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Like Two Ships

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Yuuri was home and bone-tired, a ten-hour plane ride the day after a competition taking his legendary stamina and gleefully shoving it out at twelve-thousand meters. His body wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a million hours, but his brain knew his schedule — knew Victor's schedule — and knew there were only eighteen hours where they were going to exist in the same physical space before Victor had to fly out to do the same thing Yuuri had just done. And his brain wanted to touch Victor, dammit, no matter what his body needed.

Victor was standing in their bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame in such an attractive way that Yuuri wondered if he'd planned it. He probably had.

"Yuuri," Victor said. Just the sound of his name out of Victor's mouth — live and in person and not over some FaceTime call where Yuuri's phone had slid down when Yuuri's stupid knee slammed against his hotel room's desk just as they were getting to the good part — was enough to send a jolt of anticipation down Yuuri's spine. See? Yuuri's brain seemed to be telling his body. You want this. You need this.

"I'm going to take a shower," Yuuri said, and Victor's mouth pulled down at the corners. Yuuri waved his hands frantically, almost slapping himself in the face in his rush to clarify. "No, Victor — I'm sorry! I want to— I'll be right there — I just need a minute! I promise!"

Victor's frown turned into a smile, and he started laughing. "Okay, Yuuri. Don't keep me waiting too long." Then he turned and let his robe slip a little down his shoulder, and that time Yuuri knew it was definitely planned. See? See? thought Yuuri's brain, and he could already tell his body was coming around to agree.

Yuuri went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, scrubbing at his face with his hands as he waited for the water to get hot. Clouds of steam started to fill the room, making his glasses fog up. He pulled them off and placed them carefully onto the sink before he undressed. Even taking off his clothes turned out to be a hazard; when he stretched his arms above his head to pull off his shirt, it turned into a full-body yawn. The situation was getting desperate. At this rate, Yuuri was going to fall asleep in the shower and he'd drown under the spray or hit his head on the faucet, and that would make Victor so sad, right after he got over being angry about being shower stood-up.

"Wake up, Yuuri," he muttered to himself.

Yuuri didn't really have anything other than basic drugstore soap and shampoo, but Victor had a beauty product collection in their bathroom that Yurio had once darkly said probably cost more combined than Yuuri's parents' onsen. Which had to be an exaggeration. It was probably an exaggeration! One of the bottles had oranges and lemons on it with "ENERGY" written on it in English, so Yuuri took it into the shower with him.

The shower really was nice, the hot water unknotting muscles Yuuri hadn't even realized were sore. He washed with Victor's expensive soap and realized he already recognized the scent, that it was one he'd smelled on Victor lots of times when they were close. Yuuri shut his eyes and let the water run down his shoulders and back, easing away the tension and letting him recharge. He ran his hands down his body, pretending they were Victor's. He laughed to himself a little, thinking about the hundreds of times he'd done the same before Victor even knew who Yuuri was, back when Yuuri's life now was little more than an impossible glimmer.

Suddenly, making the most of their less than eighteen hours together seemed desperately important. Yuuri turned off the water and dried off. He considered wrapping the towel around his waist before going to their bedroom, but really, he knew he'd be losing it in a minute and Victor would be there to warm him up anyway. He just made a mad naked dash for their room, hoping Victor hadn't planned a surprise party with all of Yuuri's friends and family for no reason again. Yuu-chan's nosebleed had been very hard to get out of their carpet.

Luckily, this time, they were alone.

Victor was a lump in the middle of the bed, his face turned away from the door, the lamp on their nightstand bathing the room in dim light. Yuuri dove under the covers, curling around Victor's back, sighing as Victor's skin warmed him up.

"Did you miss me?" Yuuri murmured into Victor's ear, and bit down on it. Victor, satisfyingly, shivered at that. What Yuuri liked best was finding exactly the things he could do that would make Victor come apart for him; even after all this time, it was still sort of a wonder to realize that there were a lot of those.

"I missed you until you put your freezing feet on my legs," Victor replied, but there was no heat to it. Or rather, there was heat to it, but it was the kind Yuuri liked. Victor rolled over so they were face-to-face; he was smiling. Yuuri beamed back. "You're not going to fall asleep on me, are you?" Victor teased, though Yuuri could hear a little actual worry there, too. Yuuri was still tired, but sometimes there were things more important than sleep.

"I won't fall asleep yet," Yuuri promised. He found Victor's hand under the covers and linked their hands together, feeling Victor's ring pressed against his finger. He kissed Victor then, long and slow, letting Victor coax his mouth open with his tongue. Yuuri's breath caught in his chest and he closed his eyes when Victor broke away long enough to suck on Yuuri's jaw, the side of his neck, untangling their hands so he could run his hand down Yuuri's side.

Then Victor suddenly stopped.

Yuuri's eyes fluttered open again. "What?"

"Did you use my body wash?" Victor asked accusingly, and Yuuri started to laugh.

"Yes," Yuuri said, and then just to see Victor's reaction, added, "and then I accidentally spilled the rest down the drain." Victor's horrified gasp was delightful, and Yuuri took the opportunity to roll Victor onto his back so he could straddle him and pin his wrists to the mattress. He leaned down to fit their mouths together again. "I'm kidding," Yuuri said against Victor's lips. Then he rolled his hips to hear Victor gasp again, less horrified this time.

Victor shook his head. "Divorce still exists, you know."

Yuuri sat back and smiled, the smile he used to bewitch audiences everywhere and also the one person he loved the most. He made sure Victor's eyes were on him as he held his own hand in front of his face, licking his palm and sucking two of his fingers into his mouth. Victor's chest rose and fell a little faster, then faster still when Yuuri wrapped his hand around both of them, pulling them in long, slow strokes to start.

"I'm so glad you're home," Victor told him, then gasped and threw his head back when Yuuri gripped them tighter. He reached out and flexed his fingers on Yuuri's thighs, digging little half-moons into the skin with his nails. Yuuri hoped it left a mark, something of Victor's on Yuuri's skin tomorrow when Victor was halfway around the world.

I'm so sad you're leaving, Yuuri thought, but didn't say, not wanting to ruin the moment and not completely trusting himself to speak. Instead, he sped up his pace, thrusting forward as Victor thrust up. It wasn't long until Victor was spilling all over Yuuri's hand, and his wondering gasp of Yuuri's name was enough to send Yuuri tumbling after him. After, Victor watched and swallowed hard as Yuuri sucked on his own fingers again, another something of Victor's to remember him by.

"Do you have to go tomorrow?" Yuuri asked, once they were settled in bed with the lights off. "This doesn't feel like enough."

"It's never enough," Victor said into the dark. "I can never get enough of you, Yuuri. But just think, we can do this again in the morning when we wake up, and again when I get back."

The again and again and again went unsaid.