emberossing | for wauuu

There's a tug on Yuuri's arm, pulling him in close as ever to bump hips. Victor's grin goes that playful heart shape as he laughs along with Yuuri's squealed protest. He'll stop them at a red light, cars puttering along in front of them on the street as they waited to cross. The Russian skater takes the moment to lean down and kiss Yuuri's forehead, lips buried in black hair a moment. It's an affectionate looking scene, unmistakably.

"You press my buttons without even meaning to, I think! A true natural, my Yuuri,"

"I want to learn how to do it on purpose," it's another point in time where he's spoken without thinking, flushes, but he's learned already how to not take it back, with Victor, something that he hasn't learned with other people in years and years.

Instead, he smiles a warm little smile just for him and they probably almost miss the light.

"The tailbone is a good start!" he'll laugh, unapologetic as ever. He can't seem to go three minutes without mentioning something that could get Yuuri hot and bothered. The best they can do to jump on each other now is kiss while the light turns green. Victor can't help himself, not with that smile on Yuuri's face. The kiss lingers and the cross walk ticks down time until they have missed it. Victor only pulls away because of a noise across the street, a few yelps and high pitched coos from women. He'll look up and the opposite corner from them was excited seeming group of a few young ladies, all too eagerly snapping photos with their phones. Plenty of skating fans would still be around town even after the Grand Prix. Ever the welcoming personality, Victor flashes a smile that makes them collectively swoon.

As they crossed with their own light, there's a gentle huff of a sigh, not actually bothered just a little wistful.

"Can't go anywhere without drawing attention," a light tsk after, spying down to Yuuri, "Don't mind being seen with me like that, I hope," because pictures. Pictures are definitely going online as they speak. It's what young fans do in this day and age. Victor knows, he's guilty of it himself.

Yuuri is bright red at the end of that, scrunching down into his coat, and pulling up the neckline, like maybe he could undo that but it sends him kind of burrowing into Victor rather than pulling away.

"I... no... no it's not that it's just uh... I mean, there's a lot of people who don't even know I'm here and..." he fumbles around for words, "I don't know how I feel about that being the way they find out. But I... I like..." he flushes deeper, scrunches down more in his coat, can't quite finish.

But of course there's a part of him that wants to get caught kissing Victor Nikiforov. There's a part of him that wants it all over the internet. He's here. Victor is, improbably, possibly temporarily, but still undeniably his. There's nothing at all about that that he wants to hide.

Victor laughs, cuddling in close as was possible, hand squeezing Yuuri's. They had their time of privacy before, but now it wouldn't be a world where only they knew. The attention would have descended on them eventually, but part of Victor wanted to keep Yuuri all to himself for as long as possible. Their relationship would get all mixed up the social now, with Yuuri's shyness he hoped that wouldn't distress him or drive him away.

"When your social media blows up, try to enjoy it!"

Yuuri just groans,

"Phichit would enjoy it. I'm anxious enough just being on social media at all. I wouldn't even have any if it weren't for him," sorry Victor, but there's no way this sparks anything but stark terror in him, the thought of everyone in the world trying to talk to him about it. He wants everyone to know, but then leave him the hell alone. He really doesn't want people contacting him. About anything.

Oh god... oh god, what if other people find out he's another figure skater. What if he does badly at Nationals and that reflects poorly on Victor now. What if Victor doesn't want people to know what a loser he's ended up with?

Victor can feel the change in the man at his side, though all it seems to keep doing is making Yuuri grip his hand more, not pull away. He's definitely having a little trouble breathing, but he's keeping moving. If they can just get to the rink, out of sight of everyone, just for a moment...

The light will turn for them to cross and the rink isn't too far away. Yuuri's shift in demeanor isn't lost on Victor, who doesn't falter to be huddled in close every moment of the walk. He does shift a bit as his phone begins buzzing wildly. He'll grumble and hand the umbrella to Yuuri, not wanting to let the man's hand go to rummage into his pocket. He pulls out the device and it's clearly blowing up, messages and alerts listed across the screen. Victor glances at it, clicks the volume down to nothing, and puts it back away.

"That was fast,"

"Oh god..." he all he manages, with a groan. He's glad, suddenly, that he doesn't have his phone. He's not sure he wants to know what happening with it. He guarantees that Phichit is texting him furiously, even though Phichit also knows his phone was stolen. He guarantees Celestino probably is too.

He's not as worried about some of those texts being from his family. The only thing that will be surprising to them is that he's bold enough to kiss anyone on a street corner. But, truth be told, it's not anyone he knows that's a problem anyway. They walk in silence for a while, because he's trying to be blase about this, but he's never had a scandal attached to him before, no reason for anyone to blow up his phone and he has to know.

"It doesn't bother you at all?" he finally says, "... to be seen with someone like me?"

"Bothered? Why would that bother me?" he's genuinely unsure as to why, not yet grasping the depth of Yuuri's poor self esteem after his showing at the Grand Prix. To him Yuuri is sexy, fun, definitely a skilled skater to make it into the Grand Prix at all. There's nothing he could be ashamed of, let alone would think to be.

"Considering our morning, I'm only surprised the first photo of us is so chaste!"

"Well, I mean, the entire world did just watch me self-destruct on international television and the next thing they see of me is getting kissed by you on a street corner," he feels like it's pretty reasonable. It seems reasonable. "You're a skating legend and you're... I mean..." he fumbles, but it's because he can't quite manage to actually apply the words to Victor that he applies all the time to himself.

You're sleeping with a loser.

You picked a failure, instead of any of the people who won, who have it in them to win.

You could have anyone.

He can't say any of that to Victor, though, so he falls silent. But there's just a hint of the idea, in that, that even if that's true, even if all of it is true, that it still presumes Victor picked him.

You could have anyone. And you have me.

He squeezes Victor's fingers again, lightly, flushing more.

Victor's caught on, but that doesn't mean he's taking it seriously. Or is he?

"You'll definitely have to win a gold, sometime!" this declaration is breezy as ever, "If you don't make it to Worlds this year, I'll have to help you get one if your own. Something to look forward to next season, perhaps." He squeezes Yuuri's hand back, stopping in front of the rink.

Yuuri flushes,

"You say that like I could beat you," he shouldn't have missed some of that wording, but he does, too caught up in his own issues, or possibly not believing that they could be true to the point where he doesn't even really hear them. And then here they are. The rink. He's actually doing this.

True to his own word about it, he's not sure if he wants to scream in excitement or throw up.

He does neither, though, just following Victor inside and praying no one is around, instead.

"Isn't that what you want?" Victor asks curiously as ever. He really hadn't pried yet, into Yuuri what kind of fan Yuuri really was. Not just a surface level admirer, not if he trained so long and hard to make it into the Grand Prix. Yuuri must want something; to prove himself, to exceed Victor's legacy... something is in there that Yuuri doesn't have the boldness to admit. There's a part of Victor that wants to stoke that flame, whatever it is, to see what Yuuri's made of. The man has drive, nobody made it to the top six without it. A little more time and he'd understand better...

Luckily, the rink is dead empty, just a few attendants milling about. The storm mostly kept people inside and the competition had passed, the other competitors already gone from town. Victor looks at the ice like he's on a mission, swinging the bag that had his skates from his shoulder.

"All to ourselves. Lace up," he's doing just that, sliding his coat and scarf off and his skates on. He's gracefully out on the ice in moments, his presence filling the space.

"I..." the flush settles deeper. He'd never admitted as much to anyone. Something like that would be arrogant, ridiculous. "What I want and what's possible are two different things. That's pretty typical." It's another glance into the man he is when he's not kidnapped to Russia and Victor's bed, maybe makes some of the other things he's been saying more focused. Maybe not.

Either way, his movements are slower, shakier, as he gets the skates on. Victor's skates. He's wearing Victor's skates. And then he's on the ice and he almost just falls immediately, not because he's particularly clumsy or nervous, actually, but just because his knees suddenly feel like jelly, everything feeling like it's rushing up to overwhelm him at once. He clings to the boards for just a second while everything kind of swirls around him, giddily.

Victor does a smooth curve around, effortless at first, though speeds up to get back to Yuuri. He notices the wobble and is back close with concern on his features. Yuuri could still be too sore for skating... It wasn't like the man knew his limits around sex and activity after. The glide of his skates is loud in the empty rink, a stop that's sharp and close to Yuuri.

"Are your legs alright? No need to push yourself, if you feel weak,"

"I'm fine," it's maybe a little bit too firm, almost snappish, but Victor has just used the worst possible word to use at this moment. But Yuuri's not meaning to be peevish about it, doesn't feel that way once the word's out of his mouth, so he just grips tighter, one-handed to the boards, and takes a deep breath, rallies, remembers they way Victor had been crying out for him not even a few hours ago, that he'd said he was falling in love with him, and manages,

"Lifelong dream. Ridiculous fanboy. Etc." in a way that's almost flippant, though his voice is maybe shaking a little, and then, a little stronger, because its actually easier now, "And I'm sure the marathon sex this morning isn't helping anything." There's almost a smirk at the end of that.

"Here, take my hands," he'll offer both out for Yuuri, glad to lean into the romance and affection without fear.

"You wanted to skate together, after all. Do my old skates fit fine?" the my Yuuri is implicit, said in his caring tone, not needing to be repeated so often as when it was still brand new.

There's a blink and he's reaching out his hands, wobbling a little still with nerves and then Victor's making the comment about the skates and he's laughing suddenly, and pushing off the distance like he's deliberately trying to throw Victor off a little. He maybe is a little, though hopefully not enough to send them sprawling, just sliding slowly away from the boards on the ice.

It's another moment like the naked sauna yoga, where everything has just built to the point where it's too ridiculous for his brain to take it, only this time, it's something too immense for him to grasp-- being here, the kiss, the picture, the skates, the costume waiting for when they get back, the ice, Victor. Everything's just completely surreal.

And then here he is, gliding along the ice and it's not just the same ice as Victor, it's in his arms.

"They're perfect," his voice is quiet. He doesn't really mean the skates.

A grin breaks across Victor's face as Yuuri begins to laugh, shattering the tension. He holds on tight, sturdy, it's not exactly easy to knock a skater like him over. His feet are careful and move with a subtle skill, so natural on the ice he may as well be walking. Yuuri's enthusiasm is spellbinding, completely enrapturing, Victor can help but bask in it.

"I'll want to make all your dreams come true, if I can see you smile like this more!"

Yuuri looks down a moment in embarrassment, flushing deeper, but then suddenly he's looking back up, tugging himself more firmly into Victor's arms and shifting his legs, pushing them into a gentle circle together on the ice, grin widening, arms shifting up to wind around Victor's neck. His face is an open book, tender and sweet for a moment,

"Wow," he breathes out, softly, and it's a little teasing maybe because it sounds like the way Victor says it, but it's also definitely not at all teasing in that he means it. And then, "I'm here," equally awed.

"Wow..." Victor will parrot, quieter, letting Yuuri have the phrase. Victor was used to getting looked at, but how Yuuri looked at him was breathtaking. There was respect, gratitude, sheer awe... Too many distinct emotions in one single look for him to fully consider. He might have thousands of fans, but he's never seen so much honest devotion looking back at him. Yuuri's in his own league, the flattery so intense Victor only wanted to impress more, motivated down to his core. What can he do to keep this?

Or... No, he should enjoy the moment while it lasts. It would be a waste to let it slip by.

"How am I ever going to take my eyes off you?"

Yuuri grins softly,

"You're not," it's said with a laugh. It's also perfectly serious. He leans up for a kiss, slow and sweet and lingering, but when he pulls back, he pushes off of Victor suddenly and glides across the ice, not really building up for anything in particular, not trying to impress him, just to feel it, gathering speed.

He launches into a clean jump, just a double, nothing deliberately impressive, just something because he can-- and it's also just to prove he can. He can skate with Victor watching him. He can skate in Victor's old skates. He can skate knowing that there's at least one picture on the internet now of him kissing Victor Nikiforov.

He maybe wobbles a little on that one, but he's not in danger of falling over, at least.

True to Yuuri's claim, Victor doesn't stray from watching the other man, not a second. He follows after Yuuri lands, smile etched onto his expression like someone carved it there to stay. A hand will catch Yuuri's, skating beside him as if leading along, typical Victor style in how whimsical he could be. Elegance came easily to him on the ice, a bit less so off, where he was far more goofy.

"Ever done a pair skate, Yuuri?"

"Never," is what he says, but he falls almost expertly in line with Victor's skating. It's a weird little moment like when they danced together, where he doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he follows Victor's movements perfectly. If Victor's ever tried to skate with someone else before, he knows it's not easy, but Yuuri makes it look that way, falls into the rhythm and speed Victor sets very naturally.

Like he's been doing it a while.

"Yuuko and I used to kind of play around with skating together, but never really what I would call pairs skating."

"I learned some, when I was younger," he wasn't cooperative enough to stick with it, far too selfish and driven by his own ambition to share. For not having done so in so long, it felt right with Yuuri. The idea that that makes sense, if Yuuri was so serious a fan he would definitely derive style and technique from watching Victor. Another reason they line up so we'll... Or perhaps the other ways they connected were side effects of this.

"I didn't think about it at all, not for years. It came to mind just before this season," he's backing off behind Yuuri, only to slide up behind him, careful to not cross skates. He slides a gloved hand along the back of Yuuri's hand, gently lacing fingers that way, his other hand a guiding position on Yuuri's waist. "This is exactly what I had in mind, when I choreographed my free skate,"

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