"Victor! Victor, we can't-"

The Russian just silenced Yuuri with a demanding kiss, pushing the cubicle door open behind him. "Yes, we can."

Victor's hands were rough as they shoved against Yuuri's chest, backing him forcefully into the cubicle of the locker room bathroom.

As soon as they touched him though, his slender fingers tangled themselves greedily in the delicate material of Yuuri's costume. He could feel the thin fabric strain around his unrelenting fingers, but he wasn't willing to ease his hold on his fiancee for the sake of one stupid outfit. It was his costume anyway. And now that Yuuri had finally won the coveted gold Grand Prix medal at last, he would hardly be needing it again.

His firm grip forced Yuuri back, smothering the length of his lover's body with his own. There was no escape now, Yuuri's back pressed firmly against the wall of the cubicle. Victor honed in on his fiancee.

Yuuri had put everything into that final Eros performance and by the time his arms had finally crossed in his finale, Victor had barely been able to hold himself back behind the barrier with desire. It had been everything he had ever dreamed of. He'd created the physical embodiment of lust in his fiancee and now it was his undoing. He clasped Yuuri's face in his hands, moulding their mouths together in a desperate clash of tongue and teeth.

"No, Victor, please…."

Victor's breaths were shaky with need as his hands fumbled with Yuuri's zipper, swallowing his feeble protests with hasty kisses.

Yuuri's wide eyes lingered on the door over Victor's shoulder, trying to catch his breath under the Russian's passionate onslaught. They couldn't do this here, not in the bathroom of the locker rooms! They hadn't even locked the door. Not here, Yuuri willed silently in his head, not now. How long would they even have before they were interrupted? As soon as the interviews and congratulations concluded, all the athletes wondering around the stadium above them were all going to come to one place eventually - the locker room. How long would that be? Ten - maybe twenty minutes at most?

His teeth came crashing down on his lip to muffle his moan though as Victor's mouth trailed hot wet kisses down the length of his throat, driving the thoughts from his head. His palm pressed against Yuuri's groin, stroking his desire through his tight black briefs.

Victor was beyond caring about the implications by now though, feeling Yuuri's desire press against his thigh. He'd watched Yuuri seduce an entire stadium of people out there tonight and he needed his fill of the skaters real Eros before the world came crashing down again.

A pink blush already kissed Yuuri's cheeks by the time Victor's mouth sucked a bruise into the base of his neck, his fingers twisting in the back of Victor's suit jacket. Before he realised it, he was tugging it off him, relishing the sensation as nothing more than a thin white button up shirt held the Russian's bare body back from him.

Still, he was torn.

Victor knew from experience though that as soon as they emerged from the locker room, they would be sucked up in a whirlwind of attention. Endless pictures and interviews awaited them in the corridors of the stadium, crawling with reporters, and after that he only dared imagine how many parties they would be invited to. Yuuri would dance and drink the night away in celebration, lucky if they saw their beds again before the sun rose the next morning.

The tightness in Victor's underwear wouldn't wait that long though. He needed Yuuri now, even if it was rushed and messy.

Victor was slowly shredding Yuuri of his self control, helpless under his fiancee's skilled touch. He knew exactly what to do to destroy him, to have him whimpering in the Russian's hands like a teenager all over again. It was humiliating and the single most erotic thing Yuuri had ever experienced in his life, never failing to send his heart on a wild, runaway ride inside his ribcage. He was just too much for him sometimes; too alluring; too attractive; too damn irresistible for Yuuri to ever be able to turn away. It was a heady feeling knowing that all that perfection was reserved for him, and him alone.

He couldn't wait until it was his officially though, bound in law. The idea of a wedding had been floating around in Yuuri's mind ever since he'd slid that gold ring onto Victor's finger in front of the Spanish cathedral, but it made his mind spin to think that idea was actually going to become a reality at last. Victor was going to be his officially. Would Victor take his name, he wondered, or would it be the other way around? The idea of becoming a Nikiforov, branding himself as Victor's for the whole world to know, sent thrilling chills down Yuuri's spine.

His hands pressed against Victor's chest but there was no fight left in them as he felt his will start to cave, a slave to the heat steadily pooling in his groin. His hips rolled into Victor's palm of their own accord, his body already knowing what it wanted.

The molten passion running through Yuuri's veins was almost too much for him to bear, still pounding from donning his temptress personna. She was the one who had allured the stadium into giving him a gold medal and that same vixen was what had reduced Victor to this quivering mess of need in the bathroom. It was exhilarating, seeing the Russian so desperate for him, so entranced by his performance. Seducing Victor was always his aim, but he had never imagined that his routine would have such a profound impact on his coach and fiancee until Victor had grappled him lustful into the bathroom.

His Eros did that, Yuuri suddenly realised with a hitching breath as Victor's fingers stroked sensually up the young skaters length. Not the temptress, not the gold medal - just him, craving Victor.

With that heady thought, Yuuri's resistance cracked clean in two.

Victor gasped in his mouth as Yuuri suddenly looped an arm around the back of his shoulders and turned them, pinning his coach back against the wall with a solid thud. His impatient lips swallowed his fiancees guttural groan of surrender.

Yuuri didn't dare stop to think as his hand found the top of Victor's shoulder and pushed, Victor sliding down his body compliantly. His well fitting suit tugged at him in protest. Yuuri's fingers threaded through his silver locks as he dropped to his knees, bracing his forearm against the wall breathlessly. Victor tugged Yuuri's trousers and briefs down around his thighs in one swift pull.

The lustful swirl dancing in his eyes was irresistible and Yuuri groaned hard as he glanced down. A potent arousal stirred in Yuuri at the intoxicating sight of the Russian on his knees Why did he have to be so perfect? Yuuri felt like he was losing his mind, but even with his ruffled locks and flushed cheeks, Victor still looked absolutely breathtaking.

Yuuri's fingers curled in the Russian's hair as his mouth closed over his tip and sucked, biting his lip to hold back his groan of pleasure.

Usually, it was Victor that finished first over the line, but Yuuri had a feeling he would be giving him a run for his money at this rate. He was enjoying himself way too much.

His fingers twisted in the hair at the nape of Victor's neck, pulling him in closer. Yuuri couldn't help himself grinding into Victor's mouth, a slave to the Russian's relentless ministrations; even more so when Victor's fingers closed firmly around the base of his length and tugged in rhythm with his bobbing head.

Yuuri knew he couldn't last long like this, feeling his passion swell inside him uncontrollably. As Victor's molten blue orbs snapped up at him from between his thighs though, he realised that was exactly what his fiancee wanted. He felt himself steel even harder inside Victor's mouth at the thought - a deep suck right into the Russian's throat rewarded him.

"Victor…"

His hooded eyes linked with Victor's and the Russian froze, reading his mind. It passed between them like a lightning bolt.

Yuuri had never been good at saying what he wanted aloud. Even when he had proposed, he hadn't been able to say the exact words, as romantic and gentle as they would have been. Something as raw as 'fuck me' was light-years away for Yuuri.

But it was right there in his eyes, gleaming at Victor. Pleading it, even. It made Victor's mouth run dry with desire.

He scrambled to his feet in the blink of an eye, too desperate to think about being sexy. His lips tangled with Yuuri's while two pairs of hands attacked the Russian's trousers, shoving them hastily down his hips. As soon as his belt clattered to the floor, Victor's strong hands clung to Yuuri. He grabbed everywhere he could - Yuuri's strong shoulders, the sensual curve of his hips, and the lean muscles toning his stomach - it was all deliciously delectable to touch, even through the thin fabric of the skating costume.

Patience waning though, Victor ducked nimbly under his fiancee's arm. Before Yuuri could draw another breath, he felt Victor's hard length press against his backside.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Yuuri tried to control the rampant beat of his traitorous heart. The quiet roar of the crowd above them reminded him just how exposed they really were, but he could hardly find the will to care about getting caught anymore. He really was helpless when it came to Victor, willing to do absolutely anything to satisfy the untamable Russian. It was nothing short of thrilling, the ripple of danger igniting Yuuri's blood like wildfire.

Victor spat in his hand and ran it quickly over his length. It wasn't glamorous, but it would have to do; neither of them had exactly come prepared for this moment.

They didn't regret a thing though, both of them knowing that there was no going back to the real world until they had absolutely ravished each other. Anything softer than that would have to wait until later, after the animalistic urges had all been sated.

Victor's fingers threaded through Yuuri's against the wall as he slowly slid inside him, tearing a vulnerable whine from the young skaters lips. It was the most beautiful thing Victor had ever heard. Yuuri's fingers clenched tightly around his , but he didn't stop until he was fully seated inside his fiancee, his hips flush against Yuuri's backside.

His forehead dropped down to Yuuri's shoulder, sucking in a ragged breath. This was where he wanted to be, he thought breathlessly, rolling his hips forward and revelling as Yuuri gasped in response. This was where he found his bliss.

Yuuri's head fell back in ecstasy as Victor moved inside him, building a strong, steady rhythm. Deliberate fingers pulled his hips back in time with Victor's thrusts, claiming his body resolutely with every thudding heartbeat hammering at his ribcage. Tilting his head, Yuuri's cheek nuzzled affectionately against Victor's. His hooded, sultry eyes just melted the Russian.

The locker room door suddenly clattered loudly. "Hey, old man! You in here?"

Victor's hand smothered quickly over Yuuri's mouth as the Russian voice rang out, both of them freezing in a heartbeat. Yurio.

Yuuri's eyes shot wide with panic , his worst fears suddenly materialising around him. Staring ahead at the dull grey cubicle wall, he felt the adrenalin instantly flood through his system, igniting every cell in his body to prepare to flee. It wasn't a reasonable option though - Victor's tense body and strong arms were a force Yuuri couldn't fight against, pinning him in place. He stayed absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe.

Soft footfalls ventured slowly into the locker room and Yuuri tried to picture exactly what lay between them and the young Russian. Not much, was his pitiful conclusion.

The locker section was a large and open square shaped room, with a short corridor leading up from the changing area to the showers that lined the back walls. Bathroom cubicles framed the corridor on one side, while the sinks and dryers ran along the other.

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut, a shuddering breath sighing through Victor's fingers. Was this it? Was Yurio about to make Yuuri's nightmare come true? Getting caught was definitely not worth the 'I-told-you-so' to Victor. Yuuri could just imagine it; Yurio taking just a few more curious steps from the lockers to the shower section, glimpsing Victor's jacket crumpled on the floor under the raised cubicle door, bending to pick it up and -

The footsteps stopped abruptly. "Hello?"

Go back, Yuuri willed in his head desperately. He wasn't sure how he would ever be able to face the fifteen year old again if he took just a few more steps and discovered them.

Behind him, he felt Victor's body tense as hard as iron but Yuuri could feel he wasn't nearly as terrified as he was. Victor never panicked though, even in the unthinkable situations. He was more shameless than Yuuri, just so confident in his own body and sexuality. The first time he'd come to coach Yuuri, he'd introduced himself stark naked after all! He was not ashamed. Yuuri had a feeling that even Victor would be a little subdued though if Yurio caught him balls deep in his fiancee in a public locker room.

As mortifying as it was though, Yuuri couldn't deny the way his cock swelled at the exhilaration. He wasn't the only one thrilled, Victor still as stiff as steel inside him.

After what felt like a lifetime though, Yurio finally let out an irritated huff.

Yuuri slumped in Victor's arms in relief as he listened to Yurio's steps suddenly do a U-turn, but the Russian still didn't move a muscle behind him. Instead, he listened intently to the unmistakable softening of the young skaters footsteps, not daring to drop his guard until the door thudded firmly shut and echoed throughout the locker room.

As soon as silence fell again, Victor flexed his hips without warning. A soft mewl rumble gently against his fingers in response.

It was all the encouragement Victor needed to suddenly pull back from his fiancee as if nothing had ever happened, driving home in one brutal thrust. Something primal snarled in pleasure as Yuuri cried out beneath him.

There was definitely no more time for screwing around, he decided firmly. If the runner up was escaping the lime-light to check the locker rooms, it was only a matter of time before the others came too.

They needed to finish, and they needed to do it now.

Victor struggled to hold back his moans as he let his lust drive him, hammering himself home inside his lover. Yuuri pushed back hard against the cubicle wall to keep him from crashing into it under his fiancees relentless thrusts, clinging to Victor's fingers at his hips for dear life. It had never felt like this before; never so urgent, so absolutely primal. There was nothing sane in Victor's animalistic thrusts, his hips bucking slightly as he started to lose control.

Heat swirled in the Russian's gut and he knew he didn't have long, Yuuri's body hugging his manhood all too welcomingly for him to be able to resist. He chased down his release with abandon, fingers leaving Yuuri's hip to trace the firm line of muscle down to his groin. As soon they closed around Yuuri's member and he felt him swell in his grasp, Victor's knees went weak.

His thrusts were erratic with need as he jerked Yuuri in his hand, determined to bring him to the same lustful peak. The shuddering breaths from beneath him told him he was succeeding.

Yuuri reached across to Victor's cheek and pulled him in for a clumsy kiss, groaning urgently into his mouth. He wasn't sure what he needed more - to push back against Victor's impaling length or thrust forward into his caressing palm. Both had him nearly drooling with desire. He could already feel how intense his release would be, every inch of him wound up tight in anticipation.

Victor's hips powered into Yuuri, nothing else mattering in that moment but the way his body gripped him desperately. He hadn't thought it would be like this when he'd dragged Yuuri by the hand away from the ice rink. They had never been so brutal with each other, both selfishly hunting down their own desire. It was so raw, so primal, and Victor didn't think it could get any better as he crushed Yuuri back against his chest, feeling heartbeat thud from his lovers ribcage. He did that, Victor thought feeling the heat swirl in his gut, he did that to Yuuri.

Only it did get better, when Victor thrust somewhere inside Yuuri that had the skater seeing stars, gasping into the Russian's mouth.

It was his undoing.

Victor's mouth fell open in a vulnerable whine as he tumbled over the crest of passion, Yuuri tearing his soul from him mercilessly. He clung to his fiancee like he would disappear if he let go. Shuddering violently at the orgasm ripping through him, Victor jerked into Yuuri selfishly, his only instinct to prolong the bliss washing over him.

He guessed Yuuri was enjoying it too though as he suddenly pulsed in Victor's hand, and a wetness ran over his fingers.

Finally, Victor stilled.

For a moment, he just caught his breath, feeling his mind start to float back down to his body again and his member start to soften inside his lover. He wasn't quite ready to move just yet though, savouring the way Yuuri's body cradled him delicately.

Yuuri leaned over his shoulder and brushed his lips against Victor's in a tenderness so out of place considering what they'd just done to each other, but it was exactly what Victor needed in that moment, responding in earnest. His heart ached in his chest with adoration, breath hitching as Yuuri's fingers gently laced through his against the cubicle wall.

God, he loved this man. More than he dared care to admit; this man that could shatter his world with pleasure yet care for him so deeply it made tears come to Victor's eyes just thinking about it.

Words could never describe what he felt as Yuuri slowly turned and they sank into each other's arms, both of them spent. Instead, he would show Yuuri what he truly meant to him by honouring him every day for the rest of his life, as his husband.

Still, the words couldn't hurt: "I love you," he sighed.