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Fairy Tale Bliss

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Viktor’s skates glide across the ice with effortless grace. As he picks up speed, Yuuri knows he's about to do a quad flip. He sucks in a breath as Viktor lands it perfectly, as though he hasn't taken off the past eight months to coach Yuuri.

They are back in Hasetsu, practicing at Ice Castle. Yuuko clears the rink out every other morning so Viktor and Yuuri can train in peace. It is a month after the Grand Prix Finals, where Yuuri won silver and Viktor decided to return to competing.

Viktor is working on his short program. He won't share the music with Yuuri quite yet, but he is sure Viktor will pick something phenomenal. Viktor's movements seem to be renewed with energy, his dancing reminiscent of his junior days.

He says that Yuuri has given him inspiration.

How is Yuuri this lucky to get this perfect specimen as his lover? Why does Viktor love him, above all of his thousands of adoring fans? Sometimes, Yuuri is worried he can't handle the pressure. He feels better knowing that Viktor is returning to competition. Maybe Viktor's fans won't hate him as much for stealing him away.

Viktor stops dancing to the music and skates forward, grinning at Yuuri. "What?"

Yuuri realizes that he has stopped in the middle of the ice to watch Viktor. No matter how hard he tries, he sometimes goes into fanboy-mode when he watches Viktor skate. He instantly turns red and looks away. "Nothing."

He flashes his famous Viktor grin and shakes his head. Yuuri watches as his perfect platinum hair swishes from side to side, then lays to rest in the exact spot it began. "Yuuuuuri."

Yuuri looks away again, but this time, he smiles. He loves it when Viktor says his name. It reminds him that yes, this is real life and not one of the many dreams he's had about skating with Viktor Nikiforov.

He hears the sound of skate blades cutting through ice. When he looks up, Viktor is in front of him. Yuuri locks eyes with him and Viktor waves. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I thought we were supposed to be practicing."

Yuuri tilts his head. "I guess we should keep practicing. We have the Four Continents to worry about, don't we?"

Viktor takes Yuuri's hand and rubs his wrist. "You seem tired. Why don't we take a little break?"

Yuuri sniffs and holds his chin up. "I'm not tired. I could keep skating...if you want."

"Or we could take a shower."

Perhaps Viktor is the tired one, looking for an excuse to take a break. Yuuri turns and begins skating back to the exit from the ice. "It is a little cold."

"Yuuri."

Yuuri stops and looks back at Viktor, who looks at him pointedly. "We could take a shower. Together."

"Oh." The pieces fall together. Viktor wants them to shower together.

Between all of the traveling and competing, they haven't spent a lot of intimate time together. It's been a lot of heated kisses with hasty handjobs, but they did made love shortly after the Grand Prix Final. It was everything they could do to keep their hands off each other during the banquet, but they managed to make it back to the hotel room without any indecent exposure. Yuuri fights a smile as he thinks about their kiss while waiting for the elevator, grinding against each other inside the elevator, and Viktor carrying Yuuri to their hotel room.

"This time, I want you to fuck me."

Yuuri's mouth drops open and he feels his cock grow against his tights. "What?"

Viktor skates to the rink exit and begins to unlace his skates. "You heard me. I would like for you to fuck me."

Yuuri nods slowly. "Are you sure? What if I'm bad?"

Viktor pulls his skates off and looks up at Yuuri. "Surely you don't expect you'll be alone in the endeavor. However, that'll never happen if you don't get your skates off."

He angles his skates back and forth, shifting his weight to his ankles and balancing on the heel of his skate. "Right."

Yuuri sits on the bench beside Viktor and slides the skate covers on his shoes. He steals a glance at Viktor, who is now sauntering to the locker room. He winks, and Yuuri quickly undoes his laces and slides out of his skates. He stands, and walks to the locker room door.

He knows that the love between him and Viktor is strong, and anything they do together is electric, but he can't help but be nervous. He's topped only once before, with a man he met in Detroit years ago. It was an awful experience. What if he hurts Viktor?

He shakes the thoughts from his mind and enters the locker room. Viktor is stripping out of his clothes. He had chosen not to wear his costume and instead a pair of stretchy pants and an athletic top. Now, the shirt is left forgotten on the floor and the pants are sliding down Viktor's muscular quads.

Yuuri moves like lightning toward his lover and grasps his hands. He threads his fingers through Viktor's and leans forward, their lips centimeters away from a kiss.

"If you want me to take the lead this time, you'll have to let me finish undressing you."

Viktor beams, flashing the smile he seems to reserve only for Yuri, and squeezes his hands. "Where do you want to start?"

Yuuri leads Viktor to a row of lockers, presses him against them, and draws their lips together in a kiss.

Viktor lets out a low moan and deepens the kiss. Yuuri likes this obedient Viktor, that he can go the pace that he enjoys.

Yuuri steps closer, pressing their chests together. Viktor shivers against the scratch of sequins rubbing on his bare chest. Yuuri releases Viktor's hands and traces his fingers along Viktor's stomach, finally wrapping his arms around his lover. He pushes his tongue against Viktor's and arousal shoots straight to his groin. Viktor clearly notices this, as he begins grinding against Yuuri.

He considers what will happen next. Should they go into the showers? The bench? Against the lockers? He shakes his head at that thought, accidentally breaking their kiss.

Viktor opens his eyes, showing pupils dilated with lust. "Yuuri? Is something wrong?"

Yuuri gives him a small smile. "Of course not. , Lay down on this bench over here."

He backs up enough so Viktor can pass by and sit down on the nearest bench .

"What do you have planned, my katsudon?"

Yuuri straddles Viktor and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Unzip me."

He continues kissing along Viktor's jawline and neck as he finds the zipper and slides it down. Without breaking contact with Viktor's skin, Yuuri shrugs out of the top of his costume. Viktor hums in appreciation as Yuuri drops his lips lower to his collarbone. He slides down Viktor's body until Yuuri is on his knees on the locker room floor. Yuuri pauses to enjoy the salty remnants of Viktor's workout on his tongue, then kisses lower and lower until he reaches Viktor's nipples.

He presses kisses to Viktor's left nipple while running his thumb along the right one, gently flicking his nail against it. Viktor keens at the overwhelming sensation, thrusting upward. "Yuuri."

Yuuri draws his hands down to Viktor's navel, then traces his steps back up to his nipple, this time pinching it. "Yes?"

"Yuuri - please."

"What do you want?"

Viktor stretches his legs, his hips rising anxiously. "Touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere."

Yuuri ends his attention of Viktor's nipples and looks up at him. Viktor is already a mess--pink in the face, his hair tousled, and he is taking in sharp breaths. It's so satisfying, knowing that he can bring Viktor to this point. Their relationship leading up to the Grand Prix Final often felt uneven. Seeing Viktor like this helps confirm that he is just as in love with Yuuri as Yuuri is with him.

Arousal pools in his groin, and Yuuri has to gives himself a quick squeeze so he doesn't get too carried away. He plans on drawing this out as long as possible.

Yuuri continues to press messy kisses down Viktor's torso, pausing to lap at his navel. Viktor tenses and his arms shoot out to Yuuri's shoulders. "You know I'm ticklish."

Yuuri grins into Viktor's skin and blows a raspberry, causing Viktor to laugh and bring his legs up in the air, trying to get away from the attack. Perfect.

He takes advantage of Viktor's position and hooks his fingers around the waistband of Viktor's boxer briefs, sliding them down his legs as quickly as possible. Viktor props himself up with his forearms, looking below so he can see what Yuuri has planned next.

"Lay down, Viktor. Let me do the work." Yuuri sets Viktor's underwear aside and settles back between his thighs.

Yuuri takes a moment to appreciate the view of Viktor's cock, its impressive length, girth, and the way it bobs back and forth in the cool air. Viktor is far paler than Yuuri but is warmer to the touch. Yuuri supposes it's living in freezing cold Russia his whole life that makes him warm, and Yuuri won't ever complain about being able to reach for his warm boyfriend in the cold of night.

He takes Viktor's testes in his mouth and sucks on the stretchy skin. Viktor reaches for his prick, but Yuuri bats his hand away and licks a stripe up his shaft.

"Oh, fuck."

Yuuri takes Viktor's cock in his hand and pulls down on the foreskin, revealing a leaking tip and purple head clearly straining for release.

He kisses the tip, then laps up the precome, pushing his tongue into the slit of Viktor's prick. It tastes wonderful, and Yuuri wants to chase that taste by making him come just by his mouth.

Yuuri wraps his lips around Viktor's cock and takes it in his mouth, painfully slow, until it's at the back of Yuuri's throat. While he hasn't had a lot of practice at the art of cock sucking, Yuuri is eager to please and tries to swallow it whole.

He coughs, pulling the cock out a bit more, but then continues to take him deep, tongue massaging Viktor's shaft, breathing through his nose.

He's so focused on pleasing Viktor that when he looks up, he is surprised to see Viktor with his fist in his mouth, suppressing any noises he might be tempted to make. Viktor switches between raising his head to watch Yuuri and dropping it back down, overwhelmed with pleasure. Finally, Viktor tugs on his hair, an indication that he is close to climax. Yuuri hums in appreciation of the sight of a completely undone Viktor and removes his mouth.

Viktor nearly cries at the lack of touch. "Yuuri, why?"

Yuuri turns to his athletic bag. "Just need to get something."

He rummages through the bag until he finds the condom and lube, something his parents made him carry around since he was a teenager. It was a humiliating conversation, but Yuuri has to admit that it has come in handy.

He turns back to Viktor and squirts some lube in his hand, coating his fingers and rubbing his hands to warm it up.

With one hand, he begins stroking Viktor, bringing him back to the point he left him. With the other, he slides his hand down Viktor's perineum to his ass, eventually reaching his crack.

Viktor shifts forward, causing Yuuri's finger to line up with his hole. Yuuri times it perfectly; he takes Viktor's cock back into his mouth, slowly taking more and more of it as his finger slides into Viktor's heat.

Yuuri is pleased to hear that Viktor can't hold in his moans anymore. He hears murmurs of both English and Russian, but it's all babbling. He syncs the thrusts of his fingers with the movement of his mouth, curling his finger until he feels the tender nub inside of Viktor.

Viktor comes without warning, shooting hot seed into Yuuri's mouth. He savors the taste, but continues the unrelenting thrust of his finger. Once Viktor is past his climax, Yuuri swallows, lapping up any come that dribbled out of his mouth. Viktor moans again, overstimulated by the attention after his orgasm.

He kisses down past Viktor's cock until his mouth meets his finger. He licks Viktor's entrance and adds a second finger, scissoring and stretching him as he presses kisses all along Viktor's entrance. He loves the taste of Viktor, loves every piece of him that he can reach. Food and water no longer have the same need as much as the need to be with Viktor, to touch Viktor as much as possible.

At first, Viktor doesn't seem to be responding to the new attention, too blissed out from his orgasm to participate. However, after several minutes, Yuuri notices that Viktor's prick is lengthening again and he begins thrusting in time with Yuuri's fingers.

"Yuuri - I'm ready." Viktor's voice is low, filled with need and lust.

Yuuri lifts his head up but doesn't stop moving his fingers. "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

Viktor sits up the best he can and reaches his hand to touch Yuuri's cheek. "Yuuri, you could never hurt me. It will be amazing."

He nods. "Okay. I want to try something. Do you trust me?"

Viktor pinches Yuuri's cheeks. "That's a ridiculous question. Of course."

Yuuri pulls his fingers out of Viktor, stands up, and finally takes off the last bit of his costume. Viktor stares at Yuuri's cock. "What?"

"I can't wait to have you inside of me."

Yuuri grabs the condom from the bench, pulls it out of the wrapper and slides it down his prick. Just the sensation of the wetness from the lube makes Yuuri keen. "Okay, stand up."

He leads Viktor to the showers, where he turns on the hot water. Soon, steam is emanating throughout the room, and Viktor is looking confused.

"Yuuri, I don't know if my legs will let me stand."

Yuuri grins and presses a hot kiss to Viktor's lips. "It's a good thing you won't be standing."

He picks up Viktor's arms and places them on his shoulders, then pushes Viktor so his back is flush against the wall. He bends down and takes hold of the back of Viktor's knees, lifting him into the air in one movement. Viktor squeals and wraps his ankles around Yuuri's hips.

He uses the wall to brace Viktor's weight as he positions his cock at his entrance before letting him slide down, fully sheathed inside Viktor Nikiforov.

They moan in tandem. Yuuri gives Viktor a chance to acclimate to the sensation and adjust as needed before he begins thrusting.

It's bliss. The pressure to please dissipates as he hears Viktor's pants, enjoying the penetration as much as Yuuri is. Viktor is so tight, so warm, so perfect. Hot water drips down their bodies, causing the nerves on Yuuri's skin to be even more sensitive.

He kisses Viktor, and they are connected in every possible way. He can taste Viktor's saliva combined with the saltiness of his come from earlier, and the knowledge that he's had his mouth on Viktor's mouth, cock, and ass all within a matter of minutes is unbelievably satisfying.

His thrusts speed up, become more forceful as his orgasm threatens to overtake him. He angles himself to try and hit Viktor's prostate, but he finds it more difficult at their position. He ends their kiss, letting Viktor fall against the wall; it's clear that he's struck it when Viktor throws his head back, his ass clenching around Yuuri's cock.

Yuuri's arms are growing tired, but he can't stop now, not when he's bringing so much pleasure to the both of them. "Touch yourself, Vitya."

Viktor's eyes open wide, and he removes one arm from Yuuri's shoulders. He reaches for his cock, his expression almost asking for permission. Yuuri nods, still thrusting deeply inside of Viktor.

He grasps his hand around his cock, and Yuuri takes a moment to enjoy the sight of a debauched Viktor stroking himself as he gets fucked into a shower wall in a public locker room. Viktor looks up and sees that Yuuri is watching him. He gives Yuuri a small grin and his strokes become more pronounced, as though he is performing for Yuuri.

It is amazing to feel that reciprocity, after months of Yuuri performing for Viktor on the ice, that Viktor is now putting on a private show for him. Viktor moves like he does on the ice, with grace and athleticism. His white hair is flat against his head, water dripping from his nose and chin. His head is pointed down, but his eyes haven't left Yuuri's since he began touching himself. Viktor's eyelashes flutter with each stroke, but his stare is burning a hole inside of Yuuri's heart.

"I'm close." Viktor's tone is low, almost a whisper. "This is what you do to me, Yuuri. I'm about to come twice in one afternoon."

His words go straight to Yuuri's groin. He slides Viktor against the wall and pushes their faces together. "Hold onto the shower head."

Viktor obeys Yuuri immediately, wrapping his hands around the pipe and lifts himself up, but grins. "What if we break it?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "Don't care. I want to touch you."

He speeds up his thrusts inside Viktor, ragged and rough, but also grips Viktor's cock and frantically strokes it.

Finally, the pressure builds up to the point where Yuuri cannot fight it any longer. He cries out, slams into Viktor one last time, and reaches his climax. Yuuri sees stars. His head falls onto Viktor's chest as he empties his cock into Viktor's ass, sobbing in pleasure. At some point, he registers the fact that Viktor's body is covered in goosebumps and there are ribbons of come emerging from Viktor's prick.

The roaring of the orgasm is gone, and Yuuri hears nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing and the shower beating down on them.

Yuuri lifts his head and presses a kiss to Viktor's lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He pulls out of Viktor and slowly lowers his legs as he lets go of the shower head. Viktor stumbles a bit at the sensation of holding himself up, so he holds onto Yuuri for balance. Yuuri leads them back to the locker room, where he disposes of the condom.

"That was fantastic. Are you sure you won't top every time?"

Yuuri looks up at Viktor with a smile. "Not a chance, Nikiforov."

They dry off and get dressed quickly. They have dinner plans with Christophe, Mila, and Yurio, and they're already running late.

After one last smoldering kiss, Viktor takes Yuuri's hand and leads him out of the ice rink and to the car, and Yuuri can't think of another moment where he is this happy.