Work Text:
“You must know…” Victor can’t help himself. He should try harder. He’s skimming his fingers the length of Yuuri’s throat and finding fine hairs at his nape. Yuuri is still under his touch, looking up at him wordlessly.
Victor can’t help himself, he just keeps talking. “Have I been too subtle? Have I read this wrong? These questions keep me up at night...”
If there was a moment hanging in the air before him, where he was bold, brave and fearless enough to take what he wanted- It passed by him in a blink of Yuuri’s eye, the crinkle of his brow.
Restraint was a good thing. He’d tell himself those words a hundred times a day, a thousand as long as he could be near Yuuri. He knows he’s crumpling in on himself. He can’t help it.
He can’t help much about himself around Yuuri, he’s brighter and happier than he has been in years. It shows in small touches and beaming smiles, in hugs and quiet moments when they’re both exhausted from training. Restraint was a good thing.
Until Yuuri stilled him with fingers on his wrists.
“No,Victor I…” His heart thuds painfully at Yuuri’s hushed tone “I didn’t dare to hope, I couldn't believe you would-”
“Yuuri…?” The thud of his heart becomes a Jack hammer. There's a second of stunned disbelief, of unadulterated shock that this could possibly be happening before Yuuri continues.
“Yes. Yes. Victor-”
Yuuri is wide eyed and earnest, heart on his sleeve in such a visceral way it steals his breath for a moment, before his fingers are settling on Yuuri’s neck once more, thumb skimming the curve of his jaw. Victor is aware his fingers are trembling minutely, that there’s a roaring in his ears that has everything to do with Yuuri’s lips as they meet his in the most tentative of brushes.
Such a small thing to knock one’s equilibrium completely off course.
It happens again.
It’s a solid connection this time, searching and sure. Victor is sure his heart is beating from his chest at the touch, he feels the sweep of Yuuri’s tongue like a shock current to his gut. It punches the air from his lungs and starts blood racing in in his veins. Endorphins are rearing up, synapses snapping.
This is real.
This is happening.
He’s suddenly and soberly aware that Yuuri is kissing him, that he’s kissing Yuuri in return, that his hands are fisting in Yuuri’s dark hair and pulling the other man closer. Yuuri is here, and real, and sober, and kissing him so deliciously he can barely restrain himself.
But he doesn’t have to, does he? Not if he’s following Yuuri’s lead, allowing himself to be steered back to the bed, falling under hands as eager and nervous as his own as they fumble at layers of cloth.
All of the glancing touches of skin on skin, all of the unspoken words, all of the long nights waiting alone. All had led to Victors shirt freed of it’s confines and making its way to the floor, Yuuri’s following in quick succession. They’re pressed together on the edge of the hotel bed, Yuuri’s knees settled either side of Victor’s lap.
Yuuri is above him, an embodiment of eros realised in miles of tan skin and taut muscle that Victor is mapping with grasping hands and wet lips, pulling moans forth from Yuuri when he captures a nipple. There's a litany of his name falling from above him, washing his actions with praise.
“Victor, yes. Fuck-” Yuuri squirms in his lap pulling himself out of reach and looking down at Victor, “You want this?”
Victor doesn't need to consider the question, doesn't need the deep breath before submersion, “Yes, My Yuuri. I want you- I-”
“Say it again.” Yuuri is watching him like a hawk. There’s something behind his eyes, a glowing happiness in his features that makes it oh so easy to comply.
“I want you.” He puts everything he had into the words.
“Again.” Yuuri is melting against him, the word is a breathless blur against Victor’s collarbone.
“I want you. Yuuri, I need you.”
“You have me. I’m right here, Victor.”
And isn’t that the most miraculous fact of it all? Yuuri is here, he’s meeting Victor touch for touch and kiss for kiss in moments. The leaping of his heart is mirrored in the pulse under his mouth as he kisses down Yuuri’s throat. He gathers the man to him, twisting and hauling Yuuri back onto the mattress fully, crowding him against pillows under the weight of his body and desire.
Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri. He fills every sense and thought, this improbable man who caught Victor’s heart in seconds. Pinning the man beneath him with his hips is an afterthought to the roaming of his hands, he doesn’t know where to touch first, where to dedicate his fleeting attention. Yuuri is so much and more than he ever dreamed, writhing against him in desperation, hard and waiting below him.
He’s had countless months to imagine this, a million miles between them at first, and then the flimsy but ever present walls of their adjoining rooms barrier enough. He’s dreamed of tasting every inch Yuuri’s skin, of worshipping him for head to toe in adoration. He’s imagined Yuuri above him, taking him apart with teeth and tongue and sinfully skilled fingers. He’s wished for the moment he can gift Yuuri his hearts passion between the sheets, dedicating himself to the singular occupation of Yuuri’s desires.
He’d sold them both short. Yuuri is no passive imagining of perfection for his devotions, nor is Victor the picture of faithful subservience. They're grasping and gripping, fumbling and falling.
Yuuri is firm and determined, ridding first Victor then himself of their pants, ruthlessly kicked to the end of the bed in a shuffle of limbs that has their cock brushing and bumping against each other. The tide of Victor’s desire is surging ahead of his rationality again, rutting against Yuuri with gasping breaths.
Eroticism and Eros be damned, months of training and teasing the edges of Yuuri’s seduction free should have refined it to a razor sharp edge. Victor can't help but believe this is a million times better and headier, carnal and lustful as they rut together inelegantly in the confines of a single mattress.
He eases a hand into the space between their bodies, encompassing their passion in fumbling fingers as Yuuri surges against him. The press of the cocks together is enough for Victor to bow into it, thrusting against Yuuri mindlessly, skin dragging skin in painful pleasure. Yuuri is gasping into his mouth, stealing breaths between kisses. Victor pulls back to watch Yuuri losing himself in the sensation, one hand thrown over his eyes as he moves.
There’s a something beautiful in the way Yuuri is peeking through his fingers, watching Victor just as Victor is viewing him. He worries his lip for a second before he’s rising up, freeing himself of Victors grasp and leaving the bed in one move. Victor almost wants to call out, fingers still reaching after his lover. Yuuri only rustles through his luggage quickly, reclaiming his place on the bed armed with lube.
He hands it over with a hot look, Victor can feel on his skin.
This is real.
This is happening.
“Say it again.” Yuuri settles back onto the mattress, displaying himself with no hint of self-consciousness. Victor’s voice comes out hoarse.
“I- I want you, Yuuri.” It comes out hushed, a devotion, a prayer to the beautiful man waiting for him, “I love you.”
His heart is beating hard, breath stuttering in shock at the words having fallen from him so easily. He’s leaking out at the seams, every part of him exposed under Yuuri’s scrutiny.
“You love me.” Yuuri is looking at him with shining eyes, “You love me?”
“Yuuri how could I not?” It’s the most he’s spoken at once since their first kiss, but suddenly he needs to let it out, the leaks are turning into torrents of emotion. “You’re so stunning, and beautiful, and you . I never expected you. I couldn’t have prepared my heart for you crashing into it. I’ve been holding on for dear life since the first time I saw you-”
“Victor…” Yuuri is blushing, suddenly soft-eyed and smiling wryly. “You never said anything, you never told-”
“Neither did you!” Victor is smiling now too, “I had no idea this-” He waves a hand between the pair of them, Yuuri is propping himself up on elbows now, “would ever happen. As you said, I didn’t dare hope to be so lucky-”
“How can you say that? If anyone is the lucky one it’s me.” Yuuri pulls him down to him, kissing and nuzzling his neck, the lube is lost from Victor’s grip as he attempts not to crush the other man.
Yuuri’s hands are burning feverish trails, running over his torso, gripping the meat of his ass as he pulls them together again. Victor claims his lips, they’re open mouthed and sloppy, panting and groaning as their dicks align. Victor lets one hand fall to the blankets in an attempt to find the lube, to provide some slick slide for them, but Yuuri isn’t letting up. He grasps them together; those beautiful, elegant fingers fastening around their combined girths.
There’s something mindless and wanting pushing Victor into the contact, a greedy desire to take and keep taking from the beautiful man writing against him. It’s hot and needy and Yuuri seems just as lost to it as he is, all flashing eyes and hot breaths. Victor is leaking precome, he’s too hot all over and the heat is spreading out from his abdomen coursing through his veins as the pleasure mounts.
He’s is a shuddering, shivering mess. Yuuri is keeping up their momentum with twisting wrist and undulating hips, it’s all Victor can do to keep himself grounded in the touch as Yuuri works them over the edge.
Victor comes first, falling headfirst into the rushing of his climax as it paints Yuuri’s stomach and chest. He’s gasping as his spine curls into it, eyes falling shut as he’s overloaded with the sensation. He manages to catch the moment of Yuuri’s orgasm only through sound, Yuuri calling his name in a throaty groaning against his hairline. Then they’re catching their breaths, stilled in a perfect sillouhette, entwined all over and still reeling.
When Victor is finally recovered enough to pull back, its only far enough that he can take in his lover below him. When he tries to move away, he’s caught once again in Yuuri’s kisses. When he whispers his devotions to the man he loves, they’re reciprocated and mirrored back to him feverently. Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever realities are closing around them, they’re together.
This is real. This is happening. Victor’s mind supplies as he drifts into unconsciousness.
For the first time the words are unadorned with doubt.
This is real.
This is happening.
Victor’s heart soars.