Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12084732.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Jean-Jacques_Leroy/Yuri_Plisetsky, Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Yuri_Plisetsky, Jean-Jacques_Leroy, Otabek_Altin
  Additional Tags:
      Pliroy, past_otayuri, past_JJBella, otayuri_break_up, Rimming, Blow_Jobs,
      Unreliable_Narrator, author_thinks_she's_funny_and_she's_probably_not,
      otabek_seems_like_a_bad_guy
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-13 Words: 2483
****** Holy shit! Why does this keep happening to Yuri Plisetsky? ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Yuri's dick is almost as stupid as JJ Leroy and possibly as
     underhanded as Otabek Altin.
Yuri woke up at in a different room that morning, which meant Yakov was losing
his mind. He sat up, immediately. The suits on the floor, the bottle on the
nightstand, the damn whistling - it happened, again. Why did it keep happening?
And who whistled through a hangover the morning after? Yuri tore off the sheet
and stumbled his way to the bathroom, through the door, the steam and ripped
the curtain back. “Hurry up.”
“Easy, easy.” No, he didn't want to take it easy. Yuri wanted a hot shower. He
wanted a Venti black coffee in his gut. And he did not want any more shit from
his coach. “Why don't we share a shower, kitten?”
Okay, fuck the shower. Yuri yanked the curtain shut and stomped as gently as
his head required back into the suite. God, why did this keep happening? “Quit
fucking JJ Leroy.” He shrugged his shirt on. No, that wasn't his shirt. Shit!
“Quit fucking JJ Leroy.” There. Ugh! It was still wet. That was from the idiot
spraying a champagne bottle all over him. Yuri needed his head examined. “Quit
this bullshit.” He had to hurry. The shower was cut off. The whistling was
back. The pants were ridiculously difficult to put on. Shit, Yuri needed to get
out of here and find a to go cup of Starbucks’ finest mercy. “Quit having
stupid-sex.”
“Morning, sunshine.” And there he was, the one thing Yuri wanted to blame for
all this bullshit. Water was beading off his chest. Yuri could imagine licking
them off and biting all that delicious muscle. The towel around his hips was
like a question: How easy is this to pull off? And his smile was like an
answer: Easy, like the person wearing it. “Want a little morning pick-me-up?”
But Yuri wasn't going to do this. “Fuck off JJ.” Where were his shoes? Yuri
didn't want to bend over again. His head was pounding and puking was not high
on his to-do list. JJ just laughed. Just laughed as he sauntered to the bed,
bent down and handed Yuri his shoes. Was there something in Canadian water that
made them immune to hangovers?
“You're welcome.” JJ smiled. There was a knock, as loud as a gunshot. “Ordered
some breakfast. Black coffee, two dry toasts, one banana. Right?” Fuck. Yuri
couldn't do this. Yakov was probably shaking down the entire hotel by now. And
if he found him here? With him? “Come on. You always end up staying for
breakfast.” He didn't need to wink. Those winks were uncalled for. And was he
really going to answer the door like that?
“Get a robe.”
“Too late.” He actually said that after he answered the door. Shit, he probably
winked again when he said that. Seriously, it was more like a facial tick than
a habit.
Yuri rubbed his head. It still didn't help him gain enough IQ points to leave.
What the fuck was even wrong with him? “Where's my phone?”
“Nightstand.” No it wasn't. “Drawer.” Oh. “Here, hydrate, first.” JJ held out a
cold Dasani.
And he was still practically naked. Yuri kept his eyes on the bottle. “Will you
get dressed? Jesus!” He wanted to bite the tattoos now. And those already had
bite marks. Yuri needed out of there, fast.
“I get better tips this way.” Mr Winks brought the tray to the nightstand.
“Drink it all before you get the coffee.”
Yuri did. And, okay, he really needed that. “Shut up while I talk to Yakov,
okay?”
JJ made a zipping motion over his lips. Wow, it only he could keep it that way?
Yuri leaned against the headboard and made the call. “Yakov.” He winced because
that yelling - the old fart had a hard on for a good early morning yell - and
pulled the phone back. “Okay, yeah. Yeah. Calm down. I'm alive. I'll be back in
the room.” JJ rubbed his forefingers together. (What the hell did that mean?)
“None of your business, okay? I'm not a kid. Yeah. Checkout is eleven. I'm
shocked. Yeah. Whatever.” He tossed the phone on the mattress and held up his
hands. “Done. Now I can eat your stupid breakfast.”
JJ watched him bite into the toast. “And then I can eat you.”
God, why did this keep happening?
++
It started in Rome. Yuri was sixteen, it was World’s, and he was this close to
gold. He figured three things stood in his way: Yuuri Katsuki, JJ Leroy, and
Viktor Nikiforov. He forgot one name. He shouldn't have, but Yuri was
blindsided by Otabek Altin.
If it was just a question of being surprised, Yuri would've been happy for him.
If it was only about watching his friend surpass both his free skate and short
program, he would've been the first on his feet to cheer. But it wasn't just a
question of winning.
Barcelona was a promise. Rome was the answer to that promise. Rome was long
drags on a rented Harley down streets preparing god, after practice. Rome was
being backed up against the pockmarked Colosseum walls, getting devoured by wet
kisses and a quick, devestating hand job. Rome was Otabek Altin, with his black
leather and his hot stares, boring through Yuri, right through his skin and
into his blood. He couldn't concentrate, and that was the point. That was the
plan.
Of course is was. Yuri might've been stupid at first, fucking love drunk. Yuri
choked on his short program jumps with pissy little single rotations like he
was a first year junior. Otabek was cool - he was always so cool, wasn't he? -
and took him out for hot chocolate, then took him back to the hotel. Then put
Yuri's dick in his mouth and sucked him off. It was easy to believe Otabek was
making him feel better while Yuri was laid out on his bed. Too easy. “I love
you,” he said. Yuri even believed it. Then he fucked up his free skate. He
fell, twice. Twice. All because Otabek had licked his lips after he hollered,
Davai! That first fall woke him up. That second fall? That second fall pissed
him the fuck off.
He was pissed with that god damn Kazakh fuckboy. He was pissed that he let
himself get played with a little smooth talking bullshit. He didn't love Yuri.
“You like that medal, Kazakhstan?” Yuri crowded him up against the wall at the
banquet. Fuck everyone's stares. Fuck the whispers. Fuck it all. “You proud of
what you did to get it?”
Fucker didn't even apologize for what he did. That dead look in Altin’s eyes
was all Yuri needed to see. “Yeah, yeah I love it, Russia. He was just like
everyone else: he loved that gold medal hanging around his neck. Yuri slammed
the wall and ran out of the room.
Like hell would he let that bastard see him cry. Like fucking hell.
He expected Viktor on the other side of the hotel door, when he heard the
knock. Viktor, or Lilia. That was the only reason he opened it. The only reason
he was willing to show his blotchy, red face. He tried to close it, when he saw
the last person he ever expected.
Tried, and failed. “Hey!” JJ put his foot in the door. “Thought you could use
some company?” The only reason he didn't get a five fingered kiss, was because
of the champagne bottle. Asshole brought a magnum, more than enough to make
Yuri forget all about fuckboy making a loser out of him.
Good enough. “Yeah, fine.”
++
He's fucking gorgeous. Yuri always thought he was, even back when he was in
juniors, scoping out future competition. Jean morherfuckingJacques Leroy was a
tall order of sex on legs, with those broad shoulders, long legs, tight ass and
shit eating grin. Yuri made plenty of spank bank deposits for him. Then again,
he was a kid. He made deposits for the guy who watched the door at Sochi. For
Viktor. Ugh - even Katsudon. But he liked going back to thinking about that JJ
guy. He was loud, stupid, and fuckable. Totally, absolutely fuckable. Even when
he finally met Yuri. Even with the wolf whistles and the ladies first shit. But
lots of people are fuckable. And no one was ever as annoying.
Fuck if he knew why he let JJ paw all over him like this. His hands are so
warm, so big and they're everywhere. So’s his mouth. “You like that, baby?” JJ
is trying to break the world record in ass eating or something. Forty plus
minutes is pretty impressive. And he's not hard to watch; he looks great with
Yuri's balls on his forehead. Hell, the porn on JJ’s laptop would've died after
video one of Yuri didn't put it on autoplay, just for background noise so he
could drown out his talking.
God, Yuri is so wasted.
But he's not going to stop there. No, he's already sucking on Yuri's balls.
Fuck! He laughs when he does that, like it's a joke. And it probably is? Yuri
grabs his hair and makes him stay there a while. He needs to forget about
winning silver to Altin. Fucking Altin.
“Fucking bastard!”
JJ is on top of him in a flash. Kissing him way to hard and it's way too much.
Too much tongue and spit and it's hard to breath when he does that, and he
always does that when he hears that name. Yuri pushes him off. “Hey, fuck off
with that jealous boyfriend shit. You're just a hookup.”
“Know my place and all that, right?”
Yuri rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just do me.”
“Oh, that's not a problem, kitty cat.” The wink is so annoying. So are the
stupid pet names. So is he, for what it's worth. But his body? His mouth? His
dick? Those sort of work. Still, he kills brain cells every time he opens his
face. The tattoos look like a failed IQ test. The dumb highlights, after bob
cut bitch left him, just reinforced the stupid. What the fuck is he even doing
with this guy? Fuck! It's like his dick is out to sabotage his sanity! First it
was fuckboy Altin, breaking his heart, and now it's crazy-ass JJ, breaking his
brain. Why did this keep happening to him? Apparently Yuri could tolerate a lot
of stupid with this body on top of him and that dick murdering him, all night.
God, JJ’s body…
He had to get JJ naked the second he came over, tonight. Had to suck on his
tits. Had to lick those abs as he fell to his knees. And absolutely,
positively, had to suck on that dick.
Yuri would've bet his silver Altin wasn't getting head like that. The kind that
made JJ fuck into Yuri's mouth as he sucked champagne straight from the bottle
and talk so, so dirty in French. God, there outta be a law, only allowing JJ to
say nasty shit in French when he talks.
What the fuck is even wrong with Yuri? JJ could've been reciting his stupid
catholic prayers, for all he knows. His judgment is so fucking off when it
comes to dick.
JJ looks and feels so god-awful hot. He's giving Yuri that steamy let's fuck
face. He's working his hips so his spectacular dick rubs up and down his ass.
And his biceps are within biting range. Yuri might just have another taste.
Yeah, actually, that's a kick-ass idea. “You ready for King JJ, baby?”
Oh, god. “You know what would be really, really good right now?”
“Some JJ Style, all up in your little booty.”
This is an emergency: Yuri's hard on is about to die. “No!” Yuri has to pull
him back when he starts doing that sad I'm not pouting about being rejected
because I expected it pout. “I mean, yes.” He puts his finger in JJ’s grin
before he can do more damage. “Just… keep it in French.”
“But you don't speak French.”
“Exactly.”
JJ is so good at following directions, and suddenly everything coming out of
that mouth sounds so good and nasty, especially when JJ sits up and smacks his
dick right up against Yuri, right there, and snickers at him. It makes Yuri
feel all hot and he's pretty sure his skin’s all red and he wiggles his ass. JJ
slaps it. Once, then twice, then pinches it. Then -
“Oh! Fuck, Yes!”
It's good! So good! Yuri wraps his legs around JJ and wiggles some more, but JJ
can't get any deeper -- because the big crazy asshole! Crazy-ass JJ slammed
balls deep into him and it's so fucking - oh, god! - it's fucking so much -
- and then he moves and it's so fast and hard and fuck fuck fuck! Yuri sobs
because nothing ever, not ever, felt so so so so --
“Fuck!” Yuri can't stop touching himself, and JJ has to smack his hand away,
snarls something in French and now JJ is jacking him off and -- oh, fuck! “Jeh
Jeh!” Yuri feels it everywhere and JJ slams one more time into him and it's too
much. Too fucking much. Always.
Yuri hates the part where he's crying.
++
JJ promised not to be a pain when Yuri allowed him to keep him company during
the walk of shame back to his room. And, of course he was. He said hi to
everyone. The room service maid, the Incest Twins, Japanese snaggletooth boy,
and even Altin.
Yeah. They had to share an elevator with Altin. After JJ said his way-too-loud
’morning! they just all three stood there, waiting for the cables to pull them
to floor nine. Apparently that was Otabek’s floor number, too.
Like Yuri cared.
JJ cleared his throat, and Yuri stared at Otabek's reflection in the metal
panels. It stared right back at him as JJ began to whistle. And when the doors
opened, when it was all over, when Yuri realized Otabek hadn't been this close,
for this long, in more than a year, JJ took his hand as Otabek waited for them
to leave. Yuri didn't turn around but he was pretty sure he didn't hear
footsteps. Otabek didn't get off on this floor.
JJ kissed Yuri's knuckles. That fucking idiot! Why did Yuri keep letting this
shit happen? And he was taking his card key? And opening his hotel room door
like he paid the bill? Then he saw the dopey look on his ridiculously handsome
face. “You okay?” He touched his cheek.
Yuri tried to pull away, but JJ didn't let him. “Yeah. Fine - stop!” He just
wrapped his arms around him and made these weird shushing sounds.
“It’s not okay. But it's going to be.”
Man, what an idiot! But, okay. Maybe it felt good when JJ hugged him. Must've
been a hangover thing.
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