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Never Stop Winning

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Victor waved at the audience from the podium, looking down at his gold medal before looking over at Yuuri to his right, his eyes glinting with that determination and promise that sent a shiver down Victor's spine every time. Victor was twenty-nine and an Olympic gold medalist and in love with the Olympic silver medalist, and sometimes his life just felt too surreal to be believed.

The two of them kept trading golds, them and little Yuri, who honestly wasn't that little anymore. Yuuri was the reigning Four Continents gold medalist and World Champion, Yurio the Grand Prix and European Champion, though Victor kept Russia for himself twice over. Today, JJ Leroy kept Yurio from the Olympic podium and Victor spent the entirety of the Russian national anthem bracing himself for that earful later. But Yuri Plisetsky was still on his way up and his time would come. Katsuki Yuuri, four years Victor's junior, might still have one more Olympics in him, too.

But Victor was ready to go now. Really, truly this time. He hadn't told anyone yet.

"Have you remembered what you promised if I won?" Victor murmured to Yuuri as they stepped down together and skated off the ice.

"Of course not. I never forget my promises," Yuuri said. "Was that your motivation for breaking my world record today?"

Victor smiled. "You can believe whatever you want."

Yuuri's eyes shined as he linked their arms together. "Then I'm flattered," he said.

Victor stepped off the ice and barely got his skate guards back on before Yuuri tackled him to the ground. He grunted as his back hit the ground, and oh, he felt that one. But he couldn't be mad because Yuuri was yelling happily and crying.

"Ahh! I can't believe you won the Olympics!" Yuuri said, leaning over him. Distantly, Victor could see the crowd pointing their phones in their direction. Then, Yuuri kissed him in front of everyone and tangled their fingers together, catching the light off their rings, and there was no way that wasn't going to be the front page picture everywhere tomorrow.

And that wasn't even what Yuuri had promised Victor for winning the gold. That was just Yuuri being Yuuri, and Victor being in love.


Yuuri was already ready for bed when Victor came out of the shower, rubbing at his hair with a towel. There had been at least five hairs in the drain after his shower. That incontrovertible proof of his mortality would have bothered him a few years ago, but Yuuri was smiling at him, his hair still damp and curling around his ears in the most charming way.

"Victor," Yuuri said, like he was surprised to see Victor there, like they didn't live out of each other's pockets for half the year and talk for hours whenever they were apart, like he was still surprised that Victor was always exactly where Yuuri had left him. Victor kept waiting for Yuuri to get tired of him and realize he wasn't the wonderful person Yuuri had built up in his mind, but it never happened. Yuuri never got tired of him; hell, Yuuri couldn't get enough of him.

They had a long-standing agreement: win a gold and you get a favor. When Victor told Yuuri that for his next win, he wanted to be overwhelmed, brief confusion had flitted over Yuuri's face before his face broke into a grin. "Leave it to me," Yuuri said, and while Yuuri was wrong about that being Victor's only motivation for his win today, Victor would be lying if he said it hadn't mattered at all.

"Victor," Yuuri said again, and stood up from the bed. He walked across the room, his eyes trained on Victor's face. "Congratulations on your win," he said, tugging the towel from Victor's waist and letting it pool around his feet. He ran his thumb over Victor's bottom lip. "Don't get used to that feeling," Yuuri added, but didn't he know? Even after Victor retired, even after he told everyone and dealt with their shock and disappointment, even after reality settled in, Victor would never stop winning. Not when he had this.

Yuuri ran his hand across Victor's cheek and around to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Victor let himself follow, opening up his mouth as Yuuri did, letting him inside. He distantly felt his back hitting the wall behind him, a gentler thump than Yuuri's full-body tackle in the stadium, but it still made him wince after two days of intense competition and a lifetime of beating up his body. As if reading his mind, Yuuri made a soothing sound and ran his hands down Victor's sides.

Victor sighed as Yuuri broke away to suck possessively on Victor's neck; that was something he loved about Yuuri, just how everything he did was so possessive, even when no one except Victor was around to see it. Another thing Victor loved was how focused Yuuri was, how single-mindedly he threw himself into any task. Yuuri kissed his way down Victor's chest, falling to his knees and looking up as he sucked Victor's cock into his mouth. Victor drew in a breath and shivered, but didn't close his eyes, didn't lean his head back up against the wall. Yuuri was still looking at him and Victor couldn't look away.

Yuuri wrapped his hand around the base of Victor's cock and moved his hand in time with the slow movements of his mouth. It was too much, it was always too much, and Victor's breath came in great shuddering gasps.

"Yuuri," Victor breathed, running his fingers through Yuuri's hair. It was getting long. "My Yuuri."

"Do you want to get on the bed?" Yuuri asked, pulling away.

Victor laughed. "You tell me. I'll do whatever you want. That's the idea, isn't it?"

"Victor," Yuuri said, and it was half a whine. He climbed back to his feet. "Don't be a jerk. I'm seducing you here. Get on the bed."

Victor stopped being a jerk. He got on the bed.

Yuuri smiled as he followed Victor, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. Victor, like he always did, let his eyes travel down Yuuri's body, admiring the flat planes of his stomach. He leaned back and started stroking himself, his dick still wet from Yuuri's mouth, watching as Yuuri pushed down his pajama bottoms and stepped out of them.

"What are you doing?" Yuuri asked in a low, warning voice. "Did I tell you to do that?"

Victor froze in place, swallowing hard at Yuuri's voice. Yes, he was definitely being rewarded for that gold medal.

"Well?" Yuuri demanded.

Victor shook his head. "No," he said. "You didn't. I'll be good." He let his hand drop to his side.

"Good," Yuuri said and let his usual warm smile spread over his face again. He climbed onto the bed and leaned over Victor, kissing him over and over, coaxing Victor's mouth open so he could push his tongue inside. Yuuri's body hovered over Victor's, the warmth of his skin radiating against Victor's but not touching anywhere, not even an accidental brush of skin against skin. It made Victor desperate and restless, and he was moaning anxiously as Yuuri went on and on.

Fuck him, Victor thought. Fuck him and his never-ending stamina.

Yuuri broke away suddenly, a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, but with one glance down Victor could tell how affected Yuuri was by all of this. Yuuri reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind Victor's ear before getting lube from their nightstand.

"I can see your face better this way," Yuuri said conversationally, as he flipped open the cap and tilted the bottle into his hand. He kept up that conversational tone as he pushed his long fingers inside Victor, murmuring encouragement as Victor gripped the sheets and threw his head back. Victor was only taking in about every third thing Yuuri said as Yuuri added another finger and then another, but they were all good things: how long Yuuri had chased after Victor, how he could watch him like this all day, how Yuuri had wanted to tell everyone to close their eyes when Victor skated today because he'd wanted it all for himself, but how Yuuri also wanted to share Victor with the world. Victor was so gone and so ready to feel Yuuri inside him that he didn't even comprehend it at first when he felt Yuuri's mouth close around his cock again.

"Yuuri," Victor warned, not sure if he should say anything, but not wanting this to be over yet.

Yuuri pulled away again, smiling. "I know, I know," he said. "But I wanted to taste you."

Even now, even after all they'd been through together, it was hard to believe all that Yuuri was capable of, on and off the ice. Everyone, everywhere thought that Victor went to Hasetsu to save Yuuri from obscurity and himself, but too few people understood that Yuuri had saved him, too. That they'd saved each other. Victor reached down and touched the side of Yuuri's face, moaning when Yuuri turned his head and kissed Victor's palm.

Yuuri always liked being face-to-face when they did this, not really caring who did what as long as he could look at Victor. He pulled his fingers out, straightening up and slicking himself up quickly before Victor could mourn the loss too much. Yuuri hiked up Victor's legs onto his shoulders, bending forward as he pushed his cock inside Victor, slowly, slowly, oh god, way too fucking slow.

"I know it's been a long day," Yuuri said. "Let me do all the work."

"Oh," Victor said, and swallowed hard as Yuuri started moving.

"Just look at me, Victor," Yuuri said, pushing in and out, speeding up and reaching between Victor's legs to get a hand around Victor's cock, too. "Keep your eyes on me, always."

Victor did what he was told. He didn't think he was capable of anything else.

Yuuri's pace was relentless, not rushing but going just fast enough that he kept Victor on edge. And, as promised, Victor kept his eyes on Yuuri. Yuuri, his Yuuri, had the same determination on his face when he was attempting a quad at the four-minute mark of his free skate. And Victor understood. Skating, Victor, winning, sex, love, they were all jumbled up together in Yuuri's head as one big thing, and Victor just counted himself lucky for being the person Yuuri fixated on.

Victor came with a cry, moments before Yuuri did. When Yuuri collapsed in a sweaty heap a moment later, he didn't pull out right away, keeping them connected as he tilted up his face to capture Victor's mouth in a tired, happy kiss.

"Was that what you were after?" Yuuri asked a few minutes later, when they'd come down off the high and were wrapped around each other on the brink of sleep.

"You're always what I'm after," Victor said.

Victor had asked to be overwhelmed, and he had been. Katsuki Yuuri never disappointed him.


The press conference the next day was packed with reporters, all interested in Victor's announcement. There were rumors, of course, but no one would confirm or deny anything with the press. Victor climbed up to the podium confidently, glancing behind him only once to get Yuuri's nod of encouragement.

"Following my Olympic win, I've decided to officially announce my retirement from competitive ice skating," Victor told the crowd, pausing to let the gasps ripple their way through the crowd.

When Victor had told Yuuri last night, he'd expected disbelief and tears and maybe even anger. But Yuuri had taken it in stride. "Of course you won't even give me another chance to beat you on the Olympic stage," he'd said, but he was smiling as he did it, taking Victor's hand and rubbing his thumb back and forth over it. "If it's what you want, I'll stand behind you."

And with that, Victor had realized how much Yuuri had changed since he first came to Hasetsu, even how much he'd changed since Victor first coached him at the Grand Prix finals. Before, Yuuri thought all he had to offer Victor was his skating; now Yuuri knew that the best thing Yuuri had to offer Victor was Yuuri.

Still at the podium, Victor looked back at Yuuri once more. He turned around and leaned into the microphone again. "I'll now open the floor up for questions," Victor said.

A reporter stood up. "Victor, what will you do with your free time now?"

"I plan on continuing my coaching and choreography," Victor said. Then he smiled widely and waved for pictures, making sure the gold band around his finger was visible to everyone. "The rest of my time will be devoted to wedding planning, of course."