Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9133747.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Christophe_Giacometti/Victor_Nikiforov
  Character:
      Christophe_Giacometti, Victor_Nikiforov
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Canon, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Underage_Sex, Oral_Sex,
      Unrequited_Love, Light_Angst, Translation, p0rnfest_#10
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-31 Chapters: 1/2 Words: 1719
****** Mal Aimé ******
by antheap
Summary
     /English Translation/
     Christophe's love for skating and his love for Viktor are one and the
     same.
     Viktor is sure he can only ever love his sport.
Notes
     The underage warning refers exclusively to the first chapter, in
     which Chris is 16 and Viktor 18.
  This work was inspired by
      Mal_Aimé by antheap
Christophe Giacometti was impetuous, an uncontrollable mix of passion and
enthusiasm. Viktor considered himself a lively person, someone able to take
things lightly with a smile on his face, but he had to admit to himself that,
in that field, Chris had a talent that easily surpassed his own: since the
first time they competed against each other, when they were both young, the
Russian noticed how alluring his enthusiasm was, how the way he smiled, his
eyes shining with passion, everything about that guy put him in a great mood,
and that’s why they bonded pretty fast.
Giacometti adored him, and not only as a skater. As Viktor saw it, Chris was
the first person to look at him not only with admiration, but with honest
curiosity: he didn’t care only about his talent, he wasn’t interested only in
the competition; the younger athlete was interested in him, his personality,
his thoughts, his feelings, his love for the sport. When they were together, he
wasn’t just a skater, just the world champion: with Chris, he felt like a
person for the first time. So it was natural for Viktor to think of him as a
friend right away. And it was like that for a while. They spent time together
after competitions, texted, exchanged opinions and pieces of advice even when
they were far away.
Sex came into play later on in their relationship, when a young Chris — still
sixteen and yet already confident with the overflowing charm that would be his
most distinctive trait in the years to come — knocked at the door of his hotel
room; the seriousness in his eyes convinced Viktor to let him inside with
barely any hesitation, even if he was still in his bathrobe and he was in the
middle of drying his hair — after all, the Russian was never one to feel
ashamed of his body and Christophe never complained about his self-confidence
and his outgoing behaviour that more often than not was deemed ‘too over-the-
top’.
The Swiss was nervous: he was fidgeting with the edge of his shirt and biting
his lips, and it was so strange for Viktor to see him acting like that, to see
a part of him — his serious and thoughtful side — that he was sure could only
come out when they were talking about their competitions. Chris was very
passionate about skating, just like Viktor, but the difference between them was
that skating wasn’t the only thing Christophe loved: for him, his love for ice
skating and his love for Viktor were one and the same, a tangle he was unable
to unknot, a confused, complex mass of feelings of which he could barely
determine the intensity.
Viktor didn’t understand his implied proposals, the unsaid feelings hiding
behind his words, he didn’t imagine that beyond the interest Chris had in him
there was a lot more than a friendly rivalry; the realisation eluded him for a
long time, as he was absolutely convinced that they were identical, that they
were both so devoted, so committed to ice skating, that they couldn’t find it
in themselves to care about anything else.
He didn’t realize it that night, not even when — after some awkward moments of
silence — the Swiss pushed his lips against his own, first with a soft touch,
then with increasing eagerness. When Viktor thought back to that moment years
later, he wondered how he hadn’t understood what Chris felt, but in that time
of his life, the thought that his kiss could have held deeper feelings didn’t
even cross his mind. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t reject him. Maybe
it was the idea that there couldn’t be love between them, together with his
selfish desire for someone that was looking for the same thing he wanted — a
relationship, any kind of relationship, that didn’t ask of Viktor more than he
felt he could give — that convinced him to accept that kiss and all the others
that came after it, warm, wet, awkward, sloppy, heated.
Viktor smelt like white musk shampoo, the one he always used — the youngster
ended up buying a similar one, just because it reminded him of his friend. And
yet, when the Russian was wearing it, that sweet smell had a spicy note, an
almost intoxicating feeling about it. Underneath the damp bathrobe, his skin
was soft and warm, way more than Chris had imagined in his fantasies. Viktor’s
long, fair hair, still wet, stuck to his face and dampened his clothes, but
that most likely had way less to do with the shiver running down Chris’ back
than the lustful touches the two were exchanging in between their kisses.
Viktor was the first to reach for the other’s crotch, palming his erection
through the tracksuit bottoms that didn’t really hide it that well. When Chris
moaned quietly, looking at him with a pleasantly surprised face, his eyes wide
but half a smile on his lips, Viktor kneeled down and moved his lips closer to
the soft clothes covering the younger guy’s cock — and there was nothing
strange in wanting to have a little fun like that after the competition, he
thought, especially not with Chris.
“Is this what you want?” whispered the older one, raising his gaze to meet the
other’s eyes, which reciprocated the look; the Swiss run his hands between
Viktor’s silver locks, entangling his fingers through them and moving them away
from his face.
This wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about, thought Chris, but that was
definitely not a bad development. He nodded and let Viktor pull down his
joggers. Viktor, that Viktor, the guy he admired since the first time he saw
him skate, the gay for whom he had a big crush since the day he gave him a
flower from his bouquet together with a promise, the guy Chris couldn’t believe
had now considered himself his friend for a year. Viktor, the same person that
now had his hands and his mouth around his erection: his warm tongue moved
languidly around the head while the younger moaned, his grip on the russian’s
hair getting firmer; Chris stood still and allowed him to continue moving at
his slow and terribly erotic pace, and he resisted the urge to push himself
between his lips, to set a faster rhythm, and it was so difficult, at least as
much as trying desperately to pull himself together and to hide how much the
idea that that whole thing was really happening made him feel overwhelmed and
happy.
Viktor had no idea of that difficulty — and maybe it was better that way, no
need to further praise his ego — while he sucked Chris’ erection, circling the
glans with his lips and raising his gaze to meet the younger guy’s eyes with a
delighted expression. The Swiss had a pungent taste, maybe a bit bitter but not
unpleasant, and his cock was burning hot, probably as much as his blushing
cheeks and ears. Viktor paused to admire his enraptured face and he found
himself thinking it was terribly arousing, intoxicating as much as his smell.
The Russian closed his hand delicately around Chris’ dick, his hot breath
titillating its pink head while he jerked him off, his pace faster and faster,
matching to the obscene sounds coming from the younger’s throat. Viktor’s
slightly parted lips, red, swollen and curved in a mocking smile, brushed
against the erection, and his tongue sometimes darted to wet it. Chris had the
impression that the other was waiting for something, or maybe he just liked
provoking him. Viktor moved his lips away from his cock and raised his reddened
face towards his lover, his blue eyes bright with lust even more bewitching
than usual.
“Don't be shy, Chris. I didn't think you could be so pliant,” Viktor breathed,
his voice a raspy whisper, while he kept languidly provoking him with his hands
and his tongue. And Chris would have let him do that for hours if his own
desire to feel that mouth wrapped around his cock wasn't becoming unbearable:
so he gripped his hair, pulling him closer, and pushed himself beyond his lips
until he hit the back of his throat. Viktor let out a choking sound, and he
gagged around the length. Chris loosened the grasp on his scalp, worried he had
gone too far, but the Russian didn't take advantage of that: he gripped his
lover’s hips and started moving his head at a steady pace, stopping now and
then to catch his breath. The younger guy hesitated for a moment, but the
regular pace and the wet heat of the mouth he had desired for so long wiped
away doubts and uncertainty, and again he tightened his grip on Viktor’s soft,
damp hair, while he felt a familiar heat pooling in his crotch.
“Viktor…” he breathed, with an almost pleading tone, moving his hips to meet
the other’s lips, adapting to his pace and losing himself into the
uncontrollable and feverish ecstasy of the upcoming climax. “I-I’m–” he tried
to warn him, but the words died in his throat when the other grasped his
swollen dick, placing it on his tongue while he continued jerking it off. Chris
was shaken by an intense and satisfying orgasm which clouded his thoughts for a
couple of long moments. Viktor tasted the warm semen that streamed between his
lips; some lone spurts ended up on his face and he wiped them away with the
back of his hand, together with a bit of drool covering his chin, in a gesture
that should have been anything but elegant and instead kept an unexplainable
grace in Chris’ eyes, which were staring at the other while the Swiss caught
his breath.
While he got up from the floor, Viktor had an amused expression on his face
which didn’t escape his friend’s attention. “What’s so ridiculous?”
“Your face when you come is very funny,” teased the Russian, a playful and
pleased smirk on his wet lips. Chris smiled back at him widely, grasped both
his wrists and pushed him against the wall behind them, licking his mouth
passionately, tasting them, unconcerned with the slightly bitter taste of his
own orgasm still lingering on the other’s lips.
“I bet yours is even better.”
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