emberossing | for wauuu

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?"

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Yuuri's grinning widely, clearly enjoying himself for all that he's pushing at Victor and he flushes at the compliment,

"I don't know how the judges would feel about that..." he teases back, which is somewhat surprising in that it's not a negative comment about himself or his laugh. Maybe he's learning! Or maybe it's just that everything in this moment is so warm and sweet that his self-consciousness has nowhere to go.

Maybe that's why he reaches out and strokes his fingers through Victor's hair, the expression on his face shading tender. It's been good, honestly, that he hasn't had time to process a lot of this. He really is overdue for a complete breakdown over some of the things he's done and said. But it also means that he hasn't had a whole lot of time to let the enjoyment sink under his skin, either. Victor is his boyfriend. Victor wants to be romantic with him. Victor is beautiful.

He lets himself just sink into that for a moment.

There's a playful wiggling as his hair is teased through, ticklish behind his ears when Yuuri brushes there. Equally lacking self consciousness, Victor isn't even bothered when Yuuri's fingers card through the thinnest part of his hair. He's not even thinking about that, about his age or his cares or his worries, Yuuri takes up his whole world much the same way he consumes Yuuri's. The difference is that Yuuri's had half a life of Victor's presence, albeit indirect, while Victor has had all of two days with this feeling. It's such a new high, he's likely to crash in the wake of it.

Right now, though, he's found his bliss.

That bliss is teasing Yuuri through a giggle.

"You must have a thing for my hair!"

"I have a thing for you," comes out of his mouth before he can stop it and then all he can do is laugh at himself and tug Victor up for another kiss, longer.

It turns longer than he intended, if Victor doesn't pull away. Victor's weight is warm and solid and Yuuri's still sort of vaguely presuming they're probably going to have sex again, but he's also feels so lazy about it, safe and cozy, and everything goes a little drifting, his lips dragging on Victor's hands sliding warm down his back.

Wiggling back up to meet Yuuri's lips, the whole moment goes a bit too cozy. One moment Victor is humming into Yuuri mouth and the next he's slack, sighing, and fallen right asleep. All nuzzled up, his weight down on Yuuri, he'll probably need to be scooted to one side to not be too suffocating. It's not difficult, his body seems to cooperate in whatever shifting around Yuuri might insist on, but Victor's not likely to wake up. The day was just a bit too much for him, in the end.

Yuuri giggles, half asleep himself, when he realizes Victor has fallen asleep on him. He's maybe a little disappointed-- he's still half hard-- but there's an odd pleasure in the disappointment, the laughing thought that he's gone from a complete virgin to being disappointed his boyfriend couldn't have a sixth round of sex with him.

The only "punishment" for that is that he tips Victor to the opposite side of Makkachin, takes the middle of the bed between the two overly excitable creatures, selfishly. It takes almost no time at all, however, before he's asleep as well.

This time, there's no obnoxiously loud alarm ready to shock them out of the sleep. Victor's phone was abandoned along with his coat in the entryway, he hadn't bothered with it since. He didn't want to, either, didn't want to look at all the missed calls from Yakov, messages telling him he was off schedule, needed to get back to St. Petersburg, that he was wasting his time on a flight of fancy, that Victor Nikiforov had another half season to so he could win his fifth consecutive world medal. He doesn't want to hear any of it, not right now, while he has Yuuri at the center of his orbit. Then there would be the rumors, caused by the photo, but Victor would only mind those so much as they were a bother to Yuuri.

So, he sleeps steady through the night, arms slung limp over Yuuri, occasionally adjusting, pulling him closer. It's pure peace, nothing notifying him otherwise, just the patter of rain on the windows as the storm wanes away to a bright morning. He's awake before Yuuri, but doesn't want to move. He just brushes his fingers through his boyfriend's bangs, admiring him through sleepy, lidded gaze.

Yuuri sleeps like he could medal in it, deep and hard and nearly dreamless. The trade-off for his stamina might be something like perpetual sleep-debt. Victor has a long while to watch him, but his touch seems to wake Yuuri very, very slowly. He makes little noises as he wakes, murmurs and low sounds of contentment, shifting closer, chasing warmth and skin and things that he wants so much more easily without the rest of his brain interfering with him.

There's something a little sexual about it-- he's half hard and part of the push closer is definitely with his hips-- but it's more like something that hovers, able to be reached for but not something inherent or inevitable. He just clearly enjoys having someone to snuggle into, taking to bedsharing far more naturally than most people. It's maybe a little heartbreaking to see how much he clearly enjoys it, to know that this is likely the first morning he's ever had it. (Well, there was yesterday, but they woke up much more quickly, then.)

"Good morning, Yuuri..." he says it soft, barely a whisper to be heard, not wanting to disturb the moment if the other man wanted to doze right back off. It occurs to Victor how wonderful this feeling is, he might have people in his bed regularly, but they didn't often stay. He really wouldn't have minded them staying, his past hook ups, but it wasn't what they were looking for from him. It's so much nicer to feel secure, assured the person he's cuddled up against really wanted to be here. Wanted to be here longer than was perhaps allowable, with the demands of the world approaching. They can't stay like this forever, but Victor wants to soak up ever aspect while they had it.

Yuuri says something that's a slur of unfamiliar vowels, but is probably ohayo on some planet where people only talk out of half of their mouths. He pushes closer into warmth more readily than his conscious mind registers waking.

Yuuri sleeps without moving a whole lot, maybe only one or two flip overs in the night and while he is amiable to being snuggled, he doesn't really seem to seek out snuggling a whole lot in his sleep or while going to sleep. Waking up, however, he is clearly something like an octopus, seeking to get himself as tangled up with Victor as possible.

Edited 2017-08-30 12:09 (UTC)

The extra greedy cuddling is just delightful to Victor. He's adjusting himself as much as Yuuri might need or want. The younger, sleepier man gets some doting kisses to his forehead and hair, Victor letting him bury down into his chest for a warm embrace. This is serene, Victor could wake up tens of thousands of times more just like this and it would be brilliant each time.

"Don't want to wake, my Yuuri?" he coos quietly, petting his boyfriend's back soothing. If he was going to fall right back asleep, so be it, Victor could lay still and enjoy this longer without a fuss.

"...keep having the best dreams..." the way it's murmured and the way he snuggles in deeper, it's completely impossible to tell if he's awake enough to tease about how he still can't believe any of this is happening, or if he thinks he's going to wake up from this back in Detroit. Either way, even though he doesn't open his eyes, he raises his head for a lazy, early morning kiss, messy because he doesn't have coordination for it, but thoughtlessly intimate.

Victor allows the kiss, accepting the sloppiness of it with a smirk. He's more careful, slow, wanting Yuuri to wake up at his own pace. The words are all too cute, they certainly agreed on how surreal this all felt.

"Much better than a dream,"

Yuuri murmurs something to that, but it's lost against Victor's mouth, then the skin of his neck and then Yuuri's stretching in his arms, which involuntarily rubs his legs all kinds of interesting places, the way they're curled together. He opens his eyes at the end and Victor can watch his go wide as he processes where he is and who he's with. It's a lot like yesterday morning, really, but this time he looks more excited about it than disbelieving,

"Oh wow," is that teasing? Probably not, but it easily could be taken that way, "Good morning."

There's a withheld gleefulness to watching the surprised and then wonder wash over Yuuri's face in short order. Victor couldn't wipe the smile from his face even if he tried, only biting his bottom lip to try and contain himself and keep the calm feeling of morning in tact. Nuzzling close to Yuuri's face with his nose, the feeling of their skin from top to bottom is everything Victor craves.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Mm. Really well," Yuuri's all tender and vulnerable in the morning, without any of the usual tension, "But I think you're right. Waking up was better," his mouth is warm and he's still lazy about the kisses he's still mouthing on Victor's neck, unfocused about it. But... even so, he's also not really trying to not leave marks, either. He's not building to anything, but he's also not being careful this morning, either.

"I'm glad," he chuckles a bit, Yuuri's lips tickling him just slightly as they trailed over his skin, "can't remember who fell asleep first, so it must have been me,"

"Mmhm. Right in the middle of me trying to get you to have sex with me," he confirms, but the tone is obviously more sly and teasing than offended, even if he wasn't so warm and curled up with him at the moment.

"Is that what happened? How shameful of me," he'll tease right back, adjusting his weight before abruptly rolling Yuuri onto his back. On top of his younger boyfriend once more, he'll take advantage of being all tangled up together to grind down against him, expecting Yuuri to have woken up as hard as he was. Even if not, he assume it won't be long, given how they've been so far. A less than sneaky kind of kiss to Yuuri's lips before he'll go on.

"We'll have to pick up where we left off,"

Yuuri goes with the roll easily and he's already rocking his hips up into Victor's grind down. Whether he woke up that way or not, he's definitely hard now, and he definitely didn't wake up shy. Maybe Victor finally fucked some of his nerves out of him-- or perhaps it's the sweeter thought that he feels safe enough to open up more.

Or maybe those parts of his brain are still asleep.

Whatever the reason, there's no hesitation in him, arms winding around Victor's neck,

"Absolutely shameful. Unable to go a sixth time in a single day after spending half of it on the ice. You should make it up to me," he teases. If Victor even looks for a moment like he's taking the things he's saying seriously, Yuuri would be all apologies.

"Would it have been the sixth time?" he'll ask with that teasing edge, just slightly disbelieving, he's nibbling on Yuuri's lower lip, "You've shattered my record, I think it was three,"

"Mm," Yuuri confirms, is bold enough to flick his tongue against Victor's mouth for a moment, when he releases his lip, "We were at three before we managed to eat breakfast. Well..." he flushes, "I was, anyway." But it wasn't like Victor hadn't worked for the other one. He grins, winding his arms around Victor's neck a little more.

"Are we breaking this record today?" He'll kiss back, more sloppy, more tongue mingling with Yuuri's as their hips grind. Yuuri's erection in his own yoga pants slides against Victor's, slow and savoring. There's no rush and it's wonderful...

"Records are made to be broken, aren't they?" he says, teasing, sly, "But then, I'm also not in a hurry... You feel so good. This feels so good..."

"I'm ready for you to break all kind of records, with me," Victor agrees with all the words being said, the praise of how good it felt to be close, grinding against one another first thing in the morning. There couldn't be anything better than doing this first thing.

"No need to rush," he'll say, despite reaching down to peel Yuuri's pants away, revealing his hard cock before doing the same to his own. No need to hold them together given the position, weight gave them all the friction they could need, "but I am impatient..."

Yuuri lifts his hips eagerly to the tug of pants and moans at the press of skin, any hint of shyness nowhere to be found this morning. The only thing that maybe shows more of his normal ramping up that he usually seems to take before he can be more enthusiastic is that he's less touch-based with his hands, winds them loosely around Victor's shoulders instead of caressing him. But everything else is completely relaxed, easy, to the point that he even hooks one leg around the outside of Victor's, pinning him in a little so he can arch a bit more, roll up into the friction between them.

"Me too," he admits, as if there's any doubt of that at the moment, the way he's moving his body against Victor's. "I want you."

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