Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11051448.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Additional Tags:
      Welcome_to_the_Madness_(Yuri!!!_on_Ice), Hotel_Sex, Blow_Jobs, First
      Time, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Collections:
      Yuri_On_Ice_Fans_Weekly_Challenges
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-31 Words: 1977
****** Aftershocks ******
by Ashii_Black_(ashiiblack)
Summary
     Otabek disappears immediately after Yuri's exhibition skate. Yuri
     goes to find out why, but they don't do a whole lot of talking. The
     aftershock of Welcome to the Madness was more than either of them had
     counted on.
Notes
     Written for the music prompt in yurionicefans DW comm weekly
     challenge. I've been wanting to write a WTTM fic since the first few
     screenshots came out, so I gave into the urge. This sort of took on
     its own life, and I'm pretty pleased with what I came up with. Betaed
     by the fantastic Icicle.
     This fic takes place immediately after Yuri's EX skate, so if you
     don't like underage Yuri, don't read.
See the end of the work for more notes
The crowd was ecstatic. Yuri looked around the rink, panting from the
exhaustion of his exhibition skate. He showed those damn pigs exactly what he
was made of. He got to assert his independence from everyone else, Yakov,
Lilia, hell, even his grandfather. Welcome to the Madness was finally something
that was just his. Well, and Otabek's.
Speaking of Otabek, where had he gone? Yuri looked back to the ice where he had
been standing, but he was alone.
Lights continued flashing, reds and blues, as he made his way to the rink exit.
He ignored Yakov and Lilia's yelling, took off his skates, and left the
stadium, not even changing out of his exhibition skate clothes. There was only
one person he wanted to be with right now and if he wasn't at the rink, then
Yuri didn't want to be there anyways.
Had the performance been too much for Otabek? Yuri knew he was being a tease,
but he also knew Otabek didn't want a relationship for whatever stupid and
noble reason. They had grown so close so quickly, but it didn't bother Yuri. He
wanted what he wanted, and the timeline didn't matter.
He put on a pair of sunglasses he had stolen from Viktor - his old sunglasses
were probably going to be auctioned off on ebay before the night was over and
headed over to his hotel, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.
Yuri decided to swing by Otabek's hotel room on the off chance he went back to
the hotel. He wasn't sure why; Yuri had hoped they could go get dinner after
his performance.
He knocked twice and waited. "Otabek?" Yuri berated himself for sounding so
timid.
The door opened slowly. Otabek stood in the doorway, looking completely unlike
himself. He was still in the same outfit as he had been in earlier, but his
hair was disheveled, his face dripping as though he had just been washing his
face. He eyed Yuri with a look that sent a wave of heat straight to Yuri's
groin.
Still, Yuri tried to keep a normal tone to his voice. "You bastard; you left me
alone to listen to Yakov and Lilia."
He stepped through the doorway past Otabek, adjusting his purple jacket so it
fell down his shoulders. He glanced over his shoulder at Otabek, who was still
standing in the doorway and silent, hardly looking at Yuri.
"I showed those assholes just who I am. I'm not a fucking Russian fairy."
Suddenly, Otabek closed the door and turned to Yuri.
He slammed Yuri against the wall of the hotel room in Barcelona, breathing
heavily. Yuri gasped and his eyes widened at the force.
"Yuri - do you even realize what you do to me?" Otabek's tone was low,
practically a growl.
Yuri narrowed his eyes at the other man and traced Otabek's wrist with his
index finger. "Apparently not. Beka, why don't you enlighten me?"
He stared at Otabek. He was a fucking mess. His lips were chapped, pupils
dilated, and he was looking at Yuri as though he were a feast.
"I know you did that skate for yourself, to prove your worth, but you can't
tell me that it wasn't just a little bit for me too?"
Fuck, he was right. Yuri wanted Otabek to take notice of him, to have him
understand that it was okay for him to think about Yuri as a sexual being. Or
maybe it wasn't that eloquent. He just wanted to give Otabek a boner.
Judging by the bulge in Otabek's pants, Yuri had been rather successful.
Yuri, still standing against the wall, grinned. "Maybe. What are you going to
do about it now that I've got your attention?"
He dropped his hands from Otabek's wrists and played with his belt loops.
Otabek grabbed Yuri's hands, pinned them against the wall over his head, and
stepped forward, pressing their lips together.
Yuri turned to fucking putty in Otabek's hands. It was so much hotter than he
had imagined the past few days, so much better than when he had wanked to just
the image of this. The reality of it was complete ecstasy. He never wanted to
leave this hotel room, never wanted to detach from Otabek's body.
He felt Otabek's tongue press past his lips, and Yuri deepened their kiss,
giving as good as he got. Yuri could feel his erection pressing against the
fabric of his already tight pants, and he jutted his hips forward, desperate
for friction against Otabek.
Otabek dropped Yuri's arms and he ran his hands down Yuri's shoulders,
underneath Yuri's jacket, ripping it off and tossing it aside without any
effort. Yuri used his now free hands to finally wrap his arms around Otabek,
feeling the heat of arousal emanating off him.
He didn't want to break the kiss, too afraid that Otabek would be slapped back
to reality, that he would stop and they wouldn't get to continue this past a
kiss and their friendship would be ruined. If they were going to ruin their
friendship, Yuri wanted an orgasm first.
Otabek didn't seem too interested in ending their kiss. His hands slid under
Yuri's flimsy excuse for a shirt and gripped the skin on his back, digging his
fingernails in so hard they were sure to leave marks.
Finally, Yuri had to come up for oxygen. Through gasps, he tried to convey what
he wanted. "Beka - bed."
Otabek drew him into another kiss and walked them the five or six steps it took
to get them to the bed. He pushed Yuri down onto the mattress, lips never
separating.
Normally, Yuri would want to be in charge, to be the instigator, the one
leading the activity, but he was so fucking turned on by this dark and sexy
Otabek, he let himself get devoured. He did, however, grind their cocks
together. The sensation jolted Yuri into moaning.
Otabek ended the kiss, but immediately latched onto Yuri's neck: kissing,
licking, sucking, biting. Yuri was halfway between pleasure and pain and he had
no clue which he'd rather be feeling, so instead he moaned again, thrusting up
and down, desperate to come.
"Fuck, Beka." Yuri's voice was so hoarse and filled with lust that he could
barely recognize his own voice.
Otabek ignored Yuri and pinched his over-sensitive nipple instead. The
sensation trickled down to his dick, and he let out a sob.
"Otabek - please. Touch me."
Finally, Otabek looked back up at him, his expression softer than it had been
minutes before. "Are you sure?"
How could he even ask that? "Yes."
Otabek made quick work of Yuri's button and zipper, sliding down his pants over
his ass. Yuri kicked them off, careful not to kick Otabek in the process. He
glanced down at Yuri's underwear, a pair of satin leopard print hotpants, his
erection poking out through the top and leaking precome; he raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't get this while we were shopping."
Yuri could feel his cheeks turning pink. "I like the way it feels."
The corners of Otabek's lips turned up. "I like the way it looks."
"That's fine, but you need to fucking take them off. Right now."
Otabek's fingers grasped the elastic portion of the underwear and dragged it
down Yuri's legs, revealing Yuri's throbbing erection, hardly deterred by the
sudden cool air.
Yuri watched Otabek, who was looking Yuri up and down with an expression of
arousal. "Do you want to fuck me?"
Otabek removed his own pants and underwear, and Yuri stared at Otabek's cock,
thick and hard. He tried to imagine what that would feel like in his hands, his
mouth, his ass, but before he could get too carried away, Otabek straddled Yuri
and pressed a kiss to his earlobe.
"I would love to fuck you, but neither of us have the stamina for that right
now."
Otabek reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a tube of lotion,
pouring a generous amount into his hand. He reached down and coated both his
and Yuri's dicks in the lotion. Yuri knew Otabek was right. He keened at just
the touch of Otabek's fingers on his cock. He'd never last if Otabek fucked
him.
Instead, Otabek drew his lips to Yuri's again and began thrusting his cock
against Yuri's. With the lotion, they slid against each other easily, but still
allowed for delicious friction.
Yuri had to admit, this was better than anything he could do on his own. Each
time their cocks touched, Yuri let out a small cry, loving every moment.
Soon, they were thrusting so hard that the bed was rocking back and forth,
banging into the wall. Yuri paid it no attention and thrusted up rapidly,
yearning for release. Otabek's rhythm was becoming less and less consistent,
and Yuri could feel his arms trembling.
Yuri could feel his orgasm building, that moment of urgency, right before
complete and utter bliss. Finally, he bit down on Otabek's shoulder and came,
his seed shooting over both of their stomachs.
Despite the fact that he wanted to take a thirty hour nap, he hoisted his legs
in the air and rolled Otabek onto his back. Clearly, Otabek hadn't expected it,
because he gasped and looked at Yuri with confusion.
Yuri gave him a wicked grin and dragged his tongue down Otabek's neck, his
chest, and paused to lap at his own come. He traced his own stomach with his
finger and stuck it in Otabek's mouth, recreating their glove-stripping moment
on the ice in the most explicit way he could think of.
Otabek licked Yuri's finger clean and Yuri continued down, eventually reaching
Otabek's cock. He had never sucked a cock before, but he was a fast learner and
had no intention of letting Otabek know he was inexperienced.
Yuri wrapped his lips around Otabek's prick and licked experimentally around
the head. It tasted of lotion and Yuri's come, but it also felt spongy and
fleshy at the same time. Yuri decided to go head first - literally - and drew
Otabek's cock all the way to the back of his throat.
He could hear Otabek moaning as he bobbed up and down on his cock, careful to
avoid biting him like some stupid virgin. He listened to Otabek's responses as
he moved, and repeated the motions that caused him to moan or gasp. This was
easy. He wrapped his hand around the base of Otabek's dick and pumped him in
time with the motion of his mouth.
Otabek tugged on his hair, and Yuri looked up. His chest was rising and falling
rapidly, and his face was completely red, sweat running down his forehead.
"Yura - I'm about to --"
Yuri swallowed him down and pumped his cock some more, sending the very clear
message that he intended to swallow every bit Otabek gave him.
Soon, salty hot fluid was rushing into Yuri's mouth. He sucked out every bit of
Otabek's orgasm, swallowing once his cock stopped pulsing.
Yuri wiped his mouth, sat up on his knees, and plopped down next to Otabek, who
was still panting with his eyes closed.
Finally giving into the silence, Yuri spoke. "That was amazing."
Otabek opened his right eye and looked at Yuri. "You could say that again."
Yuri shifted his legs and ran his fingers through Otabek's hair, combing it
back to its normal perfection. "Is this something you would want to do - erm -
again?"
"Are my ears deceiving me? Is Yuri Plisetsky nervous about something?"
"Fuck off."
"There's the Yuri I know."
"Answer the goddamn question."
Otabek propped himself up with his elbows and gave Yuri a chaste kiss. "Yes,
this is something I'd like to do again. And again. As many times as you'd
like."
Yuri sighed and rested his head against Otabek's shoulder. "I'd like that,
too."
End Notes
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