Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12114591.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Victor_Nikiforov/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Victor_Nikiforov, Yuri_Plisetsky
  Collections:
      NSFW_Yurio_Week_-_Anon
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-17 Words: 2693
****** The One He'll Come To ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Victor doesn't belong to the world; Yuri is the one who helps him
     patch up his bruised and bleeding feet.
“I’m bored,” Yuri says. When he talks about wanting to be taken seriously, he
doesn’t mean that he wants to be part of all these boring ass banquets and ass
kissing to sponsors. Victor ignores him and sips his champagne. “Victor. I’m
tired. Take me back to my room.”
“Already?” Victor says, raising an eyebrow at him. He’s bright and beautiful,
exactly the way everyone expects him to be; and Yuri has been clenching his
teeth since Victor came to his room to pick him up for this shit show. “It’s
not that late. Where’s your youthful teen spirit?”
“It died,” Yuri says with a scowl.
Victor chuckles at him but Yuri doesn’t punch him in the face because he can
tell Victor is looking for Yakov now. He pats his shoulder and goes to their
coach. Yakov isn’t pleased to hear that his junior champion is trying to skive
off but Victor has that look on his face where he’s going to charm the pants
off whoever tries to tell him no.
It’s usually annoying but it’s helpful sometimes that Victor knows how to get
his way.
“Yakov has given you permission to leave. But if he catches you awake, he’s got
some creative punishment for you. I stopped listening so just imagine something
terrible,” Victor says cheerfully. He tosses an arm around Yuri and though he’s
heavy, he maneuvers them out of the way, calling out quick and final goodbyes
to anyone who tries to get in their way.
“Whatever,” Yuri says.
Victor lets go of him when they’re back in the elevator though he doesn't pull
away.
“You can’t do that forever,” he warns softly.
Yuri scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“They expect me back,” Victor says, a little louder and more normal.
“Fuck them,” Yuri says. “You don’t want to be there anymore than I did.”
“Hm?” Victor looks at him with a bright, blank smile.
“I can tell. You’ve been faking it this whole time,” Yuri says, rolling his
eyes a little. “I’m surprised Yakov didn’t yell at you for it. It’s too fucking
obvious.”
“It’s not,” Victor says. At least the stupid look on his face is gone. He’s
looking straight ahead to the doors as they open and they step out. That
doesn’t stop Yuri from saying what he wants to.
“It is,” Yuri disagrees. “I could tell.”
“I guess so,” Victor says, and he’s smiling a little but it’s not forced like
before. Yuri swallows something in his throat. It only lasts for a moment and
that doesn’t seem fair to him somehow. “But I’m going back after I drop you
off. I’m not thirteen.”
“Asshole,” Yuri spits because Victor knows that he’s fifteen going on sixteen.
Victor’s shoulder shake in a silent laugh then he gestures to Yuri’s door.
“I thought we were going to your room?” Yuri asks, trying to be nonchalant. He
looks at Victor out of the corner of his eye, even if he has to look up at him
to do it. Victor laughs at him. “I have to share a room with Georgi. Do you
know how bad he snores?”
“I suppose we can’t have the World Junior champion losing sleep,” Victor says
even though he’s bunked with Georgi before and knows for a fact he’s a quiet
sleeper. Actually, he’s a decent roommate, since he’s had to share rooms with
other skaters and knows to keep to his side of the room. It’s a thin excuse but
the fact that Victor plays along makes Yuri wonder how far he can go.
Victor turns on his heel and Yuri follows after him
“There yo go,” Victor says as he unlocks his room.
Yuri notices the way his eyes scan the hallway. He saunters into Victor’s room
as if it’s his own.
“It’s not much bigger,” Victor says, lying his teeth off. It’s admittedly still
a hotel room but his single is bigger than Yuri’s shared room.
Yuri doesn’t even bother to kick his shoes off before throwing himself face
down on the magnificently large bed. He ignores Victor’s tut.
“Don’t hog the bed. I’ll try not to wake you up when I come back.”
“You’re still going back there?” Yuri asks, a little in disbelief, sitting up
so he can properly glare at Victor.
Victor smooths down the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. Yuri is sitting cross
legged and not caring that he’s ruining the lines of his pants; it’s a bitter
to swallow, that he’s still a child to Victor. Because of course only a child
would view the world so simply. Yuri doesn’t want to go so he won’t.
“I am,” he says, steady and unfazed. There’s nothing eager or alive in his
eyes.
“I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” Yuri says. Being an adult is about choosing,
right?
“Why do you want me to stay?” Victor asks.
Ah shit. Yuri looks away. He can’t, doesn’t want to watch Victor like this.
“I don’t care,” Yuri says. He tries to shrug, as if it really doesn’t matter to
him one way or another.
Victor goes to the bed and touches Yuri’s shoe. Yuri jerks and almost kicks him
but Victor just smiles at him.
“I’m taking them off before you fall asleep in them,” Victor explains and Yuri
relaxes, letting Victor slowly undo the laces. He’s not anywhere near tired
enough that he would fall asleep in his suit but there’s something so
captivating about Victor like this, as he bends down to gently loosen the laces
and slip the shoes off of Yuri.
He peels off his socks too, mindful to keep from catching on his bandages and
wraps, so smooth and light fingered that there’s almost no snags or threat of
that happening. Yuri panics for an instant not over how his feet look but the
smell; but Victor doesn’t say anything. He stands up and sets the shoes down by
the drawers, laying his socks out flat on top of the fronts of his shoes.
“Take the jacket off,” Victor says. “I’ll hang it up.”
Yuri wets his lips.
“Take it off me?” He tries to say but it comes out as more of a question.
“I don’t have anything extra that fits you,” Victor murmurs but his fingers
still tug at Yuri’s sleeve. Yuri lets Victor maneuver him, not as if he’s a
doll but like he’s the master of this room. Victor gives him an approving look
for behaving so nicely and goes to find a hanger, sliding Yuri’s jacket on it
like it’s made of silk.
Yuri lets him do the same to his undershirt, raising his arms so Victor can
peel it off him, trying not to shiver as Victor’s fingertips brush against his
skin. Victor doesn’t linger, no matter how much Yuri wants him to; he’s slow
and methodical but he’s not copping a feel.
Victor takes his time folding it, smoothing out the lines so they’re sharp, and
arranging all the corners of the final rectangle so they are even. He opens the
drawer and lays it inside, shoving his own clothes off to the side with a
brusque brush of his hands. Victor clicks the drawer shut before he turns back
to Yuri.
“Lift your hips,” he says.
Yuri swallows and scoots to the edge of the bed, fisting his hands in the
sheets as Victor bends onto his knees and settles his hands in between Yuri’s
pants and underwear. He’s still moving slow, as if trying not to spook Yuri,
but Yuri has never been frightened that easily.
Victor gets the pants over the curve of his ass and with a push of his thumb,
indicates to Yuri that he can sit back down. It’s only a few centimeters but
Yuri feels like he’s crashing back down. He doesn’t kick out his legs as Victor
continues to slowly draw his pants down, guiding his legs out as much as
pulling them out of the pant legs.
Victor gives the pants a shake as he takes them off of Yuri completely and
hangs them up as well, taking great care to hang them up evenly. He closes the
closet door with a satisfied smile and turns to Yuri.
“Good night,” he says.
“Wait,” Yuri says. Victor raises an eyebrow at him and Yuri tries to bite back
his nerves. He can hear the anxious tremor in his voice and he despises it but
he’s never let his fears stop him. “You’re not done.”
“You don’t sleep naked,” Victor says.
“How can you know that?” Yuri says, cocking his head to give him a smirk. He
leans back on his hands and jiggles his knee at Victor. “Come on and finish
me.”
Victor is looming over him in an instant, one hand at the back of his head, his
fingers barely touching him.
“Do you know what you’re saying?” Victor asks softly. He doesn’t sound mad.
“I’m not an idiot,” Yuri says and he pushes himself up so he can kiss Victor.
He misses and pecks the corner of his lips; and he thinks it’s over, he’s done,
Victor is going to haul him back to his room and tell Yakov to keep Yuri away
from him.
Then Victor moves to grasp his hair in his hand so that he can guide Yuri into
a proper kiss, lips against lips. There’s no hesitation on his part and Yuri
will deny that he ever whimpered as Victor sucks on his lip, enough teeth that
he licks it over in apology.
“You’re such a brat,” Victor says, palming him with a wide open hand, as it
judging to see what he has to look forward to. Yuri gasps and throws his head
back, grinding up into Victor’s touch, panting and moaning for more already.
“You can’t just skate on the ice as you please. You’ll have responsibilities to
your fans, to sponsors, and the ISU officials. Avoiding them does you no good.”
“I hate those things,” Yuri says. “Everyone at that banquet was acting like
they deserve a piece of you.”
“They wanted to congratulate me,” Victor says, his fingers too delicate as he
traces over Yuri’s cock. But every time Yuri thrusts up, Victor moves with him
though he never loses contact. Victor Nikiforov is a fucking asshole and Yuri
can’t get the pressure that he wants. “Some of them have been supporting me for
years.”
“I don’t fucking care,” Yuri snarls. They aren’t the ones watching Victor as he
trains for countless hours, the ones who help him patch up his bloody feet and
aching body. Nobody but Yuri gets to do that. He’s the only one Victor will
come to.
Victor pulls his hand away and licks his fingers slowly, smiling at Yuri. Yuri
doesn’t back down even if it burns at him because he knows how jealous he
sounds. He knows Victor can’t go around totally ignoring his sponsors and
supporters. But the way people ate up his attention, as if they were taking
chunks out of Victor, disgusted Yuri. He would never be able to be like that.
Victor breaks their heated gaze but it’s not a victory for Yuri when he pulls
away so he can take his jacket off. He throws it onto the ground without a
second look, his shirt following soon after, adding to the crumpled pile.
“I love watching you get angry,” Victor whispers as he pushes Yuri onto the bed
and covers him with his body.
“I know,” Yuri says with a scowl. Victor is always pissing him off becuadro he
thinks it’s hilarious.
Victor shakes his head as if he knows what Yuri is thinking. Yuri spreads his
legs so that Victor fits better in between them.
“Everything you feel, everything you are, it’s so real. It’s always you,”
Victor says. He traces a line down Yuri’s chest till he reaches his cock again,
keeping one finger on the tip as Yuri shakes his head back and forth at the too
light touch. “I admire that more than you can ever understand.”
Victor draws his hand away so Yuri can catch his breath.
“I know,” Yuri says again. He thinks he understands. It’s part of why he tries
to hard to see who Victor really is. Victor Nikiforov is for everyone else to
see online and in interviews. Yuri wants all of Victor.
“Do you,” Victor says. He doesn’t give Yuri time to figure out if that’s a
question or the chance to answer. Instead he rolls Yuri’s underwear down and
laps at his cock.
Yuri shouts and groans, enough that Victor pops off to give him a look.
“Too loud,” he says, pressing his thumbs into Yuri’s thighs. “Can you keep it
down? The walls are aren’t soundproof.”
“More,” Yuri says in response and Victor sighs, affectionate and not actually
put out. He takes Yuri’s cock into his mouth this time, so warm and wet that
Yuri can’t help thrusting up into him.
But Victor doesn’t complain. He gives back as good as he gets and he bobbing
his head up and down on Yuri’s cock, taking him all the way. Yuri tries to warn
him when he’s coming but he can’t think straight. All he can do is push himself
as deep as he can into Victor’s throat.
He comes like that, the best and strongest orgram he’s ever had, all because of
Victor’s mouth.. Victor swallows every drop and makes sure that Yuri can see
him do it too. Yuri’s cock twitches when he realizes that Victor didn’t spill
any of it.
Yuri falls back and scoots over when Victor goes to lie beside him. He watches
him, unsure if they should be kissing or hugging right now. People like to
cuddle after sex or something, right? Then Victor’s leg brushes against him,
and Yuri jolts a little when he feels that Victor is still wearing pants.
“I didn’t do you,” Yuri says.
“Mm, it’s fine,” Victor says dreamily. For a moment Yuri thinks that he came in
his pants and he’s about to feel so proud but then he realizes that Victor is
barely half hard. “Watching you was so good. Beautiful.”
“But-”
“Aren’t you always calling me old?” Victor teases and Yuri can’t understand
that. It’s a joke, because it usually makes Victor frown and that’s the most
reaction he can get out of him someday that isn’t that creepy pasted on smile
that seems to fool everyone from random so called fans to Yakov. “Come here.”
Yuri lets himself fall into Victor’s embrace, his head tucked under Victor’s
chin; he doesn’t know where to put his hands and he knows he’s too tense. But
Victor just sighs like he’s perfectly content and he absently presses kisses
into Yuri’s hair. It feels nice and soon enough Yuri can feel the tension
leaving him as he molds himself to Victor’s shape.
“Will you take my throne, Yura?” Victor asks, so soft that Yuri can barely hear
him, even when they’re pressed up like this. But he does hear and Yuri’s heart
aches at the sound of his name coming from Victor’s lips.
“No,” Yuri says. He clenches his fists against Victor’s chest. “I’m going to
smash it. I’ll break every single one of your records.”
Victor traces his face then smiles, a little twisted and ecstatic in a way Yuri
doesn't think he’ll ever understand. He wonders if Victor is half asleep
already. This doesn’t seem like something Victor would say while awake.
“Good,” Victor says. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need your help,” Yuri says. “I just want you there.”
“To see?”
“With me,” Yuri says. He doesn’t say that he wants them to stay like this, that
it’s what he’s wished for ever since he saw Victor skate and realized the
difference between his smiles for the cameras and the ones he gives Yuri.
Victor is quiet for a moment then nods, playing with a strand of Yuri’s hair
with a soft smile that is more real than any other expression he’s had tonight.
“With you,” Victor confirms.
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