Detroit always seems cold, out of the rink and inside it, but nothing's compared to this.
Yuuri reclines backwards on his cot, squinting through the dim light overhead. Typical of a cheap dormitory. His legs clench up, rising and hugging around his fully clothed roommate staring him over in grinning awe.
The slippery, chilled sensation of melting water dribbles down Yuuri's naked abs, quivering his muscles visibly. Phichit's fingers hold the chunk of ice as securely as he can manage. He caresses it across two of Yuuri's ribs, creating a wet path, observing Yuuri's skin pinken to the freezing-cold contact.
"Na-rak-jung-ruay," comes out like a whisper, like reverence.
Yuuri squirms against the other man, and down on the wrinkled sheets. A low, moaning noise escapes him as Phichit's empty, gloved hand traces down Yuuri's side, cupping his hip. Being naked — being naked and practically spread out for his friend's overly admiring gaze — that had not been exactly in his plans.
It's been a long day of training, neither of them having showered or having the opportunity to process the adrenaline. Phichit respects Yuuri's need for boundaries and distance, but it feels amazing when it's only them like this. When it's their wandering hands and wandering, softened gazes, accompanied by thrumming hearts in drifting, easy silence.
And somehow, all of this proves difficult, right when admitting what he wants — when it's already there for him, supporting him, teasing him, bringing Yuuri right to the edge of sensory, sensual unraveling.
Phichit leaves the melting ice to Yuuri's heaving sternum, leaning over, his dark eyes twinkling.
He kisses like a sunburst, his brown lips opening to Yuuri's accepting mouth, giving him heat and dizziness mingled in arousal. Yuuri's fingers drag messily into Phichit's silky-feeling, midnight hair, nearly fisting.
Yuuri has never felt this touch-starved before, drowning so deeply in a scorching kiss, gasping for air to revive him. He shifts against the other man, hips lightly pressing. Yuuri's belly twists in pleasure, his cock stirring.
Phichit's the same — Yuuri doesn't want to say it, to acknowledge what's happening and risk the possible embarrassment. A dark gloved forefinger brushes over a soft, rosy nipple, pulling a small and pleasant shudder out of Yuuri. His tongue sweeps a little against Phichit's lower lip — Yuuri kisses him quickly, a little too harshly. Opens his mouth against the other man's slowly and nearly whines out for him.
There's a murmurous laugh between them. Yuuri presses his tongue slightly against Phichit's, inside his own mouth, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. He has spent enough time during the past year learning how to kiss someone, how someone else feels in his hands and how it tastes — without frigidness, or loneliness — but everything's all still new to him, in a way.
It'll be years from now when Viktor asks if Yuuri ever had a girlfriend.
Definitely not a girlfriend — and it's nobody's business why or why not.
Yuri on Ice is not mine. SO I'VE DECIDED FOR NOW, I'M DEFINITELY SHIPPING VIKTUURI AND PHIYUURI. My brain wanted to run with pre-canon and if Phitchit and Yuuri were fooling around back then, and this is what happened. The dialogue translation for all of the Thai was done by the WONDERFUL pop2143 on Tumblr, and they had be present the dialogue with the dashes so I'm doing exactly as they ask, woo! Please please I hope you guys enjoyed this!
"You're adorable." = "น่ารักจังเลย" (Na-rak-jung-ruay)
"Stop thinking so much." = "อย่าคิดมาก" (Ya-kid-mak)