Work Header

(in my dreams) you should see the things we do

Work Text:

Yuri wonders--of course he does. Even if he finds Victor constantly annoying and wouldn't actually ever touch him with a ten foot pole, he's still one of the most beautiful men in figure skating, and anyone with a libido who has seen the Eros performance would wonder what Katuski Yuuri looks like in the throes of actual eros. Yuri doesn't like, like-like him, but when he's alone he can admit Katsudon is pretty attractive. Though it will never be spoken of to anyone, there are many nights where Yuri comes to the thought of Katsuki and that flick of his tongue over his lips then of him flushed, shaking, gasping and moaning in pleasure as Yuri fucks into him.

(Sometimes, fantasy-Katsuki praises Yuri's youth and stamina, tells him he's so much better than the old man, and on those nights Yuri proves it right by coming over and over again. He's sixteen; let him live.)

Still, Yuri did not intend to get a front row seat to that. Or, well, something like that.

Early in the summer after that first Grand Prix in Barcelona, Yuri is in Hasetsu again. Victor, apparently, needed to replenish his supply of Instagram posts praising his future in-laws and posing in front of endless tourist traps with his ring flashing in the sun.

Yuri obviously followed. He'd just finished the most amazing senior debut in history, including gold at his first Grand Prix, so he deserved a vacation, and he wasn't going to miss out on the onsen and the food. The banquet room is in use this time, which means Victor and Katsuki take Katsuki's room, but Yuri still gets the room he previously used.

It seems like an improvement, more private than having his room open up right into Victor's. It takes only the first night for him to understand it makes no real difference in the ways that matter, because of how thin the walls are.

The first night there, everyone has retired to bed and he is innocently scrolling through the pictures of Potya that Mila, temporary catsitter, has sent, when the noises start. At first it's just murmuring, and while Yuri is annoyed that he can hear them, he doesn't think much of it.

Then there are moans. A thump against the wall, probably someone's head or elbow. Yuri realizes with dawning horror where this is going, but also…well, like he said, he's been curious before, and he's a teenage boy whose single-minded devotion to his career is not letting him get much action of his own, so. Just what's already happened and the thought of where it could possibly end up is making him harden unbelievably quickly.

"Fuck," Yuri hisses. It takes no time for him to decide to give in, and he yanks his pants down. He'll just have to be quiet--if he can hear them, they'd be able to hear him, and no way does he want them to stop. Fuck yeah, he is ready to hear Katsudon's broken needy cries. It's gonna be so hot . Yuri bites his bottom lip and strokes himself to full hardness.

There's more moans and whimpers, and one of them--Katsuki, obviously--lets out a sharp, high-pitched gasp. Yeah. Yuri closes his eyes and pictures Katsuki making those sounds because of him. Yuri would spread his amazing thighs apart and Katsuki would gasp like that when Yuri pushes his cock into him. Yuri pretends it's Katsuki's tight, hot, to-die-for ass around him instead of his own fist, tamping down his groans as he jerks himself off.

"Harder, harder, fuck me," comes the cry through the wall.

And it's Victor.

Yuri's brain and body are sending conflicting messages, because though his brain is immediately a giant question mark and his hand on his cock slows, said cock didn't get the memo that was Victor and is still traitorously aroused.

What the fuck! Yuri thinks.

"Yuuri, please," Victor actually sobs.

What the fuck. repeats in Yuri's head. He faces a dilemma here. Not a moral one, no--just whether he can get off if it's Victor making all the noise. And if he can live with himself if he does.

"Quiet, Vitenka," Katsuki finally says, in a voice low and sultry, that sends heat up Yuri's spine and has him grabbing for the nearest thing to slick up his hand and get back to work.  Okay, it might not be as good as being able to fantasize that he's giving Katsuki the dicking of his life, since Katsuki seems to be the one doing the dicking, but--he can work with this.

"Do you want everyone to hear you?" Katsuki asks. From Victor's sounds and the rhythmic thumping of the bed against the wall, he must be pounding into Victor, but Katsuki sounds controlled and almost amused. Yuri might be a little impressed. Victor moans out what sounds like a yes, and then Yuri can hear a light smack and Katsuki says, "No, don't touch yourself yet."

Holy shit, bossy Katsuki is kind of sexy. It takes a split second for Yuri to process that for some reason he's listened to the command and stopped, too. He can worry later about why he's obeyed. In the meantime, he keeps his hand loose and unmoving on his cock and wiggles a little closer to the wall, straining to hear as much as he can.

"I love seeing you like this," Katsuki says, slightly breathless. "You're so beautiful. All mine."

Victor moans again. Katsuki is all words, but Victor seems to be loud, shameless cries and gasps and begging. Embarrassing, Yuri thinks, not caring about the hypocrisy of saying that while currently jerking off to them.

"Yours, Yuuri, my love, all yours," Victor cries out.

"Good boy," Katsuki tells him. "You can come whenever you're ready."

He must be fucking Victor even harder and faster because, from what Yuri can hear, Victor's pleas start to slur together and Katsuki, surely flushed and sweaty and powerful, is praising him in a barely-audible voice, panting out something like, "Yes, Vitenka, you feel so good for me, good boy, come on."

Both of their gasps are mingling, and then another cry from Victor. "Yuuuuuuri!"

Yuri pumps his own cock furiously, thrusting his hips up into his hand, fist twisting over the head. His can feel his orgasm building up quickly, and he turns his head to muffle his groan in his pillow as he comes.


Afterwards, Yuri lays still, staring at the ceiling.

There's several things to contend with here:

One, Katsuki may have adopted the femme fatale seductress persona on ice at first, but Yuri's impression of him being the type to coyly beckon and then let his partner take the lead was so far off base it's in another country. Another planet, perhaps.

Two, despite everything, Yuri is apparently into that.

Yuri growls and rolls over, wiping his hand on a shirt he finds on the floor, before grabbing his phone again. Japan is a few hours ahead of Almaty, so Otabek should still be up. Yuri needs to get his focus somewhere else, and immediately. (Is it normal to text your friend right after you jerk off? It's not like Yuri has any friendships to compare it to. Whatever.)


To: Otabek

i need your best insults

From: Otabek

Not saying no, but why?

To: Otabek

you know who just scarred me for life and i need to up my game in retaliation

From: Otabek

What did they do?

To: Otabek

i don't wanna talk about it just send me a list

From: Otabek

Does this have to do with your crush on Katsuki?

To: Otabek

blocked. we're not friends anymore

To: Otabek

send me that list before i block u tho



His fantasies take the liberty of adjusting themselves and coming to him unbidden.

They practice a couple days a week while in Hasetsu, and during practice time, it's this: Katsuki, strong enough to lift Victor in their skate, is surely also strong enough to lift Yuri and hold him up against a wall, or to manhandle him into bed and order Yuri to open himself up for him.

When they are reviewing past performances, including the GPF, it's this: Katsuki grabbing Yuri by his medal (gold, of course) and teaching Yuri a lesson (with his dick) for beating him again.

Victor, in his treatment of Katsuki, is also a reminder of what happened: the way he sighs his name every chance he gets, when he's brushing back Katsuki's hair, when he's applying lip balm to his chapped lips, or when he's on his knees like a devout worshipper so he can lace or unlace Katsuki's skates.

Yuri can't focus on anything else, and once Katsuki takes a break and pulls Victor in for a quick kiss, his hand curled around Victor's neck, Yuri steps out of his quad.  Katsuki doesn't notice, but he thinks Victor does, because Victor catches his eye and gives him a sly smile and a wink.

To: Otabek

ur unblocked. send me something to distract me

From: Otabek

You never blocked me in the first place. But okay. []

To: Otabek


From: Otabek

Katsuki again?

To: Otabek


From: Otabek

I think you need to talk about these feelings with someone. Bottling things up is not healthy, Yura.

To: Otabek


To: Otabek


To: Otabek

u better be not responding bc ur finding me more videos and not bc ur laughing at me


A couple hours later, Yuri gets an unexpected notification: a Snap from Otabek. He hardly ever uses the app, and only installed it in the first place because Yuri said "how else are you going to see all the awesome exclusive pictures I don't put on Instagram," by which he meant photo after photo of every single cat-related item he sees, from street stall t-shirts to Hello Kitty toasters and blenders because yes, he obviously went to the Sanrio store.

But this time it's Otabek sending one, which is rare, so Yuri opens it quickly. Instead of his usual leather jacket, Otabek is in a chunky blue cable-knit sweater, and in the very short video, he's pretending to kiss a disgruntled-looking ginger kitten. It's captioned "Aпа got a cat. Reminds me of you."

Yuri is in the middle of typing out "Who the fuck is Aпа" in reply when he remembers it's Kazakh for sister. That's fine then, he decides, and he focuses on the picture. Otabek looks like a teacher or a grandpa or something equally nerdy, but the reminder that his edgy biker DJ friend is also a cat-loving softie wearing a comfortable sweater stirs fondness in him, and Yuri finds his cheeks warming.


Yuri had made the mistake of thinking maybe he'll get a reprieve from Victor and Katsudon once they got back to Russia. They don't live in the same house, so there's no way he'll have to overhear them at night.

No, this time he walks in on them, instead, and everything he had to imagine before is now seared in fully-dimensional reality into his mind. They must have assumed everyone went home from the rink, but Yuri didn't, and they really should have double-checked before deciding to fuck in the locker room.

Victor is bent over onto a sink counter, and they are both still mostly clothed, but they've pushed their clothes out of the way enough that Yuri can see Katsuki thrusting into Victor, hands gripping Victor's hips as Victor clutches at the edges of the counter. He looks absolutely ruined, eyes closed, red-faced, letting out desperate moans. Katsuki moves his hands from Victor's hips, loops them under Victor's arms and around his chest to pull Victor up against him. Yuri watches as Katsuki's mouth goes to Victor's neck and Victor throws his head back, gasping out, again and again, "Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri."

Fuck. Shit. Yuri slips out to go home and jerk off again.


He doesn't text Otabek about that. He considers it, but he's not sure he's ready to talk about actual sex stuff--real stuff he's seen, not just heard, not just teasing--with Beka. There are some lines. Also, like, what if Otabek judges him? What if Otabek has way more experience? Or maybe he thinks Yuri's fantasies involve making Katsuki cheat (it doesn't--Victor just doesn't exist, irrelevant as always) which makes Yuri a despicable homewrecker and Beka loses all respect for him. Or maybe he'll think Yuri is childish for not being able to control his hormones. Oh god, what if while trading sweater shopping tips with dedushka, which Otabek clearly does, Beka tells him out of concern? Yuri would be forced to commit murder-suicide, and that would probably end his skating career. Better to play it safe and just not say anything.

(Still, unable to help himself from remembering the scene earlier, Yuri tries his fingers that night. He'd been in the onsen before with Katsuki and couldn't have avoided glances even if he wanted to, and so his brain helpfully supplies the information that Katsuki is thick , and Yuri shivers thinking how much fuller he'd feel with the real thing. Yuri is enjoying this fantasy perfectly well until suddenly the memory of Otabek's snapchat pops into the visual, interrupting it, and Yuri is startled into coming.)


Anyway, back to the Katsuki-Nikiforov couple. It has to stop eventually. Right? Yuri doesn't have a crush. So what if he gets hard now nearly every time he's in the same room as Katsudon. Or thinks about him.

(Hang on--Yuri needs to take care of this.)

It's teenage hormones! He just recognizes Katsuki is objectively attractive and now the world won't stop shoving it in his face, sometimes way too literally. He's hyperfocused on it recently because they couldn't keep it down. It's not his fault he's a teenager and the right word can turn him on; even his best friend is showing up in his jerk-off fantasies now, too.

And then it does stop.

"Are you guys, like, fighting or something?" Yuri asks. He just wanted their sex life to stop following him everywhere, but Victor's been noticeably less clingy as well, and it's weird.

Victor frowns. "Yakov said we're distracting everyone." Yuri takes that to mean Yakov was forced to see them in a compromising position recently too and threw a fit. That'll last for a week tops, Yuri thinks. "We are still blissfully engaged, so don't get your hopes up."

"Good! You keep him!" Yuri sputters. "I don't want him!"

"Oh," Victor says with obvious delight, eyebrows rising. "I just meant you like seeing me miserable. Something to share, Yurio?"

Yuri kicks him and skates off.


Yuri's right about their restraint lasting for a few weeks tops, because just a few days later Victor is all over Katsuki again, and Katsuki looks at him so indulgently that Yuri feels like he might be sick from a sugar overdose. They sit on the bench, paused in taking off their skates to nuzzle at each other like fucking… mating birds or something.

He glares at them from his spot where he's doing warm-down stretches. Victor's a peacock, Yuri decides.

Victor pulls Katsuki's foot into his lap and removes the remaining skate for him, massaging the arch of his foot. He leans in again and says something to him, low and inaudible. Katsudon giggles and kisses him, and Yuri can make out "Later, puppy."

Are they talking about Makkachin…?

Oh, no. Yuri notices Victor pressing Katsudon's foot down into his lap, the flush across Victor's cheeks. At the same time, Yuri recalls the first time he overheard them and Katsuki was saying "good boy." It's a sex thing, isn't it? He just called Victor a puppy in a sex way. Now the vomit is really an actual threat. What kind of bizarre shit are they getting up to, and can't they keep it in private?

"I am going to murder you two if you don't stop that!" he hollers.

Katsuki startles, jerking away from Victor, and blushes. "Sorry, Yurio!" He pulls on his regular shoes quickly and then rushes them out. Victor, however, looks like if he had a tail, it'd be wagging.


Truth be told, Yuri is a little scared to Google "do some people pretend to be dogs during sex" but he does, and spends exactly point-zero-five seconds on the first link before closing out of the window, turning his laptop off, and giving brief consideration to tossing it out the window because it's been tainted. He skips that last step.

Anyway, so, the weird couple is even freakier than he could have imagined. He's never thought of himself as boring or vanilla before, but then he also didn't know things like...that…existed. Right now getting naked and touching another dick seems exciting and adventurous enough.

He experimentally tries to think of Katsuki in a sexy way now, but he just pictures Victor in a latex dog mask, barking, and Katsuki swatting him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, instead of the usual instant fantasy involving himself. He pushes that mental image very, very deep and considers himself cured.

Otabek is not gonna believe this.

Yuri checks the time; it'll be early evening for Otabek, so he's probably home making dinner or something. Yuri starts a Skype call. While it's ringing, Potya rubs against his leg and he scoops her up into his lap.

"Hey," Otabek says when he answers. "Hang on, let me prop my phone up."  The image on the screen zooms out and shows Otabek a little damp, his shoulders bare.

"Oh," Yuri starts. "You're, um. Where are you--"

Otabek towels his hair and it flops into his face. "Yeah, you had good timing, I actually just finished and showered at the gym. What's up?" Yuri's eyes involuntarily follow a tiny drop of water inching its way down Otabek's clavicle. "Yura?"

"RIGHT," Yuri says, a little too loudly, perhaps. "I was calling for a reason."

"You don't need a reason to call me," Otabek tells him, quirking a small smile.

His best friend is a sap. A quiet, kind sap who is also really cool and really unfairly handsome. Huh. And also who probably is not a freak like Katsuki.

...then again, he thought Katsuki was an innocent damsel, didn't he? He can't trust his assumptions about anyone anymore. Better make sure. No one is above suspicion.

"Well, I have one!" Yuri says, patting Potya's head and ignoring her squirming. "It's very important."

The background behind Otabek starts moving. "Go ahead, I'm listening, Yuri," he says. "I'm just moving so I'm not in the middle of the locker room anymore with your beautiful voice echoing."

Yuri rolls his eyes; yeah, yeah, he has a voice that projects. "Whatever." He waits for Otabek to find a spot because as much as he might initially enjoy it, causing a scandal because he announced the weird kinks of the world's figure skating power couple is actually not a great idea.

"Alright, I stole one of the empty massage rooms." The room has low light that illuminates Otabek's face.

"Do you think dogs are hot?" Yuri asks, and shit, that's really not what he meant to say, but he was distracted by Otabek's stupid gorgeousness.

"Uh," Otabek says. "They're cute? I prefer cats, though."

Yuri shakes his head. "No, I mean, like, sexy. Would you dress up like a dog and do sex stuff."

Otabek, to his credit, remains stoic, but his eyes are wide. "I'm not sure. What do you think?"

And what kind of answer is that! The right answer is an immediate no. What the fuck. No one can be trusted.

Yuri doesn't get to say this, however, because Potya, his angel, decides that is the moment to knock a glass off his desk. He shoves her away and grabs a towel to clean up the mess. When he returns, Otabek asks about his programs, and he allows the subject change.


The qualifier competitions roll around, and Yuri's ecstatic that he and Otabek both get Rostelecom. Mila and Katsuki do as well, which is fine. Whatever. Except that means Victor tags along, since he'll die if he has to be more than a foot away from Katsuki for more than ten minutes.

Yuri clearly isn't thinking about this when he texts Otabek to come hang out in his room.

"Hi, Yura," Otabek says when Yuri opens the door. He gives a friendly bump of his shoulder into Yuri's on his way in. He's in a vee-neck shirt and black jeans. Yep, Otabek's still just as attractive in the flesh, despite what Yuri told himself about camera filters and the soft glow of memory.

"Hey," Yuri says, totally coolly. He flops onto his bed, and Otabek sits on the edge. "So, I know it's a little early but since we're both in the same place. Wanna do something for your birthday? We could…" he realizes he hasn't really thought this out. "I dunno, whatever you usually do on your birthday I guess…"

Coming to his rescue, Otabek says, "How about we see what movies are on and then grab some dinner? I don't need anything crazy the night before a competition. Your company is enough."

Yuri nods quickly. "Yeah. Cool."

They flip through the channels, and have just settled on some foreign action movie that looked the least cheesy out of all their options, when something hits the wall in the room next door.

"Oh, no." Yuri sits up and glares at the wall.

"What's the matter?" Otabek asks, glancing over at him.

Yuri scowls. "I ended up next to the idiots, that's what--"

He's cut off by Victor being extremely loud with effusive praise for Yuuri's prowess.

Otabek's cheeks are a little pink, but he doesn't look at frustrated as Yuri feels. "It's nice that they are still so into each other," he says.

("Yuuri, you feel so good, want to feel you deeper," Victor cries from next door.)

"Yeah, see, that's a wrong opinion," Yuri replies. "Let's go get dinner."

They both are tired from traveling and checking in and all the usual pre-competition routine, so they decide to not venture far, and end up at the cafe in the hotel lobby. After ordering tea and a few items to snack on, they find a place to sit.

"So," Otabek starts, nudging Yuri's foot with his own under the table. "Does this mean you're over your crush on Katsuki?"

Groaning, Yuri says, "It's not a crush . I think he's a good skater and I thought he was hot until I was forced to listen to him and Victor and now I can never erase the knowledge of the awful stuff they do in bed from my brain. I never liked him."

Otabek looks like he's going to say something else, but he's interrupted by someone hollering his name.

"Yura!" He looks to see Mila waving at him as she weaves through the tables, followed by Georgi.  "Scoot over," she tells him, and slides into the booth next to him.

Yuri hisses. "Did I invite you, baba?"

Ruffling his hair, Mila says, "Don't worry, we won't stay too long, then you can get back to your date." She steals a bite from Yuri's plate and he's too busy swatting at her hand to refute the date part. "Why are you down here?"

"Victor and Katsudon are in the room next to mine," Yuri grumbles.

Mila and Georgi both give sympathetic nods. "Say no more. Been there," Mila tells him. All of Yakov's skaters and anyone else who visits the rink at any time has, at some point, walked in on or overheard them, apparently.

A thought occurs to Yuri. "Georgi, you're a weirdo for love," he says. "Would you pretend to be a dog?"

Mila covers her mouth and laughs into her hand, ending with an undignified snort, but Georgi appears thoughtful. "Love requires compromise and trying new things," he replies.

"No! It's gross! What is wrong with everyone!" Yuri shouts ("Pipe down," Mila tells him, and he ignores her.). "Do you know that's what Victor and that pig do! I'm gonna have nightmares forever!"

"Alhamdulillah," Otabek sighs in obvious relief, interrupting Yuri's rant. "I'm so glad you're not interested in that."

Yuri narrows his eyes at his friend from across the table. That's not what Otabek had said just the other day. He was all 'I'm not sure if I'm a kinky freak, what do you think?' like Yuri wasn't a normal person. "What the fuck, then why'd you say 'I'm not sure' when I asked you that time?" he demands.

Otabek looks at him squarely. "I wanted to know what you thought before I said anything."

He notices Georgi and Mila quietly leaving some cash and slipping away from the table, and he wants to say something, but Otabek's weirdness takes priority. "It shouldn't matter what I think! Why would that change your answer? You're either into that kind of thing or not, right?"

"Yura." He must be seeing things, because it looks like Otabek is slightly blushing. "Maybe I wanted to like what you like."

It takes a second for Yuri to work out that sentence.  "What…" Oh, he thinks, as his stomach flutters. Maybe in this case it wasn't just pesky teenage hormones. Maybe Otabek is feeling the same thing. He remembers what Mila said earlier and leans across the table. "Wait, is this a date?" Does he want it to be? He kinda thinks he wants it to be.

"When I ask you on a date," Otabek says, "I'll be very clear about it."

When. "Okay, well." Yuri stares at his pelmeni, poking one with his fork. "Don't make me wait too long."

"After I win gold," Otabek tells him.

Yuri laughs, his nerves dissolving. "Fuck off, I'm winning gold. You can take silver."

Yuri thinks: Otabek would look good in it, though.  

Yuri also thinks: he'd look even better in nothing but that.

He bites his cheek at the thought. First things first--gold, then a date.