Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12137283.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Otabek_Altin/Jean-Jacques_Leroy
  Character:
      Otabek_Altin, Jean-Jacques_Leroy
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, Dirty_Talk, Fingering, Anal_Sex, what_happened_in_Canada
      stayed_in_Canada, Angst, Miscommunication
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-19 Words: 2430
****** two virgins ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Nobody who wants dick like Jean is a virgin.
     (another thing about Otabek training in Canada with JJ)
Notes
     voxane
     made this request on Tumblr: Idea I think is your speed: JJBek ala
     Joy Division's Disorder
      
     All I could really do was kind of maybe match the feel and put Joy
     Division in the background. It's not on the nose. Sorry.
This Jean kid is no virgin, or at least he doesn't kiss like one. He kisses the
way all pretty boys kiss by the time they're sixteen, with his head tilted, his
tongue laps against his, and his hands are looped nice and loose around
Otabek's shoulders. When Otabek grabs his ass? This Jean kid smiles. Yeah, he's
no virgin. Hell, Otabek figured that out the second he met Jean. He might've
had a cross around his neck and a nice, Christian smile, but the way this kid’s
eyes ate him up? Otabek knew he got around.
It was just a matter of time until this started happening. Otabek could feel it
in the ride from the airport, sitting too close to Jean-Jacques - JJ - in the
backseat of a Dodge Caravan while the parents drove them back to the family
home. He leaned in close, nudged his shoulder, and kept flashing that smile.
You're gonna like Canada, Jean told him. You're gonna really like it.. Otabek
wasn't surprised when Jean told him they were ‘bunking’ together in a room
plastered with posters of skaters and hockey players - the Canadiens are number
one! - two twin beds pushed against the walls, and a bathroom. A bathroom
without a lock. Jean didn't have any problem walking in when Otabek was
showering or pissing. He didn't have any problem taking off all his clothes in
front of Otabek, either. Nothing you haven't seen, already, right?
And training? Training was all about this Jean kid rubbing Otabek's shoulders
down after weight training. It was Jean pressing his weight down on his leg
when Otabek stretched. Wrapping his feet after skating practice. Tracing the
softest circles over Otabek's temples when they were worn down after a long day
while muted Pornhub played on Otabek's MacBook. Training was all about Jean’s
warm hands on his body.
Otabek didn't mind. He liked it.
He liked the contrast between the soft slap-slap-slap of Jean jerking off under
his sheets as he stared at Otabek in the other bed, and the starch-white Sunday
morning Masses at St Philip’s, sitting with Jean and all his brothers and
sisters. Otabek liked the way he could feel Jean watching him from the window
as he snuck a quick Marlboro behind the shrubs. He liked how Jean looked over
his shoulder at him, buck naked, and smiled with a silent invitation.
Otabek wonders if he his kid can deliver on the hype. So far, so good: he's
straddling Otabek's lap and giving him something like a sloppy lap dance as Joy
Division bass throbs over Jean’s speakers. “Take off your shirt,” he tells
Jean.
He tosses his hair back when he does it, smiles down at Otabek as he rubs down
his chest. Leans in as he whispers, “Touch me.” Yeah, until today, Otabek
hasn't laid so much as a pinkie finger on this kid since he came to Canada.
He's probably hungry for a little reciprocity. Otabek doesn't mind. This Jean
kid isn't the only one with a technique.
Otabek goes in slow, and he goes in low, under the elastic of Jean’s
sweatpants, and this kid -- he's grinning back down at him. “No underwear,
huh?”
“Nope.” He wiggles his ass around and laughs when Otabek squeezes. “Oh, yeah.
More.” Oh, he can do that. “Make it hurt, just a little.” Otabek pulls his
foreskin down a little more when he does. He likes how Jean winces and nods.
“God, yeah.”
He's real pretty. The kind of pretty that works on a girl and Otabek doesn't
mind at all. He's going to find some lipstick, maybe steal some from the
Pharamprix and put it on those lips and Jean’s going to smear it all over
Otabek's face. Then his dick. “You wanna fuck?” Otabek keeps squeezing. He's
not even jerking him off. He doesn't have to. Jean keeps wiggling his ass and
doing all the work.
“Yeah. I wanna.” He doesn't use words like fuck. But he knows how to do it. He
shimmies out of his sweats and gets back on Otabek's lap. “You do it to me,
okay?” Jean opens his mouth when Otabek pushes his fingers between his lips. He
takes two, three fingers, then four and Jean doesn't even stop when he's
gagging.
Otabek uses that spit on his own dick after he makes Jean pull down his briefs.
“Waste not and all that.” Jean gets on his knees, because he knows the drill.
“Get more on there.” Otabek grabs the corners of his mouth and makes him open
up wide. “This way.” Then he pushes Jean’s head down. He doesn't have to. Jean
didn't need any pushing.
His mouth is very warm and very wet. And the kid can use his tongue; he swipes
it against Otabek's tip every time he comes up. And he keeps moaning on his
dick.
“Keep that up and I might come in your mouth. You want that? You want to
swallow my come? Get it all over your pretty face? I think you want that.” Jean
is jerking himself off, and that's as good as a yes. “You're still going to
give me that ass.” He yanks Jean’s hair, pulls him off and gives him a little
love pat on the cheek when he yelps. “Lube up.”
He's red faced and there's spit dripping off his chin, but he's still pretty.
“Sure.” Otabek smacks his ass when he leans in for a kiss, just to hear that
cute little yelp, again.
But he can kiss Otabek. Just for a second. “Lube.”
++
“He's not here.”
Otabek wasn't looking for Jean. He was just curious, which would be the only
reason Otabek would have for wandering into the family den. The place was a
study in wood paneling hell and smelled like cigars and pine. Alain Jr perched
himself on his father's chair as if he was waiting for Otabek to show up. The
kid always looked pinched off and angry, like he could spend a year punching
one of those nuns at his school.
“He went with Maman. On errands.”
Weird. Jean didn't even tell him. Hell, Jean would've insisted Otabek come
along. “What's he up to?”
“You're turning my brother into a pervert.” Junior sneered.
The garage door opened. Otabek couldn't believe it -- Jean came into the house
sporting an undercut. “Check me out!” He turned around and pointed. “You like
it, Beks?”
Otabek didn’t like it. He liked the way Jean’s hair curled around his ears,
he'd imagined threading his fingers through it while Jean sucked him off, or
grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck while he fucked him, slow and hard,
up the ass. “Sure. I like it fine Jean.”
“That's only half his name. His name is Jean-Jacques.” Junior gave him more of
his sour face. “And yousodon't like it.”
Their mother gave Junior a stern look, then left the room. She never had much
to say to Otabek. She only tolerated him because his family paid her to. But
she didn't have anything to say to Jean, either. He just stood there, like a
confused puppy. “You don't like it?”
“You're an idiot, Jean-Jacques!” Junior said it in French, but Otabek
understood that much.
++
Who taught this kid? Jean knows how to kiss, he knows how to give head, but
he's pathetic when it comes to his own asshole. He really thinks he can just
lay on his back and pour some lube over his crack. “Gimme a second.”
“Lube up your finger, idiot.” Otabek can't believe he has to tell him this.
“No. More.” He's barely pushing it in. Otabek sighs. “Like this.” He pushes
Jean’s finger two knuckles in, and the kid actually wheezes. “Pour more lube on
it while you pump in and out.”
“Sorry.” He says it like sore-y, and Otabek would call it annoying if Jean
wasn't blushing so prettily for him as he followed directions as best he could.
But he is, in his own sad way.
“God, what kind of morons have been fucking you? You can't take dick worth shit
without a lot of lube. Now two.”
He does it, even though he's whining like a bitch over it. Otabek crams his
fingers back into his mouth. “Shut up. The music’s not loud enough to drown you
out.” Jean nods. He tries to suck Otabek's fingers, but that makes him forget
to work his own fingers in and out. Otabek just shoves his fingers in and out
of his mouth, instead. “Just work on the lube. Don't try to do both.”
Jean would say yes if he could, but he's too busy.
++
Otabek took a long drag off his Marlboro, wondering what it was like to ride
that Harley dragging down the highway. They called those things crotch rockets.
He liked that. He wanted something powerful and dangerous, vibrating between
his legs, taking him straight to hell.
“You ever been with a girl?” Jean toed a rock with his boot. Shifted on the
curb and Otabek could feel his stare without looking. “I mean, sexually?”
A girl. Otabek took one last drag and flicked the butt toward the highway.
“Have you?”
Jean laughed. “A girl? No way. Even if I had time, nah.” Otabek watched him
shake his head. “I'm pure.”
“Pure? Like your religion teaches?” Maybe where girls were concerned, sure.
Probably. Definitely. This boy probably didn't even know what a pussy looked
like. But he knew all about dick. Hell, going by the way this kid was staring
at Otabek’s crotch, Otabek was positive Jean could work his way around a dick,
just fine. “A virgin, huh?”
Jean cleared his throat. “I want to give myself to the person I love. Nothing
to be ashamed of.”
Otabek caught the sickeningly sweet smile and shrugged it off. “Didn't say it
was. But it's bullshit.” He leaned back on the heel of his palms, feeling the
curb’s grit, and wondered how much longer Jean’s girl was going to take getting
down here. Maybe her car broke down. Maybe she broke down. Hell…
“You haven't been with one, either.” Jean nudged his knee against Otabek's.
“Not a girl, anyway.”
The sky was something between blue and grey as the sun set behind them. Otabek
almost smiled. “You're right.”
“There she is!” Jean jumped up and waived down the periwinkle Bug as it pulled
over.
++
Otabek's given up on Jean doing the dirty work. He's just going to have to do
it, himself, before he gets blueballed. So he's three fingers in, jamming them
up into Jean fast, aiming up so he can keep that pretty pink blush on his
cheeks. “You like that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He's whispering and he's shivering. “Just keep doing
that! Aw, shit!”
“Dirty words, Jean?” Otabek smacks his face. “What would Jesus say?”
He laughs and he shivers some more and he tries so hard not to moan. If he
tries to muffle it with a pillow again, Otabek's going to cram his briefs in
his mouth. He likes looking at Jean's pretty face when he's doing this.
“Please please do it to me now? I wanna come while you do it to me, please?”
Otabek stops. He leans over and kisses him, slow and hard, just like he's going
to fuck him. And Jean kisses him right back. They nod when Otabek breaks it
off. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. He dribbles the stuff all over his hands
and works it all over his dick. “You ready?”
Jean holds his knees back and nods.
“God, your asshole is all red and sore looking.”
“Gonna be even more sore when this is over.”
Otabek traces a line from Jean's knee to his balls. “That's funny.”
Jean smirks. “Come on, Altin. Don't get soft on me now.”
Otabek lines himself up, and he pushes in, and - oh, god! Jean's eyes are so
wide. So fucking wide. And he's so tight. So tight, like a vice. And then he
does this funny little laugh when Otabek manages to get all the way in, and
reaches for him. Pulls him down, drapes Otabek over his body and wraps himself
around him. Jean whispers in his ear. “This is your first time too, isn't it?”
Otabek feels something break as Jean’s hand moves up and down the back of his
head, over his undercut. It makes Otabek shiver and it makes him shake and he
doesn't know what to say. But Jean does. “I knew it.”
Then he kisses Otabek. Then he moves underneath him, lifting his ass up and
down until Otabek starts moving with him. And it's hard, so hard not to come
because he's so tight. It's hard to pull away from his mouth, because he needs
to think of something to say, to deny it, because Jean won't believe him. Then
again, he doesn't believe Jean. There's no way this kid hasn't been with other
guys. He is moving his ass like a fucking whore. Otabek likes that. He likes
that, a lot.
++
Otabek liked Jean, fine. He was a pain in the ass, he talked way too much and
bragged more than he should've. And he lied. He lied about knowing how to
drink. One two beers had him passed out on the floor. He exaggerated about his
standing in juniors - Jean’s scores weren't all that good. He lied about
stealing one of his Marlboros, even though he stank of smoke and it had Jean
puking in the toilet.
And he lied about being a virgin. No virgin took to dick like Jean did. After
Otabek made him come, that first time, he got on his knees, opened his mouth
and swallowed every drop of Otabek's load. After that, he was sucking and
fucking like a bitch in heat, right up to the day Otabek took a plane back to
Almaty. And he kept telling Otabek more lies, saying Otabek was his first. No,
that wasn't it.
“You're my only.” Jean whispered as they hugged at the airport. “You can't go.”
Jean's girl was waiting with his family. Smiling, because she wasn't stupid,
and she knew what this meant. “You know how it is.” Otabek liked that Jean kid.
He liked him a lot, even though he was a liar. “I gotta go.”
He made the mistake of looking right in Jean's eyes. They weren't blue. They
weren't grey. They were clear. So, so clear. Otabek stepped back. Turned
around, and boarded the plane.
Let her have him.
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