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a pochapucker's fantasy

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Viktor isn’t used to waking alone. At least, not since Yuuri Katsuki danced (well, dry-humped) into his life. Asking him to move in with him in Saint Petersburg had been a natural extension of that — of not wanting to spend his days alone anymore.

He knows, on a surface level he’s not alone, per se — he’s friendly with his rinkmates, he’s a regular pain in Yakov’s ass as per usual, he’s the irritating older mentor figure for Yurio — but Yuuri is the only one who gets to see the real him. The only one who gets to know what Viktor looks like in the mornings before he shaves and grooms, who gets to see him lounge around the flat without pants on, who gets to see him wrecked and undone in the throes of pleasure.

So of course when Yuuri is missing with only his clothes still lying on the bed as an indicator that he had ever been there in the first place, Viktor gets somewhat concerned.

Very concerned, actually.

“Yuuri?” he calls out, clambering out of bed and slowly making his way through the apartment, poking his head into all the rooms. Yuuri doesn’t seem to be in any of them, though Makkachin is scratching at the closed door into the bathroom with a piteous whine. With suspicion curling in his gut, Viktor reaches out and opens the door, and Makkachin slips past him into the bathroom, quickly followed by an unholy shriek.

Found him, Viktor thinks, before poking his head in and blinking curiously at the sight of Makkachin licking at something small and fuzzy on the ground.

“Down, Makka,” he chastises, and his poodle backs off with another whine to expose a small ball of white fur with a little tufted white tail topped in black.

Viktor reaches out, plucks the fluff up by what seems to be a scruff, and… well.

“That,” declares the impossibly cute baby face of what is undeniably the love of his life, “is the last time we’re eating at that so-called ‘Japanese restaurant’.”


Viktor is confused.

Extremely, extremely confused.

“So… when exactly did this happen?” he asks.

The little fuzzball half-dog creature that had previously been his fiance shrugs, playing with the hem of the little doll-sized sweatshirt that Viktor had scrounged up for him. It’s light blue and even comes with a little Y printed on the front, as well as a corresponding dog-eared hat. He looks unnecessarily adorable, especially since his new stubby little legs poke out when he sits.

Viktor sighs. “And you think this has to do with the katsudon from the shady Japanese restaurant we ate at?”

“Yeah,” says Yuuri. “Should’ve known they were up to no good. There weren’t that many people in there.”

“The best food is found in hole-in-the-wall restaurants,” Viktor points out.

“The best food made by the mob, maybe.” And Viktor knows he shouldn’t laugh at how high-pitched Yuuri’s voice is right now, or at the way his nose scrunches when he makes a face, but it’s ridiculously hard to resist. The love of his life is currently a tiny dog-satyr because of shady katsudon (at least, that seems to be Yuuri’s current theory), and really, there are worse things he could have become.

“You couldn’t have just had food poisoning like a regular human being?” Viktor jokes, and Yuuri stomps his little paw against the sink counter, turning to glare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Viktor can feel the irritation rolling off him, and sighs, plucking Yuuri off the bathroom counter and settling him on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure something out,” he tells Yuuri, smiling. “It’ll be all right.”


They can’t go to the rink, of course. At his current size, Yuuri could ride in one of his skates instead of wearing them. Viktor takes a photo of him sitting in it and promises he won’t upload it.

“Don’t tell Phichit, either,” Yuuri says. “I’m just not going to leave the flat at all.”

“You could ride on my shoulder when we go out,” Viktor offers.

“You should just stay inside with me until all of this blows over,” retorts Yuuri.

Viktor snorts. “I’m sorry, but Makkachin needs to be walked once in a while,” he points out, and Yuuri makes a huffing noise that sounds like a kitten sighing. Viktor stifles his laughter. And his cooing.

Yuuri still takes him up on his offer of using his shoulder, though he does it to get around the apartment. Viktor would joke about how Yuuri’s just using this as an excuse to get Viktor to carry him around, if it weren’t for the fact that his little fiance looks so damned cute.

Yakov is, of course, displeased to hear that they won’t be at practice, though he makes some concerned-sounding mutterings about Yuuri’s ‘nasty case of food poisoning’. Viktor tries to get out of practice himself, but Yakov puts his foot down on that, citing that the last thing anyone trying to recover from a sickness needs is their overexcitable five-time World Champion fiance dangling over their sickbed in an attempt to play nurse.

Yuuri had made a disappointed expression at the news, which cheers Viktor up. A little.

So they spend the rest of the day getting used to having Yuuri at roughly the size of a large chihuahua. Viktor fashions him towers of books to get onto couches and chairs and the bed, though some of his efforts go wasted when Makkachin knocks them over in his eagerness to play with the new strange half-dog. Yuuri also has to get used to being smaller than the old poodle, though this doesn’t take too long considering his joy at being able to ride him like a pony, complete with excited yelps and frantic clinging onto Makkachin’s collar as the poodle bolts through the apartment at top speed.

Viktor also has to make a smaller portion for Yuuri at dinner, as well as find him small enough utensils to use. The teaspoon is a little long about the handle, but Yuuri manages to make it work. Viktor makes a mental note to see if he can find any large doll cutlery in one of the shops tomorrow.

After dinner, they all sprawl out on the couch to watch some Russian soaps, though Makkachin quickly dozes off and Yuuri is quick to follow, burrowing into the poodle’s fur with a little contented snore. Hesitantly, Viktor reaches out to stroke along Yuuri’s fur, revelling in its dream-like softness beneath his fingertips.

He’s like a little cloud like this, flushed in his sleep, and something in Viktor’s stomach tugs with curiosity as his fingers skim along Yuuri’s flank. Yuuri’s tail is so small, barely covering his fuzzy bum and the little pucker of pink flesh that Viktor had glimpsed earlier when Yuuri had sprawled out across Makkachin’s back.

His fingers retract almost the moment he thinks about it, and he sits on his hands for the rest of the night.


Viktor tosses and turns all night, plagued with the thoughts that had bolted across his mind at the sight of Yuuri’s new fluffy butt sprawled out before him.

No, there’s no way Yuuri would think about something like that at this time. Viktor’s just being disgusting, being perverse with his attraction to his fiance. It’s not like he’d fuck anything that looked like Yuuri, of course — there surely had to be limits.

And yet a part of him wants to see what they could do while Yuuri’s like this. Small and cute, open and waiting to be filled. How many fingers could he take like this? Maybe even just one finger would be more than enough — and his cock itself would be too much.

Almost as if his dick had a mind of its own, Viktor feels a sudden tightness in his pants.

Guiltily, he looks to the side, at where Yuuri is peacefully slumbering on his back, his little fuzzy legs sprawled out and a puddle of drool running out the side of his mouth. Viktor imagines those big brown eyes alight with arousal, imagines the way the little ears of that hat would sway, imagines the softness of Yuuri’s fur beneath his hands as he plunges his cock into him.

He takes himself in hand, and jerks off with almost guilty quickness. But as he goes to clean the come off his hands, he doesn’t notice a little fuzzy figure cracking open an eye to watch him go.


The next morning, Yuuri flushes almost every time Viktor looks over at him, almost as if he knows about what Viktor had done the night before and isn’t quite sure how to look him in the eyes again.

“You’re sure you can handle spending the day in the flat with Makkachin?” Viktor asks. Yuuri considers it and flushes brighter. At this rate, his fur will be tinted pink as well — though Viktor doesn’t want to think about Yuuri’s cute little body flushing any more than necessary.

“Makka and I can look after ourselves,” replies Yuuri.

“If you get hungry, I could leave out some food for you.”

Yuuri nods. “Just leave it somewhere I can reach,” he says, before hopping off his book tower and crossing over to where Viktor is, pressing a quick soft kiss to his cheek. “Take care of yourself today.”

Viktor’s heart skips a beat, and he picks Yuuri up to press a kiss to his cheek as well. The little dog-boy’s face turns cherry red, and he bites at his paw a little as Viktor sets him back down on his book tower.

Practice is torture after that. Viktor’s thoughts keep straying, despite Yakov’s best efforts to redirect his attention, and it’s almost a relief when the old coach kicks Viktor out with the express orders to ‘take his lovelorn panic back to his sick fiance and stop fretting”. Viktor almost feels guilty for that, but his impatience for Yuuri is a more powerful motivator (it always is; it had brought them together in the first place) and so he finds himself unlocking the door of his flat a couple hours ahead of schedule.

The first thing he notices is that the door to the fridge is ajar. Silently, Viktor closes the apartment door, crossing to the kitchen to close the fridge. Yuuri must be a little stronger in this form than they both gave him credit for, which is good — he won’t be completely helpless while Viktor’s gone.

He’s just setting down his bag and petting a sleeping Makkachin currently sprawled across the couch when he hears it. A wet-sounding, undeniably lewd moan from the bedroom. The hairs at the back of his neck prickle slightly; slowly he begins to shuffle down the hallway towards the room. Another moan greets his ears as he reaches the door and opens it, and maybe he should call the super and ask her to come and fix his heater? Because surely there’s no other explanation for the fire that’s sparked under his skin at the sight of his little fiance fucking himself open on a cucumber on their bed.

Yuuri is bracing himself against the headboard, his breath coming in ragged pants as the cucumber slides in and out of his little body. His entire face is flushed; his hat lies askew on his tousled hair and the hem of his hoodie is doing precious little to muffle his moans. As Viktor watches, he becomes distinctly aware of the tightness in his pants once more.

He’s in the room before he can stop himself, the door closing behind him with a click that startles Yuuri into looking over his shoulder. Wide-eyed, the little dog-boy stumbles a bit, falling back onto the bed with the cucumber still half-inside him. Viktor swallows at the sight.

“I —” Yuuri cuts off, chocolate-brown eyes wide in surprise. His mouth works uselessly for a moment, before he stammers out a quick, “You’re back early.”

“Surprise?” Viktor manages weakly, his gaze still riveted to the vegetable now slowly sliding out of Yuuri, the condom rolled onto it slick with lube.

Yuuri casts a glance down, and flushes even harder. “I, uh, I missed you,” he offers.

“I’m amazed that you could… doesn’t that hurt? In your current form?”

Yuuri bites his paw. The sight is unfairly adorable, especially when coupled with the flush in his cheeks and the debauched mess on the lower half of his body. “Actually… no?” he mumbles into his paw. “I can take it.”

“Oh,” says Viktor, and he’s unbuckling his trousers and freeing his cock from his pants moments after. “I missed you, too,” he admits, as Yuuri scrambles onto his knees, eyes darkening at the sight of him. Viktor knows Yuuri in human form had always loved to worship his cock, but in this form his appreciation seems to be almost amplified. A little spot of drool forms in the corner of Yuuri’s mouth as Viktor shoves his trousers and pants down and crosses over to the bed.

“I don’t know if I can put all of that in my mouth like I used to,” Yuuri admits as he shuffles closer, one paw reaching out to wrap around the shaft, and Viktor moans into the touch immediately.

“You can do whatever you like,” he bites out around another moan, and has to think about Yakov ranting about the ISU’s changes to the scoring system in order to stop himself from coming at the sight of his little fiance’s mouth engulfing the tip of his cock.

While Yuuri’s mouth is only big enough to fit the tip of Viktor’s cock, he makes up for the limitations by pressing his body around him. Viktor gasps as he feels Yuuri’s tongue against his slit, the pads of Yuuri’s paws running along his shaft. His fingers curl in Yuuri’s hair, against the floppy ears of the hat that’s still somehow miraculously on Yuuri’s head.

When he’s close — and that comes alarmingly fast — Viktor quickly pulls Yuuri’s head back from his cock, lifting him up to kiss him long and deep. He can taste his precome in Yuuri’s mouth, and it makes him all the more heated for more. For seeing if Yuuri can in fact take his cock in this little body.

Yuuri’s fur is slick and matted with the lube from the pump bottle on the nightstand. Viktor only takes a little more, slicking one finger up as he presses Yuuri back against the pillows, teasing it into his already stretched hole. Yuuri moans into his paw, his walls clenching around Viktor’s finger, and for a brief moment Viktor fears that any more will hurt him.

Then he looks to the side at the cucumber, and kisses away his apprehension against Yuuri’s tiny lips.

“I’m going to put it in,” he says. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“Pocha,” whines Yuuri, before flushing bright red. Viktor stifles a snort against Yuuri’s fuzzy stomach.

What?” he asks.

“I meant please,” Yuuri grumbles, glaring up at him, and Viktor can’t help but laugh. He trails a finger down Yuuri’s stomach to the apex between his legs, where his little pink cock is just poking out from its fuzzy white sheath. Yuuri’s glare slides off him like butter as soon as Viktor touches it; he arches wantonly into Viktor’s finger with a desperate moan.

That’s all the encouragement Viktor needs to slick up his cock and push into Yuuri, sinking into soft, slick heat. Yuuri’s eyes widen; briefly his face contorts in pain at the sudden intrusion, but it eases into pleasure as Viktor begins to move.

It’s as good as his dream last night — better, even, because now he knows how soft and pliant Yuuri’s body is under his hand. Yuuri arches and writhes against Viktor’s touch, lewd wet noises burbling out of his throat as Viktor pounds into him. He can almost see the way his cock bulges from inside Yuuri’s little body; surely it must be too much? Yet Yuuri only moans louder the deeper Viktor drives into him, and even gasps as Viktor hoists him up, sliding almost all the way out before plunging back in again.

“Viktor, harder —” Yuuri’s entire body is flushed with want as Viktor bounces him along his length, his walls fluttering wet and warm around Viktor’s cock. “More, please, pocha —”

And from that point the English language seems to fail him and he falls into babbles of ‘pocha’, eyes rolling back as Viktor’s hips snap forward faster and harder. With a gasp, Viktor comes, filling Yuuri up before slowly pulling out.

Yuuri’s stomach seems a little rounder with Viktor’s come inside him; when he shifts, Viktor can see his gaping pink hole dribbling with hot white come.

He hadn’t ever seen that on human Yuuri before, and the sight seems to spark a direct line back to his already-spent cock, which twitches a little in interest. For a brief moment Yuuri can only pant heavily in response, before crawling onto his stomach to present his abused little hole.

It’s nothing short of a miracle that Viktor isn’t hard immediately at the sight of that.


After cleaning the mess from their late afternoon excursion, Viktor makes dinner for the two of them and takes Makkachin out right after.

He comes back to see Yuuri sprawled out in a corner of the couch, pawing his way through a book from the top of the nearest book pile. Makkachin barks, leaping up onto the couch to distract Yuuri with sloppy kisses, while Viktor hangs back to take off his coat and hang up Makkachin’s lead with a laugh.

Yuuri’s laugh is as cute as ever, though in this form it’s a little more high-pitched. Viktor has the sudden urge to try and drown his thirst with a fire hose; instead he heads into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

That’s when he has an idea.

“Yuuri, do you want to eat some ice cream?” he asks. Yuuri’s head pokes up over the arm of the couch as he nods his assent, so Viktor scoops them a bowl of vanilla with some whipped cream and sliced strawberries.

“Think chocolate’s poisonous for me in this form?” Yuuri wonders as he pops a slice of strawberry into his mouth.

“I’d rather not risk it,” replies Viktor. Yuuri hums in agreement, before bending over to lick at the whipped cream topping. Viktor swallows at the sight, crossing his legs as he watches Yuuri’s face scrunch up to try and get a stray smudge of cream off his nose.

“Let me help,” he offers after a moment, before leaning in and kissing the cream off Yuuri’s nose. The little dog-boy giggles at the ticklish sensation, before his expression grows cutely devious, and he reaches one paw into the whipped cream and presents it to Viktor’s lips.

Viktor takes his paw into his mouth, licking and sucking against the pads. Yuuri’s eyes flutter closed; his face flushes and he shifts on his little paws. Retracting the one in his mouth after Viktor has cleaned it, Yuuri contemplates it for a moment before grabbing another dollop and smearing it across his fuzzy white tummy.

Viktor quickly laps that up, too, his tongue tickling across the soft white fur. His chin bumps against Yuuri’s sheath and balls as he does, and Yuuri squeaks a surprised “Pocha!” before clapping his paws to his face. Chuckling, Viktor nudges his face upwards a little, pressing soft kisses to the soft skin below the thick white fur.

“Aren’t you hot in the flat during the day?” he wonders.

Yuuri shakes his head, because it seems like language is slipping away from him again. Viktor responds by blowing a raspberry against Yuuri’s stomach, which earns him a little delighted shriek. Yuuri retaliates, then, by smearing more cream along his abdomen, all the way to his little shaft.

Viktor swallows at the implication, before leaning down to lick off the cream. His tongue brushes over the sheath, and Yuuri shivers at the sensation. For one burning moment Viktor looks into Yuuri’s eyes, want coursing through him again at the the thought of licking Yuuri everywhere, of exploring his fuzzy little body with his tongue.

He’d have thrown caution to the wind and done it on this very table, had Makkachin not insinuated himself curiously between Viktor’s legs at that moment, panting as he demands attention as well. Yuuri flushes, popping another strawberry into his mouth and chewing furiously, and Viktor pets his poodle with a thwarted sigh.

They finish the ice cream quickly after that, scrambling to get everything washed up and set aside before retiring to the bedroom for better privacy. Once the door is closed, Viktor carries Yuuri over to the bed, setting him down before shucking off his clothes and joining him.

“Pocha,” breathes Yuuri needily as Viktor begins pressing kisses all over his face and down his body. His cries become thicker and heavier with want the lower Viktor’s mouth goes, until he’s enveloped Yuuri’s little sheath in his mouth and is coaxing his little pink cock from it.

Even the lightest pressure seem to bring extreme pleasure through Yuuri’s body, seems to open him up further to Viktor’s other touches. When he presses Yuuri harder against the pillow, his fiance’s little stubbly legs fall open and his tail sweeps to the side to expose his pucker. Almost instinctively, Viktor’s tongue darts down to lave over the sensitive flesh, earning him a soft cry and a tug at his hair.

He looks up, taking in Yuuri’s flushed cheeks, his hat askew on his head, his little engorged cock so pink and slick from Viktor’s mouth. And then he dips his head down and engulfs both Yuuri’s cock and asshole with his mouth.

Yuuri cries out, his paws reaching down to tug at Viktor’s hair as Viktor licks along his hole to his cock and balls. He thrashes against the pillows, bucking needily up into Viktor’s mouth while a string of wanton moans fly from his throat. Viktor’s own cock twitches at the sounds; he reaches down then and takes himself in hand, stroking himself to full hardness.

When he licks into Yuuri’s hole, the little dog-boy gives a delectable whine and arches up, his shaft bumping against Viktor’s nose as he comes all over Viktor’s face. Viktor gives a couple more teasing kitten licks against Yuuri’s hole, and then wipes Yuuri’s come off his face before straightening up and presenting his own cock.

“What am I going to do with this?” he wonders; in response Yuuri turns around and moves his tail aside again, his paws spreading his spit-slick hole open for Viktor.

Yuuri’s still a little loose from the afternoon when Viktor presses his own finger into him, so it doesn’t take long before Yuuri’s begging him in little pants and whines to put it in already.

“So impatient, my dear,” murmurs Viktor, bending down to nuzzle against Yuuri’s ear as he lines his dick with his twitching little hole and sinks back in.

For a moment he’s just content to rest his cock in Yuuri’s warmth, staying still to let his little fiance adjust to being filled again, but Yuuri quickly begins bucking his hips and making impatient huffs of “pocha” to try and get Viktor to move. In response, Viktor reaches down to grip Yuuri’s hips, keeping his squirming down as he slowly raises himself onto his knees.

“O — oh,” Yuuri breathes, as the bed falls away and all that supports him are Viktor’s hands on him and his cock thick and deep inside him.

“What do you think would happen if I let my hands go?” wonders Viktor.

“Pocha,” squeaks Yuuri in response. Viktor loosens his hands, to a small frantic cry which has him scrambling to curl one arm under Yuuri, supporting him even as he dangles on Viktor’s cock.

Finally, he begins to move Yuuri’s body along his cock, bracing himself against the headboard as he does so. Yuuri’s lewd, soft moans fill the air; Viktor can’t help but add his own when he finally seats himself fully inside the little dog-boy.

“I — I want to see you, Viktor,” pants Yuuri, so Viktor obliges, pulling him off and spinning him around before thrusting back in. A string of drool rolls out of Yuuri’s mouth as Viktor continues to move him along his shaft; his own little pink cock is flushed and hard again, peeking proudly out of its sheath to rest against his fur. When Viktor runs a finger along the length, Yuuri cries aloud and writhes against Viktor’s supporting hand, almost causing Viktor to drop him.

“Come on, be a good boy,” coaxes Viktor, stilling his hand. Yuuri whines in response, gnawing at one of his paws as he looks imploringly up at Viktor.

“Please move,” he whimpers, so Viktor begins to slowly pull out. “No, no — deeper!”

“Who’d have known you’d be such a needy little boy?” wonders Viktor, bending down to kiss Yuuri’s nose. “Do you like big cocks, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s face flushes bright red and he claps his paws to his face. “Pocha,” he whines, and Viktor laughs at that, licking a stripe along Yuuri’s chubby little cheek.

“I’m going to miss this a little when you change back,” he admits. “I’ll love having human you back, of course, but this is pretty special, you know.”

And as if to emphasise just how special, he reaches down and slides his thumb and forefinger along the shaft of Yuuri’s cock, and Yuuri immediately comes, panting and flushed as he spills all over his sweatshirt. Viktor chuckles at that, helping Yuuri pull the sweatshirt off of him before cradling him by the scruff of his neck and driving him back down onto Viktor’s cock.

He comes at that almost immediately, the force of his orgasm ripping through him. Though most of his come ends up in Yuuri, some of it sprays across Yuuri’s stomach as he pulls out, mingling with Yuuri’s own come.

Yuuri reaches one paw down to his navel to scoop up a glob to put into his mouth, tasting it with a scrunch of his nose. Laughing, Viktor bends down and cleans Yuuri up with long, slow licks.

“Maybe we should take a bath,” he suggests, and Yuuri nods eagerly in assent.


The bath is a little less romantic than they’d hoped for, mostly because Yuuri seems to take on the same wet dog smell as Makkachin when his fur gets soaked, and that does rather kill the mood.

Nevertheless, as soon as Yuuri is dry and fluffy again, Viktor cuddles him in his arms, burying his nose against the soft warmth of his fiance’s fuzzy chest as they fall asleep.

It’s in the middle of the night, though, when Viktor wakes to the distinct feeling of something brushing up against his chest.

Yuuri has wriggled out of his arms during the night, it seems, and has suddenly taken a keen interest in Viktor’s nipples. He’s rubbing his little cock against one of them, his breath coming in short, harsh pants as he chases his release. Viktor bites down a moan, trying his hardest not to shift, not to give away the fact that he’s actually awake.

The head of Yuuri’s cock bumps up against Viktor’s nipple suddenly, and then presses inward, slick with Yuuri’s precome. Viktor exhales, his cock twitching as he feels Yuuri fuck his nipple, using him with the same neediness that Viktor had used his asshole hours earlier. Just the thought makes him harden a little more, though he tries his best not to give away how awake he is in this moment.

With a soft pant of Viktor’s name, Yuuri spills all over his nipple before turning his attentions southward. Viktor inhales sharply when he feels Yuuri’s paws against his dick, but he doesn’t dare move.

Yuuri straddles the shaft of his dick now, his tongue licking around the tip like it’s a giant popsicle. Viktor knows he should be ashamed at how hard he is already, but clearly his sense of shame has gone on holiday along with Yuuri’s human form, so he enjoys the feeling of Yuuri’s fur rubbing along his dick instead.

Slowly, Yuuri curls up so that his entire body is pressed to Viktor’s cock, his paws sliding along the shaft as his tongue continues to lick at Viktor’s tip. Briefly it slips into his slit, and Viktor gasps a little at that. The movements pause, but after a moment they start up again.

VIktor lies back against the pillow, losing himself to the sensation of Yuuri running his paws along his cock. He can feel the little pads warm with the friction as they pump at his foreskin; it takes all his self-control not to moan and give away the game. But as pleasurable as it is, it’s still not quite enough for Yuuri’s curiosity, because moments later Viktor feels his tongue against his slit once again.

This time the tongue lingers, pushing into his slit almost experimentally. Viktor twitches at the foreign feeling; Yuuri freezes before pulling out his tongue and licking around the slit instead.

Slowly, Viktor relaxes, shifting onto his back and letting his legs fall open. He can hear Yuuri’s sharp little inhale as he scrambles to adjust; moments later the little dog-boy is scrambling off his dick to play with his balls instead.

Viktor almost comes at the feeling of Yuuri’s paws against his balls. It’s very close.

At that point, though, he decides to give up the charade. “Yuuri?” he murmurs, earning himself a surprised ‘eep!’ and a mad scramble back onto Viktor’s chest. With a chuckle, Viktor opens his eyes and spreads his legs, plucking Yuuri off to settle him between them.

“You make me feel so good, Yuuri,” he coos, his voice a little hoarse, and Yuuri bites hesitantly at his paws as he eyes Viktor’s hardened cock. Then, with a gleam of determination that Viktor recognises from the ice, his little fiance wraps his paws around Viktor’s dick again, rubbing them both to climax.

Viktor cleans them both up, his movements groggy as sleep begins to creep up on him again. It’s easier this time to fall back to sleep, with Yuuri curled in tight against the crook of his neck.


Yakov is displeased once more to hear that Yuuri is still sick, and begrudgingly grants Viktor another free day under the rationale that he’d be distracted with worry if he goes. Viktor hangs up almost gleefully, before turning to the slumbering form of his little fiance in the bed next to him.

He dives down, blowing raspberries against Yuuri’s tummy until he wakes up laughing, and then kisses him good morning before heading into the bathroom to freshen up for the morning.

Yuuri’s little sweatshirt is still dirty, so Viktor decides to throw on some clothes and head to a store to find him suitable doll clothes. He does so while walking Makkachin, spying a Yuuri-sized doll wearing a suit in a toy store on the way back. Just getting the clothes is remarkably easy, though he pretends that it’s for his nonexistent nephew when the cashier raises an eyebrow at him.

Yuuri flushes when Viktor presents him with the little suit. “Those pants aren’t going to fit me,” he says as he takes the shirt, jacket, and tie.

“That’s fine,” says Viktor, resisting the urge to coo when Yuuri ties the little doll-tie around his neck. The jacket comes down to his hips with his tail poking out through the vent in the back; altogether he looks quite fetching. It’s a shame that Viktor wants to muss him back up.

Yuuri twirls around in the jacket with a satisfied hum, before looking up at Viktor and cocking his head.

“What should we do today, then?” he asks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend some time outside the flat?” asks Viktor.

Yuuri pulls at his shirt almost contemplatively, before buttoning up his blazer and shrugging. “Maybe not too far from home,” he suggests, and Viktor nods.

They spend the morning wandering in the neighbourhood around Viktor’s flat, no one really paying any attention to Yuuri as he sits on Viktor’s shoulders. They get some ice cream at a small cafe for lunch, before heading down to the Fontanka to walk along its embankment and listen to the gulls.

It’s around five when they return to the flat, and Viktor quickly fixes something simple for dinner before taking Makkachin out afterwards. When he returns, he has a rather distinct sense of deja-vu as he closes the flat door to see Yuuri nowhere in sight.

Makkachin curls up on his bed in the kitchen while Viktor toes off his shoes and heads for the bedroom, his coat and gloves still on as he swings the door open to see Yuuri sprawled out against the pillows once more, tugging at his cock.

“Viktor,” he breathes as Viktor steps inside, closing the door and taking off his coat. He moves to take off his gloves as well, but Yuuri shakes his head. “Keep those on,” he suggests, and Viktor raises an eyebrow amusedly before tugging his shirt off over his head.

He shrugs out of the rest of his clothes as he approaches the bed, until he’s clad in just his gloves and sitting on the side of the bed, watching Yuuri coax himself into full hardness. His own cock flushes and hardens at the sight, resting low against his hip as he shifts forward to cup Yuuri’s cheek, bringing him forward for a kiss. As he licks into Yuuri’s mouth, he presses forward, rubbing his cock against Yuuri’s little loose hole.

Yuuri moans at the sensation, but shakes his head. “Fingers,” he pleads, shivering as Viktor’s gloved hands move along his fuzzy little body. Viktor nods, slicking up his fingers with the lube on the nightstand before slipping them easily into Yuuri’s hole. Still, despite how easy it is to breach Yuuri now, his walls still seem able to clench around him.

“You’re not sore, are you?” Viktor asks.

“Surprisingly, no,” says Yuuri, his nose twitching cutely as he flushes. His paw slowly runs along his shaft again as he looks up at Viktor with dark, hooded eyes. “Maybe it’ll catch up with me later.”

Viktor laughs at that, leaning in to kiss Yuuri’s nose. “I guess it’s a good thing you can’t skate right now,” he says. Yuuri wrinkles his nose in response.

“I’m looking forward to being able to,” he admits, and Viktor sighs.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Hopefully this will wear off.”

But then Yuuri seems to decide that that’s enough moping, and arches into Viktor’s fingers with a wanton moan. Viktor wraps his other hand around his own cock, pumping along the shaft in time to the thrust of his fingers into Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri bites his paw again, his other one gripping at the sheets as he bucks his hips.

As he watches Yuuri’s cock bob in response to his fingers, precome beading at its tip, Viktor suddenly has an idea and pulls his fingers out of his little fiance. He tosses the gloves to the side, making a mental note to clean them later, and shifts so that he’s leaning against the pillows with his legs spread for Yuuri.

“You haven’t had the chance to fuck me yet,” he explains, and Yuuri flushes, settling between Viktor’s legs with a curious slant to his expression.

“I’d like that,” he agrees. “But I’d also like to be filled.”

Viktor considers that, before reaching into the nightstand and rummaging for a moment, and then pulling out a set of anal beads, the tip just the size of Yuuri’s pucker.

“How about this?” he suggests. Yuuri flushes and nods, so Viktor slicks it up, pressing Yuuri close to his chest as he lines the beads up with his entrance. Yuuri bears down on them even as Viktor begins to slide them up and into his body, and once they’re seated inside, Viktor pulls it out just a little before thrusting them back in, earning him a satisfied moan stifled against his shoulder.

“Now,” he says, kissing Yuuri’s forehead, “how about you fill me up, too?”

Yuuri nods eagerly, crawling over to the nightstand to get some lube onto his paws. Viktor gasps a little when they begin to tease at his entrance, and he shifts back and spreads his cheeks to help give Yuuri better access to him. Yuuri manages to ease the tip of one paw in, but the rest of it doesn’t seem to have much luck getting in until Viktor takes pity on him and fingers himself open for Yuuri, humming in delight as he feels one of Yuuri’s paws sliding inside him, and the other caress his taint and his balls instead.

When Viktor is ready, he pulls his fingers away and wipes them off before entangling them in the hair at Yuuri’s nape, encouraging him forward. Yuuri removes his paw, lines his cock up with Viktor’s entrance, and eagerly pushes in.

It’s not quite the same as being fucked by human Yuuri, but it feels good, in its own way. Yuuri is no less enthusiastic in this form as he fucks into Viktor, buried up to his fuzzy little hilt almost immediately. Viktor clenches around him, his fingers digging into the fur of Yuuri’s plush behind. As Yuuri’s cock brushes up against his prostate with each thrust, Viktor blinks away stars from his vision.

Were they ever this frisky when Yuuri was a human? Viktor wants to think so, but in the recent days they’ve done little more than cuddle after collapsing into their bed at the end of a long gruelling day of practice. In this little half-dog form, Yuuri has more free time on his hands (paws?), sitting around the flat with nothing to do except miss Viktor. It’s no wonder he’s so horny; he could be in heat for all Viktor knows.

The thought of that only makes his own body run a little hotter, makes him buck up into Yuuri’s thrusts a little harder. His hand reaches down, teasing along the handle of the beads in Yuuri’s ass. Slowly he begins to pull a couple out, causing Yuuri’s hips to jerk in surprise. His cockhead rubs a little harder against Viktor’s prostate, and Viktor cries out.

“Do that again,” he begs, pulling out another bead. Yuuri jerks again, a whine tearing from his throat as Viktor clenches around him. He thrusts again, and Viktor abruptly comes.

The force of his walls gripping against Yuuri’s cock causes the little dog-boy to come as well, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants as he fills Viktor with his come. Viktor slowly continues to pull out the beads, making Yuuri twitch and release more come with each new bead sliding out of him.

Finally, he pulls the last bead out just as Yuuri pulls out of him, crawling onto Viktor’s lap to lick at the white ribbons streaked across Viktor’s stomach and chest. In this moment, both Viktor’s heart and asshole feel full, and he brings Yuuri up for a full, deep kiss, savouring the taste of himself on Yuuri’s tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers when they break away, and Yuuri’s cheeks flush pink as he bumps his forehead against Viktor’s.

“Pocha,” he says, and Viktor suspects that it’s just Yuuri’s way of saying he loves him, too.


Viktor must have dozed off shortly after that with Yuuri cradled to his chest, because the next time he opens his eyes, Yuuri is nowhere to be seen.

Viktor blinks at that, concern (and a little more deja-vu) filling him as he swings into an upwards position, wincing just slightly at the slide of come that dribbles out of his hole. So at least that hadn’t been a dream. The little shirt, tie, and suit lie discarded on the bed next to him, and the door to the bathroom is closed.

He knocks on it. “Yuuri?” he calls.

“Just a moment,” Yuuri’s voice echoes out. Moments later, the door swings open, and Yuuri — human Yuuri — is silhouetted in the doorway, brown eyes curious and gleaming behind his glasses.

Viktor feels his cheeks flushing. “I — You’re back,” he remarks.

Yuuri looks down at his decidedly human body, and smiles. “I am,” he says. “Did you miss this?”

Viktor laughs a little weakly. “Do you — how much do you remember?” he asks. “Of when you were… you know.” He puts his hands out in a rough approximation of the little dog-boy’s height, and Yuuri flushes prettily at that, gnawing at his finger in a rough approximant of his smaller counterpart’s nervous habit.

“A lot, actually,” he says. “It wasn’t like… alcohol or something.”

“Wh… what was it like? You’re not hurt, right? I mean, I was…”

Yuuri flushes even harder at that. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m just a little sore. Could’ve been worse, though.”

Definitely understating things, Viktor thinks, remembering the little bulge that the smaller Yuuri would get whenever Viktor slammed his cock inside him. “I swear, if I hurt you —”

“It was probably a magic side effect,” Yuuri interrupts, embarrassment seeping into his every word. “Let’s not… let’s not think too hard about that, okay?”

Viktor would like nothing more. Yuuri opens his arms, and Viktor runs into them immediately, burying his nose in the crook of Yuuri’s neck and inhaling the scent of his hair. He can feel Yuuri’s laugh reverberate in his chest, and only dimly feels Yuuri walking them back towards the bed before the backs of his legs hit the edge. Yuuri presses them down, raising himself on his elbows and tracing the cupid’s bow of Viktor’s lips with a small, devious smile.

“I missed you, Vitya,” he purrs, leaning in to lick at Viktor’s cheek. Viktor’s almost embarrassed at how such a small gesture can make him hard again.

“I missed you, too,” he says, reaching up to cup Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri’s devious smile flares into a grin. “Pocha pocha,” he teases, his hand reaching down to grip Viktor’s cock.

Viktor isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan.