A.N. I have no idea if it's supposed to be 'Yuuri' or 'Yuri" or if it's supposed to be 'Viktor' or 'Victor' so I just used the Russian spelling of Viktor and Yuuri because that's what was on the fandom Wiki? Anyways, I hope you enjoy my little debut into the YOI fanfiction family, hopefully everyone is in character. None of my work is ever beta'd and I read it through like twice and call that 'editing' so feel free to comment and tell me my spelling and grammar suck.

"It's not a gold medal, but…" Yuuri began as he stepped off the ice, his silver medal held out in front of him for Viktor to see.

Viktor smiled at him and Yuuri couldn't help but remember back to when Viktor had first come to Hatsetsu and had scolded him for his weight with that same smile. It was far too wide and condescending to be genuine.

"I don't feel like kissing it unless it's gold. Man, I really wanted to kiss Yuuri's gold medal."

Yuuri stepped back, the surprise evident on his face. After his last season, a silver medal at the Grand Prix Final was more than anyone could have hoped for.

"I'm such a failure as a coach," Viktor continued as he walked towards Yuuri who stepped backwards to try and maintain the distance between them but soon found himself pinned between the wall of the rink and Viktor's body.

"Yuuri, do you have any suggestions? Something that would excite me?" At this point Yuuri was bent over backwards almost completely and he's grateful for all his years of ballet. Viktor's face was pensive, his right index finger tapped against his bottom lip and the light glinted off of his good-luck-charm-turned-engagement ring.

Yuuri knew exactly what would excite Viktor. In his mind, it plays out perfectly; he would reach up and grab the lapels of Viktor's tan coat and pull his down into a kiss that would curl his toes. It would be even better than the kiss in China because the love between them has grown so much in such a short period of time.

Yuuri did not, however, kiss Viktor because they are in public and it's not something either of them needs splashed across the front cover of the tabloids in the morning. It must show on his face though because suddenly Viktor's voice dropped an octave and is so soft and seductive Yuuri feels it in the bottom of his stomach.

"What did you think just now?" Viktor asked.

"Oh, um…well…" Yuuri stammered even though he's fairly certain that Viktor knew exactly what he was thinking.

What followed was heartwarming in a completely different way and even though the return of Viktor Nikiforov to competitive figure skating is all anyone can talk about at the banquet, Yuuri's mind is fixated on the feel of Viktor's body pressed up against him. It hadn't been the first time, of course, Viktor got clingy when he was drunk and sometimes in his sleep but this had been…different.

A good part of the banquet is also spent teasing Yuuri whenever he's seen holding a champagne glass. It's good-natured teasing but it still annoys Yuuri a bit. It makes Viktor laugh though, so Yuuri can't stay annoyed for too long because seeing Viktor's head thrown back in laughter makes Yuuri's heart flutter.

They get back to the hotel room well after midnight, which isn't the best plan because they need to checkout before 9 AM and they're both going to be hungover. It's the last night in Barcelona and Yuuri is proud that he'll be able to remember most of it for years to come.

They're both giggling like idiots and stumbling down the hall. Viktor is much more drunk than Yuuri is this year – courtesy of Chris – and his words are coming out mostly in Russian. Even though Yuuri can't understand all of what Viktor is saying, the sound of Viktor's voice is enough to keep him captivated.

"Yuuri, you never answered my question!" Viktor whines petulantly after they're inside the hotel room.

Yuuri quirks an eyebrow. "What question?" He asks.

There's a commotion and the sounds of things hitting the floor before Viktor finally speaks again. "I asked you what you were thinking earlier and you," Viktor points across the room at Yuuri, "avoided the question."

"Because you were teasing me!" Yuuri replies hotly as he struggles to untie the knots on his dress shoes.

"You wanted to kiss me."

Yuuri freezes for a second and when he looks up from his shoes Viktor is right in front of him, jacket and vest removed with his dress shirt half unbuttoned. There's a predatory gleam in his eyes that Yuuri has come to know quite well and suddenly his mouth is dry.

"V-Viktor…" Yuuri can feels the blush on his ears and he's not sure if the cause is the alcohol in his system of Viktor's proximity.

"Well Yuuri," Viktor begins as he leans further into Yuuri's personal space. "Am I right? Is that what you were thinking?"

Yuuri swallows thickly and opens his mouth to speak but can't seem to find the words. Viktor's eyes are slightly clouded by the alcohol and lack of sleep but they're alluring all the same. He's never told Viktor, but Yuuri always thought that Viktor's eyes were the colour of ice. Not the fake ice that they have in the skating rinks but the ice that occurs when oceans freeze over. Once, many years ago part of the Hatsetsu ocean froze because it was so cold, and Yuuri is reminded of that winter whenever he looks into Viktor's eyes.

Even though he hadn't planned on taking the lead, Yuuri is still surprised when Viktor meets him halfway for a kiss that's mostly teeth and tastes like champagne. Emboldened in equal parts by the alcohol and the silver medal in his suitcase Yuuri deepens the kiss, a hand reaching up and twisting into the hair at the back of Viktor's neck.

The next time he comes up for air he's on his back on the bed under Viktor with no recollection of having moved across the room. He's lying horizontally across the beds that are pushed together and can the divot where the too beds meets. It's slightly uncomfortable against the small of his back but his mind is focused on other things. The only sound in the room other than Yuuri's panting is Viktor's panting and Yuuri's notices smugly that Viktor's face is flushed now too.

"Yuu-"

Whatever Viktor was about to say is cut off by Yuuri's lips. Yuuri doesn't want to hear what Viktor has to say because he's a little afraid that Viktor is going to be the voice of reason for once and make them stop. Yuuri doesn't want to stop, he wants to drown in Viktor's kisses and the feel of Viktor's body pressed against his own and the smell of Viktor's cologne. He wants to peel Viktor's shirt off and kiss every inch of his chest.

He wonders absently if Viktor's nipples are sensitive. If he would moan if Yuuri teased them with his mouth and fingers.

The front of his dress pants are tight across his crotch, his erection is painful and when Yuuri's hips buck of their own accord he realizes that Viktor is just as undone as he is. Viktor's head drops to rest in the juncture where Yuuri's shoulder meets his neck and his moan is throaty and breathless as he grinds against Yuuri.

God, they're not even undressed yet.

"Yuuri" Viktor's voice has taken a desperate edge as he grips Yuuri's jaw tightly with one hand, forcing the younger man to meet his stare. There's still a haze in his eyes but now there's also a passion that makes Yuuri shiver.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop – we should stop. The alcohol and the events of the past couple days…you need to be sure but I don't want to pressure you into anything I could never live with myself if-"

Yuuri cuts off Viktor's babbling with another kiss. There's no doubting that Viktor Nikiforov is a confident man but it's clear that he's not above rambling when nervous. The rational part of Yuuri's mind – which has been quietened significantly by alcohol – agrees with Viktor that they should stop.

The irrational part is his mind, however, disagrees.

Summoning what little control he has left, Yurri sweeps his arm out in front of him, effectively rolling Viktor off of him and onto his back next to Yuuri. In the silence of the next few moments Yuuri listens to their combined deescalating panting and can't help but feel a small pang of uncertainty creep up on him. What if Viktor doesn't want him when they're sober? What if they wake up in the morning and Viktor laughs at the prospect of sex with Yuuri?

His thoughts are interrupted as Viktor rolls over and curls into him, his arm thrown across Yuuri's abdomen and their legs tangled together. Viktor's head rests against his and Yuuri's can feel Viktor's breath against his skin.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet, Yuuri." Viktor slurs as he lightly outlines the bulge at the front of Yuuri's dress pants. Although no longer seconds away from orgasm, the feel of Viktor's fingers against his erection, even separated through layers of clothes, has Yuuri's eyes rolling back and moaning softly.

"Jus' wait 'til morning." Viktor's words are becoming more incoherent as he speaks and it's not until soft snores fill his ears that Yuuri realizes that the slurring wasn't only from the alcohol. Neither of them are completely undressed and they're still lying across the beds the wrong way but Yuuri finds himself easing quickly into sleep, the effects of alcohol and the wearing off of adrenaline overpowering his sex drive.

Just before he gives himself over to sleep Yuuri feels a small thrill go through his body and his smile is unconscious.

Until morning, then.