Work Text:
They had the place to themselves for tonight; Victor had been packed off to stay with his parents for a few days. Another year had come and was about to be gone, without any of the drama of some previous years – the one where everyone predicted that the electronic world would have a meltdown, or the one where the country they'd grown up in had just become something new.
He and Lilia didn't need to stay up and watch the clock tick over. They could simply have a nice night and give themselves a break from their workaholic tendencies. No students, no yelling, no critical eyes.
A nice night, but it didn't have to be a quiet one.
Yakov pulled out the box of records and let Lilia choose. With the curtains drawn against the long winter night and their lamps giving the room a warm, fuzzy glow, they sat and listened, for a minute, before Lilia stood and stretched. Yakov admired the curve of her back, the easy movement of her arms above her head, her lovely, long fingers when she offered him a hand.
He took it, and they started to dance. The formal kind of dance they had both learned so long ago, to begin with, and that was nice. But as the music shifted, he saw a spark come into Lilia's eyes, and their movements started to loosen and change until they were dancing something completely different, more lively.
They danced across the room and back, only pausing when they had to change the record. It felt good to be moving to music like this again – not as fun as skating had been, when he was still in his heydey, but more interesting than his usual exercise. Even better to do it with Lilia, to watch her bend her spine and tilt her head and pull him toward the wall until her back was up against it.
He kissed her, then. Nowadays, they usually made love slowly, granted the luxury of time and having to work around the pains of two bodies that had been sacrificed for love and sport, but tonight would be different. Their blood was both up from the dancing, and Lilia, he could tell, was impatient for his touch. She pulled him down a second time, a third, demanding what she wanted. He was only too happy to give it to her in exchange for her hands pressing into his back, sliding up the hem of his shirt.
Lips down her neck, soft and warm, but tonight he didn't want to bother with all of the buttons of her proper blouse. It was too well-fitted to do more than slide his hands up around her waist beneath the fabric and go back to kissing her.
It wasn't long before she took one of his hands and slid it down her hip, her thigh, up beneath the pleats of her skirt. There was just enough room to slip his hand between the fabric of her thick tights and underwear and her hot skin. Her head dipped slightly as he started to touch her, gentle at first, and then thumped against the wall when he found her clit and started to rub it little circles, the way he knew she liked from long experience, the way that had her bucking her hips down into his fingers for a minute before she started to pull at the fabric on her legs.
He lingered for one more kiss before he knelt to help strip the tights off, shimmying them off her feet, careful not to rip them. Lilia said she didn't care one whit what her feet looked like. They were prettier now than they'd been when she was dancing en pointe every night, and secretly Yakov was fond of the marks still left behind, the scars from where she'd poured everything into her gorgeous dancing.
Yakov pressed his mouth to the inside of her knee for a long moment before he stood. As soon as he'd done so, Lilia pulled one leg almost straight up and hooked it on his shoulder and glanced up at him with those green eyes of hers. Still flexible, strong, beautiful. He kissed her knee again and helped her when she went for his belt, shuddered as she pulled him out and stroked a few times.
They had to adjust their limbs a bit to make things easier; they weren't young like they'd been, once, and this probably wasn't the best position for all their pains, now, but they could work with it for one night. The music faded out as he pushed into her, trying not to rush this part too much, and neither of them noticed the sudden lack of background noise. He sighed; Lilia moaned as he eased in, and she was still as perfect for him as ever, hot and tight, her eyes going half-lidded before she pulled on his hips to make him hurry up.
He paused for a second, when he'd slid all the way in, just to collect himself. Then he pulled out and slammed back in, god, she felt so wonderful, and she wasn't complaining in the least about the pace he was setting. He loved watching her during this, how some of her primness fell aside and her eyes went sharper as she went for what she wanted, and tonight that was exactly the same as what he wanted.
When he slid a hand between her legs again, wanting to see her shudder with pleasure and let herself let go for a few minutes, she allowed it for at least a few moments before she batted his hand away. She replaced it with her own and told him, breathless, to concentrate. So he tucked his face against her hair and closed his eyes and concentrated. On keeping her upright without straining her balance or her back, on moving, on how good it felt to be in her.
He could hear her breathing getting harder and harder, felt her hip going slick with sweat beneath his hand, heard the little sounds she made, outside of her usual impeccable control of herself, her spare hand grabbing at the ends of his hair and how wet she was around him—
Yakov thrust into her one last time and lost himself in bliss for a few moments. Bliss and Lilia, Lilia, Lilia, whispering her name against her hair. When he started to come down, all he wanted to do was kiss her and pull her to the couch, but she was still panting under him.
Thoughts still not quite working properly, he pulled out of her and replaced his cock with her fingers. She arched into them; in mute fascination, he watched her face, eyes pinched closed and mouth with a distinct, intense twist to it as she worked her hand. (There were times when he could pull her hand away and finish her off himself, but clearly that would only get him a sharp glare if he tried it now.)
He felt it when she came, the way she clenched his fingers; she went still and bit her lip, silent, before the tension in her eased. When she finally opened her eyes and blinked at him, he kissed her again, softer than before.
Lilia took her leg from his shoulder with a wince, and they both had to spend a moment rolling their shoulders and making sure everything was in its place before they could put their clothes back in order. Yakov, of course, finished first, and looking at Lilia pulling at her tights, had an idea. It was silly, more suited for people half their age, but if she asked he could say it was because of the new year and some of the memories it brought up.
As soon as she was finished fussing with her clothes, he put an arm around her shoulder, let her kiss him once more, and then bent down to scoop her up. Lilia didn't ask, but she did raise an eyebrow at him as he carried her to the couch despite the protests of his back.
The player was right there; they didn't have to get up to change the record for something new, and they settled into together to listen.
This was much better than last year, when they'd both been too sleepy to do more than go to bed at a reasonable time, or the year before, when they'd gone to a tiresome party that had lasted far too long; tonight reminded Yakov of their first New Year's together, when it had snowed hard for a week and they hadn't left their little Moscow apartment – and hardly their bedroom – for three days.
He hadn't thought about that in a while. They hadn't done anything like this in too long. Lilia hummed along to the song and tipped her head further into his shoulder. Yakov tucked an arm around her waist and tried to remember what the lyrics were, wondering if she would be up for something similar tomorrow.