I found this challenge on Pinterest quite a while ago and I've been planning it for a very long time. So I'm excited!

Warnings: Victor being drunk and sexy and lewd.

Enjoy!

Yuuri isn't remotely used to nightlife. He's sued to quiet, still nights wandering the streets until ten or sitting up by the light of his cellphone and listening to the wind and his parents closing up the onsen for the night.

Barcelona is a different story. There's no stillness when he opens the curtains. Cars zoom past underneath the balcony, colorful against what's left of the sunset. His breath fogs and he shivers, tucking his toes into the blanket.

He's perched on the hotel balcony in a little plastic chair with only a thin wool blanket to battle the cold.

Yuuri is homesick. He's been homesick before, in Detroit, traveling to skating competitions, but it's been lesser and lesser the more he's travelled with Victor. So now, sitting alone on this loud balcony is Spain, his lungs burning from the cold, it feels so much more wholesome than he can ever remember it being.

The balcony door slides open loudly, squeaking on badly oiled sliders, and closes again. Victor plops himself down in the other plastic chair and props his chin on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

Yuuri shakes his head.

"How about we go somewhere?"

"Victor, it's late," Yuuri protests weakly, rationally.

"Let's go somewhere, Yuuri." Victor's head disappears and he shoots up suddenly. "Get dressed! The best cure for homesickness is getting drunk, Yuuri!"

"Victor, I-!" Yuuri's blanket is torn over his head and vanishes inside with Victor.

Evidently, when Victor said that getting drunk is the best cure for homesickness, he meant that trying and failing to hail a taxi at midnight in Spain with an attractive, lewd, drunk Russian skating legend hanging to your arm is a good way to forget about being homesick.

Victor knew enough Spanish to get them to the taxi driver's recommendation of a local bar, but Yuuri knows nothing. Nothing. And Victor spent most of his foreign currency on drinks.

Defeated, Yuuri gives in to Victor's admittedly seductive Russian murmuring and his lack of Spanish cultural knowledge and just starts walking.

"Yooori," Victor has looped one arm around his waist and the other around his neck, handicapping his walking. He threads his fingers through the strand of hair on the nape of Yuuri's neck. "Yooori I'm cooooooold."

"Really?" Yuuri gazes up at a badly lot street sign, trying to make sense of the characters. "Because just a couple hours ago, you were on the hotel balcony in your pajamas."

"I woooosn't cold zen, Yuuri." His drunkenly thickened accent is making it hard for Yuuri to swallow. "Warm me up, Yoooori."

"Put your jacket on."

"Noooooo. Zen I can't hold Yooooori like ziiiiiiis."

"Victor, what does that say?" Yuuri points to the street sign.

"Dunnoooo." Victor licks a hot trail up the shell of Yuuri's ear.

"Victor, quit licking me!" He yelps shrilly. "We're lost, you know!"

"I'm never lost when I'm wiv Yoooori." Victor nuzzles his nose into the corner between Yuuri's earlobe and jaw and sighs against his skin.

"I'm serious Victor, what does this say?"

"Yuuri doesn't like sweet talk?" Victor murmurs lowly, tongue darting out daringly. "Maybe dirty talk instead, hmmm?"

"N- No!" Yuuri stammers. "V- Victor, please just help me here."

"I vill help Yoori eef he vill help me too." Victor hums.

"Victor," Yuuri groans. "Please just help me."

A taxi screeches to a halt by the curb and a trio of girls get out. Yuuri quickly hauls Victor over, and, in English, the closest one he knows to Spanish, tries to explain to the taxi driver where he wants to go.

"Sooooo," Victor hums, resting his head against Yuuri's arm in the quiet back of the taxi cab. It smells of smoke and worn leather. Yuuri is torn between watching the city lights whiz past the window and watching Victor's eyelashes flutter drunkenly.

"Yes, Victor?"

"Iz Yooori still homesick?"

"No," Yuuri says truthfully. "Anywhere is home with you, Victor."

Yuuri doesn't even realize he said that out loud until Victor throws himself over his student. The resulting yelling is so loud that the cab driver glares at them in the rear view mirror and starts blasting ear-splittingly loud Spanish hip hop.