Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10594062.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Otabek_Altin, Yuri_Plisetsky
  Additional Tags:
      Hand_Jobs, Grinding, Frottage, Making_Out, Consensual_Underage_Sex,
      Nicknames, Welcome_to_the_Madness
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-11 Words: 2787
****** It's Crazy ******
by novocaine_sea
Summary
     Otabek watches Yuri's exhibition piece, "Welcome to the Madness", and
     is feeling inspired to act on the emotions that have bubbled up in
     the past four days.
Notes
     I'm not over the preview for Welcome to the Madness, I'm never going
     to be over it, I'm not over that make up, the outfit, FINGER GUNS.
     So yeah, this is what I've got out of it. Porn. Enjoy. This was
     supposed to be 1500 words but here I AM......
See the end of the work for more notes
They had been friends for four days.  Four days . They came to Barcelona and
Otabek knew this was his chance and he wasn’t going to blow it. Then, Otabek
thought he had fucked up big time, telling Yuri fucking Plisetsky that he had
the ‘eyes of a soldier.’ Who says that? Otabek did. But Yuri… Yuri loved it. He
looked at Otabek with such awe that Otabek thought that maybe, just maybe, he
hadn’t blown it.
And now here he stood on the sidelines, leaning forward on the metal railing
and watching Yuri take his place on the ice. Yuri was clad in a bedazzled
purple blazer, black leggings adorning even more sparkling jewels, and thick
black sunglasses that look a little like Otabek’s. His hair is pulled into a
little half bun in the back and Otabek can’t help but think of how adorable
Yuri looked.
And then he starts skating.
The heavy guitar and basses kicked in and Yuri immediately lifted his head,
taking off across the ice. This routine was high energy, much like his free
skate had been but it was… different. Yuri looked like he was having  fun  even
if his face was stoic. The shades covered jade green eyes that Otabek had come
to love in the time they had spent together in Barcelona.
Otabek licked his lips as he watched Yuri’s fluid movements. He felt himself
walking as Yuri stripped his jacket off seductively, way too seductive for a
fifteen year old, and threw it away from him, continuing to skate. Otabek was
actually impressed that Yakov had let his most precious student to something
so… risque.
Yuri did it justice, though. The way he moved was like liquid, it was so
beautiful, even to the harsh beat of the drum and the rough strums of the
guitars and basses. And then there were the screaming vocals but Otabek
wouldn’t expect anything less from Yuri.
Otabek’s eyes were glued to the large slits in the back of Yuri’s tank top,
pale skin shining with sweat and from the lights bouncing off of the ice. His
blonde hair was still perfect and as he turned towards Otabek, a smirk
stretched onto his face. The glasses came off his face like a whip and he
launched them right at Otabek.
Otabek was unsure how Yuri knew he was standing there and they just missed
reaching him, skidding him on the ice.
Yuri spun towards him again, this time locking eyes with him and for whatever
reason, Otabek lifted his arm up. He pointed a finger-gun at his friend, heart
racing, pants tightened as he pressed the pretend trigger down to hit the X
shimmering on Yuri’s chest. Yuri fell back, unbeknownst to Otabek, gracefully
gliding across the ice. His shirt rode up past his nipples and Otabek sucked in
a breath.
He couldn’t go back onto the ice after this, not with a visible bulge and
sweat-lined temples. He was clearly turned on. He couldn’t face anybody after
this. Except Yuri. Only for Yuri would he go onto the ice and stand with
everybody. He would have to find some excuse as to why his tight leather pants
were pushed out in front. It definitely didn’t have to do with the way Yuri’s
own  pants were hugging his ass so deliciously that he could barely think about
anything else. Let alone the sight of Yuri’s chest.
But he had to control himself. Because Yuri was still fifteen. And his friend.
And they had just met, or re-met.
Otabek took a deep breath and gave Yuri a thunderous round of applause that was
well deserved. Yuri was beaming on the ice, almost as bright as the ice beneath
his skates. He was  happy . Yuri’s happiness was more important to Otabek than
anything else. He watched as his friend skated around the perimeter of the
rink, waving to the crowd and collecting his sunglasses and blazer. When he
skated by Otabek, who’s face flared up red when he caught the purple that
framed Yuri’s eyes, making them pop, Yuri winked at him. A smirked curled on
his lips and then he had to go to the kiss and cry area.
Otabek took another deep breath. He needed to get Yuri alone to tell him how
much he had enjoyed that performance. And then he needed to get the fuck out of
there to take care of his growing  problem.
The six of the Grand Prix Finalists lined up at the end, Otabek squished
between Yuri and JJ. Otabek forced himself to contain himself and draped a
heavy arm around Yuri’s shoulders, feeling Yuri’s own lithe arm snaking around
his waist. All of them aside from Victor and Yuuri were clad in some form of
black and purple, which was aesthetically pleasing. Otabek was only focused on
Yuri, though, looking at the way his blonde hair fell over his shoulders. He
had taken it out of the bun and let it loose. Otabek wanted to run his fingers
through it.
“Otabek~” JJ hummed in his ear and Otabek looked up at him, glaring. He already
knew what he was going to say.
“Do not.” Otabek growled at him. JJ’s eyes flicked down to Otabek’s crotch,
still semi-hard, and he grinned before turning his attention to the crowd with
a wide grin. Otabek set his lips into a hard grimace and tightened the arm he
had around Yuri. Yuri’s expression matched his, unamused, as Katsuki laughed
cheerily in his ear.
Eventually the flashes of cameras stopped and they were allowed to go to the
locker rooms, Otabek and Yuri hanging back from the crowd. JJ was trying to
talk to everybody else but Phichit had stolen Yuuri away, Chris and Victor
seeming uninterested to whatever JJ was babbling about. Otabek was about to
turn into the locker rooms with everyone else when he was forced into the
bathroom by Yuri.
The kid was stronger than he looked.
The door swung shut behind them and Otabek’s back hit the wall. Yuri was only
two inches shorter and he still had to look up at Otabek to look him in the
eye, but he felt so much taller in that moment.
“...Hi.” Otabek mumbled to him. They were close; Otabek could feel the heat
radiating off Yuri’s body. He was still sweating from his exhibition program.
“Did you like it?” Yuri asked hastily and with a wide grin. Otabek noticed that
these kinds of smiles were rare for him. He was glad that he was one of the
only people they reserved for.
Otabek cocked an eyebrow. “Liked what?”
Yuri shoved his arms and exhaled angrily through his nose. “My exhibition
piece, asshole!”
Otabek chuckled softly and when he glanced at Yuri, the boy was blushing. “I
loved it. You looked awesome out there.”
“I did, right!” Yuri laughed and then leaned on the wall next to Otabek, head
lolling onto Otabek’s shoulder. With a sigh he continued. “I wish Yakov would
let me do my own shit for programs. It would be more fun if I could do that.”
Otabek nudged him. “You probably wouldn’t win that way.”
“Shut up!” Yuri snapped and tilted his head back to the wall. “I can win no
matter what.”
“You barely won this year.” Otabek pointed out.
“You wanna fight, Altin?” Yuri bared his teeth. Otabek pushed himself off the
wall and stood in front of him, pressing his arm to the tiles above Yuri’s
head. Yuri’s eyes widened a little bit and Otabek’s smirk mirrored Yuri’s from
earlier.
Otabek leaned in close and whispered hotly in his ear. “I’d love to fight you,
Plisetsky.”
Yuri’s breath hitched in his throat. Otabek should’ve taken note as to how
close they were. Their noses were touching and Yuri’s breath filtered over
Otabek’s lips. Otabek’s parted to let his tongue snake over his chapped bottom
lip and he saw Yuri’s eyes dart down to watch.
Then Yuri was kissing him, all in the blink of an eye. His lips were plump and
warm and wet as well as insistent. Otabek couldn’t tell if Yuri had ever been
kissed before but he didn’t care; he took Yuri into his arms, winding them
around his waist to press Yuri flush against his body. Yuri whimpered as their
lips moved against each other, gloved hands coming back to twist into the top
of Otabek’s hair. Otabek had gel in his hair to keep it in place but Yuri
fought through the hardness of it in order to run his fingers through dark
brown locks.
Their lips smacked together almost uncomfortably at first but Yuri caught on
quickly, taking Otabek’s guidance in tilting his head slightly to the side to
make the kiss more pleasurable. Yuri whimpered against his lips and his
eyelashes fluttered against pink cheeks, Otabek letting his own brown eyes slip
closed. He tightened his arms around Yuri’s waist and lifted him up off the
ground, Yuri instinctively wrapping his legs around Otabek’s hips. A yelp had
accompanied that and he pulled back to look at his friend.
“Is this… okay?”
Otabek huffed out a laugh. “Now you ask?”
Yuri turned his head away bashfully. Otabek kissed his cheek, lips trailing
down his jaw, nipping playfully. “Kiss me, Yuri.”
One of Yuri’s hands came to grip his chin and their lips were against each
other once more, just as rough and passionate as the first time. This time
however Yuri was bold and his tongue licked at the seams of Otabek’s lips,
begging to be let in. Otabek would never deny himself the pleasure and he
parted his lips, Yuri tentatively snaking his tongue inside. Otabek moved his
tongue against Yuri, showing him what to do.
Yuri was a fast learner as always, tongue roaming over Otabek’s teeth, tracing
each one carefully. Otabek’s grip on him faltered a bit and he shifted to have
a better hold on him. Their teeth clashed together and nose bumped.
Yuri pulled away to apologize but Otabek chased him, pressing their lips
together to shut him up. He didn’t care. All he wanted was Yuri’s lips on his,
their bodies rubbing together, and his hand on Yuri’s ass. And that’s what he
did. Yuri was still clad in the form fitting pants that were possibly glued to
his legs. They shaped his ass perfectly and Otabek took his cheeks into his
hand and squeezed. Yuri moaned into his mouth and his lips wrapped around
Otabek’s tongue to suck it into his mouth.
Otabek had never experienced something so erotic.
Otabek roughly shoved Yuri against the wall and squeezed his ass, rocking his
hips into Yuri’s at this point. Yuri pulled away to pant against his lips.
“Otabek… Otabek…  Beka …” A gravely moan came from deep within Yuri’s throat
and Otabek felt his erection jerk inside his leather jeans. He didn’t expect
his name to be moaned so deeply or the nickname. He liked it, loved it even.
And from the bulge inside of Yuri’s leggings Otabek could tell that he liked it
too.
“Yura…” Otabek moaned on the spot, muffled into Yuri’s neck. Yuri licked his
lips and began to grind his hips back into Otabek’s. He dipped his hips down
low and then ground up. Otabek didn’t know where he learned that move but their
dicks were right up against each other, sending sparks up Otabek’s stiff spine.
“Fuck.” Yuri said. Otabek could tell Yuri was overwhelmed by the blissed out
expression on his face and the racing pulse that was pressed against his nose.
“Can I touch you?” Otabek mumbled, sucking lightly on Yuri’s skin.
“Please.” Yuri groaned lowly.
Otabek pealed their bodies off each other in order to get their pants down to
their thighs. Yuri’s dick was hard and already leaking just like Otabek’s. It
was smaller and  prettier , if that word could even be applied to a dick, than
Otabek’s, which was thick and slightly longer. Otabek spit in his hand and
wrapped his hand around both of them, starting in long strokes of his hand to
build up a rhythm. Yuri let out another loud groan.
“You’re too good at this.” Yuri sighed and let his head dip forward. Otabek had
to put him down but let one leg stayed hooked around his waist for leverage. He
kept his thick hand on their dicks, forehead pressed against Yuri’s as he
slowly pumped him.
“I’ve had practice.” Otabek teased.
Yuri scrunched up his nose and fiddled with the soft hairs on the nape of
Otabek’s neck. “I don’t want you to practice on anybody else.”
Otabek had a thought that they had only met four days ago, that Yuri was
fifteen, but he was consenting and giving Otabek permission. Otabek would have
never come out and asked himself because he was a gentleman, but he didn’t want
to push Yuri away.
“Okay.” Otabek promised with that one word and built up a quick pace with his
hand, thumbing at Yuri’s slit. Just the friction of his hand and Yuri’s cock
against his own was enough to get him off. He bit his lip, trying to hold off
for as long as he could.
It was interesting to see the contrast of their dicks side by side, Yuri’s so
much lighter with a sparse, fair hairs at the root while Otabek had trimmed
thick black hair. He thought it made the sight even sexier. Yuri was staring
too, as the head of their cocks rapidly appeared and disappeared between
Otabek’s clenched fist.
“Beka… I don’t…” Yuri shook his head and leaned forward to rest his chin on
Otabek’s shoulder.
“You can come.” Otabek commanded and Yuri brushed his lips against Otabek’s,
crying out softly as the older of the two pressed down on the underside. It was
apparently a sensitive spot and it made Yuri come immediately. The added
lubrication and the sight of Yuri was his head tilted back, eyes clenched and
lips parted in a deep, sexy exhale made Otabek follow suit, spilling over his
palm onto both of them. Miraculously, none of the come got on either of their
outfits and they were close enough to the paper towels that Otabek could reach
out and grab one to clean them up.
Yuri tucked himself back into his pants and dropped his leg heavily to the
ground, trying to collect his breath as Otabek wiped the come off his hand. He
washed his hand with soap afterwards, neither of them saying a word.
“Are you okay?” Otabek asked quietly as they retreated to the locker rooms.
Everybody was gone by then, Yakov probably tearing up the rink to see where
Yuri had gone. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Yuri glanced at him through his bangs as he began to strip, unabashed now that
they had just rubbed their cocks together. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“That was… a lot.” Otabek mumbled.
Yuri clicked his tongue. “I’ve masturbated with a guy before. No big deal.”
Otabek whipped his head over to look at Yuri as he was unbuttoning his shirt.
“Oh?”
“Although, he never touched me.” Yuri quickly cleared up. He smiled shyly. “I,
um… liked that.”
It looked strange to see such a sweet expression on Yuri’s face when he had
smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow all around his eyes, lip gloss halfway up his
cheek from the making out.
“I’m glad then.” Otabek nodded and they continued changing, finally out of
their exhibition costumes.
“Is it okay if I continue calling you Beka?” Yuri asked as their feet echoed
through the empty hallways. Yakov had spotted them and was slowly making his
way over, shouting in a mix of gibberish and Russian. Even though Otabek knew
the language he couldn’t figure out what the old coach was trying to say.
“Of course.” Otabek nodded with a smile.
“Cool.”
“ YURI PLISETSKY !” That, for once, was clear and both of them flinched.
“Don’t forget to text me. I know you don’t like using your phone.” The grimace
was back on Yuri’s face.
Otabek chuckled. “I use my phone.”
“Your instagram hasn’t been updated in a month!”
“I’m not obsessed like you are.”
“Shut up, asshole!”
“ Don’t use such ugly language! ” Came Lilia’s snarl.
Yuri groaned and stomped off towards his coaches, but not without one last
thumbs up in Otabek’s direction. He had a feeling that this would become a
tradition, a thumbs up at each competition for good luck.
And if something crazy happened that allowed them to sneak off into the
bathroom for a quick hand job, maybe something more in years to come, neither
of them were complaining.
End Notes
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