It surprised me seeing you today... I was wondering, do you want to meet again? Tonight?
I'd love to, Yuuri. :) I liked your skating, it was very beautiful.
I did well, I might have a chance at winning?
You're top 6 of something, right? That's impressive. Where do you want to meet? And when?
What about a restaurant?
I'd love that. What about London Bar? At 7?
Yes, London Bar. 7. I'll see you there.
I liked your hair today. 3
Yuuri wore his hair slicked back, but he felt conscious about it. Was he really trying to impress the blonde? He wasn't sure, but he knew that he has skated well today, and he felt nervous. He wanted to eat, but the bar didn't have that much stuff that he liked. He wished that he could lay in his room, eating unhealthy stuff, or maybe find a place that sold katsudon. But he also wanted to meet Viktor again. And the man soon came through the doors, Yuuri would have noticed him even if he wasn't looking towards the door, staring, waiting for them to open. Viktor was wearing a simple grey hoodie, over a white button down shirt, and tight, black pants. Viktor looked just like everyone else in the bar, no one could think that he didn't belong. That he was different from them.
It was dark, and they were playing soft, jazzy music. It seemed like a calm, nice place, but not really the place that Yuuri wanted to go to that evening. The skater felt out of place in his black turtleneck and the matching black pants. He had dressed up, and he liked the feeling that Viktor had done the same. That they had dressed up for each other. "Viktor!" Yuuri raised his hand and waved at the man to come over to him. Viktor lit up and moved closer to the two low leather armchairs with a small table between them. It created a comfy setting in front of the windows overlooking Sochi.
"Hello." Viktor sat down with him. "What are you drinking?"
"Oh, just water."
"Nonsense, let's get champagne." Viktor said and smiled at the man.
Yuuri looked at him, at the smiling eyes, and then he nodded. "Yes, champagne."
Viktor raised his hand, and a waiter came over. Viktor ordered for them, champagne and some bite sized things to eat. Yuuri liked hearing him speak Russian, it made his voice different, a lot deeper. He also liked that Viktor felt comfortable enough to take charge of things. It made Yuuri able to relax a little bit more. They sat silent for a few moments as the waiter left them, but then Viktor spoke. "So, Yuuri Katsuki, ice skater."
Yuuri laughed. "I guess that's why I liked that you were discreet."
Viktor smiled kindly, but he felt nervous. "I won't say a word to anyone," he promised. "I'm Viktor Nikiforov, fair should be fair. Although, I am not a famous ice skater." He knew that his name didn't matter that much, but he wanted Yuuri to know it.
"I wouldn't say I'm famous," Yuuri laughed nervously.
"You're the top six? That have to be good?"
Yuuri shrugged. "It's my first time in the Grand Prix, usually you get in pretty early and I…" The waiter interrupted them, coming back with the plate of small nibbles, and the champagne. There was a very familiar pop, and soon they had two glasses in their hands. Yuuri grabbed a blini with some salmon on top of it as soon as he could. It tasted really good and complimented the champagne. For a moment, Yuuri worried that Viktor had picked something very expensive. I can afford that though, he thought to himself.
"I'm confident that you'll win, you did so well. I don't remember half of the terms, but it looked amazing." Viktor laughed. "Of course I'm not an expert, but you did well today, didn't you?"
Yuuri felt himself blushing, but he nodded at the man's words. "Yes, I'm currently at 3rd place." Yuuri swirled his glass around. "I've practiced a lot and… I'm happy you liked it. Have you watched skating before?"
"No, never, I guess I should since I'm Russian, but sport doesn't interest me." The blonde shrugged. "I guess I'll have to from now on." Yuuri blushed heavily at the man's flirty words. It really felt as if he was wooing him.
They talked about everything. Yuuri did most of the talking, he spoke about his life back in Japan, about his life in Detroit with Pinchit, that he didn't know what to do with his life. Viktor didn't share that much information about his own life, only that he was originally from much further north than Sochi, and when Yuuri spoke about his favourite food, Viktor told him what he liked to eat. They talked about dogs, about museums and art. And somehow Yuuri ended up telling Viktor about his first time. They giggled like school girls the whole time. "I was a trembling mess, I think I lasted two seconds inside of him. I was so nervous. And then I didn't try again until I got my boyfriend in Detroit…"
Viktor's smile faded for a short moment. "You have a boyfriend?" Why did that worry the blonde? He had slept with married men, married men with kids his own age even. But, it did bother him.
Yuuri was a bit tipsy, but Viktor was used to the alcohol, they had not had that much. "No, no, not anymore." Viktor felt relieved, but he wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if him and Yuri could have a relationship with each other. Viktor sighed a little bit. He was getting to involved, letting his feelings get in the way. But, in a way: why was that so bad?
"I don't have anyone either, obviously." Viktor grabbed the bottle and poured more into their glasses. "I've never really had anyone, it's hard with this job. I mean…"
"Well, why don't you quit?" Yuuri had to be quite drunk to say such a thing.
Viktor chuckled. "It's not like I chose to do this and if I wanted I could get a job if I just handed in a resume."
Yuuri realised what he had said at that moment. His parents had run the onsen, and while they had not been rich, they had managed to raise Yuuri well, without ever missing anything. When he had wished for a Persian cat, just like the one that Christophe had, he had gotten it. He had never been told no if he needed to sharpen his skates, if he needed a costume. His parents had always paid for him and he sheepishly realised that the man in front of him probably didn't have such luck. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to insult you!" Yuuri felt like an idiot.
"It's alright." Viktor said and grabbed Yuuri's hand. "I've been doing this for… over eleven years now."
"11 years? H-how old are you?"
"26." Yuuri looked terrified when he realised the age of which the man in front of him had started. He had been a kid, darn it. Viktor saw it, but continued to smile, his fingers intertwining with Yuuri's. "It just happened. I had already slept around and when a man paid, it felt okay. It was so much money at first, back when I still lived at home. They kicked me out once they found out though. And then it became a necessity, and when the Olympics came around I moved down here and just… yeah." Viktor emptied his glass. It was ages ago. "You weren't in the Olympics, were you?"
Yuuri sat silent. "No, no I didn't qualify."
Viktor felt that he had told the man too much. "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say all that. Let's go back to your hotel!" Viktor got up from his seat, acting that he had not been affected by the conversation. Viktor realised he was still holding Yuuri's hand, and he smiled to him, squeezing his hand. Their hands stayed close together after they left. Yuuri paid for them as Viktor fetched their coats. Or well, his own coat and Yuuri's large, soft jacket. And their hands joined each other again.
They were silent, but there was nothing that had to be said. They just held each other's hands, walking slowly towards the hotel. The streets were busy, but it was December after all. They walked close to each other and once or twice one of them said something, commenting on the other's appearance. "Your hair is really pretty tonight, Yuuri," Viktor said as the crossed a street. Yuuri squeezed his hand.
Viktor leaned towards Yuuri in the elevator, and Yuuri fumbled with his card. But the door clicked open, a few melodic beeps. The two men stepped inside and the door gently closed behind them. Almost before the clicking sound reached their ears Viktor threw himself on Yuuri, kissing him passionately, and Yuuri returned the kiss, as they fell into the bed. "Fuck me again, Yuuri, please, I need you. I want you to."
Yuuri kissed the man as Viktor struggled with unzipping Yuuri's jacket. They both wanted each other, they were both slightly drunk. "Did you fuck that man? Pritchard?" His question was sudden, but Viktor didn't avert his gaze.
"Bouchard." Viktor said. "Yes. Many times."
Yuuri looked into the ice blue eyes. They looked pained. "He seemed slimy. "
"He's a douchebag." Viktor said. "They're all like that, all old, all gross and thinks that because they have money, they can do what they want." Viktor pulled at Yuuri, hugging him tightly, feeling his athletic body through the thick, soft jacket. "And I let them, I let them do whatever they want if they wave enough money in front of me. I'm horrible, Yuuri, I'm so sorry."
"You're not horrible." Yuuri brushed his hands through Viktor's silvery hair. "You're perfect." Yuuri smiled down at the man. "I'll make you forget about him."
"Yuuri," Viktor breathed and the zipper finally slid down. Yuri moved away from him, but his lips still touched Viktor's. They both undressed in frenzy, their lips hunting each other's. Viktor was quicker than Yuuri who ended up standing there with the turtleneck and boxers on. Viktor pulled at it, wanting him to remove it, just as Viktor had pulled the white shirt over his head in the same movement as the hoodie.
"I'd like to keep it on." Viktor's hands stopped immediately, falling down to the Japanese's hips. Yuuri didn't think about it at first, but then it dawned upon him. Viktor knew what his clients wanted and he adapted his own expectations based on what they wanted. If his clients didn't want to take their shirts off, Viktor wouldn't press them even if it was something that he wanted.
Why couldn't he show himself naked to the man? Viktor had been completely nude in front of him yesterday. The skater closed his eyes and pulled the shirt off in one movement, tossing it towards the chair. Viktor smiled and let his hand trail over the man's abs. He was fit, and smooth, there was no hair or cold fat. Viktor loved it.
"I'll suck your cock," Viktor said and prepared to slip down on the floor, but Yuuri pressed him back. Viktor looked down at the arm pressing against his shoulder.
"You don't have too," Yuuri said, their eyes meeting.
Viktor said: "I want to suck your cock."
Yuuri swallowed, his cheeks turning warm. "I want to suck yours too."
Viktor crawled into the bed, and Yuuri followed. They kissed and stroked each other, their limbs tangling up in each other's. Viktor moved first, leaving a trail of kisses over Yuuri's chest and stomach before turning around. They giggled a bit as Viktor did so, and clasped their hands together for a moment, but soon let go.
Viktor went to work as eagerly as yesterday, and Yuuri soon followed, much happier to see that Viktor was hard this time. "Yuuri!" Viktor moaned, surprised by the care put into the blow job. He had to stop himself and just moved his hand over Yuuri's hard cock. He was used to someone at most sucking on it, slobbering saliva on it, sometimes maybe a tongue got involved. But Yuuri, Yuuri was doing it with care. He was sucking Viktor off, his lips engulfing his cock, doing his best. Yuuri wasn't pretending to be nice, he didn't put a half-hearted attempt at trying to imitate some porno. Viktor soon regained composure and returned to Yuuri's cock, giving the best blow job he had ever given. He didn't stop until he felt Yuri trying to pull away. "Stop, Viktor, I'm…"
"Sorry," Viktor sat up again and looked down on Yuuri. He straddled him and bent down, kissing the man underneath him.
"You don't have to apologize." Yuuri stroked his hair, placing it behind Viktor's ear. They kissed again and Viktor reach for his new coat, which still laid on the bed, and once more produced lube and a condom. Viktor prepared himself, even if Yuuri eagerly tried to help, as they kissed each other. The black-haired man jerked the blonde man's cock throughout, making Viktor moan into their kisses. "Yuuri," he whispered before handing him the condom, which Yuuri got on quicker this time around.
Viktor's hand gently grasped Yuuri's cock, and he moved himself until he felt how it prodded against his hole. He lowered his body down, and while it was a bit uncomfortable, Viktor didn't show that as his hips lowered themselves over Yuuri's cock, which buried itself deep inside of him. Viktor looked down on Yuuri, who still had a hand on Viktor's cock, the other draped over his own forehead. "Do you like it?" Viktor began to roll his hips, slowly, passionately.
"Yes, Viktor, I love it." Viktor continued to do what he knew, but it was different. It was different with Yuuri's naked body under him, his hand firmly jerking his cock in the rhythm that Viktor moved in. Which was painfully slow, but it only prolonged the sweetness of the moment. Viktor wanted to keep this moment for forever. Would they ever meet again? In three days, Yuuri would leave Sochi, and never come back unless there was another competition. And Viktor would go back to doing what he was doing now.
It would be as if they never had had been. And Viktor knew that this was the reason he always played sweeter than he was, why he never went back to people who had made his heart flutter. But Yuuri did more than so. Yuuri let him slowly roll his hips, Yuuri listened to Viktor's moans, not to fill his own ego, but because he wanted to know Viktor liked it.
They had no future together, not outside this room, and Viktor didn't want to let him go. Yuuri didn't seem to think about the same thing, because he soon became restless, and began to buck his hips, and with a swift movement managed to sit up (which was impressive) and gently pushed Viktor back so they ended up in the same position as yesterday. Viktor cupped Yuuri's face and kissed him, refusing to let go as Yuuri began to properly fuck him. He wrapped his legs around Yuuri again.
They moved quicker and quicker, losing themselves in each other, both of them wanting to bring the other one pleasure just as much as they wanted to feel it themselves. They moaned each other's names, phrases and things that they wouldn't remember once they finished. Yuuri came first, but Viktor followed quickly afterwards.
Viktor hugged Yuuri's head to his chest. "Stay right here, please," he whispered.
And that was just what Yuuri did. They moved away from each other for a moment, Yuuri disposed the condom and they got under the covers, but Yuuri buried his head in Viktor's chest, and they laid like that for a long time, before falling asleep.
They awoke the next morning by Yuuri's phone ringing. Yuuri shot up and answered it, his voice still soaked in sleep. "Yuuri!" his coach yelled. "Do you know what time it is?!"
"What?!" Yuuri yelled back and before he realised that he unless he had slept for 30 hours, he couldn't have missed the Grand Prix Final.
"It's noon, you have to come to the rink right now." Yuuri apologized profusely before hanging off. He dumped back into the bed, where Viktor laid, now awake. He looked even more beautiful on his stomach, his hair messy and looking up on Yuuri from the white sheets.
That was when the second shock hit Yuuri. It was noon. He had been with Viktor for… seventeen hours, and that meant he owed him… fuck. Fuck. "Viktor, I don't have 4 grand!"
Viktor looked at him, amused. "Behind on student loans?"
"No, I mean… I don't have 4 grand, I'll pay you back of course but I don't have 4000 dollars right now, I have to call my bank."
Viktor smiled as he understood what Yuuri was talking about. He pulled the covers over their heads. "I don't really see you as a client." Viktor kissed those soft lips. "You owe me nothing. Except dinner tonight."
Yuuri looked at him. "Deal."
They had had a light dinner and was walking around the streets of Sochi. They held hands. Viktor showed Yuuri a shop he adored, which sold the cutest covers for phones and other little things. "This would suit you!" Viktor said and held up a light blue case with black skates on them. He had bought it for Yuuri. It was the first time he had spent money on a client. But Yuuri wasn't a client any longer. Yuuri had put it on immediately, and they had giggled about it.
It was a cold, dark night, and the stars were shining over their heads. It was the perfect night for a romantic walk. None of them had been on many, Viktor had never been on one where he didn't need to feign interest, but could simply enjoy every moment and be completely honest.
They reached an ice rink, open to tourists and locals that wanted to skate. Viktor pulled at Yuuri. "Skate for me!" he laughed.
Yuuri looked at the ice. "Let's skate together," he suggested, looking up on the taller man.
Viktor looked at the ice, he couldn't skate worth a damn. He had never tried, but he remembered playing hockey on football courts someone had poured water over. "Sure, if you hold my hand."
"It'll be harder for you if I hold your hand." Viktor rolled his eyes and they made their way to the little kiosk, where Yuuri rented skates for them. Yuuri put his on quickly and Viktor struggled a bit with the laces. "I'll help you," Yuuri said amused and got down on his knees, tying the boots for him.
Yuuri was so secure on the ice. Viktor reached out for him. "I've changed my mind!" he laughed as soon as he stood with both feet on the ice. "I don't want to skate."
"Come on!" Yuuri said and grabbed the man's hand. "Bend your legs, lean forward…"
"Lean forward? I'll fall!"
Yuri laughed together with Viktor. "Don't walk, you're not walking, it's like sliding on socks?"
"You're insane, you devoted your life to a sport where you slide around on your socks?" Viktor teased him, but he understood what he meant and pushed his leg backwards. It made more sense than walking, that was for sure.
"See!" Yuuri smiled and let go of his hand, skating next to the older man. "You're doing great!"
"Yeah, I'm a natural," Viktor rolled his eyes and reached after Yuri's hand. But fact was that he got a hang of it rather quickly, and could skate around with Yuuri rather well. Rather being an important word. Yuri showed him how to stop, and then how to turn. "I'm scared!" Viktor said when Yuuri demonstrated how to do eights. "Well above me, Yuuri-sensei!" he joked but watched the man with awe. He was so graceful, and beautiful.
"Yuuri-sensei?" Yuuri looked back at him and pushed his glasses back up. "Come here, Nikiforov, and I'll teach you how to do an eight."
"It looks like you're going fast," Viktor complained as he skated towards him, half forgetting how he stopped, so Yuuri grabbed a hold of him.
"You have to go fast."
"Spare me, Yuuri-sensei." Yuuri looked up at the smug grin on Viktor's lips.
"No." Yuuri said and showed him one more time. Viktor tried to repeat it, and while he managed the first turn, he fell on the second. They laughed at it. "For not being a skater, you're not half bad."
"Don't lie to me!" Viktor laughed. "Come on, amaze me instead."
Viktor leaned against the rink as Yuri did a small, very cute routine. It was only a few spins and some foot work, but Viktor cheered for him. Yuuri skated towards him, and they kissed on the ice. "Should we go back to your place?" Viktor suggested.
Yuuri looked up on the man. "I don't think I should have…" he fell silent and a blush spread over the man's cheeks.
Viktor smiled. "We don't have to, we can just rest together. If you want to."
Yuuri wanted that and they returned their skates before hand-in-hand walking back to the hotel, they couldn't help kissing each other from time to time. "Will you come and watch me tomorrow?" Yuuri asked as they stepped into the lobby.
"I don't… have a ticket. I guess you need tickets?"
Yuuri smiled. "I'll get you a ticket, my family couldn't come after all." Viktor nodded enthusiastically, he would love watching Yuuri tomorrow. They went up to the room, which felt more and more like theirs instead of just being Yuuri's. "I'll grab a shower." Yuuri said and kissed Viktor's forehead.
Viktor kicked his shoes off and laid down in the bed, and he checked his messages. Some from new clients, but he didn't want to reply to them, nor read that they wanted to meet him that evening. And then there was a message from Bouchard.
I'm thinking 9 hours for Christophe? It'll be a nice gift for him, when he wins. Agreed?
Viktor had forgotten about that ice skater. It made him nervous, and he didn't want to soil Yuuri's reputation. Surely they had to know each other. They were in the same competition?
I'm sorry, dear, but I'm already booked for tomorrow.
What? But I thought we had an agreement?
I thought you all were joking. I doubt that the skater was serious either.
Come on, don't be difficult. 12 hours then?
Viktor looked down on the screen and then back towards the dark bathroom. He could hear the water from the bathroom. But being paid twice the usual amount. The winter months were his busiest months, when the tourist flocked around, to skate and ski. To watch competitions like this one.
But if he said, he had to leave Yuuri. He couldn't sleep with his competition and pretend that everything was all right. But he would never be able to date Yuuri. So should he miss an opportunity like this?
12 hours sounds more reasonable, Henri! Tell me the time and place.
After the competition, there's a dance. Wear a suit.
Perfect! Thank you Henri!
Viktor put down the phone. He didn't like either of them, neither Bouchard or Christophe, not like he liked Yuuri. He turned the phone on silence and watched some tv as he heard Yuuri showering. "Is it okay if I shower too?" he asked as the man stood in front of him in the white, fluffy towel wrapped around his hips.
Yuuri nodded and Viktor showered before crawling down next to Yuuri. He kept Yuuri closed to himself again that night.