Yuuri Katsuki has always been his own worst critic, and a series of unfortunate short-lived relationships has him convinced that he flubs things more in the bedroom than out on the ice. So, of course it would turn out that the ridiculously charming Russian he's matched with online is a pornstar.
But perhaps, a 'professional opinion' is exactly what Yuuri needs...
Bookmarked by foraslanthelion
20 Oct 2017
"What is it with alphas in rut and feeding me?" says Yuri. It just comes out, because Yuri is a disaster.
"What," says Victor.
"What," says Yuri.
"What?" says Victor. "I'm not in -- which alpha was feeding you? What did they feed you? Were they courting you? Did you --"
"I'm going back to bed," says Yuri.
When Yuuri reaches a comment that praises his characterization and prose, tacking on a curious, Will there be smut?, Yuuri feels his brain short-circuit. His face is dangerously close to melting right off in embarrassment, because Yuuri actually thinks about it, and imagining Victor doing - him - or him with Victor -- god.
No, he jabs out, and leaves it at that because Yuuri can't right now.
A collection of short fics, mostly things I wrote on tumblr, that are too short to be posted individually.
Yuuri, given to periodic bouts of paranoia, would often wonder if Viktor is, in fact, a Russian drug lord on the loose, seeking refuge in a nondescript town in America. This would explain a manner of things: his evasiveness whenever probed about his job; the way he’d unpredictably throw out incisive, thoughtful commentary about the morning news over breakfast; his expensive tastes in shirts, watches, and wallets alike; why he’d want to stay here with Yuuri, of all places, when the contents his wardrobe alone could probably afford him a year-long stay at any condominium of his choice in the trendiest part of town.
And then he goes on to discover that Viktor actually has a premium account on club penguin, and that his five penguins are named Peanut Wigglebutt, Luke skyhopper, Zing Zing, Otto Von Longdong, and Mooshoo Vegetable, and beats the idea to death in his head.