(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to update. I got on a sudden Hannibal kick and spent most of the week watching all 3 seasons (for like the 8th time, but it's only the first time since seeing YoI last year.) It occurs to me that Hannigram (which is cannon according to show runner Bryan Fuller) is so similar to Viktuuri. Handsome genius foreigner (with similar hair! XD) comes in and completely uproots the mild-mannered sometimes-glasses-wearing dark-haired undiscovered prodigy, takes him under his wing, and teaches him everything he needs to know for them to be equals. At the end, they're so into one another that the younger even starts to emulate the elder's sense of clothing style. Fun NAD Fact: "SkateHusbands" was actually borrowed from Hannibal, when Freddy Lounds referred to Hannigram as "MurderHusbands" lol)
CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
Getting ready, from bed to business-suits, had taken far longer than either Phichit or Chris had expected. By 15 minutes, they were putting their ears to the door to listen for any sound of movement within the room, only to be put back in their place to wait some more. It was 30 minutes before the door opened again.
The sleepy duo had finally finished getting ready. Yuri stepped out first, wearing a dark-navy suit with a lighter-blue striped tie, his hair slicked back, and glasses on. He adjusted where they sat on his nose as he stepped forward, glancing back momentarily for his partner, who was grabbing the DND door-knob sign to hang on the outside handle. Viktor wore a dark gunmetal-grey suit, which bore a certain glossy shine, and a black tie. He'd made a dubious effort to style his hair, but it mostly just looked like he ran his fingers through it a few times and called it 'good enough.' The pair reached a hand between them, lacing their fingers together, and started walking for the elevators without a word or nod of acknowledgment to the 'besties' who had come to fetch them.
At least, until Viktor remembered that Chris had his phone. He paused dead in the hall, turned on a heel, and held his free hand out, palm up. Chris placed the device there wordlessly, and waited for Viktor to put it away before following after them again. Oddly though, Viktor had kept his eyes straight on the Swiss skater even as his hand sought after a pocket. Those eyes didn't turn again until the phone was stowed and Viktor was satisfied that no one would say anything.
Not that it was true once he did turn around.
"You might want to brace yourselves." Chris warned, pocketing his hands into his blazer, "After all the hubbub leading into the Final, you two are practically the Guests of Honor."
The pair in front side-glanced one another; the bags under their eyes was more telling than anything else though.
"Chris is right," Phichit added, though sounding a bit more nervous suddenly, "Everyone is really excited about having you two turn up at the Banquet. Since you tried to bail, it's going to be an even bigger deal when you do turn up. If you guys just give them all looks like you want them to drop dead though..."
They walked a few more steps, those words sinking in. Yuri finally dipped his head and sighed, pausing just around the corner from the elevator lobby. He pulled his partner aside and let the other two by to summon a carriage, whispering into the man's ear, "...They're right. We can't just go up there, get our stuff, and go-"
"Your stuff." Viktor corrected.
"...-back to bed." Yuri went on, trying not to let the technicality upset his train of thought. He glanced back at where Chris was looking at his phone for the time, and then back to Viktor, seeing the dark circled under the man's eyes, "...I know you're exhausted. Believe me. I am, too. The longer we're walking around, the more my head swims and I just want to sit down. But we can't take it out on others. You already spent most of today being cranky because of our morning upset, but..."
"But?"
"...But...technically you did wake up on your own in the first place."
The ding of the elevator cut through the air like a hot knife, and the two more-alert skaters stepped within, holding the door until their zombie-like friends joined them. When the doors opened a second time, leading the way to where the Banquet was in full-swing, the music emanating from within the huge conference rooms was louder than either hazy Nikiforov anticipated.
Of course, as soon as they managed to get within the last doorway that separated them from the party, the music suddenly got quieter. Viktor started dragging his feet, staring straight ahead with glossy eyes, even as Chris and Phichit were getting further and further ahead.
Yuri eventually had to pause, feeling the Russian languishing at the end of his reach. He saw the unhappy-neutral look on his husband's face and sighed where he stood, "...Come on, Viktor...the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave."
"I really don't want to. Not...not this time." He answered sullenly, eyes slowly sinking towards the floor, feeling as though he might nod-off where he was, standing or not, "I can't keep doing this."
Hesitating, Yuri recoiled the distance between them and slid an arm behind the man's back, "You left your head on the pillow downstairs."
"Would you hate me if I asked to stay in the hall while you go ahead?"
Yuri could only make a subtle face at that, but glanced around, seeing a few small plush benches lining the walls, and motioned for his spouse to go towards the nearest one, "I'd only hate to leave you here on your own while I go ahead without you." He explained, turning to help Viktor sit, and then crouched before him, hands on the man's knees as he looked up past those silver bangs, "Normally, you can hardly stand to keep in the background of things. You always want to jump into the forefront and make grand declarations."
"...Normally I don't feel like I have a fish-bowl for a head." Viktor answered quietly, "Maybe if Chris and Phichit hadn't gone banging on the door, I'd be more awake now...but at this point, the adrenalin-rush of having them trying to break the door down to get us up here has worn off, and I'm feeling even more tired than I did when I woke up on my own in the first place."
Yuri paused for a moment, hinged on the edge of those words, not quite sure how to answer. The changing narrative in the main room of the Banquet could be felt in the hall already, and it seemed like the anticipation of the event's 1st and 2nd Gold medalists was growing. Yuri looked to the side, towards the doors where Chris and Phichit had disappeared, and then back to his worn-out husband. Seeing the slow blink, those eyes closed for so long that Yuri wondered if the man had fallen asleep where he sat, only to blearily open them again, made up his mind. He stood up, and reached for Viktor's hands, pulling on them to get him to stand up as well, "...Viktor, koibito...go back to bed."
"...Eh?" The Russian gaped with a half-conscious haze, shaking his head like he thought he hadn't heard correctly, "...Say what?"
"Go back to bed." Yuri repeated, bringing his hands up to gently press against each cheek, "I'll follow after you as soon as I can, but I won't torture you with this. You're just going to get bombarded and that's not fair to you right now."
Viktor was still stunned, but the very idea that he had been given permission to go back to sleep was enough to make his brain go into overdrive to make it happen. He gave a weak nod, pressing his face against the warm palms still cupped over his skin, felt the kiss, and lifted his head again, "...Make sure you wake me up, okay? I want to know that you got back safely, otherwise I won't really sleep at all."
"I will." The younger man agreed easily enough, pulling his hands back to make way for Viktor to turn away, "Don't wait up for me though."
"Yuri! Viktor!" Phichit called, looking nervous, as though the rest of the attendees were doubting his and Chris' account that the two skaters had actually come with them.
Yuri waved at his friend, but then turned back to his spouse, giving one last quick rub against the man's back before sending him on his way towards the elevators, "Love you. I won't be long."
The Russian gave a weak smile to acknowledge the words, but a yawn interrupted his attempt to reply. He felt the final pat on his rump to make him leave, and he started heading back the way they'd come.
"Yuri!" Phichit called again, coming entirely through the doors to grab the man's arm, only to spot Viktor walking away, "Whatishedoing!? Whereishegoing!?"
"I told him to go back to bed." Yuri answered matter-of-factly, "He's in no frame of mind to be here. Since he dropped from the competition at the end, he would only really be up here on my behalf as a coach anyway. I can't ask him to force himself to stay awake for the next two or three hours just to sit at a table in the background."
Phichit had no rebuttal to that. Three seconds later, he wouldn't need one anyway, as he felt a hand take hold of both him and Yuri, dragging them both into the conference hall.
.
Viktor finally found himself on the precipice of the hotel room door, and slid the key-card into the slot, pushed the panel in, and stepped inside. He didn't even bother with turning any of the lights on as he fumbled his way over the threshold, simply casting his finery onto the floor, sloughing his shoes off, and using his hands to find his way to the edge of the bed. When he managed to fall into it and crawled under the covers, the silence that greeted him was deafening.
...This is almost worse than sleeping in the car two weeks ago. At least then, Yuri was a thousand miles away and unreachable...but here, he's just upstairs, and it's only circumstance that he's away from me.
He drew in a breath, and reached for the pillow that his partner had slept on, squishing his face into the middle of it as he hugged it close to his chest.
...I'm sorry I can't be there with you right now, Yuri. I just can't keep...my eyes...open...
To say that Viktor had fallen asleep in that moment would be an understatement. More truly, he'd fallen into a coma. Though he'd been fully aware of how fast he'd faded, the speed to which his mind shut down was a surprise even in those waning seconds before the void took him. An eternity could've passed and he wouldn't have noticed it. It was the kind of sleep that felt like the null-existence of the time that went by before one was born; 13.7 billion years, and not a second of it noted. The abrupt hyper-awareness of reality as the light-switch of life was turned on though...that couldn't be missed.
"Viktor...Viktor, wake up."
Eyelids felt like lead, but he managed to open them anyway, even if only a crack.
"Make a noise or something and I'll let you be."
"...Y-Yuri..." Viktor mumbled in a haze, seeing the blurry outline against the dark, recognizing only the voice that accompanied it. He felt the movement in front of him; the sudden swoosh of a cool draft against his bare skin as the blankets were pulled up, then the warm slide of another body pressing in against his own. He could feel his right arm being pulled over, and his shoulder being wedged between the side of the other body's chest and another arm. His cheek settled flush against that rising and falling frame, and he closed his eyes again, letting himself go limp against it.
He didn't manage to fall asleep again right away though. He listened to the rhythmic beat of that heart for a few seconds as Yuri settled in, but then slid his left arm under his partner's back and squished his face against that chest as tightly as he'd done to the pillow (in what felt like) seconds before, "You're back."
"Tadaima." Yuri answered quietly, turning slightly in the Russian's embrace, moving his own arms around the man's head to return the hug, "Go back to sleep..." He whispered against that silver hair.
"How long were you gone?"
"Four hours."
"...Must've been...one heck of a party without me."
Yuri huffed a laugh, "Don't say that. I caught a second wind and then no one would let me leave. I've been trying to come back down for three of those hours. I only managed to get away because I said I had to pee. I bet they're all wondering where I am now."
"Hmm...not for long." Viktor mused, kissing the spot he'd mashed his face against before turning his head and lying it down again, "Is the sign still on the doorknob outside?"
"Mh."
"Then...let's pick up where we left off before we were so rudely interrupted."
Nodding, Yuri kissed the crown of his husband's head and let himself relax, "I'll tell you what happened in the morning." He said quietly, feeling as his right leg was caught by and pulled between Viktor's, holding it there like a knee-pillow. The silver legend was out like a light after that, the squeeze of his arms relaxing a little. Yuri just held to the man's head for a little while, smiling to himself as he rubbed his thumb slowly back and forth just behind one ear.
.
The room was still pleasantly dark when the 10:30am alarm rang from Yuri's phone. It was a quiet, gradually increasing chime that was easy to rouse to, which was a mercy in itself. Yuri eventually reached behind himself to find the device and quiet it, and pulled it from the charging cable, noting the time before he set a 30 minute snooze and let the phone fall to the sheets. He returned to his husband's back after that, nuzzling in closer to enjoy the contrast of the warmth to the cool room-air where his arm was now on top of the covers. He idly kissed at the back of his partner's neck for a little while, trailing to the edge of the upturned shoulder, and then back down again.
Before making it half-way though, Viktor seemed to rouse a little, and turned his face up just a moment before turning the rest of himself onto his back. He felt thin fingers come up against his jaw as lips moved from shoulder to chin, then a short ways up from there. The kiss was light, but lasted a while, as though Yuri had fallen asleep in the midst of it and simply stayed where he was with their lips together. The feeling of the younger man's left leg coming up over his thighs made it clear that Yuri hadn't drifted back to sleep though, and the hand that traced his jaw started moving down, tracing a line down his neck, and over his chest. It settled against his ribs there, anchoring softly as Yuri's leg continued its slow journey upward, bent at the knee and brushing lightly against every contour and muscle. It seemed to park quite deliberately just above a certain morning sensitivity, pressing in a little more firmly then as Yuri's own slid closer, effectively sandwiching that length of needy flesh between stomach and waist.
The gentle roll of Yuri's hips against the Russian's side was a welcome gesture after the previous morning's interruption, and Viktor answered it happily, feeling a gasp against his lips as his hand reached across to take hold of his partner's member. He felt fingers pressing hard against his ribs as Yuri tried to grasp him, drawing in a hissed breath as own fingers went around to clasp and grip. The slow and gentle twists and tugs were received gratefully as quiet, whimpered breaths were dragged across Viktor's skin, and breathed against his lips. He managed to slip his free left arm under his partner's thin waist, and rolled his hips just once against the leg over him before turning fully to more easily see that flushed face.
Yuri moved his hand from ribs to shoulder, his right arm pinned under his husband's neck where he stretched it out, breathing a bit heavier than before. He could feel a palm pressing against the small of his back, sliding upward between his skin and the sheet beneath him. It cupped around the curve of his side and pulled him closer, the right hand still working at his center. The leg he'd draped over the Russian's side pinched inward a little, and Yuri felt the telltale rub of a second member joining his, sliding up and rubbing down between the curve of encircling fingers. Yuri's breaths became more vocal, each exhale like a quiet but desperate whine. That wasn't the only growing sound though; the slide of dry skin was more-and-more becoming slick and wet. Yuri could feel himself losing the battle for composure against the sensation, and he almost entirely missed it when Viktor made him turn around, facing him away and pressing in against his back. Both arms were around him again, the left still under his waist, that hand moving down deep between his legs, the right curving over the other side to continue the slippery tugging and twisting in front. The feeling of the thick, slickened length of flesh rubbing up behind him was of no consequence; Yuri's mind was entirely elsewhere in that moment. He was pliable in the Russian's embrace, kisses felt on the back of one shoulder before trailing down to the center of the back of his neck. He felt the tease of silver hair brushing against his skin, then the press of a cheek as pressure began to build further down.
Viktor slid through that cleft of skin as his hands continued at their task, fingers and palm of the right kneading the slickened head of his husband's morning urge, the left fondling and pressing further down. He knew he was pleasantly overwhelming the younger man's senses when Yuri could hardly move, falling limp like a ragdoll. That body accepted him eagerly, the wet heat of the inside wrapping around like a glove that fit only him. He pressed his hips hard and firm against the curve of that limp frame, pushing in as deeply as he could before gently pulling his hips back again. The slow but purposeful roll, in and out, in and out, was nothing like the fevered pitch of the night before. Viktor felt a hand reaching back, weaving through his hair as Yuri grasped for anything he could find. He withdrew his left hand from service then, moving up to wrap that arm around Yuri's core, holding him firmly as his hips pressed in a little faster.
The pressure of the Russian's body, practically form-fit against Yuri's back and legs, was titillating enough on its own. The added pressure within him was intoxicating. Nothing was out of place; everything felt good. There was always something uniquely sensual about feeling Viktor's hips pressed flush against the back of his own, moving only enough to withdraw slightly and then press in again. The added attention in front made it all the more exciting. The morning romp was, altogether, a different experience than the nightly one. The morning was more personal; more like a sublimely erotic cuddle than the desperate breeding of the evening. Yuri could never decide which he liked more...though often, it would simply be whichever he was experiencing at the time.
"...You're so sensitive in the morning." Viktor suddenly whispered, drawing Yuri's mind from the prior thought, "You can hardly move."
"...I need you..." Yuri whispered back, letting his head drop a little where he'd lifted it to listen, his frame going limp again, "...I need you deeper..."
Viktor was all-too-happy to oblige, using his arms to hold that thin body still as he pressed in further, drawing an exquisite song from his husband's lips. He repeated himself two more times before slowing down again, and freed his right hand to roam all up and down the front of his partner's body, the left clutching behind one hip where it could.
Being on their sides was too restrictive, to Yuri's mind. He wanted to feel more. One hand being perpetually pinned under him meant that was one hand less that could feel him. He forced himself to move then, pushing back against his partner's frame, and forced him to roll onto his back. Yuri laid out on top of him, back to the Russian's chest like before, but facing the ceiling then, knees bending up as toes perched on top of the man's thighs, blankets falling away from them. He leaned his head back, pressing it into the space above his partner's shoulder, and tilted his head away as he felt lips seeking for his neck. Hands moved more freely over him then, just as he'd wanted, even as the rhythmic pressure rolled into and out of him from below.
When Yuri's back started to arch, pulling away from his chest, Viktor knew he'd gotten the man close to the edge. He noted how Yuri's feet couldn't keep to their perches on his legs, sliding to the sheets between or beside them as his core tightened with each subsequent breath. He let his right hand roam south again, reaching for the throbbing member that had been neglected for a while. The touch of those fingers alone seemed to be enough, and Yuri suddenly cried out, body clenching tightly. Viktor wrapped his arms around his husband, the twitch and spasm of Yuri's release putting him over the edge soon after. It wasn't too long before Viktor let his partner slide down to the sheets again, heaving for breath even as they both felt the aftershocks of their finales.
Their skin tingled, and electricity prickled from within. Yuri was a bit surprised to hear the Russian whispering a laugh against the back of his shoulder, and he twisted onto his back to feel that warm breath against his chest instead. A few kisses trailed over it before those blue eyes found hazel, and Viktor settled his chin down against a collar-bone, "Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it."
"Well, you have no cause to be cranky anymore...so I hope it's a good day..." Yuri agreed quietly, threading his fingers through those silver bangs, brushing them out of his partner's eyes, "We can take our time getting to that press conference and then meander to the airport."
"I've never been so happy to go home after a competition before." Viktor mumbled, the words half-obscured by where he had his lips pressed to skin again, looking down, "Forgive me for last night. I wasn't going to make it though."
"Don't worry about it. Nothing out of the ordinary happened."
"Ordinary by our standards is somewhat extraordinary on occasion." The Russian refuted.
"True..." Yuri agreed, his voice barely a whisper. He lifted his head a bi to look at his partner more evenly, "I mean it though. It was fairly ho-hum. No drunken strip-tease or Snap. No dance-off. It was fairly placid and subdued."
"It took you four hours to come back to me though."
Yuri pushed up onto an elbow, "Trust me, it's not because I was having too much fun. Every time I got out from under someone's thumb and thought I could make a clean get-away, someone else would want to talk to me. All the attention that had been on the both of us in the running to the Final was heaped onto just me at the conclusion of everything. We had missed the Banquet at Worlds last year, too, so a lot of people who'd found out about us being married were only just now getting to comment about it. All things considered, last night was the first time most of these people had ever really talked to me, too, since I was always too shy before. Without you there, it was like everyone was meeting me for the first time all over again. It was a bit strange."
"Really?" Viktor hummed, "Have I changed you that much?"
"You say that like you think it's a bad thing." Yuri lowered back down to the pillows again, settling one hand against the back of the silver legend's shoulders, rubbing his thumb there slowly, "I don't think I've changed... I've just...gotten to a point where I can be myself with more people than before. It used to be a really small circle of friends that I'd known for years. Now I can talk to just about anyone." He lowered his gaze to look at the top of his partner's head, and smiled, "People are already starting to ask when you're going to be accepting new students. Seems everyone wants a piece of the Nikiforov Magic that you gave to me."
Viktor chortled, and drew his arms in a bit to hug his spouse, "That magic is purely for you, and you alone."
"Oh, if we're talking about that magic, then yes, I should hope so." Yuri huffed and amused laugh, but then shook his head, "I meant the kind that you're willing to offer to others though. You'd be pretty in-demand if you opened yourself up to teaching more people."
"I'm still competing. I don't have the luxury of that much time on offer." The Russian explained, "Plus, we're borrowing time from the Ice Castle just for ourselves. It would be meaningless to offer coaching to others if I can't get more than a few hours a week on the ice."
"So we'll buy the Ice Castle."
Viktor stumbled in his thoughts to hear it, and drew in a sighed breath as he folded his arms over his husband's chest, and rested his chin on them as he looked forward, "You were talking to Mikhail again last night."
"I couldn't avoid him the entire time."
"He's the only one crazy enough to suggest buying a skating arena like it's no big deal." Viktor went on, "He needs to stop assuming everyone has as much money as he apparently does."
"He has way more than you think. Maybe it was the champagne talking, but he offered to buy the Ice Castle on our behalf, and then either sell it to us for less, or let us lease it from him."
Viktor just made an annoyed face at the idea.
Yuri could feel the tension, and abruptly dropped the issue, rising up onto both of his elbows then as he was saved by the loud rumble of his stomach. He could see those blue eyes still staring at him intently though, and he found himself brought right back around to the topic he'd mentally walked away from just seconds earlier, "...Well, it's something to put on a back-burner somewhere. Revisit it another day, a few years from now."
"Mikhail can't buy my forgiveness." Viktor said abruptly.
"...I don't think that's why he suggested it." Yuri explained, "At any rate, it's not like I signed or agreed to anything. I was just kind of...nodding and smiling...while I looked for an escape opportunity. Odds are, we'll run into him at the press conference just because Yurio ended up taking Bronze home. After that, you won't have to deal with him again until after Christmas."
"...Two weeks of just us...before everything goes crazy."
"Don't spoil it for yourself before it happens." Yuri offered, pushing to sit up all the way, and watched as Viktor did the same next to him, even as the man leaned forward to wrap his arms around his knees. Yuri settled an arm across the man's back and leaned against him, "If you convince yourself ahead of time that it's going to be miserable, then you're just setting yourself up. Don't let Mikhail have that much power of you. Hasetsu is still our place."
Viktor leaned his head slightly, touching it to the side of his husband's forehead, "I'm trying not to think about that at all right now. I'm actually more worried about doing Nationals on my own. I could tolerate it if you were there, but you can't be, and as popular as I am back home...I don't really have any friends there, least not in Moscow. It's just Yakov and Yurio, and Mila I guess. Professional associations, some just longer standing than others."
"Don't think about it for now. We're still at the Grand Prix Final for the moment. There's lots that can happen over the next two weeks...so don't borrow trouble. Maybe it'll work out, and you'll be able to mend the wounds between you and your uncle, so being around him in Moscow will be a good thing."
"Mhnn..."
Yuri's stomach growled again, and he gave an anxious laugh to hide it, "...I can't offer anymore pearls of wisdom until I've filled this abyssal maw in my gut. Let's get something to eat. We'll both feel better."