Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12026061.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Otabek_Altin/Jean-Jacques_Leroy, Otabek_Altin/Jean-Jacques_Leroy/Yuri
      Plisetsky, Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky, Jean-Jacques_Leroy/Isabella_Yang,
      Jean-Jacques_Leroy/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Jean-Jacques_Leroy, Otabek_Altin, Yuri_Plisetsky, Jean-Jacques_Leroy's
      father, Isabella_Yang
  Additional Tags:
      Otapliroy, Jjbek, otayuri_-_Freeform, Pliroy, Bloodplay, Hand_Jobs,
      Blowjobs, Anal_Sex, Jealousy, bipolar_JJ, Kink, Knife_Kink, cutting
      fetish, Blood_Fetish, Break_Up, Angst, Mental_Illness, jjbella_breakup
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-07 Words: 2862
****** cut me up ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     They're all crazy. All three of them.
Notes
     Phayte
     made this request on tumblr: BloodPlay - OtaPliRoy. Okay, I gave it
     my very worst. Never did bloodplay before.
     Also, totally been stealing "Sweet Jean," from BoxWineConfessions
     , lately. If you're gonna steal, steal from the best.
Otabek was going to kill him, but it was worth it. JJ shook out one pill. In a
week this would all be over. The meds would stop emotions from exploding in his
chest and he could feel something like peace. He stared at the capsule in his
hand. Everything seemed like a choice, but that wasn't true. But once a thing
starts, it's got to play out.
JJ sipped the water and popped it in his mouth.
++
No is how people start to say goodbye. Goodbye started one morning, while they
shaved. Otabek took the razor out of his hand and shaved JJ before he shaved
himself. He didn't think he meant to cut him, until - JJ thought he was
kidding. Otabek didn't laugh with him. He just wiped down JJ’s face, his razor
and left the restroom without shaving himself.
Goodbye was at the lake, when they were doing more jerking off than watching
the lines. Otabek noticed JJ’s pole line first. He reeled it in. He took out
his Bowie knife. But he didn't gut the fish. JJ laughed again, and said no.
“What are you, crazy? No way.”
Otabek sliced clean through the trout’s belly without another word.
JJ knew crazy. He was best friends with crazy. Crazy kept him up all night with
a million ideas and got him up at four in the morning. Crazy gave him JJ Style
and gave him the idea to toss all his medals in the lake once he got home. So
I'll always know where they are. Crazy made all his coaches drop him. The he
sobbed and screamed. Crazy made him break car windows. Sing on his rooftop.
Yeah, he knew crazy when he saw it. Maybe that was why Otabek kept asking him?
Maybe crazy had a smell Otabek had picked up? Maybe.
Goodbye was when Otabek crawled on top of JJ one night with that knife between
his teeth. He licked the flat, so close to the edge. “Bet you taste so sweet,
Jean.” JJ stared at his tongue. There was a drop of blood, just a drop. “Taste
me, first?”
They'd kissed, once before. JJ snuck a six pack Molsen’s from the yellow
Frigidaire Papa kept in the garage. He caught hell for it the next day, but it
was worth it. The buzz pushed JJ’s lips against Otabek's, and they pressed
their tongues together and JJ laughed because they kept bumping noses. But this
was different. This was not funny. Otabek shoved his tongue in JJ’s mouth. And
then he cut him. It didn't hurt. It just stung a little. Still.
”Tabernac!”JJ touched his neck. “You trying to kill me?”
“Not kill.” Otabek bent his head. JJ felt his tongue swipe over the cut. Felt
the soft huff of his breath against his skin. “Yeah, you're sweet.”
“No way, man.” JJ wanted to push him away. This was crazy. Yeah, crazy. But
then again, so was JJ. Maybe he couldn't keep it from happening, even if he
said no. Maybe he needed to pray. Pray, right now, and beg the Virgin Mary for
Intercession, renounce these sins of the flesh and live a pure life: No more
messing around with Otabek. Yeah, that was what he had to do. “Get off me.”
“You don't want that.” Otabek licked him, again. Holy Virgin Mary wasn't there
to keep it from feeling good. “I bet you're hard.” JJ balled up his fist and
Otabek caught it. “Not even trying, are you?” JJ shook his head, but it was the
truth. “I'm going to make this real easy for you, Jean.” He pried open JJ's
fist and pushed the knife into his hand. “You can do it to me if you want.”
JJ’s hand fell when Otabek leaned down. His fingers let go when Otabek sucked
on his neck. The knife fell to the floor, and JJ gasped right before Otabek
came back up and kissed him, again. He tasted himself. He didn't want to, but
he couldn't stop it. Not when Otabek’s hand was already down his pajama pants.
Not when Otabek ripped them off. Not even when he sucked on his neck some more,
then spat blood and spit on their dicks. Not when Otabek kept licking and
sucking. “God, I knew you'd taste sweet.” Not when JJ came, so hard, when
Otabek whispered that over and over again with the squeaking mattress.
He should've said no. He knew that like he knew his own name. Papa was a
tolerant man, kind to a fault. He could overlook a little drinking, a few
manigances, because boys will be boys, and all that. But when he found them
tangled up together after they missed the four o'clock alarm? When he realized
this quiet Kazakh boy had been sleeping with his firstborn son? Alain Leroy had
one word to say, over and over. ”Non, non, non, non!”
That was goodbye.
++
He was going to marry Isabella, he was going to have a talk with Otabek, and
Otabek was going to tell him it was all just some crazy thing, and he was going
to win gold at Barcelona. But the best laid plans went to hell, inevitably,
because plans didn't mean a thing when events were set in motion. Maybe he
should've taken those pills, like the doctor said? Maybe he needed the buffer
before he saw Otabek, again? But he had training. He had prayer. He had the
approving looks of his parents as he held the hand of a nice girl. It felt like
enough, until Barcelona.
Until Otabek looked at him like a stranger, when he stood arm in arm with her.
Until Otabek and that kid, Yuri Plisetsky, became this thing. Until Otabek
looked at him, like the enemy, when he was in the ice.
And Plisetsky? Otabek wanted Plisetsky. Lovely, graceful, irresistible
Plisetsky. He was just a kid. He had no business looking the way he looked -
like something JJ could devour, whole. Oh, JJ got why Otabek wanted him. If JJ
was going to be honest with himself, if he looked into the murky thing he
called his conscience, he wanted a piece of that, for himself. Crisse! What was
wrong with him? He was so, so sick in the head --
This feeling, this constant explosion in his chest -- JJ was afraid. Afraid he
would scream and hit and break things again. And he couldn't. No. The world was
a fragile place. So fragile, so breakable. He was scared one word, one touch
would shatter everything. He would deserve every cut it gave him, too.
That was why he told her to go away. “Leave!” She was too good for him. To
kind, too pure. He didn't mean to scream when he said it. He didn't mean to,
just like Papa didn't mean to scream at him and Otabek. JJ slammed his hand
against the bathroom door he'd locked himself behind. “Leave!” But she wouldn't
leave. She kept saying she loved him. She would marry him anyway. That she
didn't understand why he was doing this. So he had to do it. Break her a little
so he wouldn't break her, completely. “I fuck men!” It was only the one. Only
him. But what did it matter? “I fuck men, understand? I don't want to marry
you!”
He threw the bronze medal against the door. It left a mark. Then he tossed it
in the trash can. Maman would probably fish it out, later. She always did. And
then he would toss it in the ocean before he left Spain. He never wanted to be
near it, again. Just like she would never want to be near him.
It was all bound to happen.
He tripped over himself as he walked down the hall, feeling light headed,
passing for drunk even though he was dead sober, running into his own
reflection over and over, in glass paneling, and the men's room mirror, hating
what he saw. He lost his girl. He lost the gold. He was nothing but crazy. So
damn crazy.
“Where are you going, Jean?”
He came out of a shadow, or maybe around a corner, and he was looking at him,
really looking at him, and he could see everything that was wrong with him. “I
don't know?”
Otabek leaned against the wall. Otabek hooked his finger around his collar.
Otabek pulled him close. Real close. And whispered in his ear. “I do.”
++
He feels close to nothing, flat, like a pancake. He might have felt
anticipation turn inside of him, but he can't. And that's okay. He might have
even felt turned on, but he hasn't had a hard on for days, now. He might not
even be able to get it up, tonight.
It's unavoidable. He is like a knife in a leather sheath. Nothing can touch
him, anymore.
Not Yuri Plisetsky, when he opens the hotel door, wearing nothing but a tshirt.
“Took you long enough.” Not Otabek, when he slips his arm around Yuri and
whispers something dirty enough to make him blush. Not when Yuri get on his
knees as Otabek closes the door behind JJ. Gets behind JJ. Reaches around and
unbuckles his belt as Yuri looks up and licks his lips. “I'm going to suck you
off.”
All JJ can say is, “Good luck.”
++
He took him to a door at the end of a long hall, took him to a room that felt
like the last one he would walk through, again. He took off JJ’s jacket, as if
they had done this a thousand times before, and hung it in a double door
closet.
“Who's in the shower?” JJ asked. As if he didn't already know. There was the
smallest red dot on the white bed sheets. Of course he knew.
Otabek shrugged. “He wanted to get cleaned up.” JJ nodded as Otabek began to
unbutton his shirt. “He's not happy, you know. Even though he won gold. But
who's ever happy, really?” Otabek gives him one of those small, bland non-
smiles.
“How've you been?” He meant to ask over a nice civil lunch, as a nice civil
man, with his nice fiancé. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
Otabek pushed him on the bed and pulled off one shoe. Then another. The socks
went into the shoes. The shoes went under the bed. “Oh, the same. I'd ask the
same if you.” He motioned for him to stand. And JJ did. “But, you know…”
His pants, his shorts, his watch and ring went, too. Otabek held the last one
up, looked at JJ through it. “Do you need this back?”
JJ shrugged. “Oh, you know…” He tried to smile.
“Funny as ever.” Otabek dropped it in the trash bin, just as the bathroom door
opened. “Say hello to Yuri, JJ.”
He'd seen the kid near naked, already, and understood why Otabek wanted him. He
was not a boy, and not a man, but somewhere in that strange, beautiful in
between. He should've been making out with one of those Angels of his, a little
girl who would put her hand down his pants and let him touch her, underneath
her bra. He shouldn't have those cuts on his neck. Near his nipple. On his
thigh. “Hey.” He shouldn't have been here at all. But he was.
“Otabek says you're into blood.” He lifted his chin. Narrowed his eyes. He
could probably tell just by looking at JJ, that he was crazy enough to say yes.
JJ shrugged again. “I guess.”
“You want some of mine? You wanna taste it?”
Otabek walked behind Yuri. Young, fifteen year old Yuri. Put a razor to his
neck, as Yuri smiled.
“What are you waiting for, stupid? Go ahead,” said Yuri. It was the smallest
whisper. “I like it.”
God in heaven, he was just a kid.
++
Otabek's fingers are so close to the base of JJ’s dick, like he's making a
target and Yuri is hitting it, with every bob. And it's not completely
pointless, JJ is half hard. It's harder than he's been in a while.
JJ huffs, one little laugh, as Otabek nuzzles the short hairs of his undercut.
“Smell so good, Jean. I like that cologne.” He should say he won't like the
taste as much as the smell. He should warn him. He's not clean. But at least
he's not so crazy. Otabek nips at his neck. “Wanna taste you.”
He closes his eyes and he feels something close to a rush. It's like watching
ocean waves on television, as Yuri growls. He's hard. At least there's that. It
won't matter in a few minutes.
Otabek presses the Bowie knife against his neck. Presses his cheek against his.
Whispers, with his mouth so close JJ can almost taste the Colgate. “Want to?”
JJ nods. “Cut me.” He just mouths it. Nothing, not meds, not prayer, not the
Holy Mother herself, stop the sting. JJ shivers because he feels it.
He feels it.
Yeah. It's like he's a knife and Otabek took him out of the sheath. Because
Otabek's mouth, Yuri's mouth - they're sucking so hard on him. He's being
devoured. He's being eaten alive.
And then it happens. JJ is proven wrong, and he wonders why he's even
surprised. “So sweet…” Otabek grabs his chin and makes JJ taste it. “Just like
I like it.” The meds don't matter. JJ laughs, because they were his last hope.
Yuri reaches up and scratches his chest. It hurts, and JJ isn't surprised to
see Yuri drew blood. Just a little.
“Let's get you to bed, Jean.”
What does he need with hope, anyway?
++
Barcelona was about losing. Losing his mind, his girl, and thankfully, finally,
mercifully, himself. Losing himself as Otabek smeared blood all over his lips.
It might've been his. It might've been Yuri's. JJ didn't know. Barcelona was
about losing himself on a stained bed, between two bodies, alternating between
fucking and getting fucked as Otabek made little cuts on their fingers and made
them suck. Made JJ pull out of Yuri so Otabek could fuck him. Pushed Yuri's
dick up JJ's ass. Then made Yuri pull out, so Otabek could go back to fucking
JJ. And there was blood. So much blood.
JJ loved it.
He loved the way it felt. Like everything he ever broke was cutting into him.
It felt like what he deserved for breaking his parents’ hearts, his
girlfriend’s heart, everyone’s hearts. He loved the way Yuri spat that mix of
spit and blood into his mouth. He loved the way Otabek pulled at his hair.
Called him dirty and sweet all at the same time. Loved how they laid him out
and smeared him with blood and come and spit. Loved how they rubbed it in his
cuts and made it burn.
Otabek put Yuri on JJ’s lap. “Bounce him.” He whispered it in JJ’s ear. “I want
you two to play real nice with each other.”
Yuri snorted. Then he sat on JJ’s dick and ground him into oblivion as Otabek
cut him some more. And they both licked it up, both Otabek and Yuri. Moaned
when they spat it on Yuri's dick, as they put JJ's hand around it, as all three
jerked Yuri off.
Barcelona was about forgetting who he was.
++
JJ is ready to let Otabek cut him up. He's ready for Otabek to push that knife
into his chest and make the explosions stop. He's ready for anything, really,
because he has no control. He is just floating in the lake with all his medals.
He is just crashing through this world, making messes, destroying everything.
He knows now this is the only place that's safe for someone like him. Someone
so crazy.
Because Yuri is crazy. He likes it when Otabek holds a knife to his throat,
like he's doing right now, while he takes turns sucking off Otabek and JJ. Yuri
is crazy, because he let Otabek carve his initials on his ass. He's crazy
because he talks about coming blood so they can all swallow gallons of it.
And Otabek is crazy. JJ always knew he was crazy, ever since that first night
in JJ’s bedroom, when Otabek closed the door and let JJ give him a hand job.
But he really went off the deep end, bringing Plisetsky into the mix. God in
Heaven forgive them both - the kid just turned sixteen.
But JJ is still the craziest one of all. Crazy because he really thought he
could be normal. Because he thought he could be same. He doesn't even know
what’s real, anymore, because Otabek's giving him the Bowie knife. “You never
gave me what I wanted, back then in Montreal.” Otabek takes JJ’s hand, he puts
the knife to his own throat. “Cut me, Jean. I want to feel it, too.”
JJ presses the knife in. Otabek gasps and he nods and he sighs when JJ puts his
mouth on the cut, then puts his open mouth against Yuri’s, so he can have some,
too. Otabek tastes so, so good.
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