Actions

Work Header

Laundry Day

Work Text:

Bright yellow, singing of sunlight and summer, caused Yuuri to halt immediately. It was like an assault on the senses amongst the deep blues and blacks dominating the laundry basket.

Yuuri closed his eyes, not bothering to count the seconds. He really should not have been surprised by this point. Yet somehow after months of living together, Victor and his luxury apartment were still determined to introduce Yuuri to a world of new concepts. Heated hardwood flooring in the living room, the stereo system speakers in the bathroom, the presence of an entire room dedicated to the washing machine and dryer. Countless smaller things.

"Victor," Yuuri called out to his fiancé from the laundry room, voice a lot steadier than it would have been a year ago had he found such a thing back at his family’s inn in Hasetsu. "...Do you happen to own a yellow thong?"

“Yep!” Victor’s reply came back as cheerful as the color of the underwear, brazen as always. “It was a birthday present from Chris.”

"I’m so shocked," Yuuri muttered to himself, not shocked at all, and tossed said thong in the wash. The happy yellow winked back at him from inside the machine. "...How come I’ve never seen you wear it?"

“It's not the most comfortable,” Victor said, appearing in the doorway on the laundry room. Victor paused, watching Yuuri sort through their laundry and straighten out bundled socks before he added them to the rest of the clothes.

Yuuri tried not to blush at how Victor’s lips quirked. But he knew that look.

“Why do you ask, darling?”

Yuuri really hated when Victor pulled that tone of voice, because of how quickly it could make him fall apart. All teasing and knowing, and Yuuri could feel the heat on his cheeks giving up like a repeat offender.

That voice and that look were exactly what had Yuuri letting Victor press him into the mattress the night before, sore muscles of training be damned. Yuuri shifted on his knees, feeling where he was still pliant from the night before. It did absolutely nothing to quell his blush.

"Just wondering what they're doing in the laundry," he replied, dumping the rest of the clothing into the machine before firmly shutting the door. "If they're not 'comfortable'."

“Well, it is laundry day,” Victor said, prowling towards Yuuri, smirk stretched wide and obvious.

Yuuri looked away from him, focusing entirely on the task of setting the washing machine, trying hard to give off a disinterested vibe.

“I didn't have a whole lot of choice.”

“Hmm,” Yuuri acknowledged noncommittally, but then Victor knelt down next to him, making it very difficult to remember how to input the standard settings. There was that special depth layering Victor’s voice, thickening his accent in exactly the way Yuuri liked, especially when it was purring out his name.

“Disappointed, Yuuri?”

"Why would I be disappointed?" Yuuri asked, exhaling deeply and about to start the machine before he realized that he had forgotten to add the soap. Which left him with two choices. Start it and hope by some miracle that could get Victor out of the room and distracted enough to give him a chance to sneak back in and add it before the cycle progressed too far. Or, basically admit to his fiancé that the thought of Victor's pert buttocks being highlighted by sunny yellow was highly distracting and strangely tempting.

After a moment of contemplation, Yuuri elected for option two, convincing himself it was the smarter choice because it put distance between himself and Victor. Made it a little easier to breath straight. "...When did you wear it?" Yuuri was certain he would have remembered seeing something that bright.

“Thursday,” Victor replied, sitting back comfortably on the floor to watch as Yuuri fetched the soap from the nearby cabinet, movements carefully deliberate. “Just something to wear after my shower at training.”

Yuuri had taken that Thursday off, Yakov claiming that for at least one day a week he needed Victor without distraction. So Yuuri had spent the day with Makkachin, stretching and then relaxing sore muscles. By the time Victor made it home that evening, Yuuri had been half asleep. And when Victor crawled into bed there definitely had been no underwear involved. Yellow or otherwise.

“Oh,” was all Yuuri could manage to say, fumbling with the cabinet door when his memory blessed him with a replay of Thursday night, of Victor’s smooth and entirely unclothed skin sliding against his own. Although Yuuri wasn't looking at him, he just knew Victor was grinning at him, reading his blush like an open book.

“'My, my, Yuuri. Had I known you'd be so forlorn about it I would've made more of an occasion of wearing it,” Victor said and Yuuri flushed all the more, grabbing the laundry soap with a little more force than was necessary.

“I'm not forlorn,” Yuuri muttered, but Victor was still chuckling softly as Yuuri knelt back down to fix the soap issue.

It was a bit difficult keeping his hand steady when adding soap to the clothes and double-checking the machine settings to make sure he had not missed any of them. Not that it was complicated. It wasn't. But the thought of Victor stepping into a yellow thong after a shower in a public locker room kept creeping up. Part of him was very glad he had not been there to witness it. Undoubtedly, he would have heard himself squeak, felt the heat coloring his skin. But part of him really wanted the real-life image to go with the one in his imagination.

"You forgot the rinse cycle, darling," Victor pointed out and Yuuri could hear the smirk on his lips. Victor seemed very much aware of exactly what he was doing and what Yuuri was thinking, and Yuuri knew he was not going to get away with it.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Yuuri readjusted the settings and checked them, again, before starting the machine with more determination and purpose than necessary. It rumbled to life.

Huffing as he turned to look at Victor, who was sitting on the floor, Yuuri’s eyes raked up the long legs stretched out before him. Yuuri followed them up to the waistline of Victor’s sweatpants. "...What are you wearing now?"

Victor grinned wolfishly, having gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Nothing,” Victor said and that was as far as Yuuri let him get before he shuffled across the floor and clambered into Victor's lap, knees coming down on either side of Victor's hips. Victor looked up at Yuuri from under his fringe, blue eyes alight with amusement.

That just simply wouldn't do. Victor was not allowed to laugh at him in that moment. Yuuri was not about to hand him the gift of a victory that easily.

Leaning into Victor’s body, Yuuri kissed him a little roughly, loving the small grunt of surprise Victor made at the force. He ran his hands up and down Victor's chest, loose sleep shirt bunching as he did so. Through the thin material, Yuuri could feel every bump and firm line of Victor's muscles, setting him on fire.

Victor parted his lips, welcoming Yuuri in and Yuuri pushed his tongue forward, meeting Victor's with wet resistance. Low growl coming deep from the back of his throat, both of Victor’s hands gripped Yuuri's hips, tugging him forward and holding him flush.

Yuuri moaned as Victor swiped his tongue, lips turning hot from the attention. It was always good, like everything Victor did. And Victor certainly hadn't been lying about the absence of an extra layer, the truth of his statement obvious when Yuuri ground down on Victor's lap.

Yuuri had made a mental list of all the things he had wanted to do that morning. They had managed to get a day off together, no small feat, and Yuuri fully intended to use it well. Start the laundry, make a good breakfast, perhaps wrangle Victor into helping him hold Makkachin still so Yuuri could trim the dog's nails. Incredible how easily that to-do list was swiped clean and replaced with only one thing: Victor.

It would have been so easy to melt into strong hands pulling them flush together, into Victor's hot mouth and the beckoning of his skilled tongue. But he also did not want to give Victor to satisfaction of so easily derailing everything Yuuri had set out to do.

He dipped his fingers beneath the waistline of Victor's sweats, smirking to himself and swallowing down the grain of confidence he felt when Victor's abdomen tightened beneath his touch. Yuuri slid his fingers left, then right, just below the fabric, searching and indeed finding nothing beneath. He then tugged at the lining just so and slipped his fingers out, letting the elastic waistband snap back against Victor's skin. "...What a shame."

Victor's breath hitched in reaction and Yuuri chased it by walking his hands up Victor's chest, over the Russian's shoulders so that he could pull a little more sharply than usual at silver strands.

“I would have quite liked to see it,” Yuuri admitted, knowing exactly how to make Victor produce that surprised face he always did when he unexpectedly got his way.

And there it was. Glistening lips parting for a wordless exhale, pupils blooming.

Yuuri smiled, tugging Victor's head back by the hair and kissing him again, taking full control. He ran his tongue through Victor's mouth, urging and maybe a little needy. However, going by the way Victor tightened his grip and groaned, he was enjoying it.

Taking Victor's tongue into his mouth, Yuuri gave one deep suck, sending Victor's body trembling beneath his. Victor slipped his hands down Yuuri's back, fingers slipping into under the waistband of sweatpants.

“Yuuri,” Victor whined when Yuuri pulled away, rolling his hips deliberately as he did so.

Another groan parted from Victor's lips, body betraying his response to absolutely everything that Yuuri was doing. "You're teasing," Victor continued with his protest, watching how Yuuri arched back in imitation of a performance on the ice or in their bed.

So often it was Victor doing the teasing, taking clear delight in how Yuuri reacted by stammering and blushing, whether they were out in public or in the privacy of their home. It was sometimes relentless, winding Yuuri up with light touches and words, sweet names and winks and suggestive comments, always testing. Yuuri no longer doubted the theory that Victor did it all in hopes of getting Yuuri to this exact point. To snap and take his payback.

Once again, he ground down with purpose against Victor, feeling the building of a very telling sign that Victor was enjoying his treatment more than a little. He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Victor's shirt collar, tugging his fiancé in, sudden and close.

Teasing another kiss but going right past it, Yuuri trailed parted lips across Victor's jawline to exhale against his ear. "You know that I'm not wearing anything either... It's all in the wash."

The response was instant, like magic.

With a display of his immense strength, Victor looped his hands down and around Yuuri's thighs, leaning forward to gather momentum to stand up.

It was awkward and a little terrifying, as the added weight of Yuuri sent Victor too far forward and, for a second, Yuuri was certain they would crash into the nearby cabinet. Yelping, Yuuri clutched onto the fabric of Victor’s shirt, hooking legs tight around Victor’s waist.

Regaining his footing quickly, Victor’s growl of determination rumbled against the side of Yuuri’s jaw and drew out a short laugh. Thrilled at Victor's impatience and buzzing with heat from the show of Victor's strength, Yuuri kissed down along Victor's neck, trailing teeth and loving how the line of Victor’s throat trembled as he did.

Victor walked them two or three steps, before pressing Yuuri against the wall. Yuuri pulled back from his kisses, smirking at the marks blooming on the pale skin of Victor’s neck. He flicked his tongue over one of them. “I thought we were heading to the bedroom.”

“No time,” Victor responded, surging forward and claiming Yuuri's lips again, along with his control.

Yuuri melted, whimpering a little as Victor nipped at his lower lip. Arms kept wound around Victor’s neck, he arched off the wall to grind against the other, legs hooked firm around Victor's waist. Victor was absolutely right. No time like the present.

Kissing back, Yuuri moaned when Victor sucked on his tongue and tugged at his lips with teeth, all strength and power as he braced Yuuri against the wall.

Fingers mapping to cradle the back of Victor’s neck, Yuuri dropped his other hand between them. Pushing up Victor’s shirt to palm at the muscle of the Russian’s stomach and then dip his touch down to tease at the waistband of Victor’s sweats again, Yuuri reveled in how Victor’s mouth stuttered across his skin in response.

As much as Yuuri was enjoying the position, supported by Victor’s arms and the hard lines of his body, it was hardly fit for more than a hasty fumble. Pushing down any flicker of nerves, Yuuri breathed against the shell of Victor’s ear. “Ever done someone on a washing machine while it’s running?”

Victor froze in his apparent mission to bite his very name onto Yuuri’s neck. He looked up, blue eyes burning and beautiful. Yuuri tightened his legs, and Victor’s eyebrows raised just a little bit.

“H-have you?” Victor stammered quietly, a mix of excitement and perhaps something else entirely.

Smiling, Yuuri leaned forward and kissed Victor again, running soothing circles at the back of his neck.

“No. But I'm curious. And willing to give it a try,” Yuuri replied, emulating the Eros glance he had practiced meticulously, under Victor’s guidance and encouragement.

In answer, Victor grinned, bright and irresistible. He spun them in a small circle, before practically dropping Yuuri onto the top of the washing machine.

About to protest about potential damage, Yuuri wasn't given the chance. Victor was upon him instantly, hands running down Yuuri's waist and sneaking up under his shirt. Victor's fingers were warm, dancing across and digging into soft skin. He slipped between Yuuri's legs, open-mouthed kisses darting over exposed flesh, and Yuuri reached for his shoulders aimlessly, for something to grip onto.

Yuuri thought he might have to go out and buy Victor a hundred more brightly colored thongs. Pushing through any potential embarrassment would be more than worth it for the reminder and the pay off.

Victor's hands stroked down his chest, then lifted the hem of Yuuri's shirt, removing it with one fluid and very practiced motion. Yuuri did not get the chance to return the favor, as Victor gripped his hips and pulled him further forward to the edge of the machine. Whimpering at the force and because the adjusted position—legs spread to accommodate Victor and ass precariously close to slipping off—meant the rumbling of the working laundry machine sent vibrations straight through him.

In that second, Yuuri wasn't sure whether to grind down against it or up against Victor, left gasping. He gripped Victor's shoulders, leaving crescent indentations as his nails dug into skin. Victor's mouth was back on his neck, finding all of Yuuri's weak points and exploiting them.

"Where'd you get this idea?" Victor purred, working tongue and teeth over the spot under Yuuri's ear that he knew could reduce his fiancé to mewls and shivers.

Yuuri could barely manage a proper response, already impossibly hard and highly distracted. "Ahh.... a film, once..."

“Mmm,” Victor purred, taking Yuuri's earlobe between his teeth. Yuuri whimpered as the washing spun beneath, vibrations trembling through him. He bent his back, trying to chase the feeling and pressing his enthusiastic cock against the bulge in Victor's trousers.

They both moaned at the contact, and then there was no more teasing or hesitation.

Yuuri scrambled his hands down Victor's shoulders, desperately trying to get a grip of the t-shirt that was now very much in his way. He tried tugging it up and found no help, as Victor slipped a hand down the front of Yuuri's sweatpants, taking Yuuri's cock in hand.

“You weren't lying…” Victor sounded almost dazed but Yuuri did not have the presence of mind to process his admiring murmur. Because Victor's hand was wrapping around him with practiced ease, fingers tight and at that moment the washing machine started on its next cycle.

Yuuri whimpered out loud, already climbing high to the edge of desperation. With Victor's warm body pressing him down onto the vibrating surface, and unrelenting fingers stroking Yuuri with slow, firm movements, Yuuri could not focus on anything but the sensation, hands falling away completely to grip the edge of the washing machine for some kind of purpose.

Yuuri forgot all about trying to remove Victor's clothes, head falling forward against Victor's shoulder, unable to remember if he had ever been reduced to breathy moans this quickly. But there was the combination of Victor's deliberate, maddening strokes and the vibrations humming flush against the sensitivity of his perineum, and Yuuri wasn't sure which one to seek out more of.

Victor drank in the sight of the darkening flush spilling from Yuuri's cheeks down his neck, painting all the way past the dips of his collarbone and mixing with the marks Victor had already littered over the skin. A few left over from the night before. The same shade of blush splashed across the tops of Yuuri's thighs, the too small sliver of skin revealed by Victor pushing Yuuri's sweatpants aside just enough.

"Since when do you wear nothing?" he purred when Yuuri's responses only came as mewls.

"Since—ahhh." Yuuri gasped against Victor's shoulder when the Russian's hand twisted around his cock, driving away all coherent thought. "L-laundry day."

Victor tightened his grip over Yuuri's cock, pressing his thumb down onto the head and spreading the wetness there. Yuuri bucked forward, unable to contain himself. Victor laughed softly and if Yuuri had any mind left, he might have shoved him. But right then, all Yuuri could focus on was the twisting pressure of Victor's thumb rubbing along his slit and the assault of the shaking machine below him.

“Wh-when did you start wearing yellow thongs?” Yuuri gritted out between his teeth, whine escaping breathlessly. “Ah, ah—Victor!”

“I'd wear the whole rainbow if this is the reward I get,” Victor said, moving from watching Yuuri come undone to kiss him again. Yuuri opened his mouth, not able to take enough of Victor into him.

It was like there was a spring coiling tighter and tighter deep and low in Yuuri's abdomen, desperate to be released but he could not manage it. The friction was so good, but only just. It was hot between them, Victor's body heavy above him, pinning him down.

Then Victor was moving away, breaking the kiss and letting Yuuri go. He whined loudly at the loss, protesting until Victor hooked his hands onto Yuuri's sweatpants and pulled them off with one firm tug, leaving Yuuri completely exposed. Yuuri exhaled sharply as Victor pulled his own shirt off, cock twitching between his legs at the sight of Victor's defined stomach, the firms line of it leading to the tent in Victor's trousers.

Yuuri pulled his own lower lip between his teeth, anticipation liquid inside him and leaving him drunk.

Hands ran softly up and down Yuuri's legs, carefully leaning Yuuri onto his back. Beneath him the machine kept tumbling, pressure slightly eased by the new position but it just wound Yuuri up more. If Victor was going to start teasing him, now, of all times—

“You're gorgeous. I wish I could keep a picture of you looking like this,” Victor muttered, bringing back Yuuri’s blush, despite everything.

Yuuri hooked a leg around Victor's waist again. The movement tugged Victor forward and dragged Yuuri down across the machine, placing his ass right at the edge of it. The shock of one particularly intense vibration sent Yuuri moaning, back arching and he closed his eyes, rocking between Victor's weight and the rumbling machine beneath him. The places where he had been stretched the night before trembled inside him with anticipation.

Any other time, Yuuri may have blushed deeply or shied away from the intensity with which Victor gazed down at him, like he was something to be devoured. Except he was already too far gone for that, reduced to whimpering and shifting needily between any and every touch that Victor bestowed upon him and the vibrations beneath.

"Victor, p-please," he begged without really knowing what he wanted. Anything would be good. He was exposed, precum leaking from his cock which sat heavily against his own stomach, twitching for the friction gone from it.

When he lifted his lashes, his vision filled with the firm lines of Victor's body, stunning beyond comparison and yet still half-hidden by clothing. Yuuri reached down, fumbling as he hurriedly tried to push and pull down the fabric, fingertips barely managing to reach from his position laid out over the machine helping to work him to oblivion.

Victor laughed, even more so when it earned him a fiercely annoyed and wanting scowl from Yuuri, and purposefully tilted his own hips back, away from Yuuri's hopelessly grasping fingers. "What are you so eager for, darling?" he asked with more steadiness than he felt, driven on by the sight of his gorgeous Yuuri withering and falling apart right before him. "I won't be able to understand unless you ask."

He pushed Yuuri's legs further apart and then craned down, to ghost his mouth down the expanse of Yuuri's taunt and heaving abdomen. "Something like this?" With the flat of his tongue, he licked a long and heavy line up the length of Yuuri's strained cock.

Yuuri was not far off from a scream, voice strangling in his throat as the wet stripe Victor left quickly cooled, only to be replaced by Victor's very warm lips around the head of his cock, tongue and lips working the foreskin down with one slick move. Yuuri watched, unable to look away as Victor slowly bobbed down, moaning as he felt Victor's tongue press between his slit. It was too much and not nearly enough, spring coiling tight again and Yuuri suddenly felt empty. Needy, desperate. Wanting.

As if he could read Yuuri's thoughts in the way his body trembled, Victor ran a hand down the inside of Yuuri's thigh, pressing down under the shaft of Yuuri's cock, fingers splayed over and under the soft skin there. Yuuri keened, back bending and ass tipping on the edge of the washing machine, cock sinking deeper into Victor's mouth.

Victor groaned, the sound full and wet. Yuuri could feel Victor's saliva bunch and slide down from his lips, spreading with each dip of Victor's beautiful silver head. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to keep the sight of Victor sucking him down, but then Victor's hand sunk lower, finger grazing between Yuuri's cheeks.

“Ahhh, god, Victor!” Yuuri cried, unable to contain himself as Victor pressed a finger teasingly against his entrance, nerves buzzing there from the reminder of the previous night. At that moment the machine sped up again, sending tremors through Yuuri's spine that went all the way to where Victor was touching him.

Victor didn't do anything more than tease, but Yuuri found himself sparking with just the promise. He bucked up into Victor's mouth, cock dragging through his lips with slick. The sensations were building a rolling heat deep inside Yuuri that churned his insides up in the most delicious of knots. He was wound tight enough to burst.

Victor did everything he could to keep it messy, the taste of Yuuri's skin and the excitement building spit on his tongue and he spread it down to the hilt. Loosening the pull of his mouth around Yuuri's cock, he let the saliva pool and then slide down to drip along the cleft of Yuuri's ass. Victor's fingers flickered to encourage it down, teasing the bit of slick in a circle around Yuuri's pleading entrance.

Yuuri could not remember how to do anything more than moan and whimper out broken syllables of Victor's name. The last bit of strength in his abdomen gave out as Victor's wet fingertips pressed against him, flirting with the notion, but not pushing inside like Yuuri desperately wanted them to.

His head hit the metal of the machine, too gone to care when Victor sucked him down with purpose. Yuuri's fingers released the sides of the tremoring laundry machine and flew to grip at silver. When Victor's mouth threatened to lift off, tongue rolling and flickering over the tip with the promise of a teasing comment, Yuuri silenced it before it came by tugging Victor back down the length of his cock, fucking up into his mouth at the same time.

Victor's surprised choking mixed with a groan, and the stimulation of those extra vibrations sent Yuuri plummeting straight toward the edge. He had the saliva-slicked pad of Victor's thumb working patterns over his entrance, ring and middle fingers pressing along his perineum, the machine's original purpose entirely replaced with far more stimulating use, and then Victor hollowed out his cheeks, daring to hum in imitation of the laundry machine under Yuuri.

A silent scream left Yuuri's mouth as he came, almost without warning, having been so close to it since the very beginning. Releasing his grip of Victor's hair, he covered his face with his forearm, chest heaving as he attempted to suck down lungfuls of air. Only to have it knocked out of it again when he looked down at his fiancé, watching Victor pull off and stick out his tongue, cum falling off it onto cupped fingers.

Yuuri's eyes widened at devilish smirk on Victor's lips.

“Don’t move,” Victor purred and then his fingers were back at Yuuri’s entrance, gently coaxing cum into the quickly opening space, still loose from the night before.

“Ohh, god,” Yuuri gasped, words failing him entirely at the feeling of Victor beginning to press his own release into him, fingers slick and hot as they pushed forward. Yuuri flung his arms out, bracing himself on each side of the machine.

One slipped in with ease, Yuuri’s body loose from orgasm and adrenaline, but it seemed Victor couldn't wait, as he pushed his second finger in along after the first, stretching Yuuri with a burn that felt like Yuuri’s entire body was singing from the dark, deep place Victor was starting to fuck him. It was not bad, not after everything they had already done in the last few hours, but it set Yuuri on fire. Scorching, red heat that licked its way up Yuuri’s spine, blistering along to the thrum of the washing machine.

Yuuri moaned, heading hitting the machine with a bang as he threw it back again. He could feel his cum grow thick and warm between Victor’s fingers, could feel it edging out of the stretching space of his entrance as Victor fucked him with his long, beautiful fingers. It felt almost ticklish, entirely sinful, the warm trickle of semen down his cheeks and Victor’s pumping fingers. Like he was something Victor owned. Something Victor could mark and shape. Claim.

The thought spun Yuuri’s gut into a knot, curled his toes, and he clenched around Victor’s fingers. He heard Victor’s hitching groan and forced himself to look down again. Victor was staring at the place where they were joined, at himself scissoring and stretching Yuuri, who felt the wet of it, the give of his body.

Then Victor bent his fingers, just right, and Yuuri cried out, body trembling from where Victor pushed at his prostate. His cock twitched, sensitive but desperate against his stomach. Victor’s breathing sounded damp and heavy, mixing with the persistent little noises escaping Yuuri.

Victor glanced up and Yuuri caught his gaze, blue and volatile. Yuuri’s heart grew fangs and it threatened to bite him in half at the sight. He wanted to stake his claim too.

The machine tumbled beneath him and Yuuri used the momentum to rock downwards, vibrations up his spine and Victor’s fingers deep. Sinfully deep. Yuuri made a loud, pathetic noise as Victor pressed against his prostate again, almost an assault. Yuuri tightened desperately around Victor, wanting more of him, all of him, as much as he could possibly get.

And like anything Yuuri wanted, Victor would give it to him.

Yuuri trembled beneath Victor's touch, sinking his teeth hard into the flesh of his lower lip, biting it red in a desperate attempt to restrain all of the pleading noises that Victor was milking from him like it was nothing. Yuuri could barely hear the rumbling on the machine over the sound of his own whines and mewls. He called Victor's name repeatedly until it wore on his tongue, the insistent press of fingers deep inside him becoming overwhelming and yet not nearly enough.

Victor just kept pushing, stretching Yuuri with the slick help of his release until Yuuri felt himself falling apart again, fraying along every nerve ending. With shaking hands, Yuuri pushed his body up off the flat surface of the machine, sitting up at the same time that Victor's fingers plunged back inside to send sparks exploding inside him.

Gasping, Yuuri lurched forward, temple falling against the crook of Victor's shoulder. He wanted to bite at pale skin, defile the flawless white with dark marks and imprints of his teeth but he barely had the consciousness to grab for the waistband of Victor's pants, clumsily pushing it down past sharp hips so the fabric could fall away enough for Yuuri to fumble for Victor's hard cock like he was grasping for a life line. He wanted it heavy in his palms, twitching against his tongue and assaulting the back of his throat, reaching new depths inside him, driving hard and fast until Yuuri broke in his arms.

Victor bucked into Yuuri's hand, breath hitching even as he laughed at just how needy Yuuri looked, cheeks stained a permanent red, chest heaving with each broken exhale, quiet begging noises falling from his lips without pause. "Is it really that good?" he whispered, although the tone of amusement seized in his throat when Yuuri looked up with eyes hazed over with pleasure.

"Ahh-... why don't you..." Yuuri jerked when Victor's fingers curled inside him again. "Get on... l-lemme ride you and show you."

“Yuuri…” Victor breathed, eyes suddenly very wide. Before Yuuri had a chance to even think about what that could mean, Victor was pulling his fingers out.

Yuuri whined at the loss, body seizing at the void Victor left behind. Cum was slick between his cheeks, ass twitching with need and Yuuri made another noise of protest again, knowing he was being impatient but also knowing exactly what that did to Victor.

Hands flailing a little, Yuuri tried to reach out and get some form of support, hands roaming up from Victor’s groin to his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, anywhere, just to get Victor closer. Preferably under him. As soon as possible.

With his intense focus on having Victor under him, inside of him as soon as possible, Yuuri could not catch much of a warning when Victor suddenly gathered him up in his own arms, lifting Yuuri with relative ease off the washing machine. On instinct, Yuuri wrapped his legs around Victor’s waist, whimpering at the feel of Victor’s cock under the slick of his ass.

“What are—ah!” Yuuri was interrupted by a firm kiss from Victor, who spun on his heels, Yuuri cradled in his arms. Yuuri moaned as Victor pushed his tongue between his lips, thick and wet in a mocking of how his hard cock slipped between the spread of Yuuri’s cheeks. The dirty kiss left Yuuri’s lips buzzing, his chin damp as Victor fucked him with his tongue, slow and forceful. It twisted something hot and almost painful deep in Yuuri’s abdomen, spent cock twitching with renewed interest.

The back of Victor’s legs hit the washing machine, sudden vibrations sending him bucking forward. Yuuri made a pitiful noise in the back of his throat that Victor swallowed whole, hands tightening on the underside of Yuuri’s thighs as Victor let the rocking of the machine move them, Yuuri bouncing ever so slightly in Victor’s arms, cock brushing against where Yuuri wanted it most desperately.

“Victor, Victor,” Yuuri whimpered between kisses, the name drowned in the wet movements of their tongues, the deep groans that shook between them. “Please. No more teasing.”

“But you’re so cute,” Victor replied, tossing his head to throw the fringe out of his face and honestly, he still looked far too put-together for Yuuri’s liking.

Yuuri squeezed his thighs around Victor’s waist, heart tripping over itself at the sight of Victor closing his eyes and biting his lip. Yuuri managed to disengage himself in a relatively graceful sweep, breaking Victor’s hold on him and landing with both feet on the hardwood floor. Overestimating himself slightly, his knees buckled as he landed, where he was sensitive convulsing with the movement. He let it spur him on.

Not permitting Victor the chance to mock him any further, Yuuri set a hand on Victor’s chest, firmly guiding his fiancé back onto the machine until Victor got the idea. He lifted himself backwards up onto the machine, body shaking with the force of its spin cycle. Yuuri just gave Victor the chance to kick off his sweats, before Yuuri planted a hand on each of Victor’s thighs and leaned forward, taking Victor into his mouth in one, wet swallow.

“Fuck, Yuuri,” Victor swore, both hands coming up to bury themselves in Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri loved Victor like this, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of skin, sweat and the distant perfume of detergent. Victor was hot and heavy in his mouth, foreskin soft and puckering as he sucked Victor with fervor. Hollowing his cheeks around the head, Yuuri then plunged down with careful practice, taking Victor to the back of his throat.

Yuuri did not give himself as much time as he wanted. His own release would only remain slick enough for a few minutes longer without the constant ministrations, so he worked Victor slicker, fast and deep. Yuuri let saliva pool, lips moving with ease over Victor. Drinking in the moans coming from above him, Yuuri managed to pull himself off Victor’s cock with great reluctance after a few moments.

“On your back.”

Victor sat further onto the washing machine, giving Yuuri more to room to clamber on top of him. Too tall to lie on the machine the way Yuuri had, Victor half leaned against the back wall. It hardly mattered, Yuuri had enough leverage to get what he was looking for. Yuuri clambered on top of him, impatience bleeding through every move.

Like always, Victor found Yuuri’s gaze and held it. Even as Yuuri took Victor’s cock in hand, straddling Victor so to align himself properly, his blue eyes only fluttered for a moment. With a quick squeeze, to get Victor back the smallest bit for his earlier teasing, Yuuri arranged himself and began to sink down.

Despite everything, it was still just a little too dry. But not terribly so and any thought of discomfort well and truly left Yuuri’s mind as the head of Victor’s cock pushed past, spreading him open in the way only Victor could.

Victor’s hands found their way to Yuuri’s thighs, his hips, his waist, to that small dip that so often had love bites poured into it. Yuuri closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he sank down lower, swallowing slow inch after inch.

Once Victor was completely inside him, Yuuri gave himself a moment to breathe.

He felt full, constricted. Like his whole body was being pulled around Victor, like metal to a magnet. It was polar and a deep pressure, right at the low of his back, and suddenly, not enough. Yuuri bounced on Victor’s lap, his own cock swollen again with the mounting arousal that having Victor inside of him triggered.

Luckily, the spin cycle agreed, as it suddenly roared to life, sending rough vibrations through the pair of them.

Victor moaned loudly, barely audible over the whir of the washing machine. Yuuri would not have heard him anyway, as Victor’s body was rocking up into him in a rolling, shimmering pace that sent waves of sparking pleasure through Yuuri, tingling warmth all the way down to the tips of his fingers. Yuuri placed his hands on Victor’s chest, using it as leverage to lift himself slightly, only to grind back down and bury Victor deeper.

Yuuri’s mouth fell open as the machine had Victor shaking beneath him, trembling coming up through him, through his cock and hitting Yuuri exactly where he needed it. When the throbbing head of Victor’s cock hit Yuuri’s prostate, Yuuri whimpered in a high-pitch before devolving down to a growl, firmly taking control of the pace. He clenched down, delighted in the noises Victor made as he did, whole body shaking around the bucking cock inside of him.

Hooking his hands over Victor’s shoulders, Yuuri bounced onto Victor’s cock, trying to match his movements to that of the machine beneath him. Body on fire from the dragging burn of Victor’s cock inside of him, the vibrations that echoed up between them, pleasure overflowed in hot, prickling tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Yuuri, yes, ah—yes, fuck,” Victor babbled beneath him, Yuuri making himself to look down at his fiancé. Victor was all bleeding color, from the flicker of his silver hair to the bright red of his cheeks. Victor’s blush spilled down his neck and darkened the marks littering it, painting him vividly. His eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering against high cheekbones. Yuuri loved every single spot of the color Victor had.

“Ah, Victor!” Yuuri cried as Victor snapped his hips up to meet the downward grind of Yuuri. The washing machine rocked beneath them, noise surely to warrant a complaint as their movements on top of it were resulting in a banging of it against the back wall.

“Yuuri, I’m close. You—ahh, fuck, you too?” Victor moaned, his eyes opening and the blue of them alien in the light of the laundry room. Yuuri nodded, no longer able to speak beyond a strangled groan as Victor’s movements turned brutal, hands gripping tight as he drove his hips up, cock pistoning in and out of Yuuri, the sounds of skin slapping in a staccato beat matching the rumble of the machine.

Yuuri closed his eyes as he felt Victor’s cock pulse inside of him, felt it shift the walls of his body and send a rippling wave of buoyant pleasure through him, nerves twitching and ass clenching on the thick length inside of him. Then Victor wrapped a hand around Yuuri’s cock, thumb pressing down on the precum that had gathered on the head, slickening his touch.

“Victor, god. Please,” Yuuri begged, digging his fingers into Victor’s shoulders as Victor started to jerk him off with quick, rough motions. It was far too much, overwhelming, crashing his second orgasm so close to the edge it burned white behind his eyes.

Then Victor squeezed the head of Yuuri’s cock, precum slipping between his fingers just as he drove his cock straight into Yuuri’s prostate and Yuuri cried, body feeling like it was going to snap in half with the shock of his orgasm as it tore through him. White splattered up his abdomen, Victor’s hands spreading over Yuuri’s cock as his orgasm trembled through him, body quivering as Victor’s ruts stuttered.

“Victor, please, p-please,” Yuuri pleaded, over sensitivity beginning to kick with tingling, intense heat from where Victor continued slipping in and out of him, machine thrumming still. Victor mumbled Yuuri’s name and something in Russian Yuuri certainly had no hope of understanding, before he started moving again, fucking up into Yuuri with deliberate, erratic thrusts.

Yuuri shouted, screamed, he wasn’t sure which, but it felt so good and he couldn’t contain himself as Victor slammed into him, thrusts deep and almost bruising before Victor was coming. Victor’s cock spasmed in Yuuri, shaking his whole body and spreading hot, thick warmth as Victor came inside of him. Yuuri groaned, full and dizzy, feeling like his very soul was rattling around in his bones.

Victor shuddered through the last of his orgasm, legs twitching slightly as the machine’s spin cycle began to slow down. Yuuri managed to hold himself up until Victor stopped moving, but then he collapsed down onto Victor’s bare best, burying his head into the crook of Victor’s neck. Semen stuck between their stomachs and Victor’s softening cock pulled inside of Yuuri, causing both of them to moan at the feeling, but soon Yuuri was suitably comfortable.

Ripples of bliss hummed through Yuuri, humming with how good it felt. So, so good. Good could hardly cover it. English could not do it justice. Neither could Russian or Japanese, languages failing him entirely. He felt liquid, like Victor had melted him from the inside out and all that was left was the slow, luscious afterglow. With a sun like Victor, even that was enough to warm him down to his toes.

“Yuuri,” Victor cooed softly, after a while. He had been running his hands absently over Yuuri’s back, tracing soft circles over vertebrae. “We have to move.”

Muttering some mix of acknowledgement and protest, Yuuri skimmed parted lips lazily over the curve of Victor’s collarbone. “Move me then.”

A soft chuckle rolled against Yuuri’s damp hair and he barely realized their movements until Victor slid them both off the machine, cradling Yuuri in his arms. More than happy to nuzzle and dust kisses against Victor’s skin, Yuuri only processed that Victor had carried him into the bathroom when he was set down in their shower.

Yuuri buzzed through the gentle stroking of Victor’s hands and warm water over his skin, washing his clean, then through the plush caress of Victor wrapping him in a towel. “Yuuri?”

“Mmm,” Yuuri acknowledged the call by tipping up to press his lips to Victor’s, ready to collapse into Victor’s arms at any moment, legs unsteady and the muscles in his thighs twitching each second they had to support his own weight. “Take me to bed.”

Victor may have laughed into the kiss, but Yuuri forgot about it the moment he was lifted up again, spoiled by sex and affection and unable to find a hint of shame in it.

“Anything else I can do for you, love?” Victor’s teasing tone returned as Yuuri nestled himself in the plush blankets and pillows.

“Finish the load and come join me.” Yuuri blinked, blissed out, at his fiancé.

He saw the joke coming and groaned before it even left Victor’s lips.

“I already finished my load.”

Had his limbs not still been weak, Yuuri might not have missed with the pillow he threw at Victor, who left their bedroom, laughing and obviously pleased with himself.

Yuuri was edging sleep when Victor returned a few minutes later, smile spread suspiciously wide across his lips. “What?”

“I was going to say that I obviously need to start wearing a lot more yellow.”

This time, Yuuri did not miss, hitting Victor square in the chest with a second pillow despite the heat and pink leaping back onto his face. “Do your own laundry from now on.”

“Can’t. It’s stopped mid-cycle.” Victor’s smile turned into a full-blown, satisfied smirk. “I think we broke the machine, love.”