"You could shut me up," JJ says, the red print of Yuri's hand still visible on his cheek. He's on his knees, his discarded shirt folded up beneath them, stripped to his briefs and looking up at Yuri with the exact same eyes that looked down at him from the podium.
Yuri's palm is still tingling. Shut up, he wants to say, shut up. If only JJ hadn't said it first. Instead, he hits JJ again, an open slap that rings out in the hotel room and snaps JJ's head back.
JJ gasps like it hurts him and tears come into his eyes. But he's glowing with more than just the blood rising in his face. He leans forward. "There's a tie on the dresser."
There's always a tie on the dresser. Always the same tie, red with gold stripes. Yuri has never seen JJ wear it in public. Yuri picks it up, pulls it through his hands. It's shiny, cheap, smooth against his skin.
"Shut up," Yuri says, he can't help it, nobody could help it. He jerks JJ's arms behind him. "Shut up. Hold still."
But JJ is already still, wrists crossed for Yuri's knot. Always obliging, never obedient.
Yuri ties JJ roughly, tight as the slippery fabric will allow. His hair falls across his face and he tries to blow it away.
JJ laughs. "You sound like a kid with a birthday cake."
"Shut UP!" Yuri drops JJ's bound hands. He drags his hair off his cheek. He wants to put his hands back on JJ, shove him off balance, straddle him and pinch his skin between his nails. But JJ likes that. He likes it too much.
"Make me shut up, kitten." JJ turns his head and smiles at Yuri over his shoulder.
Yuri grabs JJ's hair and pulls his head back. "Don't fucking call me that!" He twists his fingers, pulling as tight as he can.
JJ winces. He blinks and a few tears escape from his eyes. But he's still smiling, smiling. "I got some new ink," he says. "Look behind my ear."
"Fucker," Yuri says, even before he looks. Then he tips JJ's head and folds back his ear. And there, on JJ's actual skin, is a tiny smiling cat face and the word kitten.
"Do you like it?" JJ says.
"Fucker!" Yuri says again, yells again, so angry about the tattoo and even angrier about the desire that throbs through him like a hot red pulse of blood. Angrier about how much harder his dick gets. About how much he wants this, JJ, them. About how that bastard has one more gold medal to add to his fucking collection, another gold medal Yuri will never have in his.
"Let me play." JJ pushes his tongue out through his lips. He's hard too, his cock stretching and staining the fabric of his briefs.
Yuri remembers that cock in his hands, heavy and firm in his squeezing fingers, jerking at his touch. He thinks about it sometimes at night, when he tells himself he's dreaming, how it would feel pressing into him, opening him up. "You don't deserve to play," he says.
"Come on, kitten," JJ says. He licks his bottom lip.
Yuri darts in, can't stop it, and bends down to JJ's mouth. Bites JJ's lower lip until JJ groans. Takes JJ's face in his hands and opens up for JJ's tongue.
"Let me," JJ murmurs. "Let me suck you."
Yuri jumps away, letting go and backing against the dresser. "No," he says. "You don't get to." He feels his face burn but he puts his hand on his own dick, squeezes it through his trousers.
JJ scrabbles around on his knees and starts inching closer.
"Stop!" Yuri yells. And JJ stops, eyes dropping from Yuri's face. "You don't get to," Yuri says again. "You don't get anything."
Yuri unzips his trousers and pulls his underwear to his hips. He takes out his cock. And he jacks it, leaning back against the dresser and watching JJ watching him.
"Yuri," JJ says, half voice, half breath. He pulls against the knot, like he's trying to get free so he can pick Yuri up and throw him on the bed.
"You don't get to," Yuri says. "You don't get to say my name." He's racing, fisting his cock the way he does in bed at night, in the shower in the morning, so he'll come before JJ works the knot loose.
"Yuri," JJ says, again and again. His face is still redder where Yuri hit him. His cock is still straining against his briefs. He's still struggling with his hands, inching on his knees.
Yuri is desperate. So turned on, so hard, so nearly, nearly there, just can't quite catch it. Just need to catch it.
"Yuri." And JJ's hands come free. He throws the tie onto the floor. He stands, rubs at his wrists. "Let me," he says, and steps forward, reaching.
His fingers are nearly on Yuri's arm when Yuri catches it. Tips over the edge, rushes down like a waterfall, coming and coming over his own belly and the hem of his favourite shirt, looking into JJ's eyes.
"Don't stare," Yuri says, when the breath comes back to his lungs. He grabs tissues off the dresser and swabs himself off. Drops them on the floor and yanks up his trousers.
JJ looms over him and Yuri doesn't move fast enough to keep JJ from kissing him once and putting a hand on top of Yuri's head.
"Want to do me?" JJ says.
"As if." Yuri wrenches away and heads for the door. "Do it yourself."
JJ doesn't follow him, just stands there like he hasn't been letting Yuri hit him, like he's not hard and mostly naked. He runs a finger down behind his ear, where the cat face tattoo is. "Congratulations on silver."
"Fuck off," Yuri says and slams the door behind him.
Then he stands there, ear pressed to the door, and listens until JJ's finished getting off.