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Winter Song

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By the time they reached their destination, Yuuri was shivering all over.

It had nothing to do with the cold.

In the elevator, Victor backed him up slowly against the wall using nothing but the heat of his stare. As Yuuri bumped into the mirrored paneling behind him, Victor placed an ungloved hand beside his head. The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in. It was the first time they’d been completely alone since the arena parking garage.

“What floor are we on again?” Victor murmured, his tone entirely too casual as he guided Yuuri’s chin upward. Their lips were only a breath apart.

Yuuri thought he might actually pass out. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, unable to think. “Um.”

“Was it seven? Yes, seven.” Victor turned to pressed the button for the seventh floor, then returned his attention to more important matters.

“Our rooms are on the fifth floor,” Yuuri clarified.

Victor wasn’t listening. He leaned in closer, still supporting himself with one hand on the wall, not touching Yuuri anywhere else except for his face. Victor dragged the pad of his thumb across Yuuri’s lower lip and said, “Your lips are chapped again. Have you been biting them?”

It was a miracle Yuuri’s knees didn’t buckle. Would he ever get used to this? His cheek burned beneath Victor’s fingers. “I . . . uh . . . .”

His complete lack of composure seemed to amuse Victor. His mouth spread into a grin, pure affection written over every inch of his face. “Yuuri?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri all but squeaked in reply. Victor’s thumb was still tracing the perimeter of his lower lip, slowly driving him mad. He couldn’t figure out if he was annoyed or ecstatic about it.

“You look very sweet when you blush,” Victor said. “You’ll have to forgive me for trying to make you do it as often as possible. I’m quite selfish, you see.”

Yuuri released his breath in a rush. As if he didn’t know that already.

Why on earth had he confirmed his interest in taking things further with Victor? He was a bad enough flirt before. Now he was never going to stop. He knew damn well the effect he had on Yuuri.

But what Victor wasn’t always aware of was that Yuuri could play games, too.

Angling his hips slightly forward, Yuuri parted his lips and took Victor’s perfectly manicured thumb into his mouth.

Victor’s entire demeanor changed. He let out a soft pout of a gasp, and his mouth fell open as he marveled at the heat and wetness. Not only had Yuuri’s boldness surprised him, but the tables had been turned on Victor as well, effectively reversing their positions in this game of seduction.

Yuuri wasn’t finished.

He let his eyes go dark the way he did when he skated his Eros routine. He sucked, moving his head a little as he got into it, then let his tongue curl and slide all around Victor’s thumb.

Victor exhaled something indecipherable in Russian. He went from having his palm flat against the elevator wall to having to support himself with his forearm.

Yuuri smiled with his eyes, pleased with himself and with Victor’s reaction. He tasted amazing. Clean skin with just a hint of Yuuri’s peppermint chapstick. He placed a hand against Victor’s chest and gently pushed him back. As his arm fell away, Victor’s thumb dragged a lazy trail of saliva down Yuuri’s lower lip and chin.

The elevator doors had just opened on the seventh floor. Victor’s cheeks were bitten with color, and he panted as he watched Yuuri wipe his chin and press the 5 on the panel of buttons.

“I like making you blush, too,” Yuuri said when the doors closed them in again. He was remarkably calm for someone who was mentally screaming inside.

A few moments later, the elevator doors opened with a cheerful ding on the fifth floor, and Yuuri strolled out, leaving a thoroughly seduced Victor behind. Once Yuuri’s back was turned, his expression melted into complete horror and shock.

He could not believe he’d had the audacity to do that. To his skating coach, no less.

But the look on Victor’s face . . . .

Oh, that had been worth it.

They had a set of rooms next door to each other, and Yuuri very purposefully passed Victor’s up and went straight for his own. As Yuuri slid the card key into the lock, Victor loomed behind him, the weight of his presence undeniable. His hands found the curves of Yuuri’s waist.

“My Yuuri is full of surprises tonight.”

Yuuri tried to remain calm as he opened the door. It was dark inside, the temperature just a bit shy of comfortable. The heater rumbled overhead, but there was still a chill in the air. Through the window on the far side of the room, he could see that it had started to snow.

He took off his shoes, dropped the room key onto a table, and pulled his windbreaker over his head.

“Are you sure our rooms aren’t on the seventh floor?” Victor asked as he looked around. “I’ve never seen any of this stuff in my life.”

Which wasn’t true, but Yuuri doubted Victor would listen, even if he told him. He might have had more alcohol at the restaurant than Yuuri realized.

He drew in a deep breath and held it as he removed the silver medal from around his neck and put it on the table. His glasses joined it a moment later, and he ran his fingers back through his hair. He was nervous, but the darkness helped boost his confidence. Deep breaths. In and out. Just like before a performance.

“Hey. . . .” Victor’s lower lip had popped out into a pout. “You’re supposed to wear that to bed tonight. 48 hours with the medal, Yuuri. That’s my rule.”

Yuuri turned and placed his palm flat over Victor’s heart. As their eyes locked, his hand slid down a few inches.

Victor wisely chose that moment to stop talking.

Yuuri pushed him backwards, guiding him across the room until he fell into a sitting position onto the couch. Victor laughed at first, but his smile slowly faded into something more serious as Yuuri’s knees hit the cushions on either side of his thighs. He straddled Victor but didn’t lower his body down, choosing instead to tower over him as he coiled his coach’s tie slowly around one hand.

Yuuri had no idea where his confidence had come from, but Victor clearly didn’t mind not being the one in charge. Smiling in the dark, he tilted his head back until it rested against the cushion of the couch. He placed his hands low on Yuuri’s hips. “I’d say I’ve never seen this side of you before, but that’s not true, is it? You’re just not on the ice this time.”

Fingers tightened around Victor’s tie, and then Yuuri was kissing him.

It took him approximately 90 seconds to realize he loved it, but the 89 or so seconds that preceded that epiphany were clumsy and unfocused. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands or if he was doing the right thing with his nose or lips.

Victor was obviously the more experienced one here, but for the most part, he let Yuuri guide him and establish what he wanted. Victor happily met him there and smiled against Yuuri’s lips as he coaxed him to lower himself down until he was fully seated upon his lap.

When Yuuri opened his mouth against Victor’s and felt the soft heat of a tongue for the first time, everything changed. He moaned, released Victor’s tie, and practically melted into him.

All ten of his fingers slid into silvery blond hair, and his thighs tightened around Victor’s hips. Yuuri’s body started moving without him being aware of it. A gentle rocking motion that made Victor hum deep in his chest. His hand slid up the back of Yuuri’s t-shirt. Long, cool fingers explored his over-heated skin, making him shiver all over.

“Mmm,” Victor said between kisses. He wet his lips as if wanting to savor what he’d just tasted. “I think my Yuuri liked that.”

Yuuri responded by pulling his t-shirt off his body and tossing it behind him. Dazed by the change in him, Victor murmured a curse under his breath, only to have his mouth claimed yet again a second later.

It made Yuuri feel incredibly sexy to hear Victor talk like that. In all their months of living together, Yuuri had never heard him cuss. He was half-naked now, his back exposed to the chill of the room, but Victor was still fully dressed in his formal suit and overcoat.

This was a problem.

With growing impatience, Yuuri pushed both the overcoat and suit jacket off Victor’s shoulders, but the heavy layers of fabric didn’t make it all the way down his arms before Yuuri turned his attention to the buttons on the vest. Beneath that was Victor’s dress shirt and probably another undershirt, and then there was also his tie to consider. . .

And really. How many layers did a man who was already acclimated to a freezing climate even need?

The buttons of the vest were easy enough to navigate, but the knot of Victor’s tie refused to give way. Yuuri broke away from the kiss so that he could concentrate.

Victor chuckled as he watched Yuuri’s frustration compound upon itself. “Easy, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

The endearment filled Yuuri’s head with white noise. Instantly, his heart was pounding.

How could Victor do that to him with a single word?

At last, he worked the tie’s knot free, and even just the sound of the length of silk sliding from Victor’s neck was so damn sexy that Yuuri suddenly found himself staring.

Victor was still half-dressed beneath him, with his clothes pushed part of the way down his arms and his hair all in a mess. He was easily the most beautiful thing Yuuri had ever seen in his life.

His hands slid down Victor’s chest, which was still concealed by his dress shirt. He was so warm and real and perfect. Yuuri had seen almost every inch of his body before, of course, but he had only dreamed about touching him like this. Victor’s build was solid and undeniably masculine, which was so in contrast with the delicate features of his face.

What was Yuuri supposed to do next? He had no idea.

Victor whispered his name in the dark and beckoned him closer, angling his head for another kiss.

It was about that time that Yuuri felt the press of Victor’s erection against his thigh.

Everything stopped as Yuuri went rigid.

His breath trembled out between them. If Victor couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding, Yuuri would be very surprised.

Victor’s eyes widened as he recognized the moment of panic for what it was. Leaning forward, he cupped Yuuri’s face with both hands and said, “Hey.” His voice was gentle. Patient. Not a hint of teasing to be found. “Don’t worry about that. My body is just reacting to yours, but we only do what you’re comfortable with. Nothing else. Okay?”

Victor wants to have sex with me, Yuuri realized.

Which was a stupid thought to have because of course he did. They were both adult men in their sexual prime, and Yuuri had just ripped off half their clothing. It was an understandable reaction that he didn’t fault Victor for.

Only now Yuuri was just . . . frozen. And he didn’t fully understand why.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Hopeless to sort through.

He was so tired.

“Yuuri.” Victor caressed his face, trying to get him to relax. “It’s okay if you want to stop or slow down. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Yuuri said, so quiet his voice was almost a whisper. “I just don’t know what I want.”

“That’s okay, too. You don’t have to decide that tonight. Come here.”

Yuuri let Victor pull him down into an embrace. He dropped his head onto Victor’s shoulder and hid his face there, embarrassed but also strangely excited. (Mostly embarrassed.)

When Victor hugged him tight against his chest, Yuuri squeezed him back in silent thanks for understanding and not making him say more, especially when he had no idea what to even think. Victor had his share of less-than-spectacular moments, but he could also be so incredibly attentive and sweet sometimes that it made Yuuri’s throat ache.

He snuggled closer and let his body relax, aware but no longer bothered by the feel of Victor’s erection between them. Yuuri trusted him to keep his word, and soon his breathing began to deepen and slow. He was falling asleep.

“If you ask me, I think what you want is a pillow,” Victor said as he rubbed Yuuri’s back. “I can feel how tired you are. Let’s get you in bed, okay?”

Yuuri made a pathetically weak growl of protest, which was muted against Victor’s neck.

Victor laughed. “Such disobedience to your coach. Come on. Up with you.”

Yuuri was so comfortable, he could have slept there all night, but Victor was insistent. Once he was finally on his feet, Yuuri stumbled toward the bathroom. He was half-blind with fatigue but paused long enough to say, “You’re not going back to your room, are you? You can sleep here.”

Victor had folded his coat and suit jacket over his arm, but upon hearing Yuuri’s invitation, he draped them over the chair instead. Pushing his bangs back out of his face, he smiled and said, “I thought you’d never ask.” His hands went to the buttons of his shirt. “Is it okay if I . . . ?”

Yuuri’s brow furrowed in disbelief.

Really? Now Victor was asking for permission to shed his clothes?

“Wear whatever you want,” Yuuri said. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

Once inside the bathroom, he shut the door and leaned his back against it. A thousand different emotions echoed inside his mind, but he was too tired to listen to any of them. He opened his eyes, stood up straight, and reached for his toothbrush.

There was a soft knock on the door. “I’m going to run to my room for a second,” Victor said from the other side. “I’ll be right back.”

A moment later, the outside door of the hotel room opened and closed. Silence took over, and Yuuri knew he was alone.

As he brushed his teeth with lackluster attention to detail—just enough to get the job done so he could go to bed—he thought about everything that had happened that night. About the competition and what it had felt like to know he’d shocked Victor speechless with that last quadruple flip. About the weight of a Grand Prix medal against his chest while people in the audience cheered and waved the flag of his country. About feeling like he finally fit in while sitting at the same dinner table as his peers.

And just as he was about to rinse his mouth with water, he finally worked out the meaning of Christophe’s lewd comment at dinner earlier—implying in front of God and everyone that the reason Yuuri was so exhausted was because Victor had been giving it to him good every night.

Yuuri then spent the next few moments of his life trying not to die as he choked on toothpaste.

When he finally recovered, he placed his toothbrush on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror.

Had all of that with Victor really just happened? The kiss on the ice . . . the encounter in the elevator . . . the couch.

Did he look different yet? Yuuri lifted his chin and squinted at his reflection. He did a little.

His hair was a mess, and his lips were red and full from Victor’s kisses. Yuuri let his hands slide down the length of his bare chest, across the soft belly, the subtle muscles of his abdomen, and to the light sprinkling of hair that dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Could he have done it?

Could he have slid the belt out of the loops of Victor’s pants and gotten down on his knees?

He wondered what it would be like to take a man into his mouth. Would he like the taste? Would he be any good at it?

Yuuri exhaled slowly as he let himself imagine it.

For months now, he had been trying to tap into his Eros and express his sexuality. He knew it was there and that it was stronger than even Victor probably suspected. Despite his earlier hesitation, Yuuri did want to have sex, and he knew without a doubt his first time was going to be with Victor. But he also recognized he wasn’t ready for that to happen yet and thought he might finally understand why.

He wanted to take his time with this.

His relationship with Victor had unfolded slowly over the span of months, and it had resided for years within Yuuri’s imagination before that. They’d been touching each other with their eyes long before he’d felt Victor’s tongue fill his mouth. All of it felt like a dance, and Yuuri wasn’t ready for the music to crash into its climax yet.

Outside, he heard the front door open and close again. Victor had returned from his own room and was probably getting into bed.

Yuuri blushed as he wondered what he would be wearing, but somehow he already knew Victor wouldn’t be naked. No, he was going to wait for Yuuri to make that move first.

His mouth softened into a shy smile. Calmly, he stripped out of his jeans until he was left in nothing but his black boxer briefs. Stifling a yawn against the back of his hand, he shut off the bathroom light and went to join his boyfriend in bed.


 

To be continued.