CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY
It was a moment of good fortune for once, that the banquet was being held in the same hotel that the participants were sleeping in...since a particular pair of skaters had become too sauced to safely leave the building unattended.
"SNAP." Yuri hollered in a haze; he'd already lost both shoes, one sock, and his blazer by then, and was still in the process of tying someone else's tie was around his head. He was red in the face and there were 8 or so empty flutes of champagne on the table near his side, as well as one empty whole bottle, and two half-drunk glasses nearby.
A group of people looked at the cards that had been smacked onto the table-top. Unfortunately, they were a Jack and a King; similar, but not the same.
Viktor pointed across the table and grinned; he'd lost his tie and one shoe, and around 7 champagne flutes littered his own side of the game, 5 more half-full, "STRIP."
"Ah jeeze." Yuri whined, looking down and pulling the second sock off.
They each reached for the deck of face-down cards to the side, pulling up their next lot. They eyeballed the card faces, then one another...raised the cards up...and slammed them down on the tabletop.
Eyes raced across to see the second card, and again, Yuri yelled, "SNAP!"
The cards were the same that time; Aces.
Yuri cheered, then pointed across at the Russian, "YOU STRIP!"
Viktor huffed, but laughed and shrugged out of his blazer, setting it over a nearby chair, "Thought yours was a 4." He straightened out his vest after that, and they both reached for the next hand of cards.
Phichit and Leo were standing back, recording every bit of it, though the American skater seemed to be finding it difficult to keep a straight face as he watched to two older figures combating one another in such a strange way. He leaned over slightly and whispered, "This could get R-rated in a big hurry!"
"I know!" Phichit laughed, entirely unrepentant, "Yuri would never do this if he was sober!"
Several rounds went by that way, segregating the athletes from their coaches, who were hiding on the other side of the room.
"They're doing it again, aren't they?" Celestino wondered, avoiding the excited skaters like the plague.
Yakov had his back to them entirely, "Those idiots should be banned from drinking. Ever."
There was a sudden ruckus of cheering and a few loud girlish shrieks, catching their unwilling attention, and the coaches got a distant eye-full of Yuri unbuttoning his shirt, only to change his mind at the last second about which article of clothing he was about to lose, and threw his pants off instead. Literally. Across the table, landing one leg across Viktor's left shoulder.
The Russian, who had only removed his vest by then, just smiled, "You're losing, Yuri."
"I haven't lost yet. Draw!"
Cards were pulled from the top of each deck again, smacked down onto the table, glanced at quickly...and skipped. They both could tell the cards were different...even in their inebriation, it wasn't hard to tell apart a numbered card from a face card. One was way more colorful.
Yuri grabbed for another glass of bubbly, drinking half of it before setting it back down again for the next draw. The two players eyeballed each other and pulled their next cards, looked at them, and dropped them back down to the table-top.
"SNAP!" Viktor yelled, sure of his call, only for the group to collectively start cat-calling for his loss.
"Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!" They chanted.
The silver skater just leaned far over the table to make sure his failure was certain, seeing the 6-card there where his own had read 9. Blue eyes glanced up into hazel, and Yuri just smiled innocently as well as he could through his alcohol-tinted haze.
"What are you waiting for? Viktor..."
Undeterred, the Russian pushed back up from the table-top, "I see how it is." He mused, suddenly looking like he was about to take the game rather seriously, "Two can play it that way." His hands reached up for the button at the top of his dress shirt, and he milked the anticipation for all it was worth, slowly undoing one at a time to the fanfare of the crowd until he had to tug the bottom from his belt. The last button still clung to its loop, the rest hanging open precariously, giving a teasing hint of that pale skin underneath. Those blue eyes just focused across the table, and the Russian gave one of his most seductive smiles, even lightly biting his lower lip, slipping the last button open and letting the silky white fabric gently tumble off his shoulders. The crowd that had gathered around to watch them was frantic with excitement.
Phichit had to stop for a moment and take another 'Oh my' selfie with Viktor's half-naked frame in the background, but next to him, Leo was starting to look around for tissues to plug his nose.
Yuri drew in a breath, crossing his arms, and gave his partner a look, "You think you can win by cheating, I see." Hands went to his hips after that, and he gave a devious huff of a laugh, then reached up to tie his 'battle bandana' on a little straighter, "Think again, Viktor. Your ultra-sleek and toned core, with those abs that could cut diamonds, can't save you."
"Is that so."
"Draw."
They pulled their cards again, and like before, Yuri smacked his down...but Viktor went more slowly, setting his card down gently on the table-top. They both still had their palms down on the card faces to conceal what was drawn, but the Russian leaned in closer, holding in anticipation. Both men then finally pulled their hands back from their cards, but Viktor kept his eyes forward, giving a half-lidded glance at the figure on the other side.
He then just smiled and winked.
Yuri stammered.
"Snap."
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The crowd roared.
Both cards were 2s.
"Howdidyoueven-" The younger skater's eye twitched in disbelief, "YOUDIDN'TEVENLOOKATTHECARDS!"
"Didn't I? What were you looking at?" The Russian purred, leaning down onto his hands where they came to rest on the edge of the table. He nodded his head at his husband and gestured a finger at him provocatively, "Strip."
The 'Super-Drunk Eros-Katsudon' didn't let the challenge go unanswered, and cocked his head aside only enough to jostle the side of his already-open shirt off of one shoulder. He licked his lips and let the fabric slide, staring straight into his partner's eyes the entire time.
"OhmygodYurisasexbomb!" Phichit stammered, watching the whole thing unfold where he was recording it on his phone, "IwashisfriendalltheseyearsandIhadnoidea!" He reached to grab Leo around the shoulders with one arm and pulled him in frantically, "DOYOUKNOWWHATTHISMEANS!?"
"N-No!?"
"Guang Hong should be here for this! He'd appreciate it!"
"Guang Hong is younger than me and barely legal! His innocent eyes couldn't handle this!"
"He's turning 20 next month!"
"HE'S A BABY."
"Phthbpthbbthphthtpthpt!"
Viktor was quite pleased with the sight before him; his husband shirtless, and one side of his own tie hanging precariously from the man's lips. He smiled and pointed at it, "Since I had a vest, I'll give you that tie as an extra piece of clothing for you to lose."
Yuri glanced at it in his drunken stupor with half-lidded eyes, "You want me to take this off?"
"It's a freebie, to make it even." The Russian seemed quite proud of his generosity.
"If you want me to untie this from my head..." Yuri started, crossing his arms again, "...You'll have to come and take it from me."
Eyes went back and forth between the two skaters, the crowd collectively gasping at the challenge. People had their hands over their mouths in surprise, and they eventually settled on waiting for the older man's reaction.
Viktor just snapped his head up, his hair flicking dramatically...and then one foot went up onto a seat. He leaned an elbow onto that upturned knee, and looked across the table, "Is that so."
Flushed and courageous, Yuri nodded, looking defiant and teasing at the same time, "It is."
The silver genius' free hand went to the table cloth then, and Viktor leaned forward over the pristine white surface, cards and champagne flutes all around, "Then it seems to me..." The elbow on his knee came up, and that hand stretched out ahead of him, settling down on the center of the circular table, "...That I might have to..." He crawled right up onto his hands and knees after that, to the excited but breathless squees of the crowd, watching as the legendary skater slid gracefully across the pale field, getting right up into his competitor's face, barely an inch between them, "...Take it."
"I dare you to try."
"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!" The crowd hummed.
Viktor just huffed a confident chuckle, sliding up a little further to he could sit on his knees, parting them just onto either side of his husband's hips where he stood at the edge. He reached one hand up towards the hanging ends of the tie, touching them lightly with deft fingers to move them out of his partner's face, "Do you really?"
"Mh."
"Then I accept." The Russian purred, getting in tantalizingly close, able to feel the warmth just over his husband's lips. He looked into those deep brown eyes for a few seconds longer, giving Yuri one last chance to back off...but Liquid Courage makes fools of the proudest men...and the normally modest and sensible Japanese athlete was undaunted. He stayed where he was, motionless like stone...until he felt the kiss.
The crowd roared with screams and cheers, half of them yelling in disbelief at the display. They watched as Viktor's right hand went around the back of his partner's neck, holding the man still through his passion, the other hand come up to pull the tie from around his head, stopping the kiss only long enough to twirl the tie around victoriously and cast it aside before going back for seconds.
With half his blood-stream replaced by champagne, Yuri didn't care who was watching or how many phones were recording. He could feel his lover's hard and willing body against him, skin to skin, and raised his arms over the man's shoulders as he leaned in closer. Hands went around his back, and before he knew it, Viktor was pulling him forward, dragging him up on top of himself right there on the table-top for all to see. Cameras flashed all around, especially when the Russian's fingers started sliding down his back, grabbing for unseen flesh under that last vestige of black clothing clinging to his hips.
And then Viktor was gone.
"That's enough of that." Celestino said stiffly, dragging his former student away rather unceremoniously.
"Waitletmegobackwe'remarriedit'sokayCelestinooooo..." Yuri pleaded, wriggling ineffectively as the older man hefted him across the floor. He could hear Yakov yelling a lecture at Viktor, dragging him off the table by an ear and turning to sit him in a nearby chair, quickly gathering up the man's clothing and tossing it at him, "Viktooorrrruuu..." Yuri whined, his accent slipping a little.
"Trust me, Yuri...you'll thank me later for this." The coach insisted, setting him into a chair at the Team Japan table and looking up to find a speedy but red-faced Phichit coming up with all of his friend's clothes, "What room is he in?"
"They're on the 27th floor." Phichit answered nervously, seeing how Yuri had slumped against the table, still trying to wiggle his way past the older man holding him down, "...I'll show you."
It felt like barely an instant had passed. Yuri blinked and he was in his room again, his blazer over his shoulders and the rest of his things in his arms. He looked down at everything blearily, his attention then caught by Celestino and Yakov shoving Viktor into the room after him.
"SLEEP IT OFF." They both yelled, pulling the door closed in an embarrassed huff.
The two dazzled skaters just kept their eyes on the door for a moment, blinking in confusion as the door all-but-slammed shut, leaving them in sudden silence.
Viktor turned around to where Yuri was standing further in the room...each of them waiting half a heartbeat before they both dropped all of their things where they stood. The Russian came right up at his partner, pulling him into another series of passionate kisses, picking up right where they left off on the table-top upstairs. Hands went right back down into the younger man's figure-hugging shorts, grabbing a handful of unseen skin before they both fell into the bed together. They rolled and tussled several times, pushing clothing away in a drunk and desperate need to feel each other, eventually rolling right off the end of the bed, and landing in a heap on one another on the floor in front of the television-stand.
They paused only a moment to take in the absurdity of having forgotten where the bed ended. Yuri had landed on top when they fell, and he pushed up on his hands, looking down on his partner's face with all that silver hair in a mess around him. They only managed a second or two before they both broke out laughing at the sight of themselves.
Yuri kicked off the remnants of his clothes and sat on his partner's hips, feeling around the top of the television-stand for the small bottle he thought was there.
The Russian had risen to sit up, twisting around and reaching his arms down to his legs to try and shove his slacks away. His excitement had gotten too severe to be interested in waiting any longer, and he snaked his arms around his husband's torso, "Forget it, it was just a bottle of water."
Hazel eyes looked down into blue, but before anything else could be said, the Russian was already inside him. Yuri gasped; half in surprise, half for the sudden discomfort, but then relaxed again as it went away. Alcohol always made some things easier, and that was one of them. He could feel his husband's hips starting to rock under him, even as he was being pulled back down to the floor, the heat getting a little deeper with each push.
In the end though...none of the inconvenient little details mattered...and both of them were too blitzed to care.
.
.
.
Yurio could barely open one eye at a time as he waited in the airport with Minako in the pre-dawn hours of Monday morning. She was wide-awake next to him, one arm settled over the carry-bag on her lap, the other propped up on an elbow with her palm under her cheek. She looked a bit anxious, but the bleary teen didn't need an explanation for why that might've been.
The Russian Tiger yawned loudly, but pulled his phone out. Seeing the time, 5:54am, he knew there was another 30 minutes to go before their plane might even taxi into the docking bay. He reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, and clicked into Instagram to pass the time. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary...JJ was getting ready for the Final, showing off his new costumes...Yurio's Angels were posting their good-luck content...Georgi had commented a dramatic apology to his fans for not making it to the Final (again) and that he would work hard for Russian Nationals...Phichit had posted a video of Yuri and Viktor making out on top of a tab-
"God-fucking-damnit." The teen grumbled, scrolling past as quickly as he could.
"What...?" Minako wondered, turning her head to glance at him.
"I'm going to need to bleach my eyes when we land. I think I saw Katsudon's ass in that picture..."
"...Haven't you seen it a thousand times already? You guys used to sit in the onsen together."
"Sure, but Viktor didn't have grabby-hands all over it back then." He shot back, realizing there was no end to the risqué photos and videos, "Jesus Christ, did everyone at the Banquet post pics of them screwing?" He stuck his tongue out in disgust, waggling it like he thought he would puke.
The ballerina leaned over slightly to see what he was looking at, and got an eye-full of the whole situation, pulling back with her cheeks reddening, "...Oh Yuri...Kyuushu born and bred..."
"Gross." Yurio gagged, going back to the top of his feed where the content was safer, "I never thought I'd say so, but if I had to pick between them and you guys, I'd rather hang out with you. At least you and Mikhail aren't obnoxiously public with yourselves."
Minako smiled nervously at that, "I guess that's a compliment...?"
A new picture posted, this time a composite of both skaters being dragged off by their respective former coaches. The Russian burst out laughing at that, and shoved the image into Minako's line of sight, "GET A LOAD OF THIS."
She blinked at the screen, unable to see anything where her nose was nearly smudged against the glass. She reached her hands up and moved the teen's arm a bit further away, finally able to see what he'd been chortling at. Yuri was wriggling like a wet cat in Celestino's arms, naked except for his underwear, and Viktor was being scolded like crazy by Yakov, while being dragged off by his ear in nothing but his fancy dress-pants. Minako wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry, simply letting the blonde have his hand back. She huffed a nervous whisper of a whine, remembering the photos she'd seen from the previous year; Phichit's 'Oh My' photo from the Cup of China Hot Pot incident, and then in Barcelona when everyone was sharing Sochi Banquet pictures. She crossed her arms over the carry-bag on her lap and made a strange 'it can't be helped' face, "...Well, if anyone ever wondered what it would be like when those two got drunk at the same time...now we know..."