The Drunken Deal

Chapter Twelve

Yuuri was still feeling a little lightheaded as he stood by the ice, watching Michele Crispino's program. He'd missed the ending of Emil's and hadn't heard the score, but he really couldn't find it in himself to care. It might have simply made him more nervous to know, and there were much more important things to think about. He'd missed the beginning of Mickey's skate, too, but could already tell what the story was about. Michele was able to portray it well. The story suited him, too. The brave knight. No doubt protecting his sister from the world. As he landed a triple lutz, triple loop combination, he moved his warms as though he were fighting off a hoard of monsters.

He moved into a step sequence, but Yuuri found himself distracted as he felt Viktor's presence beside him. He would be on the ice soon. He'd promised to show Viktor all the passion he'd been hiding within himself, but could he really do that? Yuuri wasn't even sure what it was he was hiding. He didn't know what Viktor had seen in him, it was something he was still trying to make sense of. Still, he'd promised. There was no way Yuuri could let Viktor down.

Mickey's step sequence came to an end much sooner than Yuuri was expecting. Or maybe he'd just been distracted, he wasn't sure. He watched as Michele took his bows, stepping off the ice and heading towards the kiss and cry. It was a good performance, though the level of difficulty in the jumps was lower than most of the other skaters. Yuuri glanced over at Viktor, taking a shaky breath to steady himself. It was like he could still feel Viktor's hands on him, his lips still tingled from that kiss. If it wasn't for where they were and just how important this was, he'd drag the Russian away, have him all to himself. But he couldn't. All he could do was skate. Maybe that was why Viktor had done it. He'd been worked up. The passion was at the forefront of his mind, the thoughts of being with Viktor, being close to him, being his. It would be all he could think about on the ice.

"Michele Crispino has earned in the short program... 89.65. He is currently in second place."

Yuuri was already waiting on the ice by Viktor's side as they announced Mickey's score. It wasn't awful, but it was certainly the kind of score you'd want to improve upon so late in the Grand Prix Circuit. Still, the free skate was yet to come. Time would tell, and Mickey did seem to have the skills to make it through. Yuuri watched as Viktor waved at the crowd. They seemed so excited to see him. Of course. It made sense when he really thought about it. This was Russia, Viktor's home country. The adoring fans would be everywhere. Still, Yuuri wasn't willing to share Viktor's attention. Not today. Without thinking, he gripped Viktor's tie, tugging him close and speaking softly, "Eyes on me. Remember?"

Viktor smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Upon hearing the announcement that he was next, Yuuri reluctantly dragged himself away from Viktor's side, making his way to the centre of the ice. As the music started, it was as though Yuuri's body moved on instinct, glancing to Viktor, making sure he was watching. The good thing about this program was that he'd skated it so many times by now that he really didn't have to think about the steps. It was all muscle memory at this point. It meant he didn't find himself lost in the program and forgetting about artistry. Today, he could think about Viktor. He could think about the request he'd made. Viktor wanted to see his passion, and Yuuri hadn't been sure of exactly how to project that. Then again, a lot had changed over the last week, and maybe that was really what he'd been needing.

As Yuuri worked his way through the step sequence, his thoughts were filled with Viktor. While before, it had been about his need to keep Viktor around, this was different. He couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities he now had with Viktor, about the feel of their bodies pressed close together. For so long it hadn't been something he'd even considered before, but now it was his reality. Viktor was his, and he couldn't wait to tell the world. It was all he could do not to shout from the rooftops that Viktor Nikiforov belonged to him, that he deserved him, and that nothing could take this from him now. His mind was filled with thoughts of Viktor's touch, the way he'd held him close; so dominating, yet filled with care and love. Yuuri was putty in Viktor's hands, but he wanted to make the Russian feel the same way. He wanted to make him weak at the knees, wanted to be able to leave him speechless.