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Yuri's White Vancation

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He was slouching aggressively and glaring at his phone when the white van parallel-parked next to him. Yakov might have banned him from skating for the weekend but he couldn’t make Yuri like it. His stupid ankle was fine and Yakov was a stupid worrier.

 The back of the van opened up and two guys got out carrying a shitty old couch upholstered with plaid flowers. Assholes. Yuri glared at them before he went back to his phone, checking for new messages.

 They dropped the couch in his path, keeping him from moving forward, and Yuri only got three words into his scathing assessment of their ancestry before the larger one grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and threw him into the van.

 “Hey--!” Yuri yelled, scrabbling to his knees and lunging toward the closing door, and hitting it as the latch clicked into place. “What the actual fuck, you shit-sucking goat humpers? Let me out!” The inside latch was a melted hunk of plastic, impossible to open. Yuri gave up on it as he felt the van dip to the side, someone getting into on of the seats up front.

 The only source of light in the back of the van was Yuri’s cell phone screen. The light was orange because his home screen was a tiger. Yuri banged on the partition between the cargo area and the driver as he grabbed his phone and stuck it in his pocket. “Hey idiots, you forgot your stupid couch!”

 A man yelled at him to shut the fuck up, and another guy hushed him. There’d been two guys in the back with the couch, which meant there had to be a driver. So at least three guys.

 The van’s engine took a few tries to start up and then it pulled out into traffic like it was being driven by a fucking grandma. Yuri scowled and dropped down to the plastic covered floor, grabbing his phone and unlocking it.

 “He can’t get out, right?” one of the guys up front asked.

“Nah, we fixed the door good.”

 Yuri paused with his finger poised over the call button, 112 lit up in big white letters on his screen. If he could hear them, they could hear him.

He back out of the screen and opened Chrome.

    Can you text police?

 The answers took too long to load, and they weren’t helpful. Disgusted, Yuri closed it and went into his contacts.

 

Coach: Rest it for a few days                 

                        Call police, kidnapped in white van :Yuri

          near sandwiches place by rink

 

Yakov didn’t reply immediately. Yuri stared at his phone, wondering if that was enough, then texted:

 

                                      If surprise party, is stupid :Yuri


This sucked. He opened the navigation app on his phone, and watched the little arrow move down a bunch of roads he didn’t recognize. Yuri screencapped it and posted it to Instagram, figuring that at least they’d be able to find his corpse even if Yavok sucked and never checked his phone.

 

Yuri-plisetsky Totally being kidnapped.

Yuri-plisetsky #callpolice #whitevan

 

Then he took a selfie--okay, he took three. The first two didn’t look fierce enough.

 

Yuri-plisetsky Kidnapping in progress

Yuri-plisetsky #callpolice #whitevan

 

The van took a corner, and Yuri swiped to the map app, screencapped it and send it to Yakov.

 

Still being kidnapped. If I die its

                              all your fault

 

His phone chimed and Yuri turned down the volume, frowning when it still wasn’t Yakov. He could contact grandpa, but then grandpa would worry.

 

Yuri-plisetsky Kidnapping in progress

Yuri-plisetsky #callpolice #whitevan

 

Best_Yuri_Fan omg u look so firce

 

“Hey, he just updated his Instagram.”

Yuri glanced at the partition, biting his lip as he sent a scathing reply. Shit. He should have stuck to texting.

“Yeah--ooooh. You didn’t take his damned phone?”

 “He had a phone?”

 “Pull over!”

 

***

 

Yuri woke up naked with something stuffed up his ass and the meowing sound of his phone taking photos.

“Whore son of a--uuuph!” His protest was cut off by some asshole sticking his fingers in his mouth. Yuri bit down until he tasted blood, and shook his head like fierce tiger snapping the neck of its prey.

“Little fucker!” Something hit the side of his head so hard he saw stars. His jaws loosened only for a second, but the finger escaped. Yuri spat out the blood and tried to open his eyes.

 Someone laughed and the thing up his ass moved, pressing deeper before sliding back. “Just wait for your turn, Ja--”

“Don’t fucking say my name!”

There was something wrong with his eyes. Probably a blindfold, Yuri decided as he squirmed a hand free from whatever was holding it and clawing at the guy sitting between his legs.

The sweet cry of pain as he snagged a nipple with a ragged nail felt great, right up until Yuri had the immensely belated realization that the guy between his legs was fucking his formerly virgin ass. “What the fuck are you shit-stealing cock weasels doing? Get the fuck off of me!”

 “Can it, loser--” Yui got his other hand free, and raked his nails through something that felt tender and skin-like, and the talker stop talking in favour of shrieking.

 “Pin his hands down! How fucking useless are you?”

It too three of them to pin him down again, and Yuri got a few more shots in, including one that made a guy cry like Georgi. None of it got the dick out of his ass.

“We’ve got you on camera, you little shit-for brains cocksucker. I can post you spreading your legs for cock on your stupid Instagram, and don’t think that I won’t!”

 Yuri stopped struggling. “I will end every last one of you. I will hunt you down and cut your balls off and feed them to starving alley cats while you watch and beg me to give them back, but I won’t!

His speech was punctuated by a flood of warmth inside him, and the guy groaning. “Aw, yeah that ass is sweet!”

Yuri endured the slap to his right asscheek stoically and said, “Go lick Satan’s asshole, you filthy son of a filthier whore.”

Another man replaced the first. Yuri’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he felt something trickle out of his asshole before it was plugged up with cock again. This was so gross.

“You like my cock, baby boy?”

“What cock?” Yuri snapped back, hearing his phone meow again and wishing he’d put a lockscreen on it. “I can’t feel any cocks.” He’s lying. This guy was bigger and thicker than the last one, and his ass felt uncomfortably stretched by it, but fuck if he was giving this asshole the satisfaction.

“Can’t feel it? Well, we can fix that. J--”

“I told you not to use my name!”

“Whatever, just get over here. Little Yuri needs more cock.”

  Well fuck. Yuri grit his teeth, and contemplated how bad it would be to have photos of him being fucked by a bunch of men posted to Instagram. Grandpa would be disappointed in him, and Yakov might make him miss even more practice, but was that really that bad?

 “He’s got teeth like a fucking piranha. I’m not sticking my dick in there.”

 “His ass is like a velvet vacuum. Fuck it with me.”

 A rapid exchange of approval at the idea, and then they hauled Yuri upright, slapping him when he protested. The dick sank deeper in him in the new position, and Yuri snarled unhappily when it almost felt good for a second. “Your entire family is made of rats in human skin overcoats. All of it!”

 Yuri’s phone meowed, and someone sat down behind him, fully clothed except for the cock prodding against his already full asshole. “Mouthy little cock-sleeve, isn’t he?”

 “I hate you!” Yuri snarled, squirming away from the cage of flesh as best he could, the second cock pressing into him, and he wasn’t big enough for both, he was going to rip, and then he’d have to figure out how to fix that or just bleed to death, because there was no way in hell that he was ever letting anyone look at it.

 “What, no insults?” the guy behind him asked. He grabbed Yuri’s hips and dragged him down onto his cock, laughing when Yuri’s dumb body suddenly gave way, and his cock popped in alongside his stupid friend’s.

 Yuri wasn’t crying, it just hurt a lot. Maybe he’d made a noise, but who wouldn’t have?

They worked together to move him up and down on their cocks, and he should have fought harder, but he just wanted to go home and have six million showers to wash these perverts off of him.

“Get a shot of his face, would you? Look how sad the little fuckhole looks!”

His phone meowed, and Yuri tried to cheer himself up with thoughts of murdering these assholes. It didn’t work very well.

They didn’t last very long. He felt their come spilling inside him, and pictured it mingling with the first one’s in a haze of disgusted horror. “I hate you,” Yuri repeated, and he didn’t feel clever, or smart, or fierce, or talented. He just felt dirty.