“Victor, aah, Victor!”
Yuuri adjusts the other man’s leg on his shoulder and continues thrusting. Victor clutches the pillow behind his head, moaning with lips pressed together. They can’t be too loud because they are in Hasetsu right now. It’s late April and they are enjoying the rare window of freedom that follows immediately after the World Championship, before the rigours of training for the next season start again.
In a couple of days, they’re departing to Thailand to visit Phichit for a week, and then continuing on to St. Petersburg. It may be another five or so months before the next Grand Prix series starts, but there are new routines to choreograph and costumes to design, not to mention the ice shows they’re participating in.
But right now, they are on holiday, spending time with Yuuri’s long neglected family. And today, Victor finally managed to convince Yuuri to properly sleep with him.
He understands that Yuuri’s gets squeamish in engaging in intimate acts when the rest of his family is right next door, he really does. But he also thinks Yuuri is being a bit too dramatic about it (and that’s something, coming from Victor, who is very well aware that he can be a drama queen himself sometimes).
It could never stop Victor – not even when he was living with Yakov – from sneaking a boyfriend or two into his room. And he is sure that Yuuri’s family knows about the exact nature of their relationship, given how often Mari has come upon them kissing (and Minako once; Yuuri was mortified and had banned Victor from using the ballet studio at the same time as Yuuri, even though Minako assured them that she didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up after). Mari only rolls her eyes and remarks that she had never thought a time would come when she’d have enough of seeing Yuuri’s boyfriend massaging her brother’s ass-cheeks; but she says it with such an amused voice that Victor knows she’s joking. She just likes to see her otouto writhing with embarrassment.
It is a revenge for all those years Yuuri had neglected them when he was in Detroit, Mari tells Victor one evening, lighting a cigarette and winking at him.
He really likes Mari.
Victor sometimes wonders how can a person be so contrary on and off the ice as Yuuri is. When on blades, or when he is inebriated, Yuuri has no problem unleashing his inner Eros, claiming Victor as his own.
But sober, off ice Yuuri is a private man, preferring to keep his private life in his private room for his own, private consumption, thank you very much.
Therefore, Victor quickly agrees when Yuuri finally relents under the condition that they move into his old room onto his small, cramped bed, because it is not directly above Mari’s bedroom like the banquet room. If it contributes to Yuuri’s peace of mind, Victor will gladly risk hitting his elbow on a wall, or stubbing his toe on the side ledge of the too narrow bed.
They sneak in after the rest of the family had retired for the night, leaving Makkachin snoozing happily in Victor’s room.
So here they are, lost in the throes of pleasure, when the bed groans ominously under them; Yuuri tries to change his movements so that he doesn’t rock the whole bed so much. But it also means he falls out of rhythm and changes the angle, and Victor wriggles under underneath, showing his dissatisfaction. “Yuuri, what are you doing?” he whispers, clamping his other leg firmly around his partner’s middle. It wouldn’t be the first time that Yuuri managed to somehow dislodge himself from Victor in the middle of the act. It was still a new territory for Yuuri.
“Sorry, sorry,” the younger man breaths, picking up the pace again. “I just… ah… don’t want the bed to… ah… them hear the creaking… hah….”
“Yuuri, I’m almost...keep going, right there...”
But, fate has a different thing in store for them than mind-shattering climax. The bed gives out a last, desperate groan and then the world tilts with an ear-splitting CRASH!
Mari bursts out of her room, blinking sleepily. Her parents are already outside a loose yukata thrown haphazardly over her mom’s shoulders over her nightclothes, a baseball bat in her father’s hand. Makkachin is barking somewhere upstairs.
“What was that?” Mari asks.
“I don’t know,” says Toshiya, nodding his head towards the wooden stair that leads to the third floor. “I think it came from upstairs, perhaps from Yuuri’s old room?”
“Burglars?” pipes up Hiroko, her eyes huge behind her glasses.
They creep up the stairs and tiptoe through the dark corridor huddled together. When they pass the closed banquet room with Makkachin barking inside, Mari briefly wonders where Victor and Yuuri are, how they can possibly sleep through such a loud smashing sound, but there is no time to investigate now. More pressing matters lie at hand.
Toshiya reaches out for the handle of Yuuri’s room and throws it open. They all blink for a second at the scene that unfolds in front of them.
Yuuri stands frozen in front of the bed that had collapsed into a slanted heap of ruins, amidst a jumble of their discarded clothes, balancing on one foot, the other leg raised and halfway through what are obviously his boxer briefs. At least he had already managed to put on a shirt that is long enough to preserve his modesty. His glasses are dangerously slung over his nose and one of his ears, and he is giving his parents and sister a perfect impersonation of a deer in headlights.
Victor, on the other hand, is still sitting on the tilted bed with his legs crossed, completely naked, and laughing into a pillow pressed into his face. When the door opens, he has just enough presence of mind to press the pillow into his lap, hiding his vital parts from Yuuri’s family. “Oops.”
Mari clicks her tongue and yawns. “I could have known it was just you. You know what, just sort it out in the morning, I’m going back to bed.” She shakes her head, giving her brother a pitying look (well, otouto, see what you managed to get yourself into again) and a thumbs up to Victor and disappears.
Toshiya tries to salvage the awkward moment by throwing in a casual: “Well, it was an old bed anyway, it was almost given it would break if put under any strain.” But that only manages to pull a dying whale noise out of Yuuri, who sways dangerously and drops his briefs in favour of standing with both of his legs on the floor. The last thing he wants now is to get himself into another embarrassing situation, like falling over ending with his naked butt up in the air for all to see.
Hiroko, however, is not deterred by her offspring’s obvious distress. Her maternal instincts taking over, she steps towards Yuuri, puts both of her hands on the sides of face and asks with a worried look: “Yuuri dear, are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
Yuuri only opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, pulling down the hem of his shirt as much as he can at the front, and stands there looking like the only thing he wishes right now is to disintegrate on the spot.
“No, we’re all right, okaa-san,” Victor says, supplying for his tongue-tied boyfriend. “The only thing that’s hurt is our dignity.”
He stands up, wrapping the bed-cover around his hips, while he tries to discreetly push a torn condom package and a bottle of lube under a pile of clothes with his foot without anyone noticing. He wonders briefly where the condom is; hopefully poor Yuuri isn’t still wearing it.
He beams at Toshiya: “I’m afraid the bed is completely ruined. Sorry for that.” He moves towards Yuuri, rights his glasses and tucks him into his embrace. The latter gratefully buries his red face in Victor’s neck, hiding it from his parents.
The older man just waves his hand at him. “No, no, it is quite all right. The most important thing is nobody was hurt. I think Mari was right, let’s deal with this in the morning.” He nudges his wife. “Come, Hiroko dear, let them sort themselves out.”
He turns once more before they leave: “Vicchan, can you please take care of Makkachin? I’m afraid the poor thing is just as worried as we were.”
Toshiya is right; the agitated poodle is still in the other room, barking and giving distressed whines at times.
“Yes. Again, we’re sorry for creating a commotion in the middle of the night. Good night, otou-san, good night, okaa-san,” Victor says.
He manages to coax Yuuri into the banquet room and calm down Makkachin. He sighs when they curl up in the queen sized bed. The mood is definitely gone now, presumably for the entire rest of their stay in Hasetsu. He wonders what the sleeping arrangements are at Phitchit’s before sleep takes him over. It was an exhausting night, after all.
When Victor enters the family kitchen in the morning, he finds Toshiya sitting sitting at the table, reading the newspapers and sipping green tea. Yuuri had already left for a morning run, sneaking out of the inn before dawn to avoid meeting anyone, taking Makkachin with him. Victor presumes he won’t come home until the evening, too embarrassed to look his family in the face. Oh well, he’ll make sure to bring him a change of clothes and breakfast and retrieve his dog, then. There are only a couple of places in Hasetsu where he would hide, and Victor knows them all.
He’s pulled out of his musings when Toshiya clears his throat. Victor sits down at the opposite end of the table and gives the older man a level look. He is prepared for a shovel talk, but what he gets is a conspirational smirk from Toshiya. “The arrangements are not ideal, eh?” he says and winks.
Victor tentatively smiles back, not sure how he’s supposed to answer.
“I was once young too, you know,” Yuuri’s dad continues, undisturbed. “We lived at my parents’ until Hiroko inherited the onsen, so I know what trouble it can be for a young couple to find some...ah...private time.”
Oh, so this is going where I thought it was, Victor thinks and nods dumbly.
“Well, this is a common problem in Japan, but there is a solution, you know,” Toshiya leans over the table towards Victor, lowering his voice. “There are establishments where you can rent a room on an hourly basis. Rabu-hoteru, erm, love hotels is it in English.”
Victor’s eyes go wide, understanding dawning in his eyes. He nods enthusiastically.
“I’ve asked Nishigori-kun, and he told me there are two in Hasetsu nowadays, and one of them has automated check-in, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you to use it. I’ll send the address to your phone later.” Toshiya leans back and sips from his mug with a satisfied slurp.
Victor feels a bit surreal. He has just received a piece of advice on his sex life from his almost-father-in-law. It is almost as bizarre as when he received the talk on safe sex and the proper usage of condoms from Yakov when he hit puberty.
“It’s… well, thank you,” he says finally.
Toshiya claps his hands together. “I’ve arranged for Matsumoto-san to pick up the planks from the bed in the afternoon. He can reuse some of them to make a new bed. If you could help to carry out the debris from Yuuri’s room in an hour or so? We can still use the old mattress, of course, it just needs a bit of airing.”
Victor perks up at that. “Er, yes, perhaps I should go up now and strip the bedsheets?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Toshiya chuckles and waves his hand. “Hiroko and Mari will take care of that, as soon as they’re finished preparing the bath-house.”
All the blood withdraws from Victor’s face and he insists on clearing up as much mess as he can himself. Yuuri would never, ever forgive him if Mari pulled out a joke involving a condom or lube.
He rushes up the stairs hoping he’s still in time to retrieve the incriminating items before somebody stumbles upon them.