Yuuri is still wet inside when Victor trails a hand down between his legs.
Victor loses his breath as his fingers slip down past Yuuri’s tailbone, down into the searing heat of him and Victor’s fingers sink in so easy. Too easy for Victor to have been prepared and now, Victor stammers, halts and tumbles over himself trying to catch up with the heady reality beneath him. Yuuri mewls into the pillow as Victor slides his fingers in- two, hot and straining in scissor to match Yuuri’s stretch- his body a squirming and tight wiggle of need against the soiled bedsheets that burns a hole in Victor’s gut to watch.
It’s the morning after and in truth, Victor felt he had been chancing his arm when he’d awoken to a still deliciously naked Yuuri curled up against him. So tempting, Victor had simply sunk down into the sleepy warmth of Yuuri with an arm around Yuuri’s wasit and Victor’s morning wood grinding along the curve of Yuuri’s ass. But then Yuuri had pushed back, in a rare instance of early morning lucidity with a deep rumble in his throat.
Humming, bass-like against Victor’s cheek as Yuuri had tilted his head back to brush his lips there; ‘Mmm, Vitya… ki- kimochi.’
Then Yuuri had taken Victor’s hand, pulled it down to bring Victor’s trembling fingers to Yuuri’s cock where it was hard and sticky, foreskin velvet drag beneath Victor’s palm.
‘Fuck,’ was all Victor had managed at that and it served as both answer and promise, going by the delighted little giggle that had bubbled out of Yuuri at hearing it, Victor too distracted to do much but awkwardly jerk Yuuri’s cock twice or so. All Yuuri had had to do then was turn onto his stomach, Victor following him with a reaching hand that slid hot, heavy and wanting down Yuuri’s back, his hips, his ass-
‘Christ, Yuuri.’ Victor grits his teeth as he puts his fingers together, circling them in slow, steady motion that pulls Yuuri’s hole around wider. Yuuri moans and it's filthy, high pitched as Yuuri bends his back, pushing his ass more into Victor’s fingers. Victor’s mouth goes dry as his knuckles catch on Yuuri’s rim, Yuuri’s voice turning in sharp angle of groan to whine, pinching tight in his chest.
‘Hai, hai,’ Yuuri manages to say and it’s a tease, the Japanese, Victor knows it is but it works all the same as Victor bends down to mouth against Yuuri’s back. Sucks open mouthed kisses that leave Yuuri’s olive skin mottled pink. Victor could bruise, has bruised on many occasion before, but Victor can barely close his mouth as it is. Too busy panting, desperate already at the way Yuuri is grinding into his hand. ‘Victor, please. I want- I want.’
Victor wants, too, his own cock feeling like the tail end of a corkscrew as the need curls tight and heavy in his balls. They haven’t started, not really, but Victor wants to come so badly already. He wants to rut against Yuuri’s hips, wants to fuck Yuuri’s soaking, ruined heat until he leaks. Victor feels like a man drowning in something too thick to hold his lungs open.
‘Da, da, miliy,’ Victor babbles, uselessly, as he reaches behind himself for the lube. It has to be near, they’d only used it last night. Yuuri makes a very disapproving noise as Victor pulls his fingers out, needing to turn around properly. It scours in Victor’s stomach- carves deep, because Yuuri wants him and Yuuri wants Victor to fuck him and Victor needs to be doing that as soon as possible.
Victor finds the lube on the floor which is just typical and when he turns around, Yuuri is looking over his shoulder at him. Victor smiles, tossing the lube against Yuuri’s hip as he leans down to kiss the squint-frown between Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri sighs, but it’s impatient and he tilts his head up to lave at Victor’s mouth. Lick along the seam of Victor’s lips, suck in breath as Victor pushes Yuuri back down against the pillows.
‘Oh, yes,’ Yuuri says and Victor can hear the grin there, each word a tooth in Yuuri’s triumph as Victor gives Yuuri exactly what he wants. Victor settles behind Yuuri again, fidgeting with the hard-won lube. Victor reaches down with his other hand, spreading Yuuri apart and dripping lube there. Delighting in Yuuri’s squeak. ‘Victor! I don’t need- ah!’
What Yuuri does or doesn’t need is now entirely at Victor’s mercy, as Victor dives two fingers back into Yuuri again, aiming straight and true as Yuuri goes rigid beneath him. His dark hair is tufted, messy and spread across the pillow as Yuuri whines into it, rocking back onto Victor’s fingers that slowly add a third. Victor is probably being too cautious, too careful still. But Victor will take the time, loves to take the time.
Loves the way Yuuri raises his leg up along the bed, using it as leverage to bend his knees somewhat so Victor can fuck him deeper. The nub of Yuuri’s prostate is harder to reach with three, which just means Victor gets to enjoy Yuuri writhing, agonising, to get them where he wants them. They’re making a mess- there’s lube dripping, soaking the sheets and Victor can feel the swell of his own come from the previous night cloying slick around his fingers.
Victor wants to fuck Yuuri so much, leans down low just so he can whisper it in Yuuri’s ear as he opens his fingers in Yuuri’s ass, hearing Yuuri moan at the stretch and the wet. He licks the shell of Yuuri’s ear as Victor pulls his fingers out, murmuring against Yuuri’s skin about how good Yuuri feels, how warm and how Victor loves the way he smells.
‘You…’ Yuuri starts, then stops as Victor straddles him proper now, cock a sticky weight across Yuuri’s tailbone as Victor teases. ‘You sap.’
Victor grins; can’t help it. He almost laughs, but then Yuuri arches his back. It tugs his ass up, lets Victor’s cock fall heavy between his cheeks. The drench of lube there is cold against Victor’s head and he sucks in a breath, too ridiculously turned on. Victor is buzzing, all along the top of his skin. Victor feels his soul could slip out between the vibrating particles, because Yuuri is just that beautiful. Just that good. Just that… Victor’s.
Victor gets an unsteady grip on Yuuri’s hip with one hand, the other helping him slide into the slick, burning space Victor has made for himself between Yuuri’s legs. Victor’s cock slides into Yuuri so quick, so easy that Victor has to stop before he’s all the way in, because just the thought of how fucked Yuuri already is is enough to tear strips off Victor’s belly until he’s raw.
But Yuuri is wretched beneath him, guttural pants of oh oh oh spurting out of him as Yuuri inches back on his knees, sinking Victor deeper. Victor tightens his hold on Yuuri’s hip, splays his now free hand open palmed and burning on Yuuri’s lower back as his balls bump heavy against Yuuri’s ass.
‘Vitya, Vit- ah,ah!’ is all Yuuri seems to be able to manage, which suits Victor just fine as he needs the time. Yuuri is gone already and it’s a wave of heat in Victor’s gut, his cock, his balls. Victor snaps forward, driving his cock in and then out, cursing as Yuuri’s body clenches tight but slick around the thick of him.
Victor watches himself fuck Yuuri, watches the pink taught skin of Yuuri's rim and the shine of the lube in the morning light that streams white through the snow and the curtains. The room is almost too hot now, the heating system old in this Soviet apartment and never off. Victor’s sweating, hair sticking to his forehead as he gives Yuuri exactly what he wants, going by the way Yuuri is scrabbling fierce on the sheets and chanting shitai and harder, yes!
Yuuri flips English and Japanese like a coin, knowing exactly what it does to Victor and seemingly uncaring of the damage he does in the process. Said damage being that Victor has been doing Yuuri for less than two minutes and already there’s a pull in his cock, the swell of orgasm threatening to break dam. Victor grits his teeth, skin slapping from where they’re fucking and tries to focus on anything but the way ii~ rolls off Yuuri’s tongue.
‘I wish- I wish I could be here all the time,’ Yuuri sighs, sounding so blissfully out of it that Victor catches fever it sets him so hot. Yuuri rocks back against Victor, raising up on his elbows. The angle seems better, as Yuuri stops for a moment to catch his breath and he squeezes so tight around Victor’s cock Victor sees stars. ‘I wish you were fucking me always.’
‘Yuuri~’ Victor cries, which is impressive in itself as now Yuuri’s mouth is open and he’s speaking nothing but filth. Whining, moaning and almost singing happy with how he loves how Victor’s cock fills him, how good Victor’s come is inside of him. Victor can feel it coming- Yuuri is trembling, his hands ashen he’s clenching fists so tight. Can see Yuuri’s body gripping on Victor’s cock in bursts.
Yuuri is going to come, he’s going to come soon and Victor just can’t stop- he just can’t stop because it feels so good. Everything about it has set Victor on fire, has turned to liquid gasoline arousal waiting to burn in his belly and Victor fucks Yuuri through it, pistons harder as Yuuri mewls happily. Coy little wretch- Yuuri always gets what he sodding wants.
Victor had seen it coming, but when Yuuri comes, it shocks Victor out of himself anyway. It’s impossibly tight, where Yuuri clamps down on him and Yuuri almost screams. He wails like an animal wounded and lets his body be swayed against the force of Victor still moving behind him. Victor can’t see his face from here, Yuuri has turned away but his back ripples like water. His hands fidget, scrape. His nails make eshhhh noises against the cotton.
Everything in this moment is Yuuri’s body welcoming Victor, pulling at him and wanting Victor to stay where he is- buried balls deep and almost crying because it feels so good almost too good for Victor get himself over that edge that’s turned back on him like a knife, cutting pleasure deep so it bleeds.
‘You- you are so fucking gorgeous,’ Victor pants, his thrusts getting unsteady. Frantic. Victor wants to come so badly. Yuuri doesn’t say anything, but he flops down low against the bed, pushing his ass back. Yuuri turns his head, pink lips parted and his dark eyes watching Victor like coals cracking red with fire flame.
‘Fla-flatter oh!’ Yuuri replies, squeezing his eyes shut as Victor fucks him sloppy and hard and good. He’s sensitive, Victor knows, but Yuuri doesn’t seem to want to show it. Yuuri is just as eager, just as needy as he was when they started and Victor just looks at him. Just watches his dark eyebrows, his button nose scrunched in pleasure.
Victor will never admit it, but it’s the adorable little nose that does it.
Victor’s orgasm punches the air right out of him. He whites out, his heart stops, (or feels like), as he spends deep into Yuuri, who moans in obvious and kittenish satisfaction as he does. Victor tries not to collapse down onto Yuuri’s back, catching himself just in time as he struggles to get himself together. It takes… longer than it probably should, but Victor feels that’s entirely Yuuri’s fault for being so himself.
How is Victor supposed to resist that, after all?
Victor pulls out with a wince, only because everything feels like the nerves have been scraped down a fine few centimetres so they’re raw. There’s a sticky, warm mess left behind and they’re going to need to shower. Soon. But for now, Victor flops down on the bed next to Yuuri and laments for maybe the hundredth time he can’t turn the sodding rad off, as he’d kill for a blast of cool air just to temper the fire Yuuri has set him on.
A finger pokes Victor on the temple and Victor opens his eyes, not even realising he’d closed them to turn and look at a very smug Katsuki Yuuri, who looks terribly like the blind cat that got the cream, as he squints with a vampy smile up at Victor. ‘Hi.’
‘Don’t hi me,’ Victor grins back, starting to laugh beside himself. ‘You know what you did.’
‘I did nothing,’ Yuuri says blithely, shrugging his tan shoulders in a manner that suggested that he knew exactly what he did. Victor turns over, kissing any part of Yuuri he could reach. Yuuri sighs with contentment. ‘Carry me to the shower.’
‘I will not,’ Victor snorts, knowing that he probably will. Yuuri opens his eyes just to glare, which is still effective despite Yuuri not having his glasses. ‘You can walk from the bed to the en-suite, love.’
‘Can’t,’ Yuuri says primly, wiggling slightly. ‘Legs don’t work.’ Yuuri cracks one eye open, all coy again. ‘Fiancé did me too well.’
The choice of English does funny things to Victor’s stomach, but even Yuuri’s cheeky little tease isn’t enough to quite bring Victor’s cock back from the dead just yet. Victor starts to disentangle himself, much to Yuuri’s chagrin going by the unhappy whinge that builds in his throat as Victor moves away. ‘Come on, I’ll run you a bath.’
This perks Yuuri up a little. He looks considering for a moment. ‘Can we use the salts from home?’
Victor smiles, cooing gently as Yuuri does indeed start to peel himself off the destroyed sheets with a slight wince. ‘Yes. Anything you like. And then I’ll make you breakfast.’
‘Wow,’ Yuuri says, standing up on unsteady feet and sinking against Victor’s chest. Victor lets him, lets Yuuri melt and wrap his arms around Victor’s waist despite the sweat and the heat of the room. Victor wants to hold Yuuri always. ‘We should have a morning workout more often if I’m going to get what I want like this.’
‘Right, because you get what you want so rarely?’ Victor asks, kissing the top of Yuuri’s head as he bends down, just enough to encourage Yuuri up into his arms so he can carry Yuuri the four steps to the bathroom- just like Yuuri asked.
Victor knows he's created a monster here, that as a coach and possibly competitor, he really shouldn't encourage such dreadful behaviour. But as a fiancé, Victor really can't knock the way Yuuri kisses his neck when cradled there. Spoiled minx that Yuuri is, Victor is only too happy to keep him that way.