Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11379219.
  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:
      Kink_Meme, Yuri!!!_on_Ice_Kink_Meme, Facials, Hand_Jobs, Hand_&_Finger
      Kink, Possessive_Behavior, Masturbation, Frottage
  Collections:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-17 Updated: 2017-08-21 Chapters: 4/? Words: 3137
****** Otayuri Kink Meme Fills ******
by Lady_Ganesh
Summary
     What it says on the box! Each 'chapter' is an individual fill with
     its own set of warnings, shenanigans, etc. I have done my best to be
     accurate with them!
***** Obedience *****
Chapter Summary
     For the prompt: Otayuri D/s with sub!Otabek
     I don't have anything specific in mind, just Otabek kneeling in front
     of Yuri and whatever might come out of that (foot-kissing, cock
     worship, etc)
     What there is is kneeling, begging, oral sex and some handcuffs.  
     Grammar has been cleaned up for posting; written in present tense if
     that's not your thing.
They have five hours until Yuri has to meet the rest of his team at the hotel
entrance. Four hours until they have to stop, because they'll have to clean up
and get their clothes on and maybe shower, and Yuri's still planning on
sneaking back into his room like he hasn't spent hours in Otabek's instead. The
team knows he's somewhere, but he doesn't have to give them the whole story.
This is his. No one else's.

Otabek has gotten taller since the last time they were together. His head is
just above Yuri's knee now. He looks good on his knees, but Yuri already knew
that.

The last time they'd tried this, it had been Yuri, and for ten minutes it had
been all right and for thirty seconds it'd been terrible and then for two hours
Yuri had been curled on his bed repeating "I'm fine, don't touch me" every
fifteen minutes. Otabek had asked, what if it's me next time?

So that's what they're trying, what if it's Otabek. Otabek on his knees, naked
but for the leather cuffs keeping his hands in front of his body. Yuri runs his
hands across Otabek's short hair and Otabek closes his eyes.

"No," Yuri said, and Otabek's eyes fly open, dark lashes still wearing last
night's mascara. "Look at me."

Otabek's chin dips, just a little. Yes.

Yuri takes Otabek's chin in his hand. "Good," he says, squeezing. Fuck, he's
hard. He'll be lucky if he doesn't spill all over Otabek's face before they
even get started. The full-length mirror in the room is behind Otabek, which
means Yuri can see all of him, the muscles in his back and shoulders and arms.
The curve of his ass. Otabek is fucking perfect and strong as hell and
he's here, kneeling at Yuri's feet. As willing to please as Victor's fucking
dog.

Mine.

Yuri lets go of Otabek and unzips, willing his fucking dick to stay in
line. Not yet. Nothing yet. He gets himself in hand and thinks of that goddamn
dog, because if there's a bigger boner-killer than a fucking poodle he doesn't
know what it is. It doesn't really help, because nothing fucking helps, but at
least he doesn't feel quite as close to the edge. "Is this what you want?" He
pauses, then realizes he hasn't given permission. "You can talk," he said.
"Tell me. Is this what you want?"

"Yes," Otabek says, and his voice isn't the calm, measured tone Yuri's used to.
Yuri's dick twitches in his hand. "Please."

"Please what?" Yuri says, hoping his voice sounds steadier than he feels. "Tell
me."

"Let me."

Yuri slips a finger in Otabek's mouth, and Otabek sucks it, obedient, needy.
Yuri's aching, but putting him off, teasing him, is almost as good. "You want
to suck me?" Yuri asks, and Otabek moans, a deep, low sound that reverberates
right in Yuri's spine.

Yuri pulls his finger out. "Tell me," he says, again.

"Let me suck you," Otabek says, his voice unsteady. "Please, Yuri."

"Beg me."

"I am begging you." Otabek licks his lips. "Please. Please."

"You want it."

"Yuri," Otabek said, and his voice is tight now, needy. "Please."

"Open your mouth," Yuri says, and okay, that sounds a little shaky, but Otabek
sounded worse, so that was okay, probably. "Open it wide." 

Otabek obeys, and Yuri grabs the base of his own cock, thinking about the cold
air that hit you after the sauna, the kind that sent your balls running for
cover and made you feel like your skin was coated with frost.

"You want it?"

"Please," Otabek says. "Let me. Let me suck you off." His eyes are glued to
Yuri's cock, like it's the only thing he's ever wanted, like it's the only
thing in the world that even exists. 

"Lick it," Yuri says. "The tip. Be gentle."

When Otabek's tongue hits his cock he has to bite his fucking lip to keep from
spilling. Otabek's eyes are as intense as always, dark and almost liquid. He
licks gently, carefully, like Yuri's cock is something delicate and precious,
and Yuri wants to kiss him or slap him or something, anything, he can't
fucking stand it any more.

"Fuck," Yuri says, not bothering to try to control his voice. "Fuck, do it,
suck me, just--"

Otabek doesn't even really get Yuri into his mouth before he comes, white
lights flashing in the back of his vision, come streaking across Otabek's face
and into his dark hair. Otabek takes him into his mouth for the aftershocks,
and maybe it's okay when Otabek is stupidly gentle because that feels good,
really good. He puts his hand on the back of Otabek's hair, strokes it as the
world fades back into focus. 

"Shit," he says, when he can talk again. "Are you--?"

Otabek nuzzles his cock. "I'm fine," he said. "Can I stand up?"

"Oh," Yuri said. "Sure, whatever. I--yeah." He takes a half-step back so he can
collapse, back first, onto Otabek's mattress. "Fuck. Do you need me to--?"

Otabek has already pulled the cuffs off. He gestures down; he came without Yuri
even touching him. Fuck. "I'll get a washcloth," he says.

"Yeah, but come here first," Yuri says, reaching for him. "I wanna lick the
come off your face."

Otabek smiles.
***** Possession *****
Chapter Summary
     The prompt: Yuri comes to the club where Otabek DJs. They both get
     off on Yuri flirting and dancing his way through the crowd while
     Otabek can see him from the booth. Later that night they go home and
     have rough, hot, possessive sex.
     "You could have gone anywhere," Otabek said. "You wanted me to watch
     you."
     That's it, that's the story. Handjobs, flirting, Yuri's 17-ish here.
Sometimes, DJing felt even better than skating. It was easier on Otabek's body,
anyway.

Tonight was a good night, the crowd easy-going and ready to move, big enough to
feel like a real crowd but not so big that people didn’t have room to dance. He
could feel the pulse in his feet through the speakers, through the earplugs
that were his only concession to his career on nights like this. Hearing damage
wouldn't be impossible to work around, but it would be a pain in the ass.

There weren't many blonds in the crowd, which made it easier to spot the short
teenager in dark glasses and a tiger print tank top.

Yakov had said he wanted Yuri to get an early night, which meant Yuri had snuck
out. His fake ID wasn't good enough to get him in to drink, but it got him
through the door. The girl he'd found to flirt with couldn't have been much
older than he was, anyway, though she was a good five inches taller. Maybe
more, if she wasn't wearing heels. 

I'm sure your growth spurt will come soon, Otabek had said last night, with
maybe less sympathy than he should have. At least this way you don't have to
adjust your jumps.

Yuri had given him the finger.

The girl was leaning in close, her lips brushing his ear.

He needed to change the track. Fuck, Yuri could be distracting. Even back in
ballet class, Otabek found himself watching the graceful kid at the barre
instead of focusing on what his own body should have been doing. It was worse
now they weren’t kids.

A lot worse.

Otabek tore his gaze from the dance floor and crossfaded to the next track. By
the time he had things under control again, Yuri had moved from the tall girl
to a black guy with an old school high-and-tight. Mesh shirt, easy smile.
Otabek hated him instantly. The guy had a dark-haired friend, tan skin, with a
ponytail, and together they ground against Yuri until Otabek was clenching his
jaw and half-wondering if he should tell the bouncer that the blond pretty boy
getting all the attention was underage.

But he went back to work, letting himself sink into the music again, as Yuri
spun away from them and found a second couple to flirt with, this time two
slender women in miniskirts who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

Otabek glanced at his phone. Shit, he had an hour and a half left to go. This
was going to be torture.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yuri looking up at the DJ booth. Yuri
winked.


"You didn't have to let him put his hand down your pants," Otabek growled, as
he opened the door to the apartment and let Yuri in.

"I didn't," Yuri said. "They're too tight for that, didn't you notice?"

"I noticed," Otabek said, shoving him against the door, letting it slam. "And I
noticed you feeling up that redhead in the miniskirt."

Yuri snorted. "I don't even like girls."

Otabek pinned him, an arm on either side of Yuri's body. "You like making me
jealous."

"You like finding reasons to be jealous."

Otabek kissed him to shut him up, because the argument wasn't going to end, and
getting his hands on Yuri was the best way to make up for all
those other hands. Yuri moaned into his mouth, then kissed back hard. Otabek
shoved a hand under Yuri's tank top, reached for a nipple and tweaked it,
feeling Yuri's hips buck against him.

Yuri broke the kiss. "You know you don't own me," he said. "You can't--"

"You could have gone anywhere," Otabek said. "You wanted me to watch you."

Of course he did. They both knew it. This wasn't the first time or the second
or the fifth. 

But this was the first time Yuri said, "Yeah." He licked at his lips. "Of
course I fucking want you to watch me." He looked a little uncertain for a
moment, then gained confidence as he talked. "I want to be the only person you
even look at."

"Hard to do that when you have everyone else feeling you up."

"Sure," Yuri said, out of breath, pushing back against him. "Because nobody in
that club wanted to fuck the DJ. Like I didn't spent half my time listening to
people talk about how hot you are--"

"Was that before or after you let them corner you in the men's?"

Yuri was screwing with Otabek's zipper. "Did you paint these fucking jeans on?"

"You liked them earlier."

"Yeah, that's before I knew I'd need a crowbar to get them off--"

Otabek snorted and put his hands down to help him, shoving his jeans off his
ass, smirking at Yuri's groan as Yuri realized he wasn't wearing underwear. His
dick felt overheated, even in the cool air of the hotel room. He’d turned the
air conditioner extra low. It didn’t help.

"Fuck," Yuri said. "How do you fucking--you drive me fucking crazy."

Otabek pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it off, pushed Yuri back against
the door and kissed him again. He wanted to get the smell of the bar off him.
Replace all the hands that had been on Yuri's body with his own touch. 

He wanted to drop down on his knees but he wanted this too, Yuri yanking his
own dick out of the leather pants and wrapping his hand around both their
cocks, jerking hard. Otabek wanted to pull off the rest of Yuri's clothes but
there was no time. He wanted too fucking much. 

Yuri whispered up into Otabek's ear: "The guy in the men's offered me five
hundred dollars to suck him off."

It hit him like a shot. "What did you tell him?"

"What do you think?" Yuri hissed, and Otabek came in his hand, felt Yuri's
grunt as he fell over the edge. Come splattered against Yuri's leather pants.

Otabek leaned against him until they'd both caught their breath. Yuri tipped
his head up so they could kiss again, gentler this time.

"Did he really?" Otabek asked. He was half-hard again. He wondered when Yuri
would need to sneak back in.

"He started at fifty," Yuri said. "But I'm worth more than that."

Otabek grabbed Yuri by the ass, lifting him as Yuri wrapped his legs around
Otabek's body, and headed for the bed.
***** Welcome to the Madness *****
Chapter Summary
     The prompt: After Welcome to the Madness, Otabek continues where he
     left off during the performance and removes all Yuri's clothes with
     his teeth, then sucks him off.
     Alternatively, after WTTM, Otabek furiously jerks off while
     fantasizing about doing that.
     This is the 'furiously jerks off' version. (Otabek's torn between
     duty and his hormones. It's going to be a long few months.)
Otabek made a point of telling Yuri he was too young to be in the club at
sixteen. A point. Of trying to keep him at home so no one would end up on the
front pages later.

I'm a fucking idiot, he thought to himself. 

He was well aware that the weight of the entire Kazakh skating program rested
on his shoulders. He had to be responsible. Follow the rules. Don't drag
underage kids into bars. Keep it in your pants. Look but don't touch.

Aside from that finger in his mouth--

Fuck. Otabek breathed, low, steady. The stall door was locked, and if he was
lucky no one would need to piss for the next--shit. Five minutes? It wasn't
going to take that long. In his mind, he was already on his knees, pulling at
Yuri's fly with his teeth. The want was enough to eat him alive, and the only
thing that saved him was Yuri's focus on his own performance, on the screaming
crowd. On stealing the attention he'd craved so much.

He was going to jack himself raw before morning.

He closed his eyes. Faster, the Yuri in his mind urged, and he gnawed at the
fly, the cool metal against his tongue. Fuck, can't you do it any faster than
that?

What was it about Yuri Plietsky that made Otabek want to do this? Want to do
whatever he wants?

His hand worked his cock, harder, almost frantic now. Not much time. Think
about Yuri, as desperate as Otabek, moaning, urging him on. Pulling Yuri's
pants down once the fly was open, gnawing at the dance belt. Getting Yuri's
cock into his mouth, fuck, finally, fuck--

That was enough, finally, Otabek's head smacking against the stall door as he
came and came and came. He'd probably stay half-hard for the rest of the night,
but the edge was off, at least. He'd make it through the banquet without
embarrassing himself.

Someone needed to keep Katsuki from the champagne. He wasn't sure anyone could
handle a second dance-off tonight.

Almost sixteen. Almost sixteen.

Otabek grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned up, let his breathing return to
normal. One more night and he could go home.

He hoped to hell Yuri wouldn't have any more ideas before dawn.
***** For the Fire *****
Chapter Summary
     Yuri is upset. Otabek grounds him.
     For the prompt: Yuri rides Otabek's thigh until he comes. That's all.
     (A minor health scare is in this story, detail/spoilers in endnotes.)
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Yuri was on edge, had been since Otabek had seen him in the back of the club.
He managed to step back from mixing long enough to grab some water and send a
text: What's wrong?

Nothing.

Well, that was bullshit, but Otabek had to finish the set first. Yuri hovered
at the edge of his vision, picking at his jacket sleeves, a bundle of tension.
Otabek wanted to grab him and drag him out of the club. Ten more minutes in
this set, ten-minute break, second set. 

Yuri could wait. It'd be fine.

It'd probably be fine.


By the time he got to Yuri, Yuri was practically vibrating, his hands and eyes
glued to his phone. "Hey," Otabek said, more out of habit than any belief Yuri
would hear him. He touched Yuri’s shoulder, bracing himself for Yuri's
reaction.

Yuri just melted into him, burying his face in Otabek's neck, pushing Otabek
back against the wall.

That was bad. Really fucking bad. Vasily's office was usually empty this time
of night, unless someone was freaking out and needed some quiet. Otabek decided
that this qualified. He pulled at Yuri, and Yuri hesitated, then wrapped
himself around Otabek.

It wasn't the most elegant way to get back into Vasily's office, but it worked,
and the office was empty. Otabek dropped into Vasily's nice leather office
chair and tried to peel Yuri off enough to talk to him. It was quieter with the
door closed, insulated from the noise and music. "Tell me what's wrong," he
said. "Did somebody give you something? Are you--"

"I'm fine," Yuri said, still shaking a little. "She's fine. It's fine. I don't
know why I'm being so stupid about this."

"It's all right," Otabek said. "Your fire is what makes you strong. Don't be
ashamed of who you are."

"I can't even believe you say shit like that," Yuri muttered into his shoulder,
but it seemed to help.

"Who's all right? Tell me what happened."

"Potya," Yuri said. "She--I guess it was an abscess, and the petsitter saw it,
and he took her to the vet and she's fine but--what if she hadn't been? What if
I'd been stuck here and she was--” He sucked in breath. “Fuck. I know it's
stupid."

"You love her," Otabek said. He stroked Yuri's hair. 

"Yeah." Yuri sat back. "How long do you have?"

"Ten minutes." Maybe less, but no one would complain if he was a little late.
The clubs were practically the only place where people thought Yuri was a good
influence on him instead of the other way around.

Yuri took a breath, let it out. He put his face down to kiss Otabek, hungry,
greedy, his hands pushing under Otabek's t-shirt. "Can I--"

"Yeah," he said. "Whatever you need."

Yuri moaned into his shoulder, straddled his thigh, his fingers bruising into
Otabek's sides. He kissed Otabek again, riding along his leg. Otabek could feel
him getting harder.

Otabek kissed his ear, his cheek, whatever he could find with his mouth. Yuri
panted, his legs working, iron-hard skater's thighs against his own. Otabek's
cock throbbed in his jeans. A little part of him would've slid Yuri back,
pushed him against the desk, but he knew Yuri's urgency too well. This was what
he needed. This was what Otabek could give. Later, they'd go back to the
apartment and he'd have more time, be able to strip the layers of leather and
spandex off Yuri and get his mind off Potya and St. Petersburg completely for a
while.

Right now, Yuri was shaking in his arms, silent, his blunt nails pressing into
Otabek's back. Otabek sucked at his neck, not hard enough to bruise, just
enough to let Yuri feel the pressure. Yuri was muttering something, low,
Russian and English and what Otabek was pretty sure was Japanese, the words
flowing together, meaningless.

"Fuck--"

There, that was it, Yuri coming in his compression pants, wet and hot on
Otabek's thigh. Fuck, they'd have to clean that up. Vasily kept tissues on the
desk, maybe he had--

"Fuck," Yuri said, back to Russian. "I made a goddamn mess of this shit."

"It's fine," Otabek said. "We'll get some seltzer water or something. See what
Vasily has in the drawer.”

"I should--" Yuri's hand brushed Otabek's erection, and Otabek felt fire rush
through his body.

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Later," he said. "I've got my next set. Let's
get cleaned up."

Yuri grabbed him by the jacket, held him in place for a second. "Thanks," he
said. "I...just. Thanks."

Otabek kissed his forehead. "I'm glad she's okay," he said.

"Yeah," Yuri said, finally sliding off his lap. "Me too."
Chapter End Notes
     Potya gets hurt but she's okay. ♥
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