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“Yuuri! Nice day for an opening ceremony, isn’t it?”
Yuuri brushes the snow out of his face for the umpteenth time that morning and squints determinedly at the contingent huddled just a short distance in front of his own - according to the parade’s usual alphabetical formation that should be the Italian team ahead - until he spots the waving figure amidst the sea of dark coats. It takes him a moment to recognize the beaming face, and when the name finally comes to him the young woman has already walked over to join him.
“It’s… Sara, isn’t it? Sara Crispino?”
“Yup! Glad you remembered!” Sara’s violet eyes are as striking as always, even through the sheet of heavy snow pelting down on them from the heavens above.
Yuuri chuckles as he tugs the collar of his parka closer to cover his chin. “I know it’s been two years since the World Championships, but I’m not that bad at remembering people. Is your brother here too?”
“He’s somewhere in that mass of shivering humanity.” Sara gestures at the pack of athletes that seems to have grown tighter in the last two minutes, its members practically standing shoulder to shoulder at this point. “Snowstorms aren’t anything new to us, but that doesn’t make them any warmer does it? Especially when they’re as heavy as this one - I barely spotted you through the blizzard just now.”
“Yeah, the visibility must be close to zero right now. They’ll probably have to move the ceremony indoors at this rate.”
“In that case, I hope they make the announcement sooner rather than later if they’re going to change the location after all. I’d rather not spend the rest of the Games as a frozen icicle, thanks,” Sara says with a laugh as she stamps her feet a few times to get rid of the frost accumulating on the toes of her boots. “Do you think they’ll delay the ceremony any longer until the weather clears up?”
“They’ve already put it on hold for an hour, so probably not if they mean to stick to the schedule.” Yuuri smiles down at the younger skier. “Looks like your first Olympics is shaping up to be quite unforgettable, isn’t it?”
Sara’s eyes crinkle in mirth. “You could say that. But I suppose you’ve gotten used to all the pomp and formality, huh? This is your second Olympics after your win in Cortina, right?”
“And my third overall. To be honest I originally planned for Cortina to be my last Olympic outing - hard to top a silver medal at my age after all,” Yuuri grins. Then his gaze drifts back to where the other athletes are lining up with their respective national teams. “But our coach wanted me to compete again while I was still physically able, and I guess part of me can’t stay away from the excitement and festivity after all. So here I am,” he says, the corners of his lips upturned as if waiting - no, expecting someone to respond in kind.
After a long pause Sara lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, releasing a cloud of mist into the air. “Well, it’s always great to see another familiar face in a big international event like this one - although I’m not sure Michele shares my sentiments,” she adds with a resigned grin. “He’s been trying to keep every male in Squaw Valley away from his baby sister so far, but luckily for me the crowd at the Village is really easy to mingle with. The Korean speed skaters are staying just down the hall from us, and there’s this guy on their team that’s pretty cute,” she comments with a wink.
Just then, a ripple passes through the gathered athletes that precedes a silence fraught in anticipation. Sara glances over at her delegation to see them standing at attention, backs straight and heads held high. “Oh, I think the procession is starting soon! I have to get back, see you around!”
“See you!” Yuuri responds, then falls into formation with the rest of his contingent as Sara hurries forward. He rubs his gloved hands together to warm his numb fingers as a bugle starts playing to announce the beginning of the Parade of Nations, then blinks in surprise when a sudden ray of sunlight reflects off the rim of his glasses.
By some miracle, the sky had cleared just in time for the opening ceremony of the 1960 Winter Olympics.
“Chemicals, I’m telling you. Those Americans must’ve mixed up some newfangled cocktail to halt the blizzard. How else could a goddamn snowstorm just stop like someone turned a switch off?”
“You have the weirdest ideas sometimes, Kolya.”
Victor fiddles with his dress hat absentmindedly, only half-listening to his teammates’ banter and paying no attention at all to the lady reciting some sort of oath onstage. As far as he was concerned one opening ceremony was pretty much like another, and he’d barely even remembered the first one. Sure, they’d gone and bagged the gold medal in their nation’s first Winter Olympics appearance, but truth be told it wasn’t much different from the other major tournaments he’d played in around the world. There was the diverse pool of competitors of course, but whatever happened on the rink itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
What happened off the rink four years ago though… well, how could he forget the moment his life was completely changed?
“Oi Victor, head stuck in the clouds again? Did your mind freeze over from standing out the cold for so long?”
Victor blinks twice at the interruption, then smiles his usual camera-ready grin. “I’m not sure, my head’s feeling a little fuzzy. Maybe I accidentally inhaled a dose of those weather-manipulating chemicals Nikolai’s been talking about.”
While Nikolai sputters at the ensuing jabs and teasing by the team, Victor’s eyes stray to the left where the majority of the athletes are standing with their respective contingents. He knows there are actually more competitors than the number currently present, since some athletes choose to forego the opening ceremony in favor of more training before their events or just so they didn’t have to stay on their feet for hours on end, and Yuuri had told him before that he hadn’t participated in the parade during his previous Olympic outings - to get in some last-minute practice, but also because he wasn’t very fond of packed crowds. So when he’d led the Soviet delegation into the arena while bearing their flag he’d been fully prepared to find the one face that had never left his thoughts absent from the crowd already assembled before the cauldron, even though that didn’t stop him from scanning the Japanese contingent when he passed them.
Then the glint of sunlight deflected off a glass surface had caught his attention, and he’d craned his neck to the side to see that familiar joyful smile slowly spreading across facial features he knew like the back of his hand.
He’s here. He’s so close.
Or at least as close as they could be when a dozen different national teams were standing between them, but this is the shortest distance separating them since Victor’s stay in Hasetsu two years ago, and back then they had been never farther than an arm’s reach of each other throughout the summer. Victor had somehow convinced everyone back in Moscow that he was visiting Japan’s hot springs as treatment for his war wounds which were flaring up again, and indeed his legs had felt better than they had in years upon his return. But they were the least of the rejuvenation he’d experienced in those magical months - practically insignificant when compared to the new spark he’d discovered for life and love.
So as the last chords of The Star-Spangled Banner resound around the arena Victor keeps his eyes firmly on the bespectacled speck in the multitude stretching the length of the open space while his mind calculates the possible routes he could take to meet Yuuri as soon as possible. He’s pretty sure the athletes will be departing after the anthem is over, but with his delegation at the end of the procession and Yuuri’s in the middle it would be tough to find a way through the horde to get to where he is. He could ask around later for the whereabouts of the Japanese alpine skiing team’s apartments once things have settled down from the ceremony, and maybe he might not sound like a creep while doing so. There’s also the matter of hoodwinking his team regarding the purpose of his solo excursion, and how long he has before they start a headhunt for him and terrorize the entire Village, but -
A loud boom floods his ears as flocks of colorful balloons are released into the sky while fireworks explode, and while his countrymen whooped and clapped each other on the back with wide grins he sees the bespectacled speck break away from the crowd and sprint towards the nearest exit.
“Got to go, need to use the toilet!” he hollers, but nobody is paying attention anyway. While the entire audience is fixated on the brilliant flashes of light blossoming three hundred feet above them, Victor weaves his way around the buzzing throngs as expertly as he forges a path through oncoming opponents on the rink, then breaks into a full run once he’s clear of the athletes’ procession. He dashes towards the corridor leading out of the arena, the spectators on the stands hardly acknowledging his presence as they gape at the fireworks, then kicks up showers of fresh snow as he runs across the white expanse while cheers and applause sound behind him. Finally he comes to a stop, eyes wildly searching the nearly empty surroundings.
Then as a final strobe of lights shoots up into the atmosphere behind him, his gaze falls upon the parka-clad figure running towards him at full speed.
“Yuu - ” he starts to say, but the name never leaves his mouth fully before another pair of lips cover his and he falls backward into the snow with the wonderful weight of the person he loves on top of him.
Grey clouds roll in gradually, concealing the clear sky overhead, but to him it’s as if the sun itself has descended to land in his arms.
“Just like old times, huh?” Yuuri breathes into his ear, and Victor remembers another time when he’d been the one pinning the skier to the ground covered with the last snows of the season in the yard of the hot springs in Hasetsu. He smiles and tangles his fingers in messy dark locks, pulling his lover in for another kiss that lasts for a split second and an eternity at the same time.
“You grew your hair out,” he observes softly against Yuuri’s mouth.
“I thought it would be a nice change, but if I’d know they’d be completely encrusted in frost I would’ve gotten them cut short before I came here.”
“I like it,” Victor says happily. “It’s like you’re some kind of ice fairy.”
“Or an abominable snowman,” Yuuri laughs as he moves to get up.
“We’d both be abominable snowmen if we stay out any longer, the snowstorm looks like it’s ready for a second round.” Victor accepts the hand up and pulls himself to his feet, his fingers intertwined with Yuuri’s even after they’re both standing.
Yuuri eyes the masses trickling out of the arena towards the Village. “We should get a move on if we want to reach the apartments before the rest of the party.”
“Yeah,” Victor sighs, already formulating excuses in his head to evict the entire ice hockey team from their shared quarters. Or to get them to keep quiet and not try to listen in through his room door. Actually, evicting them might be an easier task.
Yuuri grins shyly as he tucks their joined hands into the pocket of Victor’s mammoth overcoat so that they’re out of sight, snug and warm in the lined fur. “Actually, the others said they would be hanging out in the cross-country team’s rooms after the ceremony - apparently someone brought an electric hot pot. I told them I’d be taking a nap, so they shouldn’t disturb us if we keep our voices down.”
Victor blinks once, then starts rubbing circles into his beloved’s palm within his overcoat pocket. “I forgot how cunning you could get when you set your sights on something,” he remarks with a smile.
“Then I’ll refresh your memory when we’re alone,” Yuuri promises, setting a thrill coursing through Victor’s veins.
Before Victor’s first Olympics his coach had warned the team about various… incidents they might be privy to in and around the Village. “It’s not like I can cordon off all of you from the ‘exchange of international goodwill’ or whatever you young people want to call your hookups, but remember you’re still here for the sport first and foremost. Act responsibly, avoid confrontations with other athletes whenever possible, and for God’s sake please use protection,” Coach Yakov had added with a groan.
So when someone from the Japanese team had downed a whole bottle of Aperol at the post-opening ceremony party and pulled him into a paso doble (at least Nikolai said it was a paso doble , he honestly couldn’t tell either way) Victor had prepared himself to decline politely the invitation back to their room that was sure to follow. What he hadn’t been prepared for was to end up dancing his socks off and having the time of his life, then have his heart beating at two hundred miles per hour as Yuuri grinded against his crotch while proposing in a slurred drawl that he teach him to skate - “or I can teach you to ski! I used to practice on the roof of my house /back at home during the winter!” he’d declared exuberantly before launching into an animated tirade entirely in Japanese.
That was how Victor ended up hauling Yuuri’s lithe, barely clothed and absolutely punch-drunk form back to the room he shared with the only other member of his team competing in the same sport, who was conspicuously nowhere to be found and only showed up two days later according to Yuuri’s recollections. He could’ve just dumped him onto his bed and headed back to join the celebrations, but for some reason he stayed to strip him of his socks (after draping the rest of his discarded clothing on the back of a chair) and tuck him under the covers, then help him out of bed and into the bathroom to throw up in the toilet, then wrap him in a bathrobe and tuck him in again. By that time he didn’t even feel like partying anymore, and his own no less inebriated mind had decided that curling up in bed next to the soundly snoring skier was the only logical course of action.
Victor doesn’t remember much of the next morning save for a great deal of confusion and much internal screaming that may have been external as well, but he does remember snuggling into the welcoming heat as good as any high-end bed warmer that later turns out to be Yuuri’s chest. It turns out he had quite a bit of a fixation with Yuuri’s chest, as evidenced the night after the ice hockey final where he’d managed to keep the both of them largely sober by squeezing himself onto his lap and nuzzling his shirt under the feigned influence of alcohol. If there was one thing he’d learned from Cortina, it was that becoming the laughingstock of your teammates was absolutely worth it when you got to remember every second of the most beautiful creature you’d ever laid eyes upon riding you into oblivion with perfect clarity.
Even back then, even when they’d only begun to acknowledge their attraction to each other both physically and emotionally in the heady exhilarating atmosphere only an event like the Olympics could generate, Victor had glimpsed the fiery passion hiding under Yuuri’s demure and retiring exterior. And if he’d unwrapped every layer of it one by one during that summer in Hasetsu, tonight it was on full display and ready to engulf him completely.
“Ngh… mm Yuuri...”
“Is this alright?” the man before him asks with a deceptively innocent tone, even as his fingers work rapidly to stroke Victor’s length to full mast. He runs the ball of his thumb over the head through the rough fabric of Victor’s pants, causing the back of his head to ram against the wall as spikes of pleasure shoot straight towards his brain.
“Haah – don’t you want to continue this on the bed, love?” Victor suggests even as his eyes are rolling back in their sockets from the long-anticipated touch, the steady warmth that sets his nerves on fire at every point of contact.
“Can’t wait any longer,” Yuuri mumbles into his shoulder by way of reply before he presses his lips to the crook of Victor’s bared neck. “Want you now.”
“Oh?” Victor’s hands aren’t remaining idle either as they move down Yuuri’s chest, leaving undone buttons and goosebumps on exposed skin in their wake. “Where would you want me then?” he asks while tugging Yuuri’s loosened belt free of its loops.
“Everywhere.” Yuuri’s arms snake around his lover’s neck as he lifts his hips, letting his pants slide down his legs until they pool around his ankles. “I want your hands on me Victor, on my arms and waist and thighs. I want your mouth on my nipples like you always do, sucking until they’re wet and twitching. I want you to stretch me open with your fingers until I can take you inside me, feel you spilling over in me. I’ve wanted you for so long I’m getting hard just - ” he gulps audibly, “Just from touching you.”
“You’re really blushing a lot, Yuuri.”
“I know. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way,” the smaller man admits bashfully as he leans into Victor’s solid frame, their bodies fitting in place like two well-oiled gears.
Victor buries his nose in Yuuri’s hair, dark strands already thawing from the cold tickling his cheeks as he manoeuvres them around so that Yuuri’s back is up against the wall instead. “I’m much the same. I felt like I’d left a part of me behind when I left Japan.”
“You were waving from the deck of the freighter for almost half an hour while it was sailing away from the harbour,” Yuuri reminisces fondly. “And before that you tried to convince me that nobody would notice if I smuggled myself away on board.”
“I did tell you their suites were quite roomy,” Victor grins as he rests his chin on Yuuri’s head and closes his eyes while the other mouths at his Adam’s apple. “It would be like a dream though, to be able to sail for home with you beside me. We could watch the ocean from the railing and try to spot whales and flying fish, or play shuffleboard on deck. You know how to play shuffleboard?”
“I might have won the price of a meal from a couple of rounds before when sailing home from America.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised. Or rather,” Victor continues as he draws Yuuri’s sweater down his shoulders until they’re hanging off his elbows, “I’ve gotten used to you surprising me at every turn.”
“Even after four years?”
“Even after four lifetimes. I don’t think I’m even capable of getting tired when I’m with you, Yuuri.”
“Is that so,” Yuuri murmurs with a soft smile, spine arching into the feeling of Victor’s mouth on his skin as he marks a trail of kisses down his front. “I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder.”
“More like drives the heart crazy with longing. Do you know that I sleep with the scrapbook you gave me under my pillow back in Moscow? I stuck all your postcards and letters in them so that they wouldn’t get wrinkled, and then people ask me why my neck always seems bent out of shape the next morning.”
“Oh you poor thing,” Yuuri says jokingly right before he breaks into a fit of giggles when Victor runs his tongue over the ticklish region below his navel. His foot shifts as Victor’s hand rummages in the clothing around it, then emerges with a small travel-sized bottle.
“The woman at the telegram office even made me tea the other day when I stopped by, she says I’m practically her co-worker what with the number of visits I’ve made. She’s also asked about you, and when she saw your photo she deduced that you must be a nice and polite young man who probably owns a dog and does gardening. Or that may have been because she’s heard too much about you from me already,” Victor adds with a laugh as he straightens, then lifts Yuuri’s left leg to hook around his waist before he flips the lid of the bottle open with one hand and squeezes some lubricant onto his fingers.
Yuuri chuckles lowly as he winds his arms around Victor’s torso to pull him closer. “Do you really go around gushing about me to everyone you meet?”
“Kind of, but I do leave out certain parts. Such as the sound you make when I touch this,” and Victor smiles at the moan he draws out from pressing his moist fingers against Yuuri’s entrance. “Or the way you bite on your lip when I do this,” he adds as he slips the tip of his forefinger into the puckered rim, then traces circles around the perimeter of its interior.
“More, Victor, please - ” Yuuri doesn’t even bother to finish as he lurches forward to crash his mouth against Victor’s, tongue probing against his teeth until they part to let him in. He tilts his chin sideways to deepen the kiss as his hips rock forward into Victor’s still-clothed crotch, arms moving up to either side of his neck. When they separate his glasses have already been knocked askew from the movement, and Victor helps him to push them up the bridge of his nose so that they’re out of the way even as he goes to work on his lover’s pants.
“Is this alright?” Victor asks in an echo of Yuuri’s previous words while he slips another finger in and scissors them against the ring of muscle around them until it opens up enough to allow them to sink in down to the knuckle. He starts to crook them at the joints, feeling around for that particular spot until a choked cry from Yuuri tells him that he’s found his target. Slowly he progresses from smoothing over it with the pads of his fingers to hitting it directly with every thrust, drinking in every pant and whine that falls from Yuuri’s lips.
“Victor, enough – do it now - ”
“Just a little more Yurochka, I don’t want to hurt you after not doing this for so long.” Instead Victor bends down to take Yuuri’s nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the sensitive nub until he can feel the tremors racking his entire body. He already has three fingers inside of Yuuri at this point and neither of them will be able to last much longer at the rate they’re going, as he realizes when he glances down at his freed erection leaking copiously onto his stomach. So he moves to lift Yuuri’s other leg up as well – then stops promptly and lets out a curse in Russian.
“Goddamnit, I forgot the condom,” he mutters, and Yuuri makes a high-pitched noise of frustration in response.
“I can’t believe I was carrying lube in my pocket and didn’t even remember to bring protection, fuck it.” Yuuri turns his half-lidded eyes on Victor’s face. “Can’t we just do without it instead?”
“Yuuri, we’re at a competition . You know this isn’t the time to take any risks - ” Suddenly Victor’s eyes light up with hope. “Maybe it’s still… oh bless your busybody soul Nikolai,” he exclaims softly as he produces a plastic wrapper from his shirt pocket.
Yuuri lets out an involuntary snort of laughter. “Still hasn’t changed a bit, has he?”
“As faithful as a watchdog and twice as nosy,” Victor agrees as he removes the wrapping and starts to slip the condom on. “Though one of these days he’ll probably slip contraband into my pocket just to watch me suffer – I’d better keep my suitcase out of reach from now on.”
“You can do that later, you’ve got more urgent matters to attend to at present,” Yuuri insists as he hoists himself up by his arms wrapped around Victor’s shoulders, then presses himself against the wall to give Victor more space for entry. “Now show me some of that medal-winning stamina, Nikiforov.”
“We both know I’m vastly outclassed compared to you when it comes to that,” Victor teases as he lines his manhood up with Yuuri’s body. “But I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s what I’ve been waiting for all this time,” Yuuri whispers with flashing eyes, then digs his fingernails into Victor’s back as they let the pleasure consume them whole.
“Or maybe a train, like the one we took when we went to Tokyo. I still remember you drooling on my sleeve when you were using my shoulder as a headrest.”
“Huh? You were the one sleeping while leaning on me, silly.”
“Really? But I was sure it was you – you were snoring for half the journey!”
“You were probably hearing your own snores.” Yuuri laughs as he burrows deeper into Victor’s chest under the sheets to avoid falling off the single bed that was barely large enough to fit two athletes at the same time. “But American trains are loud enough to drown out all other noises anyway.”
“Looks like I’ll have to get earplugs then. Hey, what’s Dartmouth like at this time of year?”
“Probably still chilly, even if spring arrives early this year. But walking through the college grounds is always a treat for the eyes.”
Victor smiles as he taps the rhythm of The Star-Spangled Banner lightly on the back of Yuuri’s palm. “Only if you’ll be there to show me around.”
“Of course I would be. Where are you going to find a better tour guide to show you all the sights?” Yuuri bumps their noses together with a chuckle, then cups Victor’s cheek gently. “Are you sure you’d want to stay back in America while the rest of your delegation head home though?”
“It’ll only be for a couple of weeks – if I can whisk myself off to spend three months in Japan I can definitely take a little vacation in the US. I mean, why in the world would I pass up the chance to travel without having to fend for myself alone for once?”
“You’ve gone to plenty of places with an entire ice hockey team in tow before.”
“But not with someone I would go to the ends of the earth for.” Victor hums contemplatively as he tucks his head in the hollow of Yuuri’s neck. “You know, the beginning of a new decade always fills people with a sort of anticipation – nothing life-changing as if it’s the turn of the century, but more like a new kickstart, you know? Like something big is starting to sprout and ready to turn things around for the better.”
“And what do you think might be changing for the better, hmm?” Yuuri enquires as he leans in so that their faces are inches apart.
Victor smiles tenderly as he closes the distance between their lips. “Let’s just say I have hope that soon I’ll never be travelling alone again.”