Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10870368.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Victor_Nikiforov/Yuri_Plisetsky, Victor_Nikiforov/Original_Male_Character
      (s)
  Character:
      Victor_Nikiforov, Yuri_Plisetsky
  Additional Tags:
      Dead_Dove:_Do_Not_Eat, Pre-Canon, First_Time, Loss_of_Virginity,
      Jealousy, Dark_Victor_Nikiforov, Wall_Sex, Rimming, Size_Difference,
      Underage_Drinking, Shota
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-10 Words: 5454
****** Gloss ******
by Farasha
Summary
     Yuri can get anything he wants, and that includes Viktor Nikiforov.
Notes
     Mind the tags. What you see is what you get. Extra details in the end
     notes.
     De-anoned in honor of Strikethrough Anniversary 5/29.
     Original prompt: https://yurionicekink.dreamwidth.org/
     881.html?thread=61553#cmt61553
See the end of the work for more notes
The figure skating world thinks of Viktor Nikiforov like this: gracious,
talented, skilled beyond reason, the premiere athlete in the sport. He is
twenty-five years old, has won everything there is to win, and people call him
a legend.
Yuri thinks of Viktor Nikiforov like this: massive pain in the ass, drama
queen, airhead, stupidly sexy. Yuri is twelve going on thirteen, and Viktor is
the first real person he's ever wanted so much it makes his guts twist.
His fantasies were never specific before Viktor. He knows he likes boys,
insofar as he can stand the thought of anyone touching him at all, but it's all
vague images of kissing and touching and a warm, heavy body on top of him.
That all changes at Euros that year, when Yuri steps into a bathroom to find
Viktor making out with Sasha Kolesnikov, the seventeen-year-old bronze medalist
from their rival sporting club in Moscow. Sasha has long hair like Viktor used
to, the dark strands woven through Viktor's fingers; another imitator trying to
catch up with the best. He won't. Yuri has seen Kolesnikov skate, and the only
reason he made the podium at all is because Yuri himself is still in Juniors
and Georgi is out with a stress fracture. Giacometti beat Kolesnikov for the
silver by a mile.
Viktor is backed up against the wall with Sasha pressed against his front.
Viktor has both hands on Sasha's ass, squeezing and swallowing down the breathy
little moans Sasha makes with his mouth.
"Mmm," Viktor says, licking at Sasha's lower lip. "Cherry. My favorite."
Yuri's face burns as he backs out of the bathroom. He pulls the bottom of his
hoodie down to cover the crotch of his pants, his hood low on his face. He
isn't sure why he waits, leaning on the wall, instead of going to find another
bathroom. When Sasha finally stumbles out, his lip gloss smeared, his hair
tangled from Viktor pulling on it, and a dazed look in his eyes, Yuri feels a
surge of vicious hatred that surprises him. Sasha notices him glaring and
smirks. Yuri's eyes get narrower. He'll remember Sasha Kolesnikov for when he
debuts in Seniors, and he's going to crush him.
Viktor emerges a little while later, having taken the time to actually put
himself back together. He notices Yuri too, amusement bright in his eyes.
"Yura," he says, teasing. "Your face is so red! Are you jealous?"
"Like I'd be jealous of a loser like that," Yuri snarls. He is jealous. He
knows he's jealous. But like hell is he going to let Viktor see it.
Viktor ruffles his hair, like Yuri is a little kid. "Maybe next time, hm? See
you on the plane, I have interviews."
Yuri can tell it's a joke, that Viktor isn't taking him seriously, and probably
won't until Yuri debuts in Seniors and knocks him off the top of the podium.
Yuri isn't going to wait until then to have Viktor take him seriously, and he
isn't going to wait to get what he wants, either.
He buys a tube of cherry lip gloss. He thinks about wearing eyeliner, because
everyone always says how pretty his eyes are, but trying it out late one night
only makes him look younger, like a kid who got into his mom's makeup. He
sticks with the lip gloss and starts putting his hair up in a little ponytail
when he practices.
Viktor doesn't seem to notice, beyond what he already notices about Yuri - that
Yuri is good, good enough to be a threat one day, but isn't quite there yet.
Viktor laughs when Yakov yells at Yuri for attempting quads, winking at Yuri
from across the rink.
Yuri remembers that wink for days, his hand shoved down his underwear at night,
imagining Viktor saying cherry, my favorite while he kisses Yuri.
At Worlds, Yuri places silver. He falls on his attempt at a quad loop, and he's
more angry at himself than Yakov is with him. Missing the top of the podium by
a handful of points makes him want to go break things, or get into trouble, or
both.
He settles for getting into trouble, because he has a goal and he's not going
to be swayed from it. He's thirteen now, not a kid anymore, and he's going to
make Viktor notice that.
He doesn't so much ask Yakov's permission to go to the banquet as he does show
up without it, his suit neat, his hair pulled half-up, and his lips sticky with
gloss. He's gotten better at the eyeliner thing, a little hint of it making his
green eyes look even bigger than they do already. He looks in the mirror and
sees pretty and wonders if he's also seeing sexy. Wonders if that's what Viktor
will see.
Worlds are in America, and the servers give him impatient looks and shoo him
away when he asks for champagne. He steals a glass anyway and spends the night
sipping it with his eyes on Viktor, leaving lip gloss prints on the glass. His
skin feels like it's buzzing with anticipation, want curling warm in his chest
- or maybe that's the alcohol, which makes everything look a little too bright
and a little too fuzzy. He's not drunk, he's pretty sure, but he is tipsy
enough to let himself keep running into Viktor, leaning against his side and
looking up at Viktor through his eyelashes. That's supposed to be seductive. He
read it somewhere.
Yakov finally catches him with the champagne and pulls the mostly empty glass
out of his hand. "We aren't in Russia," he growls. "Behave yourself. Viktor,
take Yura back to his room."
Yuri has been puffing himself up to argue, but deflates immediately. Yakov
doesn't know it, but he's just handed Yuri the opportunity he's been looking
for on a silver platter. Still, he can't make it look like he's getting what he
wants, or Yakov might pick someone else to take him upstairs. Someone Yuri
didn't make an effort to look good for.
"Whatever," he snaps, and storms toward the door of the banquet hall. He thinks
he can blame the blush on the champagne and the humiliation of being caught by
Yakov, but he's less sure when Viktor puts his arm around Yuri's shoulders and
tugs him close while they walk to the elevator.
"You know," Viktor says, "Yakov wasn't as bald before he started coaching you."
"He didn't have grey hair before you," Yuri shoots back, looking up at Viktor.
Viktor laughs, squeezing Yuri's shoulder, and Yuri's stomach does a flip. It's
like they're coming back from a party together, Viktor joking with him, bumping
together as they walk. Viktor doesn't act like someone who's been told to put a
rebellious teenager to bed.
"It was a good try," he says, shaking Yuri out of his thoughts.
"What was?"
"That quad. You should have gone for the Salchow, though. You land it more
often in practice."
"I land the loop!"
"Fifty-fifty," Viktor says. "Too much of a gamble for competition. Your Salchow
is seventy-thirty. It's just odds." He winks at Yuri, the way he had weeks ago
in practice. "Next time do the Salchow. Yakov won't be as mad at you if you
land it."
"When I land it," Yuri says, jaw set. He doesn't think Viktor is making fun of
him, but he's never cared enough to give Yuri advice before.
"Of course," Viktor says breezily. Yuri can feel his teeth grinding together.
Viktor still isn't taking him seriously.
He leans on Viktor more than he needs to as they ride the elevator up to their
floor. Half a glass of champagne isn't enough to make him too drunk to walk -
he's Russian - but Viktor is warm and his arm is a strong, heavy weight on
Yuri's shoulders. Yuri will pretend to be falling over if it means they'll keep
touching.
They get to the room and Yuri yawns for effect, leaning his head against
Viktor's chest. Viktor laughs, his voice a low rumble under Yuri's ear.
"Come on, Yura. Where's your room key?"
"Pocket," Yuri says, and doesn't move to get it out. His heart starts beating
faster when Viktor's hand slips into his pocket, so close to touching him
Yuri's skin breaks out in goosebumps.
Viktor swipes them into the room. "Let's get you to bed."
Yuri lets the door shut behind him before he drops the act, grabbing Viktor by
the lapels of his suit and yanking him down, standing on tip-toe to smash their
mouths together.
Viktor inhales through his nose, a startled reaction that just makes Yuri press
closer. He grips Viktor's suit jacket so hard he can feel his fingers cramping
and kisses, clumsy but forceful, until Viktor licks at his lip.
Yuri breaks away to breathe, his lungs feeling tight, and stares up at Viktor.
"Only if you come with me," he says, trying his best for sultry. He thinks it
comes out more demanding, which is fine. He knows what he wants.
Viktor is silent for enough time that Yuri starts to think he's going to walk
away. He shifts closer, one of Viktor's knees going between his thighs, and
presses his whole body against Viktor's front. Then Viktor's tongue comes out
to lick his lip, his mouth curving in a smile.
"Cherry. You were listening."
"I'm better than stupid Kolesnikov," Yuri says, all challenge.
Viktor runs his thumb along one of Yuri's cheekbones. "Then this was for me?"
he asks, meaning the eyeliner.
"I want you," Yuri says.
Viktor doesn't even hesitate. One of his hands slips around the small of Yuri's
back, and the other pulls at Yuri's hair tie, letting his hair loose to fall
around his chin. He leans down and kisses Yuri, sucking the taste of the cherry
lip gloss off his mouth.
Viktor is so much taller than him, he has to pull Yuri up even further on his
toes. It means he has to straddle Viktor's thigh, hard muscle tight between his
legs. It presses on his dick and Yuri lets out a little wavering moan that gets
swallowed up in Viktor's mouth.
Yuri feels shivery and hot, flushing down to his throat. Viktor's tongue slips
into his mouth and he feels dizzy. It's even better than he thought it would
be. He feels like Viktor is surrounding him; one hand spans the breadth of
Yuri's back, and his other hand is tight on the back of Yuri's neck. He's
grinding on Viktor's thigh before he really knows what he's doing. He almost
stops, but decides that would be like backing down, so he does it deliberately,
rolling his whole body against Viktor's like he's trying to crawl inside
Viktor's skin.
Viktor stops kissing him and Yuri gasps, feeling like he can finally draw air
again. His eyes are closed, so he opens them. Viktor's face is so close, his
lips wet with Yuri's lip gloss and those blue eyes watching him with no more
amusement left in them. Now he just looks hungry. It makes Yuri feel like he
can't breathe in the best way.
"What do you want?" Viktor murmurs. He licks the taste of Yuri off his lips
again, and Yuri swallows back a pathetic little noise.
"Everything," he says, putting all the bravado he can into it. "Whatever you
give everyone else who tries to fuck you because they think it'll make them
into you."
"Is that what you're doing?" Viktor asks, a little of that amusement creeping
back into his voice.
Yuri yanks him down by the lapels and bites his lip, hard enough that Viktor
pulls his hair trying to pry him off.
"No," Yuri says, fierce, and fights the grip on his hair so he can bite
Viktor's lip again for good measure. "I don't need to be you. I'm better."
"Brat," Viktor says into his mouth. "If that's what you want, this will need to
come off."
He slides his hand up under the back of Yuri's suit jacket and pulls his shirt
free from his pants. Then his hand is on Yuri's skin, hot like a brand. His
fingertips slide below the waistband of Yuri's slacks.
Yuri finally pries his hands loose from Viktor's lapels, tugging on the sleeves
of his jacket until it slides off his shoulders and puddles on the floor. He
imagines for a second that Viktor might scold him for that, but he doesn't. He
kisses Yuri and holds him close with the hand on his back. Yuri's hands go to
the buttons of his shirt, clumsy and fumbling. He tries to undo one for the
fourth time and makes a petulant, frustrated sound that makes him blush harder.
"Let me," Viktor says. He lets go of Yuri's hair, the steadying hand staying on
the small of his back. His fingers are deft on Yuri's buttons, teasing open
Yuri's shirt to expose pale skin, colored pink by Yuri's blush.
Yuri flushes darker while Viktor looks, his fingertips skimming over Yuri's
chest. He catches one of Yuri's nipples and pinches, making Yuri squirm and
suck his lip between his teeth. He can taste cherry lip gloss and champagne,
and he imagines the latter is from Viktor's mouth. Viktor lets go and moves his
fingers to the other, this time giving it a little twist that draws a noise
from Yuri's throat.
"You're going too slow, old man," Yuri says - more of a gasp, his face flushed
so red he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His nipples ache, and that makes
him even harder than he already is. He wants to feel Viktor all over him when
he wakes up tomorrow, so he can be sure this really happened. That they did
this.
He doesn't expect to be flipped around and pinned against the wall. His breath
huffs out of his chest. Viktor unbuckles Yuri's belt and unzips his pants,
yanking them down Yuri's thighs before he grabs under Yuri's knees and lifts.
Yuri slides up the wall easily, clutching at Viktor's shoulders for balance.
"You're so impatient," Viktor says. He goes down to his knees, and Yuri's chest
seizes tight. He wants so much it feels like he's burning up. Viktor props
Yuri's knees up on his shoulders, putting his face level with Yuri's underwear
and the hard line of his cock. "I thought you wanted me to do everything to
you."
"Do that," Yuri manages. His shoulders are pressed against the wall, one of his
hands fisted in Viktor's hair. The thrill of being above him burns hot in
Yuri's stomach.
"Do what?" Viktor asks, fluttering silver lashes like he's being coy. He leans
forward and blows a puff of hot air over Yuri's dick before sucking at the damp
fabric over the tip.
"Oh fuck, fuck."
"You can have that later, Yura." Viktor smiles like he's stolen something,
secretive and sharp. "Tell me what you want now."
Yuri stares down at him as he mouths the line of Yuri's cock through his
underwear. It makes every part of Yuri's body throb from the beat of his blood
in his ears to the tips of his toes. Viktor is going to make him say it. He's
never said anything like this to anyone, not even joking around with the other
guys in Juniors.
"Put it in your mouth already," he says, his tongue nearly tripping over it,
and bites his lip again as soon as he's done it. He's running on bravado and
lust right now, and Viktor seems to know it.
Viktor's hands slide up his thighs to his ass, catching the waistband of his
underwear and pulling it down. Yuri's cock pops free, wet at the tip and pink
all over. Viktor palms Yuri's ass with both hands, holding Yuri in place. He
licks, a filthy tease from Yuri's balls to the tip of his cock, and waits for
Yuri to take a breath to curse him before he sucks Yuri's cock into his mouth.
And down his throat. In one go.
The breath leaves Yuri in a curse that trails off into an incoherent sound. He
digs his heels into Viktor's back, his shoulders pressed hard against the wall
as his back arches. Viktor's mouth is hot, slick and wet, his throat tight
around the head of Yuri's cock. It's so much better than Yuri's hand, he can't
even stand it.
Viktor isn't playing fair either. He sucks hard, swallowing and making his
throat constrict. His hands knead at the muscle of Yuri's ass, fingers flirting
between his cheeks. Yuri manages to make his eyes open instead of rolling back
in his head and looks down. Viktor's lips are pink around his cock and his eyes
are so hot as he looks up at Yuri, somehow managing to be smug even on his
knees.
Yuri uses the leverage of the wall and his knees on Viktor's shoulders to
thrust clumsily, spitefully hoping Viktor chokes. Instead, his cock seems to
just slide into Viktor's throat like Viktor is devouring him. Viktor's fingers
squeeze on Yuri's ass tight enough to bruise, then creep further in, spreading
him open until fingertips brush against his hole.
Yuri has never touched himself there. He knows how it works in theory, but he
hasn't gotten up the courage. The light brush of Viktor's fingers makes him
come immediately, choked-off sounds trapped between his clenched teeth, heels
drumming on Viktor's back, writhing against the wall as he comes until he feels
like he's going to go blind.
Viktor keeps sucking as Yuri goes soft. It hurts after a couple seconds, like
the painful tug of a sore muscle only in his balls. Yuri yanks at Viktor's hair
and spits unflattering language at him until Viktor pulls off with a wet noise,
laughing. He turns to bite at Yuri's thigh.
"So much for your 'everything,'" he says. Yuri wants to sink his teeth in
Viktor's lip until it bleeds and mess up that perfect face.
"Fuck you, I can go again," he says, still a little shaky. He feels it in his
knees the worst, and in the tremors in his thighs where they're thrown over
Viktor's shoulders. He wonders if Viktor can feel him shaking and hates the
idea.
"Greedy and pushy," Viktor says. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Fuck me," Yuri demands, saying it before he can second guess.
Viktor lets Yuri's knees fall down to his elbows, picking him up like he weighs
nothing. Yuri grabs for him, arms wrapped around Victor's neck, clinging as
Viktor carries him to the bed.
Yuri's breath whooshes out of him when his back hits the mattress. His pants
are gone before he can blink. He's naked, laid out on his hotel room bed. He
feels suddenly, guiltily grateful that Georgi hadn't recovered enough to make
Worlds. Yuri would be rooming with him, but instead he has it to himself.
Viktor crawls on top of him, nudging Yuri's knees apart so he can fit between
them. Yuri's thighs spread wide to let him, and his chest flutters with
something like nervousness. He hopes it doesn't show on his face.
He yanks Viktor down by the tie, kissing him. Viktor laughs into his mouth and
starts to struggle out of his clothes, pausing between layers to kiss Yuri
again. He tastes like Yuri's come, which makes Yuri start to get hard again.
He's made himself come three times in one night before, he wasn't making it up
when he said he could go again.
Yuri has to look when Viktor is naked. He's snuck glances at Viktor in the
shower before, eyes roaming over as much of his pale skin as he can before he
has to look away. This is the first time he's been able to look as long as he
wants. The first time he's been able to touch.
His fingers settle tentatively on Viktor's chest. Viktor makes no move to stop
him, so Yuri keeps going, trailing them over the defined lines of Viktor's
body. He's in incredible shape, sharp lines of lean muscle standing out beneath
his skin. Yuri runs the palm of his hand over Viktor's stomach and stops,
hesitant for the first time all night.
Viktor is big. At least, Yuri thinks he is. It's the first cock Yuri has seen
in person besides his own, and having Viktor next to him makes it obvious he's
not done growing. Yuri takes a breath and touches, his fingers on Viktor's
cock, feeling the differences. He's just as velvety smooth as Yuri is, the
foreskin sliding easily in his grip. It's just that Yuri's fingers can't wrap
as far around as he can with his own.
"That's never going to fit," he says suddenly, and glares when Viktor laughs.
"Sure it will. You'll just have to be patient. I know you're bad at it, but I
think you might kill me in my sleep if I hurt you." Viktor retrieved the pants
he'd tossed aside and dug a tube of something out of the pocket.
"You carry it with you?" Yuri scoffs. "You're kind of a slut, huh?"
Viktor smacks the inside of his thigh, loud enough to make him jump but not
hard enough to really sting.
"Keep being a brat and I'll put you over my knee," Viktor says, and Yuri
swallows. He doesn't know how to feel about that, and settles on ignoring it.
Viktor makes ignoring it easy when he grabs Yuri's dick, his hand slick with
lube, and starts to stroke.
Yuri lets his head fall back on the pillow and has to fight not to close his
eyes at how good it feels. He wants to see it when this happens, not just feel
it. He wants to see the look on Viktor's face.
Right now it's concentration, as he cups Yuri's balls, rolling them in his hand
for a second and then moving his hand lower. His fingertips slide over Yuri's
hole, making him lose all his breath again. It's so sensitive, and Yuri can't
even believe how much he wants this.
Yuri pushes back against Viktor's hand. "Come on, I know how this works."
Viktor looks up at him with that shitty fake smile he gets when he's provoking
people.
"Do you?" he asks, and before Yuri can spit a reply he's been flipped on his
front, Viktor's hands on the cheeks of his ass, spreading him open.
"What are you-" Yuri starts, but the strangled noise that comes out of him next
can't even remotely be counted as a word. Viktor is licking him, his tongue wet
and hot against Yuri's asshole. Yuri goes red from the roots of his hair all
down his chest, burying his face in his arms to try to hold in some of the
high, squeaking sounds he's making. This isn't something he thought about,
wasn't even something he knew about, and for the first time tonight Yuri thinks
maybe he's in over his head.
He's so wet from Viktor's mouth that a finger slides in him easy. Viktor
doesn't stop licking, his tongue wiggling against his finger like he's trying
to put that inside, too. Yuri can't even think. He's short-circuited, doesn't
even notice he's grinding against the bedspread and pushing back against
Viktor's mouth until he comes all over himself and the bed.
Viktor finally lets up with his tongue once he's got two fingers inside Yuri.
He goes so agonizingly slow Yuri feels like he could crawl out of his skin.
Every once in awhile he presses right against something inside that feels like
he's trying to stroke Yuri's cock from the back. The first time he does it,
Yuri yells into the pillow. It's so good and too much at the same time and Yuri
doesn't even know what to do with it.
"This would probably feel better if you hadn't already come twice," Viktor
says, conversational. Yuri hates that he sounds like he isn't affected by this
at all.
"Your fault," he manages, writhing against the bed as Viktor rubs on that spot
like he's trying to make Yuri come again. It just makes him shake, a tremble in
his thighs that he desperately tries to control.
"We could stop," Viktor says. "I don't know if you can take it."
Yuri thinks he has to be doing that on purpose but he can't help but rise to
the bait.
"I can fucking take it," he snaps. He gets his knees under him and sits up,
resting back on his heels. It drives Viktor's fingers in deeper and he bites
his lip on another moan.
"Turn over," Viktor says, pulling his hand away. Yuri doesn't know whether to
be relieved or not. He turns onto his back, trying not to be too obvious about
bracing himself as Viktor gets his cock slick and pulls Yuri toward him by the
hips.
Yuri expects him to just push in, but instead Viktor slides a hand under Yuri's
shoulders and sits him up, straddling Viktor's thighs. His other hand steadies
his cock, the blunt head pressing between Yuri's cheeks, slipping in lube.
"Just the tip to start," Viktor says. His voice is so low that Yuri shivers.
For the first time in a very long time, he isn't sure if he can do something.
Viktor feels even bigger pushed up against him like this.
Yuri doesn't back down, though. He pushes through, just like he always does,
and lets his weight sink down on trembling thighs.
He does stop once Viktor breaches him, because it fucking burns.
"You shithead," he gasps.
"You want it," Viktor says. The hand that was steadying his dick grabs a
handful of Yuri's ass, spreading him open so that another little bit of Viktor
slides inside of him.
"Ow, you fucker." Yuri tips his head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to
breathe.
"You were the one who said you could take it," Viktor reminds him, like an
asshole. Yuri can fucking take it. He's just taking his time.
After a few long breaths of the first couple inches of Viktor in him, the burn
subsides enough that Yuri feels okay taking a little more. Then it hurts all
over again and he stops, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Poor little Yura," Viktor says. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"
Yuri's eyes fly open and he smacks his hand over Viktor's mouth, glaring.
"Don't you dare kiss me with that mouth, I know where it's been." Yuri grits
his teeth and tries to relax. His knees shake from the effort of holding
himself up and Viktor isn't helping. He's moved his other hand to Yuri's ass
too, squeezing it and making Yuri tremble even harder.
He has to get it over with or this is going to take all night, and at some
point someone will come to check on him. It's the thought of getting caught
like this that makes Yuri sink down, clenching his jaw so hard it feels like
his teeth are going to crack. Viktor's dick goes on forever, and Yuri is sure
it must be up in his stomach by the time his ass rests on Viktor's thighs.
"That's good," Viktor says, his voice rough. "Fuck, you're so tight."
"Shut up," Yuri hisses. He tries to flex his thighs, but his muscles feel
watery. It's too much. He aches, feels pried open too far, and he's not sure if
he can even get off like this. But he's not as much of an asshole as Viktor,
and Viktor has gotten him off twice. It's only fair.
He doesn't need to ride after all. Viktor lifts him by the grip on his ass and
lets him fall back down. It punches a strangled moan from Yuri's chest that
turns into a high, embarrassing whimper at the end when Viktor rocks his hips
up. He's being fucked. Viktor is fucking him.
Viktor doesn't try to kiss him on the mouth again, but he does kiss and bite at
Yuri's neck as he moves Yuri up and down on his cock. He doesn't do it hard,
not enough to leave a mark, which Yuri guesses he should be grateful for. He
wants it, though. He wishes everyone could know he seduced Viktor into his bed
when he wasn't even in Seniors yet. He's better than all of the others, the
ones that think some of Viktor's greatness will rub off on them by way of
Viktor's dick. Yuri doesn't need Viktor's greatness. He has his own. He can get
anything he wants, and this just proves it.
"Yura," Viktor says into his neck, a groan that sets all of Yuri's nerves off
at the same time. Somehow Yuri has gotten hard again, between the touch of
Viktor's mouth on him and the huge, burning slide of Viktor's cock in his ass.
He doesn't think he can make himself let go of Viktor to touch himself but he
doesn't think it will even matter. He's so full and Viktor just keeps going,
fucking Yuri like he knows Yuri can take it, like he's letting Yuri call the
shots because Yuri can.
Viktor's rhythm starts to stutter. His fingers tighten on Yuri's ass and he
spreads Yuri open even more, until Yuri can feel the soft skin of his balls
every time he pushes in deep. He's saying things that run over Yuri's ears like
a rush of water, none of it sticking in his head. It doesn't matter. It's
devastating and the best fucking thing Yuri has ever done, and when Viktor
finally, finally comes, Yuri swears he can feel it, warm and filthy inside him.
His own dick twitches, and he writhes in Viktor's lap, finally managing to
untangle his own fingers and touch himself. It takes barely a stroke before
he's coming too, his cock only managing a weak dribble.
Viktor stays inside him until he goes soft, holding Yuri against his chest and
stroking a hand over Yuri's spine. It feels almost better than the sex, being
the utter center of Viktor's attention. Yuri feels like he could drift off like
this, except his chest is still a tangle of adrenaline and disbelief. He's
never felt like this except when he's standing at the top of the podium.
Apparently fucking Viktor is just as good as winning.
It's gross when they finally separate. Yuri feels between his legs and his
fingers come away sticky.
"Ew," he says, and wipes them on Viktor's thigh.
Viktor makes a disgusted noise and rolls off the bed, disappearing into the
bathroom with the sound of running water. A couple seconds later, a washcloth
hits Yuri in the face with a wet smack.
"Asshole!" Yuri yells, and just out of spite, throws the sticky, come-covered
washcloth back at him when he emerges. He's a little disappointed when Viktor
catches it and tosses it into the bathtub in one fluid motion.
"Your pillow talk could be better," Viktor says. He pulls his suit back on,
rumpled but still presentable. Yuri's chest feels weird, like there's a stone
sinking in it.
"Do you run off and leave all the virgins you fuck?" he asks, trying to make it
sound scathing.
Viktor just gives him the look he does when Yuri is trying his patience and
throws Yuri's underwear at him. "I can't sleep in here naked, Yura. But I can
tell Yakov I stayed with you while you slept it off."
"Oh," Yuri says, feeling like an idiot. He doesn't like the way it feels. He
doesn't usually like touching people, but he can't stand the thought of Viktor
leaving right now. "Fine. But you sleep here, not in the fucking chair."
"My back is too valuable to spend the night sleeping in chairs," Viktor says.
He pulls the blankets out from under Yuri and flips them so that the wet spot
Yuri left is toward the foot. Then he turns the lights out and climbs in beside
him.
Yuri grabs one of Viktor's arms and pulls it around his waist. He's never going
to admit how good Viktor feels against him, warm and big enough to wrap Yuri up
in a tangle of his limbs.
"Congratulations on the silver, Yura," Viktor says into his ear, just as Yuri
is drifting off to sleep, sore between his legs but triumphant in his victory.
He throws a sharp, bony elbow into Viktor's ribs and slips off to sleep with
the sound of Viktor calling him a brat in his ear.
End Notes
     Yuri is thirteen at the time of the sex scene and initiates all
     sexual contact. He drinks half a glass of champagne at the banquet
     but is not drunk. Viktor does not stop him or try to talk him out of
     it. Penetration is slightly painful.
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