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Description
Yuri & Reader are 18+

You'd only just arrived, yet already you lost track of the time spent watching Yuri lie there. In the center of the rink, the sunlight -glittering in from the skylight- shone directly on his person, giving warmth to his normally pale complexion. Utterly still, hands tucked in the front pocket of his onyx pull-over, ice-skates still tied to his feet; finding him like this was nothing new.

"That doesn't look like practice."

Yuri paid you no mind as you approached the rink, only clicked his tongue, "You should have been here an hour ago."

His deadpan statement elicited a simper from your nostrils. It wasn't until you tip-toed onto the ice in your snow-boots that he allowed an eye to open (admittedly, only half-way), lips turned down in a disgruntled frown. Brows furrowed as you wobbled, but he made no effort to move. Instead, Yuri added another snort,

"The hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're about to fall on your ass. Idiot."

"Ha ha," you mock-laughed, carefully squatting onto the frigid surface, lying on your back.

Obviously, discomfort was quite high, and Yuri's patience was wearing thin watching you wriggle for the perfect place to settle your head. A heavy sigh left his nose, the puckered skin between his brows quivering under intense concentration to keep his lids closed, and the corner of your lips did the same to suppress a grin. It really was too easy to rile him up.

Nearly shoulder to shoulder, silence returned to the rink.

The world of figure skating was never somewhere you belonged, but Yuri was an entirely different story. You watched as he'd grown into such a graceful skater, soaring across the ice, moving so fluidly; both competitively and free. He was captivating to watch -ethereally morphing from an austere disposition to one of peace and tranquility. Yuri always made it look so easy, and if there was ever a moment you dreamed of being as elegant a skater, then it had been he who inspired such a moment.

Unfortunately, you had two left feet and a partner with an unwavering short-temper.

One lesson, and your deciduous dream was doused.

"Yuri?"

His growl didn't go unnoticed, "What?"

Gray clouds passed over the skylight window; the kind of gray clouds that harbored fresh snow, and suddenly you were craving hot cocoa.

"What goes through your mind . . . when you're skating?" Your head tilted to find him already looking at you, albeit perplexed, and you smiled, "Besides trying to be better than everyone else."

The blond male scrutinized ephemerally before jerking away from your winking eye, his head back into it's upright position, and cheeks pink from either the chilled nature of the room or an embarrassing answer. You were hoping for the latter, though full disclosure would be a challenge to acquire.

"Tch, what does it matter?"

"Well, you gotta be thinking about something! No way an angry, small thing like you can look so innocent and contented without thinking of something nice for once."

Yuri lurched upward, leering over you with a vehement glare and a snarling lip, "You're annoying!"

A giggle bubbled passed your lips, undeterred by his outburst. After all, you were more than use to this kind of behavior; it hadn't changed in the decade you'd known him, and you hoped it never would. Even if after all this time he used it as a blockade --a shield to hide the softer, more tender side of him, you weren't a fool to think it hadn't existed at all.

"Oooh, do you think about girls or something?"

It sounded like he choked, and was probably damning the audacity you had to be so blunt. Yuri's eyes widened, his already flushed nose blooming across the rest of his face in crimson. Desperate to regain his composure, he resumed his glare of disgust,

"You're acting like a child. What business is it of yours, anyway, pridurok?"

"C'mon~" You sing-songed, sitting up to nudge his shoulder. "Yurio~ How long have we been friends? I deserve to be the first to know if you have a love---"

Jerked by the collar, your lips forcefully met the vexed Russian's. His eyes were screwed shut, but his mouth had formed perfectly over yours. You had just begun to allow your widened stare to slide close when Yuri abruptly parted from you, his scowl reformed,

"Happy now?"

Description
Yuri & Reader are 18+

You'd only just arrived, yet already you lost track of the time spent watching Yuri lie there. In the center of the rink, the sunlight -glittering in from the skylight- shone directly on his person, giving warmth to his normally pale complexion. Utterly still, hands tucked in the front pocket of his onyx pull-over, ice-skates still tied to his feet; finding him like this was nothing new.

"That doesn't look like practice."

Yuri paid you no mind as you approached the rink, only clicked his tongue, "You should have been here an hour ago."

His deadpan statement elicited a simper from your nostrils. It wasn't until you tip-toed onto the ice in your snow-boots that he allowed an eye to open (admittedly, only half-way), lips turned down in a disgruntled frown. Brows furrowed as you wobbled, but he made no effort to move. Instead, Yuri added another snort,

"The hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're about to fall on your ass. Idiot."

"Ha ha," you mock-laughed, carefully squatting onto the frigid surface, lying on your back.

Obviously, discomfort was quite high, and Yuri's patience was wearing thin watching you wriggle for the perfect place to settle your head. A heavy sigh left his nose, the puckered skin between his brows quivering under intense concentration to keep his lids closed, and the corner of your lips did the same to suppress a grin. It really was too easy to rile him up.

Nearly shoulder to shoulder, silence returned to the rink.

The world of figure skating was never somewhere you belonged, but Yuri was an entirely different story. You watched as he'd grown into such a graceful skater, soaring across the ice, moving so fluidly; both competitively and free. He was captivating to watch -ethereally morphing from an austere disposition to one of peace and tranquility. Yuri always made it look so easy, and if there was ever a moment you dreamed of being as elegant a skater, then it had been he who inspired such a moment.

Unfortunately, you had two left feet and a partner with an unwavering short-temper.

One lesson, and your deciduous dream was doused.

"Yuri?"

His growl didn't go unnoticed, "What?"

Gray clouds passed over the skylight window; the kind of gray clouds that harbored fresh snow, and suddenly you were craving hot cocoa.

"What goes through your mind . . . when you're skating?" Your head tilted to find him already looking at you, albeit perplexed, and you smiled, "Besides trying to be better than everyone else."

The blond male scrutinized ephemerally before jerking away from your winking eye, his head back into it's upright position, and cheeks pink from either the chilled nature of the room or an embarrassing answer. You were hoping for the latter, though full disclosure would be a challenge to acquire.

"Tch, what does it matter?"

"Well, you gotta be thinking about something! No way an angry, small thing like you can look so innocent and contented without thinking of something nice for once."

Yuri lurched upward, leering over you with a vehement glare and a snarling lip, "You're annoying!"

A giggle bubbled passed your lips, undeterred by his outburst. After all, you were more than use to this kind of behavior; it hadn't changed in the decade you'd known him, and you hoped it never would. Even if after all this time he used it as a blockade --a shield to hide the softer, more tender side of him, you weren't a fool to think it hadn't existed at all.

"Oooh, do you think about girls or something?"

It sounded like he choked, and was probably damning the audacity you had to be so blunt. Yuri's eyes widened, his already flushed nose blooming across the rest of his face in crimson. Desperate to regain his composure, he resumed his glare of disgust,

"You're acting like a child. What business is it of yours, anyway, pridurok?"

"C'mon~" You sing-songed, sitting up to nudge his shoulder. "Yurio~ How long have we been friends? I deserve to be the first to know if you have a love---"

Jerked by the collar, your lips forcefully met the vexed Russian's. His eyes were screwed shut, but his mouth had formed perfectly over yours. You had just begun to allow your widened stare to slide close when Yuri abruptly parted from you, his scowl reformed,

"Happy now?"