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Yuuri hoisted his right leg forward to help propel him into a jump. His spin was almost too fast for human eyes to track; limbs and garments blurred, and when he landed it was with perfect precision, the blade of his skate catching deep in the ice and bringing him out of the whir of motion in a smooth glide forward.

Viktor's eyes slid over Yuuri's extended limbs, the perfect curvature of his spine, and the graceful point of his fingers. Yuuri would never believe him if he said it out loud-- Yuuri is devoutly and savagely cruel to himself, after all-- but the outfit Yuuri had on him now, the dark stretch of spandex and mesh crowned with rhinestones... it looked better on him than it ever did on Viktor.

Yuuri carried and moved his limbs like they were miles long. On the ice his arms and legs reached out with a height they didn't have, extending past possibility with pure grace. There was a strength in his legs, a sturdiness and power that Viktor appreciated with every flex of muscle. Never had Viktor seen a body so effortlessly and perfectly balance strength and delicacy. In that slip of a body Yuuri had everything a skater could ever want.

Viktor's eyes kept catching at the curve of Yuuri’s neck, his hip, his mouth.

Everything Viktor could ever want.

Yuuri lifted his arms over his head as he danced. The costume was less like clothes and more like skin; it was black paint over flesh and adorned with diamonds.

Viktor remembered it had felt like skin too; it clung snug and tight, sculpted around thighs, hips, and waist to perfection. He knew exactly how it was caressing Yuuri, exactly how it was molding around his creases and hugging around his curves. Stripes of Yuuri's flesh were visible through the mesh of the costume, taunting.

Viktor adjusted the knot of his tie. It hadn't been so blatantly provocative when Viktor had worn it, right? No. He didn't have the right amount of reserve, didn't have the inward focus and borderline cold composure. And he didn't have the raw heat that bubbled up between neat squares of mesh.

Only Yuuri had that.

Yuuri popped up and landed in a Flying Sit Spin. Viktor watched him twirl, watched the red skirted piece flare above his hip. Viktor wanted to touch him. But he couldn't decide; did he want to slip his fingers under the black, glide between the embellished layer of skin to touch at warm and sensitive flesh? Or did he want to drag his hands over it, palms and fingers and lips sending tremors of muffled sensation through the fabric? Did he want to watch Yuuri’s body writhe and purr, wrapped and trapped in that skin, caressed and cocooned in that skin that used to caress and cocoon Viktor himself?

The music came to a sudden halt. Yuuri was posed on the ice, performance finished, chest heaving. The gold encircling his right ring finger was a spark of fire where it caught the light.

Viktor swallowed, exhaling a hefty breath before walking stiffly to the kiss and cry. He wasn't hard, but he wasn't exactly not hard. It was difficult to nonchalantly adjust himself, especially with all the cameras pointed in his general direction. Would Yuuri take it as a compliment if he felt an erection against his leg when he hugged Viktor?


"Yuuri!" Viktor cooed happily when he reached the edge of the ice, arms outstretched, slacks mostly adjusted. "You did wonderfully!"

The look Yuuri levied in his direction was a look that could kill a man.

Viktor snapped his arms around Yuuri's reluctant body anyway, clasping him tight around the shoulders. He pursed his lips, Apparently someone disagrees that they performed wonderfully.

Sitting and waiting for the score was the usual Disapproving Yuuri Scene-- mouth turned down, eyes locked forward, spine rigid.

"I don't know what you're prickly about," Viktor whispered, glancing at him out the side of his eyes. "It was a beautiful performance."

Dark lashes sifted through cold air as Yuuri blinked, still refusing to turn his gaze. "It wasn't perfect," he responded lowly. "And it needed to be perfect."

Viktor caught his next sentence against his lower lip. Nothing he said would alleviate Yuuri's frustration right now; silence was safer than the threat of irritating him further.

"And the judges have their scores!"

"See," Viktor said as the numbers flashed on the screen. Yuuri was squinting at them. Viktor knew why, but paired with the rest of his demeanor he looked like a delinquent liable to spit at the display.  

Viktor chuckled at the mental imagery, and was rewarded with another side-glare from Yuuri.

"The judges thought you performed wonderfully too," Viktor said, ignoring the pointed stare.

Yuuri turned his gaze away from him.

They left the kiss and cry in silence, Yuuri avoiding the glances of Viktor as well as everyone else. They went back to the locker room, which was dimly lit and quiet. The door fell closed and turned the sharp chatter of the crowd into muffled sounds and voices. Viktor stood in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest. Yuuri pulled his bag out of his locker, immediately withdrawing his glasses and placing them back on his nose. Then he sat, untying his skates with that same frown on his face.

"I know you're--" Viktor cut himself off. He momentarily sealed his lips, attempting to find the right words. "Why are you upset?" he tried.

Yuuri set his skate against the bench, "I already told you."

"Yuuri, let's not think about that," Viktor said, holding out his hands. Yuuri set his other skate aside. "You should take your mind off it; maybe seek a distraction..."


"Anything to disengage from the nega--" Viktor stopped, blinking. "Wait, what?"

Yuuri rose back to his feet, moving to stand in front of Viktor. Emotion burned at the edge of his irises, and in the limited light his stare flashed more crimson than brown, "I said, 'okay'." Yuuri grabbed at Viktor's tie, fingers tightening into a fist around it, and jerked them into a bruising kiss. A surprised breath huffed from Viktor's nose, eyes immediately slamming shut to allow taste and sensation to flood over his lips. Yuuri’s kiss was hard, his lips cold, but there was an urgency in his motion. Before Viktor could properly get his bearings Yuuri was pulling away, loosing the tie from his hold. He blinked. "Can you distract me?" His words were a flat challenge.

Sometimes Yuuri had a way of speaking that made vibrations ripple all the way up Viktor’s spine. It tickled his scalp and rushed blood straight to his cock.

Now was one of those times.

Viktor grabbed Yuuri's shoulders, swung him around in the other direction, and backed him up to the wall just beside the entryway. A small noise escaped Yuuri's chest as he hit the wall, but Viktor was already leaning forward to catch the sound against his lips.

Yuuri's mouth opened, lips parting in needy submission. Viktor could feel the tension drain out of his spine and shoulders, weight sinking against the wall as his hands grappled at Viktor's hips.

Viktor slid his thigh between Yuuri's legs, catching some of his weight and more than some friction. A breath caught in Yuuri's throat.

Viktor’s hand slid over Yuuri's hip, fingers gently pulling at the fabric. It clung to Yuuri's skin, resisted the taunt of Viktor's touch for how perfectly formed it was. He pulled away from Yuuri's kiss, lips falling away to breathe against Yuuri's neck.

"Is this the kind of distraction you're looking for?" he asked, leg edging forward to grind just a bit of extra friction against Yuuri.

Yuuri's head tipped back, extending the line of his neck. He spoke with his hands, tugging at Viktor's belt to urge him forward.

"Do you want to know what I was thinking about during your routine?" he continued, his other hand roaming upward to touch at the flesh-baring mesh of Yuuri's costume. He dropped his head, nipping at the line of Yuuri's neck. He spoke his next words directly against Yuuri's flesh, lips whispering secrets against skin, "I thought of how perfectly this costume suits you."

Yuuri wordlessly thrust his hips forward, a gravelly noise rising from his throat as he felt a broad sweep of friction.

Viktor went on, "I thought about how it wrapped perfectly around your every muscle and curve..." his hands were exploring-- one was dragging soft sensation over the mesh, the other was dipping low to dig fingers into Yuuri's hip.

Yuuri reflexively pressed weight against the touch. A low chuckle rasped in Viktor's throat.

"Did you think about me when you saw me dance in this costume?"

Yuuri's breathing halted.

"Did you imagine peeling it off me or palming me through it like I do now, with you?"

Yuuri's limbs trembled, a breath finally shaking free of his lungs.

"You were young," Viktor mumbled into the shell of Yuuri's ear. "Perhaps you didn't." He kissed him there, then lower, then took the lobe of Yuuri's ear into his mouth.

" Aah-- " Yuuri's hands were gripping tight enough around the leather of Viktor's belt that it audibly strained under his hands.

Viktor pulled his mouth away from Yuuri's ear, this time opting to speak directly over his lips. "But what about now?" he asked in a low whisper. "Have you thought about how you're wearing my second skin as your own?" His hand moved to grope at Yuuri's ass, pert and round beneath the fabric.

Yuuri’s response was husky, "You've worn the same cologne since you were a teenager."

Viktor blinked.

Even this close to his face, Viktor could feel the heat of Yuuri's stare against his own. "The first time I tried it on, I could smell you on me."

A purr of heat was circulating through Viktor's veins, climbing up his legs and coercing his cock into frightening hardness.

"It was difficult," Yuuri continued lowly. "At that time, my idol’s smell all over me... I wanted to jerk myself into orgasm feeling covered in you."

Viktor let out a rough noise. It was hoarse, but weak-- the sound of a man breaking.

Yuuri's voice dropped into the most delicate whisper, "Even after alterations and dry cleaning, the memory leads me to smell you every time I put it on."

The man was now broken.

Viktor dropped to his knees.


Viktor nudged at the bulge of Yuuri's cock through the spandex with his cheek. "I want you to come," he said. He ran his chin and jaw along the outline of Yuuri's length and Yuuri shook beneath him. "Smelling me," Viktor said, "wrapped up in me, wearing my skin."


Viktor mouthed at Yuuri's cock and all of Yuuri's words stopped short. His hand found its way into Viktor's hair, his hips tipped forward, and the elongated exhale that left his chest was nothing short of sinful.

“You’re so beautiful,” Viktor murmured, lips pulling at the spandex around Yuuri’s shaft. He followed the line of Yuuri’s length with his mouth, only stopping once he could discern the puffed edge of his head. “In everything, everywhere, always.” He sucked at the tip of Yuuri’s cock, pulling the fabric into his mouth.

Yuuri groaned, his hips shaking beneath Viktor’s hold and his fingers shaking in Viktor’s hair.

Viktor was getting greedy. Viktor had a habit of getting greedy with Yuuri, of getting hungry and vicious and teetering on the edge of something not entirely rational. He wanted Yuuri to come in those clothes, for his cock to pulse and spurt beneath the tight confines of fabric as Viktor felt the strain and flex under the press of his lips. He wanted Yuuri to come so hard he wilted, and he wanted to peel that outfit off him and make him come again.

Yuuri was perfect and beautiful, and Viktor wanted to worship every centimeter of flesh and give him every ounce of pleasure he deserved.

“Vi-- aah .”

Viktor’s fingers were sliding around Yuuri’s hips and squeezing at his ass. Thick and round, flawless . Viktor dug his fingers under the curve of Yuuri’s cheeks, appreciating the shape. He spread them just a little, just enough to evoke sensations and memories, and Yuuri groaned .

Viktor purred against Yuuri’s cock. He gazed up at Yuuri from under his lashes.

Viktor-- ” Moist lips, flushed cheeks, hair falling out of place and into his eyes.

Viktor sucked at the base, sure to leave the fabric warm and damp.

“Vi--” Yuuri’s fingers flinched in Viktor’s hair.

Viktor’s cock was a mess in his slacks, precum slicking up his briefs and his skin.

Yuuri’s next word was harsh and authoritative, hand clenching hard in Viktor’s hair, “VITYA.”

Viktor froze. The name made his cock throb, but the tone made him listen. Quelling the sound of his own breaths and heart, he could discern the sound of muffled voices. They were growing louder and clearer, approaching.  

“We should go somewhere else,” Yuuri said, his voice close to a whisper.

Viktor nudged at Yuuri’s cock with his cheek, “You sure?” Yuuri’s spine went stiff with a suppressed shiver. “I wouldn’t mind them walking in on us. I wouldn’t even mind them seeing me on my knees with your cock in my mouth.”

“Vik… tor…” The name was a whining chide, and it did nothing to ease the flare of heat in Viktor’s veins.

Footsteps became audible, and no sooner was Viktor on his feet and snatching his coat off the bench than the door was being pushed open.

Viktor swept his coat over Yuuri’s shoulders, the bottom pleats swishing around Yuuri’s legs just as the reporters turned their eyes to them.

“Gentlemen,” Viktor greeted with a bright smile from over Yuuri’s shoulder. “How are you today?” His fingers gently squeezed where they were resting on Yuuri’s shoulders.

“We were hoping to get a word with Katsuki Yuuri,” one of them said, expression hopeful. The other was eyeing Yuuri with concern in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor apologized, same smile still pasted on his face. “But my Yuuri isn’t feeling well today.” Viktor took that opportunity to turn Yuuri around and pick him up. Yuuri was confused but he complied immediately, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck and his legs around his waist. “I’ll be taking him back to the hotel,” Viktor informed them blithely.

“O-Oh,” the first one fumbled. “Alright.”

“I hope you feel better Yuuri-kun!” The other piped up with fervor.

“M-Mm…” Yuuri responded lowly into the curve of Viktor’s neck. “Thank you.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse us,” Viktor said, striding past them and toward the closest exit he remembered.

“Uhm, Yuuri’s skates--”

“I’ll send someone after them later!” Viktor called pleasantly, eyes remaining forward.

“This is almost as embarrassing as being spotted with a boner,” Yuuri mumbled against Viktor’s neck.

“Is it?” Viktor chirped, traversing a long and abandoned hallway at the back of the building. “I think it’s cute!”

Yuuri whispered something in Japanese against Viktor’s skin, then nipped lightly at the flesh. “Mmm…” Viktor hummed, his nerves dancing against his lips. He shoved their bodies against a door to force it open, “You should have just let me finish you off there…” He came to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk and threw up his arm for a cab. His next words were a prod in a low voice, “Especially if you’re going to be embarrassed anyway…”

Yuuri ignored him. “You can let me down,” he said, shifting slightly in Viktor’s hold. Viktor could feel his still-hard cock against his abs.

“Nope,” Viktor told him, keeping his arm wrapped around him tight. Luckily Yuuri was supporting most of his own weight with the hold of his arms and legs; as lithe and small as Yuuri could look, those hard and flexing muscles Viktor loved to appreciate were heavy . Yuuri was not an especially light boy. “There might be photographers or reporters around somewhere. We should stay in-character.”

“We’re not ‘in-character’.”

“We should stay undercover.”

“No one is undercover.”

“We should stay clinging to one another until I throw you onto the bed and make you incapable of smart retorts.”

A small exhale caught in Yuuri’s throat.

“It would be nice if we could get a cab…” Viktor’s breaths were puffing into steam in front of his face.

“You probably want someone to take pictures don’t you…” Yuuri kissed just behind the shell of Viktor’s ear. “Exhibitionist,” he muttered.

Viktor chuckled in an effort to keep his voice normal. “Reporters? Not really. That cute friend of yours, Phichit? Yes, I’d love if he were here to upload this to instagram. It’s very domestic.”

Yuuri pulled the lobe of Viktor’s ear into his mouth and sucked.

Viktor hummed again, fingers drumming in anxious energy over Yuuri’s back. Someone is very defiant today.

At last a cab rolled to a stop in front of them. Viktor was still wearing his trademark smile as he swung open the back door. The way he shoved Yuuri into the backseat certainly could have been done with more grace, but other than a disgruntled noise from Yuuri there were no complaints.

“The Hyatt please,” Viktor told the cabbie.

“You got it.”

Yuuri was still bundled in Viktor’s coat, pulling it tight around himself like a blanket or shield. It was a bit too cute. Viktor was affronted.

He nervously tapped his fingers on the armrest of the car, the sights scrolling by without much to break his lack of attention. He was more focused on the sizzle still lingering in his fingertips. He gave Yuuri a glance out the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t paying any mind to Viktor; his eyes were firm and forward, mouth set in a flat line.

Viktor reached to the side, fingers landing on Yuuri’s thigh. Yuuri jumped.

Viktor couldn’t repress the coy smile that pulled his lips upward, “Whatcha thinking about?”

The eye contact was all Viktor needed. Inky black lashes framed heat ridden irises, the distraction in them visible. “I just want to get out of this outfit,” he answered, sentence bold and plain.

Viktor’s heart stuttered in his chest.

That may have earned them an over-the-shoulder glance from their cabbie, but neither of them paid any mind.

Viktor’s hand slid upward, fingertips playing at the seam where thigh met groin, “I guess it might be uncomfortable...”

Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s hand and pushed it between his legs. Viktor’s palm was immediately met with the firm resistance of Yuuri’s cock. “It’s a bit tight,” Yuuri told him, face blank.

Do not ravish your boyfriend in the backseat of a cab.

Yuuri’s hips writhed in a small undulation, grinding his length against Viktor’s hand, hard . Yuuri’s mouth parted and eyes went foggy as he stared at him.  

Do not ravish your boyfriend in the backseat of a cab.

Viktor’s cock was now blatantly visible through his slacks to anyone who might look. There was no way around it. Viktor fit his palm against the bulge and watched Yuuri’s face stiffen and mouth close to swallow down his noises.

“We’ll get it worked out,” Viktor told him.

“Alright, the Hyatt.”

Viktor lurched forward, suddenly bright and beaming, “Thank you!”

He paid the cabbie with what was probably an excessive tip and then shot from the vehicle. Yuuri’s feet stumbled against pavement as he attempted to find his limbs in the tangle of Viktor’s coat.

“Quickly,” Viktor urged, pulling him along.

“Viktor,” Yuuri wheezed, “slow down.”

“I can’t,” Viktor whisper-hissed behind him. “I have a boner; the slower I walk the more likely someone will notice.”

Yuuri made a small pfft sound with his mouth, like air somehow slipped through his lips without his permission, and then he laughed. Viktor couldn’t help but cast a quick smile over his shoulder, even if the laughter was at his expense.

They cut through the foyer at the center of their hotel on the way to the elevator. It was a common area completely surrounded and entrenched by hotel walls. Rising upward on all sides were dozens and dozens of windows, all towering above and overlooking the foyer. White curtains and dark glass hovered above them sleeplessly. Viktor couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement whenever he strode through.  

They reached the elevator, and Viktor gave the ‘up’ button a few insistent presses before falling into stillness beside Yuuri. Then it dinged and they both moved a little too quickly, almost colliding with the doors as they parted for entry.

For a small moment they stood in stationary silence. The elevator glided upwards, soft piano music drifting above their heads. Yuuri hooked one of his fingers in Viktor’s belt loop, eyes still stationed forward. Viktor reached up and slid his fingers up the nape of Yuuri’s neck and into his hair. Yuuri glanced at him. Viktor glanced back. Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s tie and forced them into a kiss.

The moment their mouths crashed together Viktor pressed Yuuri against the wall, unapologetically grinding his aching length on Yuuri’s thigh. Yuuri sighed against his mouth, lifting his hips.

Viktor scooped Yuuri up, holding him under the thighs so Yuuri could wrap his limbs around him once more. But this time they were kissing, sloppy and open mouthed and uncaring of their surroundings. The elevator dinged and Viktor practically stumbled through it, his weight distribution uneven thanks to the extra body perched on his hips.

His feet hit the thinly carpeted hallway too heavily. The sound echoed as Viktor spared a quarter of a glance to ascertain the location of their room.

Luckily it was only a few staggering steps away. Yuuri was biting at the curve of Viktor’s neck as he hastily forced the keycard into the lock. When the light blinked green Viktor flung them both through it, not even pausing to lock the door behind them. Instead he threw Yuuri on the bed and kicked off his shoes as Yuuri threw aside his coat. Viktor had planned to crawl on top of him, take hold of his mouth in another smothering kiss, but he was given pause.

Yuuri was looking up at him through skewed glasses and tousled bangs, denting the perfectly made bed with his weight splayed across it in all directions. His chest was heaving, his lips were wet and parted, and he looked like he wanted to be devoured .

Viktor swallowed and gently cleared his throat, “Yuuri, please turn around.”

There was a single considering blink before Yuuri shifted his weight, propping himself up on hands and knees. He cast an uncertain glance over his shoulder, “Like this?”

The half skirted portion of Yuuri’s costume was hanging off his hip, revealing the slice of red on the underside of the fabric. Viktor pursed his lips before speaking again, “Yes, that’s fine.”

Viktor approached, lifting and guiding his hands with care. He knew all the seams and zippers of the outfit; it had been on him and on his boyfriend enough that he could unfasten it blind. He dragged the zipper down the back and watched the fabric part over milky smooth skin. The sound was a small vibration, like a shiver running through fabric instead of flesh. Yuuri wasn’t watching Viktor but his face was tense, like he was repressing something.

Viktor’s hand came to a stop at Yuuri’s waist. He withdrew it, careful not to disturb Yuuri’s skin. “Okay,” he said. “You can turn back over now.”

There was a pause.

Eventually he moved, resituating himself to be spread across the comforter once more. He was half sitting, form awkward and unsure of itself. Viktor took a step forward, and when he leaned into Yuuri, Yuuri leaned back. His spine unfurled against the mattress, eyes and chin tilting up to gaze at Viktor. Viktor smiled.

He delicately reached up and lifted Yuuri’s glasses from his face, setting them aside. He wasn’t sure if Yuuri was in one of his compliant moods, but it seemed worth a shot.

Viktor ran his fingers over the dark of the costume and Yuuri shivered. He made it all the way down to the bulge of Yuuri’s length, stroking gentle sensation over the curve with his fingertips.

A small noise tumbled over Yuuri’s lips, “ Ah--

Viktor reached back up and began peeling away the fabric at Yuuri’s left shoulder. “So pretty,” he said, uncovering an expanse of smooth flesh. “Your skin is so pretty.”

If Viktor wasn’t imagining things, Yuuri gave him a small eyeroll. Viktor ignored it; he was too busy looking at the beauty of Yuuri’s collarbone.

“Learn to take compliments,” Viktor directed him, fingers falling back down to glide over the fabric around Yuuri’s waist. He dipped his head low, bringing his mouth just above Yuuri’s nipple. Yuuri tensed, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Viktor smiled, blowing cold air over the rounded pink. Yuuri’s response was a small noise, something between pleading and irritated.

Viktor’s hand was still roaming. He knew when he reached Yuuri’s cock not only for the bulge or the puff of breath from Yuuri’s lungs, but also for the slight damp he could feel collected in the fabric. “Mmm,” Viktor hummed, dragging his fingernail over the curve, “What do we have here…”

Yuuri’s hips jumped.

Wow ,” Viktor said, raising his eyebrows. “Sensitive.”

Yuuri was biting into his lip. He turned his head away from Viktor, eyes closed, “This is your fault.”

“Yes,” Viktor agreed, allowing a few more fingers to tickle sensation over the spandex. He watched Yuuri’s lip quiver under the dig of his teeth. Viktor leaned down, whispering right next to Yuuri’s ear, “I kind of want to see if I can make you come, slow and messy, just like this.”

Yuuri groaned, tipping his hips up in an attempt for more friction.

Viktor withdrew his hand, “But I kind of want to punish you.”

Yuuri made a wounded noise, eyes finally cracking open. With his gaze visible Viktor could see exactly how needy Yuuri was. Needy and agitated .

It was delightful.

“Punishment it is!” Viktor clapped, springing up from the bed.

Yuuri groaned, toes curling, “ Viktor . Don’t make me wait.” His face was absolute impatience, “I’ve been wound up since this morning.”

“Oh?” Viktor cooed, hands on hips. “Is that why you were in such a foul mood?”

Yuuri blinked at him once before his eyes skirted off to the side.

Viktor smirked, “You know I could have helped with that.”


“Excuse me.”

I thought it would help .”

Viktor tipped his head to the side, bangs dusting across his forehead, “Help what?”

Yuuri was very intent on the blank wall to the right of the bed, “My eros.”

Viktor stared down at him. His costume was a splash of dark and glinting against the staunchly white bedspread. It was half peeled from his body, one fleshy shoulder and arm breaking apart the monochrome. He was an exotic abstract painting, alive and breathing, framed by the bed’s edge and the hard carpet.

His limbs fidgeted with repressed energy. Toes and fingers flexed and curled into the comforter. Dark fabric only grew darker where it was still clinging tight around his dripping cock.

Viktor lowered himself onto the bed, hovering over Yuuri and caging him with his shoulders. “You’re always eros,” he whispered.

Yuuri’s mouth parted but he said nothing. He was squirming beneath Viktor, obviously craving sensation but unwilling to force it himself.


Viktor leaned closer, so close that he barely needed a voice because just his breaths were enough, “Tell me what you want, Yuu ri.” He watched feathered dark hair flutter next to Yuuri’s ear, “ How you want.”

Yuuri’s chest was heaving. He whispered something, but Viktor suspected it was in Japanese. It was faint and delicate; too soft for Viktor to attempt translation.

Yuu ri...”

Yuuri’s hand fisted in the comforter, “ Touch me.”

Viktor was feeling insubordinate. “What else?” he asked, tilting his head just enough so his hair would tickle against Yuuri’s skin.

“Please just--”

Viktor narrowed his eyes, voice going flat, “What else.”

Yuuri exhaled in a hard gust, eyes squeezing shut, “ Fuck me .” His breath was thin, “ Please .”

Viktor smiled, his eyes soft even as his voice went dangerous, “ Good boy .” Then he got up.

Yuuri’s hand snapped forward, grabbing Viktor’s tie and halting him in place. Viktor’s eyes widened in surprise, back still bent in a half-lean over Yuuri’s body.

Yuuri looked almost as surprised as Viktor, but there was an edge of desperation to those chocolate eyes that was too delicious to go unnoticed.

Viktor gently took hold of his own tie, tugging at the knot to loosen it. Yuuri watched the motion silently, and when Viktor freed the cloth from his neck Yuuri was obedient enough to let go. Viktor smiled down at him, “Stay still.”

Yuuri appeared to freeze in place. He was apparently desperate enough to be pliable today. Viktor had learned early that Yuuri’s desperation could swing him in either direction, sometimes within the same encounter. He could be immovable and dominant with hard eyes and decisive commands, taking instead of waiting. He could also be soft and needy, malleable, ready to be bent and broken.

Viktor loved them both. He loved every facet like he loved every facet of Yuuri himself.

Viktor laid the tie over Yuuri’s eyes, “Lift your head.” He complied, and Viktor tied the fabric at the back of Yuuri’s skull. This time when he rose upward he was met with no resistance. He stared down at his blindfolded boyfriend, soft lips parted and hips gently writhing.

“Well then,” Viktor said, finally pinching at the buttons of his shirt. “Now we can get started.”

He took his time. Yuuri’s feet were scrabbling against the bedspread, toes digging into the blanket. He was a coil of energy, and it only seemed to grow more intense with the makeshift blindfold over his eyes. Viktor dropped his shirt to the floor, and when his hands dropped to his belt he paused. He decided to leave it for now, and took the step back toward the edge of the bed.

He was careful as he reached over Yuuri; he didn’t want to accidentally brush against his exposed skin or offer any of that contact Yuuri so craved. He finally got a hold around the bunched edged of Yuuri’s costume. Slowly he pulled the fabric from Yuuri’s still-covered shoulder. It was forced inside-out as it rolled off Yuuri’s skin, lifting away from the curve of his elbow and the pale flesh of his forearm. Eventually the motion of the fabric reached Yuuri’s hands, and the mesh dragged over the previously bare fingers, catching faintly at the knuckles.

Yuuri’s fingers trembled as the fabric left him. His chest was bare, stripped to the waist of his costume. “ Mmm ,” Viktor ran his hand over his own neck, alleviating some of his own anxious energy. He loved that little dip in Yuuri’s waist and the small flare into perfectly crafted hips.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, voice unsteady. Gooseflesh was rippling across his chest.

“Right,” Viktor said, taking another step forward. “Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” He then proceeded to pull at Yuuri’s costume with agonizing slowness. He peeled it from his waist past his dancer’s belt, then slowed his motions further when he reached his thighs. He was sure to watch the desperate cling of fabric to skin lift away, the taunting reveal of previously protected flesh now bared for the cold air of the hotel room.

Yuuri reacted to the temperature and fabric shift as if it was a sensation resonating from the center of his limbs. He shivered, biting at his lip and turning his face away. Even with his eyes covered he wanted to guard that expression, wanted to keep his exact level of need away from Viktor eyes.

Viktor finally freed Yuuri’s legs of the costume, and he deposited it on the floor with his own button-down. “Now this,” Viktor said, once again careful as he tugged at Yuuri’s dancer belt. The very first downward pull of fabric revealed the glistening head of Yuuri’s cock. It was flushed dark, wetting his abs in sloppy patterns where it had been pressed against them. Yuuri’s ankle bumped against Viktor’s leg when the dancer’s belt was being shed completely. Yuuri’s face twisting into something part petulant and part angry.

“You’re still wearing pants!?”

Viktor chuckled, walking away from the bed, “In fact I am.”

Yuuri whined something in Japanese.

“If you’re complaining about the unfairness of things, you should consider all my self restraint while looking upon the naked piece of art in front of me.”

Yuuri’s face was red but he was still frowning beneath that blindfold. “No sympathy for a situation you created yourself.”

“Haha, I suppose you’re right.”

Viktor was leaning over, rifling through his overnight bag. When he returned it was with a vibrator and a bottle of lube. The vibrator was small, the girth of two fingers maximum, and smooth. It was meant for prep and titillation more than an overwhelming stretch. Viktor gave himself a pat on the back for having the foresight to pack it.

He clicked open the bottle of lube and was rewarded with a visible shift in Yuuri’s attention. His head tilted, breath gone quiet in his chest. Viktor poured the lube over the vibrator, sure to coat it liberally. Yuuri’s legs opened instinctively, and he reverted to tilting his face away from Viktor’s gaze. Viktor touched the cold object to Yuuri’s entrance and breath hissed into Yuuri’s mouth.

Viktor, ” his chest heaving again. “ Touch me, please.

“Not yet,” Viktor said, nudging the toy forward. Yuuri’s entrance didn’t resist the slick and narrow head. It spread around it easily, opening up for more.

Yuuri groaned, careful to keep his hips from bouncing on the mattress.

Good ,” Viktor purred, inserting the vibrator deeper. It was a shorter toy as well; Viktor had to hold it at the very base to be sure his fingers wouldn’t brush against Yuuri’s cheeks.

God ,” Yuuri rasped, his voice barely his own. His hips were starting to move, attempting to ride the small toy and experience as much friction as possible.

“You’re very ready today,” Viktor said as he set his hand into a rhythm. He started rather gently, fucking into Yuuri with slow and easy strokes to make sure his body had fully adjusted. It became strikingly obvious that it had, the toy slipping in and out of Yuuri with no resistance. Yuuri was moaning, small noises leaving his throat every time he tipped his hips up against the friction. Viktor decided to turn the vibrating function on.

The noise Yuuri made was barely human. His moan congealed into a growl at the back of his throat, scraping from his lungs and vibrating against the walls. His cock was spilling precum constantly, slicking up Yuuri’s skin.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed the name like a prayer. “Viktor please touch me. Please touch me so I can-- aah .” Yuuri’s hips started jerking out of rhythm.

“Oh?” Viktor asked, dipping low. He brought his face so close to Yuuri’s cock that his breath trickled over the gleaming mess of precum, “Are you close?”

Yuuri moaned , lifting his hips as his back arched. Viktor pressed into him a few more times-- once, twice, and as Yuuri’s breaths hitched higher on every exhale Viktor withdrew the vibrator.

Viktor-- ,” the name was broken. Yuuri’s face was broken.

Viktor unbuckled his belt and allowed his slacks to fall to the floor.

“Viktor please --” Yuuri was trembling all over.

Viktor dumped lube over his cock, flinching at the sudden coldness of it. He was glad Yuuri was blindfolded because even the touch of his own hand made him shudder. When he stepped back up to the bed he grabbed Yuuri’s ankles and Yuuri went entirely still.

“Please relax,” Viktor instructed him. That was the only warning he gave before he lined his cock up to Yuuri’s entrance, took a steadying breath, and pushed in.

Yuuri was overwhelming pressure and burning heat. He gripped around Viktor’s shaft, rim flexing, and groaned loud and guttural to the ceiling. Viktor closed all the space between their bodies, bringing himself face to face and chest to chest with Yuuri. He wanted to touch him all over, wanted every piece of his skin to touch every piece of Yuuri’s skin. It was blazing heat and sparking sensation. He waited until Yuuri’s rim ceased in its twitching, then tipped his hips forward, sinking deeper. Yuuri moaned into Viktor’s neck.

Viktor urged his hips forward in slow gyrations. He fucked into Yuuri with a calm reserve he didn’t have, tasting the broken little gasps and moans as they left Yuuri’s lips. He bit at Yuuri’s neck, shoulder, kissed and licked at the little marks his teeth left behind. He forced his hips to drag sensation in long sweeping motions, feeling the grip of friction from his base all the way to his head.

Viktor, Vi--, ah--


“Please,” Yuuri exhaled. “Please don’t stop--”

Yuuri was making ‘I’m going to come’ noises. Yuuri started lifting his hips, groaning.

Viktor hadn’t even touched his cock yet and he was making ‘I’m going to come’ noises.

God ,” Yuuri was panting. His back was climbing into an arch, his fingernails digging crescents into Viktor’s shoulderblades. The small sparks of pain made Viktor’s cock swell. Oh how he wanted to fuck Yuuri delirious. Right here, slow, skin everywhere.

Vi--Vi-- I’m--

He wanted to.

Yes .”

Viktor lowered his head, purring, “I’m sorry, Yuu ri.”

Yuuri’s hands were shaking, trembling hard and fast. It was a telltale sign. Viktor kissed him long and full on the mouth, breathing in a warm kiss as he withdrew his cock.

Yuuri made a noise just short of shouting.

“VIKTOR.” Viktor didn’t have to see Yuuri’s eyes to know there was something akin to rage there.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said again, pulling at Yuuri’s arm. “That must be really frustrating.”

Yuuri was wracked with tremors, his body shaking in a way that looked painful.

“Get up.”

Yuuri stumbled forward, nothing but Viktor’s touch acting as his guide. Viktor led him over to the window that looked down into the shared foyer and then tugged the tie loose from his eyes. It fluttered to the ground as Viktor pushed Yuuri forward, his hands reflexively snapping up to catch himself against the glass.

Yuuri’s wide-eyed blink was reflected in the window. “Vi-Viktor…” Viktor leaned his chin over Yuuri’s shoulder, hands running down over his hips. Yuuri made eye contact with him in the reflection. “What if someone sees?”

Viktor lightly touched against Yuuri’s cock and Yuuri groaned, fingers bowing against the glass. “Our room is dim,” Viktor said in a reasonable voice. “We’re up high…” He let his lips glide over the edge of Yuuri’s ear before whispering, “And so what if someone sees?”

Viktor felt Yuuri’s cock surge beneath his hold, and Yuuri let out a weak and ragged noise as his shoulders shook.

If Viktor had any stimulation at that point in time, Yuuri’s reaction would have probably made him come. He had always suspected Yuuri was a bit of an exhibitionist, but now he could mentally mark that as fact and move on.

“If you ever want to fuck each other senseless in front of the world,” Viktor said, stroking once over Yuuri’s cock and earning a rough growl, “just let me know.”

A thick thread of precum dripped from Yuuri’s cock and onto the carpet.

“You ready?”

Yuuri allowed a very heavy exhale, “Since six this morning.”

Viktor smirked, “Right.” Viktor lined back up to him, touching his cockhead to the puckered flesh of Yuuri’s entrance. It fit in the indent comfortably, as if Yuuri’s body was already settling into relaxation. This time he could watch as Yuuri spread for him, the pink of his cock slowly easing him open and eventually disappearing.

Viktor had to take a long, steadying breath. Yuuri’s rim was flexing and adjusting around his shaft, and Viktor waited until Yuuri’s breathing evened out to move forward. The dive this time felt better, the angle perfect for taking him full to the hilt. Viktor bottomed out and Yuuri’s fingers scraped against the glass, his breathing hard and labored like he was having difficulty taking in air.

Viktor reached around and stroked his cock, earning immediate relaxation and a backward thrust of Yuuri’s weight. Viktor kept one hand steady on Yuuri’s hip and the other around his cock, then found a perfect rhythm for bouncing him forward.

He watched his cock disappear between the perfect curve of Yuuri’s cheeks, diving in and out of hot and slick. It was too much, visually. Viktor had to close his eyes to divert his attention, but then he was assaulted with feeling . The scrape of friction following the motion of Yuuri’s rim, the warm and malleable sensation molding around his cockhead as he moved. And the tiny gasps knocked from Yuuri’s lungs whenever he hit the end of his thrusts…

Viktor was glad Yuuri was sensitive today.

“Vi-- Vi--” Viktor didn’t have time to be surprised; Yuuri came hard and without warning, spurting over his hand and groaning loud enough to make the window vibrate. The tight flex of Yuuri’s entrance around Viktor’s cock made him groan.

God, Viktor-- ” Yuuri’s legs were starting to wobble, his back bowing.

Viktor continued thrusting. But this time he went in search of Yuuri’s prostate, aiming for a small glance of friction over the gland.

“AH.” Yuuri’s eyes flew open and he started squirming, hands hitting against the window.

Viktor held him firmly on his cock.

“Viktor, Viktor it’s too much--”

Viktor tipped his hips, grinding right where he knew he needed too.

Yuuri threw his head back and sobbed . His legs tried to give out but Viktor held him up, grunting as he took on the extra weight. He was oversensitive, overstimulated, and his whole body was fighting off convulsions and the violent urge to slither away from all touch.

Viktor continued stroking over Yuuri’s cock, the length still frighteningly hard.

Rough cries were coughing from Yuuri’s throat. His limbs were shaking out of his control but he was still meeting Viktor’s thrusts in uneven little jerks of his hips.

“You’re doing so good,” Viktor told him, tipping his hips up to meet that prostate again. Yuuri’s noises were all broken, and his legs tried to give out again. “So, so good.” Yuuri sobbed again, the steep curve of his spine only growing steeper. Viktor applied pressure to his prostate for a few quick thrusts in a row-- not head-on but a little more than glancing-- and when he drew friction over the tip of Yuuri’s cock with his thumb he was rewarded with a moan that cracked open into a raw cry.

Yuuri threw his head back, voice rough and loud, “ Vitya .”

Cum poured from Yuuri’s cock, flooding over Viktor’s fingers. He watched Yuuri’s mouth form that name in the reflection, watched the slack-jawed overwhelming intensity of orgasm seize his features. The stuttering pulse of Yuuri’s rim around his shaft wasn’t even needed; Viktor came so hard his vision bleached, surroundings going white and gray and spinning intangibly behind his eyes.

Yuuri was writhing now, far too sensitive and desperate to be free of the sensations. Viktor had to wait for his vision to return before he could let him go; Yuuri was his only anchor to this world and he needed him, needed the heat and the sounds to drag him back to sanity.

When his eyes could discern shapes and his cock had stopped throbbing Viktor staggered backward, less gentle than he intended as he pulled from Yuuri’s body.

Yuuri made a small hissing noise, arms jerking with sensation induced convulsions. He leaned heavily against the glass, legs shaking too violently to hold all his weight. Viktor watched as they started to give, but before he could crumple to the floor Viktor grabbed him around the waist, his own body heavy but not nearly as exhausted as Yuuri’s.

He took a few steadying huffs of breath before chauffeuring Yuuri to bed, pulling down the edge of the comforter so Yuuri could tuck himself beneath it.

He curled against the headboard, face covered as he shook.

Viktor almost limped as he rounded the bed, body still wracked with small convulsions. He slipped in the other side, edging next to Yuuri and resting his chin on his shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, watching Yuuri’s face carefully.

Yuuri rested his head against Viktor’s, expression entirely lax, “ Mhmm .”

Viktor gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before shifting upright. Yuuri melted against Viktor, shoulders sinking in against his chest.

“I bet you’re hungry,” Viktor said, eyes bright as he used all his height to reach for the pamphlet on his bedside table without disturbing Yuuri. Yuuri was nuzzling against Viktor’s chest, warm and wordless. “Let’s see,” Viktor narrated as he flipped open the pamphlet. “Hm hm hmmm… Ah!” He held out his palm, “Could you pass me the phone Yuuri?”

Yuuri smacked against the bedside table a couple times before landing on the phone, then picked up the receiver and lazily handed it to Viktor.

“Push the little button that has the fork and knife please.”

Yuuri squinted at it. It took a long moment of concentration before he decided on one, and when he flopped back onto Viktor’s chest he mumbled, “Large chance that was the wrong button.”

“That’s oka-- Hi!” Viktor smiled at the voice on the other end of the phone, “I’m in room 912 and I’d like some room service?” Yuuri had started drawing small circles on Viktor’s leg with his finger, eyes still closed. “I’d like a slice of rum cake and two cups of coffee. Yes. Yes. Thank you!” He handed the receiver back to Yuuri.

“Rum cake,” Yuuri said with a small grin on his face, placing the receiver back in its cradle. “One of my favorites.”

Viktor buried his nose in Yuuri’s hair, “I know.”


Viktor sent his attention toward the noise, where his phone was blinking on the table. He grabbed it, flicking open the lock screen when he saw the sender. “It’s from Chris,” he informed his sleepy eyed boyfriend.


Viktor read the message out loud, “Thank you, now I know to request adjoining rooms with you every time we travel…”

They went very still. Viktor cautiously slid his gaze to the side, single eyebrow raising to peer at Yuuri. Then Yuuri burst out laughing, the flush over his cheeks and shoulders a perfect rosy glow in the dim lighting. It made Viktor’s chest hurt. This boy always made Viktor’s chest hurt.

There was a firm knock at the door, then a muffled, “Room service!”

Viktor shot from the bed, bounding into the bathroom to wrap himself in a robe before swinging the door wide open, “Hi! That was so fast!”

The employee was small and beaming as she handed over the tray, “Have a nice night!”

“You too!” he called before shutting the door. “M mm this coffee smells amazing.” It took some resituating, but soon Viktor was sitting back in bed, coffee in his hand and Katsudon tucked against his side. Yuuri’s knees were pulled up to his chest, plate of rum cake balancing there precariously. He took the first bite and mewled, cheeks pinching the corners of his eyes as he smiled.

Viktor buried his face in Yuuri’s neck again.

His chest hurt. He loved the way his chest hurt.