CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIXTY ONE

The door to the hotel room cracked open, and light poured in from the hall, illuminating the darkened space with a thin sliver of yellow-white radiance. Two figures stepped quietly in, and the door closed again after them with a soft click. Bags were set on the ground near the wall, added to the big pile of suitcases and other travel-packs that were already there.

"So you ended up having to tell him you're coming?" Yuri asked, pulling his team jacket off and setting it over the top of the headboard.

"Yeah." Viktor confirmed with a dramatic sigh, "So much for my surprise."

"Can I say it now?"

"...Fine."

"Told you so." Yuri quipped, pointing at his husband with both hands.

"Yeah yeah." The Russian retorted, "You did." He put his long-coat in the hall closet and then turned 180 to face the pile of luggage, a finger rising to his lip in thought, "I really hate leaving all this stuff for you to deal with."

"It doesn't make sense for you to take your half of the gear all the way back to Moscow just because it's yours." The younger skater pointed out, sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing down on the heel of one shoe with the toe of the other, and then doing the same to the second, "It's all going to end up in Sapporo anyway."

"I still feel bad about it. I brought a lot of stuff." Viktor explained, crouching down to pull out the contents of a carry-bag so he could fill it instead with just the things he was taking with him, "I'm only going to need enough stuff for 3 days. ...Most of this pile won't change."

"Well, if you want to take all of it, you're more than welcome to, but you really don't have to. I can handle it."

"You sure?"

"I'll make Yurio carry it." The younger skater suggested with a grin, looking over his shoulder.

Viktor just glanced up and blinked at him skeptically, but then busted out laughing and fell back on his hind end, "That'll be the day! Yurio doesn't even carry his own luggage half the time!"

"Who was asking him to before?"

"...Yakov."

Yuri just brought his hands up and made a face, wordlessly saying 'well there you go' before falling down onto his back on the bed. He listened to the rustling of luggage, zippers, buckles, and cloth for a few minutes before sitting up again to see where the Russian had gotten to with his packing. He grabbed his phone briefly and looked at the time.

Two hours until he has to go to the airport. Yuri clicked it off again and set it face-down on the table in front of him, casting brown eyes over to the silver figure again, It's going to be weird to be alone tonight. We haven't slept apart since last year. But even then... He looked up at the wall, then to the right, staring out through the part in the curtains to the city beyond, ...It was only for a day and a half. This time it'll be three full days...

"You got really quiet there for a bit, Yuri."

"Huh?"

Viktor was sitting cross-legged on the floor, three suitcases open around him and the half-empty duffel-bag he'd been trying to fill just in front of his shins. Blue eyes were examining the younger figure, though what for, Yuri wasn't sure. The Russian smiled though, "Have you picked what you're going to do for the Exhibition tomorrow?"

"Mhhh... Not really." Yuri answered, turning to look down at where he was poking one of his shoes with a toe, lifting it up a little bit and letting the sneaker drop again to tumble where it may, "It'll be weird to go without you."

"You're still upset that I didn't tell you what my plans were until after I'd made them." Viktor said simply, stopping what he was doing and putting his elbows on his knees, slouching a little, "I hadn't even thought about it until after I talked to Uncle Mimi though, after you left."

"You've always been impulsive." The exhausted skater pointed out, dropping to the sheets and blankets again, and lacing his fingers together over his chest. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, but then closed his eyes and drew in a breath, "I can't fault you for being who you are."

Yuri couldn't hear the quiet rustle of socks on carpet, but he did feel the sudden deepening of his imprint in the comforter when two hands went down on it on either side of him. He barely had a chance to open his eyes again before he felt the Russian lying down directly on top of him, one knee coming between his own as those hands slid under the back of his shoulders.

Viktor nosed his lip a little, his bangs tracing light lines across his husband's cheek, "I didn't decide to go because I thought it was okay to leave you behind." He said quietly, holding himself up slightly on his elbows so as not to put his full weight down on the smaller man's chest, "If it weren't for the fact that he got hurt..."

The hands that had been on Yuri's chest unlaced from themselves and went up around the Russian's frame, holding him there lightly as Yuri lifted his head just enough to kiss his husband. He could feel the slight tension in Viktor's body dissolving away, relaxing to his touch, and he moved even further up until he tilted to the side a bit, gently setting his partner into the pillow-pile under the headboard. He raised his right leg up a little where it had been pinned between his partner's, and pressed in close to kiss him again, their positions mostly flipped by then. His hand stroked gently at the man's side, slowly moving from his waist to his chest, then up to caress his cheek.

"I'm not mad for you wanting to go back to meet with Mikhail." Yuri explained in a whisper, lips so close that Viktor could feel the words as they were spoken, "It was a last-second decision you made, and it just happened to take place while I was out, doing things I normally wouldn't be. So while I'm sad you'll be gone, I'm happy that you finally accept your Uncle enough that you'd be willing to go back to Russia just for him."

"...Yuri..."

Lips met lightly again, and for a longer period of time. The raven-haired skater moved in a little closer, hand sliding back down to his partner's waist. Viktor hugged him tighter in turn, fingers pressing into the fabric of the event costume the same way they had earlier in the evening. Just like then, the Russian felt like he was relinquishing control, letting his husband and lover decide everything and do whatever he wanted. Yuri took it in stride, his free hand sliding from his partner's waist, over his hip, and down his thigh, stopping only to pull that leg over his own.

He hasn't been his usual self since he saw all the banners before my Free Skate. The skater thought, the deep kiss still going on as he moved a bit further on top of his husband's body, It's strange...feeling how easily he surrenders when he gets rattled. I don't often get a chance to make him feel better.

Viktor twisted under him a little, one hand staying on the small of his partner's back as the other slid down loosely over a shoulder. He was sure that Yuri was about to sit on his hips like he usually did, but was surprised to find him doing the opposite...getting in between his legs and pulling them aside his waist before leaning in overtop of him again. They were each still fully decked out as Coach and Skater, minus only their shoes and coats. Yuri paused only long enough to pull the two event passes away, slipping the thin lanyards over his husband's head before setting them further down the bed and leaning in to kiss him again, giving a slight grind of his hips as he went.

The silver Russian savored every moment, hands sliding under his partner's arms to move along his sides, down his back, feeling the soft, yet firm roundness of that telltale skaterbum. He could feel his husband's hands going to work at the front of his suit-jacket though, pulling the tie free and undoing the buttons, pushing the heavier fabric away before fumbling at the smaller buttons of his dress shirt. The tie was still half-knotted when Yuri pulled up again, pulling the white shirt free from his slacks to undo the last remaining fasteners. Yuri let the thinner material fall away and beheld the pale flesh before his eyes, leaning in quickly to kiss and lick at it. Viktor pulled his hands back as he felt the warm wet sensation against his skin, letting them fall to the blanket as he raised his arms up over his head, arching his back up a little as Yuri went further up.

The younger skater gave due attention to each pink nub, kissing and sucking on each before moving up to his husband's neck. For once, he had no apprehension about what he was doing, no anxiety or embarrassment...he was doing what normally would take the addition of liquid courage to pull off. But Yuri wanted nothing more than to bring his partner back from the small pit of despair he'd been flung into with the resurgence of all the previous night's memories. He's won the gold medal for the man, now he was going to remind him why they had gold rings, too.

Another push of his hips; Yuri could feel his partner starting to get excited even through all the layers of fabric that remained between them. He could feel the tingle and heat of his own body starting to respond, and it only made him want his husband more. A few more kisses, and Yuri pushed up onto his hands, resting them on his partner's chest until he was fully upright. Viktor clamped his knees a little tighter around Yuri's smaller frame, making sure he didn't get too far away, and let his hands roam around the man's front to where he knew the tiny hidden clasps were discretely sewn into the costume's dark colors. Three tiny hook-and-eyelets at the V in the front of the outfit, followed by a very thin zipper, and beneath it...skin. Yuri shrugged out of it, carefully tossing it over the headboard next to his runner-jacket, then descended again on top of his husband, chest to chest, flesh to flesh. More kissing, hands roaming under the remains of an open dress shirt to feel every inch, every muscle, every contour and curve.

The younger figure pulled up a little, touching their nose-tips before moving down, kissing his partner's chin, then his neck, moving an inch at a time down his chest and abdomen, dipping his tongue into the Russian's naval. He kissed the man's right hip before rising up a little to undo the button and zipper on the dark-colored slacks before him. He pulled them away just enough, and kissed lightly at what he found within; only one layer of black fabric left.

Viktor drew in a vocal gasp as he felt his husband's affection, closing his eyes to let him do as he will. It was only a few seconds before he felt his center exposed to the air, and the warm, wet sensation that came after. Initially, one long warm stroke from root to tip, then encompassing everything, rising and falling, licking and sucking. The difference in texture; tongue versus lips, bringing in a hand to help, focusing on different parts...it was everything he loved. He gasped loudly a few times, arching his back and twisting, reaching one hand down to run his fingers through slicked-back raven hair. He supposed this was as close as he'd get to taking his husband while in the middle of an actual event...at least for the moment. There were still yet two before the Grand Prix was over.

Yuri pulled up after a while, keeping his partner in-hand until he needed said hand to push the remains of his own clothing away, then leaned forward and descended again. He felt an immediate push up when their hips pressed against one another, fingernails lightly raking across his back where the Russian's hands held him firmly against the grind. Slowly but mutually, they rocked against one another, and Yuri nibbled at his partner's neck and ear all the while. He only stopped to catch himself when he felt his husband's hands clasp between them, giving a squeeze before gently pulling, tugging, and twisting. He put his forehead against Viktor's chest and drank in the feeling of the man's handiwork, putting everything he'd learned over the past 11 months to good use.

It had been more than a year by then, since their first kiss as Cup of China, but the anniversary of their first truly intimate night wasn't until closer to the end of the month. Viktor's birthday, in fact, though Yuri long-doubted the Russian had planned it that way.

A small shuffle, and Yuri moved a bit forward, bringing his knees aside his partner's waist as he hoisted both of the legs parting around him a little higher around his chest, yanking off the remaining clothes from Viktor's ankles as he went and tossing them aside. The grind continued. Yuri paused only long enough to reach under the pillows where the small purple bottle of fun-liquid had been abandoned the day before, dripped a healthy amount onto himself, and capped the bottle again as he spread the liquid around with the other hand. Returning the little item back to the hiding place it had been pulled from, Yuri leaned forward again, looking down into his husband's eyes before kissing him again. The grind was slicker then, the cold of the fluid warming between them with each slide up and down.

The Russian cupped his partner's face gently, looking deep into those eyes as he felt the new pressure. He relaxed his legs and let his head fall back to the blanket, hair tousled to the side as his hands slid down his partner's chest. An inch in, then back, then two inches, then back again, repeating until he could feel his husband's hips pressed right up against the back of his legs. He could feel where Yuri put his arms behind his knees, lifting his hips a little higher and leaning forward, getting a little deeper.

"...Ah...hnnnn..."

The rocking began slowly, picking up only as Yuri felt his partner relaxing under him. Watching every change in the Russian's expression; how hard he closed his eyes, how far he turned his head, whether he gasped openly or through clenched teeth...every muscle where it was tense or loose, whether fingers were clasping tightly to where they'd fallen to the sheets, then looking aside to see whether the older skater's toes were curled or splayed. Reading the man's body was like reading a book, and Yuri was fluent in its language. He waited until he could see the tension of the man's core fade before he moved any faster; rocking his hips in a circular fashion rather than pulling away and thrusting in again. He unhooked his right arm from behind the man's leg, letting it press against his ribs as he brought his newly-freed hand around front, massaging and stroking in time with his other movements. He continued on that way, sliding his hand down from the man's center, across his abdomen and coming to rest on Viktor's chest, pressing gently to feel his heartbeat.

Slate eyes opened a crack to watch him, and Viktor turned his head a little, looking a bit coy there in the bed sheets. Yuri saw it and fell under their azure spell almost instantly, shifting the man's second leg in front of himself and twisting to get down onto his side behind him. Pressing his chest to the back of his husband's shoulder, he draped an arm over the man's front to hold him close. The gentle grind began anew, slowly pulling further out and pushing back in again. Viktor gasped with each thrust, one hand coming up behind his partner's head where he'd been kissing lightly at his neck, running fingers through dark hair. Soon, he was fully curled back against Yuri's chest, holding to the arms wrapped around him like they couldn't hold him tight enough. He shrugged up his shoulders and tossed his head against the blankets, crying out louder as each thrust went deeper. Eventually, he rolled onto his stomach, forcing his partner to lay on top of him.

Yuri went with it, wedging his hands under Viktor's chest and crossing them in front of him, knees pushing the man's legs apart. He kissed at the back of his husband's shoulder as he pushed on, breathing in the smell of his hair, and the last vestiges of cologne from earlier in the day. A few moments of it, and Viktor was lowering himself to lie flat against the bed, his whole form limp and relaxed to his husband's touch, lying still save for the gentle rocking of Yuri's own movements against him. The younger figure pushed up onto his hands, kissing at his partner's back before sliding them down to the crook of his hips and legs. He gently squeezed each thigh before putting his knuckles down against the blankets, pinching the man's waist between each wrist, and picking up the pace of his motions. He could feel the slight tilt of his partner's hips, and he rose up a little higher onto his knees to accommodate him, trying to move in the way he knew would give the man the most pleasure. He knew he was rubbing up against the sweet spot when Viktor curled his arms under himself and seemed to clench up a little, biting down on the sheet where he was gripping it tightly in his fingers. He even bent his legs up where they'd been spread, toes curling tightly.

Viktor's cries and gasps changed pitch a little, and Yuri knew he was close, so he slowed down again. He pressed himself close, going deep, before reaching both hands under his husband's sides and pulling up a little to get him to rise up onto his hands. The Russian did as bid, and Yuri again hugged him close from behind, right arm wedged through the tight space along the man's side, coming to rest against the inside of his right thigh, the left hand flat against Viktor's chest. He pushed on until he felt he was close as well, only then letting the left hand slide down against pale skin to give attention back to his partner's center. The Russian reached back when he felt it, holding to his husband's leg tightly, breathing becoming more labored, gasps becoming more like cries.

Yuri could feel every muscle in his husband's body tense up all at once before he felt the hot liquid dripping against his fingers. Viktor dipped his head low, crying out against release, moving both hands out in front of himself in an effort to keep upright. The tension pushed Yuri over the edge as well, and he gently bit at the back of his partner's shoulder as he finished, pushing in as far as he could go. He withdrew and pushed in a few more times just for good measure, then stopped, breathing heavily against the wet skin in front of him.

The silver Russian reached for his partners hands, weaving their fingers together as he brought them forward and pressed them against his chest, turning his head back to kiss the side of his husband's forehead. He said nothing, just trying to catch his breath for a moment before letting the man's hands go again. Yuri just wrapped his arms around his idol's waist and drew him back down to their sides, hugging him tightly, still inside him as they went.

Viktor eventually turned around, pulling off of his husband reluctantly, until he was able to face him normally. He kissed the man lightly a few times, one hand sliding up the length of him until a finger came to rest on Yuri's lip, "I thought I'd just carry you back with me to Russia in spirit, but I guess I'll be taking a little bit of you with me in body as well."

"Hah?" The younger figure blinked at him, but then in spite of everything, his cheeks still flushed a deep crimson, "Oh."

The Russian huffed a laugh and nosed him affectionately, moving his hand from Yuri's lip to run it through his messy raven hair, "I'll wait until you're asleep before I go, okay? No goodbyes. I'll call you as soon as I land."

Wordlessly, the younger skater nodded, nestling in closer and closing his eyes.