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He’s not exactly sure when it started, but between Yuri’s arrival in Japan, and the mass of people suddenly signing on to use his rink, he’s been feeling off. It makes him feel even weirder because that means he was feeling normal before when it was just the two of them. That type of thing doesn’t happen that much anymore, and it feels like there’s a stone in his shoe, constantly bothering him the more he thinks about.
He can’t stop doing that now that he sees it, though. The early morning jogs aren’t so quiet and serene anymore with Yuri howling between them. The steady working out in the gym has more interruptions with people coming in to ask Victor to sign something. Even their practice at the rink makes him uneasy, people skating and watching. Seeing Victor, seeing him.
He runs off to Ice Castle rink more and blames it on practicing to perfect the sequence asked of him. It’s not completely untrue, but there’s more on his mind than just the moves. He drops in with the spare key Nishigori gave him and switches the lights on. He ducks into the small compartment for jackets and takes everything off until the bitter cold seeps past his skin, and he breathes his stress out.
Even though his anxiety was bad enough to wreck him a year ago, the ice freezes his nerves down. It quiets his head, too. All he can hear is the clack of his skates against solid brick, the sheer of ice slicing off, and his own breathing. He does a few warm ups on the ice, just moving and shaking the stiffness out of his limbs, becoming fluid under his practicing. He starts on the Eros sequence.
His arms follow the rhythm in his head and it’s routine enough that he doesn’t have to focus on it, really, after doing the same thing for days on end. The beginning’s easy, just a few things here and there tripping him up. He slides through the next moves remembering Victor’s hands on teaching, smoothing his arms up into the angle he’d wanted, correcting and praising him lowly in his ear. Yuuri turns into a spin, the memory of Victor’s hands on him fresh and vibrant, and it’s easy to slip into the next set.
He drops his knees and his center of gravity, trying to take a more casual approach, opening his posture and gliding across the ice. It reminds him of the last time Victor watched him skate alone like this, under these same lights in this same place, in this same space as him. The memory of it thrills him. To have those eyes on him, watching his every move, leaving him excited and anxious. It was when he was first here that that had last happened. It’s been hard to find time alone since then, and he viscerally misses it now.
Yuuri swings his legs to turn backwards, opening his legs up further, thinking over how many times Victor’s looked at him like that since everyone came in. He knows he doesn’t have a right to it, doesn’t hope for anything, but he still wants it. And he’s nothing if not an expert in wanting. He wants it all, everything he can possibly get, and the surprise at admitting that to himself makes him stumble in turning. He skates straight into the barriers and sinks down to catch his breath. He stares into the light fixture above him and abruptly wishes he woke Victor up for this, though he doesn’t know what that would’ve done for him.
In the way he is right now, he might take one of Victor’s jokes too seriously. He sighs and the breath hangs in the air in front of him. He shakes his legs out and stands, and finally notices the figure sitting on the bench outside the rink.
“Victor? What are you doing here?” He says, voice carrying over the empty area. He skates closer and Victor rises, walks up the barrier on his side. He isn’t sure what to make of the expression on Victor’s face, not exactly approachable with how focused he is on him, but something pulls him in anyways. “How long were you here?”
“I came to skate too and just saw you.” He waves to the bag on the bench. His eyes are dark and his fingertips white, pressed on the divider. Yuuri skates in, and its not Victor who comes in past personal space this time. He knows it, and from the way Victor’s eyes widen, he does too, but Yuuri can’t help himself. “You’ve been practicing the Eros sequence?” He asks, lip curling on one side.
Yuuri nods and shrugs, bracing himself for the criticism. “Did you...like it?”
“You need to practice more. I’m not feeling the sexual aggressiveness.” Victor says frankly. Yuuri nods and looks up from the spot on Victor’s nose. “You did better than last time I saw, though. Were you thinking of someone?” Victor purrs, leaning in. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and Yuuri can’t control the rush of heat in his gut. He nods and Victor tilts his head, assessing. “Who? Your ex? They’re not enough. You need to think about something more...intense.” He tugs Yuuri’s shirt hem closer, travelling up, skimming his torso up to his jaw. He can feel Victor’s breath hot in the cold rink, fanning the heat in his gut spreading all over his body, and it’s electrifying. There’s barely a space between them and Victor’s eyes are darker than he’s ever seen. Darker than when he’s done eating everything in sight, hotter than when he’s flirting with him in the hot springs, deeper than when he comes off the rink. His thumb drags up his chin, across his bottom lip, pulling it.
“Show me, then.” Yuuri breathes out, and it’s the last one he takes because Victor steals it out of him in a searing kiss. The hand on his chin surges up with the rest of Victor to cradle his head and pull him in, almost over the border, and Yuuri tries to hold on under all of it. His lips push at him firmly and he responds, softening and melting into Victor, but the kiss doesn’t let up. He opens his mouth at the touch of something warm along he seam of his lips, and Victor takes him in, completely. He loses himself in it, breaking only to breathe again.
Victor kisses him softly, sweeter pecks, leading him off the rink with a promise.