Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12855558.
  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:
      otayuri_-_Freeform, this_is_a_pretty_basic_otayuri_fic, Awkward_Sex,
      Awkward_after_sex, general_awkwardness_about_sex, Hand_Jobs, Oral_Sex,
      sexytime_in_the_shower, this_is_pretty_basic, Porn_Without_Plot, its_just
      porn, Otabek_is_a_dork, two_virgins, basic_first_time
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-28 Words: 2251
****** absolute beginners ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     It’s hard to look cool when you’re having sex.
Notes
     I owe both Phayte and Annabeth for beta’ing this. Thank you guys so
     much! Two live betas! Holy canole!
Sex was a big mistake. Kissing was easy. Everything after was a trainwreck. It
all went wrong. Otabek didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
Otabek knew how to give him soft, breathy little presses against the lips. He
knew how to stroke his tongue against Yuri’s. How to make Yuri whimper and
whine and wiggle on his lap. He could definitely kiss.
Showing up at Yuri’s apartment was a forty five hundred kilometer impulse
Otabek could no more kill than the glee in Yuri’s eyes when he answered
Otabek’s knock. “What are you doing here?”
Stupid question, but Otabek had a good answer.
“Oh my god!” Yuri slammed the door as Otabek slammed him up against a wall in
an apartment he had pieced together through Skype and Instagram and text
photos. Yuri’s hands raked through Otabek’s hair and Yuri’s mouth opened for
him and he wrapped his legs around him and finally — finally! — they were going
to do it. “You’re so cool!” Yuri liked the leather jacket. And the jeans. “Tell
me you brought your bike.”
Otabek wasn’t that crazy. He made a mental note to rent one as he carried Yuri
down a white hall and toward the blue couch that served as background in way
too many videos and photos. It was a creature with hundreds of parts on his
cloud account. Now it held Yuri like a promise in its phantom prongs for Otabek
to pluck like a dish. “Fuck me.” Yuri peeled off his clothes like wrapping and
Otabek pulled them all off until he was naked and willing and waiting and
wanting and —
Otabek was falling into creamy pink skin and he knocked the air out of Yuri
when they hit the carpet. The bottle of lube fell out of his pocket and it was
somewhere under the couch and Yuri was trying his best not to gag on him but he
was. And his teeth - Yuri had too many teeth as far as Otabek’s cock was
concerned. “Let’s just - “ He didn’t know what to do with his hands as he tried
to rearrange Yuri into some kind of legs wide open shape. “Let’s keep it
simple.”
The lube bottle was covered on cat hair. Then the lube seemed to attract cat
hair when it wasn’t getting poured directly onto the sofa.
They couldn’t get it in. “No!” Yuri yelped after one finger, a lot of cursing,
and one failed push with Otabek’s dick. They ended up staring awkwardly over
each other’s shoulders as they jerked each other off. Otabek was staring at a
framed Junior World’s gold medal when he came.
“You want something to drink?” Yuri is dressed in a huge slack T-shirt now,
like a hospital patient, holding up a bottle he’s probably ready to throw.
Otabek’s not so cool, now that he’s failed at the one thing Yuri wanted most.
He’s a disappointment, like Nikiforov. No, worse. Nikiforov can still hit gold.
And he probably knows how to do more than kiss.
What the hell was he thinking?
++
He kissed Yuri Plisetsky in Barcelona, after that first day. Otabek knew it
would happen; he could feel it hovering between them as they stood in the
elevator, as Otabek walked him to his room, as Otabek took the card key out of
Yuri’s shaking hand and swiped his mouth over Yuri’s as the magnetic strip
passed through its slot.
“Wow, really?” Yuri said it softly, sweetly. Just the way Otabek always
imagined he would. And he looked even softer and sweeter. “Took you all day.”
Otabek touched his cheek. Then his lower lip. “Wanted to save the best for
last.” He did. And he had planned it that way. Including that line. Everything
had to go according to plan if he was going to win Yuri Plisetsky.
“When did you know you wanted to kiss me?” His mouth was close.
Otabek got closer. Close enough to press his upper lip to his and smile against
his mouth. “Since the beginning of time.” But he didn’t kiss him again. He just
gently pushed Yuri into his room and tapped him on the nose. “See you on the
ice, Plisetsky.”
++
Netflix is supposed to be background noise during sex. It isn’t supposed to be
what people stare at while they wonder why they just had terrible sex.
With a big wet lube stain between them.
“You want Chinese takeout?”
Otabek dares himself to look Yuri’s way. He’s staring at the big screen like
he’s never seen zombies before and he doesn’t know what to call them. “Not in
my food plan. Carbs.”
“Just chicken and veggies, no rice. To go.” Yuri glances at Otabek like he’s
not sure he’s supposed to. “Does that count for losing virginity?”
“No. Lots of virgins ask to hold rice. Pretty sure.” Otabek doesn’t want to
talk about it. Besides, jokes are cool. Humor is cool. Yuri might still think
Otabek is cool. So he smiles.
Yuri just gets on his phone. “They deliver in an hour.”
Will he even be here in an hour? How?
“What?” Yuri shifts from one leg to another and Otabek can still see the greasy
lube shine on his inner thigh. “You wanna try messing around some more?”
Otabek pulls at his shirt. He pulls and he falls to his knees. He doesn’t know
a cool way to say he’s going to make it up to him. That’s okay. Otabek is all
about working things out. He looks up when Yuri’s hand combs through his hair.
“Is that okay with you?”
He doesn’t smile. He beams like sunshine. “Fuck yeah.”
Otabek is good at kissing. So that’s what he’s going to do. He’s just going to
kiss Yuri here. He lifts the shirt and he’s staring at the pinkest, ripest dick
his imagination failed to concoct over the span of years. Otabek’s mouth waters
and his hands - he knows he wants them on Yuri, somewhere - he puts his hands
on his flat, firm belly and he looks up. And he kisses him. Right on the belly
button.
Yuri giggles but it’s fine. Everything is fine. Yuri’s still smiling down at
him.
Then he kisses his pelvic bone. His thigh. He stops when Yuri fists his hair.
“Don’t stop.” And he looks up again when he comes front and center and that
sweet, pink cock is just a breath away. “Please?” God, that smile.
He kisses the tip, the foreskin, and he can taste the cherry lube. He can
almost taste the piss when he opens his mouth and he presses his tongue flat
against the tip and he looks up again.
Is he doing this right?
“Keep going.” They aren’t words. Just little huffs that somehow work together
and Otabek moans when Yuri thrusts a little. Just a little.
He likes it.
Otabek closes his eyes. He swirls his tongue around his head and he feels
Yuri’s hands slide down his jaw and he feels one hand slide away and Yuri is
jerking himself off. Otabek covers his hand. He wants to know how to touch him.
He just leaves it there as he sucks.
He learns how to keep the touch light on Yuri’s foreskin. He listens and he
hears Yuri’s breath hitch when he pulls his mouth back and forth with just a
little suction. And he tastes the precome on his tongue.
“Beka.” Yuri puts Otabek’s hand around his cock. “Please, Beka?” His knees
shake and he falls with a soft plop on the sofa. Otabek follows and he cups
Yuri’s balls and he holds Yuri’s cock and he opens his mouth and he takes more
in. “Yeah please please please — Yeah!”
His hand moves and he’s trying so hard to suck while Yuri thrusts up and he
wants to make it so so good and he’s going to as long as those sweet moans keep
coming and those hands keep scrambling over his scalp, because Yuri Plisetsky
is going to be his and no one else’s. Otabek will blow him every day they’re
together. He will get on his knees and he will suck until Yuri is dry. “I’m
going to kiss you everywhere.” Did he say that out loud?
Otabek pushes his knees back. Huffs as Yuri sobs, “Oh my god! Oh fuck! Not
there!” And presses his open mouth against him.
“Everywhere.” Presses his tongue inside him. He forgets to wonder what to do
with his hands as he grips that tight ass and he tongue fucks him.
The cherry lube and the sobbing and the hand in his hair and Yuri spread out
for him. Only him. Always him. Never anyone else but him. Right here, between
Yuri’s legs.
“I’m going to come!”
“Come for me.” Otabek jerks him off fast and hard as his tongue pushes in deep
and he moans as Yuri jerks up and grabs his head and Yuri yells his name. He
comes, and Otabek feels his dick pulse and he’s somehow coming too, fucking up
his pants as he pushes in one more time.
++
He kissed Yuri Plisetsky for the second time, at the Barcelona airport. Yuri
had roped him into the circle of his arms and beamed up at him with sunshine
and all that adrenaline. “My friend!”
Friends didn’t swipe their tongues together. Friends didn’t lick their friends’
lower lips, stroke for stroke. They didn’t stare into each other's eyes as the
very non-platonic kiss broke off, until their coaches pulled them apart and
threw them into their respective and opposing routes. Friends didn’t eye fuck
each other until they were out of sight.
“Did you see that, Viktor? He’s a thousand times cooler than your sad ass!”
++
If the first time was awkward the second time was painful. Yuri’s legs plopped
on the cushions and Otabek sat up right away. Yuri was pink and breathless and
looking everywhere but back at Otabek. “Um, do you want me to — “ Yuri couldn’t
even look at him.
“I’m good.”
“Oh.” Yuri shoved his shirt over his soft wet dick and he took a deep breath
like he was going to say something. And instead of saying anything he let out a
soft little sigh and scrambled his way to the the bathroom like a scalded cat.
This is how Otabek finds himself alone with a sticky load in his pants as the
shower runs and Otabek’s thoughts run and and he’s pretty sure there are still
plane flights running to Almaty tonight.
No. He’s not a quitter and Yuri — he knows Yuri liked it — they just don’t know
what to say or to do. And that makes sense because they’re absolute beginners.
And maybe, maybe Otabek needs to stop trying to look cool and start trying to
figure out what Yuri needs.
He takes off his shirt. His pants are sticky and he kicks them off after his
shoes as he goes down the white hall and he knocks on the white door, naked,
hoping he’s right. “Hey, you okay?”
The door cracks open and one shy green eye is eyeing him. “You’re not wearing
clothes.”
Otabek feels his cheeks burn and he feels Yuri’s eyes all over him and he tries
to forget about playing it cool. It’s so hard. What if Yuri Plisetsky figures
him out? “I - I need a shower, too.”
Yuri bites his lip. Yuri opens the door. Yuri steps aside as Otabek steps into
the steam and the tile and the revelation that is Yuri’s naked creamy body.
God, he is so beautiful. And Otabek? Otabek is just some naked creep - and it’s
too late. Yuri will be able to see right through him because Otabek can’t stop
staring.
“Would you -“ Yuri steps close, as if he isn’t disgusted by all the things
Otabek did back there “ - would you take a shower with me?”
It’s like a dream. Soap slides down Yuri’s back like every drop of come Otabek
ever had for Yuri. Water sluices over his skin and Otabek follows its trail
with his eyes until Yuri holds out a cloth and asks with one look over his
shoulder.
Somehow he’s allowed to be here. Some way he’s rubbing more soap and more
dreams into that flushed skin and Yuri is kissing him again. Touching him back
and he’s smiling. “I’m so glad you came.”
He’s glad. He doesn’t want Otabek to leave. He’s happy. He wants Otabek to
stay. To stay. Yuri’s tongue touches his and Otabek groans as Yuri slides to
his knees and looks up in a shower that feels as warm as summer rain when Yuri
smiles.
++
The last time he kissed Yuri Plisetsky was at the St Petersburg airport, one
week after they lost their virginity in Yuri’s one bedroom apartment. Their
hands were linked. Their lips were soft and their eyes were closed as they
savored one last taste of afternoon piroshkis and coffee on each other’s
tongues.
“Be good,” Otabek said as he pulled back, as he tucked Yuri’s hair behind his
ear, as he smiled at that sunshine smile one last time.
Yuri rubbed his nose against his and laughed. “You’re such a dork.” He laughed
as Otabek turned bright red. “Oh my god, you’re so adorable! How am I going to
say goodbye, you big goofball?”
Otabek blushed all the way to the gate. He was the least cool looking guy to
ever wear a leather jacket. And Yuri Plisetsky still liked him.
Somehow.
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