Dashing through the snow~~~~ jingle bells!
Dashing through the snow, until we got quite lost!
Yuuri slowly guides Viktor along the ledge, which fortunately is just wide enough that they can move side-by-side, Viktor holding onto Yuuri’s hand with a brittle, bracing smile on his face.
They eventually do come back to something like an incline, though there are trees peppered throughout, blocking their path. Viktor pales at that, though Yuuri looks down further ahead and sees a chimney of smoke through the lowest set of trees. “I think we might have come around to the other side of the slope,” he says. “The chalet’s probably in that direction.”
“How did we get that off course?” demands Viktor, but he’s grinning. Yuuri shrugs, handing Viktor his poles.
“Would you think I’m weird if I told you that tree skiing is actually something I’m more comfortable with?” he asks. “Mari and I used to race through forests all the time when we went skiing.”
Viktor gapes at him. “Do you just eat danger for breakfast, Yuuri Katsuki?” he demands.
“It’s a lot more interesting than a regular piste, okay,” Yuuri retorts. “Just don’t look at the trees as you go down, and you’ll be fine.”
“Don’t look at the -- Yuuri, love of my life, light of my being, there’s nothing but trees down there.”
“Yes, but if you look at them, it makes your body turn towards them. Look at the spaces between the trees instead. Keep your hands up to avoid branches and narrow your stance.”
“Yuuri, if we get out of these trees alive because of you, I’m going to tie myself to the bed and never let you leave.”
Yuuri feels his entire body warming up at that suggestion. “Wouldn’t you need to have your hands and legs free to do that?”
“You’d leave me when I’m tied to the bed at your mercy?”
“Point,” Yuuri concedes. “Okay, just try to follow me down, all right?” He moves to push off from their ledge, but Viktor’s hands dart out to grab him, pulling him back for what is probably the most ungainly kiss of their lives, even less graceful than the first one they shared at the Cup of China last year.
“You’re not going to die,” Yuuri says, patting his shoulder. “You’re not a coward, after all.”
And with that, he pushes off into the tree-lined slope, with the chalet and Viktor’s gobsmacked expression in mind as he zooms off through the snow-capped pines.
send me ‘jingle bells’ for a ficlet
