Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12683475.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Victor_Nikiforov/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Victor_Nikiforov, Yuri_Plisetsky
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Hate_Sex, Love/Hate, Rimming, Dominance, victurio
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-10 Words: 1677
****** The Moon ******
by djdaddybek_(llyn)
Summary
     Viktor comes for Yuri when the moon is full
Notes
     Beauty is a crushing form of righteousness
     <3
See the end of the work for more notes
“Yurio!”
“You’re--ugh--you’re in the wrong room, old man. Go slobber on the pig.”
“No,” then a slow smile. “Why? Isn’t this what you wanted? Me?”
“You’re no use to me drunk, Viktor.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Get off of me--”
“No. Listen, kotik, I need you to know. Little boys don’t fly across the world
like you did.” Viktor’s long fingers dance across Yuri’s cheek, slipping into
his hair and tugging, rough so that Yuri whines. “You must’ve grown up while I
wasn’t looking.”
“You haven’t been looking. You never look.”
“Kotik--”
“Stop.”
“Pretty boy. Let me be your coach tonight, hm? There’s no one to stop us.”
“I’ll shout for the pig.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You’re drunk, Viktor.”
“And you’re just the same. I don’t have to look, you never change,” nibbling
delicately on his earlobe, tongue teasing it as Yuri’s face gets red and hot.
Viktor spreads his hand flat over Yuri’s stomach, but he doesn’t hold him down.
Yuri doesn’t try to get away.
“Pervert,” he spits.
It makes Viktor laugh. “So vicious,” murmured against his ear. “Is that what my
hapless young protege wants? Viciousness?”
“I want to sleep.”
“No,” a hand drifting down to rub Yuri’s hard cock through his shorts. “I think
you want me to teach you, kotik. My pretty little Yuratchka. Who else will
teach you?”
“I don't need to be taught,” Yuri says. It makes Viktor laugh again as he
kisses his way down his small frame.
Yuri’s skin glows so clean and smooth, white like cream in the moonlight. He
peels off Yuri’s shorts, the little kitten lifting his hips to help, despite
his earlier threats. “Pretty pink cock. It should have a pink bow, too,” Viktor
murmurs. “Something for me to unwrap.” He drops kisses all over the velvet soft
head as Yuri tries to stay quiet. He breathes hard, chest red. He knows this is
what he wanted. He knows Viktor shouldn’t be giving it. But things will change
now, he thinks, for the better. His narrow chest heaves with each breath. The
room feels small. The air is gone from it.
Viktor hums and sucks Yuri’s cock slowly, oblivious to Yuri’s thoughts. He
savors his choked off moans, the way the kitten pushes up into his mouth,
helpless. He slips his fingers between Yuri’s cheeks, teasing him, pushing--
“Viktor--”
“Hm? Do you want more?” He’s so amused, fingers circling Yuri's cock and
circling his rim, too, all at once and everywhere, a light touch, driving him
mad. “Never be scared to ask for more, kotik. You’re a beauty. There will
always be men lined up to spoil you.”     
“Less,” Yuri says, silky head dropping back against the pillow. “Less talking.”
“Are you a virgin?”
No answer.
Viktor hums. “All those parties with Mila and no big, strong hockey player’s
pinned the little fairy? Made a line of sweets for you to follow into a dark
room--”
“Viktor--please--” the kitten is close, panting, eyes fluttering closed, but so
what? He’s young. Viktor lowers his head to suck his pretty cock. One brush of
his tight balls and he’s coming down Viktor’s throat, making the sweetest noise
of surprise.
“Very good,” Viktor says, licking his lips. “Again?”
“Yes,” Yuri says, quiet, heart beating so loud he can hear it himself. But if
he’s shaken, he also feels something else. A release. A taut string, cut. He’s
smug with victory.
And all of this with the pig asleep down the hall, dreaming of katsudon. Viktor
will be his now, Yuri can tell. Viktor is smiling down at him, looking smug
himself.
“Do you have lube?” Viktor asks, eyes white with the moon’s reflection. He
looks, to Yuri, undead. When he tilts his head, impatient, Yuri imagines he
could have long fangs and ice for blood. “Well?”
Yuri nods, kitten-shy, and reaches into his spilled luggage to pluck the bottle
out.
“Of course you do. Such a grown up.”
That cuts through his awe. The old man with his condescension wrapped around
him like a high-collared cloak. “You don’t know everything, Viktor,” he snaps.
“Turn around, kotik, your mouth wears me out.” Viktor smiles, no fangs, but his
mouth still drips poison, “I want to return the favor.”
Yuri turns, hand-and-knees, even as he hates him. He loves him. He hates him.
He knows that Viktor is not so conflicted. He only loves himself.
“I suppose I should impart some wisdom,” Viktor says, overturning the bottle
into his cupped palm. “As your new coach. To mark the occasion. Let’s see,” he
spells out his initials in lube on Yuri’s cheeks, trying to think past the
fever of sake. “When you are old enough to date, older men will treat you
better. Young ones don’t know how to fuck. And if you really like a man--which
seems unlikely for you, but you never know--just keep your mouth shut and laugh
at his jokes--”
Yuri hisses as Viktor rubs lube-slicked circles around his rim. His thin body
arches, painted white and gray and blue with moonlight and moonshadows. “That’s
garbage advice--ah!” Yuri’s little ass lifts for it just like a petted cat’s--
the finger he presses inside is squeezed so tight it makes Viktor forget his
own rules and lean in to taste him past the slick of the lube. He probes
against the tight snap of his rim with his tongue, slipping his finger out to
push his tongue into the kitten’s hole instead. That same impossible squeeze,
but more. It’s surprising. He tastes pure as snow. It’s not that he personally
cares about taking Yuri’s virginity--it’s that he doesn’t trust anyone else
with the task.
This way is better. This way the kitten can place the blame on a familiar face
and not get his young heart broken in real love. But oh, he tastes like sweet
ice, and it’s making Viktor drool like he never has before. His spit runs down
his chin, and his cock aches he’s so hard for the lovely little punk.
Something’s gone terribly wrong with his plan to teach him a lesson. He can’t
remember what lesson he came to teach him, or why. He might be too drunk.
“Mm, what are you doing to me?” he asks, then gives him one last wide swipe of
his tongue between his cheeks, eyes heavy with lust, lust roaring up and making
him blind. He falls on Yuri, and Yuri falls, too, under his weight, with a
yowl. Viktor doesn’t stop, fingering him roughly as he bites down hard on his
pale neck. Fingering the poor, lost kitten without any art, desperate to get
inside him anyway he can.
There’s something in the taste of him lingering in Viktor’s mouth, his half-
moans, his curses, the flick of his hair in the moonlight--vain, even now--
that’s caught Viktor on fire. He itches. His skin burns, and his thoughts curl,
hot, at the edges, sizzling to ash. He covers Yuri’s mouth with his hand,
rutting against him as he pushes two, then three fingers in to that squeeze.
Yuri bites his palm, trying to keep quiet. He wants this, maybe that’s what
Viktor didn’t count on. It’s been a long time since he fucked some starry-eyed
teen. He forgot how it makes him feel like he could take a bullet or drink
poison: untouchable. The world at his feet--Yuri so young and so beautiful and
so ready to let Viktor take it all.
Except. Yuri doesn’t want Viktor to take it all, does he? Yuri wants to take it
all from Viktor. There’s a difference.
Viktor tells him to be quiet, speaking more to his own thoughts then the boy
he’s got half-pinned and whining beneath him, and pushes the head of his cock
against his sticky rim. Yuri takes it all. His breath is ragged against
Viktor’s palm--wet and hot like his little hole that Viktor’s pressing his cock
into inch by shivery inch. The kitten moans, not quiet, and licks Viktor’s hand
when he squeezes his hand over his face tighter, fingertips digging into his
tear-stained cheeks. But Yuri’s not crying. The tears are pushed out of him as
Viktor pushes in, but he’s not crying. He’s learning.
He learns that it hurts in just the way that he’d hoped, and that if he arches
his back and reaches behind him to grab Viktor’s hair, he can make the old man
go faster. He can make him go slower, too, if he rolls so that he’s on his
back, with Viktor beneath him. The angle is sweeter, and it gives the old man a
chance to jerk him off again as he scrapes his teeth over Yuri’s bared neck. He
comes all over his hand. He’s young. So what? What does it matter to him?
“Up,” Yuri commands, and Viktor obeys him. He sits them both up to let Yuri
grind in his lap, his back to Viktor’s chest, Viktor’s teeth scraping his bared
neck as he lays it back on Viktor’s shoulder, eyes closed in something like
prayer. Fuck them both. The pig and the old man. Yuri will fuck everyone in the
end. They’ll see. He’s already getting hard again. He knows now, his own power.
It’s the sound of Viktor cursing as he comes deep in Yuri’s ass, and the weak
whimper as he hides his face against the back of Yuri’s neck, thin hair
tickling Yuri’s sweat-soaked skin. Yuri will take this from him, and more.
Years from now, they’ll remember his name, and not Viktor’s. Because the years
are on Yuri’s side.
“Go,” Yuri says. Viktor leaves. He’s been chastised. He’s been unmanned. He’s
been beaten. He can only think, as he slides the door shut, gazing at Yuri in
the moonlight, that he looks very beautiful--naked and silver and young and
alone--as if he were a creature just hatched, and Viktor in the shadows an old,
shambling monster so familiar that he’s not frightening at all.
End Notes
     follow me on twitter @commandantllyn
     or on tumblr at djdaddybek
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