Victor can’t wait for Yuuri to get home | Chapter 6 - Russian Tea Time Excerpt
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If the day before had been slow, the hours before the arrival of Yuuri's flight moved like lead. He found himself and Makkachin at the airport an hour before he had planned. He pretended to window shop at all the stores that weren't even open yet and settled in a cafe with a disgusting cappuccino he didn't want.
After the 57th time he checked his phone, he could finally leave the cafe and make his way to the arrivals door with Makkachin. When they got there, Victor fidgeted, petting Makkachin a little too roughly and perking up at every person who came through the automatic doors only to be let down when he realized it wasn't who he was waiting for.
When the doors slid open once again after a half hour of waiting, he almost didn’t look up.
He was glad he did.
There he was running towards Victor with his luggage dragging haphazardly behind him. Unkempt hair hidden beneath a beanie, baggy sweats that clashed with his coat, and the most gentle smile Victor had ever seen. His heart swelled up bigger than his chest could manage.
Needless to say, they both ended up on the floor in an embrace, with Makkachin doing her best to pile on top of them.
The only cosmetic product recommended by Victor that Yuuri used off the ice was a luxury lip balm. Victor could taste it on Yuuri's lush lips as he kissed his fiancé on the ground, completely ignoring the censuring looks from some of the older people waiting in the crowd of the airport. He wanted to bury himself in Yuuri’s arms and not move for at least a year. It wasn’t until a polite member of the airport staff came by that the two stood up, brushed themselves off and made their way to the parking lot.
They didn't say much on the way home. Victor was content to listen to Yuuri's gentle breathing, his light humming as he fiddled with the radio, his occasional questions to Makkachin as to whether she had done a good job taking care of Victor in his stead. It was all music to him.
“Victor…”
“Hmm?”
“Eyes on the road,” he scolded, playful, but earnest.
Victor had been stealing as many glances as possible the whole drive. It wasn’t his fault that Yuuri’s matted bangs fell so gracefully over his glasses, or that Yuuri’s cheeks were still pink from the cold walk between the airport and the parking lot. He desperately wanted to take his right hand off the wheel and hold Yuuri’s, but after a few close-calls earlier that year, Yuuri had made a rule - no hand-holding in the car.
When they finally made it home and took off their coats, they settled on the couch for a quick cuddle before preparing lunch. They lay horizontally with Victor resting his head on the arm of the couch and Yuuri’s head against his chest. Suddenly the apartment felt more like home than it had in the last week.
They had a lazy conversation about the competitions. Who did well, who didn’t. How mad Yuri had been that Victor was retiring. How Minami had fussed over Yuuri and his gold medal. How promising the new skaters on the horizon were.
Suddenly Yuuri perked up.
“Ah! I need to show you something.”
Yuuri got up as Victor audibly whined and protested at the loss of his fiancé’s warmth in his arms.
“I’ll be right back, I promise!” Yuuri laughed, running to his suitcase. He returned with an oversized book in hand. He had Victor sit up, plopped down on the couch next to him, and handed the book over to Victor.
“It’s your birthday present,” he said, blushing just a bit. “Sorry it’s late...I still had to finish it and wanted to give it to you in person.”
Victor felt a twinge of excitement as he opened it. The first page was filled with newspaper clippings and photos from his junior debut. Next to photos of him at major competitions, Yuuri had written notes detailing his memories of watching that particular performance, how it had inspired him to attempt new jumps and turns. As he flipped further through the pages, he realized the album followed his entire career and included mentions of him from every major website, newspaper, and magazine. As he reached his advancement into the senior levels, however, the subject matter changed slightly. Intermingling with reports of his own career were reports of Yuuri’s. There were a few spots about his junior debut, and mentions of his results in competition. He turned more and more pages, realizing that the album was a timeline of both of their careers.
Each clip was neatly cut, laminated and attached. The order had been carefully thought out and arranged to fit the logic of what Yuuri had written, sometimes pairing reports of their results when Yuuri had been particularly inspired by Victor that year and attempted to emulate certain elements of Victor’s past performances.
“Yuuri…this is perfect.”
Victor felt so full, it almost hurt to breathe. The thoughtfulness of it all was more than he even remotely deserved.
“You've…been part of my life for a long time. I just wanted you to know how thankful I am for that. And now that I get to be a part of your life,” he said, turning the page to a newsclip of Victor announcing he'd become Yuuri's coach. “I'm just… I'm really happy.”
Victor put the album on the coffee table so he could take Yuuri into his arms again. He hugged him tightly, wanting to somehow reflect the squeezing of his own heart. He kissed Yuuri on the forehead, but it wasn't enough. He showered more rapidfire kisses all over Yuuri's face, making him wrinkle his nose and giggle.
So beautiful.
He started laying more serious kisses across Yuuri's cheek, making his way to his fiancé’s lips. They were so, so soft. He sucked on the lower lip and appreciated the fleshy plumpness and sweetness of it. When he released it, he admired the raw, redness he left behind before kissing down Yuuri's neck and sucking down little love bites.
"Victor...ahhh..." Yuuri moaned. "I...I haven't even showered yet. I smell like airplane." "Mm-mmm," Victor shook his head into the nape of his lover's neck. "You smell like Yuuri."
“That's-ahhhhh, Vitya!” Victor had just bitten and sucked down hard. That one would probably leave a mark.
Yuuri pushed onto Victor’s shoulders, forcing him to release his neck and look his lover in the eye. Yuuri seemed somewhat exasperated, his eyebrows knitted and his face a deep shade of pink. He put his hands on Victor’s cheeks and squished, deepening the pout.
“You don’t think I’m disgusting? I haven’t showered in over a day!” Victor took one of Yuuri’s hands off his cheeks and put it near his mouth. He started sucking on the index and middle fingers, his tongue dancing along the length of them. He looked straight into his lover's eyes as his teeth bit down teasingly. Yuuri's lips were lazily parted, as if he had meant to say something else but realized it didn't matter. He inhaled sharply as Victor continued caressing his fingers with his tongue. "Bedroom?" he finally said, breathless.
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NSFW warning
