.

.

Yuuri hates how difficult it is to concentrate, his mind drifting to Russia and his fiance six thousand kilometers away.

Especially while being surrounded by an excitable bustle of the skating competition in three days.

"Let's go to the beach, come on," Phichit urges him, cupping their hands together and locking fingers, brown and pale, together. He pretends to glare until Yuuri narrows his eyes and snorts quietly, agreeing. It never fails — Phichit knows him. He knows Yuuri needs a distraction right now.

They can't afford to go underwater diving, or glimpse the kaleidoscope of tropical fish.

However, a little after sunrise, the multi-colored pebble beach near their hotel empties of other tourists. No prying eyes.

The water splashes foamy and warm in Yuuri's face. Phichit's burst of laughter echoes through the air, as they tackle each other in the waves, naked and sun-heated. Phichit's skin smells damp, sour-salty under Yuuri's tongue when he presses his mouth to Phichit's neck and cheek, hugging himself up against him.

"I don't think I've seen you this happy in a while," Phichit tells him, They're still rocked by the waves hitting them torso-height. Ocean water soaks Phichit's hair and drizzles down his face.

Yuuri doesn't know how to answer the solemn, whispered observation — so he kisses Phichit's lips instead, nipping and slow-licking, exhaling a giggle at Phichit's awed groan, clinging more tightly to Yuuri.

Warm, tropic water magnifies the arousal deafening in Yuuri's senses, relaxes him.

He ruts himself against Phichit's cock already stirring to life, pushed to Yuuri's thigh, and forgets about being in the open. About appearing naked and glistening in the roaring, endless ocean.

The morning-light arcs over them, golden-orange and hushed.

.

.

He hasn't worked up the courage to talk to Phichit about going further in their relationship.

Other than what exists in their long-standing friendship… and the sex, of course.

Phichit looked glorious, dark eyes fluttering, coming undone in Yuuri's wet, purposeful hands. It had been too reckless to consider anything more than a mutual hand-job in the ocean, especially during the tide. Yuuri didn't say an opinion about it, already content, grunting into Phichit's needy, salt-moist mouth.

The hotel's stairwell stifles with humidity and their muffled voices.

"When's Viktor getting in? Tonight?" Phichit asks, tilting his head to Yuuri's shoulder. His arm drapes comfortably to Yuuri's waist.

Yuuri's right hand touches briefly, mindfully over Phichit's sleeve.

"Mmhm… I need to pick him up." Yuuri gazes over him as Phichit's expression brightens, face dimpling.

"I'll be gone with Christophe and Leo, so don't worry about me, Yuuri. You two have fun."

There's nothing jealous in Phichit's tone, not that Yuuri expects it to happen this late into the arrangement. Viktor has never complained about Yuuri dating Phichit either, even after the engagement. He only wanted Yuuri's happiness, and spoke with Phichit about how they all wanted to handle this.

Yuuri appreciates both of his partners being mature, levelheaded about expectations and limits.

"Don't wait up," Phichit says, aiming a playful wink.

Before he steps out, Yuuri grabs onto his ash grey polo-collar, gravitating in and caressing their lips, murmuring out Phichit's name in heightened emotion, in a longing too shivery and fresh to escape. Phichit answers in a deepening kiss, clawing his fingertips into Yuuri's jeans and his hips.

"Love you, go…"

Phichit encourages this, setting a tinier, lingering kiss to Yuuri's chin, smiling the whole time.

.

.

The airport in Dalmatia, Croatia is less crowded than expected.

Yuuri spots the top of a silvery-blond head within seconds and races over, past the white-cushioned benches, and the confused, pinched-faced staff members.

"Yuuri," Viktor breathes out, relief audible. He drops his baggage and opens his arms for Yuuri's embrace, as the other man collides into him, hooking his arms around him, Yuuri's hands clenching. Their heads lean to each other. Viktor weighs his forehead to Yuuri's temple, yawning silently.

This is heavenly, pure skin-contact when Yuuri lifts his head from Viktor's shoulder and cradles his face.

Viktor doesn't just sound exhausted — he looks it. Thin, violet-colored bags under his eyes, maybe a few days old. A wrinkle creasing Viktor's brow.

Yuuri resists biting on his lip, staring in worry.

"How's Yurio?"

"Fractured ankle, but he's going to be alright." Viktor sighs. "The worst of it was his stubbornness, insisting he could get around without the crutches. He's with his grandfather and Coach Yakov." He cups Yuuri's face, soft and full of amiable heat, thoughtfully stroking Yuuri's cheekbones. "How are you?"

Just as Viktor half-grins, Yuuri mirrors it, grazing their noses.

"Wanted to know… when you were coming…"

"Here I am, dorogoi," Viktor whispers, brushing his lips to the tip of Yuuri's nose, to the jut of his upper lip, suckling a light, teasing kiss. It's when the overboard speakers chime, announcing a brand new change in a scheduled landing, is when they notice a group of teenagers oogling and pointing slightly.

Yuuri flushes, wincing and burying his face into Viktor's pale, bare throat.

"We do seem to make a spectacle of ourselves at airports, heh…"

Viktor's further, overly pleased teasing doesn't go unnoticed, as Yuuri mumbles out a garbled complaint and hurries for the baggage at Viktor's feet, nudging his fiance to move.

.

.

Golden street-lights illuminate the dark blue horizon, razor-split between sea and air.

Yuuri sees it doubtlessly from the hotel window, basking in the sensation of love, unbridled and pulsing — riding out the invisible waves, clutching onto the source without restraint. He's already filled the condom, but Viktor doesn't bother untangling from Yuuri, whimpering up against a kiss-swollen mouth.

"I want to go through the quads again, during practice—"

"Sounds good, love you," Viktor murmurs dismissively, giving a wide smirk as Yuuri makes an impatient, benevolent noise, rolling them sideways. He waits for Viktor to shift off him, lounging out carelessly before removing the condom, twisting and knotting the end.

"Yuuuuri," Viktor whines, gesturing out.

After tossing the used condom into the bathroom trash-bin, Yuuri returns with a clean, damp washcloth. He ignores Viktor's grabby hands, climbing back onto the plush mattress next to him.

He wipes off Viktor's abdomen in long, gentle strokes, mouth thinning.

"Yuuri…"

Viktor's blue-green eyes peer up at him, no longer carrying a silly or mischievous light.

"Would you like to lay down?" he asks. Yuuri can't help but feel joy when Viktor's fingers skim over Yuuri's hand resting on him. "We can talk about your short program tomorrow. I promise."

"You're tired, Vitya…" Yuuri insists, sinking against Viktor's pillow, face-to-face. "I should have let you rest."

The other man shakes his head, grinning.

"Absolutely not. I needed… this." Viktor gathers their hands, pressing all ten of Yuuri's fingers to his chest and tilts his head, eyes lidding. His mouth tickles the surface of Yuuri's lips. "You. Us."

Despite the poor lighting, Yuuri glimpses the honey gold-shine of their rings.

He has everything he needs… doesn't he?

Yuuri stores away the conjured, glimmering thought of a platinum or white gold ring. Witnessing it cradled lovingly between Phichit's slender, dark brown fingers.

.

.


YOI isn't mine. Hey hey! It's another YOI Weds and I've come with POLY! "Victor/Yuuri, Phichit/Yuuri + NSFW, established relationship(s), polyamory!" was asked for on the YOI Kink Meme and I love both OTPs so this works! I hope you all enjoy this and please leave a thought/comment if you did! :)