Viktor leans against the counter, sighing and resting his elbows on top of it. Another slow day at The Rink. He hadn’t expected much action in the middle of the week, and it’s not like he’s itching to get any work done. He’s just so incredibly bored.
The only customers that have walked in within the past hour or so are an elderly couple, lurking deep in the DVD racks. Viktor hopes they find what they’re looking for soon, because he’s not in the mood to go over there and ask if they need assistance.
He feels something smack his ass, and he straightens up, yelping.
“Look alive, old man!”
Viktor glares over his shoulder at his coworker. He’s flashing his most charming shit-eating grin at him, but Viktor’s not buying it.
“Chris, if you hit me with that jelly dildo one more time, it’s going right up your ass.”
“Oh, is that a promise?” Chris flutters his eyelashes at him. It could be, Viktor muses. But he’s been growing kind of tired of their threesomes with Chris’ fiancé. Viktor’s been feeling a strange emptiness lately that no one has been able to fill. So to speak.
He tries to ignore Chris as he wields his double-ended jelly dildo like a lightsaber--he had seen enough porn of that, and it’s no longer amusing.
Yes, it’s a slow day at The Rink. They’re the biggest sex shop around this part of the city, but that doesn’t seem to mean shit on a Wednesday.
Viktor’s nearly falling asleep standing, though his head jerks whenever the bell above the door tinkles. Traffic starts to pick up as the sunlight fades and the night lurkers emerge.
Viktor likes to people-watch sometimes, because the kind of shit he sees on a daily basis can be pretty interesting. A much older woman enters with a very much younger man, who seems to scramble to buy her as many things as possible. A group of giggling teenagers attempts to enter, but Chris immediately cards them and shoos them back out. A timid couple approaches the counter, blushing madly as they buy what the employees like to refer to as ‘Baby’s First Sex Toys.’
Viktor is in the middle of ringing up a rather old man who is staring unblinkingly through to his very soul when the bell tinkles again. He hears Chris’ sharp intake of breath next to him, followed by barely-concealed snickering. He shoots him a sidelong look, and Chris flashes him another asshole-ish grin before graciously offering to take the old man’s purchase around the counter to the front for him. This is standard procedure. Purchased items are held at the counter and brought around the other end to where the exit is. Viktor narrows his eyes suspiciously at him as he goes, then turns back around to people-watch again.
Except he ends up person-watching instead, because the man he sees slowly making his way through the store immediately grabs his attention. Viktor feels hot and cold all at once.
He’s shorter than Viktor by a few inches, and his body is pure lean muscle, though his face seems a bit soft. His hair is most definitely soft, and Viktor can nearly feel it between his fingers, black and feathery. He’s dressed pretty casually, but his jeans are so tight that Viktor can spot his ass from a mile away. He also spots his ink--his right arm a gold and black sleeve, and Viktor thinks he can see something on his chest as well as something on his sides peeking out of the low armhole of his loose tank top.
And he’s wearing glasses. Of fucking course he is.
Viktor clenches his fists and tries not to grind his teeth. This man is exactly his type, and Chris had known. He tries to round on him as he returns to the counter, but Chris blows him a kiss and retreats to the backroom to go on break.
Viktor finds himself silently panicking, both trying and not trying to track the man’s progress throughout the store. As he draws nearer, Viktor sees that his short black hair is actually longer than he had thought, and is partially swept up into a small ponytail. No, that’s just too cute. And he’s got a lip ring, too. Incredibly unfair. Who the hell is this guy?
As he rings out a nice young lady who’s purchasing what looks to be the world’s biggest strap-on dildo, he watches the other man out of the corner of his eye. He sees him take down one of the paddles hanging against the wall and lightly test it against his palm. Viktor’s knees nearly give way. He walks the young lady’s purchase to the front, and when he returns, he feels like the all the air has been punched out of him.
The man is standing in front of the counter patiently, laying down the paddle and a bottle of lube. Silk lube. Viktor’s favorite. He fights down a hard shudder as he approaches, putting on his most charming smile.
“Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting. Did you find everything alright today?”
“Yeah, I did, thanks,” he says, and his voice is sort of soft, almost mellow. Viktor can probably listen to it all day. And all night.
It doesn’t take very long to ring up his items, and as the man swipes his card, Viktor suddenly scrambles for a conversation starter to keep him here longer. He can finally see his tattoos clearly. There’s a giant sort of fish and tiger hybrid curving down his arm, bright gold with heavy black lining, almost like brush strokes, and accompanied by some Kanji that Viktor has no idea how to read. There’s more Kanji on his chest, right above his heart, stark black against a light and dripping watercolor background. Viktor’s definitely impressed.
“I like your tats. Where’d you get them done?”
“My sister owns a shop,” the man says with an easy smile that makes something in Viktor’s stomach flutter, “and she’s the best artist I know.”
“Oh, yeah? Is she taking appointments?” Viktor definitely prefers tattoos on others rather than on himself, but he’d get his entire damn body inked up just to have something in common with him.
“Yeah,” the other man says, his smile growing a little playful, “if you wanna book a flight to Japan.”
Viktor tries to laugh casually, though he feels himself blushing. He wants to ask him more about his tattoos, but the man’s already putting his card away. Viktor takes him around the counter, handing him his bag. Their fingers brush just the slightest bit, and Viktor blushes even harder, looking away from him. He watches him go almost miserably, and when he turns back around he’s in no mood to see Chris’ shittiest of shit-eating grins.
“Yeah? Tight ass, huh?”
“I hate you.”
Viktor doesn’t see the man again until a week later.
Chris had sent Viktor a text on one of his days off, telling him that he had missed his ‘boyfriend’ when he had come into the store to make another purchase. Viktor had told him to fuck off, and then had immediately demanded to know what the man had bought. Chris had told him to fuck off.
His shift today is with Yuri, and he’s not sure he’s looking forward to it. Yuri’s a little punk, and he thinks he runs the place just because he’s legal enough to juggle anal plugs in the middle of the shop. But his grandfather’s the owner, so Viktor has to play nice.
Yuri scowls at him immediately, and Viktor tips him a wink.
“Hello, my lovely assistant! How are you today?”
“I’m doing fine, thank you for asking!”
They spend the rest of the day shooting insults back and forth, though at this point they’ve known each other long enough to not take them very seriously. Though, if there’s one thing the two of them had bonded over, it’s shit-talking in Russian. Viktor isn’t the type to be rude to customers, even behind their backs, but he’s certainly had some major assholes who deserved it.
The two of them are snorting and whispering about a middle-aged man lurking around the store and eyeing Yuri like a piece of meat, when the bell tinkles and someone walks in. Viktor’s laughter dies immediately.
It’s him. The mystery man.
Yuri notices his silence right away.
“What, are you gay for that guy?” he sneers, not bothering to keep his voice down.
“I’m gay for any guy. It’s called being gay. Now lower your voice, or else.”
The man moves casually around the store, seeming to head towards the lingerie section. Viktor wishes he were closer, so he can make a few very helpful suggestions. He feels a sharp nudge to the side.
“Don’t just stand there, asshole, ring this guy up.”
Viktor rushes to assist the customer that had been waiting, but he notices Yuri staring down the mystery man, and it’s making him feel incredibly uneasy. He finishes up, then comes stalking up behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking at him,” Yuri says, as if it’s obvious. And it is. But, still.
“Yeah, well, don’t look at him like that. He’ll notice.”
“No shit,” Yuri grins at him wickedly, “isn’t that what you want? For him to notice you?”
“You’re not helping,” Viktor hisses, then freezes, because the man is making his way to the register, holding a package that undoubtedly contains some obscene and ridiculously put together fetish attire.
Yuri’s on him before he can even place it on the counter.
“Hi. What’s your name?”
The man looks a bit surprised at his forwardness, and his eyes dart to Viktor for a second, and that second is long enough to make Viktor want to drop to his knees. His eyes are such a warm brown, and Viktor imagines they’d glint gold in the sunlight, just as bright as his golden tattoo.
“Yuuri,” the man answers, his eyes flicking back to Yuri. Yuri’s eyes widen.
“What the hell? My name is Yuri!”
Yuuri smiles at him almost shyly, and Viktor can’t do anything other than stare. But to his absolute horror, Yuri turns to him.
“I approve of this guy. We have the same name.”
Yuuri’s eyebrows raise slightly, and he looks at Viktor again. Viktor wishes he could sink into the floor for the rest of his life. He nudges past his coworker to ring Yuuri up, trying to keep his hands from trembling.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s a brat.” He ignores Yuri’s indignant hissing, his brain grasping for something else to say. His eyes inevitably stray to the item he’s ringing up, and he can’t help but pause, feeling his face grow red.
The model on the front of the package is wearing a black body suit that seems to actually cover very little. Half of it is netting, crossing over the black in slashed strips. It looks tight. Very tight. And the crotch is open. Viktor fights back an oncoming shudder. He has to think of something to say. Something that isn’t stupid.
“Who’s this for?” Great fucking job.
He can’t believe he’s actually just said that, and from the choked snort behind him, neither can Yuri.
Yuuri’s eyebrows rise again. There’s something in his eyes and something tugging at the corner of his lips that makes Viktor’s skin start to tingle.
“It’s for me.”
“Ha. Right. Of course.” Viktor is praying for a quick and painless death right about now. When he hands him his bag, their fingers brush again, and Yuuri looks him in the eyes, that same something gleaming in his.
“See you later.”
Oh, Viktor wishes.
Viktor manages to miss Yuuri two more times over the course of the next few weeks. His heart pounds in his throat with every shift, and whenever he receives that smug ass text from Chris or Yuri or Mila or Georgi, he feels like being alive is pointless. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if the owner himself messages him telling him that his ‘boyfriend’ had come by to visit.
He’s with Mila today, and as he switches out with Chris, he gives him a sullen look. Chris stops him before he can speak.
“No, I haven’t seen him. Don’t ask.”
Viktor flips him off, then nearly dives to dodge a particularly vicious dildo swing.
He wastes no time confiding in Mila once it’s just the two of them. Out of all of them, she’s the most sympathetic. Well, no, Georgi is, but Georgi also cries a lot. And so Viktor prefers to speak to Mila when it comes to feelings.
“So you still haven’t asked for his number? Come on, Vitya.”
“It’s not that simple!” Viktor has tried to explain this many times, though at this point he knows he’s just trying to convince himself.
Mila makes a sort of annoyed huffing sound, blowing her bangs out of her face. With her nose ring, Viktor’s reminded of an angry bull. She’d punch him in the arm for saying that, so he doesn’t.
“Don’t make excuses. If you like him, you should tell him. Hm,” she adds thoughtfully, “how about you give him your number? Write it on a receipt or something. Slide right in,” she says as she winks at him. Viktor groans. This idea sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but he’s starting to grow desperate.
He jumps every time he hears the bells above the door ring. After the seventh or so time, he’s almost about to give up, but then he walks in.
Yuuri strolls into the shop, wearing, of all fucking things, a tight-fitting crop top. Viktor nearly loses his mind over the sight of his midriff. He’s toned and lean, though his stomach still seems like it would feel soft under Viktor’s fingers. He can see more of the side tattoo he had glimpsed before, and as he turns, he can see it wrap around his back. The end of it goes down low, very low, leading Viktor’s eyes down to exactly where they want to be. God.
And he’s wearing a cute gray beanie with two pointed ends on either side that resemble cat ears. Viktor refuses to believe that he’s real. It isn’t possible.
Mila lets out a low whistle, snapping Viktor out of his daze.
“Wow, doesn’t he look cute today?”
“He looks cute every day,” Viktor says miserably.
Mila keeps giving him pointed looks the entire time he’s watching Yuuri. She even clears her throat at some point, and Viktor glares at her.
“Look, there’s nothing I can do until he comes over. What do you want me to do, go over and help him pick out a cock ring?”
Mila’s eyebrows shoot up, but Viktor cuts her off before she can make a smartass remark.
“I thought you were the nice one out of all of us.”
Mila throws back her head and laughs, and Viktor is almost tempted to join in, but he catches sight of Yuuri and pales, because he’s looking their way, clearly startled by the loud outburst. Their eyes meet, and Yuuri smiles at him. Viktor suddenly can’t breathe, and he looks away hurriedly.
When Yuuri finally approaches the counter, he places down a cock ring, and Mila has to turn away to hide her giggling. Viktor gapes at it. It’s huge. His ass clenches just looking at it. He can feel himself becoming slightly hysterical.
“Is this all for today?” he asks, trying not to panic.
“Yeah, just for today,” Yuuri says with a polite smile.
Mila slides over smoothly as Viktor rings him up, her elbows on the counter, chin in hands.
“Hey there, cutie! I love your tattoos!”
Yuuri flushes as he swipes his card, and his smile is still shy, but Viktor can see him light up when he turns to face her.
“I love yours, too! Are those sunflowers?”
Mila rolls back her sleeve, displaying her upper arm of sunflowers. Yuuri makes an impressed sound, leaning close. He pauses nervously.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to get too close. I’m used to inspecting ink. My sister owns a shop.”
“Oh,” Mila waves a hand dismissively, “don’t worry! I’ll even let you touch it!”
She winks at him, and Yuuri flushes harder as he traces it lightly. Viktor glares. Is Mila moving in on his man?
“You’ve taken really good care of it,” Yuuri says happily, “and your artist must be amazing, because this is some of the cleanest line work I’ve ever seen.”
Mila is absolutely glowing. She looks him up and down, suddenly sly.
“Hey, now, I showed you mine. Now you have to show me yours.”
Yuuri blushes again, displaying his arm. Mila reaches out to trace it, just as Yuuri had done to hers.
“This is Shachihoko,” Yuuri explains. “He has the head of a tiger and the body of a carp. He sits on the rooftops of castles and brings the rain. And this,” he points at the Kanji above it, “says ‘Hasetsu.’ It’s my hometown in Japan, and the castle there has the most bright and shining one.”
Viktor thinks that Yuuri’s smile is probably the most bright and shining thing in his hometown, but he keeps that to himself as he quietly watches the two of them. His eye twitches slightly when Mila reaches out to tap Yuuri’s chest.
“And that one? The watercolor is beautiful.”
“This one is the first my sister ever did for me,” Yuuri says softly. “Watercolor tattoos are her favorite technique, so I wanted that to be the first I ever got. That’s my name in Kanji, but it can also be read as ‘courage.’“
Viktor can’t help but smile at this. Something about this man is so sweet and pure. It makes his stomach flip.
“I see,” Mila murmurs, “and the back? What’s up with that?”
She indicates the design on his back that wraps around to his sides. Yuuri turns around so they can see. Mila tugs at his crop top playfully.
“Can we see all of it?”
“Ah, s-sure,” Yuuri’s ears go red as Mila lifts the back of his top up. Viktor is silently having a meltdown. Yuuri’s back is nearly exposed now, and he can finally see the full tattoo. It’s a curling violet flower design that looks sort of like a fleur-de-lis. It goes from his shoulder blades down his spine, ending very low at the small of his back. The flower has a green point at the top and bottom, and the bottom one leads Viktor’s eyes even lower, nearly disappearing below the waistband of Yuuri's jeans. Emerald branches of a similar style flow from either side, wrapping around his waist and ending before his abs. They look a lot like a guide on where to grip him from behind. The thought makes Viktor dizzy.
“This design just kind of came to me in a dream. I knew I had to have it.”
“Wow,” Mila says, very impressed, and she suddenly pauses in the middle of tracing it, turning to Viktor and smiling sweetly. Viktor has about a third of a second to realize what she’s about to do.
“Oh, Viktor! You don’t know what a tattoo feels like, do you? Don’t you want to touch Yuuri’s? It’s very nice, isn’t it?”
Viktor wants to flee the country, possibly even the planet, but Yuuri looks at him over his shoulder, and when their eyes meet, Viktor can’t do anything but obey.
He reaches out with trembling fingers, and when they find their mark, Yuuri’s skin nearly burns him. Viktor traces the skin lightly, feeling the different textures, and the way Yuuri twitches slightly tells Viktor that these are somewhat sensitive areas. It’s a beautiful design, and Viktor fails to notice a single flaw. It runs along his spine smoothly, perfectly, and Viktor’s fingers trail down further. Yuuri’s skin tenses wherever Viktor touches him, and he watches the slight shiver run down his back as Viktor’s fingers trace lower. Viktor’s touch has nearly ghosted down to the small of his back before Yuuri shudders hard, and Viktor jumps away.
“S-Sorry! I-I didn’t, I’m-” Viktor is so certain that Yuuri’s about to call him a creep and storm off, never to return and grace this sex shop again. But Yuuri only smiles at him as he turns back around and pulls his shirt down.
“No, it’s alright. I’m just,” he pauses, chewing at his lip ring, “a little sensitive. Down there.”
Viktor nearly whites out.
There’s another pause, and Viktor realizes that Yuuri has already paid, but Viktor hasn’t bagged up his item and given it to him yet. He looks down at the cock ring and has the insane urge to ask Yuuri if he wants to wear it out. Mila snorts and whips out a bag for him, and Viktor tries to look everywhere but at Yuuri as she gathers his things and walks him around to the exit.
He stares absently into the distance, his mind racing. He had touched Yuuri. Not just their fingers brushing, but he had touched him. He’s never going to wash that hand again.
Mila comes back, looking incredibly pleased. Too pleased.
“You’re welcome,” she chirps.
“I gave him your number!”
Viktor spends the next twenty four hours staring at his phone. It’s his day off, and he’s done nothing but check his phone every minute. This is driving him insane. Did Mila get the number wrong? Had Yuuri lost it? Is Yuuri just not interested?
He sends Mila another text asking her if she’s sure she had given Yuuri the right number, and by the tenth time, she threatens to drive to his apartment to kick his ass.
Viktor flops onto his bed miserably. What had he done wrong? He had really thought that Yuuri liked him. The way their eyes had met so often, Viktor had felt a spark that he knows Yuuri had to have felt, too.
He’s too restless. He needs to get out. He texts Chris to ask him if he wants to grab something to eat with him during his break, then rolls out of bed to get dressed.
He shows up at the shop to pick him up and soon finds himself sitting across from his coworker at a nearby burger place. Chris stuffs his mouth eagerly while Viktor complains.
“I just don’t think he likes me. What do you think?”
Chris scowls at him around a mouthful of fries, and Viktor waits patiently. He really does need to slow down. He’s getting himself get worked up for stupid reasons.
“Well,” Chris says finally, “I think he does.” He says this in a way that suggests that he knows something Viktor doesn’t. Viktor leans towards him, eyes wide.
“Tea. Spill it. Now.”
Chris snorts at him, then shrugs.
“Saw him earlier today. He asked for you.”
Viktor’s jaw drops.
“He asked for me?”
“That’s what I just said,” Chris points out very helpfully. Viktor’s mind is in a whirlwind. How? Why?
“What did he say?”
“Nothing really, he just asked where you were, and if you'd be working today. I said no, and then he left. Got your text about ten minutes later.”
Viktor grabs at his hair, groaning. He had just missed him by a few minutes. That’s his kind of bullshit luck. He notices that Chris still has the smug look of somebody with a secret. He glares at him until he gives in.
“We had an interesting little chat, the two of us.” He pauses for dramatic effect, but continues quickly, because Viktor’s face clearly screams ‘murder.’
“I always wondered why this kid was coming in buying all these fucking toys all the time. So I straight up asked him.” Chris leans forward, eyes sparking mischievously. “He shoots clips. He’s even got himself an agent to find him gigs. It's all solo, but he does lots of fetish stuff. No surprise. Every freak loves a tatted twink.”
Viktor is dumbstruck, staring at him.
“It’s a smart little way to make some cash on the side. And he seems to enjoy it. I asked him where I could find the clips, because I’m just shameless like that. He just shrugged and told me that he didn’t know. Sometimes he doesn’t even remember the company. He comes in for a shoot, and what they do with it is up to them. He could be anywhere.”
Anywhere, Viktor’s mind echoes. He’s suddenly lost his appetite.
When he gets back home after dropping off Chris, he sits heavily on his bed, staring at the wall. His mind is racing.
He shouldn’t. But why not? Could he? Is it wrong? Creepy? But he has to know. He has to know.
He falls into the chair at his desk now, staring at his laptop. After some time, he hesitantly opens his browser and starts typing.
What the hell is he supposed to look for? And where? As a sex shop worker, he’s familiar with all the big name porn sites. He knows the most obvious one, but still hesitates at the search bar.
And what the fuck does he search for? ‘Alt Asian Twink Takes Dick Like A Champion?’
He tries more variations of this than he cares to admit. He freezes mid-scroll, seeing a familiar face in a thumbnail.
There he is.
Viktor trembles. He shouldn’t watch it. It doesn’t seem right.
But he’s there in that thumbnail, his glasses off and his hair slicked back, and he’s wearing something that seems familiar. Viktor takes a deep breath. He clicks.
Viktor lets out a shaking breath, because Yuuri is on crisp white sheets on a large bed, leaning back against a wall, his legs spread wide. His face is flushed and sweating, and he’s gasping and panting.
He’s wearing the lingerie Viktor had sold him weeks ago.
It’s just as tight against his skin as Viktor had imagined, and he can see the curves and edges of his body clearly through the netted parts. His body is heaving, thrusting, so tight and lean and beautiful, and Viktor’s jaw has nearly hit the floor already.
Yuuri’s fingers are wrapped tightly around his cock through the crotch opening of his outfit, and Viktor feels himself start to drool, because Yuuri is thick, and Viktor clenches every time Yuuri jerks himself. Yuuri’s other hand reaches down towards the back of the crotch opening, and his fingers are dripping with thick white silky lube. The lube Viktor had sold him, most likely. His fingers slip into his hole, and he cries out as he starts to finger himself fast, bucking his hips. His moaning is intoxicating, and Viktor feels his head spinning. He wants to listen to this for the rest of his life.
Viktor’s hard. Desperately hard. His hands tremble as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, and he lets out another shuddering breath as he draws out his cock. Yuuri is crying out louder, his sweet voice ringing throughout the room, and Viktor starts to jerk himself off, panting and groaning, pumping himself in time with Yuuri’s fingering, wishing it were his cock pushing into him so hard and so fast.
Viktor’s moaning nearly as loudly as Yuuri is, and as he feels himself growing hot, his phone goes off. He yelps, jerking back up, snatching his phone up reflexively, and chokes hard, because he doesn’t recognize the number texting him, which means there’s a good chance it’s who he hopes it is.
Hey. It’s Yuuri. Do you work tomorrow?
Viktor’s hand shakes wildly as he tries to tap out a message while the other hand is still tight around his cock. He can’t stop touching himself, because the video is still playing, and Yuuri’s moaning is piercing through him.
Yeah I work closing shift
He feels himself hot again, trembling, his breath hitching, and he drools as he watches Yuuri come all over the nice outfit he had sold him. He can feel himself tipping over the edge, and right as he comes, he reads the text that’s just been sent to him.
See you tomorrow.
Viktor comes in to switch shifts with Yuri, leaving him with Georgi. They both immediately fall into despair.
“That girl I’ve been chasing after? She stopped calling me. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”
“I’m sorry, Gosha,” Viktor says gravely, “but it looks like you’re going to have to sacrifice yourself.”
“What?” Georgi frowns at him. “Sacrifice?”
“You need to die,” Viktor explains, “because love doesn’t exist and we all die in the end.”
Georgi’s eyes widen, and he seems to seriously take this into consideration. Viktor leans so low against the counter that he nearly slams his forehead into it.
“Hey, what’s with you? Is it that guy? Did Mila hook you two up yet?”
Viktor groans loudly. When will his suffering end? He drags himself up wearily.
“You wouldn’t understand, Georgi. You don’t understand my level of suffering.”
Georgi looks affronted at this, as if he can’t believe someone’s trying to upstage him at his own game.
“I sent her flowers and she sent me a photo of her throwing them in the trash.”
“I had to look him in the eye as I sold him a cock ring.”
“Every time I try to text her, she texts me a picture of her new boyfriend.”
“He texted me in the middle of me jerking off to a video of him.”
There’s a silence.
“That’s kind of sad,” Georgi admits.
Viktor returns to wanting to die.
The shift plays out the same way it always does, but Viktor is on edge. Yuuri had said he would stop by today. But when? He’d been too terrified to respond to his last text with anything other than ‘k.’
He can feel himself starting to sweat and shake, and he tries to take deep and calming breaths. One of two things could happen. Yuuri walks in, or he doesn’t. One of these things will happen. Deal with it.
And one of those things happens a lot sooner than Viktor had anticipated, because Yuuri walks in, and the first thing he does is smile at Viktor shyly. Viktor knows his face is bright red, and he can’t keep eye contact with Yuuri without imagining him panting and moaning.
“Hey,” Yuuri greets him, walking right up to the counter, and Viktor freezes, his eyes wide. Yuuri’s never gone up to the counter to do anything but finish his purchase and leave.
Yuuri looks extra cute today, though Viktor doesn’t really know why. He’s wearing a loose crop top and jeans. Nothing new here. But he seems like he’s glowing. Viktor tries to think straight.
“I-um, hi?” Viktor says shakily, and Yuuri smiles again. Viktor literally has no idea what the fuck to do. Yuuri still looks very shy, and his eyes dart to and from him a little nervously.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’m... not good at calling. Or texting. I tried to come in and see you instead, but you weren’t here.”
Viktor gapes at him, then realizes he should probably respond.
“Oh! It’s alright. Really. I understand.”
Yuuri beams at him, and Viktor is in a daze, unable to think straight, because he's too gay. He attempts conversation again.
“So, what brings you here?”
Yuuri looks shy again.
“Nothing, really. I just... wanted to pass by and see you, I guess.”
Viktor feels faint. Yuuri wanted to see him? Really?
“Well,” Yuuri continues, looking around, “I might as well shop around. I have a few new things I need to get.”
Viktor tries to do anything other than think about the taut fetish lingerie Yuuri had gotten cum all over. But he does a shit job. He feels his face grow even redder. Yuuri pauses in the middle of turning to walk towards the lingerie section. He’s eyeing the small displays on the counter, looking through all the cheap items that a buyer may want to snatch up as a last-minute bad decision at the register.
He catches sight of the dick-shaped lollipops and bursts out laughing. Viktor laughs along faintly, still reeling from Yuuri’s mere presence in his vicinity. Yuuri picks one out, grinning slyly at him.
“Can I walk around the store with this if I buy it now?”
“You can do anything you want,” Viktor says, still sounding faint. “Take it, it’s free.”
Yuuri looks surprised, but smiles sweetly at him as he removes the wrapping. Viktor puts his hand out automatically to take it, throwing it away in the trash beside him without Yuuri even asking.
Yuuri cheerfully slips the lollipop into his mouth, sucking at it, and gives Viktor a little wave as he leaves to wander around the store. Viktor holds onto the counter for dear life, because his legs have turned into jelly. He can hear Georgi shaking with laughter behind him, but his brain is too numb to react.
Viktor keeps catching sight of Yuuri around the store, and it seems like every time his eyes find him, the man is doing something incredibly obscene with his mouth to the poor and helpless dick lollipop. At one point he sucks hard, and when he pulls it from his mouth, Viktor can nearly hear the neat ‘pop’ sound it makes. He wants to die.
Yuuri finally comes to the counter now, two packages of lingerie in hand, dick in mouth. Viktor trembles. Yuuri lays them down on the counter, and takes the lollipop from his mouth to speak, licking his lips. His saliva glistens on the lollipop, and Viktor stares at it like an idiot.
“Which one do you think I should get?”
“Huh?” Viktor responds, suavely.
“The lingerie,” Yuuri clarifies. “I can’t decide which one I want to get.”
Viktor tears his gaze away from him long enough to glance down, and his face flushes. Both of these outfits are twice as lewd as the previous one he had sold him. There's straps. Lots of straps. Endless straps, with convenient scraps of fabric here and there to hold them up. One of them seems a bit more like a body suit, and it has an open crotch. He points that one out, and Yuuri cocks his head thoughtfully.
“Alright. I’ll take that one.” He pauses. “Do you have any vibrator recommendations? Mine kind of crapped out.”
Viktor nearly blurts out ‘my dick,’ but thankfully stops himself. He gestures to a display behind him.
“Well, that brand is pricey, but they’ve got a very strong plug vibe.”
Yuuri turns to poke around the display, and he must have been impressed because he immediately places one on the counter.
Viktor prays that his face isn’t as red as it feels, because the image of Yuuri in his new lingerie with this plug inside him has invaded his mind and refuses to leave. Yuuri doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort, because he’s gone back to sucking at his lollipop. Viktor wonders when his suffering will end.
When he brings Yuuri towards the exit to hand him his bag, their fingers brush, and Yuuri’s linger on his. Their eyes meet, and Viktor feels like he’s drowning, because he suddenly can’t breathe.
“Viktor,” Yuuri says softly, and Viktor tries not to shiver, “do you want to maybe hang out sometime? I’d like to see you again. And not just here.”
Viktor literally cannot comprehend what is even real, and he stares at him.
“What?” he says faintly.
“I mean,” Yuuri says, looking a little nervous now, “only if that’s okay. I just... I want to get to know you better.
“Better,” Viktor echoes, his mind still screaming into the void.
Yuuri seems to sense that Viktor’s soul is no longer on this earthly plane, and he attempts again with more confidence.
“How about tonight? After your shift? We can meet at my place. I’ll text you my address?”
“Yes,” Viktor says, though he can’t remember how he manages to speak. He watches him leave, his mind blank and numb.
What just happened? Yuuri? Hang out? After his shift? Address? "Meet at my place?”
Georgi has to nudge Viktor back into consciousness several times during the rest of his shift.
Viktor later closes up the shop with trembling hands, breathing way too quickly. He had let Georgi go home ahead of him. He lingers at the door. He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath.
He’s going to see Yuuri. The two of them. Alone. In his apartment.
Viktor isn’t stupid. He knows what’s going to happen. The tension between the two of them is thick. Very thick.
He takes another deep breath. He checks his phone. Looks at the address.
Time to go.
Viktor’s nerves are so frazzled that he knocks on the door a millisecond before realizing that he had never sent a text saying that he was on his way. Or that he’s here now. Fuck.
His heart pounds as he waits. Should he knock again? Had Yuuri heard him? Should he flee the city?
The sound of the door unlocking seems to last forever, ringing in his ears. It’s pulled open, and Viktor wonders if he’s died and this is the afterlife.
Yuuri’s hair is ruffled and wet, his glasses off. Viktor can see droplets running down his face, down his neck, his collarbone, down his bare chest, dripping towards his pants. Viktor’s eyes follow shamelessly.
“Oh!” Yuuri sounds surprised, and when Viktor’s attention snaps back to his face, he can see him blushing. “Sorry, I was showering, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting!”
“N-no,” Viktor stutters, finally finding his voice, “I’m an idiot, I forgot to tell you that I was here.”
“It’s alright.” Yuuri stands aside to let him in. Viktor passes, and he’s so close that Viktor can feel his breath ghost across his neck. And he smells delicious. Viktor fights down the hard shiver he feels try to tear itself down his spine.
Yuuri’s apartment is pretty average, but well-kept. The lamps cast a warm and dim glow over everything, and Viktor can smell the faint scent of incense burning in the corner. It gives the place a sort of hazy and relaxing atmosphere, and Viktor can feel himself start to calm down a little.
“I’m gonna get dressed. Make yourself at home.”
Viktor’s just barely sat on the sofa when Yuuri comes back out of the bathroom.
“Hey, actually, you came at a good time. Could you help me with something?”
Viktor stares. Is it a problem that can be solved with his dick? He tries hard to push that insanely stupid thought away.
Yuuri plops down next to him, still shirtless, with a large tub in hand. He offers it to Viktor almost shyly. Viktor takes it, staring down at it in amazement. It smells the way Yuuri does right now.
“It’s coconut oil. I use it every day. It’s organic and good for the skin, so it keeps my tattoos nice and fresh. My sis would kill me if I didn’t,” he says with a grin. Viktor gapes at him.
“It’s a real pain to get the one on my back. Can you help me? I’d really appreciate it. If that’s okay with you?” He looks a little embarrassed, as if this isn’t an offer most men would kill for. Viktor tries not to seem too desperate as he nods, dumbstruck.
Yuuri turns around, and Viktor once again finds himself faced with his back. Yuuri bends forward slightly, and the curve of his spine is so perfect that Viktor melts as fast as the small scoop he’s scraped out of the tub. It’s soft and solid, and spreads oily and smooth as soon as it meets Yuuri’s skin. Viktor feels him shiver a bit.
Viktor does his best not to freak out as he rubs more onto his hands, pressing his fingers against a sensitive and beautiful canvas. It really is quite something. Tattoo or not, Viktor thinks he’d enjoy meeting Yuuri’s sister. Or maybe even his entire family. Viktor feels his face grow red. He tries to think of something to say as he massages him.
“So. You, uh... you said you saw this one in a dream?”
He can feel Yuuri’s laughter through his fingertips before he even hears it.
“Yeah. It was kind of weird. I saw myself dancing on ice, and this mark was on my back. I woke up and sketched it out and took it to my sister right away. I haven’t seen it again in my dreams, but it’s something that stayed with me forever.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Viktor says, because it is. He can’t remember the last time he had a dream that felt so meaningful. Except the dreams he has with Yuuri in them.
“This one’s newer, so I’m trying extra hard to make it last. I got it just last year, right before I moved here.”
“Oh?” Viktor is impressed. “You moved here last year? Your English is perfect.”
“Thanks,” Yuuri says dryly, “I moved here from Detroit.”
“Sorry! I didn’t-I mean, I just thought-”
“It’s alright,” Yuuri laughs, “I’m just messing with you. I flew out to see my family right before I moved. That’s when I had the dream.” He pauses. “Your English is pretty perfect, too, you know. How long ago did you move here from Russia?”
Viktor freezes. How does he know that?
“I, um, I was around ten. How could you tell?”
“You have a very slight accent. I think I do, too, so it’s easy to tell. Also, Chris told me.” Viktor can almost see his grin. “It’s kinda funny how almost everyone at The Rink is Russian. You guys got yourselves a little Bratva going on?” There’s a pause, and then Yuuri adds quickly, “I’m sorry! I hope that wasn’t offensive!”
“It’s alright,” Viktor says, grinning slyly, “I’ll call off the hitman.”
Yuuri’s laughter is absolutely golden. Viktor’s stomach twists hotly as his grin softens into a small smile. But then his hands reach Yuuri’s waist, and he pauses. The tattoo goes around his sides, towards his front. Viktor positions his hands nervously, then slowly rubs them forward, waiting to see if Yuuri will object.
He doesn’t. Viktor tries to stop his hands from shaking. He can feel Yuuri’s body curve under his touch, his back arcing slightly as Viktor presses forward towards his abdomen. He’s so firm and so soft, and he’s melting underneath Viktor’s fingers. Viktor takes a steadying breath, his brain clawing its way out of a darkening haze and back into the light of conversation.
“But, yeah, the owner is Russian. The ad he put out specifically called for people who speak it. So we sort of flocked together. I went to college with Mila, and Chris has been my best friend since middle school. I recommended him, even though he only knows a few phrases. But he’s taught me some French, so I think we’re even.”
“Oh, yeah? French is the language of love, isn’t it?”
On a mad impulse, Viktor leans forward to whisper in his ear.
“Non. C'est la langue du sexe.“
Yuuri gasps and shivers, and Viktor is torn between shocked embarrassment and immense satisfaction. He can’t believe he just did that.
“Wow,” Yuuri says, and Viktor is proud to hear him sound a little breathless, “you really know your stuff.”
“I learn a lot of things from Chris.”
“Yeah? What else have you learned from him?”
There’s a silence that grows longer as Viktor frantically tries to understand what he means by that. He can’t come up with anything.
“What do you mean?”
“He told you what I do, right?”
Viktor tries to think of something to say. But he can’t. Yuuri takes his silence as confirmation.
“It’s okay. I don’t really care if people know. I need money, so I make money. And I enjoy what I do. I... I get too anxious about telling people, usually, but if they find out, I don’t mind.”
Viktor nods slowly before realizing that Yuuri can’t see him.
“R-right. Sorry. I don’t judge you at all, of course. I wouldn’t be working where I do if I did.”
“Thank you,” Yuuri says softly.
“I saw one of your videos,” Viktor blurts out stupidly. FUCK.
Yuuri tenses a little, turning his head slightly. Viktor is mentally kicking his own ass.
Viktor has dug himself into deep shit, and there’s no way of escaping.
“Uh, I saw the one where you’re... um, wearing the outfit... you got from the store...” he trails off, screaming internally.
“That’s the one you sold me. I kind of hoped you’d find that one. I...” he pauses, and Viktor can see his ears growing red, “I thought of you.”
Viktor’s hands are rubbing down towards the sensitive small of Yuuri’s back, and when he hears this, he’s so stunned that his thumbs dig into the soft skin.
Yuuri jerks slightly, letting out a surprised moan. Viktor feels his vision start to tremble and fade. His hands stay where they are, gripping Yuuri tightly. Neither of them move. There’s a thick silence.
Viktor leans forward, starting to shake, and his lips brush Yuuri’s ear.
“Are you thinking of me now?”
Yuuri arcs his back just as Viktor grinds his hips forward, and they gasp together, and Viktor can feel himself hard already. Yuuri spins around, leaping onto his lap, his fingers clawing through his hair as their lips meet, and Viktor grips him tightly by the hips, devouring his kiss, gasping every time Yuuri moans into his mouth.
Viktor’s hands snake down the back of Yuuri’s pants, gripping his ass hard and jerking him down against his own hips, and Yuuri is just as hard as he is.
“Fuck,” Viktor groans against his lips, and those lips start to trail towards his ear, and when Viktor feels his tongue slide inside him, hot and dripping, his eyes roll back and he bucks harder against him. Yuuri’s sucking and biting his neck now, and Viktor needs his pants off immediately.
His grip on Yuuri’s ass tightens as he lurches up, throwing him onto his back on the sofa. Viktor yanks off his shirt, and takes a moment to let Yuuri’s eyes sweep up and down his chest. They trail down to the bulge in his jeans, and Yuuri licks his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and chewing on his lip ring. God.
Viktor is out of his pants as fast as humanly possible, and he yanks down Yuuri’s as well. He catches his lips with his own again as he grinds against him, and Yuuri cries out into his mouth as their briefs press together, the friction hot and heavy between their cocks.
Viktor’s teeth fly to his neck now, biting and marking, and Yuuri gasps and tugs at his hair, whimpering as Viktor bites harder. Viktor is almost delirious. He can’t believe this is happening. He pulls back to look down at the man pinned beneath him, and Yuuri looks up at him with eyes glazed with lust. No, this can’t be real. Yuuri is so delicious beneath him, panting so hard and smelling so sweet, slick with water and sweat and oil.
“Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, “I...” he trails off, slightly terrified. Yuuri smiles at him almost shyly.
“Viktor, I want you.” Yuuri flushes even harder, adding, “I want you to fuck me. Please?”
There’s a stunned silence as Viktor’s mind tries to process what Yuuri is asking of him. His eyes are wide, and his face can’t decide if it wants to pale or redden.
“Yuuri, I-I-I mean,” he struggles to breathe, “yes, God, fuck, come here-”
Yuuri jumps into his arms as he reaches forward to grab him, and their lips meet again hungrily before Yuuri finally pulls away.
“My bed. Please? And take the oil?”
Viktor snatches up the tub and lifts him off of the sofa. Yuuri wraps his legs around him as they stumble towards the bedroom. Viktor suddenly realizes that he has no idea where the bedroom actually is.
“To the right,” Yuuri breathes into his ear, “please, hurry.”
Viktor doesn’t need to be told twice. Or even once. They make it into the room, and Viktor flings him onto the bed, panting hard. He’s ready to pounce, but through his wild haze, he notices the plastic bag at the foot of the bed. He recognizes that bag. He snatches it up, emptying it onto the sheets.
The lingerie. And the plug. He shoves the former towards Yuuri.
“Put this on.”
It comes out as a low growl, and Viktor hopes he isn’t coming off as an asshole, but Yuuri seems to melt, stripping his briefs off almost coyly. Viktor can’t take his eyes off of his cock as Yuuri slowly rises to slip into the strappy and skimpy body suit. It’s so tight. It’s so tight, and he’s so thick, his cock red and pulsing through the opening in the crotch. Viktor’s willpower wavers violently as he watches, and as soon as Yuuri has everything on and in order, Viktor leaps at him.
He squeezes Yuuri hard enough for him to cry out, his nails digging into the soft skin exposed by the gaps in the outfit. When they kiss, Viktor sucks at his lip ring, and the metallic taste is amplified when Viktor bites his bottom lip hard and tastes blood. Yuuri whimpers loudly, twisting underneath him, and his tongue slips into Viktor’s mouth, sliding slickly against his. Viktor moans, his hips bucking down against Yuuri’s exposed cock, and he pauses now to yank down his own briefs, and when their skins meet, they both cry out.
“P-please, Viktor,” Yuuri gasps, and Viktor silences him with a kiss. His lips make their way down to his neck, his throat, and he sucks on his collar, biting into the bone, and Yuuri nearly screams. Viktor’s breath ghosts down his chest and stomach as he moves lower, and he pauses to suck and mark any exposed skin. When he breathes against Yuuri’s cock, he feels his thighs tremble, and he dives for them, biting hard into the sensitive flesh. Yuuri screams and jerks his hips up, gasping and nearly sobbing as Viktor leaves his marks.
His mouth is on his cock before either of them even register it, and he takes him deep into his throat, nearly gagging on its size, and Yuuri’s moans fill the room as Viktor moves, sucking and licking and drawing him in and out. He feels fingers in his hair and nails against his scalp, and his lips tighten as Yuuri bucks. Viktor yelps around the cock in his mouth as Yuuri rolls, taking him with him as he tops him now, and Viktor has a moment to marvel at his surprising burst of strength before Yuuri jerks hard into his mouth. His hips continue to jerk as he fucks Viktor’s throat, bent and gasping and moaning and clutching at his hair.
Viktor hand flails wildly on the bed, grasping blindly until he finds the tub of oil. He pops off the lid and takes up a melting scoop, and when his slick fingers glide around Yuuri’s rim, he hears him gasp loudly. He slips in a finger, moving it fast and hard, and for a moment he can see Yuuri on the bed, his ass towards the camera as he fingers himself, his cries ringing out, and those same cries fill his ears, and he can’t take this anymore.
He shoves Yuuri off of him, pushing him down onto the bed face-first. The curve of his ass is perfect where the outfit leaves it exposed, and the oil drips down between his legs. Viktor scoops up more, spreading it over his cheeks, seeing them shine sleekly. But before his fingers enter him again, he has the strongest urge to slap his ass.
So he does. Yuuri cries out, grasping the sheets hard. Viktor slaps his ass again, harder. Yuuri cries out louder. Harder. Louder. Yes.
Viktor suddenly remembers something. He remembers the first time he ever saw Yuuri. He remembers the sight of the paddle he had bought coming down against his hand. It had made Viktor weak. He casts about the room quickly, and spots it on top of a dresser. He grabs for it, and before Yuuri can prop himself up to look back and see what he’s doing, he brings it down hard.
Yuuri’s cry is one of pain and pleasure, and his hips wiggle a bit, like he’s begging for more. Viktor brings down the paddle again harder, and Yuuri’s scream sounds more like a moan. Viktor wants to hear it over and over.
“Hit me harder,” Yuuri gasps, and Viktor obeys several times, basking in the sound of his screaming.
He leans forward to grab him by the hair, jerking his head back and bringing his ear to his lips.
“I want you to scream for me, Yuuri. Louder. Can you do that for me?”
Yuuri shudders, but Viktor hears him laugh, light and playful.
“Yeah? Are you a dom, now? Want me to call you Daddy?”
Viktor snarls and bites his neck hard, hearing him cry out. Viktor doesn’t want to admit how badly that had turned him on, but Yuuri seems to sense it.
“Daddy,” he moans, twisting and quivering underneath him, “please, hit me harder!”
Viktor’s vision is nearly red now as he rises, and the paddle is swift and steady as it strikes, the sound of the slap and the scream singing out together. It drives him, the sound of it, and he wants to hear more. Over and over and over.
“Yes!” Yuuri cries out, finally sobbing and squirming. He seems to be on the edge, too, shaking with anticipation and need. “F-fuck me, Daddy!”
Viktor drops the paddle to lunge forward again, and he yanks Yuuri’s head back again to purr into his ear.
“Only if you’re good. Will you be good for Daddy, baby boy?”
“God!” Yuuri cries out. “Yes, PLEASE!”
Viktor scrambles for the oil again, coating his fingers thickly. He pushes them inside of him, sliding in and out fast and deep, and Yuuri gasps and groans beneath him.
Viktor coats himself now, and Yuuri lifts his hips for him obediently. He pushes into him, groaning, and Yuuri whimpers as he pushes in deeper. Yuuri is tight and hot around him, squeezing and pushing back against him, and when Viktor is fully inside of him, he leans forward to press his forehead into Yuuri’s back, gasping and shaking. God, Yuuri feels so fucking good.
He moves slowly, withdrawing, and he thrusts back in hard, shivering at the sound of Yuuri’s moan. He picks up speed, still bent over him, biting hard into his shoulder now as he finds a steady pace. Yuuri moans louder and louder, pushing himself back desperately.
“Oh, God, please, V-Viktor!” he cries out. “Faster, please!”
Viktor rises, grabbing Yuuri’s waist hard, right where his exposed skin is, right where his tattoo guides his hands, and he thrusts hard and fast, rolling his hips to fuck him deeper. Yuuri’s face is pressed into the mattress, and his muffled screams still echo throughout the room, and they’re driving Viktor fucking crazy.
He grits his teeth as he feels himself heat up far too quickly. Yuuri’s too perfect, too tight, too sweet, and the sound and feel of him is just too much to handle. He squeezes his ass, lifting and spreading his cheeks to fuck him deeper, and the sight of his own cock pounding into him makes him tingle, makes him remember how badly he had wanted to be Yuuri’s fingers in his video.
Yuuri screams louder as Viktor slaps his ass again, and he does it again and again, jerking his hips until he feels them jerking on their own, and he bites his lip hard to muffle his scream, his nails digging into Yuuri’s skin and his eyes rolling back as he comes inside of him.
Yuuri makes a frantic whining sound, pushing back as Viktor withdraws, and Viktor watches the cum leak thickly down his thighs. Yuuri whimpers, still aching, still needing him. Viktor rolls him over, and the sight of his red face, his heaving chest, and his swollen cock makes Viktor drool. He once again finds himself unable to look away from it. He needs it. He needs it to break him.
He spots the plug before he makes his next move. He grabs it up, tearing it out of its packaging. He slips it inside of Yuuri, hearing him gasp loudly, and that gasp becomes a cry when Viktor turns it to the highest setting. Yuuri’s voice vibrates as hard as the plug inside of him, and Viktor can see his toes curling.
He falls on him, cupping his face, and Yuuri’s eyes are darkened nearly to black.
“Yuuri. Fuck me. Please?”
Yuuri lurches up to throw him onto his back, and Viktor sees him struggle to grab for the oil and cover his fingers. Viktor can hear the strong buzz of the vibe, and Yuuri seems nearly incapacitated by it. His shaking fingers push into him, and Viktor’s breath hitches as Yuuri starts to finger him faster.
“Yuuri,” he moans, and Yuuri seems to break fast, and in a flash his cock is slick and slipping into him, and Viktor screams. God, fuck, he’s so huge, and Viktor can feel his eyes stinging with tears. It hurts so fucking good.
Yuuri pauses most of the way inside him, but Viktor pushes back into him.
“All of you,” he gasps, “please, all of you.”
Yuuri bucks his hips, filling Viktor completely, and lights burst behind Viktor’s eyes as Yuuri starts to thrust. His movements are jerky and wild, trembling and twitching, the vibe still deep and thrumming within him.
Yuuri’s pace quickens, but it’s not quite steady, and he bucks and ruts like a frantic animal, moaning and whimpering. Viktor is stunned, his legs spread wide for him, his back arcing, and Yuuri feels so fucking good inside of him that he screams. Yuuri takes that as encouragement to fuck him harder, and soon enough Viktor is sobbing, his fingers tangling in Yuuri’s hair as he yanks him down to cry out into his mouth. The vibe is so strong that Viktor can nearly feel it through Yuuri’s cock, and he grabs him tighter, wanting him closer. His own cock is hard again, but before he can reach for it, Yuuri grabs it, and the feel of his oil-slicked fingers sliding up and down him has him moaning wildly.
His nails rake against Yuuri’s back now, scrabbling against the straps of tight fabric, slashing against the slits of skin. Yuuri hisses in pain, but drives into him harder, and Viktor screams, scratching him harder, leaving marks and breaking skin. His nails move down to his waist, to his ass, leaving marks there as he desperately clings onto him, trying to push him inside of himself further.
Yuuri screams every time Viktor’s nails pierce him, his breath hot and heavy against Viktor’s neck, and his teeth sink in suddenly, making Viktor howl in pain. He breaks off to gasp into his ear.
“Viktor, I-I’m gonna, I- fuck, V-Viktor-”
Viktor turns his head to catch his lips, his kiss slow and teasing despite both of their bodies moving so frantically. Viktor can feel himself close again, he feels something strike through him, and he wants to last longer, but he can’t, because Yuuri is the best he’s ever fucking had and he’s losing his fucking mind. He breaks their kiss to moan into his ear.
“Make Daddy come.”
Yuuri cries out, slamming his hips desperately, pumping Viktor’s cock faster and tighter, and when Viktor comes, he screams so hard and so loud that he nearly passes out, his vision fading to black.
“Come for me, Yuuri,” he gasps, struggling for air, and Yuuri clamps his teeth onto Viktor’s neck, sobbing into his skin as he comes hard inside him.
Yuuri collapses onto him, twitching, his breath hitching, his body shaking as the plug still inside of him continues to vibrate mercilessly. Viktor rolls on top of him, kissing his trembling lips softly. He slowly reaches down between Yuuri’s legs, pressing the plug until the vibrations die out, then removes it gently. Yuuri gasps, still twitching, his thighs and legs still shaking. They roll to their sides now, and Viktor takes him into his arms, burying his face into soft and feathery hair.
They lie there, panting and trembling, coming down from their high, and Yuuri presses his face into Viktor’s chest with a happy sigh. Viktor kisses the top of his head, and Yuuri looks up at him. His smile is still shy, and Viktor is amazed that anyone who can beg to be spanked can also look so soft and timid.
“Thanks for coming over,” Yuuri says softly. “I was really scared to ask you.”
Viktor snorts at this.
“Don’t talk to me about scared. I’ve been terrified of you since the day we met.”
“Yeah,” Yuuri says, his smile twitching from shy to sly, “I know.”
Viktor pinches his cheeks, puffing out his own in mock-anger, and Yuuri laughs again, then giggles madly as Viktor starts to press kisses all over his face. He pulls back to look down at him again, and even in the low lamplight, he can see Yuuri’s eyes glint gold, his smile dazzling.
“You shine brighter than any Chihoko in the world.”
Yuuri stares at him blankly, then grins again.
“It’s Shachihoko,” he laughs, “you dork.”
“Well,” Viktor says, wrapping his arms around his waist, “maybe you should take me to Japan and teach me more.”
“Sure!” Yuuri chirps. “My sister would love to cover you in ink!”
Viktor pales, and Yuuri laughs again as he rises like the sun.
“Come on, let’s go shower.” He pauses, looking down at his ruined lingerie. He looks up at him again and grins.
“See you tomorrow?”