emberossing (
emberossing) wrote2017-03-05 04:53 pm
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for wauuu
Yuuri cracks open his eyes, blearily, to an unfamiliar ceiling. His head feels like it's either on fire or full of bees or possibly both and his stomach does a slow, sickening roll as he opens his eyes, but it settles, at least for the time being. Not just his head but everything hurts enough that, at least at first, he more just moves on auto-pilot, looking around for his glasses and taking what is obviously a pair of Paracetamol on the bedside table. There's a little note with them but he doesn't parse either the message or recognize the handwriting, so he just drinks about half the glass of water and looks around.
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
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"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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He doesn't say another word, he just pushes off into the opening, keeping Victor's hand in his, which draws it across his face, curls Victor's arms around him, his whole body settling back into Victor's as they slide through that first, controlled spin. He stops just before Victor would have taken a knee and his tone is hushed, but delighted,
"I see it. I always thought it felt a little lonely but like this it's..." pretty sexual to be something you do in front of judges is almost the clear end to that, though of course, if this were pairs skating, they'd have to separate after the opening. He's not immediately so good at pairs skating just from watching Victor, and it's not like he's skated this routine over and over or anything-- he's been too focused on his own. But he would still run through bits of it for warm ups or at night when he needed to think, sometimes. So he can immediately see the way part of it leaves room for a dip here, a lift there.
"It would be so beautiful."
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"It was first composed as a duet, it's less... melancholy, that way," and it didn't speak to him a much, not back then. He had a longing, but is was abstract, tied up in what was he going to do with his career. He's not thinking much about his legacy right now, not with Yuuri stealing all his attention.
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This isn't something you could fake. This isn't something you do because you want someone in your bed. No one could look like that just for a conquest. And he's had that thought before, that he believes Victor, even though he wouldn't believe anyone else, this fast, this sudden, like this. But this is different. He can feel him reaching. He doesn't know why he's reaching for him. Maybe he's just convenient. Maybe he really can fall in love that quickly. Maybe this is all a dream and he hit his head at the GPF and is in a coma.
But whatever it is, Victor is reaching and Yuuri is determined suddenly, that his own hangups or disbelief isn't going to keep him from reaching back. He leans down, kisses him slowly for a moment, then braces himself and pulls Victor up off his knees, into him, skating a simple step backwards and tugging him along, grin spreading over his face, his tone tender,
"Teach it to me? The routine you wanted it to be. Show me."
Yuuri's not as expressive with his words as Victor is. Not yet, maybe not ever. But the tone sure sounds a lot like I love you. I'll stay. Show me.
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"It's funny," he has to quiet his own chuckling, "I didn't think I'd find my missing piece drunk at a banquet!" His tone says he wouldn't have it any other way, because this is Victor, he would never trade surprise for a more conventional meeting.
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He drifts them into more complicated patterns, idly, not really following anything in particular other than a whim, just wanting to both keep close and keep the ice moving under their feet. He swings out and back in, a move more suited for the ballroom than the ice and it's a bit clumsy like this, trying. He laughs at that too, though, rather than being embarrassed.
"Then I guess neither one of us can believe what's happening," it's hushed, sweet, "Victor..." there's no end to that, it's just his name, and Yuuri winding his arms back around him, the desire between wanting to be wrapped up in him warring with the desire to skate. Everything feels delicate and quiet, like right after a snowfall, like ice, and he sinks into the moment as much as he does Victor's arms.
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All he wants is to be with Yuuri, share the ice and laugh and smile and touch when they drew close and wait to touch again when they slid away from each other. He pulls the duet version of "Stay Close to Me" on his phone, shows Yuuri how he would imagine a pairs skate. Yuuri can interject anything he wishes, Victor will press him eagerly for feedback. It's entirely for the fun of it, no pressure and no end goal, not really. The choreography was for them to share, nothing more, not right now.
Time flows away from them before Victor can even realize it's been practically a day together on the ice. Sweat is rolling off Victor like he might as well have gone out in the rain again, chest bouncing with heavy breathes of satisfied exhaustion.
"I thought, haah, you wore me out before!" He was clearly wrong and yet he's certainly pleased to be wrong. This was the best kind of tired to be, no doubt.
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"One more time?" his voice is hushed, has been most of the day, like this is something sacred, and maybe it is. Even though it's been extended out, has had moments of levity and moments of seriousness, the entire thing has felt more intimate for Yuuri than anything else they've done. This is art, created with another person. This is the soul of who he is, shared with the person who, inadvertently, helped him find it to begin with. "All the way through, and we can just make up the ending. I just want to have... the whole thing." He's not sure if that makes sense, but they've mostly been skating little bits of it at a time, over and over, and that's been great for learning, but he wants to see it all, to build that tension and hold it.
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"Okay, one more time, only one!" He gives one more tired huff, through his smile. "Do you want me to record it? It might be nice to have."
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"Yes. Yes I want that," and then, sweetly sly, still as reverent as he has been but with that same way he constantly has of teasing by bringing up things from the past in a different context, he breathes out, "Hai," in exactly the same tone as when Victor had been taking him apart with his mouth earlier.
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He waits for Yuuri to get in to starting position and starts the music, his place a little further in, skating in to meet Yuuri. He liked it more that way, the finding of Yuuri, his missing piece. They dance together from there on, only brief separations, never far or for long.
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Yuuri likes that, maybe more than he should.
Everything for the next few minutes is Victor. He forgets that they're recording, he forgets that they've had marathon sex and then skated all day, everything is just the ice under their feet and each other. It's not as fancy as it could be-- they're good, but no one is "skate an entire routine after one day" good, but it doesn't matter. They don't fall down and they're moving in sync with one another, even through the parts they've never really practiced.
At the end, the last motion is improvised, but it pulls them tight and Yuuri leans up and pulls down and he can't kiss Victor for long because he's out of breath, but he also can't not kiss him at the end of that.
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There's no words. He can't think of them. He won't waste his breathe. He only wants to kiss Yuuri more. Wet and messy, as loving as during their fits of passion against his mattress.
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"Yuuri. Yuuri. Y-Yuuri...." He'll keep kissing between calls to slow down, eventually tearing his lips away just enough to speak.
"Keep kissing me like that and we'll melt the ice,"
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"I don't care. I don't care..." it's wrecked, lost, everything so sweet and hot and close that he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. They're in private, but there's technically the possibility of people at any point, and Yuuri really doesn't sound like he cares at all, like he'd let Victor fuck him right here in the center of the ice if he would just do it already.
He does manage a few deep breaths, though, because the words do get through, the tone, tries to pull himself back. He only manages to turn the kisses soft and longing instead, mouth doing everything he wants to be doing to the rest of Victor right now.
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"We'll run back to the condo, back to the dark, and then..." One more kiss, shortly, his teeth lingering on Yuuri's lower lip, curious if he'll listen or disobey or what, anything, Victor's attention is singularly focused.
"Then we'll make up the rest as we go," just like the routine, but in private.
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Despite the shudder, though, he can't make himself untangle right away, so Victor pulling him back up to kiss again is a welcome thing and while he does seem to be listening-- or at least, he doesn't seem to be pulling Victor down any more, letting him pull him up into those kisses instead-- the kisses are every bit as tempting towards doing something risky. Victor's been successful at shifting the mood, but whether the new one is actually any less dangerous remains to be seen, because Yuuri's kisses shift from somewhat frantic with everything that's been bubbling to the surface while they skate, tender, aching, to something slow and deep and tempting. He's absolutely teasing Victor with the idea of it, letting him see every single inch of how easy it would be, to have him right here.
Victor sets his teeth into Yuuri's lower lip and Yuuri moans for it, almost delirious sounding still, but his fingers have been sliding down Victor's spine, and there's too much in the way for it to be more than a ghost of a touch, but he rubs them against Victor's tailbone while he speaks, a little circling motion to the press specifically aiming for making his knees wobble just a little, if he can manage it,
"If you're going to chase me, you'd better already know what you're going to do when you catch me," it's a bit teasing, but he mostly sounds serious, seductive. And then he's leaning up for a lighter kiss and then skating away, all hips as he swishes to the door off the ice like an invitation.
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No use in giving Yuuri much of a head start, Victor is trailing close behind. There's the sound of the ice scrapping beneath them, the skates on the ground once they leave, clothing shifting on as they tie laces to shoes and throw on coats. Victor doesn't say anything, there's no need, the electricity between them said it all. No words, just a slight labor of breathing.
Victor grabs Yuuri's hand, tight in his, not bothering with the umbrella. Run home. Even if they're both tired, the desire was enough for a third or fourth wind. He doesn't even think about being tired. He's close with Yuuri, not pulling him, but directing him back. The condo seems to have gotten it's lights back on, since they left, but Victor doesn't look to anybody along the way.
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He's the one hitting the up button two or three times in a row, impatiently, before he can make himself stop. He puts a careful several feet between him and Victor in the elevator, because if they so much as brush hands somewhere semi-private, they're still going to be arrested for public indecency.
They cannot get off the elevator and to Victor's door fast enough.
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"What was that earlier, about being able to have you on every surface of my condo?"
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"The next one better be the floor of your entryway."
He does at least have the decency to flush when he realizes what he just said, but it's... somewhat belated. Everything inside of him feels like it's at a fever pitch. It's not just desire, it's everything he was feeling on the ice, but it's crawling under his skin, turning everything hotter, more reckless.
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He realizes he has to fumble for his keys and that's about the most frustrating thing at this exact moment.
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He is not helping getting them inside, the way he's gotten his hands up under Victor's shirt from behind, but they're so close and after that there's no way he can help himself anymore. Victor's lucky he doesn't have his hand down his pants.
No wait, that's a great idea. That's the best idea, what with the hall being deserted and them almost inside. It's the easiest thing in the world for him to slide his hand down and stroke Victor's cock, though he will stop if Victor really can't get the door open like this.
"You have no idea. You could have your total s-slut of a boyfriend 20 minutes ago, but you had to be responsible about it," he teases back, stumbling a little on the one word, but forging through anyway, voice quiet but hot against him, and it had been obvious how reckless he was feeling back at the rink, but the confirmation of it is likely surprising.
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