Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11064507.
  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:
      Yaoi, Just_some_porn, Hand_Job, WAFF, A_little_sappy, otayuri_-_Freeform,
      yuri_is_a_closet_sap
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-01 Words: 1377
****** don't call him out on it ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Yuri Plisestky will swear up and down that he hates lovey-dovey shit,
     despite the fact that he is a sucker for hot chocolate dates,
     marathon make out sessions and maybe even some old soul music. And
     Otabek Altin is a sucker for his beautiful, contradictory ass.
Notes
     Inspired after reading imagines. Ain't nothin' like the real thing.
See the end of the work for more notes
Otabek is staring into his hot chocolate as Yuri explains life as third wheel.
He says Katsuki and Nikiforov are going to give him diabetes. Meanwhile, Yuri
can't get enough of this hot chocolate. He's asking for another cup. “Take
mine.” Otabek doesn't mind, really. He likes hot chocolate, but Yuri makes
these soft huffs of pleasure that he likes more.
Otabek leans back in a leather booth, watching Yuri finish his cup while Al
Green hums through an overhead speaker. There's a little foam on Yuri’s upper
lip, but he licks it up quickly. “No more. I'll kill my calorie count for the
day if I have another one.”
“Why do you dislike seeing them be happy?”
Yuri looks as if Otabek said there was life on Mars. “That lovey dovey shit
makes me wanna puke.”
Otabek shrugs. “It's just affection.”
Yuri swipes his finger inside the cup and sucks the foam off. “What? Don't tell
me you like that shit.”
Otabek smiles. “Wouldn't dream of it.”
“You ready to go?”
Al Green is still playing when Otabek pushes the door open and watches Yuri
brace himself against the hard winter wind. It blows his hoodie back a little,
but Otabek pulls it back over Yuri’s head. He sees a drop of hot chocolate on
Yuri’s lip when he smiles at Otabek. “Thanks.”
Otabek leans in and kisses it off. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
++
Otabek knows contradictions are a part of the human condition. It would be so
easy to call Yuri out as a hypocrite, but then he wouldn't be able bring him to
his room and fall into a kiss that lasts for hours. Contradiction is just a
study in contrasts, like hard muscle over smooth skin, or soft lips and biting
teeth.
“Do that, again?” Yuri smiles as Otabek rubs their noses together, and angles
his head for another pass at his mouth. Yuri likes it when Otabek lingers
there, just barely touching his tongue to his. “Yeah…” Yuri sighs as he does it
again and again, gently tipping Yuri’s jaw up so he can start kissing his neck.
“Why can't we do this all the time? Like, wake up, get coffee, make out, take a
nap, make out some more?”
Otabek sucks, not too hard, on his earlobe. It makes Yuri curl his toes.
Blowing in his ear makes him shiver. “Skating.” He whispers it, like a dirty
secret.
“You know what's funny? I think of you when I'm skating. Not the way Katsudon
does it. I mean, it's not gross. Not like that.” He sits up, then straddles
Otabek’s lap, scooting down until his knees hit the back of the hotel sofa. “I
used to think about all the people I wanted to beat. But now I think of you.”
Otabek combs Yuri’s hair back. “I'm not in the to-beat category?”
Yuri presses his forehead against Otabek’s. “Shut up. I'm being deep.” Yuri
presses his lips against his cheeks, on his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “I
know you're watching me. I like the way it feels.”
His back arches when Otabek reaches under his shirt to trace his spine. He
wants to kiss that neat little belly button, maybe even dip his tongue inside
and make Yuri squirm some more against him. “I like knowing that.” He does.
He's going to remember it, tomorrow, during the free skate competition.
Yuri tosses off his shirt and shakes out his hair. It's an invitation to touch
him, but Otabek is going to take his time, playing that Al Green song in the
soundtrack of his mind, as he pulls Yuri into his arms. Otabek inhales the
trace scent of of crisp soap in the crook of his neck. “And I'm going to watch
you, Altin.” Yuri’s hands card through his hair. “Will you skate for me, too?”
He wants to laugh, because he's always skated for Yuri. He was his muse for so
long, Otabek doesn't know any other way to skate, and now his muse is so much
more. “Yeah.” He nuzzles Yuri’s throat. He's real, and he's right here, flesh
and bone and beautiful, full of contradictions he adores because, in the end,
they make sense. What's lovey dovey shit and what's turning Yuri on get all
mixed up in a beautiful mess. “I'll skate for you.” He won't call him out,
because kissing him is so much better.
They kiss until Yuri is wiggling on his lap, until he reaches down to pull
Otabek’s sweater up just enough to make skin to skin contact. Otabek finishes
the job and yanks it off. He watches Yuri close his eyes, as if he's afraid to
look while he touches Otabek’s shoulders, his pectorals, his abs, then go back
up and start over again. “Can I touch you?” Otabek asks. He wants to touch Yuri
everywhere. He wants to hear the sounds he'll make and every expression his
face makes when he does it.
“Yeah.” Yuri’s eyes are still closed, but his lips tremble when Otabek traces a
line from his chin, down his neck, over his chest, to his belly button. Otabek
kisses his wrist and does it again, this time starting from the bottom. Yuri’s
hands press into his shoulders, now. “Keep going?” It's a whisper.
It's enough.
Otabek rubs his thumbs against his nipples. Yuri sucks in his lower lip and
frowns. But he likes it, his back arches a little as Otabek increases the
pressure. “Good?” He asks. Yuri nods. “Maybe more?” He nods again. Good. Otabek
swipes his tongue against him, then sucks. When he whimpers, Otabek gently,
carefully nips with his teeth.
“Fuck, you're making me hard.”
Otabek nudges his leg up. Yuri groans and wiggles some more. “I want to touch
you some more.”
“Quit asking.”
He sucks on the other nipple, pulling it deep into his mouth while he pushes
his leg up. “I want to watch you come,” Otabek whispers against his skin. Yuri
moans low in his throat. “Your leggings are killing me.” He snaps the elastic.
“Take them off.”
Yuri's up, kicking them and his briefs off in no time. More contradictions:
Yuri himself is a contradiction,too: all wiry muscle and baby soft skin,
punctuated with bruises, and impossibly beautiful. He is, at least, aware of
his beauty, when he lets Otabek stare. “I like it when you look at me like
that.”
“I'm going to remember how you look right now, during the free skate.”
Yuri puts his knee between Otabek’s and straddled one leg. “During mine?” He
says this against his lips.
“And mine.” Otabek kisses him, settling him on his knee, feeling Yuri’s push up
against his crotch. “And I want you to remember this.” He reaches out, and
touches him, there, loosely curling his fingers as his thumb rubs back and
forth. “Everything we make each other feel right now, we can feel on the ice.”
Yuri shivers as Otabek strokes, slowly, gently. He whimpers when Otabek tips
his chin up. “Look at me, Yura.” He does, and when he does, he shows Otabek all
his fear and wonder. “That's it, baby. Show me.”
“Beka-”
Otabek doesn't need medals to push him higher. He doesn't need applause, he
doesn't need praise. All he needs is Yura, his Yura. “God, you are so
beautiful.” His hand is unsteady and he's lost his rhythm and Yura’s pressing
against him and he's moaning, thrusting, shaking, Otabek can feel the pressure
building and it's good, it's right, and he groans when his Yura says his name
over and over, thrusts against Yura’s knee when he arches his back and when
Otabek comes it's like a bomb exploding. And his Yura - he's coming, too. Oh
fuck, Yura!
Oh, fuck.
Yuri collapses into his arms, nuzzling Otabek’s undercut as they try to catch
their breath. Otabek wonders if he can. His heart feels as if it's about to
burst out of his chest.
“You wanna hear something weird?”
Otabek smiles up at the ceiling as Yuri curls up against him and starts playing
with Otabek's hair. “Sure.”
“I like that song they were playing in the diner. That old one? It's kinda
cool.”
Otabek has to laugh at that.
End Notes
     The song from the diner is Al Green's Let's_Stay_Together.
     Come on down and say hey to me on tumblr @ blownwish-blog :D
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