan...I forbid it! We're on vacation! We're going to have fun!"
.
.
.
Within 45 minutes, the plane was finally sky bound and at cruising altitude, and the seatbelt sign was turned off. Viktor was practically jumping out of his chair and went for the fancy pajamas like a kid at Christmas, throwing off clothes in the middle of the cabin like it was home. Yuri stretched and stood up, slowly meandering to the seat opposite Viktor where another set of the same amenities had been laid out. The half-bottle of champagne he'd drunk since being in the Air France lounge on the ground was starting to work through his system, and Viktor could see the slight flush on the man's face.
He stepped out of the way though as two attendants came by to convert one of the middle-section seats into a bed as he'd requested earlier, and instead moved to the other aisle to 'help' his husband change.
Yuri was gathering up the things he'd been given and was about to head to the lavatory, only to find Viktor standing in the way. He had the previous year's Cup of China look on his face again, and before he knew it, Viktor had stripped him down to nothing but his underwear just like before. Despite how embarrassing it was to have himself spun around like he was, at least in front of the flight staff, Yuri found his attention grabbed exclusively by the silver-haired Russian once he was done.
"I almost don't even want you to get dressed again." Viktor said quietly against his ear, nudging him past the edge of the wall that separated the center and front compartments of the cabin, "But I guess I should let you wear these clothes for a little while, so you know what it's like..."
Flushed cheeks got brighter as Yuri felt the man nosing down the side of his neck, and stopping right on top of a particular reddish purple mark he'd left there before. He kissed it lightly as his hands moved down Yuri's chest, settling on his waist.
"I'll let you finish. Don't take too long~!"
Yuri watched him go back around quietly, and moved one hand up to touch at the bruise. He thought back on the moment he'd felt the flash of slight pain there, the moment Viktor had placed the mark, but then blinked and shook his head, remembering that he was almost naked in the middle of the cabin. He quickly grabbed the clothes that Viktor had scattered around, and ducked into the cubby next to the one where the other seat had been fashioned expertly into a proper bed. Within the surprisingly open space, he slid the table-top into the wide cabinet space between the two sections, and then pulled closed the curtain behind him to finish changing. The curtain was thick and heavy, almost like a double-thick tent wall, and it clipped snugly to the opposite side, bringing that section into slight darkness.
Yuri folded his things and put them into the drawer under the seat, rising up to his full height again just as Viktor came up on the other side. He watched quietly as the Russian tossed one of their carry-on bags towards the head of the bed, and then promptly fell in on top of it with a happy sigh. He quickly rolled over though and rummaged through all the different compartments available, looking for the one with the headset and TV controller.
"You want to watch anything or...?" Viktor wondered, pulling up the panel that showed the plane's flight path before clicking over to the cinema menu.
Yuri was only just then pulling the soft grey garment over his head, straightening it out and then looking at the heavy curtain. He shook his head and opted for the easier way over to the bed-side of the double-wide cubby; crawling over the wall between the seats, before unexpectedly and deliberately flopping onto his husband's back in the process.
"What's there to see?"
"Movies, TV shows, video games, music...lots of stuff."
"You can pick. I don't even know what's available."
"You put too much faith in me." Viktor laughed, "I don't know either."
Yuri leaned forward and slipped his arms over the man's shoulders, taking the controller from his hand to see how it worked, and then looking at the decently large flat-panel on the opposite wall. He'd scrolled through probably 20 pages of movies before Angela walked back into the aisle to check on them, but Viktor simply told her that they were going to settle in for the night and to wake them up 2 hours before landing. She nodded, pulled the privacy screen across, and dimmed the cabin lights.
"...You know, there probably isn't even an external audio option." The Russian realized, "Only one of us will be able to listen to whatever you settle on in 3 hours."
Yuri nudged him playfully, "Yeah I know...there's just nothing that grabs my attention though. I don't know any of these movies. I guess it's for the best if only one of us can listen at a time..."
"We could always set up both TVs and then bring the other headset over, and play the thing we pick at the same time." Viktor suggested.
"Assuming we ever find something to watch."
"Let's find something scary!" The older figure took the controller back and went on to seek his query, finding something acceptable before scrambling over the partition to do the same on the other screen. He grabbed the headphones from the second compartment and handed them over before crawling back across to retake his previous place in front of his partner, "Ready?"
"Mh." Yuri answered, putting the Bose 'muffs over his head.
Viktor had both controllers in his hands, about to hit play...but then stopped, "...You want something to drink first?"
"We should probably polish off that champagne they brought earlier."
The Russian turned his head to look back at him, a little surprised, especially since Yuri's cheeks were already a little flushed still from the last round. But he huffed a laugh and nodded, "Okay." The curtain was unclipped from the wall and shoved back a little bit, and Viktor hung out with only one leg sticking behind him for balance, "Mademoiselle! J'ai changé d'avis! Champagne s'il vou plaît!"
He shuffled back in, and sat cross-legged patiently while they waited, looking over at where his husband was glancing back. Viktor almost had no time to even comment on it before two filled glasses, and the rest of the bottle in a fancy bucket of ice, were brought out to them.
"Ah, merci, merci." He said, taking the items and setting them onto the flat top of the partition.
Yuri took his and drained it almost immediately, holding the empty glass out for a refill before Viktor even got a chance to taste his. The Russian just gawked at him in surprise. The younger man waggled the glass again, "...If we're watching something scary, I'll need this to sleep."
"You're drinking it too fast." Viktor deadpanned him comically, "You'll be passed out before the title even comes up!"
"...One more fill, and I'll drink it slower." Yuri bargained, "I don't plan on falling asleep right now anyway."
The Russian blinked at him, but then took his glass with a knowing smile and traded his own back instead, moving to grab the bottle and fill the flute he now claimed as his own.
Four glasses of champagne, 30,000ft in the air, a comfy bed, a dark room, and a movie he's probably not even going to watch. ...This ought to be an interesting flight.