Victor watched Yuuri from across the rink.
He notices every little mistake, every little imperfection in the physical movement, but he can't find it in himself to care when Yuuri is giving one of the best performances of his life. It's not really a performance, just a rehearsal for a greater competition, but it's breath taking.
He sees the poor tilt of his head, he sees him lead with his heel when he should lead with his toes, he sees the barely held together landing, and he finds himself not caring.
Every revolution is a splash of emotion, every leap a story, ever single exhalation of breath conveying feelings that Victor doesn't know how he can just bring out of himself so casually. It's perfect. It's everything he's ever wanted for him.
Yuuri finishes the routine off with a Yuna spin, it's simple but it fits, and when he comes out of it, he meets Victor's eyes, and smiles, wide and content and perfect. Victor whistles low and Yuuri skates over to him. Victor hugs him over the guard rail.
“Beautiful.” He whispers. “You finally got it.”
“Really?” Victor smiles, and he can see Yuuri's face change with understanding. He braces himself.
“The skating was mediocre, at best. You still can't land the lutz correctly, you're balance was all over the place, to say nothing of your crooked posture. You led your footwork in the wrong direction. And, what else-”
“Right.” Yuuri deflates.
“But it was fantastic anyway. The feel of it, your expression, the twist of your wrist, you finally understood what I wanted from you.” He says. Yuuri meets his eyes for a second. Only for a second before he turns away and heads towards the gate. “I'm proud of you.” He crosses the distance and helps Yuuri pull off his skates.
“Of course!” Victor laughs pushes Yuuri down on the bench before taking his left leg in his hands and unlacing the skate. “Your form could use some work-” Yuuri groans. He watches with rapt attention as Victor rubs his foot through the small socks he's wearing. He moans when Victor presses his knuckles into the arch and turns an adorable shade of red as his hands fly up to cover his mouth. “Tired?”
“Sore.” Yuuri mumbles through fingers.
“Sore? Over what, you barely did anything.” Yuuri's other foot knocks against his shin. He deserves it but he smiles and tries to ignore the bruise that was probably growing there. “Do you want a massage?”
“Are you offering?” Victor nods and pulls off his other skate. When he presses his thumbs into the pads of Yuuri's foot, Yuuri seems to bite down on his tongue.
“Yeah.” He says after a while. “If you want.” Victor smiles wide.
“I want.” He has to stop himself, to physically put thought into not crossing the divide between them and kissing him in view of everyone in the rink. He wants to. It takes more restraint then he thought it would. It seems like every contact with Yuuri cements more and more want from him.
Victor keeps him sitting on the bench as he goes to retrieve his boots from the locker. Victor kneels in front of him and watches as Yuuri turns read while he pulls his boots on for him. It's a suggestive position, some people stop to stare. It's intentional. Of course it's intentional. Every thing he does is intentional.
Yuuri deserves nothing less.
The walk home is slow, it seems excessively cold today. As they walk back to the apartment, they stop for tea, and Viktor watches how the steam from the cup fogs up Yuuri's glasses. He holds Yuuri's cup while he wipes them clean and drink from it instead of his own. Yuuri notices, and demands Victor's instead. He obliges.
It's not the same, but it's good enough.
They go to Victor's apartment, and Victor turns on a hot shower for Yuuri while he walks Makkachin. He takes his time, and when he gets back Yuuri is sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts and not much else. His muscles are slowly reaching definition. He looks good.
“I thought you got mugged or something?”
“Why would you think that? Are you saying I can't defend myself?”
“You took an hour!” Victor looks at the clock. So he did.
“Did you take a good shower?”
“I- Yeah.” Yuuri nods. “Are you going to-”
“We can start now.” Makkachin curls up by the little space heater in the corner. “I'll get the lotion.”
“Right.” He does and they move into the bathroom.
“Lie down.” Yuuri stands at the edge of the bed, he seems nervous about something, so Victor finally, finally, finally, allows himself the joy of pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, right at the hair line. He feels Yuuri shiver under him and he smiles into his skin before pushing him froward until he falls flat on his face.
“Very called for.” Victor straddles his hips, and pours the lotion onto Yuuri's skin. He yelps. It must be cold. “Very, very, called for.” He starts kneading it into his upper back. “You're so tense, Yuuri, so so tense. You need to relax more.”
“It's kind of hard to do that.”
“Oh, poor baby. That's what I'm here for you. To help you relax.” Yuuri snorts into the pillow his face is buried in. “What?” He runs his hands up and down Yuuri's spine and watches as Yuuri just melts under him. “You don't think I can?”
“You're the reason I'm stressed to begin with.”
“Me?!” He feigns a gasp and Yuuri laughs under him again. Everything. He would give everything to have this again. He leans forward and kisses the nape of his neck again. Another shiver. He must be sensitive there.
“You.” He whispers. Victor returns his attention on Yuuri's back, slowly pushing and pulling at the skin and muscles there. He's so pliant. When his back becomes warm to the touch, he turns around starts on Yuuri's legs. He has the legs of a dancer, almost every skater does, long and elegant and toned. His legs have more definition then any other part of him.
Yuuri moans happily and Victor digs knots out.
The room is dim, the sky is gray. It's a wonderful day for this sort of thing. If Yuuri was a girl, Victor might have lit candles, but the smell always irritated him, and Yuuri doesn't seem like a big fan anyway. Victor works with a smile on his face.
“I'm almost scared to ask.” Yuuri starts.
“I hate to disappoint, but nothing as exciting as the last time. My coach was very insistent that I stay nimble.”
He can't help himself when he starts remembering Yuuri on the floor. He gets hard. When he finishes Yuuri's legs, he shifts his weight until his dick is pressed against Yuuri's ass.
“Can I fuck you?”
“Mm. I don't know. You're usually more subtle.”
“I really want to fuck you?” He leans forward and kisses Yuuri's neck again gently.
“Do you?” Yuuri rolls onto his back. Victor doesn't think about the sheets. Yuuri is caught between his legs, but he still seems more in control.
“I really.” He rolls his hips forward and watches Yuuri's eyes glaze over. “Really.” Yuuri's just as hard as he is. “Really.” He leans forward again and kisses him, on the lips. “Want to fuck you.”
“Mm.” Yuuri rolls his hips back. “What if I want to fuck you instead?” Yuuri's hands are on Victor's hips. He'd be fine with it. As long as he can touch him, he doesn't care. Sure.
“As a reward.” Viktor says and pulls of his shirt, throwing it off the bed. “For you skating.”
“Of course. For the feel of it.” Yuuri pulls at his jeans and Victor pulls them off. “My expression.” Like that, huh? Fine. “The twist of my wrist.” He leaned up as Victor pulled his shorts off. “For making you proud?”
“For finally understanding what you wanted?” Victor nods. Yuuri finds the lotion and hands it to him. “Get ready.” He tells him. So selfish, he thinks. He takes his time getting ready, by the time Yuuri rolls the condom on, he only has two fingers in. He likes it slow, languid. He wonders about the condom though, they've gone without before, so why bother now?
“Why are you wearing that?”
“I don't want to finish quickly.” Victor presses in a third finger and laughs. Yuuri grabs his hips and moves him around. “I'm doing it for you.” He pouts.
“I know, I know.” Victor tells him. “Out of consideration.”
“So sweet.” He pushes in a forth finger and kisses him again. “Do you want your reward now?” He asks when he pulls away. Yuuri doesn't bother answering, just lowers Victor down on his dick slowly. It feels good, whole, being attached to him like this. He waits until Yuuri starts twitching under him, impatient. “Go ahead.” He says. He doesn't move.
Yuuri sighs. Victor can't tell if it's fondness or irritation, but he grabs Victor's hips again and starts moving them. Victor likes being manhandled, and Yuuri directs himself into his prostate after a few attempts. When he's sure he's found it he reaches under Victor and rubs his perineum.
“Advanced techniques, I see.”
“Cum first.” Yuuri says. Oh, maybe it is irritation. He shouldn't have made fun off him. Victor leans forward until he's kissing Yuuri again. Again and again and again. 100% pacification method, works just as well every time. Yuuri doesn't stop thrusting into him though. It feels so good, the constant jack hammering into him.
Instead of moving his hands out of the way, Yuuri cradles Victor's balls instead, and alright, so it may be a bit much. So, maybe his balls are extra sensitive, and maybe irritating Yuuri was a good idea. Maybe a very good idea. Maybe the best idea. He can't stop himself from spilling onto Yuuri's chest, thin streaks of cum that Yuuri runs his fingers over.
Thin streaks of cum that Yuuri runs his fingers over and shoves into Victor's mouth.
He deserves that.
He tastes bitter, the tartness that he's come to expect, but it's still unpleasant. But he's a dutiful lover, so he licks Yuuri's fingers clean and lifts up to pull the condom off so that Yuuri could cum into him. He likes the feeling of feeling Yuuri twitch to completion inside him.
“I'm sorry for laughing.”
“You're not.” Yuuri tells him. No, he's probably right. He's certainly going to do it again as soon as possible.
“I don't mind if you finish quick. I think it's cute.” Yuuri turns a pleasant shade of red.
“Get off and let me shower.” He grumbles.
“Mm. No. Don't think so.” Victor says and languidly drapes himself over Yuuri, placing his head into crook of Yuuri's neck.
“Don't you feel relaxed now?”
“I'm a great masseuse, right?”