(Author's Note: Just making sure everyone saw that I posted 401 & 402 yesterday. If you didn't read about the end of the Banquet, go back before you read 403~)

CHAPTER FOUR HUNDRED THREE

Yuri was surprised at how soundly Viktor still slept in spite of his sitting on top of the man. Not that he was making himself that obvious, but under normal circumstances, the Russian would have at least stirred slightly to the feeling of pressure on him. With the possibility that it would take more than just his presence to rouse his partner, Yuri set to his task. He rubbed his hands together a few times to warm them, blowing a few breaths between them as he brought them up to his mouth, then gently set them on the pale skin before him.

Chiseled like white marble, but soft as velvet and warm to the touch, Viktor's chest rose and fell slightly with each quiet breath. The contour of each muscle, even when relaxed, was something any man could envy, and once again, Yuri found himself feeling lucky that he was the current, and to his hope, the last person who would ever get to put his hands on that body. Fingers and palms slid softly from the soft curve of the silver legend's lower core, up towards his chest, only to turn and follow the under-curve of those pecs, over rippling intercostals, and up to the underside of each arm, only to slowly pull towards the center of Viktor's chest again. Yuri moved his hands down slightly, feeling the ridge of each abdominal muscle, then up again, over the chest, and touched his fingertips to the edge of each collarbone.

Viktor had his head slightly turned against his pillow, hair lightly tousled over it, exposing the side of his neck. Lips pressed gently onto that skin, moving up to place a few light kisses under one ear. Fingers slid deftly over each arm, tracing through the curves between biceps and triceps, around the elbow, then up again over the softer velvet skin of naked forearms towards the wrists.

Yuri slid his fingers around as those arms became narrower, cupping his fingers under the backs of each hand where they were pressed into the pillow, and slid his thumbs into the palms, clasping there lightly for a moment as he kept on with the feather-light kisses on his husband's neck. In an effort to wake Viktor up then, Yuri lowered down to the collarbone again, and trailed the tip of his tongue back up to where he'd been under the ear. It seemed to work, and he smiled as he continued on, feeling fingers clasp around his thumbs and hearing the surprised hiss of a breath being sucked in. Legs moved under him, only to relax again as the silver Russian realized they wouldn't be going anywhere.

"Morning." Yuri teased, barely lifting from his kisses to speak the words against that slick skin.

"Mmnnh...you forgot to call it what it is..." Viktor mused, still keeping his eyes closed as he leaned his head further away to give even more access.

"'Good' morning?" Yuri wondered, teasing the tip of his nose upward some, tracing a thin line over the edge of his partner's jaw and the curve of a cheek, stopping only when he felt warm breaths against his lips.

"Is that all it is right now?" The Russian wondered, cracking those eyes open only enough to see his husband's outline against the dim lights.

"'Great' morning then."

Viktor lifted his head up, nudging his face against one cheek to whisper into his spouse's ear, "Any morning where I wake up with Yuri Nikiforov straddling me is an amazing morning~!"

Yuri huffed a quiet laugh against the lips that came before him again, nosing them softly as his partner relaxed to his back like before. Fingers spread and wove together above the man's head, and Yuri felt the slight buck-up of hips under him as Viktor closed in for the kiss. They held there for a moment, tasting and teasing each other, before Yuri sat back up, sliding his fingers down his husband's arms and chest, settling them palms-down on the Russian's stomach. Cherry-hazel eyes admired his soulmate's physique for a few seconds before Yuri started scooting backward slightly, moving down his partner's thighs until he was about half-way down to the knees.

"You're awfully overdressed for this," Viktor pointed out quietly.

"There've been occasions where you've helped me feel good even when you weren't in the mood yourself." Yuri answered, hands sliding further down the Russian's front until the palm and thumb of his right curved over the thick outline of eager flesh, dragging the fabric of the bed-linen with it until it came completely away, "...So even if the pilot isn't on in here," He tapped the side of his head with his free fingers, "There's an inferno in here." Hand came down over the center of his chest, pressed over his heart, "And my heart's desire is and always will be to see you happy. You won't take me unless I'm into it...but I don't want to neglect you either."

"Can I light that pilot by saying that I know Saito isn't in Osaka anymore?" The Russian attempted, giving a breathy exhale as he felt himself taken in-hand, buckling slightly under the first few strokes against his arousal.

Yuri's expression hadn't changed though; he could only manage the mental fortitude to blink in half-surprised acknowledgement, "...Maybe when we get home."

"Mh...guess it was worth a shot." Viktor's hands went down his own frame, seeking for the knees perched on either side of his legs, and rubbed his thumbs there gently through thick black denim, "Your humble servant will graciously accept whatever magic you see fit to offer him." He teased, giving his spouse a wink behind silver bangs.

The brief worry of potentially disappointing him quickly left Yuri's anxious heart, and he reached up with his free hand, pinching his fingers around the thin blue arm of his frames, pulling them past long spikes of almost-deliberately half-dressed hair. If nothing else, that stylishly unkempt mess of raven strings gave him a post-sexy-time look anyway, and the way those glasses were pulled away, with those eyes half-lidded in a sultry early-morning gaze, set Viktor's blood on fire. It wasn't enough that Yuri did all that though...he had to put the end of one arm of those frames within his lips, holding his glasses there between his teeth as he maintained that unblinking eye-contact. He smirked to himself when he saw his husband losing that battle of wills, letting out something of a reluctantly-choked squeak of a grunt as those blue eyes closed and Viktor became helpless to his touch.

"...S-So much...Eros...!"

The Russian was almost too easy to please then, each tug and twist of Yuri's hands around him dialing everything straight to 11. The 'build up' was entirely skipped.

Yuri could feel each unconscious contraction of muscle in his husband's flesh; each body-wide clench, release, and trembled breath. That thick but lithe form under him was practically aching to his whims. He huffed a quiet laugh to himself and then leaned forward, continuing the expertly deft strokes with his right hand as his left travelled up that pale body. Glasses were dropped softly to the bedsheets before lips found their way to unblemished white skin, kissing lightly around the curve of the man's navel. Fingers groped for the rounded edge of Viktor's chest, found the small nubbin Yuri was after, and brushed his thumb over it, feeling the body-wide shudder it sent through his husband's frame as it passed under him.

Viktor sucked in another hissed breath, happily letting himself become more vocal with each release of air. He cried out even louder, and twisted up slightly onto an elbow, as kisses went from his stomach to his center, fingers encircling him and descending as that wet heat enveloped him from above. He fell to his back again and brought his arms up above his head, fingers going through his own hair, elbows pressed closely above his face. The intensity of each suck, the texture of each lick, leaving a trail of wet heat followed by cold, was making him lose his mind. He couldn't find the focus to look, but he felt Yuri moving lower against his legs again, even booting one of them out from under the blankets where it was precariously close to the edge of the bed already anyway.

Sheets and blankets were pulled further away by quick-working hands, and that evicted leg was pulled on top of what remained, but Yuri was sure it stayed bent away from him to keep them both parted for him. Freed fingers went softly down the inside of that exposed thigh, then up, then down again, eventually coming to rest under center to offer some much-needed attention to a pair of squishy bits found there.

Clenching hands were pulled forward again, and Viktor bit down on a knuckle, feeling the heat move from tip to root. He could feel himself forgetting to breathe, needing to consciously suck in air every few seconds just so he could gasp it out again, voice quaking. He couldn't help but move his free hand down, combing fingers through raven hair a few times before pulling it back again, gripping tightly at the sheets. Yuri had put a finger against him and was starting to press, thumb doing much to same slightly higher up. He hissed slightly as the finger went in, and the two massaged at one another through him, rubbing against a particularly sensitive spot between them. Wet heat returned to the tip of his arousal, and all three sensations worked to push him towards finality. He unclenched his hands from where they were and reached instead for one of the pillows behind his head, pulling it up and squishing it down against his face, voice crying out, muffled, but loudly against the fluff. One last jolt of teasing electricity arced through his body before one last hard rub of a tongue over the head put him over the edge, and suddenly that tease became a storm inside him.

Viktor effectively screamed against the bottom of the pillow, every muscle in him clenching up, but Yuri kept on with his task for a little while longer, unrelenting even after the taste of seed filled his mouth. He felt the pulse and twitch of that member against his lips, the way it almost tried to pull away from him and hide from his attention. That white fluid of climax was like the white flag of surrender, and that flesh ached to get away; excited, flushed, and overwhelmed by him. When he was sure those pulses had been milked as far as they'd allow, Yuri gave that flesh one last kiss, and let it gently down against its owner's stomach. He glanced up from his efforts, and leaned forward against his hands and knees, pressing down to lie on top of the man as he caught his breath.

It took a little while, but eventually the Russian calmed enough to pull the pillow up. He still panted to get his breath back, and his skin twitched all over. Slate eyes looked down to where he felt that chin and cheek pressed against the front of his ribs, and his gaze was matched by one still admiring its handiwork. Viktor reached one shaky hand forward and pat his husband's head, "...You'll...be proud to know...I've never yelled like that before..."

"So I did good?" Yuri mused, finding his glasses again to slip them into place.

"...Y-you..." He huffed and puffed his breaths as he tried to answer, "...You never cease to surprise me... Now I'll have to work extra hard so you scream like that, too."

Yuri's face went red in spite of everything he'd just done. He saw the Russian nudge his head slightly though, and easily took the invitation, crawling further up the man's body before lying down again, cheek pressed eagerly to the side of that pale neck. His husband's arms went up over his back as his own wiggled in close to Viktor's sides, hands curling up over the man's chest, and he let himself exhale a contented sigh.

"...Whew..." Viktor went on, still heaving a few breaths as he pet his partner's hair, "I'm gonna be feeling this one for a while..."

.

With some of the swelling resolved, the silver legend's ankle was looking far better than it had the night before. Still tender though, it was at least able to squeeze into a regular shoe with the brace on, even if the laces couldn't be tied up like normal. Viktor walked on it tenderly...but at least he walked.

The grand trip back to Hasetsu began with the deposit of luggage to the concierge desk for safe-keeping, then to check-out to turn in key-cards. A brief trip outside to let Jiro have another wee followed, then back inside to the restaurant to meet what remained of Team Kyushu. Minami, Hikaru, and Yuto were already there and ready, finally free from the heckling of their coaches for the time being.

Breakfast was calm, but fun, with Minami regaling the tale of 'Yuri's Aria' all over again, only for him to 'rile up the base' and get the other two less-than-master skaters worked up about their own comparatively-minimal quad repertoires.

Yuri set them straight with a simple reminder, "I was 23 already before I really figured out the advanced stuff, and I still had to get a lot of help. You can't imagine how embarrassing it was to have to ask Yuri Plisetsky for help on landing a quad Salchow."

"Isn't he your friend now though...?" Minami wondered, bits of rice and egg stuck to his face where he leaned over his bowl.

"Sure, but he wasn't back then. And think about it...Viktor came to Hasetsu after seeing a video of my sorry self doing a quad Lutz and Flip back-to-back...but I couldn't do either in competition." Yuri nodded, reaching for a triangle of buttered toast, "Imagine how frustrating it is that you physically can do the jumps, but only under specific circumstances. I mean, just my rendition of 'Aria' yesterday is a perfect example... Normally, when something's on my mind, I can't land jumps at all... But I was so out-of-my-mind with worry and fear that I stopped thinking outright. I ended up not even realizing how many quads I did. I only heard about it later on."

The trio of barely-Seniors deadpanned him from the other side of the table, "How do you not notice doing 8 quads?"

Minami was the only one who picked up on the subtext, "...Why were you worried and scared? You weren't even being scored anymore..."

Yuri hesitated, but he felt a hand come down on top of his leg, giving it a gentle squeeze, and he settled again, "There was some stuff that happened with Asahi that got between Viktor and I. I was terrified that it would be enough for us to split up."

Light-brown eyes were wide in shock, "Wh...what? You can't split up! You're my favorite couple!"

"We never came close to that point," Viktor explained, calming the teen down slightly, "It was just a misunderstanding."

"Stuff like that gets to my head too easily," Yuri added, leaning slightly to rest his head against his husband's shoulder, "That's one of the only draw-backs to being in love... You just...feel so much more strongly about everything. I mean, at that Regionals competition I had to go to with you guys...Viktor got upset at me because I ignored you," He looked straight at Minami, "But even after he set my blade-guards down and walked away for a while, the worst I thought was, 'how am I supposed to stay motivated now?' It never even crossed my mind that Viktor would actually leave me. I just had to learn the lesson he was trying to teach, and he came right back. Yesterday though, the lesson wasn't quite so clear..."

"It wasn't just a lesson for you though." Viktor pointed out, picking up a piece of bacon between his fingers and biting a bit of it off for himself, giving the rest to Jiro, who was nomming on a piece of fried potato under his seat, "That's probably why it wasn't so obvious. It was something we both had to learn from. The class might've been the same, but we got different messages from the lecture, so we came away with a different understanding of the same problem."

"Youguysaresosmart." Minami fawned.

"Oh don't say stuff like that," Yuri teased, nibbling on his toast, "We're both pretty dumb, actually."

"We're the dumbest geniuses you've ever met!" Viktor laughed.

.

The train ride out of Osaka was as much of a relief as it was swift. The city quickly vanished into the distance, tracks leading them towards Fukuoka. Still, even with Osaka quickly becoming a memory, and the sound of Minami and the others being hyper all around, Yuri couldn't help but reflect on it all. He leaned against his husband's shoulder again, hands clasped together on the arm-rest between them, and looked out through the windows into the snow-covered countryside.

"You've gone quiet again, my love." Viktor's voice spoke quietly, cheek rubbing against the top of the younger man's head before a kiss was set down in the same spot.

"So Asahi left before we woke up, huh?"

"Mh."

"How did...you know?"

"I guess you were too tired to remember," The Russian surmised, "He came to say goodbye at the end of the Banquet. He's doing like you said you would...going to Wakkanai right away instead of waiting."

"Really?" Yuri lifted his head in surprise, "Wow..."

"He should be there by now." Viktor went on. He turned slightly and leaned forward to kiss the edge of his partner's shoulder, feeling the texture of the suede-leather against his lips for a moment, "I imagine he'll need some time to himself for a while once he's done up there...but I did invite him to reach out if he needs help with Olympic stuff after we're back from Euros. Weird as the situation is between us, even I can't deny the fact that there's a point where we have to put the sport first, and leave the rest on the sidelines for a while. He's a liability on the ice for us."

"...A liability?" The younger man echoed in confusion, "Why?"

"He's never been an Olympian-"

"Neither have I."

"I wasn't done." Viktor made a face, "He also hasn't competed at the international level since before Sochi. He mentioned meeting me once, way back, at a Grand Prix event...but what's the Grand Prix Series to the Olympics? Maybe if it had been the Final, but..."

"Oh...yeah, I guess so."

"He's okay with us taking command of the Men's portion of the Team Event." Viktor continued, "So he'll compete as hard as he can for the podium at the individual level. I think it'd be funny if the three of us were up there again."

"It wouldn't bother you?" Yuri wondered, slouching down slightly in his seat so he could more-comfortably rest his head on his husband's arm, keeping Jiro safely and securely on his lap while the pup napped.

"I'm petty enough to want to see all 3 spots on that podium occupied by people from Team Japan. As it happens, that's you, myself, and Saito. It doesn't make any difference who the third person is, but..." The Russian mused, resting his cheek against his partner's crown, "...I have more reason than most to want to see RSF lose. I'm even willing to coach Saito for a little bit if it gives us a better chance of keeping the Russian flag from flying over the Gangneung Ice Arena."

"Yurio's just going to love that."

Viktor laughed sadly, "Yeah...it's pitiful. He wanted me to go back to St. Petersburg with him so bad and be his coach, and now I'm in a position where he's the last person on this earth that I'm willing to coach."

"Well...he can't expect anything from you until next season." Yuri pointed out, "You didn't agree to be his choreographer until then."

"Mhm. And this is for the Olympics... If everyone on Team Japan wanted to come to Hasetsu for last-minute speed-coaching, I'd take them on in a second."

"Don't say that too loudly..." The younger figure teased, "You might get your wish."

Minami leered down at them from above the back of their seats, "Personalized coaching from Skating Legend Viktor Nikiforov, huh?"

"Olympians only, Smol Nugget," Viktor cracked one eye open at the teen and nudged him back into his own seat-space with his free hand, "You couldn't afford my fees anyway."

"You coached Yuri-kun without charging him."

"Pfft," The Russian scoffed, "I told him he could pay me after he won Gold at the Grand Prix Final, that's all. Since he won Silver, he owes me 5 World Championships instead. He's already gotten one..."

"Would Olympic Gold count for anything?" Yuri wondered with a hesitant laugh at his own expense.

"You have a whole wall to fill up with Gold medals, my love," Viktor pointed out with a smirk, "No substitutions."

That just made Yuri sigh dramatically, "...Shimatta..."