Yuuri had been feeling restless all day. He’d woken up with his skin crawling and his hands shaking after a dream he could barely remember. Something with heat, skin against his, a rough voice mumbling words that slipped his awareness just so each time he tried to recall them.
To make things worse, Viktor hadn’t even been there. No sleep-warm body to groggily paw at or grind against, no soft hair to bury his face into. Instead a simple note on a vacant pillow: Got up early, meet me at the rink.
So Yuuri had, fought his way out of bed thinking that maybe a good few hours of training were all he needed to set his mind straight, to stop that pressing, powerful need from overwhelming him.
It hadn’t worked. Not so far, at least, and they’d been at it for hours. If anything the sweat drenching his skin, the fluid ease in which his warm muscles moved, Viktor’s voice calling out for him over the crisp stillness of the ice … all of that just made it worse.
By the time his coach called for another break the soft command to meet him at the edge of the rink was enough to send hot shivers down Yuuri’s spine. His legs complied, starting to carry him across the ice before his mind could even give permission. Maybe because it was too occupied remembering what that voice sounded giving all kinds of other commands, making other requests, begging him for more or to stop.
“…not getting sick, are you, Yuuri?” He perked up at the sound of his name, roughly pulled from all the wonderfully filthy fantasies his mind had been spinning.
“What?”
“I just said”, Viktor started, brows furrowing with impatience but eyes clear and attentive as they flitted across the planes of Yuuri’s flushed face. “You seem distracted today. Are you getting sick?” Yuuri bit his lower lip to keep from chuckling, noting the way Viktor’s gaze dropped to observe the movement, pale lashes fluttering beautifully.
“I’m fine”, he not quite lied, searching out his coach’s eyes. He was fine, perfectly healthy, strong, balanced. If only his mind could stop wandering. “Is it affecting my performance?”
Viktor frowned, raising one elegant finger to tap against his lips.
“Not much, your transitions are still sloppy, we know that. But I can tell. What’s on your mind? Anything I can help with?”
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