melodytree (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
melodytree) wrote2016-12-20 03:45 pm
melodytree) wrote2016-12-20 03:45 pm
Yuri on Ice, "Break the Walls" (JJ->Yuuri)
Title: Break the Walls
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Pairing/characters: JJ->dream!eros!Yuuri, background JJ/Isabella
Rating: Explicit
Contains: N/A
Summary: Before the Grand Prix Final, JJ dreams of Katsuki Yuuri seducing him on the ice.
Notes: Based entirely off of the expression Yuuri is making when JJ imagines everyone towering above him in episode 11.
JJ dreams of skating.
Very often, it's completely mundane; after all the training he does during the day, he goes through the motions in his dreams again at night. It can be disorientating at times – getting back tired from practicing a routine, performing it another fifty times while he's asleep, and then waking up feeling like he only just stepped off the ice.
He prefers the ones that are a bit different. He's skated across fields of grain, before, in his dreams, or the roofs of his hometown, not quite orientated like reality. Sometimes his parents are there with him, or his siblings; once he dreamed of a picnic on the ice with his family. Nowadays, Isabella more often makes an appearance – as herself, ready to be swept off her feet; as a princess, floating along next to him; as a fellow skater, clinging to him as he shows her his dominion.
In reality, Isabella can barely skate, but in his dreamscape they can share his kingdom of ice together.
When JJ gets back from Russia with another gold, he expects to dream, as usual, of victory, or Isabella, or perhaps, for once, something quieter and stranger with no ice in it at all.
Instead, he dreams of a competition – not any one in particular, the arena being a mishmash and the stands half-empty – and just as his father is about to wish him good luck on his short program, he realizes that someone else is out on the ice, still finishing his own program.
The figure is clothed in black, mesh covering half his torso, crystals glinting in the sharp light. As he turns into a jump, fabric flutters against his side, flaring out as he lands cleanly. Yuuri Katsuki. Is this his short program? JJ can't remember much about it. Eros, right? Something energetic and sexy without being as obscene as Giacometti's performances.
It's okay. It's not up to his level. JJ absently waits for him to finish, and doesn't notice that there's no music playing. He checks the wrist of his costume and tugs slightly where it's rotated too far around, and when he looks up again his breath leaves him.
Katsuki is right there in front of him, his eyes dark and smoky, his hands cupped together and extended so they almost, almost touch JJ. He dances back again, his arms pulling into his chest, but it's long seconds before his gaze leaves JJ's and then only so he can twist back into his dance. It's energetic and loose, free with emotion and playfulness.
Except for fractional moments, he keeps his eyes on JJ, a satisfied smile on his face, all the way until he turns into a spin that's long-limbed and beautiful, and when he sinks into his final pose his back is to JJ. JJ frowns and prepares to call out to him – he won't be ignored–
He wakes with his heart pounding, half-hard. Isabella slumbers peacefully on beside him. He resists the urge to smash his head into his pillow a few dozen times – that would be unseemly and difficult to explain to Isabella – and settles for snuggling closer to her and doing his best to banish the images from his head.
So he had a weird dream about a competitor. He's had strange erotic dreams before – there's still one about his elderly third grade teacher that he wishes he could forget – and it's probably the fault of the jet lag. He'll do his best to forget it and move on.
Why Katsuki, though? He may be Victor's new student (slash boytoy), but he's hardly JJ's biggest competitor this season. Even at Rostelecom, the closest thing he had to competition was the new Russian kid that everyone thinks is going to replace Victor. Though that kid is pretty young and seems to be full of nothing but rage and skating; of course his brain isn't going to be creeping on him.
He writes it off, and doesn't the dream the next night. The night after, he dreams of skating figures in the ice until Isabella calls him off for coffee, and the night after that, he's back to dreaming of his free skate program.
And then:
He's standing on the ice with a roaring crowd, flowers scattered everywhere and a medal heavy on his chest – gold, of course. Nothing less for the king. He bows to one side, then the other, gives them all his trademark grin and JJ-style hands, and it only riles them up more.
He turns once more, scooping up a bunch of flowers as he does, and there is a figure in front of him, facing away. Slim, clothed in black, hair slicked back. Katsuki turns his head over his shoulder, blows him a kiss, and starts to dance.
The crowd is gone. The flowers tumble from his fingers as Katsuki runs his hands downs his sides and they vanish as well. Only the medal remains, a familiar presence on his chest, and Katsuki, who skates away from him, then closer again and to the side to gain momentum for a perfect quad Salchow. As soon as he lands it, he's directing the same smirk as before to JJ, who had unconsciously turned to follow him, and Katsuki gradually skates closer and closer.
Suddenly that lean body is right in front of him, stock-still, and Katsuki pulls him down to his level by the ribbon of his medal. They pause there for a few moments – JJ unable to tug himself away, Katsuki examining him with his warm brown eyes through the strands of hair that have fallen back over his forehead, his smirk gone.
When it returns, it's more of a smile. "I can change the world," he sings, his voice low as his eyelids sink. He breathes in, nice and slow and even, and JJ can hear the implied commas around his name: "JJ, just follow me." He lets go of the ribbon, then, and pushes himself a few feet away. It takes JJ a minute to remember he can straighten up, and he's just about come to his senses and told Katsuki off for stealing his song when he continues in his soft voice, accent light on each syllable: "Catch me if you can." One arm extends towards JJ as he pushes back another foot.
JJ reaches out for it without thinking. Of course he can catch him – he can catch anyone on the ice. Even as he does so, though Katsuki is drifting back, just beyond his grasp. "Just look at me," and it's not a lyric, it's not a request, it's a demand, JJ couldn't tear his gaze away if he wanted to. Not from the easy confidence of Katsuki's smile, not from his eyes crinkling at the corners, not from the small sway of his hips as he shifts his feet. "I am brave enough to fight the enemies, this is who I am, just remember me."
JJ pushes forward – he ought to be able to reach, Katsuki's not that far away – but Katsuki makes a sharp turn and comes around him, one finger tracing across the back of his shoulder blades. "I am the king, JJ, no one can stop me," Katsuki continues, voice slow and deep, and JJ finally grabs his hand and spins to look at him again.
Katsuki smiles. His hand is warm and his fingers curl gently against JJ's palm, the mesh of his gloves soft and delicate. "This who I am–" he sings as JJ pulls him in–
And wakes up as Isabella kicks him in the leg. "Oh, sorry, babe," she mumbles. A few seconds later she pushes herself off the pillow with a confused expression. "JJ? You've got the strangest look on your face. What's wrong?"
He pulls her in, twines his fingers in her hair, and kisses her like he hasn't seen her in a month. She laughs and digs her nails into his back, rucking up his shirt, and returns the kiss with almost as much passion.
Later, when she is satisfied and sleeping again, JJ strokes her hair back from her face and sits up on the edge of the bed.
Okay. Obviously, his brain didn't get the message. He's training hard to show the world his best face for the Grand Prix Final; it's just generating strange things in response. This isn't going to happen again, he tells himself, and closes his eyes. He remembers the crowd cheering for him, the lights flashing as he stands on the top of the podium, and there is no Katsuki in sight.
Good. As the king of skating, he has to have excellent mental control. That's why he never gets the shakes at competitions, or crashes when he makes a mistake. When the fans get JJ, they get the same thing every time, not a gamble on whether he'll be as fantastic as usual or will crumble if by some fluke he falls on his first jump.
And just to be sure to give himself the right thing to focus on – though he's been thinking of doing this since the beginning of the season – when he has a few hours, he visits a jewelry shop with a ring slipped from the silver-colored miniature maple tree Isabella keeps on her dresser. The clerk smiles, smiles, smiles, as she helps him pick out a ring with a large, sparkling diamond. Not one of the gold ones – he'll save that for the wedding, he muses – but silver like all the rest of her jewelry.
He dreams of skating on red ice, of skating to his theme from last year, of Isabella singing his theme song to an arena of fans like it's the national anthem.
By their going-away party he's nearly forgotten about the strange dream of Katsuki, and he certainly doesn't have time to think about it any further. While their family and friends gather around to wish him luck – as if he needs it – he pulls the ring out. Isabella cries with joy and won't stop looking at it for the rest of the evening; people are already asking when their wedding is going to be.
"You're so young," one of Isabella's friends laughs. "Are you really getting married already?"
"Why wait when I'll already have everything I could want? A gold from every major competition, a beautiful, kind, and supportive fiancée...." A host of companies falling at his feet begging him for endorsements, charities asking him to speak or skate for their causes, a song he wrote playing on repeat in everyone's head.
She laughs again. "Well, don't break a leg," she says.
"Yeah, poor Isabella will cry if you can't marry her because you can't win gold–"
"Oh, come on, of course he'll marry her anyway – have you seen them together?"
"Well, yeah, but after making a declaration like that...."
But JJ has no worries like that – who else is going to win gold? The Russian kid who can't keep up with him yet? Giacometti, who's already aging out and has been second-place for years now? That Thai kid who only has one quad? That guy from Kazakhstan who nobody even remembers? Katsuki, who choked so badly on pressure last year that even JJ, who had barely paid him attention, can remember wincing at his terrible falls?
He dreams of the Grand Prix Final; he dreams of performing his programs; he dreams that all of Canada is in the arena with him, the stands infinite, enchanted by him. On the plane trip to Barcelona, he dreams of nothing at all.
He and Isabella have a romantic night out – despite the small hitch of the other skaters not getting his joke when they run into them, they have a delicious dinner that he pays for in a dim and golden restaurant. Before and after that, they wander a bit – Isabella wants to see the Christmas market, and the churches, and the other sights of Barcelona, though clearly she is concerned about affecting his performance tomorrow. "Are you sure you aren't tired?" she asks him more than once. "Let me know when you want to go back. We can always see more of the city later," she tells him. He squeezes her hand and doesn't say anything; he slept plenty on the plane, more than Isabella, and he knows she won't outlast him.
When they finally return to their hotel and go to sleep, she first kisses him, and then the diamond on her ring. "I'll replace it with gold," he tells her, and she smiles and tucks herself against him.
"Of course you will," she whispers. "You're the king of the ice. I know you can do it."
He falls asleep almost instantly. Katsuki is waiting in the arena for him when he starts to dream.
One arm is thrown across his body, clasped against the opposite hip. The other is tucked against his chin. His head is tilted as he considers JJ, the corners of his lips curled up. "Do you really think you're fit to be the king?" he asks.
This time, rather than being swept up in Katsuki's gaze or the way he moves, JJ remains in control of himself. "Of course I am," he says, squaring his shoulders. Medals that weren't there before thump against his chest. "I rule the world. There's no-one who could defeat me now. Even Victor knows that."
Katsuki draws his hand from under his chin to cover his mouth. He laughs, his head bowing as his shoulders shake and his eyes close. "If you're the king," he says, dropping his hand to settle on his hip near the other one, "then I'm the emperor."
JJ snorts. "Your difficulty doesn't even come close to mine. Don't get cocky just because your coach is the former god of the ice who ran away before I could defeat him."
"Oh?" Katsuki raises an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? Difficulty isn't everything. You have to perform."
"And I do. Better than anyone." The crowd chants his name, does his signature pose to cheer him on, screams at the end of every flawless routine because he's shown them such a good time.
"Then why don't you show me?" The arm draped across his chest extends outward again, and Katsuki leans forward to put his hand just within JJ's reach. JJ takes it with no hesitation, and Katsuki's smile only grows as he does so.
"What sort of performance were you looking for?" Whatever it is, he can provide.
Wordlessly, Katsuki leads him to a stone bench that is jutting out of the ice. There's no arena anymore, just ice and mist out into forever. Katsuki lets go of his hand to sit on the bench, one leg crossed high over the other while he leans back on his hands and grasps the back edge with his fingertips. JJ goes to sit next to him – there is room – but that gets him a frown from Katsuki, a sigh, and the shake of a head. Confused, JJ quirks an eyebrow.
Katsuki gestures him over a bit, to which he obliges. Then he reaches out. Before JJ even realizes that he's moved, he's yanking him down by the medals and then pushing him down with one hand on a shoulder.
"Try again."
There's a skate dangling in front of his face. JJ gets it. He shoots Katsuki a grin, then leans forward and pulls on the lace with his teeth. Bet he didn't expect that. Indeed, he hears a gasp from above, and the hand on his shoulder creeps up his neck to his hair as he sits back on his heels to free up his hands for properly loosing up the laces.
Katsuki's fingers tighten as he eases the skate off, as gently as Isabella does for him when she can meet him at the rink, and scratch against his scalp as he presses his lips to the top of Katsuki's ankle. The second skate he pulls into his lap to undo, and then he sets the skates aside and looks back up. Katsuki's eyes are heavy-lidded, and without his smile they look intense.
JJ gets up and leans forward to kiss him. Katsuki makes a sound against his mouth, the gasps again when JJ runs fingers through his hair. As JJ goes in for another, though, Katsuki stops him with a gentle touch at his collar and tilts his head, then says, "Sit down," when JJ doesn't get it.
He sits. The medals clink together as he leans in toward Katsuki again. Katsuki starts to lean in, too, his fingers light against the side of JJ's head, before he suddenly swings himself over JJ's legs. The hand in his hair tightens almost to the point of pain, while the other digs into his shoulder. Katsuki yanks his head back and pushes their lips together, hot and wet. In the span of a moment JJ has gone breathless.
This won't do. He goes for the hand in his hair, first, pulls at it until the fingers relax and he can shove it down onto his other shoulder. He wraps an arm around Katsuki's slim waist and the other around his head and does his best to take control of the kiss, pressing his tongue into Katsuki's mouth and moving his lips and pulling them together until it's Katsuki who's gasping for air.
They break apart when their teeth bump a little too hard. Katsuki has a pretty flush on his face, and he doesn't look quite as focused as before. JJ likes that look. He grins, slides his hands down Katsuki's sides, and pulls him in for another kiss once they've both caught their breath. He digs his fingers into the muscle just above Katsuki's hips as Katsuki's hands slip back off his shoulders and clasp somewhere behind his neck, his forearms trembling slightly where his weight rests on them.
JJ can solve that. He pulls again, harder, until Katsuki's knees slip on the bench and with a startled noise, he falls fully into JJ's lap. It provides wonderful pressure on his groin, and he can't help but to moan and buck up into it, grip Katsuki's hips even more tightly. He closes his eyes and bucks again, dipping his head against Katsuki's shoulder.
He jerks Katsuki even closer, enjoying the moment until suddenly fingers dig hard and painful into the inside of his wrists right above the tendons; by reflex, he lets go. Katsuki shoves them away, and when JJ blinks up at him his eyes are intent again, the pink fading from his cheeks. His lips, red and shining from their kisses, are pressed together. He tips his head to the side and asks, "Is this how you intend to seduce me?"
"What, you don't like it JJ style?"
"For someone who promises to show us how it's done, you're not doing that well. You'll have to try harder if you want to be the king."
JJ doesn't quite get what he means – what's wrong with what he's doing now? – but he's not going to give in to a challenge like this. He meets Katsuki's gaze and picks his hand up off the bench, puts it on one warm calf and squeezes. "You think you can do better? No-one defeats me," he says as he raises the other hand up to Katsuki's cheek.
Katsuki closes his eyes and snorts softly, his breath ghosting across JJ's fingers. He comes willingly into the next kiss – softer, gentler – before he sets his hands on JJ's shoulders again and shoves him backwards.
There's a bed behind the bench now (of course there is, there always was) and it's soft and not too springy. Katsuki starts to crawl over his supine form; he edges himself back at the same time until he's fully on the bed instead of dangling half off the bench. "Hey," he says, low, as Katsuki catches up to him, but then his lips are caught in a kiss again and there's no room for words.
He settles his hands along Katsuki's back as the lips on his move down, to his jaw, to his neck, down to the collar of his costume, where teeth dig in just so, provoking a gasp. Katsuki does it again and then a third time, and he can feel lips smiling against the skin as he lets out a moan and rakes one hand through Katsuki's hair.
He can feel the zipper on the side of his belt release and the fabric relaxing against him. A second later, Katsuki catches the hidden zipper at the front of his collar in his mouth. He pauses to meet JJ's eyes before he begins to pull it down by his teeth, inch by slow inch. His eyes are on JJ the whole time, wide open, and JJ can't look away even as Katsuki sits up on his hips and pushes the shirt open. "Help out?" he asks, one corner of his lips quirking up, and JJ sits up on his elbows so they can pull the shirt off of him together.
He throws it off to the side somewhere as soon as he's finished struggling with the second cuff; the moment he does so, Katsuki is back on him, mouth moving from his neck to his collar and teeth scraping down to one nipple as his thumb presses close to the other. "Oh!" JJ arches his back and digs his hands into Katsuki's shoulder blades, then groans and rolls his hips up – futile, since Katsuki is holding himself above JJ. "C'mon," he pants. Katsuki chuckles and just mouths at his chest again.
So JJ strokes his hands down from his shifting shoulder blades to the hard muscles up of his upper arms, wraps one leg around Katsuki's, and throws them over. Katsuki blinks up at him as he pins his wrists down, then moves in for another long, sloppy kiss. That's better, the hot friction beneath him – and Katsuki's into it, too, wriggling and moaning.
He has to let go of one hand to push himself up, but Katsuki leaves it where it was, pale fingers curling against his palm near his head.
"Look at you," JJ croons, which makes Katsuki's fingers twitch and his eyelids lower a fraction. JJ grinds against him again, and is pleased to see his eyes fully close and the flush spread further down his face.
It's a good look on him, gasping quietly underneath him as they push themselves together. The costume helps; it fits him perfectly, molding to the small dip of his waist, following every line of his arms as they shift against the bedspread, showing off the muscles of his chest as his breath comes more rapidly.
He can keep the top part on, JJ decides. It's a simple matter to get rid of his own trousers and kick them off the bed (his skates don't get in the way, as they vanished a while ago; he never noticed when). Katsuki's are a more difficult problem, what with the way they cling to his hips and his legs until JJ rolls them down past his thighs, at which point, given more ease, they slide off like silk.
JJ leans back to take him in for a moment. Katsuki's hands still rest near his head, though they've stopped twitching; his face has gone calmer and considering, too, watching what JJ has to give him. He's not unaffected, though, with stray hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat and his breathing faster and more shallow than normal. And below the stark black of his top, the silver stones shining and sparkling with every rise and fall of his chest, he's quite hard.
He wraps his hand around him to see the way Katsuki's eyes flutter shut, how his face twists just a bit as his mouth parts on a gasp. All of this beauty in his hands... he strokes once, twice, relishes the way Katsuki shudders and drives one hand back into JJ's hair. It's a pleasant pull, more gentle one moment and harsher the next, but never going too painful.
JJ lets go, and Katsuki must be following him, because he obediently parts his legs to let JJ slide between them. They slip against his sides, damp with sweat, and they're so warm. The little half-skirt shifts as they adjust themselves, and it ends up pressed against JJ's skin. The way it half covers Katsuki is strangely enticing. "Have you ever thought about wearing a real skirt?" he asks, touching Katsuki's thigh just under the hem. "You'd look good in one."
Katsuki just raises an eyebrow in response. He hooks his other leg over JJ's shoulder and pulls him down for another kiss, this one slower than before, and they groan into each other's mouths as they rub against each other. It's good – more than good with Katsuki begging for another kiss as soon as he tries to pull away, fingers trying to get a purchase on his back – but he wants even more, and as he acquiesces to Katsuki's wordless plea, he tugs on his hip for one more adjustment and thrusts inside.
He means to do it slowly – he prides himself on his great self-control – but it's just so satisfying that he pushes faster than intended, barely pausing before withdrawing part-way and shoving in again. Beneath him, Katsuki makes a strangled, high-pitched sound and arches hard, throwing his head back and revealing his neck. JJ digs his teeth into it as he moves once more, pushing as hard as he can. Katsuki claws at his back for a few seconds, before he stops and his hands fall away altogether.
A moment later, JJ looks up, hoping to catch those intense eyes focused on him, or perhaps too far gone to focus on much at all, but what he sees makes him pause instead. Katsuki's eyes are intent, yes, but not in the way JJ expected. He is, in fact, making the most unimpressed face JJ has ever seen someone wear.
"Is this the extent of your eros?" Katsuki asks. His voice is rough around the edges, but it's flat.
"What...?"
"You say you always do your best. If this is your best, I'm disappointed."
JJ laughs. "This too gentle for you? Not kinky enough? Should we have found a pole for you to work yourself up on first?"
Katsuki shakes his head. He slides his leg off JJ's shoulder, then gently pushes at him until, confused, he draws out. "Like this," he says, maneuvering JJ against the headboard (it wasn't there a moment ago, but that doesn't matter). He clambers into JJ's lap and sinks himself down on his cock, slow. When JJ sets hands on his hips, intending to hurry him along, he removes them and settles them higher, on his waist. "There," he says, breathy, once he's settled all the way down. "Now look at me." His hands splay along the sharp curve of JJ's jaw, then brush down his neck to grip his shoulders. "Don't shove, JJ," his voice softening on his name, "and follow me."
The pace Katsuki sets is gentle, and JJ itches to relieve his impatience and make things harder, quicker, but the look on Katsuki's face is enough to stop him. There's the face he wanted to see – focused, pink, long eyelashes fluttering when JJ shifts his fingers. Under his hands, he can feel the dense muscle beneath the fabric, flexing and working as Katsuki moves. JJ leans in and puts his lips to that arching neck, grinning at the hitch it creates in his breath.
It goes on for too long, Katsuki moving too slowly, but he won't be made to beg – no-one defeats him like that – and instead he grits his teeth as the urge to disregard Katsuki and take what he wants gets stronger. It helps to see that Katsuki must be getting close, too; red has spread down his cheeks into his neck, and his collected expression is starting to break, whines coming from his throat.
"Come on," JJ finally grunts into his shoulder when it gets to be too much, the pressure inside him aching to be released. "Come on," he says again, putting the force of his will behind it like this is a jump he can power through.
There's an amused puff of air against his temple. "Was that a request, king JJ?"
JJ growls at the mocking tone and slams his hips up as Katsuki sinks down, and damn if that doesn't– he does it once more, before he at last pushes over; he clutches Katsuki to his chest as his muscles tighten and lock up and God, he's so hot, he can't catch his breath and he's coming–
He pants as he comes down, consciously relaxes his fingers to relieve the ache in his hand and forearm. Katsuki isn't moving away from his chest any, though now the heat is uncomfortable. He's trembling, hips still rocking. JJ pushes their foreheads together and sees that his eyes have gone glassy.
One hand fumbles at his own and pulls it away from the damp fabric of Katsuki's top. "Here," he gasps, guiding it to his cock. JJ closes his fingers and ignores the twinge farther up his arm. It's not long before Katsuki is curling his spine and making high-pitched noises, then digging nails into JJ's skin and pressing even closer as he shudders against him.
Afterward, they just breathe against each for a bit, before Katsuki shuffles off his lap and up next to him, leaning into his shoulder. JJ could sit here for forever – this isn't a competition where they have to have the energy to smile through the kiss-and-cry and the interviews and slogging back through endless hallways.
It's Katsuki who starts to withdraw first. JJ manages to reel him back in for one last kiss by tugging his hair, and it's soft and almost chaste, but then he's slipping away and sliding his legs back over the side of the bed. He's fully-dressed again, skates back on, though his hair is still messed up rather than perfectly slicked back, from JJ running his fingers through it too many times, and his lips are swollen and deep pink.
JJ doesn't know where he's going as he starts to drift off across the ice. He scrambles for his clothes on the bedspread – not his costume, now, but his favorite practice clothes – but by the time he's dressed, Katsuki is almost gone. JJ sees him cast a glance back and lick his lips teasingly, one arm sliding from his ribs down to his hips, but even as JJ skates with all of his considerable power, the fog closes in and he loses sight–
–and wakes up next to Isabella.
He has the presence of mind to get out of the bed without waking her before he locks himself in the bathroom and has a very long shower. Could it be the pressure getting to him? It can't be. He never gets hits with nerves, not since he was thirteen and gave himself an upset stomach. It can't be that he actually desires Katsuki like that, either, he's attractive enough but Isabella is far prettier (and he can't seem to silence the voice that says Isabella has lots of fitted black shirts, could I ask her to comb her hair back without it being weird). Oh, God, what if he's becoming another Giacometti?
By the time a sleepy Isabella tries to open the door, he's been standing at the mirror for a while, splashing his face with cold water every couple of minutes. He can't let this shake him. It's not a big deal, in the scheme of things; so he had a weird dream about a competitor. It's hardly the first time, even if it's never been this weird before. It doesn't mean anything. Katsuki doesn't have the ability to outdo his score, and if he did try to seduce someone on the ice, surely it would be his coach, now that they seem to be engaged or whatever.
"Babe?" Isabella asks when he emerges. "You doing okay? Ready to crown yourself king again?"
He bends down and kisses her. "Yeah," he says. "Just needed a minute to finish going through my routine in my head."
She gives him the world's most gorgeous smile and promises not to take long.
By the time he's almost finished preparing for his short program and about ready to head out onto the ice, he's managed to put the whole thing behind him. Clearly it was just his brain getting some stress relief in, and with all of his focus on the final, it happened to pick one of his competitors that looks kind of like his girlfriend instead of his actual girlfriend. When he falls asleep after winning tomorrow, it will make no such mistake.
(He ignores the part of himself that is relieved to see that Katsuki is not the seductive thing he was in JJ's dreams, but rather a normal skater like he was the last time JJ saw him, and that Katsuki in fact pays him no attention at all.)
He smiles gamely as Altin skates off the ice. Then it's his turn, and the crowd is cheering his name. This is his time to shine, his music playing, his face in everyone's vision, and–
he screws up his combination. It's okay, it's okay – and he trips over his triple axel – he can do this, he can do this–
Isabella presses her hands to her smile, tears in her eyes, as she tells him he can win everything. Then she's gone, and all he can see is everyone else towering above him: Chulanont, smiling, barely even looking his way; Plisetsky looking ready to murder his records while Altin cuts an imposing figure next to him; Giacometti giving him a pitying look.
And Katsuki – Katsuki has one hand on his hip and the other pressed up against his cheek, like he can't believe he's caught JJ's attention at all. Except he's got one eyebrow raised and a tilted smirk on his face. JJ knows, knows that he remembers last night, probably did it just to shake him–
JJ is falling away from them. The pressure from above is unbearable. But he's got a world to rule, a universe; he doesn't have time to give up. He digs himself in and climbs, but even as he does so he can't break away from Katsuki's eyes, the way they burn into him as his smirk only deepens further the higher JJ goes.
He comes back to himself. The crowd is singing to his song; they came here to see him win. He rides their support to the end of the program, though it feels tougher than anything he's ever skated before, then reassures them that he's okay after receiving the worst scores of his career.
And he is okay. Tomorrow can change everything. He'll show Katsuki what a real performance is like.
He makes it through the rest of the day – everyone trying to tell him that things are fine, Isabella crying on his shoulder and telling him over and over that she believes in him, a deluge of messages on social media, his phone blowing up with texts and emails. By the time he goes to bed, he's more exhausted than he's felt in a long time. He quickly falls asleep with the smell of Isabella's perfume around him.
So, naturally, he dreams of the cliff. The other skaters are still there, though most of them are facing away and gathered on the other side, faces turned heavenward. The only one left on his side of the cliff, watching him teeter at the edge from a white-knuckled grip, is Katsuki. After a long moment of looking down at him, Katsuki unfolds one arm and draws his hand from his cheek.
"Who will follow who to the top of the universe?" Katsuki asks, extending his hand but not bending down at all. "Will you be the star, or will it be me?"
"It will be me, of course," JJ grunts out. He pulls himself up another inch.
"After today's performance? You'll have to show us something special tomorrow to make up for it." The disdain is there, strong; still, he keeps his hand out.
JJ grins back at him and shoves up a little bit more. Almost there.... "I'm always special. That's the JJ style."
Katsuki laughs. JJ takes his hand. It's warm, fingers closing around his own, and then everything around them is ice and everyone is taking off. JJ sees the reflection of himself, the king in the ice as he pulls ahead, and doesn't forget Katsuki trailing right behind, ready to blindside him.
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Pairing/characters: JJ->dream!eros!Yuuri, background JJ/Isabella
Rating: Explicit
Contains: N/A
Summary: Before the Grand Prix Final, JJ dreams of Katsuki Yuuri seducing him on the ice.
Notes: Based entirely off of the expression Yuuri is making when JJ imagines everyone towering above him in episode 11.
JJ dreams of skating.
Very often, it's completely mundane; after all the training he does during the day, he goes through the motions in his dreams again at night. It can be disorientating at times – getting back tired from practicing a routine, performing it another fifty times while he's asleep, and then waking up feeling like he only just stepped off the ice.
He prefers the ones that are a bit different. He's skated across fields of grain, before, in his dreams, or the roofs of his hometown, not quite orientated like reality. Sometimes his parents are there with him, or his siblings; once he dreamed of a picnic on the ice with his family. Nowadays, Isabella more often makes an appearance – as herself, ready to be swept off her feet; as a princess, floating along next to him; as a fellow skater, clinging to him as he shows her his dominion.
In reality, Isabella can barely skate, but in his dreamscape they can share his kingdom of ice together.
When JJ gets back from Russia with another gold, he expects to dream, as usual, of victory, or Isabella, or perhaps, for once, something quieter and stranger with no ice in it at all.
Instead, he dreams of a competition – not any one in particular, the arena being a mishmash and the stands half-empty – and just as his father is about to wish him good luck on his short program, he realizes that someone else is out on the ice, still finishing his own program.
The figure is clothed in black, mesh covering half his torso, crystals glinting in the sharp light. As he turns into a jump, fabric flutters against his side, flaring out as he lands cleanly. Yuuri Katsuki. Is this his short program? JJ can't remember much about it. Eros, right? Something energetic and sexy without being as obscene as Giacometti's performances.
It's okay. It's not up to his level. JJ absently waits for him to finish, and doesn't notice that there's no music playing. He checks the wrist of his costume and tugs slightly where it's rotated too far around, and when he looks up again his breath leaves him.
Katsuki is right there in front of him, his eyes dark and smoky, his hands cupped together and extended so they almost, almost touch JJ. He dances back again, his arms pulling into his chest, but it's long seconds before his gaze leaves JJ's and then only so he can twist back into his dance. It's energetic and loose, free with emotion and playfulness.
Except for fractional moments, he keeps his eyes on JJ, a satisfied smile on his face, all the way until he turns into a spin that's long-limbed and beautiful, and when he sinks into his final pose his back is to JJ. JJ frowns and prepares to call out to him – he won't be ignored–
He wakes with his heart pounding, half-hard. Isabella slumbers peacefully on beside him. He resists the urge to smash his head into his pillow a few dozen times – that would be unseemly and difficult to explain to Isabella – and settles for snuggling closer to her and doing his best to banish the images from his head.
So he had a weird dream about a competitor. He's had strange erotic dreams before – there's still one about his elderly third grade teacher that he wishes he could forget – and it's probably the fault of the jet lag. He'll do his best to forget it and move on.
Why Katsuki, though? He may be Victor's new student (slash boytoy), but he's hardly JJ's biggest competitor this season. Even at Rostelecom, the closest thing he had to competition was the new Russian kid that everyone thinks is going to replace Victor. Though that kid is pretty young and seems to be full of nothing but rage and skating; of course his brain isn't going to be creeping on him.
He writes it off, and doesn't the dream the next night. The night after, he dreams of skating figures in the ice until Isabella calls him off for coffee, and the night after that, he's back to dreaming of his free skate program.
And then:
He's standing on the ice with a roaring crowd, flowers scattered everywhere and a medal heavy on his chest – gold, of course. Nothing less for the king. He bows to one side, then the other, gives them all his trademark grin and JJ-style hands, and it only riles them up more.
He turns once more, scooping up a bunch of flowers as he does, and there is a figure in front of him, facing away. Slim, clothed in black, hair slicked back. Katsuki turns his head over his shoulder, blows him a kiss, and starts to dance.
The crowd is gone. The flowers tumble from his fingers as Katsuki runs his hands downs his sides and they vanish as well. Only the medal remains, a familiar presence on his chest, and Katsuki, who skates away from him, then closer again and to the side to gain momentum for a perfect quad Salchow. As soon as he lands it, he's directing the same smirk as before to JJ, who had unconsciously turned to follow him, and Katsuki gradually skates closer and closer.
Suddenly that lean body is right in front of him, stock-still, and Katsuki pulls him down to his level by the ribbon of his medal. They pause there for a few moments – JJ unable to tug himself away, Katsuki examining him with his warm brown eyes through the strands of hair that have fallen back over his forehead, his smirk gone.
When it returns, it's more of a smile. "I can change the world," he sings, his voice low as his eyelids sink. He breathes in, nice and slow and even, and JJ can hear the implied commas around his name: "JJ, just follow me." He lets go of the ribbon, then, and pushes himself a few feet away. It takes JJ a minute to remember he can straighten up, and he's just about come to his senses and told Katsuki off for stealing his song when he continues in his soft voice, accent light on each syllable: "Catch me if you can." One arm extends towards JJ as he pushes back another foot.
JJ reaches out for it without thinking. Of course he can catch him – he can catch anyone on the ice. Even as he does so, though Katsuki is drifting back, just beyond his grasp. "Just look at me," and it's not a lyric, it's not a request, it's a demand, JJ couldn't tear his gaze away if he wanted to. Not from the easy confidence of Katsuki's smile, not from his eyes crinkling at the corners, not from the small sway of his hips as he shifts his feet. "I am brave enough to fight the enemies, this is who I am, just remember me."
JJ pushes forward – he ought to be able to reach, Katsuki's not that far away – but Katsuki makes a sharp turn and comes around him, one finger tracing across the back of his shoulder blades. "I am the king, JJ, no one can stop me," Katsuki continues, voice slow and deep, and JJ finally grabs his hand and spins to look at him again.
Katsuki smiles. His hand is warm and his fingers curl gently against JJ's palm, the mesh of his gloves soft and delicate. "This who I am–" he sings as JJ pulls him in–
And wakes up as Isabella kicks him in the leg. "Oh, sorry, babe," she mumbles. A few seconds later she pushes herself off the pillow with a confused expression. "JJ? You've got the strangest look on your face. What's wrong?"
He pulls her in, twines his fingers in her hair, and kisses her like he hasn't seen her in a month. She laughs and digs her nails into his back, rucking up his shirt, and returns the kiss with almost as much passion.
Later, when she is satisfied and sleeping again, JJ strokes her hair back from her face and sits up on the edge of the bed.
Okay. Obviously, his brain didn't get the message. He's training hard to show the world his best face for the Grand Prix Final; it's just generating strange things in response. This isn't going to happen again, he tells himself, and closes his eyes. He remembers the crowd cheering for him, the lights flashing as he stands on the top of the podium, and there is no Katsuki in sight.
Good. As the king of skating, he has to have excellent mental control. That's why he never gets the shakes at competitions, or crashes when he makes a mistake. When the fans get JJ, they get the same thing every time, not a gamble on whether he'll be as fantastic as usual or will crumble if by some fluke he falls on his first jump.
And just to be sure to give himself the right thing to focus on – though he's been thinking of doing this since the beginning of the season – when he has a few hours, he visits a jewelry shop with a ring slipped from the silver-colored miniature maple tree Isabella keeps on her dresser. The clerk smiles, smiles, smiles, as she helps him pick out a ring with a large, sparkling diamond. Not one of the gold ones – he'll save that for the wedding, he muses – but silver like all the rest of her jewelry.
He dreams of skating on red ice, of skating to his theme from last year, of Isabella singing his theme song to an arena of fans like it's the national anthem.
By their going-away party he's nearly forgotten about the strange dream of Katsuki, and he certainly doesn't have time to think about it any further. While their family and friends gather around to wish him luck – as if he needs it – he pulls the ring out. Isabella cries with joy and won't stop looking at it for the rest of the evening; people are already asking when their wedding is going to be.
"You're so young," one of Isabella's friends laughs. "Are you really getting married already?"
"Why wait when I'll already have everything I could want? A gold from every major competition, a beautiful, kind, and supportive fiancée...." A host of companies falling at his feet begging him for endorsements, charities asking him to speak or skate for their causes, a song he wrote playing on repeat in everyone's head.
She laughs again. "Well, don't break a leg," she says.
"Yeah, poor Isabella will cry if you can't marry her because you can't win gold–"
"Oh, come on, of course he'll marry her anyway – have you seen them together?"
"Well, yeah, but after making a declaration like that...."
But JJ has no worries like that – who else is going to win gold? The Russian kid who can't keep up with him yet? Giacometti, who's already aging out and has been second-place for years now? That Thai kid who only has one quad? That guy from Kazakhstan who nobody even remembers? Katsuki, who choked so badly on pressure last year that even JJ, who had barely paid him attention, can remember wincing at his terrible falls?
He dreams of the Grand Prix Final; he dreams of performing his programs; he dreams that all of Canada is in the arena with him, the stands infinite, enchanted by him. On the plane trip to Barcelona, he dreams of nothing at all.
He and Isabella have a romantic night out – despite the small hitch of the other skaters not getting his joke when they run into them, they have a delicious dinner that he pays for in a dim and golden restaurant. Before and after that, they wander a bit – Isabella wants to see the Christmas market, and the churches, and the other sights of Barcelona, though clearly she is concerned about affecting his performance tomorrow. "Are you sure you aren't tired?" she asks him more than once. "Let me know when you want to go back. We can always see more of the city later," she tells him. He squeezes her hand and doesn't say anything; he slept plenty on the plane, more than Isabella, and he knows she won't outlast him.
When they finally return to their hotel and go to sleep, she first kisses him, and then the diamond on her ring. "I'll replace it with gold," he tells her, and she smiles and tucks herself against him.
"Of course you will," she whispers. "You're the king of the ice. I know you can do it."
He falls asleep almost instantly. Katsuki is waiting in the arena for him when he starts to dream.
One arm is thrown across his body, clasped against the opposite hip. The other is tucked against his chin. His head is tilted as he considers JJ, the corners of his lips curled up. "Do you really think you're fit to be the king?" he asks.
This time, rather than being swept up in Katsuki's gaze or the way he moves, JJ remains in control of himself. "Of course I am," he says, squaring his shoulders. Medals that weren't there before thump against his chest. "I rule the world. There's no-one who could defeat me now. Even Victor knows that."
Katsuki draws his hand from under his chin to cover his mouth. He laughs, his head bowing as his shoulders shake and his eyes close. "If you're the king," he says, dropping his hand to settle on his hip near the other one, "then I'm the emperor."
JJ snorts. "Your difficulty doesn't even come close to mine. Don't get cocky just because your coach is the former god of the ice who ran away before I could defeat him."
"Oh?" Katsuki raises an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? Difficulty isn't everything. You have to perform."
"And I do. Better than anyone." The crowd chants his name, does his signature pose to cheer him on, screams at the end of every flawless routine because he's shown them such a good time.
"Then why don't you show me?" The arm draped across his chest extends outward again, and Katsuki leans forward to put his hand just within JJ's reach. JJ takes it with no hesitation, and Katsuki's smile only grows as he does so.
"What sort of performance were you looking for?" Whatever it is, he can provide.
Wordlessly, Katsuki leads him to a stone bench that is jutting out of the ice. There's no arena anymore, just ice and mist out into forever. Katsuki lets go of his hand to sit on the bench, one leg crossed high over the other while he leans back on his hands and grasps the back edge with his fingertips. JJ goes to sit next to him – there is room – but that gets him a frown from Katsuki, a sigh, and the shake of a head. Confused, JJ quirks an eyebrow.
Katsuki gestures him over a bit, to which he obliges. Then he reaches out. Before JJ even realizes that he's moved, he's yanking him down by the medals and then pushing him down with one hand on a shoulder.
"Try again."
There's a skate dangling in front of his face. JJ gets it. He shoots Katsuki a grin, then leans forward and pulls on the lace with his teeth. Bet he didn't expect that. Indeed, he hears a gasp from above, and the hand on his shoulder creeps up his neck to his hair as he sits back on his heels to free up his hands for properly loosing up the laces.
Katsuki's fingers tighten as he eases the skate off, as gently as Isabella does for him when she can meet him at the rink, and scratch against his scalp as he presses his lips to the top of Katsuki's ankle. The second skate he pulls into his lap to undo, and then he sets the skates aside and looks back up. Katsuki's eyes are heavy-lidded, and without his smile they look intense.
JJ gets up and leans forward to kiss him. Katsuki makes a sound against his mouth, the gasps again when JJ runs fingers through his hair. As JJ goes in for another, though, Katsuki stops him with a gentle touch at his collar and tilts his head, then says, "Sit down," when JJ doesn't get it.
He sits. The medals clink together as he leans in toward Katsuki again. Katsuki starts to lean in, too, his fingers light against the side of JJ's head, before he suddenly swings himself over JJ's legs. The hand in his hair tightens almost to the point of pain, while the other digs into his shoulder. Katsuki yanks his head back and pushes their lips together, hot and wet. In the span of a moment JJ has gone breathless.
This won't do. He goes for the hand in his hair, first, pulls at it until the fingers relax and he can shove it down onto his other shoulder. He wraps an arm around Katsuki's slim waist and the other around his head and does his best to take control of the kiss, pressing his tongue into Katsuki's mouth and moving his lips and pulling them together until it's Katsuki who's gasping for air.
They break apart when their teeth bump a little too hard. Katsuki has a pretty flush on his face, and he doesn't look quite as focused as before. JJ likes that look. He grins, slides his hands down Katsuki's sides, and pulls him in for another kiss once they've both caught their breath. He digs his fingers into the muscle just above Katsuki's hips as Katsuki's hands slip back off his shoulders and clasp somewhere behind his neck, his forearms trembling slightly where his weight rests on them.
JJ can solve that. He pulls again, harder, until Katsuki's knees slip on the bench and with a startled noise, he falls fully into JJ's lap. It provides wonderful pressure on his groin, and he can't help but to moan and buck up into it, grip Katsuki's hips even more tightly. He closes his eyes and bucks again, dipping his head against Katsuki's shoulder.
He jerks Katsuki even closer, enjoying the moment until suddenly fingers dig hard and painful into the inside of his wrists right above the tendons; by reflex, he lets go. Katsuki shoves them away, and when JJ blinks up at him his eyes are intent again, the pink fading from his cheeks. His lips, red and shining from their kisses, are pressed together. He tips his head to the side and asks, "Is this how you intend to seduce me?"
"What, you don't like it JJ style?"
"For someone who promises to show us how it's done, you're not doing that well. You'll have to try harder if you want to be the king."
JJ doesn't quite get what he means – what's wrong with what he's doing now? – but he's not going to give in to a challenge like this. He meets Katsuki's gaze and picks his hand up off the bench, puts it on one warm calf and squeezes. "You think you can do better? No-one defeats me," he says as he raises the other hand up to Katsuki's cheek.
Katsuki closes his eyes and snorts softly, his breath ghosting across JJ's fingers. He comes willingly into the next kiss – softer, gentler – before he sets his hands on JJ's shoulders again and shoves him backwards.
There's a bed behind the bench now (of course there is, there always was) and it's soft and not too springy. Katsuki starts to crawl over his supine form; he edges himself back at the same time until he's fully on the bed instead of dangling half off the bench. "Hey," he says, low, as Katsuki catches up to him, but then his lips are caught in a kiss again and there's no room for words.
He settles his hands along Katsuki's back as the lips on his move down, to his jaw, to his neck, down to the collar of his costume, where teeth dig in just so, provoking a gasp. Katsuki does it again and then a third time, and he can feel lips smiling against the skin as he lets out a moan and rakes one hand through Katsuki's hair.
He can feel the zipper on the side of his belt release and the fabric relaxing against him. A second later, Katsuki catches the hidden zipper at the front of his collar in his mouth. He pauses to meet JJ's eyes before he begins to pull it down by his teeth, inch by slow inch. His eyes are on JJ the whole time, wide open, and JJ can't look away even as Katsuki sits up on his hips and pushes the shirt open. "Help out?" he asks, one corner of his lips quirking up, and JJ sits up on his elbows so they can pull the shirt off of him together.
He throws it off to the side somewhere as soon as he's finished struggling with the second cuff; the moment he does so, Katsuki is back on him, mouth moving from his neck to his collar and teeth scraping down to one nipple as his thumb presses close to the other. "Oh!" JJ arches his back and digs his hands into Katsuki's shoulder blades, then groans and rolls his hips up – futile, since Katsuki is holding himself above JJ. "C'mon," he pants. Katsuki chuckles and just mouths at his chest again.
So JJ strokes his hands down from his shifting shoulder blades to the hard muscles up of his upper arms, wraps one leg around Katsuki's, and throws them over. Katsuki blinks up at him as he pins his wrists down, then moves in for another long, sloppy kiss. That's better, the hot friction beneath him – and Katsuki's into it, too, wriggling and moaning.
He has to let go of one hand to push himself up, but Katsuki leaves it where it was, pale fingers curling against his palm near his head.
"Look at you," JJ croons, which makes Katsuki's fingers twitch and his eyelids lower a fraction. JJ grinds against him again, and is pleased to see his eyes fully close and the flush spread further down his face.
It's a good look on him, gasping quietly underneath him as they push themselves together. The costume helps; it fits him perfectly, molding to the small dip of his waist, following every line of his arms as they shift against the bedspread, showing off the muscles of his chest as his breath comes more rapidly.
He can keep the top part on, JJ decides. It's a simple matter to get rid of his own trousers and kick them off the bed (his skates don't get in the way, as they vanished a while ago; he never noticed when). Katsuki's are a more difficult problem, what with the way they cling to his hips and his legs until JJ rolls them down past his thighs, at which point, given more ease, they slide off like silk.
JJ leans back to take him in for a moment. Katsuki's hands still rest near his head, though they've stopped twitching; his face has gone calmer and considering, too, watching what JJ has to give him. He's not unaffected, though, with stray hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat and his breathing faster and more shallow than normal. And below the stark black of his top, the silver stones shining and sparkling with every rise and fall of his chest, he's quite hard.
He wraps his hand around him to see the way Katsuki's eyes flutter shut, how his face twists just a bit as his mouth parts on a gasp. All of this beauty in his hands... he strokes once, twice, relishes the way Katsuki shudders and drives one hand back into JJ's hair. It's a pleasant pull, more gentle one moment and harsher the next, but never going too painful.
JJ lets go, and Katsuki must be following him, because he obediently parts his legs to let JJ slide between them. They slip against his sides, damp with sweat, and they're so warm. The little half-skirt shifts as they adjust themselves, and it ends up pressed against JJ's skin. The way it half covers Katsuki is strangely enticing. "Have you ever thought about wearing a real skirt?" he asks, touching Katsuki's thigh just under the hem. "You'd look good in one."
Katsuki just raises an eyebrow in response. He hooks his other leg over JJ's shoulder and pulls him down for another kiss, this one slower than before, and they groan into each other's mouths as they rub against each other. It's good – more than good with Katsuki begging for another kiss as soon as he tries to pull away, fingers trying to get a purchase on his back – but he wants even more, and as he acquiesces to Katsuki's wordless plea, he tugs on his hip for one more adjustment and thrusts inside.
He means to do it slowly – he prides himself on his great self-control – but it's just so satisfying that he pushes faster than intended, barely pausing before withdrawing part-way and shoving in again. Beneath him, Katsuki makes a strangled, high-pitched sound and arches hard, throwing his head back and revealing his neck. JJ digs his teeth into it as he moves once more, pushing as hard as he can. Katsuki claws at his back for a few seconds, before he stops and his hands fall away altogether.
A moment later, JJ looks up, hoping to catch those intense eyes focused on him, or perhaps too far gone to focus on much at all, but what he sees makes him pause instead. Katsuki's eyes are intent, yes, but not in the way JJ expected. He is, in fact, making the most unimpressed face JJ has ever seen someone wear.
"Is this the extent of your eros?" Katsuki asks. His voice is rough around the edges, but it's flat.
"What...?"
"You say you always do your best. If this is your best, I'm disappointed."
JJ laughs. "This too gentle for you? Not kinky enough? Should we have found a pole for you to work yourself up on first?"
Katsuki shakes his head. He slides his leg off JJ's shoulder, then gently pushes at him until, confused, he draws out. "Like this," he says, maneuvering JJ against the headboard (it wasn't there a moment ago, but that doesn't matter). He clambers into JJ's lap and sinks himself down on his cock, slow. When JJ sets hands on his hips, intending to hurry him along, he removes them and settles them higher, on his waist. "There," he says, breathy, once he's settled all the way down. "Now look at me." His hands splay along the sharp curve of JJ's jaw, then brush down his neck to grip his shoulders. "Don't shove, JJ," his voice softening on his name, "and follow me."
The pace Katsuki sets is gentle, and JJ itches to relieve his impatience and make things harder, quicker, but the look on Katsuki's face is enough to stop him. There's the face he wanted to see – focused, pink, long eyelashes fluttering when JJ shifts his fingers. Under his hands, he can feel the dense muscle beneath the fabric, flexing and working as Katsuki moves. JJ leans in and puts his lips to that arching neck, grinning at the hitch it creates in his breath.
It goes on for too long, Katsuki moving too slowly, but he won't be made to beg – no-one defeats him like that – and instead he grits his teeth as the urge to disregard Katsuki and take what he wants gets stronger. It helps to see that Katsuki must be getting close, too; red has spread down his cheeks into his neck, and his collected expression is starting to break, whines coming from his throat.
"Come on," JJ finally grunts into his shoulder when it gets to be too much, the pressure inside him aching to be released. "Come on," he says again, putting the force of his will behind it like this is a jump he can power through.
There's an amused puff of air against his temple. "Was that a request, king JJ?"
JJ growls at the mocking tone and slams his hips up as Katsuki sinks down, and damn if that doesn't– he does it once more, before he at last pushes over; he clutches Katsuki to his chest as his muscles tighten and lock up and God, he's so hot, he can't catch his breath and he's coming–
He pants as he comes down, consciously relaxes his fingers to relieve the ache in his hand and forearm. Katsuki isn't moving away from his chest any, though now the heat is uncomfortable. He's trembling, hips still rocking. JJ pushes their foreheads together and sees that his eyes have gone glassy.
One hand fumbles at his own and pulls it away from the damp fabric of Katsuki's top. "Here," he gasps, guiding it to his cock. JJ closes his fingers and ignores the twinge farther up his arm. It's not long before Katsuki is curling his spine and making high-pitched noises, then digging nails into JJ's skin and pressing even closer as he shudders against him.
Afterward, they just breathe against each for a bit, before Katsuki shuffles off his lap and up next to him, leaning into his shoulder. JJ could sit here for forever – this isn't a competition where they have to have the energy to smile through the kiss-and-cry and the interviews and slogging back through endless hallways.
It's Katsuki who starts to withdraw first. JJ manages to reel him back in for one last kiss by tugging his hair, and it's soft and almost chaste, but then he's slipping away and sliding his legs back over the side of the bed. He's fully-dressed again, skates back on, though his hair is still messed up rather than perfectly slicked back, from JJ running his fingers through it too many times, and his lips are swollen and deep pink.
JJ doesn't know where he's going as he starts to drift off across the ice. He scrambles for his clothes on the bedspread – not his costume, now, but his favorite practice clothes – but by the time he's dressed, Katsuki is almost gone. JJ sees him cast a glance back and lick his lips teasingly, one arm sliding from his ribs down to his hips, but even as JJ skates with all of his considerable power, the fog closes in and he loses sight–
–and wakes up next to Isabella.
He has the presence of mind to get out of the bed without waking her before he locks himself in the bathroom and has a very long shower. Could it be the pressure getting to him? It can't be. He never gets hits with nerves, not since he was thirteen and gave himself an upset stomach. It can't be that he actually desires Katsuki like that, either, he's attractive enough but Isabella is far prettier (and he can't seem to silence the voice that says Isabella has lots of fitted black shirts, could I ask her to comb her hair back without it being weird). Oh, God, what if he's becoming another Giacometti?
By the time a sleepy Isabella tries to open the door, he's been standing at the mirror for a while, splashing his face with cold water every couple of minutes. He can't let this shake him. It's not a big deal, in the scheme of things; so he had a weird dream about a competitor. It's hardly the first time, even if it's never been this weird before. It doesn't mean anything. Katsuki doesn't have the ability to outdo his score, and if he did try to seduce someone on the ice, surely it would be his coach, now that they seem to be engaged or whatever.
"Babe?" Isabella asks when he emerges. "You doing okay? Ready to crown yourself king again?"
He bends down and kisses her. "Yeah," he says. "Just needed a minute to finish going through my routine in my head."
She gives him the world's most gorgeous smile and promises not to take long.
By the time he's almost finished preparing for his short program and about ready to head out onto the ice, he's managed to put the whole thing behind him. Clearly it was just his brain getting some stress relief in, and with all of his focus on the final, it happened to pick one of his competitors that looks kind of like his girlfriend instead of his actual girlfriend. When he falls asleep after winning tomorrow, it will make no such mistake.
(He ignores the part of himself that is relieved to see that Katsuki is not the seductive thing he was in JJ's dreams, but rather a normal skater like he was the last time JJ saw him, and that Katsuki in fact pays him no attention at all.)
He smiles gamely as Altin skates off the ice. Then it's his turn, and the crowd is cheering his name. This is his time to shine, his music playing, his face in everyone's vision, and–
he screws up his combination. It's okay, it's okay – and he trips over his triple axel – he can do this, he can do this–
Isabella presses her hands to her smile, tears in her eyes, as she tells him he can win everything. Then she's gone, and all he can see is everyone else towering above him: Chulanont, smiling, barely even looking his way; Plisetsky looking ready to murder his records while Altin cuts an imposing figure next to him; Giacometti giving him a pitying look.
And Katsuki – Katsuki has one hand on his hip and the other pressed up against his cheek, like he can't believe he's caught JJ's attention at all. Except he's got one eyebrow raised and a tilted smirk on his face. JJ knows, knows that he remembers last night, probably did it just to shake him–
JJ is falling away from them. The pressure from above is unbearable. But he's got a world to rule, a universe; he doesn't have time to give up. He digs himself in and climbs, but even as he does so he can't break away from Katsuki's eyes, the way they burn into him as his smirk only deepens further the higher JJ goes.
He comes back to himself. The crowd is singing to his song; they came here to see him win. He rides their support to the end of the program, though it feels tougher than anything he's ever skated before, then reassures them that he's okay after receiving the worst scores of his career.
And he is okay. Tomorrow can change everything. He'll show Katsuki what a real performance is like.
He makes it through the rest of the day – everyone trying to tell him that things are fine, Isabella crying on his shoulder and telling him over and over that she believes in him, a deluge of messages on social media, his phone blowing up with texts and emails. By the time he goes to bed, he's more exhausted than he's felt in a long time. He quickly falls asleep with the smell of Isabella's perfume around him.
So, naturally, he dreams of the cliff. The other skaters are still there, though most of them are facing away and gathered on the other side, faces turned heavenward. The only one left on his side of the cliff, watching him teeter at the edge from a white-knuckled grip, is Katsuki. After a long moment of looking down at him, Katsuki unfolds one arm and draws his hand from his cheek.
"Who will follow who to the top of the universe?" Katsuki asks, extending his hand but not bending down at all. "Will you be the star, or will it be me?"
"It will be me, of course," JJ grunts out. He pulls himself up another inch.
"After today's performance? You'll have to show us something special tomorrow to make up for it." The disdain is there, strong; still, he keeps his hand out.
JJ grins back at him and shoves up a little bit more. Almost there.... "I'm always special. That's the JJ style."
Katsuki laughs. JJ takes his hand. It's warm, fingers closing around his own, and then everything around them is ice and everyone is taking off. JJ sees the reflection of himself, the king in the ice as he pulls ahead, and doesn't forget Katsuki trailing right behind, ready to blindside him.