CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED ELEVEN
Yurio leaned over the banister with a smug look on his face, watching the sweepers and other event staffers checking around the ice and filling in numerous gouges and cracks. Eventually, they had to mark off the worst of them and bring the zamboni out again to make a pass over all of it. The teen's eyes wandered down to where the next skater was still entirely reluctant to go put on his Free Skate.
"Everyone who skates after Viktor is going to pale in comparison." Minako said, verbalizing the Russian Tiger's thoughts, "But...I guess bringing Konstantin here had its silver lining after all."
"Eight quads. Viktor's not human." Yurio quipped, "He used to say that 4 quads were his limit, and that he just didn't have the stamina to put much into the second half of his program except for Loops and Toe-loops. He must've had a serious rage-boner out there to pull this off."
The ballerina's cheeks went pink to think of it, "I don't know if I'd put it like that but...well, sort of." She laughed nervously.
.
The media mob was easy to lose once the Russian had blown them off, insisting he'd give them all the time they wanted after the medaling ceremony. Yakov just smacked his forehead as his skater disappeared, Yuri in tow. There was nothing that could be done about it though...except for both abandoned parties to realize they were each there, and for the coach to suddenly get bombarded with all the attention.
Viktor just kept going, all but carrying his husband along until he was certain no one was following. They ducked around a corner and waited for a moment in perfect quiet, hearing only the sound of the audience in the arena, and the announcement for the poor skater who had the misfortune of performing next. The Russian unlocked his phone and stuck just the corner of it around the edge of the wall, enough to get a clear view on the camera, and pulled it back to see what it showed.
"No one's coming." He said, relieved, "Let's go."
"...Where are we going? You haven't even let me say anything about your Free Skate!" Yuri protested quietly, feeling his hand getting taken to make him follow, "V-Viktor...!"
The Russian seemed to be on a mission, pulling the hapless younger skater along until he'd finally found a certain familiar hall and the abandoned offices at the end of it. Once inside, Viktor pulled the door to, peered outside one last time just to be sure, and then finally clicked it quietly closed. He dropped his backpack to the floor, and leaned his back against the panel with a deep sigh of relief, pulling a hand up to his chest, "Whew...! It's finally over!"
Blue eyes glanced up, and the dopey-happy look on Viktor's face changed to dopey-happy-but-defensive as he spotted Yuri with his arms crossed staring straight back at him.
"What the heck is going on?" The shorter figure asked, looking around the empty space, "Why are we even back here? You just put on the greatest show this world has ever seen and now you just want to hi-"
Viktor had let Yuri talk for too long already. He listened for a few seconds, but the confused mumblings of a man who hadn't yet gotten the hint were becoming tedious. It took two and a half steps to thump his skate-guards forward and slide his hands under the shorter skater's arms and around his lower back, pulling the man against himself as he looked down into those brown eyes.
"...Yuri..." He said quietly, thoughtfully, "You're over-thinking things. Didn't we have a deal before?"
"Eh?" The younger man blinked. He'd lightly set his hands against the silver skater's forearms, but he was entirely unsure what to do after that.
"After my Free Skate...you're supposed to help make me feel better again, right?" Viktor teased, though sounding serious, lowering his head where his skates had given him an extra few inches to tower over his husband, speaking the words against the tip of the man's nose, "I know just the thing."
"EH!?" Yuri finally caught on, and for a second, his heart threatened to leap out of his throat, his face turning a shade of deep crimson, "R-Right now!? Here!? But there's only 4 skaters before the medaling ceremony and one of them is already out there!"
"It'll be at least 45 minutes." The Russian purred, teasing the edge of a kiss without fully allowing it, "And I need my Yuri right now."
That one visible slate-blue eye was seductive enough to make resisting almost impossible. But...being the modest young Japanese man that he was, Yuri still had some wits about him. His right hand came up, quickly putting one finger in front of his partner's lips to stop his advance.
Viktor blinked, but reluctantly let the man go, not sure if he'd done something wrong or not...but when he spotted Yuri looking at the office couches lining the wall, only to get to the end of one and shove it up against the door, he realized his premature feelings of rejection had been for nothing. But his husband wasn't done yet. Yuri grabbed the backpack from where it had been on the floor by the door and tossed it his way, proceeding then to reach for the scarf hanging loosely around his shoulders and slowly pull it off. The Russian was stunned where he stood, hugging his arms around the over-packed bag, watching with intensely curious eyes as the scarf came loose and was discarded on the end of the nearest couch. The heavy coat came off after that, then the hoodie under that, and Yuri loosely rolled them all up on top of one another to set next to the scarf. When his arms crossed to pull at the sides of his t-shirt, the skater had already turned around, back facing his enthralled husband.
Yuri had the garment half-pulled-up when he glanced over his shoulder, wondering what the hold-up was, only to see the man's gaze watching intently at every newly-revealed inch of his skin. He paused where he was, the t-shirt slipping down a little bit as he twisted slightly to face the older skater a bit easier, "...What's wrong...?"
"Hah?" Viktor's eyes twitched a bit at the words, and he shook his head to regain his focus. The shirt finally came away, slowly going down the younger man's arms, that pale back now fully bare to his sights. He scanned every contour, every muscle, the ridge of every bone...that perfectly honed core, tight and hard from nearly 2 years of intense physical training. For reasons the Russian couldn't pin down, the sight of his partner in that moment brought tears to his eyes, and he hugged the bag even tighter then, "...Yuri, why are you so perfect...?"
The younger skater saw the look on his husband's face, and smiled sweetly despite his nerves, stepping closer to take hold of the fingers of one hand clenched around the bag, pulling on them gently to make Viktor let it go. When the hand came loose and the arm came forward, Yuri stepped in a little closer, guiding that hand around his side, only letting it go again when he felt those fingers against his waist. Both of his hands went up to the Russian's shoulders after that, settling gently so his thumbs could touch softly to the sides of the man's neck, sliding up a little to get over the collar of his team jacket and then sliding down again into the folds of fabric. He looked up into the one visible slate-blue eye, and tilted his head just-slightly to the right as he moved in closer, "I should be asking you that."
The bag fell to the floor between them rather quickly after that, and Viktor lightly kicked it forward with one skate as he stepped into that kiss, leaving it to rest at the base of the couch that Yuri had moved in front of the door. Fingers grasped for skin, those on the left sneaking an inch down into the younger man's dark-colored jeans, the other wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close.
Yuri started walking them back, sneakers shuffling across the thin carpet until he could feel the edge of the couch against the back of his knees. His hands slid off his partner's pale neck, reaching for the half-undone zipper on the front of the black and red jacket, unclipping it at the bottom and pushing the fabric off the Russian's shoulders.
Viktor let the garment slide down his arms until it was caught at his bent elbows, and he let his husband go only long enough to let the fabric swing off his hands to join the growing pile of clothing at the other end of the couch. Fingers went back to his partner's cool skin, sliding up that bare chest and settling on the man's shoulders as Yuri started to sit. The Russian was eager to taste his husband's lips again, quickly moving in to sit on the man's thighs and cup his head in his palms to bring him forward. He could feel the younger figure's hands trailing down his own chest and sides, sliding over his legs and reaching for his skates, still pressing into the kiss all the while, but pulling on the boot covers with deliberate intent. The 'charred and burnt' fabric came up over the toes and heels on both sides, making it easier to get at the laces beneath the leggings.
Were it not for his knees pressing into the back-rest of that couch, Viktor would've already been sitting on his husband's lap, almost desperate to feel the grind...but that would have to wait for when his skates were off. Yuri was already trying for it on one side, leaning awkwardly despite not wanting to leave the warmth of the kiss, but finding his efforts meaningless when he wasn't looking at what he was doing. The Russian pulled back barely an inch, nosing his partner fondly before the both of them wordlessly agreed to suffer for a moment to get those blades off, each twisting to the right to work on opposite sides. Laces unthreaded as quickly as each skater could pull on them, both boots thumping to the floor soon after. When the pair were both upright again, Viktor wasted no more time, sitting up a bit and nudging on one shoulder to twist the younger figure lengthwise against the cushions, reclining him against the pile of clothing and coats. The silver man was immediately on him after that, mounting over ready hips and pushing into him as he leaned forward to kiss at that pale neck, weaving both arms around Yuri's sides and under his back, feeling his husband's arms going over his own shoulders in turn.
It wasn't one of their usual positions. Yuri had gotten so used to his partner being between his legs at that stage of the 'dance' that feeling the man sitting on top of him instead was rather strange. He supposed he could count on one hand the number of times it had happened while they were still clothed and fooling around...at Four Continents when he had told the man to rip his shirt open before realizing he still needed it for the Banquet; at Worlds, just after their accident with the cold water in the shower; on their La Première voyage between Skate Canada and Trophée de France, when he'd climbed on top of the man to avoid watching Sinister on the television...Yuri was sure he'd probably forgotten one or two, but by and large...still counting on one hand. The pressure was growing, and he couldn't resist starting to roll his hips.
Maybe it was the suddenness of the whole situation, but the Russian felt that slow push against him and could feel that his husband had gone from 0 to 60 already. He rose up from where he'd been kissing just under the man's ear and ran his hands all the way down that pale, cold chest, goosebumps rising up on every exposed inch. He sat back just enough to give his fingers access to the button and zipper he'd been right on top of, undoing each of them slowly, feeling his partner's hands sliding against his legs where they parted over him. Fingers gripped tightly on his thighs when that tender flesh was brought out into the light, and the Russian took it in hand as he leaned back over his husband's chest, kissing lightly at his chin and jaw as he returned to that favorite spot on Yuri's neck, just under his ear. He licked and kissed and nibbled to his heart's content, sliding down from that spot to the man's collar-bone and back up again, teasing a bit higher as he moved to the skater's chin. He paused there for a moment, half-lidded eyes looking into the wanting hazel irises beneath him, and he watched contentedly as the expression on his partner's face changed just-slightly with each pull and stroke. It was bliss to see Yuri clench his eyes shut and gasp loudly when he started rolling his hips into the pattern of his hand's motions. Viktor's free arm came up after that, rising from where it had been parked palm-down on the younger man's chest, sliding that hand under the back of Yuri's neck to support his head.
Yuri's own right hand came up in turn, grasping at it just above the elbow as he turned his forehead into the bend, pressing harder against it as each twist and stroke forced him to vocalize. Soft, breathy whimpers and harder, reluctant gasps, each getting louder as the Russian worked magic on his flesh. Those brown eyes forced themselves to open, turning where he'd had his head sideways against his partner's arm, then looking at him straight on. He brought his left hand up from where it had still been clamped down on the man's thigh, bringing it up behind his neck to weave his fingers through silver-grey hair, "Look...at how horribly overdressed you still are..." He managed, Viktor's hand still going about its business between them.
"So are you." The Russian teased, leaning into another kiss as he pulled his arm back from under the skater's head. He reluctantly backed off his partner's hips and scooted down to the far end of the couch, reaching for the backpack whose contents he'd been hiding since earlier in the day.
Just as Yuri was sitting up to wiggle out of his jeans, he heard the zip from the backpack, and felt the sudden impact of a huge blanket being thrown at him, knocking him right back down again. As arms scrambled to get around the bedspread, he could hear more rustling, seeing past the edge of the huge fluffy mass on his chest where the Russian had neatly set his costume jacket across the short coffee-table in the middle of the room. He felt the stiff cushions shift under him a little where the man had stood up, and spotted the top of that silver head past the blanket as well. Yuri shook his head and quickly rolled back up to sitting again, doing his best to throw the thick sheet over that end of the couch before the skater could sit back down again, then briefly standing up himself as well to rustle the blanket over the pile of clothing. Just as he was about to make short work of the remains of his own clothes though, pushing them down just far enough to be able to sit down again, he felt another pile of fabric and fluff come flying at him. His arms went around it again like before, this time realizing it was a pillow...and he felt his legs get grabbed and pulled up, turning his whole body around to where he was at originally. He squished the pillow against himself so he could look past it, and saw a sultry look in his husband's pale blue eyes. A moment later, his pants were being pulled off his legs; not even his socks were spared. He lifted the pillow above his head and put it down behind himself just as he heard the click of a bottle-top being pressed open.
Viktor had his palm cupped as the clear liquid started to drip down into it, and though at first he only slathered it onto himself, a second round of the slick gel went into his palm, and the Russian reached over to smear it all over his partner as well. From root to tip, back down again with a slippery twist, all over the tender squishy bits beneath it, between his legs...everywhere it needed to go. The bottle was clicked closed again and set down on the coffee-table with a tak, and the Russian twisted where he sat to crawl back over his partner. He slipped in on hands and knees, lowering down to his elbows over his husband's chest, but spotted a strange look in the man's eyes and stopped, huffing a laugh, "What is it?"
"...How did you even...?"
The silver legend turned his head, looking at the deflated backpack on the floor, then back at his partner, "What...?"
"Is this all from the hotel?" Yuri asked differently, "How did you manage to get everything into your backpack?"
"With tremendous effort and some swearing."
"...You? Swearing?"
"Only on special occasions and usually in Russian, but not always."
.
"GETINTHEGODDAMNBAG." He commanded, holding both sides of the backpack open as his foot stamped down on the pillow wedged down at the bottom. It just puffed back up again and overflowed past the edges once he pulled his foot out, "CHYORT VOZ'MI!"
.
"So you planned this the whole time." Yuri wondered, a brow raised as it dawned on him that it should've been obvious, "Since this morning, when you originally asked if we'd be going back to the hotel before coming here."
The Russian just smiled innocently, tilting his head where he pivoted on his chin, "It might've crossed my mind that I'd want to make good on my promise to finally take you during a competition, once I'd gotten my head clear after the Free Skate." He slipped his hands, one slippery, the other not, under his husband's back and started to kiss at where he'd stopped on his chest, pausing only to smirk at his 'genius,' "It's incredibly arousing to skate all my anger out. Once I was in the kiss and cry, it was all I could think about." He explained, knees still holding the bottom half of him up, but slowly sliding back so he could lower down, "I didn't even care what the score was...all I wanted was to get it over with so I could drag you back here and..." He pressed himself down against his partner's lithe frame, lifting his head only high enough to see the reaction on the man's face as he slid along the length of him, "...see the look in your eyes when you realized what I was going to do. You had me scared for a second there, you know."
That Viktor could still talk normally while rubbing against him was astonishing, but Yuri's mind was already a blur. He only managed to regain some sense about him when he felt the slick grind slow down a little, "...Sorry...nh..."
The Russian kissed at his partner's neck again, switching to the other side this time, "Don't be. I hadn't thought about how to keep the door closed in case someone came looking for us. Good thing you did." He teased the tip of his nose against sensitive skin, sliding up just far enough to be able to get to his partner's lips again. He breathed a contented sigh as he started another series of deep kisses, right hand coming out from under the man's back and sliding down the length of him, all the way down to just above the knee, reaching down under it to pull it up against his side, "I don't know how long we'll get away with being missing before people start looking for us."
"Quit stalling then." Yuri mumbled, "We don't have m-much time...ah...! ...anyway..."
"As you like, koibito." Viktor mused, sliding up hard one more time to reach his partner for another kiss, then pushing up to sitting, wedging his knees onto either side of his husband's hips, drawing the man's other leg against his side to join the first. He waited a moment there, gently stroking where he'd brought their members together, savoring the sight of his partner's thin but muscular frame arching at the sensation. It was an even more tantalizing sight when Yuri raised his arms over his head, pulling his core taut like a bow. The Russian's free hand wandered up that hard flesh, stroking from abdomen to chest, then down the man's side, holding to his waist as his other hand maneuvered him into place elsewhere.
After such a long and stressful afternoon, Yuri was rather tense, and Viktor could feel it before he'd even truly done anything. There wasn't enough time to ease his lover into the swing of things as he'd normally do, so he moved slowly. At first, just gently sliding up against him, not even attempting to slip inside yet. Viktor brought his left hand back around, sliding his palm gently along the man's inner thighs, over his core, over and around his center, touching everywhere he could to offer as a distraction. He turned his pale eyes up towards his partner's face, looking for some semblance of relaxation, waiting for eyes to be closed lightly rather than clenched shut...and only then, gently pressed forward.
Yuri's legs came up instinctively at the first sign of pressure, knees trying to pinch together in front of his partner's chest, muscles tight. As the slight discomfort faded, his legs relaxed a bit again, and Viktor slipped a little further in. Calves and quads were taut where they pressed against the Russian's ribs, but his hands came up from where they'd clenched around his partner's thighs, reaching up instead to scramble for grip on both shoulders. His right hand found mooring, so the left went back down to the cushions, and Yuri pushed up onto an elbow as he pulled the Russian down in turn, pressing their foreheads together as he braced himself. Only three inches in...several to go.
"...If it hurts, we can just finish like we do on off-nights..." Viktor offered, feeling a little bad suddenly, "I don't mind..."
"N-no...it's okay... I want to..." Yuri insisted, "It's been a long d-day...I need you... K-keep going..."
"Okay..."
Viktor paused where he was, leaning forward to set his husband back against the pillow pile, sliding both hands over the man's chest and back up again as he shifted how he sat. Angling a little differently then, he planted his palms on the blanket just next to his partner's waist on each side, withdrew slightly, pushed back in only as far as he'd been before, and then withdrew again. He didn't dare go further until he could feel his husband's body accepting him, and even then, went deeper very slowly, only a fraction of an inch on each slow push. It was only when he finally felt Yuri's legs relaxing against his sides that he felt safe to lower himself onto his elbows, kissing at the top of his partner's chest as he neared to it.
Yuri's hands held fast to the upper part of his partner's arms after that, gripping just below the shoulders and squeezing tight there when he felt the man's hips flush against him. Feeling the member fully inside him was still uncomfortable, but it wasn't as bad as initially, and the slight pain was something of a relief in itself. In its own way, it was like the pain he'd felt on his first true attempt at bringing his husband into his body. Just the fact that he'd finally been able to do that for Viktor made everything else worth it.
"You're amazing...!" The Russian whispered, nuzzling affectionately at his partner's neck.
The feeling of déjà vu was intense in that moment, hearing those same words as had been said before. Everything after that was different though. Back then, it was such an awkward and uncomfortable situation that neither of them had gotten relief in the end. Yuri had dropped from exhaustion after 20 minutes of trying, and Viktor had refused to leave his side, pulling both of their clothes back into place before gently stroking his then-fiancé's hair until he fell asleep. But after nearly a year, experience told them how to make it feel good in the end...and Viktor always found a way.
A slow, shallow withdraw, then pushing forward again, doing the opposite of what he'd done before to get that far in. A slow rolling of hips soon shifted to more purposeful thrusts, able to pull out further before going back in. Methodology changed back over to love-making, and the Russian returned to nosing his husband's lip, kissing him and nuzzling at his neck and ear as the push-and-pull went on. Eventually, he rose back onto his hands, stroking the right along his partner's leg where it was curled around his waist, and picking up speed. Content that Yuri had finally loosened up enough, Viktor twisted to the side and pulled his lover's leg around in front, moving to lie down behind him, wedging himself between the skater and the back-rest of the couch, pushing in from behind then.
Yuri let himself go limp there, spiky black hair tousled against the pillow as he could feel his partner kissing at the back of his neck and shoulders, keeping up the rhythmic roll of his hips. Kisses and nibbling on his skin soon changed to a gentle bite, and Viktor held there as he focused on moving his hands down the man's core. He pressed his cheek against a shoulder when he finally felt at center, starting to pull and stroke there while he pushed in with more force from behind. He felt Yuri's left hand coming up over his side, reaching behind himself to settle a palm against his hip, hesitantly starting to utter quiet gasps with each thrust.
Viktor hugged the man with one arm, the other still working at his partner's center. He could tell he wasn't quite hitting the mark yet though. The younger skater's voice hadn't gotten to that whimpering-gasp sound yet, so after a little while of trying to find it, he moved again. He pushed one hand against his husband's upturned left hip and rolled him onto his stomach, then mounted him again, stretching out across the man's entire back. He pressed gently kisses against his partner's shoulder as he wedged his hands under the man's sides, sliding in under Yuri's chest until he could cross his wrists around his front, then started the hip-rolling again. From that angle, it was a little better, but it still wasn't what he wanted.
Knowing better than to leave everything to someone who couldn't feel what was going on, Yuri moved his back and legs just slightly, tilting his hips slowly until the Russian's thrusts were doing what he wanted them to. Sweet-spot found, he reached for the pillow and stuffed it under his core, helping hold himself in that position without having to work too hard. That's when the needy-urgent gasps started coming out of him, like music to his partner's ears. Yuri's arms curled close to his head, helping the muffle the sounds, but the need for air soon superseded to hope to stay unheard, and he was quietly starting to cry out into the dim light of the room.
"Ohmygod..."
It was exceedingly rare for the young skater to make any kind of coherent statement in the midst of their romps. When he did, Viktor became laser-focused, not wanting to deviate his path even a micro-meter, lest he lose the hot-button that set his partner's blood alight. He did press harder though, watching the man scramble for something ahead of himself to grab and hold onto, finding the Russian team jacket just under the edge of the blanket. Yuri bit down on it as his cries and gasps got louder, eyes clenched shut against the growing intensity of the feeling.
"I'm close..." He managed to utter, "V-Viktor...!"
The silver Russian didn't miss a beat. The arms he'd crossed in front of his husband's chest came out again, hoisting the man up onto his hands and knees, then further up onto just his knees. He withdrew completely and moved around to face his lover, kissing him several times as he moved in to lie down on his back where Yuri had been face-down a moment before. Pale hands reached forward for the man's hips, guiding him back into place and drawing in a hissed breath when he descended onto his length. The younger figure's hands balled into light fists against his chest, and Viktor brought his own hands back to hold to them gently, pulling the right forward only to kiss the ring on it before setting it the few inches back to where it was. He rolled his hips upward after that, carefully switching his glances from his husband's face to his center, wondering if he'd be able to get him over the edge without touching him in front again. He himself was close as well, but Viktor refused to let it happen before he'd pleased Yuri first.
That's when it started though...the beginning of the end. Yuri was losing the ability to hold himself up, elbows bent where he was starting to dip forward. Four more solid thrusts, and the young skater squeaked a muffled cry, gasping for breath as hot liquid dripped down from him, flowing slowly to his husband's stomach, even as the man kept rolling his hips under him. Viktor wasn't long behind, wrapping his arms around where Yuri had fully dropped down against his chest, breathing heavily and trembling against the crook of his neck and shoulder. The Russian was unapologetic when he felt release, crying out quite a bit louder than his partner had, pushing to half-sit-up again even as he kept thrusting his hips, going as deep as he could before finally letting it go and falling back down again.
Both men just lay there heaving for breaths, each of them slightly shaking from relief, though Yuri's tremble went on for quite a bit longer.
"H-How long do you...think it's been...?" Viktor wondered, gently stroking his husband's back, "30 minutes...?"
"Who kn-knows...?" The younger figure answered, trying to push himself up to sitting but failing miserably, dropping back down again twice before the Russian helped him, letting him lean back against his up-turned knees like a chair, "I didn't...check what time it was when you...when you came out of the kiss and cry..." He brought his hands up towards his face, sliding them down over his cheeks and neck until settling them there over his collarbone, still trying to catch his breath, "Too busy thinking...I'll never beat your score..."
"Really...?" The Russian said quietly, but then smiling like an idiot, "I don't even remember what I got."
Yuri nearly choked on himself, sitting forward with a stunned look on his face, "Wh-what!? But you-"
"What'd I score...?"
More stunned gawking, "Just under 240!"
Blue eyes went wide suddenly, but Viktor did the only thing he could think of... One hand came up to his mouth and he grinned behind it, "Wow~!"