Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12386874.
  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, Dominant_Otabek, Yuri_is_a_very_naughty_boy, otabek
      is_a_control_freak, First_Time_Blow_Jobs, Blow_Job, First_Time, Finger
      Fucking, Anal_Sex, crawling, kitten_play, PWP, its_just_porn_yall, Porn,
      otayuri_porn, First_Time_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-17 Words: 3522
****** control issues ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Taking control of Yuri is not so easy.
     (Just some otayuri porn if you like that kind of thing.)
Notes
     Thank you to Phayte for the encouragement, the beta, the critique,
     and for being my dude-bro. This was all her fault. She told me to do
     it.
     Dude.
Yuri Plisetsky is just fifteen and he’s crawling on top of Otabek’s lap. He’s
bouncing up and down and laughing, he’s got a bottle of vodka- where the hell
did he get that? - and he keeps bouncing up and down. “Can you believe the look
on everyone’s face?” He’s just fifteen under all the raccoon eye makeup and
body glitter. Fifteen under the barely there tee and way-too-tight leather.
Fifteen. Too young to touch. Old enough to know better. “Otabek!” His hands are
clenched over his head. He’s doing this sick little wiggle-wiggle-wiggle, right
on Otabek’s knee. He knows what he’s doing to him. “Best part?” Otabek’s dick
twitches with every other wiggle. “They’ll never see me as some innocent little
fairy, after that.” Yuri laughs and Yuri slips his hands under Otabek’s leather
jacket and Yuri bites his cherry gloss lip as he slides that ass up Otabek’s
thigh. He’s leaning in way too close. He ought to know better, he’s only
fifteen, and he knows Otabek isn’t supposed to react. “And it’s all thanks to
you.” That wiggle is way too close. He’s way too close. He knows he’s too
close.
One kiss isn’t going to hurt anything. Hell, they kissed last night, when Yuri
leaned against his shoulder, drowning in a Otabek’s hoodie, all eyes as he
stared up at him like some star struck kid - all because he saw Otabek in a DJ
booth. He giggled when Otabek leaned in and caught his chin. He laughed after
Otabek pulled away after a few soft swipes against his tongue. It was nervous
laughter, the kind that only feeds energy it’s meant to tamp down. It made
Otabek shiver as he pulled away.
“Thank you Beka.” His lips taste like cheap candy and his hands feel cold and
his tongue tastes like vodka. He can manage a mouth. He turns away after one
hot minute when the wiggles got a little unmanageable and Otabek’s dick decided
it liked unmanageable. “What?” The gloss is smeared all over Yuri’s face, and
probably all over his, too. “I know you like it.” He reaches down. He laughs
when Otabek swats him away. “Oh! You think I don’t know you’re hard? Don’t be a
jerk!” He presses his forehead against Otabek’s. “You’re my friend, right?”
Friends don’t plan chance meetings with fifteen year old angels who just grew
up enough to know their bodies could send men straight to hell. Friends didn’t
masturbate furiously to those fifteen year olds’ photos and videos. Didn’t
imagine what those sweet lips felt like on a dick. What that sweet ass tasted
like. Felt like when it slid down Otabek’s cock. As he rode that cock with a
bounce, bounce, bounce —
And he’s bouncing right now. “I want it, Beka!” He’s begging. “I want you to
give it to me!” And it hardly took any effort at all. Didn’t take months of
Skype calls and texts. No carefully selected Amazon gifts. No mix tapes made
especially for his candy coated little heart. No deliciously long wait to draw
him out like a taut string Otabek could pluck and pluck and fuck, once he was
significantly more than sixteen and legal.
He doesn’t like that. It’s not part of the plan. As delicious as he is, as
dirty sexy as he wants to think he is, Yuri Plisetsky is fifteen and fifteen
wasn’t part of the plan.
“You gonna do it?”
He can pout and he can make that angry little line between his eyes and he can
start spitting fire if he likes, but Otabek is done. He’s going to take that
bottle away, down what’s left for himself, and send the dirty little package
back to Feltsman. He’ll be even hotter, even more desperate for what Otabek’s
offering when it’s all said and done.
“Fuck it.” He tugs the rubber band out of his hair. He throws his hair around.
He smiles as the hair hides his eyes. Light, light pixie bright cotton candy
hair. “It doesn’t have to be you. Everyone saw what I am. I can get whoever.
Whatever, all cause of you.”
What?
Yuri starts rubbing his own crotch. “You think Jeh Jeh would do it?” He doesn’t
like how Yuri says that name. It’s a little too breathy. A little too dirty. “I
think he would. He keeps looking at me when I change. You think he’d fuck me?”
Oh, Otabek is sure he would, and the picture in his head makes his blood boil.
Yuri huffs a little hair away from his eyes as he keeps rubbing himself. “I
think he’d fuck me. He’s hung, too. Ever notice? I always notice,” he rubs his
nipple, too, “when someone’s hung.”
Dirty. Yuri Plisetsky was dirty. He wanted dick and he didn’t care who it was
or how he got it.
“You mad?” Yuri grinned. “I’m a bad, bad boy now, Beka. You made me bad.”
God damn him. God damn Otabek. God damn this sick feeling that turned him
inside out every time he saw Yuri Plisetsky’s picture, heard Yuri Plisetsky’s
name, thought of Yuri Plisetsky. He needed control. And when he looked at this
crazy thing on his lap. This sugar sex kitten? Yeah, he made Plisetsky think he
could be all these things. Yeah, he bought the clothes and makeup. He stood out
there on the ice, like a pimp clocking his trick. And now he had to reign this
little sex kitten in.
“Bad boy, huh?” He pulls Yuri by the hair. Pulls him close and pulls tight
until he is looking up and the air rushes out of his exposed throat. “Baby, you
wouldn’t know bad if it smacked your face with his dick.” Otabek has to laugh
when Yuri tries to pull away. “No, no, no. You were telling me about how you
wanted to fuck Leroy. I got his number. Why don’t I just have him come down and
give you some of that dick you want so bad?” He shakes him. “Hm? I bet we could
get the whole roster in here once word gets out. Who knows? If I charge I might
make a little money while you get all that dick.” Otabek traces Yuri’s
trembling lips. “Down your throat. Up your ass. Two, three and four guys at a
time. I bet there are audience members, fans, judges, who took great interest
in your little show and want a special performance.”
He let go. He grabbed that panting, flushing face. He looked into those big,
big eyes. He nodded. “So when I say you wouldn’t know bad, it’s because you
couldn’t tell: you’re sitting right on bad’s lap.”
He licks his lips. Not because he thinks it’s going to get some reaction. No,
Otabek can tell Yuri is shocked. Good. Otabek likes that. He can control that.
Mold him with that. “You — you’re not really going to — to — “
“Ever had a man fuck you? I’m not talking those cute little finger bangs you
kids do in juniors. I mean, a full grown man. Full penetration.”
Yuri shakes his head.
“Of course not.” Otabek smiles. He knows what his smirk looks like. He knows it
doesn’t make people feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It scares them. It should.
“And yet you sit on my lap, wiggle your little virgin ass on my dick and talk
like a dirty little slut.”
“I - “ No. Not a word. Otabek puts one finger up and he’s silent.
“You want a man to fuck you, baby boy? You want some dick?” Otabek pushes him
off his lap. He stands up. He takes the bottle and has a good long drink until
the burn blurs the edges. “Show me.”
“How?”
He goes to the toilet. Kicks the lid up and lets Yuri watch him take a piss
with his half hard dick. “Get on your hands and knees.”
He doesn’t need to look to know he did it.
“Crawl.”
He’s done pissing but he’s not moving. He lets himself watch Yuri slink like a
dirty alley cat, biting his lip as he looks up with hungry, hungry eyes and
crawls.
Otabek nudges him away with his foot when he touches his thigh. “No. You have
to work for it.”
Yuri blinks and frowns and bites his lip. It’s cute. Luckily Otabek likes cute.
“Be a good kitty for me.” And luckily Yuri isn’t stupid. He looks up as he rubs
his cheek against Otabek’s jeans. “That’s it.” He rubs his hair, his shoulder
and his belly on Otabek’s leg. “Hands and knees.” Otabek nudges again. The name
of the game is control and he’s going to win. “If kitty wants something, then
he needs to be sweet.” His dick is still in his hand and he hasn’t shaken that
last drop of piss off. “He can’t just think about himself.” He turned and Yuri
is sitting at his feet. “After all, it’s not all about you, right?”
Yuri shakes his head.
“Lick it clean.”
He sits up. He opens his mouth. He sticks out his tongue. Ah, he probably never
gave head before. He’s going to get a crash course. Otabek swipes the drop of
piss on the head of his dick over Yuri’s tongue. Before he can pull back and
before he can make a face and before he can even think about stopping Otabek
grabs his head, hooks the corners of Yuri’s mouth with his thumbs and keeps him
there. Keeps his dick on that tongue. Keeps Yuri under control. “I said, lick.
You’ve seen porn. You know how to lick.” He let go and Yuri’s mouth closes over
the head.
He pulls back with the smallest amount of suction, and starts lapping. They’re
small, shy strokes and they’re not nearly good enough. Otabek grabs his cock
and rubs it against Yuri’s tongue. Puts his hand on the back of Yuri’s head,
pushes him down until Yuri is cradling the head in the center of his tongue.
“Like a lollipop. You’ve had lollipops.”
That seems to do the trick. Yuri closes his mouth around it. Sucks as he pulls
off, then looks up and laps at the head before he sucks at it again.
Otabek is getting harder, much harder. He thrusts a little - not too much, yet.
He’s going to have to break him in slow. Just because he’s dirty doesn’t mean
Yuri knows what to do with it. “Just suck it, now.” He does, but he doesn’t
move. Otabek pulls out just a little, pushes back in a little further. Smacks
Yuri’s hands away when he tries to hold on to Otabek’s jeans. “Make it good and
hard for me. Move your head.”
He does, but he’s barely getting past the head. Otabek’s done coddling him. He
grabs his head again and pushes it down, until he gags. “You want dick? You’ve
got to work for dick.” He lets him up. Let’s him catch his breath. Then pushes
it back down. He shouldn’t like the sound Yuri makes. It shouldn’t make his
balls tighten and it shouldn’t make him harder. But fuck, it makes Otabek as
hard as a god damn diamond. “That’s it.” He's got this kitty under control.
But Otabek has to stop, or he’s going to lose control. He’s not going to come
in his mouth. Not yet.
He doesn’t catch the gleam in kitty’s eyes until it’s too late. Until he grabs
Otabek’s cock and balls and not until Yuri shoves Otabek’s cock down his
throat, gags and - shit! Oh, fuck it feels too good and Otabek’s cursing and
he’s coming -
“No!” He keeps Yuri’s head down. “Take it!” He doesn’t let him pull off when
the first shot comes out. He makes him take it. “Swallow! This is what you
wanted!” He thrusts one more time and, fuck! This isn’t how he wanted to come.
He pulls out. Smacks Yuri’s cheek with his wet dick a little when he tries to
spit a little come out. “I said, swallow.” He smacks a few more times, then
pries Yuri’s mouth open with his thumbs, “tongue,” and makes sure he’s
swallowed every drop.
Yuri grins. “Did better than you thought, huh?” Oh, he wants to play
dangerously?
Otabek leans down. He narrows his eyes as Yuri’s grin fades away. “Do you
believe in god, kitty cat?”
“Why?”
“You might want to pray. You are about to find out what happens when you make a
man come before he’s ready.” He grabs Yuri by the hair, hauls him to his feet
and marches his whining, apologetic ass back into the suite. “Quiet.” He pushes
him away. “Take those things off.” Otabek's done with the whore clothes, but
he’s not that impressed with what’s underneath: creamy skin coated in glitter,
and white boxer briefs. “Tiddy whities and body paint?” He walks around Yuri,
snapping the elastic at his rump, running his finger over his shoulder to sneer
at the cheap, sparkling crap Yuri smeared all over himself. “Anybody help you
with this?”
Yuri shakes his head.
“You’re not on your hands and knees playing kitty cat. Speak.”
“No.” Yuri swallows hard. “Are-are you really, uh, are you really mad?” That
little stutter is cute. But Otabek isn’t falling for cute, again.
Otabek tips his chin up. “If I am angry, Yuri, you won't have to ask. It will
be very obvious.”
“Are you going to-to get undressed?”
Seriously? “I’ll get undressed when I feel like getting undressed.” He points
to the plush white sofa. “Sit at the left side.”
Yuri manages to timidly comply. Sits In his undies, obviously hard and
obviously nervous as he pushes his fingers under his thighs and bites his lip.
It’s an act. It’s all an act. This boy isn’t nervous, he’s already scheming.
But Otabek’s isn’t about to let that happen again. “Bend yourself over on the
arm of the sofa. Prop your ass up.” Yuri seems to blink his way into
understanding what Otabek said. But he gets there. He seems to take his time,
more time than Otabek cares for, as if he’s moving in slow motion, stopping and
looking over his shoulder as Otabek sits directly behind him, smacking his ass.
He actually looks surprised. He actually yelps. He actually needs to hurry the
fuck up. He’s got a lot of payback coming his way.
“Ass up.” Otabek grabs his underwear, yanks him over the edge and pulls the
elastic up until his cheeks are exposed. “Comfy?”
“No!” He's sobbing.
Otabek likes that. A lot. “You aren’t going to get fucked with my dick right
now, because you made me come. So you’re going to get fucked with my fingers.”
He smacks those tight little cheeks again. Gets another sweet little yelp,
again. “You’re so tiny.” Otabek rubs his hand over that red mark. Thumbs the
cotton crammed between those cheeks. And pushes, just a little, just enough to
make Yuri whimper. “I’m not small, kitten. You could barely suck me off. I
really wonder if you handle a full grown man up your ass.”
“Beka…” He's trying to get on with it with that sweet pleading voice. And - oh!
He has the nerve to wiggle his ass at him? “Please…”
Smack!
“Don’t you dare.” He reached into his jacket. He pulls out the switchblade.
Flicks it open and cuts the crotch out of those briefs. “Knees apart.” He
actually listens. Actually obeys. And actually keeps quiet - even when Otabek’s
dribbled cheap lube all over that sweet, pink boy pussy.
He doesn’t bother warning Yuri. He shoves one finger right in. He doesn’t care
when Yuri arches his back and wails. He just pushes his finger in and out as
deep and as fast as he can. It’s tight and it’s warm and it’s incredible. He
can’t wait to be right there, but he’s been willing to wait for so long. He’s
willing to wait just a little while longer.
He sits up. He curls his finger. He pushes there. He jabs there. He jabs over
and over as the wails turn to moans and the moans become gibberish. It’s not
Russian. It’s not English. It’s babbling. Otabek loves it. He leans over Yuri
and licks his ear, bites the lobe and whispers: “You like that?”
”Yes!”
“You want another finger?”
Yuri moans and he nods and he looks over his shoulder and sobs when Otabek
shoves it in. When Otabek keeps shoving two fingers in. When Otabek bites down
on his shoulder and marks him.
“You want to come?”
“Oh fuck yes!”
Otabek speeds it up, finger fucks him so fast he has to sit back on the sofa
just to watch his ass bounce against his hand. Then he stops. He keeps his
fingers deep inside and just stays in there.
“So tight.”
”Beka! Pleeeeease!”
Otabek sighs. “Consequences, kitty cat. You’re not coming unless it’s on my
dick. And this is not my dick.” He snorts when Yuri screams in frustration.
And then he starts finger fucking him, all over again. He reaches around this
time, and squeezes Yuri’s balls. Rolls them in his hand while he shoves a third
finger in. And Yuri arches his back, gloriously, like the kitty he is. Looks
over his shoulder, blushing, gasping, beautifully begging with tears and sobs.
Please, Beka. I’m so sorry, Beka. And then it turns into, Beka! Please fuck me,
Beka! Please, Beka! when Otabek stops, right before he comes, again.
The next time, he’s got Yuri on his lap. He’s bouncing on Otabek’s fingers.
Rubbing his own nipples, cupping his own balls as Otabek holds the base of his
cock. Not to jerk him off, but to keep him from coming as he fucks himself on
Otabek’s hand. Otabek’s decided he likes that. He likes that a lot. “Beka I am
so, so sorry. Please fuck me? Please…?”
“Only if you promise to make me hard without making me come.”
Yuri nods furiously. “Oh, I won’t. I promise!”
Otabek pulls his hand away. Yuri’s eyes gleam as he unzips his fly. As he pulls
down his jeans. “Get to it.”
This time Yuri needs no instructions. He slides down between Otabek’s legs and
licks slurps and sucks like a happy little kitty, all eyes as he stares up at
Otabek with a mouth full. Oh, he’s eager this time. And he’s being so good,
too. Not too fast, not too slow. “Come on up here, baby.”
Yuri bites his lip as he straddles Otabek’s lap. Looks in his eyes as he waits.
As Otabek rubs his dick there, right there. Takes a deep breath as Otabek leans
back, arms draped over the sofa cushions and nods. “This is what you wanted,
right?”
“Yeah.”
“Show me what you can do.”
He whimpers but he doesn’t hesitate. He sobs but he doesn’t stop. He grits his
teeth but he never closes his eyes. He keeps looking straight ahead. Straight
at Otabek, as he takes him, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, with the most
blinding heat Otabek’s ever felt.
Control - it’s never been harder to maintain, as Yuri begins to bounce up and
down. Otabek grips the pillows, Otabek breaths, somehow, and Otabek dies a
little with every clap Yuri’s sweet tight ass makes against his thighs. But he
has to maintain that control. He has to win.
And yet - he’s so tight. He’s moaning. His eyes are so wide and it’s so good.
So, so good. Better than any fantasy he ever had. Better than any wet dream.
Anything - nothing is as good as dirty, tight, moaning Yuri.
And he’s leaning forward now. And he’s kissing Otabek now. And he’s sobbing as
Otabek reaches down. As Otabek touches him. Yes! Feel that control.
He needs more. Otabek pulls him close. He fists his hair. He thrusts up,
groaning as Yuri keeps yelling out his name, snaring as Yuri scratches at
Otabek’s shirt, pulls at Otabek’s hair, grabs Otabek’s and begs Otabek as
Otabek thrusts and thrusts and flips him over and thrusts and thrusts.
“Otabek…” Yuri reaches up. Yuri touches his cheek. Yuri pulls him down. Pulls
him down and looks into Otabek’s eyes. His eyes are so green. So blue.
“Beka...” He closes his eyes. But Yuri kisses him. Wraps his arms around him.
Moves with him. “Oh, Beka.”
He wants to hold him forever. Control this moment forever. Have Yuri. Keep
Yuri. Stay inside him until the world fucking ends, and after.
“Beka…” Yuri smiles against Otabek’s lips. Moans as he touches Otabek’s face.
As he kisses him. And it so the most beautiful, sloppy wet kiss, so out of
control - so powerful. Too powerful to resist. Otabek doesn’t even try. Otabek
never felt anything more powerful, more beautiful, than Yuri.
He huffs as Yuri falls apart, as Yuri whines, as Yuri twists and calls his
name. Otabek can’t stop him. Can’t stop Yuri from coming. Can’t stop him from
making Otabek come. He’s got not control over it. No control over any of this.
He gives up pretending.
It feels so good.
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