Do You Wanna Build A Snowman? - Viktor Nikiforov x Reader

All We Know (Pt.9) - Y.Plizetsky x Reader

Alternative Title:
A Limousine Ride to Remember -or Forget ft. Maximillian Bezanté

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The very moment Maximillian had picked the troublesome duo up from their hotel, he knew something was terribly wrong. It overwhelmed his presumed gratefulness for the Russian Yuri for keeping their current location private and away from the public's prying hands.

That, and that he'd be burdened with whatever it was for the rest of his evening.

From the matching champagne ensembles to the facsimile pouts and poor attempts at glowers, he knew all hell had just broken loose a mere few minutes before he arrived.

Of course he already knew that they had sex. The pair were literally glowing with the invigorating light of satisfaction to the point that the clothes they wore seemed to be intending to compliment their already dazzling aura in a ploy to completely blind those who'd ever see them at the gala tonight.

But that was besides the point.

Yurio also proved to be the impulsive teenager that he is. Making sure to leave marks on what seemed to be the most unnoticeable places on supposedly unblemished skin.

Alas, no matter how discreet the boy had made them seem, the marks were still actually notable for more observant onlookers like Maximillian himself.

The (Y/nationality) skater's coach also knows that it won't go unnoticed by the ones who knew the girl intimately- like their other resident Russian, Viktor.

Whether it be consciously or subconsciously, Maximillian knows that Yuri did what he did with that knowledge in mind.

But that, too, is still besides the point.

His main troubles lie the moment those two stepped inside the limousine he'd be driving to conveniently get the three of them to the designated hotel for the gala safely.

The absence of the media, paparazzis and overly exhilirated fans seemed nothing but mere reminders that he'd be stuck with this very much disagreeable pair clad in pale gold for an entire twenty minute car ride.

He only needed so much as to make it out of the previous hotel's gallery and about a quarter of the required distance he is to take to make it to their next destination to come to the conclusion that 'Driving', 'Conveniently', 'Safely' and #TeamGold in the middle of a lover's quarrel inside a car with him all seemed to be the punchline of a very bad joke.

One or two will be compromised if- and Maximillian thinks who the hell would he be fooling inside his own mind, all four will be compromised if I'd be forced to sit in on another minute of hearing those fools crying over spilt milk.

His grip on the steering wheel considerably tightens and he barely keeps himself from slamming on the breaks, and banging his head on the dashboard. He's honestly considering the idea of demanding whoever it was that's watching them from up above about whatever evil had he ever done that had made him so deserving of a punishment like this.

"It was already 5:30 when it happened, okay? The gala starts at 6, we'd be late anyways so I figured it wouldn't be so much of a problem to steal a couple more minutes." He hears the exasperation and the stilted patience on the normally so cranky Russian teen's voice.

The French coach would've seen this as an improvement should he had not witnessed it in a 15 minute argument that is still yet to cease.

"At least for you it wouldn't be! I still needed to fix my hair and my face to at least look remotely presentable! Heck, you already had a shower and I could barely even lift my ass off the bed! I hadn't even picked up a dress yet!" Cue his charge's indignant retort.