CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
Rain pattered hard on the huge window, with an occasional roll of thunder high above.
Soaking-wet show-pants were pulled away and cast aside in three seconds flat, landing in a heap on the floor. Yuri stood upright again from where he'd leaned down to yank the slacks off Viktor's wet legs, and his hand was taken in quick succession to pull him closer.
It didn't matter that the Russian's skin was cold as stone; Yuri wanted him. There was a fleeting, secret part of his mind that wanted to feel the words that had been spoken, rather than just hear them. The only way his anxious, self-depreciating heart would rest that night was if Viktor claimed him. To mark him, and leave a part of himself behind in turn.
Viktor pulled his partner high onto his lap, wrapping both arms around him to hold him close, craning his head up to meet the younger man's face. The subtle, almost needy whimper he heard as he kissed him was like music. He felt the eager fingers of one hand running through his wet hair, the other pressing against the upper part of his back, sliding across cold, wet skin.
...Sorry, Yuri...I was cruel to you. I should've expected her to show up, and thought of what to do before it happened. How can I get your mind off of it? ...Ah, I know...
"AH!" The younger figure shrieked abruptly and rose up on his knees, as he felt those clammy, icy hands go under the back of his shirt.
Viktor just laughed and leaned back onto his elbows, "That just made the whole 'running into the rain' thing extra-worth it."
"...V-Viktor!" Yuri grimaced, reaching back to warm himself up again as well as he could while his partner pulled himself further up the bed, sliding out from under him as he went. As Yuri turned his head back around, he glanced at the light switch on the wall, and quickly reached over with a stretch to flick it off. The room was only half as bright after that, glowing dimly with the light of the two 'lamps' that were built into either side of the headboard.
The Russian had grown impatient even in those two seconds, and leaned over to pull his husband forward. In the process, he flipped the man onto his back and set his head against the pillows, looking down on him longingly. A few strands of damp silver hair tumbled down from where they'd been pushed back before, but those slate blue eyes just kept looking.
"...Hah?" The younger skater quipped, "...Why'd you stop...?"
"It occurred to me that you haven't worn your glasses since you first came back to St. Petersburg with me." Viktor answered quietly, "You had your glasses on the first time we were like this, too."
"Not for long."
"Hm...no...not for long." The Russian agreed, reaching up to pull those very glasses away from Yuri's eyes...and then put them over his own, "How do I look?"
"You're going to give yourself a headache."
Viktor gave him a smirk, but then just leaned in to start kissing him again, wedging one leg between his husband's as he half-rolled on top of him, and moving his free hand down to Yuri's side to pull him into it. Lips, neck, chin, wrist, hand, hip...anywhere the Russian could find skin, he kissed. Eventually, he propped himself between his husband's knees and pushed up the front of the man's shirt, nipping and licking at his abdomen, and moving up to his chest as the two layers of fabric were moved further away.
Yuri's breaths became more obvious, but at least he was finally starting to relax. Viktor's hands were warming with his touch, and allowed the younger man the solace of closing his eyes and enjoying himself.
...It's been almost a week since we were like this... He thought, creeping one eye open to watch the silver-haired head moving up his chest, ...Even if he didn't notice it, he must've been nervous that she would make an appearance somehow. He hasn't really wanted to mess around since the night before we came to Bordeaux to kidnap Yurio...and it didn't stop even after we went back to Paris.
His small frame arched to every sensation, and each quiet gasp made the Russian want him more. Protective hands went from where they held to Yuri's waist, sliding up until they were pulling at the two shirts covering his figure, separating the V-cut dark grey sweater from the white button-down underneath it. One last kiss, and Viktor pulled the sweater over Yuri's head, tossing it to join his own clothes where they'd been scattered on the floor already. Eager hands pulled the older man down again, arms scrambling over shoulders as he drew nearer, and ankles went up to cross behind his back. Viktor let himself be pinned in, wedging his own arms under Yuri's back to return the hug.
When Yuri had him, and the man finally took the hint and held still, he tilted his face towards his husband's ear. He gently rubbed his cheek against it and drew in a breath, "...I will never, ever send you away."
The words settled for a moment, but Yuri could feel the hug getting a little tighter after that, and Viktor pressed his face into the crook of his neck, glasses and all. He could feel a shaky breath being pulled in, held a moment, and then let go again.
"...Thank you." The Russian finally said, mouthing the words against Yuri's neck, "...I'd be a mess if you did."
"Me too."
Viktor snuffled a little as he pulled his head back, took the glasses off, and rubbed the side of his face on his arm. He moved his hand off to set the glasses on the nightstand, and then turned back to look at his partner normally. Like before, he just looked into those brown eyes for a little while, even as his still seemed a bit wet, "...Hah...this is why I'm no good dealing with people who cry in front of me."
"...Eh?"
"Because I get hopeless when I cry." He explained, "But...I think I finally found the thing to inspire the rage I lost for my Free Skate."
"...I guess...that's...good?" Yuri was giving him the 'is this the best time?' look.
The Russian's eyes shone, and he tilted his head a little, damp bangs coming down in front of his eye, "All that lost time."
"Eh?"
"The moment I saw her..." He started, sitting back a little, feeling where Yuri's legs pressed in against his sides, and stroked his hands gently aside each of them, "...It felt like that whole time flashed in front of my eyes. There was a day when Chris told me he'd been on the phone with a friend of his from Juniors, wishing him luck at some Grand Prix event. A friend that was a big fan of mine, and who lived in Japan at the time." Fingers moved from thighs to abdomen, gently picking at each button of the dress shirt, "Chris said he'd introduce me to that friend if we were ever all at the same event...but it was years before that ever happened."
"A Japanese friend of Chris', huh?" Yuri echoed, feeling the cool air on his skin as each subsequent button was undone, until there were only two left under his chin, "And a big fan of the legendary Russian skating genius, Viktor Nikiforov...? Don't know who he's talking about."
The silver man's eyes were laughing even if he didn't voice the sound, flicking away the last button and letting the thin white fabric fall where it may in front of him, "Yeah...just some scrub in the Junior division that could never even beat Chris. I heard he moved to Detroit sometime later, getting coached by some weird Italian guy that never let him pick his own music."
Yuri quirked a brow, but almost pouted, "Celestino would've let me pick..."
"Le gasp!" Viktor said suddenly, getting dramatic, then descending with both hands flat on his partner's chest, "That friend was you!? So you're saying we've known each other through one degree of separation for over ten years!?"
"...That makes it sound really bad."
"Right!?" The Russian agreed, pressing in close, leaning in over his hands, "So therein lies my rage...we were so close that whole time, and yet..."
"And yet I was so terrified of you that I literally ran away the first time Chris tried to introduce us. I don't think he even had a chance to say who I was before I was gone."
"You'd remember better than I would then." Viktor pointed out, "How many times did he try?"
"Four."
"And then we just ended up meeting on our own at that one Skate Canada, right? During the medaling ceremony."
"Yeah..."
"You couldn't run away that time." The silver man joked, "You were forced to get up there next to me."
"...Mh."
Viktor gave him the sexy eyes after that, "What were you thinking at the time?"
"...Something along the lines of...oh my god it's Viktor, oh my god it's Viktor, oh my god it's Viktor..." Yuri answered emphatically, perfectly replicating his old anxieties, "Interspersed throughout all that were thoughts of oh yeah I won silver, and oh jeeze don't pass out while he's around, and don't panic and wet yourself..." His hands started sneaking back around from where they were lying on the bed-sheets next to his head, "...and one other thing..."
"Hm?"
Hands went between them and slid under the black fabric of the only remaining article of clothing that clung to Viktor's pale body, forcing his eyes to go wide suddenly at attention.
"You're talking too much."
He uttered a breathy gasp, "...I wasn't...ready yet."
"I'll make you ready."
"Or maybe I should put my mouth to better use?"
Yuri's face went from slightly pink to bright red, but he refused to let his hands stop moving, doing his best to remind himself that they'd done this a thousand times and that he shouldn't be so embarrassed anymore. But as long as Viktor found it endearing...maybe it was for the best that his face still got color whenever they were that close. Too much confidence in the young skater was like an ill-fitting suit...pretty, but leaving a lot to be desired.
Viktor let him do as he pleased for a little while though, leaning down to the side to nuzzle at his neck and ear. When he felt himself starting to rock against Yuri's hands though, he knew to slip away, and started working his way back down the man's now-exposed chest. Deft fingers undid the button on the front of the younger man's jeans, and quietly slid the zipper down. As his kisses trailed past Yuri's neck though, his frame scooted too far away for the attention at his center to continue, and he reluctantly pulled out of it. Those hands found themselves with little to do after that but wait.
Yuri's leg twitched at Viktor's side as he felt that warm attention through the fabric. He could feel every movement, every tease of silver hair against his skin, every brush of lips where clothing prevented contact, every throb of his heartbeat pulsing through him, demanding unobstructed attention. The Russian was enjoying the tease as much as anything else though, waiting until the last possible second before using teeth to pull the fabric away a little. His left hand went to the side of his partner's hip, thumb feeling the crest as the other fingers curled around, dipping under the edge of the sheet beneath them. The right hand slid back up Yuri's abdomen, making it nearly to his chest before slipping slowly back down again. He kissed and licked and nosed at his husband lightly until he was firm enough to take in hand, and then gave him the hot, wet attention he so craved. The music began anew.
"V-Vikt-...tor..."
Another leg-twitch, this time stiffening out straight where it emerged past the Russian's side, toes splaying and clenching down through the thin black sock.
...I can never believe he's doing this, even when he's doing it...!
Yuri's mind raced, his eyes clenched shut against the intensity of the feeling. For lack of ought else to do, his hands went up to grab a pillow just above his head, and pulled it over himself, squishing it down over his face and clutching at it desperately.
"Try not to smother yourself?" Viktor laughed, "I know some people have a thing about nearly-but-not-quite fainting during this, but..."
"V-Viktor!" Yuri barked, his voice muffled through the pillow where he gripped it a little tighter from the embarrassment of the suggestion.
The Russian went back to his task though, forcing him to squeak loudly as he felt it. The barrier of downy feathers couldn't stop the sound of Yuri's ecstasy, and Viktor worked even harder after that. He was certain the pillow itself would be blushing by then if it could. The skin in front of him was slick and wet, slightly flushed in its own right...but he could hardly stand his own neglected throb anymore. He hoisted up the stiff left leg to raise it higher against his side as he got closer, and joined their centers together, watching excitedly as the sensation made his husband's back arch to feel it.
One hand went to work between them, but the other went up towards the pillow, trying to nudge it away so he could see the man's face beneath it. Yuri let go of it easily enough, the rest of his body tensing up then from the sensation, his breathing heavy and loud. Viktor smiled to see it and leaned in closer, sliding his hands between the sheets and the back of his husband's shoulders to hold onto him. One hand stayed in the middle of Yuri's back as the other pressed to the nape of his neck, feeling the beginnings of his raven hair, and he lowered his face to the crook of his neck again.
Yuri gasped as the up and down slide began, dismayed at the feeling of a meager fabric barrier between them still. His hands went down the Russian's sides to push it away as well as he could, sliding them up again to rest on his back when he was done. He could feel every muscle moving beneath that pale skin, and he found himself digging his fingernails in as he felt a sharp pain against his neck. He cried out a little as it lingered, but he wouldn't shy away, knowing what had happened. It happened again a few inches further down his shoulder, just under where his dress-shirt was still clinging to him. Every bruise on his neck left three or four scratches on Viktor's back though, so he supposed it was worth the ache. He had two on each side before the Russian pulled up again, crying out finally against the marks in his flesh, but then casting down slate blue eyes to his husband.
"Eck...sor-sorry!" Yuri pleaded, thinking he'd gone too far.
"Don't be!" Viktor insisted, "At least, not for that...I liked it."
"...Then...what...for?" The younger figure wondered, panting lightly where he'd been left in the pile of sheets.
"I'll have to leave you like this to get our things so we can keep going."
"Huh? No..." Yuri blinked and shook his head, but then reluctantly pulled up from his warm spot to lean onto his elbow.
Viktor watched him go curiously, seeing as he twisted over onto his side to reach for something under the corner of the mattress, "What are you...?"
"I hid stuff here." Yuri explained, trying to find where the bottle had gone to. When he found it again, he held it in his hand and pushed back to his elbow again, "See?" He held it up.
"...You've never hidden stuff like that before." The Russian gave him a surprised look, casually crossing his arms as he sat on his knees and crossed ankles, caring not for how obviously his arousal had been exposed, "Why now...?"
"Er..." The younger figure stammered, not having expected to get questioned about it, "...This is the first time you've shown interest in doing this kind of thing since we first came to Bordeaux last weekend. I didn't want you to think I was being pushy by leaving it out in plain sight, so I put it away. When we got here to kidnap Yurio, you said this place had history, so I had a feeling you'd...you know...lose interest for a little while."
"...Oh." Viktor's eyes went down a little, but before he could let the awkward realization settle in, he reached to take the bottle from Yuri's hand and set it on the sheet next to himself, using that same hand to guide his husband to rising up onto his knees to meet him. He slid his hands around Yuri's sides, slipping them under the dress shirt, and leaned in close, lightly setting his lips to his partner's so he could feel the words as they were spoken, "I didn't realize I was neglecting you so much. I'll make it up to you..."
He wouldn't give Yuri a chance to protest or say it was fine, kissing him before he could speak a single word. It seemed to work, and the younger man gave in easily enough, bringing his own hands up to rest on his partner's upper arms as he settled into the kisses. Viktor could feel where the man was pressing against his abdomen, and where he himself had slid between his legs. His hands moved down from the small of his husband's back to slip under the loose edge of his slacks and trunks, pushing them down and out of the way, then bringing his hands up again to hold to Yuri's waist as the kisses became more needy.
Yuri's fingers moved as well after that, left hand coming up to weave through silver hair as the right went down around the side of Viktor's chest. He felt a slight nudge, and realized the Russian was trying to get behind him, so he turned to meet him halfway. Pale fingers came up to the back of his shoulders as he settled in on his knees, pulling the dress shirt off his arms and casting it to the floor to join the rest. Viktor pressed himself to his back after that, kissing the back of Yuri's shoulders greedily as hands wrapped back around to give his center a little more attention.
The younger man's hands went from clutching at his husband's forearm to grabbing at the blanket beneath him, closing his eyes as the sensation poured through him. Each stroke, pull, twist, and grab was enough to make him gasp aloud. The Russian's free hand came up under his jaw, lightly lifting his face as he started to slide up and down directly behind him. The kisses and nibbling against Yuri's neck continued until the younger skater heard the click of the bottle, and again, feeling where his husband's skin suddenly felt a little cold again. He tilted his hips a little bit in anticipation, but Viktor did most of the work after that, folding his hands through the crook of hip and thigh, positioning himself, and then gently pushing in a little.
Yuri lowered his head, his fingers clamped around the sheets as he felt his partner getting a little deeper every few heartbeats, withdrawing now and then to give him slack, and then going in again. Hands on his waist came up to wrap arms around his chest and arms, pulling him tight to his idol's chest even as he got into him as deep as he could.
"Nh...ngh..." He winced quietly, trying to catch his breath where he'd stopped allowing himself to inhale before.
"You okay?"
"Mhm..."
Viktor could tell the confirmation was slightly feigned, and moved his hands back down to help Yuri relax a bit. He knew it would only be safe to start moving again when the man's back arched a certain way, and though it took a minute or two, he finally felt it. He left one hand to massage where it was, and moved the other up to place it flat against Yuri's chest, leaning over him from behind with his chin on the back of the man's shoulder.
The slide was slow but deliberate, and Viktor listened closely to the sound of every breath, waiting for the moment that discomfort resigned to pleasure. There was a strange correlation though that Viktor noticed...the further along that transition came, the lower Yuri descended to the bed, until he had his head turned against the sheet and was looking back at him from there, arms curled under himself, just in front of where his knees were parted, keeping the rest of him up. The Russian leaned in closer when he saw it, setting one hand into the sheets to hold himself upright while the other slipped under his husband's abdomen, kissing the back of his shoulderblades where he could reach them, and starting to pick up the pace.
Even though Yuri had gotten better at showing initiative and taking command of him more often, it still felt best when he had 65% of the control. The other 35% was his meager concession, and he knew, no matter how many times he claimed to want otherwise, he had to be in a certain mood to allow it. That moment did not lend itself to one of those moods. The day's events had left him wanting to assert his dominance again, and it played well to Yuri's need to feel monopolized. It was a far cry from the way they'd been on the La Premiére flight, when Yuri's unexpected reversal of their roles left Viktor too surprised and vulnerable to counter it. It was probably just the alcohol though...
The Russian loomed over his husband, reminding him full and well exactly who he 'belonged' to. Yuri eased into the surrender rather willingly, and his whole body relaxed all the more for it. He pulled his arms out from where they'd been folded under his chest, and crossed them under his forehead instead, closing his eyes to feel Viktor push into the deepest parts of him.
He felt Viktor pulling him up again though, continuing the upward thrust as hands went flat against his chest and stomach to keep his back firmly against his own chest. The Russian brushed his cheek against Yuri's hair, nosing his ear gently, listening closely to each needy breath even as he gave his own.
Yuri looked back curiously with half-lidded eyes as he felt his husband withdraw, but then take him by the shoulders to nudge him to turn around, and subsequently pushed him down to his back. Viktor slid back between his knees and pressed urgently, kissing him again as one hand guided him back to where he wanted to be and pushed in again. The pace picked up even more after that; Yuri could feel his whole body jerk with each thrust. His hands went up over Viktor's shoulders and neck to hold steady, even as his knees and feet came up aimlessly against the man's sides.
He was sure Viktor was about to finish when he flipped their positions one last time, fully rolling from his knees to his back. Yuri found himself on top after that, hands on his husband's chest as he tried to catch his breath. Viktor didn't give him long to think about what to do, hands going to task where Yuri's center had been neglected for a few minutes, and making him twitch in the process.
To the younger man's credit, his body knew what to do even if his mind was too enthralled to think straight. There would always be a tiny part of him that would see Viktor as the genius skater he'd idolized in the years prior, separate from his husband. A slim 8.64% of him felt like a super-lucky groupie anytime Viktor paid him any kind of attention.
But he rose and fell as well as he could, tilting and turning his hips as he'd been taught over the past 10 months to best please the man. It was hard though when Viktor was stroking him at the same time, though he knew the Russian did it specifically to see how he managed.
'It's the look on your face. I love seeing how you process how to keep moving, while I'm doing my best to make you incapable of it.'
It was enough though...Yuri's lithe frame had reached its limit. Hot liquid dripped down Viktor's hands as he felt the younger figure clench up around him, reluctantly crying out as he balled up a fist against his chest. As the tremor slowly faded, Yuri peeked open one eye in time to see his husband licking his fingers. When they were clean again, those hands came forward to brace against his waist, and a smirk crossed the man's face to warn his young husband to expect the end. Yuri braced for it, hands flat against Viktor's chest as the upward thrusts began again. He was already weak from release though, and try as he might to stay upright and looking down, his arms were giving out. Viktor raised his own arms up once Yuri was low enough and embraced him tightly, kissing at his neck where he could, and burying his face against the crook of the shoulder when he felt his moment had come. He pressed up as hard as he could, crying out his husband's name against his ear before collapsing as well.
Yuri stayed where he was though, feeling where Viktor was gently rubbing his thumb back and forth against his back, both of them trying to catch their breath, and let the trembling come to a slow and gradual end.
"...Give me...ten minutes...and I'll be ready for that shower..." The Russian said between breaths.
Yuri just went limp where he laid on the man's chest, sighing to himself contentedly as he heaved.