Work Text:
The clack of a keyboard fills the otherwise silent room as fingers deftly tap away at the keys.
“Alright that seems like a good place to end, maybe I’ll finish this up after I shower. I’ll talk to you later, Phichit.”
“Sounds good, just make sure you let me read it before you post it okay?”
“Of course, you know I’m nothing without my bitch ass beta.”
“Damn straight! Your words do unspeakable things to me, Yuuri.”
“Oh my god, Phichit please.”
“You know maybe I’ll take a shower too, a nice long, hot—”
“OKAY! Well, I’m gonna go before you get too comfortable.”
“Too late.”
“Goodbye, Phichit.”
Yuuri pulls the headset off before he could hear Phichit’s reply, or anything else for that matter, and leans back in his chair. He arches his back with his arms extended above his head, the burn in his muscles from the stretch extremely gratifying. Then, as he releases a breath, he stands to grab a change of clothes and makes his way to the shower.
As much as Yuuri loves his family’s onsen he was grateful for the private modern bathroom they had for themselves. Sometimes he just wanted to wash in the serenity of solitude, especially after a session of writing.
He and Phichit had been chatting all evening as he wrote, it had sort of become a tradition of theirs when they shared a dorm in Detroit. On a particularly stressful evening during a last minute essay writing marathon Phichit had rolled his chair over to Yuuri, unable to make sense of the words on his screen anymore and intent on distracting himself for a bit. What Phichit was unaware of, however, was that Yuuri had lost his focus about half an hour earlier and the document open on his screen was most certainly not his economics paper.
Yuuri had initially been extremely reluctant when Phichit offered to beta read for him after that, but Phichit was nothing if not persistent and Yuuri eventually caved. It was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to him to and his writing.
The bathroom is small, there was no tub for soaking; the toilet and sink were across from each other and there was a sliding door dividing them from the shower.
Yuuri places his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. He then pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into the basket under the sink, the rest of his clothing follows suit. Now completely nude the shameful evidence of Yuuri’s excitement was impossible to ignore.
How pathetic was he to be turned on by his own writing?
Yuuri sighs as he turns on the faucet and lets the water warm for a moment, perhaps he’ll be able to will his shame away.
He lets the water pour over him, thoroughly wetting his hair and skin before turning the water off and lathering some soap into his hair. He works the shampoo in circular motions and can’t help but feel a little guilty. His idol, the object of his fantasies since he discovered masturbation, the legend himself Victor Nikiforov has been living just down the hall from him for weeks now... and he just spent the evening writing erotic fanfiction.
God he was pathetic.
Yuuri rinsed the soap from his hair and began washing his body with a coarse sponge. He exhales contentedly closing his eyes and reveling in the sensation of gentle scraping. A stray hand found it’s way to his chest, sliding down his soapy skin down to his thighs.
He was pathetic and extremely keyed up. Apparently imagining sexual scenarios for hours on end can do that to you. Having Victor around certainly didn’t help either, it was like he was deliberately testing him; showing up naked out of thin air, tying his robes loosely so they expose his smooth pale skin, touching Yuuri’s face as he knelt just inches away, if only Yuuri had just leaned forward ever so slightly…
“Ugh!” Yuuri cries in frustration as he snaps out of his daydream.
It was becoming painfully more obvious to Yuuri that this problem was not simply going to go away on its own, not anytime soon at least.
What harm was there in indulging himself a little?
Yuuri bit his lip as he tentatively wraps a hand around himself. He inhales sharply at the contact. He was incredibly sensitive from weeks of neglect. He couldn’t bring himself to relieve his tension out of fear and embarrassment of being heard, but that resolve was fading fast.
He groans appreciatively as he strokes upwards, his thumb circling the head of his cock. He lets his eyes close and allows himself get lost in the pleasure coursing through his veins.
Yuuri is weak and pathetic and it was only a matter of time until Victor notices.
“Yuuuuri!” Victor calls exuberantly as he bounds into Yuuri’s room. He frowns when he notices the room is, in fact, empty.
“My Yuuri, where have you gone?” He asks no one in particular as he sits on the edge of Yuuri’s bed. He glances around the room as he contemplates whether to continue his search or wait here for Yuuri to return. He thinks the latter is probably the best course of action.
The room is much smaller than Victor is used to, but he figures that is probably just how a lot of Japanese homes are. There are some conspicuous discolourations on the wall where clearly something was hung at some point, maybe a painting or a poster, but was taken down recently. Briefly Victor wonders what could have covered these walls that Yuuri no longer wanted.
Eventually his gaze reaches the desk across from the bed, it is well used, tidy and an open laptop sits in the middle.
Victor pushes himself off the bed and walks over to the modestly sized desk, intent on browsing the book titles for some idea of what interests Yuuri. He had been here for weeks and so far the only thing he has learned about Yuuri Katsuki was that he was shy, so painfully shy.
He acted nothing like the boy he had met at the banquet. That boy was bold, charming and fun. Victor knew deep down that that Yuuri was still very much a part of his Yuuri, he just needed time to draw that spark out of him.
It was the very same spark that combusted into a brilliant flame whenever Yuuri performed to Eros. Each time Victor watched him he became a little more enraptured by the allure that was Yuuri Katsuki.
A noise from the laptop draws Victor’s attention downward, where he sees a notification in the top righthand corner of the screen.
PHI+CHU: Oh and if anything happens between u and Victor u better tell me ASAP! U write about riding him but man if u actually did it u’d be a legend!
Victor feels a pang in his chest when he reads his name on the screen. He knows he shouldn’t read a message intended only for Yuuri’s eyes but he couldn’t ignore his own name popping up and screaming in his face.
He feels a warmth rising in his cheeks at the salacious nature of the message.
They couldn’t have possibly been referring to him? Could they? No, absolutely not. They had mentioned writing. It must have been a character with the same name, Yuuri would never write about a real person… right?
But the message had also said Yuuri wrote himself with this Victor.
Open on the screen was a word document clearly in progress. Yuuri must have stepped away for a break. In his heart he knew it was wrong, it was oh so wrong. Victor was just desperate enough to do it anyway.
He reaches out and with two fingers scrolls up until a certain paragraph catches his eye.
I thread my fingers through silky silver locks, gripping tightly.
“Ahh, just like that. God Victor, you look even more beautiful on my cock then you do on the ice.” I gasped, angling my hips up a little more. Victor moaned around me, the vibrations eliciting a loud moan.
Victor pulls off with a wet ‘pop’ and looks up at me with those heart-stoppingly blue eyes and an enticing flush across his face.
“Not as beautiful as you were out there today. That quad flip, oh my god,” Victor hummed breathlessly as he kissed the tip of my dick.
“Victor...”
“Victor?”
Victor startles and forcefully pushes himself away from the desk. He stumbles back and his foot hits the frame of the bed, causing Victor to lose his balance and fall. He flicks his gaze to the door to see Yuuri standing there, his hair wet and mussed. A damp towel hung from the Japanese man’s shoulders, his very bare, very shirtless shoulders. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of blue sweat pants.
“Oh, Yuuri, hello,” Victor greets, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He smiles softly at Yuuri in an attempt to hide the hysteria he felt gnawing under his skin.
“What are you doing in my room?” Yuuri asks apprehensively.
“I was looking for you,” Victor answers simply.
“Oh,” Yuuri’s eyes flickered to his laptop. “Well, here I am,” He says as he casually closes the computer.
“There you are,” Victor rasps, swallowing thickly. His eyes trail down Yuuri’s back, following the line of defined muscles down until they disappear into the waist of his sweatpants.
Oh god was he an aroused, flustered mess.
Not that you would ever know it looking at him. Victor was undeniably skilled at hiding his true feelings and never was he ever more grateful for this ability than he was right now.
“Victor?"
Victor snapped his attention back up to Yuuri’s face. Okay, so he wasn’t perfect.
“It wasn’t important and I can see you were getting ready for bed, I’ll let you sleep. Good night, Yuuri,” Victor stood and took his leave.
“Night,” Yuuri calls after him, but Victor was already down the hall and closing his bedroom door behind him.
Victor lets himself fall onto his bed with a long sigh. He lay sprawled out and staring up at the ceiling, burning with a myriad of emotions. That was a less than graceful exit for him, for anyone actually. There was no way Yuuri wouldn’t peg his behaviour as odd.
Burying his face in his hands he groans in frustration. He was Victor Fucking Nikiforov. He could charm the masses and dazzle reporters on a daily basis but when it came Yuuri God-Damn Katsuki he became a fumbling idiot.
He was trying to take it slow, he really was. Yuuri had been clearly uncomfortable with Victor’s initial advances and he was trying so hard to take things at Yuuri’s pace but it was times like this he felt like he was going nowhere fast.
Victor’s heart clenches painfully at the feeling of longing burning in his chest.
He now had very explicit confirmation that Yuuri yearned for Victor in very much the same way Victor yearned for him but rather than feeling giddy with excitement his gut churned with unease. He couldn’t let Yuuri know what he read, he couldn’t change how he talked or interacted with Yuuri. He was right where he always was, but now it was made a thousand times more painful knowing what we could have if he could just get Yuuri to open up to him.
A flash of a different Yuuri crossed his mind, a Yuuri that was flushed and clinging to Victor’s body, rubbing against him with slow rolls of his hips.
A Yuuri that lurked just below the surface of his sweet piglet sleeping in the next room.
With a sigh Victor slid out of his pants and kicked them to the floor, the top of his robes quickly following suit. He settles himself comfortably atop the cool, downy sheets of his bed. In the privacy of his own room now Victor was eager to melt away at least some of the tension that had built up over the day.
Yuuri lay on his bed, stunned. Everything around him was out of focus, his glasses resting on his headboard as he fruitlessly tried to will himself to sleep. What the hell was that? Yuuri had assumed Victor was in his room in an attempt to plead his way into Yuuri’s bed again but he had just up and left without so much as a pout.
Did he read what Yuuri had written? He reasoned with himself that Victor wouldn't violate his privacy like that.
But what if he had?
His mounting fear was quickly drowning out any semblance of logic he may have had.
Oh god, he had read it. Victor knew. He knew how pathetic and weird Yuuri was and he was going to leave Yuuri, go back to Russia and god why was it so hard to breathe?
Yuuri takes a stuttering breath, trying desperately to fill his burning lungs. Tears prick in his eyes and he aches all over.
Calm down, he tells himself. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
He couldn't do this now, needed to calm himself down. The walls of the inn were not that thick, surely Victor will overhear him.
A high pitched whine outside his door shocks Yuuri out of his spiral. He rubs unshed tears from his eyes and sits up. He crawls out of bed and opens the door. Makkachin looks up from where she lay curled up on the floor and her tail thumps excitedly. Yuuri kneels down and scritches behind the poodle's ear.
“Hey pretty girl, why aren't you with Victor,” He asks the dog as though she could answer him.
She continues to look up at Yuuri with expectant eyes. If his bed wasn't so small he would gladly welcome her to sleep with him but as much as Makkachin liked to think she is, she is far from a lap dog.
“Come on,” Yuuri beckons her, patting his leg.
Makkachin obediently stands and follows Yuuri down the hall, trotting by his side.
Yuuri quietly knocks on the sliding door, not wanting to wake Victor should he be sleeping but also not wanting to startle him on the off chance he was still awake. After receiving no response Yuuri cracks open the door.
“Victor, Makka was—”
“Ngh.”
Yuuri freezes.
His attention becomes hyper focused on the sounds in the room. Perhaps he just imagined that.
“Yuuri.”
Nope. He most certainly did not imagine that.
The low frantic gasps and rhythmic slap of wet skin were now impossible to ignore. Yuuri really should not be hearing this, he should leave. He turns to go back to his room and hopefully forget what he heard, hot and embarrassed.
“I need you.”
The desperate plea went straight to his dick, much louder than the previous soft moaning, it was like Victor wanted him to hear. Like he was asking Yuuri to join him. Yuuri swallows thickly.
“Yuuri, please!”
Spurred on by Victor’s wanton moaning, Yuuri pushed the door open just enough to slip inside and closed it again. Silently he apologizes to Makkachin, she can sleep in his bed tonight.
In the darkness of the room, Yuuri was greeted with a sight straight out of his fantasies. Victor lay beautifully undone with his lower half raised just off the bed, his legs spread open and his face buried in his pillows. One hand stroking in long leisurely motions and the other behind him working himself open.
Another jolt of arousal courses through him. His whole body felt like it had been set on fire.
Victor looks up at Yuuri through half-lidded eyes, icy blue and smouldering. They silently beckon him and Yuuri is drawn closer until he is kneeling on the edge of the bed.
“Can I?” He croaks.
“Please just touch me!” Victor begs needily, arching further off the bed.
All at once Yuuri is ontop of him, his hand is over Victor’s and he’s sucking a kiss into the unmarked skin of his neck. Victor keens and Yuuri mouths hot kisses up to his bitten lips. With his free hand Yuuri forces Victor to turn towards him, the kiss was wet and messy, open mouthed and hasty.
It was everything Yuuri had desired for so long.
Victor removes his hand from his dick, letting Yuuri take over as he instead draws lines of electricity down Yuuri’s skin; he palms at the hardness through Yuuri’s pants and Yuuri rolls his hips down into the touch, drawing a moan from the back of his throat.
They parted from their kiss, breathless and Yuuri rests his forehead on Victor’s, warm chocolate gazing into cold cerulean.
“You don't know how long I've wanted this,” Yuuri sighs, closing his eyes. His voice rough and shaking with want.
“I think I have an idea,” Victor teases as he hooks his thumb into the waist of Yuuri’s sweatpants and yanks them part way down.
Yuuri’s cock springs free and brushes against Victor’s abdomen. Victor grinds upwards into Yuuri eliciting, a moan from him. The reaction pleases Victor immensely.
Hastily Yuuri removes his bottoms completely and presses back into Victor, pulling him into another messy kiss. Victor wraps both arms around him, one tangled in Yuuri’s hair and the other squeezing his ass. Yuuri rolls his hips forward with a muffled groan.
Yuuri uses his free hand to hook one of Victor’s legs on his shoulder and takes both of them in hand. He ruts against Victor quick and needy.
Victor throws his head back, crying out with each thrust. He clings desperately to Yuuri, digging his nails into his back. He muffles his voice in Yuuri’s shoulder, biting down with a force that draws a long, pleasured moan out of Yuuri. He likes to be marked during sex, Victor had not expected that but was extremely pleased with the discovery nonetheless.
Yuuri bares down forcibly with his hips again.
“Ahh! Yuuri, Yuuri, I'm so close, please!”
Yuuri slows his rhythm, grinning smugly when Victor loudly protests, his hips chasing the friction.
“Mmm, not just yet,” He murmurs against Victor’s neck, biting just under his jaw.
Victor sucks in a gasp and tightens his grip on Yuuri. It seems Victor enjoys being marked too. The thought of being claimed by Yuuri, marked for everyone to see that he was Yuuri’s and Yuuri was his in return makes him salivate.
Their movements become more languid, sensual and adoring, memorizing the contour of each other with their hands, hungrily marking smooth skin with bruises and bites.
They kiss again and again, long and slow like they are addicted to the taste and can't get enough. Victor rolls them both so he is straddling Yuuri. He kisses, licks and nips his way down Yuuri’s neck, roughly thumbing his nipples.
“Victor!” Yuuri arches into the touch.
“You’re so beautiful, поросенок, ” Victor says adoringly, biting a mark into Yuuri’s hip. Yuuri bucks his hips with a high pitched whine.
“Even more beautiful than on the ice,”
Yuuri’s stomach flips, his eyes wide. Before he can react to the fact Victor just quoted his story Victor’s tongue is hot on his dick and Yuuri tosses his head back, eyes closed. Victor licks up the length of him, circles his tongue around the head of Yuuri’s cock and takes the tip in his mouth, sucking hard. Yuuri bites back another moan as a hand threads through Victor’s soft silvery hair. And then Victor moves.
He takes a little more of Yuuri with each nod of his head and then suddenly all at once. Yuuri cries out in shock and fists his hand in Victor hair, causing him to moan. The vibrations had Yuuri momentarily seeing stars. He moves his hips in time with Victor, a stream of pleasured cries and praises falling from his lips.
“Ah! Victor, yes, so good!” He could feel a warmth coiling in his abdomen. Just as he felt like it was going to let go he pulls Victor off of him with a wet ‘pop’.
Victor glances up at Yuuri, blinking the tears from the corner of his eyes and looks confused as to why he stopped him.
“Victor, I want to…” Yuuri trails off and looks askance. Victor grins, understanding immediately and crawls back up to straddle Yuuri again. Victor places a hand on the side of Yuuri’s face, regarding him with warm eyes and stroking his thumb across his cheek. Uncertain chocolate brown eyes look back up at him.
“I’ve waited so long for this, please, just fuck me already,” Victor says wantonly, placing a hand on Yuuri’s chest.
Like a switch had been flipped all traces of hesitance evaporates. Yuuri reaches for the bottle of lube on the night table and thoroughly slicks up his cock. He roughly grips Victor’s hip with one hand and lines himself up with the other.
Yuuri presses into Victor with little resistance, slowly sinking into the heat. Victor trembles once he is fully seated, his eyes closed and reveling in the feeling. Yuuri laughs breathily as a hand caresses up Victor’s chest, roughly flicking his thumb over one of his pink nipples. Victor jerks against Yuuri and Yuuri groans lowly.
He settles both his hands on Victor’s hips and tucks his legs up. Then, Yuuri lifts Victor halfway off him before plunging him back down again.
“Ah!” Victor cries, steadying himself on Yuuri’s knee.
“Ngh,” Yuuri groans, biting his lip as he slowly builds up a rhythm. Ruthlessly he fucks up into Victor. Victor devolves into a stream of senseless moans and Russian as he meets each of Yuuri’s thrusts. Yuuri wraps a hand around Victor’s bouncing cock, his skin slick with sweat and lubricant, stroking it with each upward movement of his hips.
“Oh, god yes! YuuriYuuriYuuri!” Victor moans his name like a mantra, already oh so far gone. He is lost in his own pleasure as he bounces on Yuuri’s cock, it was like a scene straight out of his own dreams. He was getting beautifully taken apart by the boy he fell for at the Sochi banquet and god he was amazing. Then Yuuri shifts his hips ever so slightly and Victor is seeing white.
Not two strokes later he paints Yuuri’s abs with his orgasm, his whole body trembling, meanwhile Yuuri continues to fuck Victor through it. Victor’s breathing comes in short gasping hiccups and somehow it’s still not enough. Victor has been pining and wanting for months and god he wants more. He wants everything Yuuri could give him.
“Yuuri, please!” Victor somehow manages to beg.
With a grunt Yuuri stops and pulls out, Victor nearly sobs from the sudden emptiness. But then Yuuri is sitting up and flips Victor onto his back.
“On your knees,” Yuuri demands, eyes half lidded and hungry. Victor keens and obediently does as he is told.
He’s hardly positioned himself when he feels Yuuri’s hand on his back, pushing his upper half into the sheets and Yuuri’s slick erection insistently pressing back up against his hole. With one hand Yuuri roughly pulls Victor back onto his dick and Victor screams.
“Ah, yeah. That’s right, scream for me. Let everyone hear you,” Yuuri growls as he leans back and fucks Victor into the mattress. Victor’s heart squeezes and he feels impossibly hotter. He’s unleashed a beast and god it was absolutely perfect.
“Let them know what I do to you, let them know you’re mine,” Yuuri bends over, pressing into Victor’s muscled back and gripping the sheets near Victor’s head, completely caging him in.
Victor whines and trembles and fucks desperately back onto Yuuri, having long lost the ability to form words. Yuuri presses his lips to the nape of Victor’s neck soft and sweet, then bites.
A strangled noise rips from Victor’s throat, muffled by the sheets as Yuuri pistons one last time into him.
Yuuri cums hard, holding onto Victor like his life depended on it and biting deeper marks into his neck as he shakes with the aftershocks of orgasm.
They both slumped together into the bed, panting, sweaty and debauched.
Yuuri lay atop Victor for a few moments as he caught his breath, kissing and soothing the angry red mark on the back of his neck like an apology. If Victor could speak he would probably thank Yuuri for the bite mark, shower him in praises and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe anymore.
“Amazing, wonderful, beautiful,” Yuuri mumbles praises against salty sweat slicked skin. Victor sighs blissfully, melting into the touch. Yuuri was rough and dominant, sweet and kind and Victor’s heart felt like it might burst he was so overwhelmed with how incredible this boy was.
Eventually Yuuri pulls out and rolls onto his back, the bed refreshingly cool to his hot skin. Yuuri turns his head toward Victor, only to find Victor staring at him with a smile he could only describe as adoring. Yuuri has to swallow his heart back down when it jumps into his throat.
Victor’s normally perfectly styled hair was tousled and sticking to his forehead, a sight Yuuri had only seen once before when Victor showed up to practice late and hungover. It was much different this time around, a much more intimate sight, one that he was to blame for.
Absentmindedly Yuuri reaches out and gently caresses Victor’s face with the back of his fingers. Victor turns into the touch and presses a kiss into each of his knuckles. Yuuri flushes.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Yuuri murmurs, mostly to himself. Victor chuckles softly.
“Me either, but I hope it’s not the last time,” Victor replies, his voice sounding a little raw but full of a fondness that makes Yuuri’s heart squeeze painfully.
Suddenly, the lump in Yuuri’s throat returns and he finds himself choking back tears that threaten to well up in his eyes.
Victor reaches out, places a hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck and then Victor’s kiss swollen lips are on his, tender and sweet and the tears flow. Yuuri shakes, breathing unevenly through his nose and pulls himself closer to Victor. Yuuri wraps both arms around his neck, burying his fingers in his silky hair. Victor brings his other hand to Yuuri’s face, thumbing away tears as they fell. They tenderly kiss and lick into each other's mouths until the tears finally stop.
Yuuri pulls away first, sniffing. He feels so raw.
“We’re going to have to talk about this aren’t we?” He asks, voice low and scratchy.
Victor shakes his head.
“Later, for now c’mere.” Victor pulls Yuuri in for another kiss, soft and sweet. Earlier this evening Yuuri was writing about all the things he wanted to do to Victor, and now here he was in his arms, his feelings seemingly reciprocated somehow. Yuuri didn’t understand how it happened or why but he was happy it did.
Victor nibbles on Yuuri’s lower lip and Yuuri obliges by parting his lips enough for Victor to deepen their kiss. Yuuri wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, trading soft languid kisses and tender caresses, but it felt like time stretched on forever in their own little world of each other.
Yuuri soon found himself wrapped up in Victor completely, his head tucked under his chin and mouthing sleepy kisses at his collarbone. Victor ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, the contact soothing him. They really should clean themselves up but Yuuri was far too comfortable where he was and a little more than afraid that the moment he stepped away the spell would be broken. Victor didn’t seem any more intent on budging than he was either.
“Sleep with me tonight?” Victor asks, pressing a kiss into Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri closes his eyes, humming in affirmation as he nuzzled in closer, too tired to vocalize his agreement.
For once Yuuri wasn’t going to over-think things. He was going to enjoy this moment for what it was and could deal with the consequences in the morning, whatever they might be.
Just for this moment Victor was his and he was Victor’s.
PHI+CHU: Yuuri, omg this is the hottest thing u’ve ever written, I’m on fire!!
PHI+CHU: Ur thirsty af.
KATSUDAMN: Thx, Phichit. Been getting a lot of good feedback too.
PHI+CHU: Srsly, tho we’ve gotta work on plan Get The V. He dropped everything to go to Japan and be ur coach Yuuri, go seduce that gay ass mf!
KATSUDAMN: Phichit, pls.
PHI+CHU: I’m srs!! Ditch the fic, get some dic!! Live ur dreams Katsuki.
KATSUDAMN: I appreciate the concern but I think I have things under control.
KATSUDAMN: Anyway, I g2g.
PHI+CHU: Hot date w/ ur coach? /wiggles eyebrows/
KATSUDAMN: Yes, it’s called practice.
PHI+CHU: Just wait until AFTER practice to suck him off, kay?
KATSUDAMN: Bye, Phichit.
Yuuri signs off and closes his laptop with a sigh. He loves Phichit dearly, but boy was he hard to deal with sometimes.
“Ready to go?” Victor asks. He is sitting on Yuuri’s bed with Makkachin, the dogs paws in his hands, playing with her while he waited for Yuuri.
“Yup,” Yuuri replies, grabbing his bag.
The walk to the rink is quiet, save for the hum of summer cicadas in the air. Yuuri walks side by side with Victor as they cross the bridge, Victor’s gaze fixated on something in the horizon.
“We should do a beach day,” He says distantly. Yuuri turns and those cerulean eyes are boring into him. He smiles softly.
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Yuuri agrees, threading his fingers through Victor’s. Victor squeezes his hand and they walk fingers laced together for the remainder of their trek to the Ice Castle.
Yuuri knew this wouldn’t last forever, eventually, Victor would leave, go back to Russia and competitive skating, but until then he was going to savour each moment while he could.