Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11979198.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky, Victor_Nikiforov_&_Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Yuri_Plisetsky, Otabek_Altin, Victor_Nikiforov
  Additional Tags:
      Fondling, erotic_sexual_denial, otayuri_-_Freeform, Oral_Sex,
      Masturbation, Breathplay, dick_choking
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-02 Words: 2647
****** see me ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Why won't Otabek let Yuri touch him back?
He wanted too much. He always wanted too much. He backed Yuri up against the
wall when the door closed. He pushed his hands away. He pulled his clothes off
like nothing, like petals from a flower, but he didn't fuck him. No, it was not
that simple. He wasn't rough. He was much worse. Otabek owned Yuri, with the
most gentle touches. One finger went down the center of his chest, like a
trickle of sweat, and Yuri was gasping for air.
“Do it to me this time.”
Otabek shook his head.
“Please?” Otabek had been doing this for a year. A year of looks in a crowded
room, hot enough to peel the paint off the walls. A year of a steady voice
instructing him over Skype. Look right in the camera. Go slower. Much slower. A
year of light touches and harsh breathing against his skin as Otabek hovered
over him, stared into his soul and watched Yuri come. “Please, just let me
touch you this time?”
Two fingers slid up his chest. “No.” It's like Otabek wanted to pull every
feeling Yuri's ever had out of him, inspect them all and put them back in
places only he can find.
Yuri slammed his head against the wall. “I want to make you come.”
“You do.” Otabek whispered against his cheek. His breath was unsteady. His
fingers were unsteady. His eyes never close as he watched Yuri, as he reached
down, as Yuri whimpered. “And when I come, I come for you.”
“You always say that I never see. Let me seeeee...”
Otabek nuzzled his hair. “No.”
Yuri shivered. He needed him to pull harder. To take off all his clothes and
press himself up against Yuri. To kiss Yuri. To let Yuri put his arms around
him and make this real.
++
“It's okay,” Otabek says. “Tell him. I'm your boyfriend.” The hand on the small
of Yuri's back already told them, anyway. So does the mouth whispering in
Yuri's ear. Otabek smiles at Viktor and Yuri nods.
“Otabek and me, we’re together.”
Viktor is not stupid. He might beam and he might clap and, yes, he does jump -
one time - on the balls of his heels, but he's watching them. He's gauging the
burn on Yuri's cheeks. He's noting how Otabek puts his arm over his shoulders.
He sees Yuri gasp and freeze and fisher with his hands because he doesn't know
what to do with them. “Really?”
Otabek takes Yuri's hand. Rubs the knuckles. “It's like a dream come true.” His
voice is so deep when he says it and Yuri knows he means it. “My wildest
dreams.”
“Ah.” Viktor doesn't stop smiling. “That's lovely.”
Otabek's arm squeezes slightly. His thumb runs over Yuri's fingers, lightly. He
did the same thing with his thumb, just half an hour ago. Not on his hand. Yuri
shivers, remembering how that simple slide across the head of his dick made him
come.
Viktor stops smiling. “Really lovely.”
++
Otabek put him on the bed, carefully propped his head on the pillows, placed
his hands on the headboard and spread his legs. He opened the closet, hung his
jacket, then took the sleeve of Yuri's team track suit and put it to his nose.
“I'm right here.”
He didn't move. “You are everywhere.” He was inhaling, deeply. “I see you,
everywhere. Feel you, everywhere.”
Yuri groaned. “Please, just - I need you.”
He took his time coming back to him. Each step felt like forever. Otabek sighed
when he finally reached the edge of the bed. His eyes went places Yuri wished
his hands would go. “Say it, again.”
“I need you.” Yuri’s dick was so hard. “Please, please, Beka? Please take off
your clothes and lay down with me?”
He reached down. He cupped his balls, gently. Shushed him, as one knee came
down on the mattress, with one finger to Yuri's lips. “No.” Then he traced one
finger over his foreskin. Just one.
“Why?” Why hadn't he ever taken off his clothes? Even once? Why wouldn't he
kiss him? Why wouldn't he ever even let Yuri watch him come? “You won't give me
anything. Not even hold me.”
Otabek pulled his foreskin up and down. Barely moved his hand as Yuri moaned.
Barely moved a muscle as Yuri arched his back and fucked into his hand. He just
watched him. Watched and said: “Come, Yura.”
He sobbed. And he cursed. And he came, all over himself. Otabek rubbed it into
his bare belly, exhaling slowly as Yuri caught his breath. "But what about
you?"
Otabek went to the restroom as if Yuri hadn't said a word.
++
The first time was at Barcelona, after the Exhibition. After Yuri was rushed
back to his hotel room by a scandalized Lilia. After he was instructed to scrub
off the glitter and eyeliner, and go to sleep like a good little boy. But he
wasn't good, and he wasn't a little boy.
He expected the knock on his door. He expected black leather and the soft thud
of motorcycle boots on the carpet. He expected calloused hands under the hotel
terry cloth robe. “Otabek.” He breathed the name like a prayer. A validation.
Vindication. “I want you, Otabek.”
They were facing the bathroom mirror. Otabek stood behind him. Combed his wet
hair back. Closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent. Then watched as he
tugged the knot at Yuri's waist. As it gave. As Yuri stood there, trembling,
naked, hard, ready. “This is the Yuri Plisetsky I want to see.”
“Then see me.” Yuri gasped when he touched him. “See me.” It was the lightest
touch. “See me.”
See me.
++
The water is running and he'd bet every gold medal he ever won that Otabek is
jerking off in there. “It's not fair.” He doesn't say it loud enough and maybe
he should. “Why won't you let me touch it?” There. That was louder.
It still doesn't make any difference. Soon Otabek will be out of the bathroom,
calling room service and leaving before they come by with the turkey sandwich
Yuri always gets afterward. Yuri stared at the smooth, flat ceiling. He's sick
of turkey. Sick of this.
“What kind of loser am I?” He grits his teeth, because he is no loser. He is
the fucking Ice Tiger of Russia. He takes what he wants, and he wants what's
behind that door. What's been his the moment he saw that glorious bastard on
that motorcycle, like the angel of death.
So he gets up. He marches to the door. It might be locked. It might be
pointless. But Yuri will be damned if he doesn't even try. So he turns the knob
-
And, incredibly, the door opens.
“Yuri?”
++
“Hot chocolate?”
“No.”
“Sweet tea?”
”Hell, no.” Especially if it was artificial sweetener. And it's always
artificial, when Viktor was buying. “I've got a coffee already. What the fuck
do you want, old man?”
What was the point of going to a dingy cafe if people can figure out where you
were? Yuri didnt bother asking because any answer Viktor gave him would be some
sad attempt to give him wisdom. “Let’s talk about Otabek.”
“Save me the safe sex speech.”
“Believe me,” he smiled as he sat, “it's not going to be that.” He flipped his
hair. Yuri could see light shining on his scalp, through the roots. God, he was
so old. So pathetic. He should have just shaved the sad shit off instead of
just cutting it short.
“Go away.”
“When Yuuri first came to me, he said he wanted to know me. The real me. Not a
poster.”
Yuri sat back. “Let’s speed this up so I don't get sick. That's great Viktor. I
feel enlightened. I'm going to go call my boyfriend and tell him everything you
said and we are going to live happily ever after, making the entire planet
puke, with our public displays of affection, just like you two.” he sneered.
“Are we done, now?”
Viktor leaned forward. “Are you happy?”
“I'm not old. I’m not washed up. I'm not bald. I'm not fucking a stuffed pig.
I'm ecstatic.”
He laughed. “Yuri, you look up to me. And that's nice. I appreciate being the
one you measure yourself against. I really do.” He nodded when the waitress
brought a steaming cup. Ugh! Green tea? Seriously? “But this isn't about me.”
“Wow. You actually said the words.” Yuri was done with his black coffee. He was
done with this place. He was never coming back here.
“Tell me, Yura, does he make you happy? This Otabek Altin?”
“Why would I bother if he didn't?”
Viktor turned the cup in his hands. Slowly. Stared down at it with an odd
smile. The kind he kept when he was about to give away something he wanted to
keep. “You… you're not me. You break. Sometimes I envy that. Breaking means
something comes out.”
“You kiss the pig with that mouth?” Yuri narrowed his eyes. “Buy my hot
chocolate. I want lots of marshmallows and sugar.”
“Hell, no.”
++
He's in the shower. He's behind the steamed door. If he opens it, Yuri will see
him, naked and hard and -
“What are you doing?”
“Are you touching yourself?” He puts his hand on the warm glass. One push and
he can see. Just one little push.
Otabek puts his hand on the glass. If it was not there, their hands would
touch. “Please leave.” It is the deepest, softest sound.
“It's my turn to say no.” He presses his head against the glass. “Keep touching
yourself.”
“Yuri, I - “
He slams his hand against the glass. “One year, Otabek. One year of you driving
me out of my mind. Of you turning me inside out while all you do is watch. Now
you're going to touch yourself and you're going to do it for me.” He sobs. “For
me. I want it. You understand me? I want you.”
There is a moan. Then there is the unmistakable sound of slapping skin and Yuri
nearly jumps when Otabek shouts his name. Come splatters all over the glass.
++
Yuri was in love. He was so cool, so badass and he was his. He said he was. “I
will miss you, Yuri.”
“Fuck of a time to tell me.” Yuri rubbed his thumbs against the lapels of his
leather jacket. He wanted to kiss him. Right now. “Right before I get in an
airplane. What the hell, Altin. This is like a shitty romance novel.”
Otabek touched his cheek with his knuckle. “Skype me.” Yuri nodded. “I want to
talk to you every day.”
“You will. And not just talk.”
Otabek cupped his cheek. Staring at Yuri's lips. Touching them with his thumb.
Yuri closed his eyes and imagined the taste of his kiss. “Take care, Yuri
Plisetsky.”
Yuri never felt so reluctant to walk away. Never looked over his shoulder so
many times. Never before.
I will miss you.
++
Yuri watches the water wash it all away. Otabek’s hand is gone and he's gasping
for air under the steam. “I came.”
“Thanks?” Yuri huffs a little laugh. “Is that it?”
“That's it.” He cuts off the water. “Can you hand me a towel?”
Its white. It's soft and thick. Yuri rubs it against his cheek. “Open the door
and I'll dry you off.”
It opens a crack and his hand comes out. “Just give it to me.”
“What's the deal? I've seen you naked in the locker room.” He tugs the door
open. I'm coming in and I'm drying you off.” And touching you. “Now.”
But he doesn't have to. Steam rolls out as the door opens. And there he is, wet
and beautiful, looking Yuri dead in the eye, as his lip - for a second it
trembles. Just for a second.
Yuri rubs the towel against his face. His neck. Shoulders and arms. He never
breaks eye contact as he keeps going, over his chest, towel between Yuri's hand
and Otabek's skin. “I could touch you.”
Otabek swallows, hard.
“I could get on my knees and suck your dick.” He walks around him. Rubs down
his back. Leans in close and whispers. “Make you hard.” The towel goes lower.
Otabek's ass is so tight. Yuri loves that ass. Wants to take a bite out of it.
But not now. He drops the towel. He reaches around - never touching - and lets
his hand hover there. Right there. “I could make you come in my mouth. Swallow
every drop. And I would.”
Otabek doesn't say a word. He just nods.
“You fantasize about me? About me doing that for you? Don't answer.” Yuri
traces one finger down Otabek's back, chasing the water drops. “Let me
fantasize that you do.”
Otabek grabs his hand.
Time stands still while Otabek slowly turns. Galaxies collide when he pulls
Yuri foward. When skin hits skin. When Yuri looks up into his eyes and
breathes.
Finally.
Yuri takes Otabek's face in his hands. Their lips are so close. So close Yuri
has to smile because he can taste Otabek's breath. Its minty. “I meant it when
I said I was going to suck you off.”
“Yura - “
“Shhh…” Yuri slides down slowly. Oh, god. This is the body he's wanted for so
long. He licks the moist skin, moans as Otabek moans while he suckles one hard
brown nipple. While he slips down further, while his nails scrape him, hard.
Mark Otabek as his. Yuri wants him to feel it. Feel him, as he bites the side
of his hip. “I'm no fantasy, Otabek. Look at me.”
He's on his knees.
“See me.” He cups his balls. He licks his lips He stares up at those dark eyes.
Smiles at the trembling lips. “See me.”
Otabek is half hard and he's already huge. Probably too big for Yuri's first
blow job, but he's not going to make excuses. He's wanted this for way too
long, needed to touch, to taste, and now he knows - to own, because he wants
too much, too. He never stops staring up at Otabek as he sucks. No, he's
probably not all that good. He's probably scraping with his teeth a little too
much and he can't cram it all in. His jaw hurts already and Otabek's foreskin
keeps moving up and down, making it impossible to really get good suction on
the head. But this is real, Yuri is real, and Otabek is going to have to take
it all.
“I see you.” Otabek's hand combs through his hair. His hand is gentle. His
voice is rough. And his dick is getting hard. Very hard. “I see you.”
Yuri wants to take him all. His jaw is aching and his knees hurt. And fuck it.
He doesn't care. He wants Otabek's dick down his throat, so he grabs his ass
and squeezes. And he tries. And he gags. He doesn't care. And he tries again.
Gags as the head hits the back of his throat. He doesn't care. Doesn't care if
it makes his eyes water. If it's hard to breath. Otabek is his.
He can see it in his eyes when Otabek winds Yuri's hair around his hand and
thrusts.
Yuri's gagging. His dick is so far down his throat that his nose is pressed up
against Otabek's pubic hair. He can't move. He can't breath, he can't think.
And all he can do is feel. Feel Otabek. Trembling, naked Otabek.
“Yura!” He pulls back. Far back enough to let him breath. Yuri coughs and gasps
and cries. “Oh god - Yura!” He slams his dick back down his throat.
He can't breath but he can see the darkness creeping around the edges. It
reminds him of Otabek's eyes. Or maybe those are his eyes.
“I see you, Yura.”
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