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Yuuri followed Niwa-san down the hallway. He owed her a favor, and she needed another skater from Team Japan to be able to say to her coach yes, they had seen her at a party last night, but no, they hadn't seen her drinking. He planned to pointedly not look at her for a few moments and then leave.

He had promised Phichit he'd try to go to at least one wild Olympic party, but as of yesterday his Olympics were over and he wasn't really in the mood. Seventh. He'd made it all the way to the 2014 Olympics, and then he'd let down everyone by only coming in seventh. He hadn't even made it into the top group to skate on the same ice as Victor. Japan had managed to win bronze in the team competition, so technically he wasn't going home empty-handed, but it felt hollow. He didn't actually deserve it, since it wasn't like he'd been much help there either.

"Ah!" Niwa-san said. "Here it is. Sofia told me there was a special knock." She lifted her hand and paused, looking at him. "You left your phone in your room, right?"

Yuuri sighed. "Yes. Like you reminded me to five times."

"Great!" Niwa-san knocked on the door in a rhythm, and a moment later it opened, letting them into a surprisingly small, quiet room. It held only two people, a table, and another door. Yuuri could feel the thumping of the bass nearby, but he couldn't really actually hear the music.

"English, French, or Russian?" a man sitting behind the table wearing a Team Canada jacket asked in English. He had stacks of papers in all three languages.

"English," Yuuri said, and Niwa-san echoed him.

The man smiled and handed them both a sheet of paper and a pen. Yuuri looked down at it. It appeared to be a legal disclaimer, though he had no idea what country it was from and he suspected it wasn't actually valid in any. Yuuri skimmed it and tried not to show his surprise. This was apparently an even wilder Olympic party than he'd been expecting. Still, he wasn't planning on staying long. He signed his name at the bottom, in both English and Japanese, and handed it back.

A woman in a Team Russia jacket, who must've been the one who opened the door, nodded at them. "I need to make sure you don't have cameras," she said, her English very heavily accented. "Please spread your arms and legs."

Yuuri submitted to the pat-down, feeling like he was in one of Mari's tv dramas. This was rather over-the-top for what he presumed was mostly just a lot of drunk, semi-naked athletes. He doubted anyone was even high, since it would be incredibly stupid to risk a random drug test at this stage.

"You two aren't stuck out here all night, are you?" Niwa-san asked as she spread for her own pat-down.

"Oh, no," the Canadian said. "We all signed up for half hour shifts. Just had to agree to still be sober for them."

"That could be just as bad," Yuuri muttered, and the Russian woman laughed. Then she opened the far door and waved them through. The music was loud, but not deafeningly so.

"Thanks for being my alibi, Katsuki! See you tomorrow to watch the short dance," Niwa-san said over the music, and then she vanished into the crowd on the dance floor.

The party seemed to be in a multi-room suite. There were more doors leading off, though Yuuri wasn't really inclined to explore. He'd seen Niwa-san at the party, and he hadn't seen her drinking. That was good enough. Still, as long as he was here, he might as well get just one drink for himself. And dancing might be fun. Just for a bit.

He looked around for the bar and headed towards it, and then fell to the ground as someone smacked into him.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, I… Yuuri!" Chris Giacometti held out his hand to help him up. "Yuuri, I am so glad to see you." Chris's eyes were wild, and his boyfriend, Luca, stood beside him looking a little sick. Luca was also definitely not dressed for this kind of party, and Yuuri knew he had to skate tomorrow, so he shouldn't even be here.

Yuuri frowned. "Are you two okay?"

Chris made a face and then shook his head, dragging him into a somewhat quieter corner. "Yuuri, could you do me a massive favor? I will owe you so much for this."

"That depends on what it is," Yuuri said, cautiously. The last favor he'd done for Chris had somehow devolved into them learning a pairs pole dance routine and ended with him having a drunken threesome with Chris and Luca. Twice.

Chris sighed in relief, like he'd already said yes. Yuuri cursed his past self for being such a pushover. "I promised I'd do something tonight, but I can't stay. Luca's father was just in an accident."

Yuuri's eyes widened. “Is he okay?"

"We think he will be, but we don't know yet." Chris's face was grim. "Apparently the prognosis is good, but Luca's sister says they've just wheeled him into surgery."

"Why are you still here? Go!" Yuuri said.

Chris chuckled humorlessly. "I really can't just abandon this promise."

Yuuri sighed in resignation. "What do you need me to do?"

Chris waved a hand at Luca, who smiled weakly back at them. "Follow me," he said, and led Yuuri to one of the side doors. There was a sign on it, but it was hard for him to read in the dim light. "This, ah, might be a bit awkward. I apologize in advance." Chris pushed the door open, and once they'd stepped inside and closed it behind them, Yuuri couldn't hear the music from the other room beyond the thump of the bass.

It was a small bedroom, but it seemed comparatively almost as full as the room outside, though there was only a handful of people in it - all men, from what Yuuri could see. And there, in the center of it all, was Victor Nikiforov, wearing nothing but his gold medal, on his hands and knees, getting fucked into the mattress.

Yuuri felt a shock go through him like lightning and his mouth felt suddenly dry. His feet felt nailed to the floor, and he didn't think he could look away if he tried.

"Victor!" Chris said. "I told you to wait until I got back.”

"I got impatient," Victor gasped out. The man fucking him pulled nearly all the way out and thrust back in hard, and Victor let out a breathy whine. Yuuri couldn't stop looking at the way his ass clung to the man's dick; the way Victor's own dick bobbed with the movement. Yuuri swallowed.

Chris sighed. "There's a reason you have someone looking after you when you do this, Victor." He shook his head. "He's first?"

"Second," said the man fucking into him.

"Victor, you…." Chris cut himself off. "I don't have time for this. Victor, there's been a family emergency. I can't stay."

Victor reached out and grabbed Chris's arm. Yuuri was absently very impressed by his balance. “Is everything okay?”

“Hopefully it will be, but don't worry about me. This is your night, Victor,” Chris said softly. “You've been waiting for this.”

Victor hung his head and whimpered as the man reached down to massage his balls. "Please, Chris. Please, I need it."

Yuuri was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. There was no way this was actually happening. He pinched himself. Nothing changed.

"Shh, baby," Chris said. "You know I'd stay if I could. But luckily I ran into Yuuri in the dance room, and he'll look after you, okay? You know Yuuri Katsuki, right?"

"What?" Yuuri squeaked. Chris ignored him.

Victor smiled weakly at him. "Vaguely?" He gasped and let go of Chris's arm, needing both arms to balance with another hard thrust. "Amazing musicality," he said and took a ragged breath, "and step sequences." He let out a low moan as he was rocked forward. "Better than mine." The man thrusting into him tensed and came, and Victor whined long and low as he pulled out.

Yuuri had never been so hard so fast in his entire life.

Chris smiled, though it looked strained, and brushed Victor's hair back with his hand. "I'm really not sure how you two haven't talked more. You'll get along fabulously. You both like dogs, romances, completely ridiculous footwork, kinky sex, and being moody and dramatic." He paused and then added thoughtfully, "Also, you're both nudist drunks."

"There are skaters who aren't dramatic?" Yuuri asked weakly. He didn't feel like he had the capacity to respond to this situation on a higher level at the moment.

Victor laughed breathlessly, and a man wearing a Team Australia jacket came up and pulled a condom out of a bowl.

"Could you hold on just a moment?" Chris asked.

The man laughed. "Sure, mate."

"You'll be fine," Chris said to Victor. "Yuuri's a sweetheart, and he's done this for Luca and me before - well, not this, exactly, but the skills should transfer. I trust him. I'm so sorry, but I have to go." He leaned down and kissed Victor on the forehead.

"Okay," Victor said softly.

Chris turned to Yuuri and said just loudly enough for him to hear, "He refuses to use hand signals, so try to keep his mouth free for check-ins - I usually don't let him give blowjobs. He's likely going to insist he wants to keep going no matter what, but remember he still has to skate an exhibition in a week and he has practice in the meantime, so try not to let things get too excessive. There are water bottles and clothes on the bedside table, and if you could see him back to his room afterwards, I'd really appreciate it. He was going to stay with us, but, well."

"You're making me feel like a babysitter," Yuuri said faintly.

Chris shrugged a little. "That's what I usually basically am when we do this, but you can play it differently if you want. You're toppier than I am and he likes it when people take charge." Chris leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for this, Yuuri. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here." He vanished out the door, closing it behind him.

"I don't remember ever actually agreeing to this," Yuuri said to no one. Some of the men in the room laughed.

"You don't have to," Victor said quietly, not looking at him.

The Australian man raised an eyebrow at him. Yuuri took a deep breath. Chris trusted him to do this. Victor seemed to need someone to do this. He could be this person, even if just for tonight. He could. There was just one question left to be asked.

Yuuri walked over and sat down on the side of the bed next to Victor's head. He lifted it up gently with a finger to look him in the eyes, and, for the first time in his life, spoke directly to Victor Nikiforov. "Do you want me to?"

Victor looked at him, his eyes seemingly searching Yuuri's face. His mouth fell open and his pupils seemed impossibly to get even wider in arousal than they already were. "Please, Yuuri. Please."

Yuuri smiled at him and ran his thumb over Victor's lower lip. Victor's tongue came out to touch it. Yuuri had no idea how his hand wasn't shaking, because if he thought about what he was doing for too long, he was going to lose it. "Then I will."

Yuuri looked at the Australian man over Victor's back and nodded at him. The man grinned, grabbed onto Victor's hips, and pushed in to the hilt with a single thrust. Victor keened and fell forward, his arms wrapping around Yuuri's waist. He buried his face in Yuuri's side.

"Whoa, hey," Yuuri said, tentatively running his hand down Victor's back. His skin was incredibly soft. Victor whimpered and nuzzled at his hip.

"God, he feels amazing," the Australian man said. He was going all out, fucking Victor hard, and though Yuuri had lost his previous view, this was just as good. Every thrust was making Victor cling tighter to him, and his fingers were gripping a bruise Yuuri had gotten falling out of his salchow the night before. Yuuri had a feeling it was going to be even darker after tonight, and he was definitely okay with that. It would be a reminder that this had actually happened.

"Please," Victor said. "Please, please, please." He continued in Russian, saying things that sounded like pleas mixed with profanity.

"Victor," Yuuri said quietly, still stroking his back, "I don't speak much Russian. If you want something, you'll have to ask for it in English or Japanese."

Victor looked up at him, not loosening his grip. His eyes were wet. "I need to come, I need. Please." He beamed up at him. "Kudasai?"

Yuuri laughed a little. They all learned the extreme basics of places they skated a lot, the bits that tended to work even when they weren't quite right. "Your accent is terrible."

Victor groaned and bit Yuuri's hip lightly through his pants. Yuuri's shaky calm faltered as he became abruptly aware of his own pressing need again.

He took a deep breath. This was for Victor. "You haven't come yet?" he asked.

"He hasn't," volunteered one of the other men in the room at the same time Victor shook his head desperately. "I'll give him a hand, though." He paused and looked directly at Yuuri. "If that's okay with you."

Yuuri looked down at Victor, and brushed his hand against his cheek. He raised his eyebrows in a question. Victor's eyes grew hooded, and he nodded a little, moving slightly to kiss Yuuri's palm. Yuuri felt it like a shock. Then Victor jerked forward and moaned as the Australian man pushed in for one final thrust and pulled out slowly.

"I think that's your cue," Yuuri told the volunteer.

He laughed. "Can we flip him over? I want to blow him." He had some kind of European accent, though Yuuri couldn't place it.

Yuuri didn't answer, just pressed slightly on Victor's shoulder. He whimpered, but let go of Yuuri's waist, rolling over on the bed. Yuuri didn't want to lose their connection, not when he'd just agreed to… whatever it was he'd agreed to, so he kicked his shoes off and swung his legs up on the bed to sit against the headboard, legs crossed. He manipulated Victor until his gold medal was perfectly centered on his chest again and his head was resting in Yuuri's lap.

Victor moaned at the slight contact with Yuuri's hard dick through his pants and turned his face to kiss Yuuri's inner thigh. Yuuri bit his lip and tried not to groan.

The volunteer grinned at him. "May I?"

"Please do," Yuuri said, staring at Victor's cock, which was so hard it looked painful. He wanted to taste it himself.

The volunteer laid down sideways on the bed and took Victor's cock in his hands, kissing it lightly. "You," he said cheerfully, "have a very pretty dick," and then took it into his mouth. Victor's mouth fell open with a silent gasp and his hands scrambled for purchase on the duvet.

Yuuri picked up Victor's right hand on impulse and laced the fingers of his left with it, laying them down under Victor's chin and giving him something to grip on to. Victor stared up at him, panting, his eyes wide, but he held on tight.

"I don't think he's going to last very long," Yuuri said. He looked down at Victor and said quietly, "He's right, though. You do have a very pretty dick." Yuuri had no idea what had come over him tonight. Victor's answering smile was almost shy.

The man lifted off. Victor whimpered. "That's okay, I just want to taste him."

Yuuri's own cock jumped a little at that and Victor smirked up at him, having obviously felt it. Yuuri self-consciously laughed a little, and used his right hand to softly flick him on the cheek. Then he moved his hand down, stroking over Victor's chest, and lightly twisted his nipple.

Victor wailed and came, bucking up into the man's mouth. Yuuri looked down at his hand in disbelief. The man choked a little, letting some of Victor's come fall out of his mouth and coat Victor's dick, but he swallowed most of it.

"Delicious," he said, when he finally pulled off.

"Are you going to fuck him now, Mikael?" someone else asked.

"I really want to come on his chest and get him dirty, if that's okay," Mikael confessed. "Someone else can fuck him." He looked at Yuuri.

Yuuri looked at Victor, who stared up at him, panting. But he didn't seem to hate the idea, so Yuuri nodded at Mikael, and he went up on his knees and started masturbating. A man with broad shoulders and dark hair walked up. Yuuri held up his hand for a moment.

"Do you want to keep going, Victor?" Yuuri was feeling more and more in control; more confident as things went on. He could keep doing this, for as long as Victor wanted him to. He knew he could.

Victor nodded and squeezed Yuuri's hand, though he buried his face in Yuuri's thigh.

"I need you to say it," Yuuri said. Chris had said check-ins, and Yuuri had no idea how many or how often Victor normally needed them. Normally. Fuck, how often did they do this?

"Please," Victor whispered.

Yuuri nodded and stroked his hand down Victor's cheek, feeling like he was reassuring both of them at once. Then he grabbed one of the pillows on the bed next to him and threw it to the man in the front of the line. "Put that under his hips, would you? He does still have to practice for his exhibition skate. We can't be too hard on him."

Victor put his free hand over his face and laughed silently.

The man nodded and slipped the pillow under Victor's hips right as Mikael came with a groan on Victor's chest, striping him and his medal with come. That was going to be awkward to wash off. Victor shook a little, and Yuuri squeezed his hand.

The man thrust in with little fanfare, and Victor closed his eyes with a happy sigh, wrapping his legs around the man's back. Yuuri looked down at his face in wonder. This was Victor Nikiforov. His idol was lying with his head in Yuuri's lap while he got fucked for at least the fourth time tonight, his hair a sweaty mess and his body covered in come. In all his idle fantasies, Yuuri had definitely never imagined this.

Yuuri wasn’t sure he'd ever imagined Victor being quite this human.

The man fucked Victor slowly and gently, barely moving him. Victor almost seemed to find it relaxing. Yuuri ran his fingers lightly over his face, brushing over his forehead, his closed eyes, his cheekbones, trying to learn with his fingers what his eyes had memorized years ago. Discovering tiny imperfections under his fingertips that just made Victor seem so much more real. So much more beautiful.

Yuuri ran his index finger gently over Victor's lips and they parted, sucking it inside. Victor opened his eyes and stared up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he worked his tongue around it. Yuuri was not going to come untouched in his pants like an inexperienced teenager. He wasn't. He took a deep breath and pulled his finger out, using it to lightly tap Victor on the nose. Victor grinned, and Yuuri's heart felt like it skipped a beat. Then Victor gasped and gripped tightly onto Yuuri's other hand.

Yuuri couldn't see what had changed, but whatever it was, Victor's erection was starting to return. Yuuri suspected that the man fucking him had found the perfect angle to hit Victor's prostate. Victor made a little noise with every thrust that was simultaneously adorable and the hottest thing Yuuri had ever heard.

The man gripped Victor's hips hard and thrust in one last time, coming with a low grunt. Victor whined as he pulled out, and Yuuri squeezed his hand. He really wanted to lean down and kiss his forehead, but somehow that felt like it would be stepping over a line he didn't know if he was allowed to cross.

"Okay, Victor?"

Victor nodded and smiled up at him. "Very okay."

"Good," Yuuri said, and tried not to show how much every movement of Victor's head was affecting his dick.

The next man, tall and with bright red hair, didn't take a condom out of the bowl, but picked up the lube and put some onto his fingers. "I am big," he said haltingly, obviously not confident in his English. "I need to… stretch?" Another man nodded at him. "I need to stretch him more."

Victor moaned, long and low.

"He's plenty stretched already," the Australian man said.

"I must be careful." The redhead worked his fingers into Victor slowly. Yuuri couldn't see them very well, but he could see and feel the effect they were having on Victor. The way his head was rolling in Yuuri's lap was an almost torturous caress of his dick. He shifted a little, and Victor kissed his inner thigh.

This was the most surreal night of Yuuri's life.

The redhead nodded to himself and pulled a condom out of his own pocket, apparently not trusting the ones in the bowl were the right size. He unzipped his pants and Yuuri's eyes widened. Wow. He wasn't unusually long, but he had one of the thickest dicks Yuuri had ever seen, and definitely the thickest he'd ever seen outside of porn. Someone else whistled.

Victor tensed and squeezed Yuuri's hand. Yuuri brushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead. "Shh, relax," Yuuri whispered. "Do you want to stop?"

Victor shook his head. "No," he replied, just as quietly, but his voice was firm and his eyes held only determination.

Yuuri smiled down at him, but he remembered what Chris had said, about how Victor would want to continue no matter what. Still, Victor seemed sincere, and by Yuuri's count almost all the men in the room had already had a turn. He should be loose and relaxed enough. It was going to be fine.

"Go slowly," Yuuri told the redhead.

He nodded and grabbed onto Victor's legs, guiding his knees up towards his chest. Then he thrust in just a little and stopped. Victor shook and his breath rattled. His erection was flagging.

"Is it too much?" Yuuri asked him, his voice low. Please don't let him have miscalculated. He didn't think he could handle that.

"I just need," Victor gasped out, "to get used to it." He swore quietly in Russian, and breathed in and out slowly. Then he nodded.

"Keep going," Yuuri directed.

"Jesus," another man said.

The redhead kept pushing forward slowly until he bottomed out. Then he pulled out and slammed back in.

Victor opened his mouth in a silent scream. His free hand came up and grabbed the back of Yuuri's neck, seemingly desperate for something to hold onto, his nails scratching him. Yuuri stroked his head, aware that his own hand wasn't as steady as he'd like. "Can you try and breathe through it?"

The redhead wasn't moving. Victor nodded and took a shaky breath, then a deeper, calmer one.

"Victor?" Yuuri asked. He rubbed his thumb over Victor's, trying to steady him. This could go very badly, very fast. And then Yuuri would never forgive himself.

"I'm fine," Victor croaked out, his hand still tightly gripping the back of Yuuri's neck. He let out a noise Yuuri could only describe as a giggle. "I'm amazing. Wow!"

The tension bled out the room. Yuuri let out a sigh of relief.

The Australian man laughed. "Looks like someone just hit an adrenaline high."

"Mmm," Victor agreed. His hand loosened a little on Yuuri's neck, but he didn't pull it down. His fingers played with Yuuri's hair.

Yuuri swallowed hard, his emotions all over the place. Victor beamed goofily up at him. Yuuri let out a breath and smiled back.

Yuuri looked up at the redhead. "Fuck him," he said, his mouth dry.

The man pulled back a little and thrust in again and again, rocking Victor up the bed. Victor's head brushed against Yuuri's dick with every thrust, a light, almost illusory contact that was getting harder and harder to ignore. Yuuri bit down a gasp. This wasn't about him.

The man did something with his hips, and Victor whined and pulled Yuuri's hair. The tug ran through him like a shock. Fuck, this night was going to be the only thing Yuuri masturbated to for the entire rest of his life. Nothing would ever top this.

Victor's dick was starting to fill out again, and Yuuri desperately wanted to touch it, to wrap his hand around it, to take it into his mouth and bring Victor to climax himself. He couldn't, not without moving, but he wanted it so much he could practically taste it. He reached out and touched what he could instead, running the fingers of his free hand lightly across Victor's chest. He swirled them around, sometimes brushing over Victor's nipples, though not concentrating on them. But every time he touched them, Victor jumped a little. Sometimes, he whimpered. It was incredibly satisfying, and made Yuuri feel more than a bit powerful.

The redhead thrust in one last time and grunted. Victor's hand tightened on Yuuri's neck and his mouth fell open as the redhead pulled out, but Victor didn't make a sound. Yuuri squeezed his hand lightly.

"God, he's gaping open," someone said in wonder. "You could probably fit two in there now."

Victor shut his eyes and his cheeks almost seemed to flush in embarrassment, but with as red as he already was, it was hard to tell. Yuuri looked down at him and thought about it, about how incredibly hot it would be to see, but realistically the redhead's dick had already been pushing it. And they hadn't actually talked about any of this. They hadn't talked at all, about anything. Yuuri had no idea what Victor's boundaries actually were. This whole night was completely crazy. But Yuuri couldn't think about that, because if he did, he was going to fall apart. And he couldn't do that, not now. Chris trusted him to take care of Victor, and Victor apparently trusted Chris enough to extend that trust to a stranger on his word alone. Yuuri was going to live up to that.

He looked up at the crowd. "I don't think that's the best idea tonight."

Someone sighed in disappointment, but no one argued with him. Victor squeezed his neck again, and rubbed his thumb against Yuuri's fingers. The light stroke of touch felt electric.

"I guess it's my turn then," a man said cheerfully in an American accent. His straight black hair was pulled into a low ponytail. Yuuri thought it made him look like he should be a snowboarder, even though he knew the athletes for the alpine events had their own smaller village closer to the mountains where they were probably off having their own wild parties. "We saved the best for last."

"Oh, fuck off," the Australian said. The other men laughed. Yuuri counted them and realized that oh, the snowboarder really was last. The other man he hadn't seen take a turn must've been first. He felt a pang. He didn't want this night to end. He didn't want to lose this weird connection with Victor.

"Isn't Katsuki taking a turn?" Mikael asked, and all the eyes in the room turned to him. Yuuri had somehow not even thought about that as a possibility. His brain shorted out.

"I want to blow him," Victor said staring up at Yuuri, his eyes bright. He turned his head and nuzzled Yuuri's inner thigh.

Yuuri swallowed hard. "That. That sounds good," he said, his voice coming out in a bit of a croak. He stroked his hand down Victor's cheek, and remembered Chris's blowjob rule. "But if you blow me, you're done for the night. Is that okay?"

Victor nodded into Yuuri's thigh. "Yes. Please, Yuuri. You smell so good."

Yuuri sucked in a loud, shaky breath. Victor's mouth twitched up.

The snowboarder grinned at Yuuri. "Well then. How about we flip him over and do him at the same time?"

Victor's breath caught and he squeezed Yuuri's neck tightly. Yuuri had no idea if that was a yes or a no.

"Victor?" he asked, his voice low.

"Please," Victor whispered, barely audible through the cloth of Yuuri's pants. Then he turned his head and looked straight into Yuuri's eyes. "Please, Yuuri."

Yuuri took in a deep, quiet breath, trying to steady himself. Victor wanted to suck his dick. Victor Nikiforov wanted to suck Yuuri's dick while he was getting fucked. He was back to being half-convinced he was dreaming. He stroked his thumb across Victor's, trying to ease his own nerves with the contact. "Then you're going to have to let go of my neck."

The snowboarder laughed and Victor let out a sigh, letting go with a slow caress. Yuuri's neck felt cold without the warmth of his hand, though it still tingled from the touch. He thought it might tingle forever. Just like he thought his hand might be forever marked.

Yuuri looked down at their laced together fingers and sighed, reluctantly letting go of Victor's hand. He missed the connection immediately. Victor made a noise of protest. "Shh," Yuuri said, running his finger down his cheek. "Come on, you have to roll over."

Victor grumbled a little and did so, carefully making sure the pillow was still under his hips and lying back down on his stomach, flipping his medal around his neck so that it lay on his back. He planted his face in Yuuri's lap and sighed, his breath distantly warm on Yuuri's dick.

Yuuri forced himself not to squirm, stroking his hand over Victor's hair. "Being on your hands and knees would be easier." He reached down and, unable to resist the urge, centered Victor's medal.

Victor shook his head. The movement was even more torturous with his mouth so close to Yuuri's dick. "Not enough energy. This is fine." Then he lifted up his head and moved his hands to Yuuri's fly to undo it. His hands slowly unbuttoned the top and then he ever so slowly pulled down the zipper, exposing Yuuri's black boxer briefs. Yuuri was having a hard time remembering to breathe. Then Victor stopped and frowned up at Yuuri. "You need to move so I can pull your pants down."

One of the men laughed, though Yuuri couldn't tear his eyes away from Victor long enough to see who it was. This was actually happening. Really and truly, actually happening. It was too oddly real not to be - his unconscious brain would've just made his pants disappear. He swallowed hard and got up on his knees. Victor pulled his pants down and then carefully pulled down his boxer briefs, his fingers brushing against Yuuri's rock hard dick as he did so. Yuuri's breath rattled.

Victor was staring at his dick, his eyes wide and hungry. Yuuri was fairly sure the only other time in his life that he'd ever felt quite this shaky had been a week ago, when he'd stepped out onto Olympic ice for the first time. Victor nuzzled close, his face bare millimeters from Yuuri's skin, his back at an incredibly awkward angle, and took a deep breath. "You smell amazing."

Then Victor awkwardly fell forward and caught his hand in Yuuri's pants. He untangled himself from the cloth and looked at his hand like it had personally betrayed him. The other men in the room started laughing.

Yuuri flushed and quickly moved back, pulling his pants and underwear off entirely and throwing them on the floor in record time. The snowboarder laughed harder. Yuuri had lived in America long enough to know the correct response to that, and flipped him off. He was not going to get embarrassed and over think this. Not now. He refused to.

He moved back onto the bed in front of Victor, settling into a modified seiza with his feet underneath him but his knees spread wide. He probably looked ridiculously obscene, but that seemed like it would be the most comfortable position for both him and Victor. He didn't want Victor to strain himself.

Victor was quietly laughing into his hand, his eyes closed but crinkling. He opened them as Yuuri settled back down, and his mouth fell open. "Oh," he said in a whisper that Yuuri barely heard, "you blush everywhere. It's so pretty." Yuuri felt himself flush even more, and Victor smiled and grabbed his left hand, lacing their fingers back together and resting them on Yuuri's knee. "Can I? Please?"

Yuuri felt like they were in a world of their own, like the rest of the men watching them had ceased to exist. It was just him and Victor, begging for his cock. He moved his hand to Victor's head, guiding it to his dick. Victor looked up at him, his eyes wide. "Suck me," Yuuri said, his voice oddly steady.

"You can pull my hair," Victor said and leaned in, engulfing Yuuri in wet heat. Yuuri gripped the back of his head and took in a shaky breath.

The laughter of the other men trailed off. The snowboarder grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up, then spread Victor's legs apart and positioned himself, pushing in to the hilt with a single thrust.

Victor made a noise around Yuuri's dick and his hand squeezed Yuuri's tightly as he moved forward with the thrust, taking in more of Yuuri's cock. The vibrations from the noise made Yuuri whimper. Victor's other hand came up to rest at the base of Yuuri's cock, each touch of his fingers rushing through him.

"He's so loose," the snowboarder said. "I could do this all day. He was made for this."

Victor made a pleased-sounding hum, and Yuuri let out a gasp. It seemed to go straight to the heart of him.

"Fuck," someone said, "that's so hot. I wish I could have another go."

Victor was doing something amazing with his tongue, and Yuuri could barely think. His world had narrowed down to Victor's hand and his mouth, moving back and forth with every thrust. Just heat and moisture and Victor. Only Victor.

"Come on his back," Mikael suggested, and Yuuri reflexively pulled Victor's hair in his surprise and arousal.

Victor let out a whine around his dick. Yuuri looked down at him and their eyes met, and fuck, forget everything else tonight, this was this the hottest thing he had ever seen - Victor staring up at him, his mouth wrapped around Yuuri's cock. Victor nodded almost imperceptibly and Yuuri looked up at the others. "Go ahead," he said shakily, and swore as the next thrust pushed even more of his cock into Victor's mouth.

"Don't mind if I do," the first man said, climbing up onto the bed and kneeling by Victor's left side. The Australian man did the same on the right. They both began to masturbate.

The snowboarder started fucking Victor harder, and the movements of his head quickened. Yuuri swore and squeezed Victor's hand. He didn't feel like he was going to last much longer, but he was going to make himself. His stamina wasn't going to fail him now.

The first man apparently had a hair trigger and came, painting Victor's back with his come. Victor whimpered, and looked up at Yuuri. His eyes were wet, and, fuck, that was apparently a kink Yuuri hadn't known he had. He couldn't resist and took his hand off the back of Victor's head to wipe at his tears with his thumb.

Victor looked at him, eyes wide, then did something with his back to change the angle of his throat and, in one move, took Yuuri down and down until his nose was pressed against Yuuri's skin.

Yuuri swore and put his hand back on Victor's head, though without any pressure. He squeezed Victor's hand tightly. Victor squeezed back.

"Oh, fuck me," said the Australian, coming all over Victor's back. Yuuri was pretty sure he saw some of it get into Victor's hair.

The snowboarder thrust in fast and hard, pushing Victor further forward. Victor pulled his head back with a gasp. Yuuri panted and stroked his head.

Victor nuzzled his cheek against Yuuri's hand and took a deep breath, then took Yuuri back in his mouth, moving to deep throat him again. He was still almost crying, and he was drooling a little. Yuuri wanted to remember this for the rest of his life.

"You feel so amazing," Yuuri said, fairly sure he wasn't speaking English. "And you're so beautiful. Your mouth and your eyes and your hair, Victor, your hair." He felt a familiar tightening in his gut and reflexively tried to push Victor's head off. "Victor!"

Victor looked up at him, eyes dark, not moving, and Yuuri came down his throat.

Victor pulled off, coughing, some of Yuuri's come falling out of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Yuuri said weakly, reaching out to wipe it away. "I'm so sorry, I.…"

The snowboarder made one last thrust, coming with a loud yell and pushing Victor's face into Yuuri's hand. Yuuri couldn't look away from it if he tried.

The snowboarder pulled out and slapped Victor's ass. "Good game, Nikiforov."

Yuuri and Victor stared at each other in disbelief and burst out laughing. Yuuri mentally revised "snowboarder" to "probably a hockey player".

"What?" the probably-actually-a-hockey-player asked.

"Just get dressed, Parksy," Mikael said with a sigh.

The men started filtering out of the room, most tapping and saying something to Victor as they left. Every time the door opened the music filtered in like a shock, and Yuuri wondered how many people on the dance floor were looking over in curiosity, and what they saw when they did. If they liked it.

The last man left, and Victor was still lying down on the bed, gripping Yuuri's hand. Yuuri stroked his head and narrowed his eyes, looking at Victor's hips. They were slowly moving, rubbing against the bed.

Oh. Victor was still hard. Yuuri flushed in embarrassment. He was clearly terrible at this.

He rubbed his thumb against Victor's and let go of his hand. Victor whimpered.

Yuuri ran his hand down Victor's shoulder, then moved and kept running it Victor's side until he reached his hip. "Victor, roll over and let me take care of that for you."

Victor muttered something in Russian and rolled over, revealing his dick standing proud, red and flushed. Right at that moment, Yuuri thought it was one of the prettiest things he'd ever seen. He reached out and took it in his hand. It was hard, warm, and perfect.

"Yuuri," Victor said, his voice hoarse and loud in the now oddly quiet room, "please."

Yuuri grinned up at him and did an experimental stroke. The movement was smooth and easy, and Victor groaned, long and low. Yuuri did a second stroke and then a third, unable to tear his eyes away from Victor's face, from his reactions as Yuuri touched him. He wanted to imprint this on his memory forever.

Yuuri took a deep breath. "Do you want me to blow you?" He bit his lip and quietly admitted, "I've been thinking about it since Chris opened the door."

Victor swore loudly and came across his chest.

Yuuri stared at him in amazement and stroked him through it, rubbing his thumb over the top of Victor's dick and bringing it to his mouth. He just wanted to taste him. Just once. He'd probably never have another chance. He sucked it off, guiltily savoring the salty tang.

"Yuuri," Victor said with a groan.

Yuuri ducked his head and flushed. He got up and walked over to the nightstand, grabbing one of the bottles of water.

"So," Victor said awkwardly behind him, "you like dogs?"

Yuuri laughed and turned around to look at him. Victor was sprawled out naked on the bed, covered in sweat and come. He looked debauched. He looked exhausted. He looked amazing. "I love dogs. If my phone wasn't in my room I'd show you all the pictures my family sent of Vi..., er, of my puppy to cheer me on." He smiled at the thought. "My sister put a little flag in his collar saying 'Ganbatte!'" He paused. "Oh, that means 'good luck'. Roughly."

Victor turned his head and smiled tiredly. "I actually knew that one! That sounds adorable. You'll have to show it to me later. I'll pay you back in the pictures my rinkmate has been sending me all week of my Makkachin playing with her cats."

Yuuri smiled back. "I'd like that." Later. Victor expected there to be a later. Well, of course there would be a later, they'd probably talk awkwardly in the halls of competitions now and get dragged into weird situations with Chris together sometimes. He opened the water and walked back to the bed. "Can you sit up?"

"Mmm, let's try." Victor pushed himself up with a groan, and turned to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. "I'd rather just roll over and go to sleep, but Chris only reserved the room for an hour."

Yuuri blinked. Chris hadn't mentioned that part. "How much time do we have?"

Victor shrugged. "He said someone would knock on the door when we had five minutes left."

That hadn't happened yet, so they were fine. Had it really been so little time? It felt like it had been hours. Days. He felt like he'd never be the same again. He handed Victor the water. "Drink this, please."

Victor took it and blinked at it, as if a bit confused as to what it was. He smiled a little shyly and put it to his mouth.

Yuuri turned and hunted for his boxer briefs, picking them up and putting them on. He followed them with his pants and his shoes, then grabbed the folded up team Russia tracksuit that was sitting on the table. There was no underwear.

Victor sighed behind him.

Yuuri turned around. "What?"

Victor shook his head and smiled, the water half empty in his hand. "I was just admiring the view. Your ass is… exquisite."

Yuuri felt like he was doing nothing but blush today. "All skaters have nice asses," he protested.

"True," Victor conceded, "but believe me, I have seen many skating asses, and yours is in a league of its own."

Yuuri stared down at the pile of clothes in his hands, feeling like his face was on fire. "Thank you," he mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

Victor laughed. "Isn't bad?"

Yuuri wanted to bury his face in the clothes and never look anyone in the face again. "Oh, like you don't know you're the most beautiful man in skating."

Victor's mouth twisted. "I usually get called 'striking', which I think is their way of saying 'slightly odd looking, but in a good way'. My mouth is too big and my forehead is too high, and it's likely only going to get higher."

Yuuri stared at him, dropping the clothes on the floor in shock. He grabbed Victor's face between his hands. Victor stared at him, eyes wide. "Victor, no, you. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I've thought that since I was twelve, I." He stopped and dropped his hands, embarrassed, and crouched down to pick up the clothes, not looking at Victor. "Let's, um. Let's get you dressed."

"Yuuri," Victor said breathlessly, "you.…"

Yuuri continued staring at the floor. Victor's hand came out and his fingers ran through Yuuri's hair. It made his scalp feel like it was the only part of his body that mattered.

Yuuri placed the jacket on the bed without looking, and unfolded the pants and scrunched them up. He took a deep breath and let it out, letting the feeling of Victor's hand in his hair soothe him. "Lift up your right leg, please."

"What?" Victor's hand stilled. "...oh," he said softly, and his leg came up.

Yuuri carefully put the right leg of the pants around it, guiding Victor's foot back to the floor. "And your left." He repeated the process on the other side, and lifted the pants to Victor's knees, letting his hands linger a little on Victor's soft skin and strong leg muscles, slightly damp with sweat. He finally looked up at Victor's face, who was looking at him with what looked like wonder on his face. Yuuri couldn't think about it. "Stand for me, Victor."

Victor's mouth dropped open slightly and he stood, his eyes bright. Yuuri carefully lifted the pants as he too stood up, making sure not to catch Victor's dick, up and over his round ass. Victor stared at him, his breath quickening.

Yuuri grabbed the jacket. He felt both shaky and heady, but he didn't know else to take care of Victor right now. This was what he had to do. "Hold out your arms, please."

Victor took an unsteady breath and did so. Yuuri put the jacket on him, one arm and then the other. He centered Victor's dirtied medal on his chest, then put the two sides of the jacket together and slowly zipped it up, hiding the mess on Victor's skin. Victor watched him the whole time, his eyes wide.

Yuuri ran his hands down the jacket to straighten it out and then stepped back and let out a breath. Victor shook himself, as if waking from a dream. This was... Yuuri didn't know what this was.

Victor stepped forward and stopped, making a face. "Oh, that's going to be interesting."

Yuuri couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Feeling it a little?"

"Yakov is going to kill me. I have no idea how I'm going to walk all the way back to my room, let alone skate."

Yuuri bit his lip. "It wasn't too much, was it? I know that redhead was pushing it."

Victor grabbed his hand. "No, Yuuri, no. It was exactly what I needed. Thank you."

Yuuri squeezed his hand and nodded. "Okay. Good, I'm glad I could… help you."

"Me too," Victor said, his face flushing.

Yuuri felt like he was permanently red. He squeezed Victor's hand again and let go with a sigh. "I guess we should get you back to your room." He thought of something. "Wait, is there anyone in your room?"

Victor blinked at him. "I don't think so? Georgi is probably staying with the new love of his life, if she hasn't dumped him yet."

Yuuri couldn't believe he was about to suggest this. "Would you like to stay with me tonight, instead? You don't have to! I just don't want you to be alone."

Victor's eyes softened. "Yuuri, I'll be fine. I'm used to being alone. And what about your roommate, wouldn't they mind?"

Yuuri shook his head. "Ikeda's wife and daughter flew in for the free skate. He's staying with them in their hotel."

"Is he okay?" Victor asked. "That was a nasty fall."

Yuuri sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand. That had been incredibly hard to watch. All of Ikeda's medal hopes, gone in an instant from an awkward fall he hadn't been able to recover from. Yuuri was just selfishly glad he'd skated before him and hadn't had to deal with the pressure of being Japan's only hope. "He aggravated his right knee again. He was already thinking about this maybe being his last season, but now even Worlds are in question."

Victor closed his eyes. "Knees. They get us all in the end." He let out a breath and looked at the ceiling. "He's one of the only serious medal contenders left on the circuit older than I am. Damn."

They stood together in silence. Yuuri couldn't stop thinking about the look on Ikeda's face afterwards, how he'd only held himself together until his wife came and found him, and about little Aya-chan clinging to him and finally making him smile.

"You really wouldn't mind?" Victor asked after a long moment.

"Mind?"

"If I stayed with you tonight," Victor said softly.

"Victor," Yuuri said, honest and slightly terrified, "I would really love it if you did." He didn't want this night to end. He didn't want Victor to be alone, but he also just really didn't want to watch Victor walk into his room, shut his door behind him, and then have to walk alone to his own knowing he'd just spend the night wallowing in second guessing himself and freaking out.

"Then, yes, please." Victor's smile was almost shy. "I'd really like that."

Yuuri couldn't stop himself from smiling back.

Victor walked towards the wall and slipped on his shoes, picked up a small bag Yuuri hadn't even noticed, and slung it over his back. Then he ducked his head and reached for Yuuri's hand. "You'll have to lead the way."

Yuuri laced their fingers together and squeezed his hand. He opened the door, and the sudden music was loud and piercing. What had been a dance party now seemed to almost be more of a rhythmic orgy, and he was fairly sure that was Niwa-san against the wall, holding another woman's head beneath her skirt. Well, he still hadn't seen her drinking.

He walked past it all, Victor's hand in his, warm and shockingly real, and they left the party behind them.