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Yuri didn’t really know why he was awake. The coldness of the metal railing cut into his arms as he leaned on the balcony, gazing out at the dimly-lit city below him. His head, for once, wasn’t running away from him – even the sound of cars passing through the streets wasn’t too much in this moment of stolen solitude.
There had been several days of parties and celebrations since the end of the Grand Prix Finals – this time around, Yuri remembered most of the banquet (though it didn’t stop a second round of pole dancing happening) and it was safe to say that this one was a lot more enjoyable than the last one. Being second place felt significantly better, and actually being able to talk to Victor, let alone having a tangible relationship with him, made him feel even happier when laughing with his friends and coach.
They were still in Barcelona: Victor wanted to stay a little longer to do more sightseeing and take a small break between the end of the final and getting back into training for any upcoming competitions. Yuri couldn’t protest; he too was begging for a couple of days of nothing, needing his nervous brain to slow down, and he really wanted to have some time with Victor, not as his coach, but as his –
Yuri sighed, looking down at his clasped hands, the gold band around his finger glinting dully in the dark. They were not friends, that much was obvious, but even after all this time, he still didn’t really know what their relationship was, despite the casual touches, natural affection, and stolen kisses that had taken place since they had met and had only increased tenfold since that fateful kiss after his free skate in China. It was like a dream come true, a typical love story panning out and he got to be the main character – but it didn’t half give him a headache.
The lights distorted in front of him, his poor eyesight making the warm colours blur together; Yuri’s forehead came to rest on his hands, exhaling deeply, trying to empty his head.
“Only you would be thinking so loudly this late.”
The low voice startled Yuri, though he didn’t jump nor turn around. As he expected, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, warmth blossoming pleasantly from the touch.
Victor came to stand next to him, his hair pushed back, and eyes lidded but bright. He didn’t look at Yuri straightaway, instead gazing into the night alongside him. Though a chill nipped through the winter air, he seemed unbothered, even though he only bore thin sleep shorts and no shirt.
He turned to look at Yuri, smiling lightly. “Why aren’t you sleeping? I missed you.”
Yuri looked up and felt himself blush, his cheeks heating up slightly. “It was too quiet in there – there’s a lot on my mind.”
Victor hummed, fingers tracing circles into his arm. His left hand came over Yuri’s, the matching rings making a small noise when they touched. “Still working overtime, huh?”
Yuri sighed. “Something like that.”
The two didn’t say anything for a while, settling into a comfortable silence. Yuri let his head rest on Victor’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as a calm passed through him, his mind thankfully starting to settle down. Even though Victor had, though mostly indirectly, caused his head a lot of stress, now everything was starting to slow, he found the older man a massive source of comfort whenever he felt himself start to run away.
There wasn’t anything more grounding than Victor – his idol, his coach, his friend, boyfriend, fiancé, soulmate – whatever he was. To Yuri, it didn’t matter.
He looked up at Victor again, who was thankfully close enough to not appear blurry to him. The marks of the bedsheets were still visible on his cheek, small creases imprinted in his skin, his face flushed in the cold – the abnormal vulnerable nature he was omitting made Yuri’s chest swell with affection, his finger automatically reaching out to touch him.
Victor turned at the contact, his gaze now fixating on him. His eyes widened slightly as Yuri leaned forward to kiss him, his quiet gasp muffled. Yuri almost smirked against his mouth, silently delighted at how he could still surprise Victor with the smallest of gestures.
The kiss was brief – Yuri pulled away, his eyelashes fluttering at he peered up at Victor, his mouth drying slightly at the sight of Victor’s soft smile and dilated eyes. A thumb touched his lower lip, carefully pulling it down.
“You’re so cold,” Victor murmured. “Come to bed with me.”
Yuri swivelled in Victor’s arms, both hands now coming around his neck, bringing his face right up close to his. “One more minute,” he whispered, lips brushing Victor’s, revelling in the blush that dusted his cheeks, the pretty pink contrasting with his pale skin.
They held each other in the cold, warming each other with their touches and kisses. Yuri had wanted to be chaste, nerves and anxiety still arising whenever he thought about his inexperience, but Victor had been so kind and patient that his confidence had grown gradually, allowing himself to be more languid and appreciative. There was so much Yuri wanted to express, in a way that words would not allow, and more often than not, he sought to physical affection to speak for him when he himself could not find the words. Reaching for Victor’s hand during the banquet when he didn’t quite know how to receive praise for his success. Pushing Victor’s hair away from his eyes so he could see all of his face when he was marvelling at Yurio’s free skate. Kissing Victor’s ring in the middle of the ice rink when they finished their pair skate performance.
Even now, when they were alone and they had forever stretched out in front of them, Yuri knew his words were there, but he needed time to articulate just how much he revered the gorgeous man holding him. And he would tell him some day – but for now, all he needed was to hold him.
This time, it was Victor who pulled away, chuckling lowly. “As amazing as this is, I am starting to freeze. Let’s go inside.”
Yuri nodded, feeling a little breathless. He clung to Victor as they walked through the balcony doors, shutting the glass behind them. The room was completely dark, the city illuminating through the curtains. The two men clambered onto the two beds that had been pushed together, crawling under the thin blankets and settling onto the mattress.
Their hands stayed interlocked, both laying on their sides facing each other. Victor stayed propped up on one elbow, his palm pressed against his face, looking down at the younger man gazing at him.
“What have you been thinking about?” he asked, squeezing Yuri’s hand gently.
Yuri blinked, trying to adjust his sight to focus on the outline of Victor’s dimly lit face. “Whatever is coming next, mostly,” he replied.
Victor smiled sympathetically. “You worrying about me flaking out on you?”
“Not – not exactly.”
“Because you’ve already tried that on me so I’m still mulling it over.”
Yuri groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I said I was sorry about that!”
A chuckle rumbled out of Victor, who went to run his fingers through Yuri’s hair. “I’ll never forget that – how dare you do that to my poor old heart?”
Yuri made another noise of discomfort, rolling over on his front. “Victor, I’m sorry! And you’re not old!”
Victor kept laughing quietly, his nails now raking down his neck, sending shivers down Yuri’s spine. “I think about what’s coming next too – and you want to know something?”
Yuri turned his head, looking up at the man whose gaze was almost blinding. Apprehension twisted in his stomach, despite the sure smile on Victor’s face. “What?”
Victor leaned down, his lips coming to brush against Yuri’s ear. “I know everything is going to be fine, as long as I’m with you,” he whispered.
Heat erupted and spread throughout his body, warming his fingertips and toes, and he knew his face was now completely red, though there was, for once, no embarrassment and anxiety coursing through his veins.
Victor. Who else would be his constant through all of this? Who else had coached him through his season, had choreographed for him, had supported him and made him the skater he was now? He was not perfect, but to Yuri he was everything he had needed, and he didn’t even know it. And in that moment, Yuri decided he would never let Victor forget it.
He rolled back over and grabbed onto his arms, pulling Victor down on top of him. The man barely had time to make a noise of surprise because Yuri was kissing him again, kissing his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, jaw. Victor’s fingers came to clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he settled atop the man, trying to match his passion, all the while smiling and giggling at Yuri’s burst of enthusiasm.
“I never want this to end,” Yuri gasped out against Victor’s neck, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, clinging to him like a child. “I never want this to end – I want you, Victor.”
Victor put his elbows on either side of Yuri’s head, raising his head so he could look at his love properly. His eyes shimmered, as if he were close to tears. “I won’t allow it,” he said urgently. “My Yuri – I will be yours forever, if you will do me the honour to be mine.”
Yuri nodded vigorously, the butterflies erupting in his chest and stomach as he pulled himself closer to Victor again, basking in his love and warmth.
He didn’t need to know what Victor was to him. He didn’t even need a name.
Victor was his and that was all he needed – there was no word that would make him surer of that fact.