The funny thing about settling into a relationship instead of fumbling one's way through romance was that things that were initially attractive or endearing started to lose their shine.
Not to say Victor was tired of Yuuri himself, because he wasn't. He found a dozen new things to fall in love with every day, like Yuuri's bedhead, or the way he was non-functional before tea, or how small he looked in one of Victor's jackets. It was only that there were other things, too, like Yuuri's habit of throwing his laundry into a pile next to the perfectly good hamper, or the way he demurred and waffled about making decisions for both of them, or his infuriating tendency to apologize for having feelings about things.
Or this, which was probably a silly thing to be frustrated with.
Yuuri clung to his shoulders, fingernails digging into Victor's skin, his whole body rocking with the force of Victor's thrusts. His eyes were scrunched shut, his cheekbones a beautiful pink, and his mouth open on a stream of noises that made Victor bite the side of his tongue to keep from coming. Because that was it—Yuuri's stomach was already wet from his second and third orgasm, his first having been spent in Victor's mouth, and he was still begging Victor for more in broken, accented English.
They had tried everything. Cock rings, which Victor had vetoed after the second time using one made him feel like his balls would fall off and didn't keep him from coming anyway. Lube that was supposed to be "desensitizing" and only succeeded in making Victor's dick go numb. Condoms, even, which Yuuri pouted mightily at, always more satisfied when Victor came inside him.
Nothing made Victor last long enough to wear out Yuuri's inhuman stamina. He'd given up on external aids and now tried to hold himself back with sheer force of will, which was often notably unsuccessful.
Like now, with Yuuri's legs locked around his waist and nails scraping down the length of his back and beautiful voice crying out for him.
"Victor! Ah! Victor, harder, yes, oh fuck, right there, right there, ohhhh."
Yuuri's back arched in a perfect curve and he came again, and this time Victor wasn't strong enough to resist the hot, tight grip around his cock and the sight of Yuuri losing it for him. His hips stuttered and he came, his head falling down to Yuuri's shoulder, a wounded sound crawling up from his throat.
"Mm," Yuuri hummed, stroking his hands down Victor's spine. He looked absolutely debauched, come sticky on his abs, an expression of sleepy pleasure on his face.
Victor flopped down beside him, breathing hard, his orgasm fading into the unwelcome feeling of disappointment.
"You're still hard."
Yuuri looked down at himself like he hadn't noticed. "I'm fine."
"Did you- do you want to...?"
"I could go again," Yuuri said, nonchalantly like he wasn't a multi-orgasmic freak of nature. Then he got a look at Victor's face. "It's fine! Honestly! I loved it, you always feel so good in me. I'm sorry I'm—" he waved a hand at his cock, which still hadn't gotten the memo that the sex was over—"like this."
Victor shifted around on the bed until they could kiss, Victor's mouth pressed firmly to Yuuri's.
"Yuuri Katsuki," he said, trying to sound serious. "Do not apologize for this. On more than one occasion you've reduced me to a begging, drooling, crying mess with your cock and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Yuuri's cheeks were pink again when Victor pulled back, propped up on his elbows so they could look each other in the eye.
"I just hate to see you with that look on your face," Yuuri said, reaching up to brush Victor's hair aside out of his eyes. "That disappointed face. It doesn't suit you. I'd rather see your smile."
Victor couldn't help but smile at that. It didn't make him any less determined to turn the tables.
It took him some time to place the order for exactly what he wanted. There weren't a staggering amount of options available, though thankfully all would ship discreetly. The package was luckily delivered on an off-ice conditioning day, when Yuuri was at the ballet studio instead of the rink. It meant Victor could rush home and drag the box into the apartment without causing suspicion, where he spent the better part of the next three hours deciphering the instructions and cursing the person who invented the phrase assembly required.
He was ready for Yuuri when he finally came home, sweaty and tired from practice. Victor had even cooked one of the three meals he could make reliably that fit their nutritional plan. Yuuri's face lit up when he smelled food from the kitchen.
"You didn't have to cook," he said, kissing Victor on the cheek.
"I wanted to! Besides, I've decided tonight is about spoiling you." Victor swallowed down his nervousness—it wasn't like he'd be able to hide the bulky thing in their bedroom. "I got you a present."
Yuuri's breath puffed against Victor's throat in a laugh. "What is it this time? Yuuri Katsuki track jacket? Official Yuuri Katsuki bobble head doll?"
"I don't always get you your own merchandise," Victor said, though he had to admit it wasn't a bad guess. He enjoyed ordering everything with Yuuri's face on it, half because he could happily look at Yuuri's face for the rest of his life and half because it made Yuuri blush.
"Well, I'm curious now." Yuuri kissed his neck again and Victor shivered, anticipation making his nerves sensitive.
"It's in the bedroom if you want to go look before you shower."
Yuuri made an intrigued sound and pulled away, his bare feet soundless on the carpet as he disappeared into the bedroom. After a long moment of silence, Victor realized he was burning dinner and started it moving around the pan again with frenzied flicks of the wrist. Had he been too presumptuous? Yuuri always said it was fine that Victor couldn't keep up with him. Had Victor been imagining the note of wistful disappointment in his voice?
"Victor," Yuuri called from the bedroom, and Victor's knuckles went white on the handle of the cooking spoon. "Do I want to know how much this cost?"
Victor breathed a little sigh of relief. If it was the money Yuuri was concerned about, that was an old debate with an easy answer.
"Never too much when it comes to you!" he answered, smiling to himself.
Yuuri made an impatient sound. "Victor."
"What do you think?" Victor asked, completely ignoring round eighty-five of Your Sponsorship Money Won't Last Forever by Yuuri Katsuki.
There was another long minute of silence, and Victor started to get nervous again. If Yuuri really didn't like the idea, Victor wasn't sure what he'd do with the monstrosity in the bedroom. It wasn't like he could return it.
Maybe he could give it to Mila.
"I'm taking a shower," Yuuri said. Victor couldn't read anything from his tone. "I'll think about it. In the shower."
Victor bit his tongue to keep from laughing, relieved all over again. If Yuuri had hated it, if he was mad at Victor for presuming or for spending the money, he would have come storming back into the kitchen to tell him so. Instead, all signs pointed to Yuuri being so turned on by the idea he was about to take the edge off in the shower.
Victor squirmed in his seat through most of dinner, poking his food around his plate. His stomach was too knotted with nervousness and impatience to eat, even though he should; his calorie count was just as strict as Yuuri's now that he was back in competitive form.
"Alright, you can eat the rest later," Yuuri said, amusement all over his voice. "Come on."
"You do like it!" Victor bounced down the hall after Yuuri, eager excitement like sparks spitting under his skin.
Yuuri's face was already pink before they walked into the bedroom. It flushed a deeper shade of red when both their eyes landed on the machine in the middle of the floor as if drawn there.
Victor hadn't been exaggerating when he said 'only the best.' The model he'd ordered boasted smooth piston action and a padded bench where someone could lie comfortably - that was, as comfortably as they could while being railed by the dildo on the end of the machine. Yuuri walked a circle around the machine, then reached out and shook the frame, testing its stability. The end of the dildo wobbled. Victor bit his lip to keep from laughing.
"It really has been bothering you, hasn't it? That I can go so many times?" Yuuri ran his fingertips over the long rod that held the dildo.
"Not the way you think," Victor said, trying not to get lost imagining how Yuuri would look, filled up over and over at a relentless, mechanical pace. "It doesn't bother me that you can, it bothers me that I can't. Because you can satisfy me and then some, but I've never seen you the way you've seen me."
Yuuri looked up at him, his face still red and a curious light in his eyes. "See me how?"
Victor approached slowly, circling the fucking machine until he could slide an arm around Yuuri's waist, lower his lips to Yuuri's ear.
"Overwhelmed with pleasure, so insensible with it you don't know whether to beg for more or beg for it to stop. Wrecked until you can't even find words, until you don't even remember your name, and the only thing you can think is how devastatingly good it feels." Victor kissed the soft place just under Yuuri's ear and smiled when he shivered. "That's what you do to me, Yuuri. You take me apart. I want to see what you look like when that happens to you. What you sound like. How many times you'll scream my name until you can't anymore."
Yuuri rolled his hips back against Victor's body, grinding against his cock through his pants. Victor breathed in the scent of his skin, clean from the shower, and brought his hands down to Yuuri's hips.
"I'm going to let it fuck you until you tell me you really want to stop. Then I'm going to fuck you one more time, slow and gentle. You're all mine, Yuuri."
"You've thought about this a lot," Yuuri said, breathless. "Will you watch me?"
"You couldn't stop me. Although, if it takes a while I may have to stop watching you for just a little while, to walk Makkachin and do my stretches."
Yuuri's breath hitched in his throat, and Victor felt the beat of his pulse speed up against his lips.
"You'd just leave me?" Yuuri's voice was even more breathless now. "Do normal things and leave it on while you were out?"
"Only if you take too long," Victor said. He didn't know if even Yuuri could withstand the fucking machine for that long.
"I have to train tomorrow," Yuuri said, doubtful.
"No you don't!" Victor nipped at the line of Yuuri's collarbone. "Your coach is giving you a rest day. Recovery from too much fucking."
Yuuri slid out of his arms and turned around. Victor thought he might be about to say no. His face was still red, and he kept stopping himself from turning to look at the dildo.
"All right," he said. His face was half embarrassment, half determination. Victor loved that look, though he usually saw it at the side of the rink. "How should I...?"
Victor looked him over, sliding his hands under Yuuri's shirt, up the muscled back to his shoulders. "You should take your clothes off, first. I don't know why you bothered to get dressed. Did you think about it in the shower?"
Yuuri stripped his shirt off. Victor knew it was because he was embarrassed, because Victor was right about Yuuri jerking off in the shower. It was also because Yuuri wanted this, which was evident when he let his pants fall to the floor and stepped out of them. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. Yuuri shook his hair out of his eyes and rested the heels of his hands on his thighs, fingers curled. Victor knew that gesture, too. Yuuri was still nervous.
"Yuuri," he said, a smile in his voice as and on his lips. "Lie down on your back."
Yuuri looked over his shoulder at the bench like he'd been trying to forget it was there, his blush returning full force at the dildo on the end of the piston. He looked back at Victor, reaching out to catch his hands.
"Will you let me keep the remote?" He tilted his head at the fucking machine. "Just the first time, probably. I might let you control it another time, but to get used to it-"
"Of course, Yuuri." Victor tugged him closer, slid his hands up Yuuri's forearms until he was cradling Yuuri to him by the elbows. "I'm going to get to see you completely undone eventually. How long you want to take to get there is up to you."
He kissed Yuuri. He kept it soft and nearly innocent, the kind of kiss they would exchange in passing as they walked by each other in the kitchen, or as Yuuri came to sit on the couch. Yuuri was the one who wrapped his arms around Victor's back and pulled them together, kissing him with hunger on his lips.
"You're so convinced you're going to wear me out," Yuuri said. He sounded like he did when Victor suggested they move on from a problem element and come back to it later. Yuuri hated to lose.
"I'm only human, Yuuri. This isn't," Victor said. He backed Yuuri up toward the bench, his hands sliding lower to squeeze at his ass. Yuuri's ass like a marble sculpture given life, tense with movement as Yuuri shuffled backward. Victor could feel the muscles swell and relax under the palms of his hands. His fingers dug into the skin, and Yuuri smiled against his mouth.
The backs of Yuuri's knees hit the bench and they pulled apart, untangling their arms from around one another. Yuuri laid back on the black leather, lifting his arms over his head and gripping the edge of the bench. He let his knees fall to the side, toes just brushing the floor. Victor looked him over, the stretch of skin over muscle and the lean line of his neck as he let his head fall back onto the bench. Victor leaned over and fastened his lips to the skin, sucking until he raised a bruise. Yuuri sighed, the tension in his body unwinding.
Victor slid his hands over the soft skin of Yuuri's arms, feeling around for the restraints that would keep his hands out of the way.
"Is this okay?" he asked, sitting up so he could see to wrap padded leather around Yuuri's slender wrist.
"Yes," Yuuri said, his eyes slipping half-closed behind his glasses. Victor had heard some people say that without glasses, their lover looked more vulnerable. Yuuri skated without his glasses. It would always make Yuuri look more powerful, at least to Victor, when he took them off. So Victor left them on, straightening the frames when Yuuri pushed his face into his arm, a sigh drifting from his lips.
The cuffs were easy enough to fasten and adjust, but Victor let his touch linger on the tendons in Yuuri's wrists, the soft skin at the bend of his elbow. He kissed Yuuri again, sucking at his lip, until he felt Yuuri pull at the cuffs and make a little noise into his mouth.
"Oh," Yuuri gasped when Victor pulled away. "That's. Wow."
His face was red again, and his cock rested against his stomach, hard and pink at the tip.
"I should cuff your legs, too," Victor said. "If you move too much, it could slip out and hurt you."
"Yes, do that," Yuuri said, his eyes flicking down to the dildo. He pulled his knees up, scooting down the bench until his arms were extended.
"Is that comfortable?" Victor adjusted the way Yuuri was laying, putting a little more bend in his elbows, before bringing his legs up to fit into the ankle cuffs.
"I'm fine." Yuuri's eyes flicked from the machine to Victor's face. He arched his back and squirmed, but none of the cuffs gave. "Kiss me?"
Victor bent to kiss him, one of his hands coming to rest lightly on Yuuri's stomach. He circled his thumb around Yuuri's navel and slid his tongue against Yuuri's when his lips parted. He didn't know if he'd be able to stop touching him.
"Victor," Yuuri said. "I want to. You can kiss me then, too."
Victor laughed against his mouth. "You really want it?"
Yuuri looked down at the machine again and his tongue darted out over his lower lip.
"I've never been able to go until I couldn't before," he said, sounding almost shy. "Nobody has ever kept up with me, and after a while I get bored on my own."
Victor's heart slammed against his ribs. He would be the first person to be able to give this to Yuuri. The first person ever. It was a heady feeling, fizzing through his blood like adrenaline. He reached for the lube he'd set nearby and slid his hands down Yuuri's body.
"I don't know how much of that you'll need," Yuuri admitted, a small smile on his lips.
Victor reached between Yuuri's legs, biting his own lip when his fingers slid easily into Yuuri's body. Yuuri sighed and pushed back against the touch, his head rolling back to expose his neck.
"You already did." Victor's mouth was dry. He fit a third finger inside slowly but easily, Yuuri's body giving around him, warm and soft.
"I was impatient. I told you I want it," Yuuri said, his smile getting a little wider. With the blush in his cheeks and his glasses tilted on his face, he looked taken apart already.
Yuuri wiggled on the bench as Victor adjusted the machine, carefully going over the instructions to make sure he had all the settings correct. He coated the dildo with lube and lined the toy up between Yuuri's legs. Yuuri's mouth fell open as it sank in, his eyes sliding shut.
"Does it feel good?" Victor asked, his voice gone low. Yuuri made a soft little affirmative noise, his eyelashes quivering against his cheeks. His body was tense, but if he said it was alright, Victor would put it down to anticipation.
He picked up the remote and slid it into Yuuri's hand, moving his thumb over the button that would start the machine moving.
"This one is 'go' and this one is 'stop'," he said, brushing Yuuri's thumb over the second button. "The dial on the side controls your speed. Ready?"
Yuuri fumbled his thumb over the controls, eagerness making him clumsy. Victor double checked to be sure the dial was turned all the way down as Yuuri nodded, finally opening his eyes again, sure and full of desire. Victor pushed Yuuri's thumb down with his own.
The machine whirred as it started up, drawing the dildo slowly out of Yuuri and then pushing it back in with a quiet click of the piston on its track. Yuuri moaned, a shiver running through him that rattled the cuffs. The starting pace was incredibly slow, precisely the same on each stroke. Victor trailed his hands over Yuuri's skin as he moved down Yuuri's body until he could see.
The dildo sank into him easily, slick with lube, the machine pushing it deep. Yuuri relaxed into the feeling, his head rolling to one side, his ankles shifting at the restraints like he was trying to spread his legs wider. Victor watched the machine fuck him like he was hypnotized, each click of the machine's piston heralding the deepest part of the thrust, where all but an inch of the toy was inside him.
"Victor," Yuuri moaned, his back arching helplessly off the bench. "You can touch me just- ah! Don't touch my cock yet. Feels good."
Victor had his mouth on Yuuri's skin before he was done talking, leaving sloppy kisses on his stomach and his chest. Yuuri's cock was a temptation, wet at the tip and bobbing against Yuuri's stomach when the machine thrust in. Yuuri gasped, and the clicks from the machine started to come a little faster. Victor sucked at his nipples, listening to the soft little noises he made whenever Victor pressed his tongue down against one and licked.
"Mmm, this is nice," Yuuri said, sounding lazy and content. The machine was fucking him at a reasonable pace now, one similar to how Victor moved when he was in the mood for slow, languid sex that left them both boneless and sleepy. Victor ran his hands along Yuuri's sides, up his arms to his wrists, holding on loosely just below the cuffs while he kissed Yuuri again.
Victor could feel the heat of Yuuri's flush against his own skin as they kissed, the little motions of the tendons in Yuuri's wrists under his fingers. The pace of the machine quickened again, and Victor straightened so he could look.
Yuuri's cock looked urgent now, bouncing against his stomach as Yuuri pulled at the cuffs and bowed his back, trying uselessly to find touch where there wasn't any to be had. Victor licked his lips, wondering if he should help, but Yuuri looked like he was loving it. His chin was tipped up, his glasses resting more on his forehead than over his eyes.
"Yuuri." Victor bent down so he could whisper in Yuuri's ear, his eyes still fixed down the lines of Yuuri's body to his cock. "Do you want me to touch you? Does it make you want to come already?"
The answer Victor got was barely coherent, a slurred word in Japanese that Victor only recognized as a plea because he'd heard it from Yuuri before. He nibbled at the shell of Yuuri's ear and smoothed the palm of his hand down Yuuri's stomach, wrapping his fingers around the shaft and stroking.
He watched with rapt fascination as Yuuri came, shooting onto his stomach in gleaming streaks of white. The machine kept going through it, relentless and unstoppable, until Yuuri let out a breathless sound and cranked the dial down to the starting pace, deliberate and slow.
"Wait," Yuuri said as Victor reached to drag his fingers through the come on Yuuri's stomach. "Leave it until it's done."
Victor moaned this time, kissing Yuuri harder than before and sucking on his tongue before they separated.
"You look amazing." It was woefully inadequate. Yuuri looked obscene, the dildo still pumping in and out of him, his cock half-hard and seemingly confused about whether it was getting hard again or going soft. His own come decorated his abs like a glaze. Victor wondered how much more would be there before the night was over.
"I want—" Yuuri's breath stuttered in short gasps, his thighs flexing, ankles rolling in the cuffs. One orgasm had never made him lose track of his words before. If Victor hadn't already considered the machine a good investment for how much it turned Yuuri on, that would have done it.
"I want to see if I can do it without touching," Yuuri managed. "Don't—let the machine. I'll tell you—oh, oh fuck."
Yuuri had turned the speed up again, to the same pace he'd used to come before. His cock swelled back to hardness. Victor watched Yuuri's eyes roll back as it fucked into him. Victor had seen that look, the one where Yuuri was riding the edge of a recent orgasm, a hundred times. This, though, was special. This was Yuuri trying to fuck himself back against the dildo, his thighs bunching and releasing, his hair already sticking to his neck with sweat.
This time Victor caught the quick flick of Yuuri's thumb on the controls. He wasn't as surprised as the last time to hear the machine speed up, pumping the dildo into Yuuri at a generous pace. Yuuri wiggled on the bench, breathing hard, his eyes only slitted open behind his glasses.
Getting off hands-free was rare for Yuuri. It needed the right mood and the right combination of stimulation. Victor kissed his neck and his shoulders as he arched and moaned and his dick flushed redder, still dripping from his last orgasm.
"You're going to feel so good when I finally get to fuck you," he said. "You'll be so loose and relaxed I'll just be able to slip right into you. I'll go so slow you'll cry for me, Yuuri."
"Ah," Yuuri gasped, then sucked his lip into his mouth, his teeth leaving perfect indents in the soft skin. Victor laid his thumb over Yuuri's mouth and tugged it free, pushing his fingers there instead. Yuuri rubbed his tongue over them, sucked at them until spit slipped out from the corner of his mouth. Victor pressed down, forcing his mouth open, relishing the loud, unrestrained moan he got in return.
"Do you want to suck me, Yuuri?" Victor smiled into the skin of Yuuri's jaw when he moaned, the last thread of it hitching off into a gasp as he dialed the machine up again. His breath washed hot over the backs of Victor's fingers in heavy pants.
"Oh you do," Victor said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. "After you come again, you can turn over and I'll give it to you."
Yuuri slurred Victor's name around the fingers in his mouth. Victor lifted his head to watch Yuuri being fucked, the piston of the machine driving into him as fast as Victor had ever managed, and longer than he could have sustained it. Yuuri's legs were trembling, his knees jerking and his hips rolling on the bench as he tried to force the machine to fuck him at the right angle. Precome welled up and dripped onto his stomach, adding to the small pool already in his belly button. Victor's mouth watered with the desire to taste, so he sucked at Yuuri's shoulder instead, raising another reddened mark, worrying it with his teeth.
The sounds Yuuri made around Victor's fingers were beautiful; loud moans and garbled words. Victor finally slipped his fingers out of Yuuri's mouth, rubbing them against his lower lip as he withdrew. Yuuri looked up at him, his eyes full of lust and desperation. The bench rattled as he pulled at the cuffs, writhing, trying desperately to come while the machine fucked him relentlessly.
Victor rubbed his spit-slicked thumb over Yuuri's nipple, and Yuuri's body spasmed like he'd been electrocuted.
"More," he moaned, his back arched toward Victor's touch. His glasses were tipped diagonally on his face, his mouth red from kissing. Come was already drying tacky on his stomach. He looked beautiful. He was The Rite of Spring, the glorious sacrifice dancing himself raw. The machine pistoned into him, pounding, relentless, harder and faster than Victor could ever hope to keep up with.
He pinched Yuuri's nipple, the crescent of his thumbnail scraping over the sensitive tip, just as his mouth closed over the other. The cuffs rattled hard and Yuuri made a scraping, desperate noise in his throat.
Victor felt it splash on the edge of his jaw when Yuuri came, looked up in time to see Yuuri's cock spurting and his stomach trembling. The ankle cuffs creaked as much as the wrist cuffs, Yuuri's feet kicking at the bench. A thin whine crawled up out of his mouth and the machine slowed abruptly. Yuuri twitched even at that, gasping, and the machine stilled to a stop.
"Done?" Victor asked playfully. He propped himself up on his elbow and waited until Yuuri's eyes struggled open before wiping the come from his cheek with his thumb. Yuuri leaned his head up from the bench, but Victor smeared it along his lower lip instead of pushing his thumb into Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri's tongue chased him as he pulled away, before Yuuri sucked his lip into his mouth and fluttered his eyelids at Victor in a way that had to be purposeful.
Victor had only planned to come once tonight, but if Yuuri was going to look like that, his 'once' would happen long before Yuuri was done. That wasn't part of the plan.
"Flip me over," Yuuri said, his voice taking on a coarse edge already. He hadn't even screamed yet.
Victor's fingers only shook a little as he unbuckled the restraints. Yuuri's thighs and stomach flexed as he scooted off the dildo. The toy slid free with a wet noise and a small whimper in the back of Yuuri's throat.
His knees trembled. Victor wrapped his hands around both of Yuuri's elbows, pulling him slowly upright until he was on his feet, leaning against Victor's chest.
Yuuri wasn't a small person. Victor had met small people; Yuuri's little admirer, Minami, was small. Next to Victor though, Yuuri was a few inches shorter and slighter in the shoulders and hips. When Victor slid his hand to the small of Yuuri's naked back, Yuuri shuddered against his body. Victor was still clothed, and Yuuri was rubbing himself all along Victor's front, smearing the mess of his come on Victor's clothes with a look on his face Victor remembered so clearly from his Eros program it was like it was yesterday.
"Yuuri, you're getting my clothes dirty," Victor said. He slid his thumb along the delicate bumps in Yuuri's spine, down to his ass. He kneaded at the naked muscle, digging his fingers in, nudging at the top of Yuuri's head with his nose until Yuuri tipped his head up to be kissed. He lingered in it, sucking at Yuuri's lip, breaking away to bite at his jaw. Yuuri hummed, a satisfied noise that buzzed against Victor's lips.
He stepped back, slipping Victor's grasp, and straightened his glasses before straddling the bench the other direction. He wiggled backward until the dildo poked him in the small of the back. Victor followed him, stroking a hand over his shoulders and down to his ass.
"Do you want to be strapped in again?"
"Yes," Yuuri said, no hesitation. He draped himself over the bench, knees and arms on either side, wiggling and biting his lip as his cock slid over the leather.
"You like being tied down?" Victor had to arrange his limbs a little differently in this position, guiding Yuuri's elbows to bend so he could fit the cuffs around his wrists. Yuuri's ankles he pushed against the curve of his ass, cuffing him with his legs folded.
"Feels nice," Yuuri said. He sounded comfortable, like he might fall asleep. "Like you're holding me, but you can touch me, too."
Victor tugged his hips back, straightening him out on the bench. He gasped at the movement, his muscles shuddering under Victor's palms. Victor leaned down to kiss the back of his neck, warm against his lips.
"I'm going to put it back in now," he said, picking up the lube again.
Yuuri took his fingers so smoothly, all the way to the knuckles. Victor was sloppy with the lube, pushing more inside him until Yuuri's thighs were wet with it. He twisted, able to pick up his shoulder and look back at Victor while he was cuffed in at this angle.
"Victor, do it." He licked his lip, sucking it slowly into his mouth, his eyes heavy and tempting. "I want you at the same time."
There was no universe where Victor could resist Yuuri Katsuki's bedroom eyes, especially when he was wearing his glasses, soft and disheveled. His fingers slipped from Yuuri and he smeared lube onto the dildo, sinking it back inside. Yuuri went boneless against the bench with a pleased moan, rubbing his cock against the leather.
"It'll be so much easier like this," he said breathlessly. "Give me the remote back, I want to turn it on."
"You do?" Victor teased, squeezing Yuuri's ass with both hands, palms slipping in lube. "How hard are you going to make it fuck you while you're sucking me? Do you want it to fuck you onto my cock?"
Yuuri moaned again, his ass flexing under Victor's hands as he clenched around the toy.
"Victor, don't make me wait."
Victor pressed the remote into Yuuri's hand. "Go ahead. Make yourself come again and I'll let you have me."
Yuuri punched the button to start the machine and immediately dialed it up, vigorous strokes that pushed him into the bench. His restraint was gone, and he moaned aloud as he ground against the bench, his cheekbone resting on his bicep and his mouth open, breath leaving little dots of condensation on the leather. Victor watched his face, fascinated with the scrunch of skin between his eyebrows and the wrinkles on the bridge of his nose. His lower lip left a slick smudge on the bench, wet from his mouth.
Victor pressed his palm against his dick through his pants, squeezing to relieve the pressure. He stroked Yuuri's hair with his other hand, nails sliding against his scalp. The machine whirred as it pounded him, a merciless counterpoint to the soft touch of Victor's hand.
"Yuuuuri," he said, drawing it out until Yuuri cracked his eyes open. Victor squeezed himself, stretching his sweatpants over the outline of his cock. "Will you come for me? Don't you want it?"
Yuuri groaned like Victor had squeezed the breath out of him and lifted his head, his glasses slipping down his nose. He leaned forward, trying to push his face between Victor's legs, but the cuffs brought him up short.
"Victor," he whined, staring up him above the rims of his glasses. His mouth was full, lips bitten and swollen, slick with the wet touch of his tongue.
"You look so good," Victor said, stroking himself through his pants. "You're beautiful. Such a mess, falling apart for me."
"Victor," Yuuri said again, his head rolling back on his neck, his shoulders going tight and his back bending to press his cock tight against the bench. His breath hitched on a gasp and he jerked in the cuffs. Victor could tell he'd come from how quickly Yuuri turned the machine down, from frantic fucking to slow, even strokes.
Yuuri opened his eyes, heavy-lidded and sleepy. He opened his mouth, too, straining after Victor's cock, his tongue falling out over his lip.
"You want it so much," Victor said, tugging his pants and underwear down and shuffling up to the bench. The head of his cock slid over Yuuri's lip and missed his mouth, smearing precome on his cheek. Yuuri turned his head, trying to catch it between his lips. Looking down his body, Victor could see a tremble in his thighs, his ass—signs he was being fucked too soon after his orgasm. He didn't stop the machine, though, and it pushed in and pulled back at the same mechanical interval, making him shudder every time.
Victor gripped the base of his cock and pushed it into Yuuri's mouth, rubbing the head over his tongue. Yuuri's lips closed around him and he sucked, his mouth hot, tongue licking over the slit to taste him. Victor groaned and pushed in deeper, letting Yuuri take more of him in until his cock nudged at the back of Yuuri's throat.
Yuuri moaned, the buzz of it around Victor's dick going straight up his spine like an electric shock. His brain felt like it skipped, coherent thought stuttering into static.
The steady click of the machine picked up its pace. Yuuri sucked at his cock, and Victor could barely keep his eyes open to watch. Every time the dildo disappeared into Yuuri's ass, he made a little sound, his breath puffing from his nose on whimpers and moans that vibrated up the shaft. He pressed his tongue along the underside, lips sealed tight. Victor's fingers gripped his hair, not pulling but anchoring himself against the feeling of Yuuri sucking him and making filthy, satisfied noises like he'd never tasted anything better.
Yuuri was grinding into the bench again. The leather creaked, and when he pushed down it made messy noises as he slid through his own come. The speed of the piston picked up again, making him twitch and writhe and whimper around Victor's cock, his glasses sliding further down his nose until they bumped against Victor's stomach.
"I want to come on your face," Victor said, surprising himself with how rough his voice sounded. "You're making a mess of yourself, I want to help."
Yuuri moaned and strained to get more of Victor's cock in his mouth, his hands clenched into fists. He pulled back until he was just sucking at the tip again, looking up at Victor with hot desire in his eyes. Victor's fingers slipped in Yuuri's spit as he wrapped his hand around himself, squeezing and stroking until he felt it building in his gut, his balls aching.
The first spurt of come went into Yuuri's mouth, coating his tongue white before Victor pulled his cock from Yuuri's lips and painted them with it. Come dripped over Yuuri's chin. Victor thrust into his fist and wrung out the last few drops onto Yuuri's cheek, his breath punched out of him by the way Yuuri stared at him with his mouth open, marked inside and out.
Yuuri turned the machine up again, his eyes rolling back. He didn't bother to swallow, drooling messily over his chin, grinding into the bench, mindlessly chasing after his own climax with Victor's come all over his mouth and chin and Victor's fingers tangled in his hair.
He was so arresting that Victor nearly missed the thump from the front room of the apartment. Yuuri definitely missed it, ass clenching around the machine when it fucked into him, panting through his parted lips. Victor leaned down to kiss him, tasting himself in Yuuri's mouth and getting his own lips messy with it.
"I'll be right back," he murmured. "Okay?"
"Uh," Yuuri said, more of a punched-out huff of breath than an agreement. "Uh-huh," he amended, blinking up at Victor with glazed eyes.
Victor smiled and kissed him again. "Right back."
Yuuri moaned when Victor's hands left him, and for a moment Victor hesitated, but Yuuri just pushed his face into the leather bench, smearing it sticky white, and turned the machine down a little, almost like he was teasing himself with it. He would be fine.
Victor left the bedroom door cracked open, just in case. He still felt a little wrung out, floating in his orgasm. He was so relaxed he couldn't even be annoyed when he found Makkachin with his face in the meat tray, having pulled it down from the stove. Victor took it away from him and put it in the sink, going to clear the table as well.
His mind stayed on Yuuri as he ran the tap hot and plugged the sink, filling it with hot, soapy water to soak. Had he kept the machine to its slow and steady pace or had he turned it up again? Had he come? How much more debauched would he look when Victor finally came back to the bedroom?
He found himself prolonging his return. He didn't want to leave the apartment to walk Makkachin, not while Yuuri was in restraints, but he shook off the placemats into the tablecloth, bundled it all up for washing, and took it to the hamper while he listened for Yuuri's noises from down the hall.
Yuuri was keeping himself quiet, only the occasional moan drifting from the bedroom. The whir of the machine was louder. Victor's skin prickled, listening to the rhythm and imagining the dildo fucking Yuuri fast and hard, squelching in all that lube, Yuuri taking it easily after being fucked so open. The last tingling high from Victor's orgasm had faded. He reached into his sweatpants and cupped his cock, soft against his palm, rubbing and squeezing as he imagined how easy Yuuri would take him after this was all over.
He couldn't resist anymore. The cracked bedroom door and the high-pitched sounds Yuuri was making were too much. Victor walked the apartment one more time, making sure nothing was within Makkachin's reach that he didn't need to be into, and returned to the bedroom.
Yuuri's knuckles were white around the end of the bench. His skin shone with sweat, his mouth open as he gulped in huge breaths of air. His eyes were squeezed shut, his glasses nowhere to be seen. The machine fucked him so fast it was nearly a blur, Yuuri's body jerking and twitching. He whined in the back of his throat, rolling his head to the other side and then back again. Victor watched him jerk in his cuffs until the bench creaked, his eyelashes beading with tears. Yuuri's head thrashed to the other side again, his spine bowing taut.
Victor came to stand next to the bench, stroking over Yuuri's hair. Yuuri's eyes flew open and his toes curled, tremors wracking him as he came, Victor's name on his lips trailing off into a raw scream. Victor bent down to capture it from Yuuri's mouth, listening to his breath hiccup, the wet sounds of him being fucked, and the squeak of sweaty skin on leather.
The machine slowed, back to its inexorable starting rhythm, then stopped. Yuuri was shaking, his mouth slack, letting Victor lick over his tongue and teeth and the roof of his mouth. When Victor pulled back, Yuuri blinked watery eyes at him, dazed.
"Did you come again?" Victor asked, nudging his lips at Yuuri's jaw. Yuuri even flinched at that tiny stimulation.
"Twice," Yuuri said, his voice absolutely gone.
"Did the machine wear you out?" Victor stroked his hair, cupped the back of his neck, kissed at Yuuri's throat.
"I don't think I could get hard again," Yuuri said, sounding a little awed.
"Mm, but I still have to fuck you, Yuuri."
"Yes," Yuuri said, fierce despite the exhaustion in his voice. "Fuck me, Victor."
Victor's hand slipped in lube as he pulled the dildo out. He fumbled with the cuffs, clumsy with his own eagerness. Yuuri groaned as he sat up, his stomach peeling away from the bench, sticky with come from his sternum down to his balls.
"You made a mess of yourself, Yuuri," Victor said, sliding one arm under Yuuri's knees and the other around his shoulders. He carried Yuuri the short distance to the bed, laying him down over the sheets. Yuuri's legs splayed wide, his arms falling to the bed beside his head. His eyes were closed. He looked like he might fall asleep.
Victor cupped Yuuri's cock, soft and sticky with come, and Yuuri grabbed for his biceps with a gasp, curling in on himself. New tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Victor leaned in to taste them on his lips.
"I can't," Yuuri said, sounding wretched. "Please just fuck me. I want to feel you inside me."
Victor yanked his sweatpants down. Normally he couldn't get hard twice in one night, especially not so close together, but seeing Yuuri like this was everything he'd wanted when he brought the machine home. He was pliant and fucked out and heavy-limbed, murmuring unintelligible sounds as Victor pulled him close by his hips and pushed into him.
His cock sank into Yuuri's body, slick and wet, no resistance from the worn out muscles of his hole. Victor was all the way inside him in one thrust, Yuuri giving around him. He moaned, his thighs clamping around Victor's waist, fingers digging into Victor's arms.
"Can you take it?" Victor murmured, pulling out and fucking back into Yuuri as slow as he could.
"Yes," Yuuri said, high and breathy. He was shaking; Victor could feel the tremors where Yuuri's knees rested against his ribs. His expression was rapturous, his eyes slitted open, his lips parted, soft and serene. Victor felt for a moment like he was the one fucked out and struggling for breath. Yuuri was so beautiful it hurt, like a hand squeezing around his heart. Victor hoped the feeling never went away.
"No wonder you love doing this to me," Victor murmured. He leaned down, changing the angle and forcing a weak moan from Yuuri's chest. "You're amazing. You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."
"Victor," Yuuri gasped, the breath pushed out of him again when Victor thrust. He chanted it, syllables of his name washing over Victor's ears. He pushed his face into the sweaty skin of Yuuri's neck and groaned, his rhythm breaking, fucking Yuuri faster and harder until his name on Yuuri's lips broke into whines and Yuuri's nails clawed at his shoulders.
"So good," Victor said, muffled by Yuuri's skin. "Yuuri, so good, fuck, oh, Yuuri."
Victor made a mess of him, keeping his hips moving as he came, adding another rush of wet that made obscene sounds as he finally slowed, his cock achingly sensitive, and forced himself up on shaking elbows to see Yuuri.
He was breathing hard, his face flushed red, streaked wet with tears and saliva and the sticky remains of Victor's come. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. As Victor sat up, letting Yuuri uncurl, he groaned and flinched, hissing through his teeth when Victor's cock slipped free of him.
"Not moving," he said emphatically, blinking up at Victor. He let his arms fall to the bed, splaying out like a starfish as if to show Victor how serious he was.
"I'll move you," Victor said. "You need a shower. I'll run a bath while you do."
"Mmm," Yuuri said, the corner of his mouth tilting up. "I'll fall in the shower and drown. I'm useless. This is the best."
Victor laughed, rolling over to lie next to Yuuri. He threw his arm over Yuuri's chest and his leg over Yuuri's thighs, scooting closer until he could wind around Yuuri like a blanket of limbs.
"You'll be sticky and you'll hate it," Victor said, trying to sound convincing. "The water will feel good."
"Standing, too much work," Yuuri sighed, his fingers creeping into Victor's hair. "Just put me in the bathtub."
"Yuuri!" Victor laughed again. "You hate that! It must have really worn you out."
"You did," Yuuri said, turning his head to kiss Victor, his lips landing uncoordinated on the bridge of Victor's nose. "I couldn't get hard again if you wanted me to. I feel amazing."
"So you'll admit I have good taste in presents now," Victor said, poking Yuuri in the side. Yuuri tried to grab for Victor's hand, but Victor yanked out of reach and Yuuri only made a disgusted noise at Victor wiggling his fingers in a taunt.
"If I come home to any more posters of my face on the bedroom ceiling, I'm divorcing you."
Victor gasped. "Yuuri! That means we'll get married!"
"Of course," Yuuri mumbled, his eyes slipping closed. "Turn the water on in the tub. You can give me a sponge bath while it gets warm."
"Are you going to make me carry you?" Victor asked, already tugging Yuuri over to the side of the bed so he could be picked up.
"My knees don't work. Good thing my coach gave me the day off, isn't it?" Yuuri clung to the back of Victor's neck with one hand, the other cradled against his chest, as Victor walked him into the bathroom and set him down gently in the tub. He kissed Yuuri, their tongues lingering in the space between their mouths as Victor reached for the washcloth.
Victor finally had to pull away to look at what he was doing. When he turned back, Yuuri's eyes were soft and fond, a smile on his lips, his hair sticking up in an odd direction. Victor kissed him again, helpless, savoring the feel of Yuuri on his lips.
"I love you," Yuuri said, first in English that was softer with his accent than usual, then in crisper Japanese, and finally in halting, hesitant Russian. Victor's heart felt full, from the taste of Yuuri on his tongue to the way Yuuri's toes pushed against the bathtub when Victor whispered it back in all three languages again.
Much later, when Yuuri was clean and Victor had coaxed him, grumbling, into drinking a glass of water, they lay curled around each other in bed, their foreheads resting together and their breath mingling.
"Victor," Yuuri mumbled, half-asleep in the dark.
"Hmm?" Victor asked, nearly asleep himself.
"Next time you can have the remote," Yuuri said, slurred enough with the tired thickening of his accent that it took Victor a moment to pick apart what he was talking about, and by the time he did, Yuuri was truly asleep.
Victor looked at his sleeping face in the dark, at the way his lips were still pink and a little swollen from all the kissing, and shivered in sleepy anticipation. He would carry that thought down into his dreams.