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Talk to Me

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"Я думаю, что ты прав."

Yuuri peered over the bundled edge of his comforter and stared at Viktor's back. He was perched on the side of the bed, spine slightly curved and phone cradled against his ear.

He chuckled, low and warm, and Yuuri felt a reflexive burn crawl across his cheeks. Viktor's words were impossibly quick, the easy roll of his tongue threading between syllables that whispered between his teeth and echoed at the back of his throat. The range of sounds was enough to leave Yuuri in a wondered stupor. It was also enough to raise the hair on his arms, and imagine the whispered breaths next to his ear. It didn't matter what he was saying, only that it was those beautifully woven words spoken in that far too silky voice.

Yuuri watched Viktor's shoulders from where he'd embedded himself in the sheets. There was something uneasy in his chest, but it wasn't a feeling he couldn’t quite identify. Eventually they reached a close in their conversation, and with a few more laughs Viktor spoke a farewell into the phone and lowered the phone from his face.

"Sorry, Yuuri!" he said, immediately abandoning the phone on the bedside table and turning around. "I didn't mean to talk for so long."

"Oh, it's okay," Yuuri spoke meekly into the blankets.

Viktor flopped on his side, one arm supporting the weight of his head, "Are you okay?" His face was still genial, but he was blinking at Yuuri with his usual focus, "You look sad." 

Yuuri's eyes slid off to the side, "No, nothing like that..."


"Say, Viktor..." Yuuri tried, still decidedly not looking at him. "Who were you talking to, just now?"

His answer was cheery, "One of my old friends back in St. Petersburg."

Yuuri's legs shifted beneath the sheets, "Ah, I see."

Viktor's mouth curved down, concern writing itself across his face, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason..."

"No reason?"

"No reason."

Viktor narrowed his eyes at him, "Yuuri..."

Yuuri ignored how his heart surged in his chest at the way his name rolled off Viktor's tongue. "What were you talking about?" he asked, his voice feeble and betraying.

Viktor shrugged his unoccupied shoulder, "Nothing much, just catching up a little."

"Oh." Yuuri's eyes remained intent on the wall across from the bed.

"You're acting far too strange, Yuuri."

"It's just..." How could he fit these words together properly?


"The way you were talking..." Yuuri tried, squirming uncomfortably. "It sounded so..."

Viktor waited.

Yuuri slowly pulled the covers farther up on his face, squeezing his eyes closed, "... shshml." There was a pause.


Yuuri turned his head toward the mattress even though his eyes were still closed, "Senshml."

"I'm fairly certain that's neither Japanese nor English."

"SEXUAL!" Yuuri shouted over the edge of the covers. His voice rang against the walls, and he sealed his mouth back into a perfect line. The following silence made Yuuri want to open his eyes just as badly as it made him want to never open them again. Eventually he yielded, breaking apart the hard pinch of his eyelids to take in Viktor's expression.

He looked... surprised.

Wide blue eyes blinked at Yuuri's face, "Really?"

"Aahg!" Yuuri slammed his face into the pillow.

There was a bouncing shift of weight, and suddenly a silky voice was at Yuuri's ear, "Hey Yuuri, is it possible you like when I speak Russian?"

Yuuri groaned.

Viktor's lips ghosted right beneath Yuuri's ear, gently sliding over the sensitive flesh of his neck, "I can speak Russian to you, if you like." Viktor nuzzled behind the shell of Yuuri's ear, lips moving. It was a whisper, but the syllables vibrated between teeth and lip, rolled off his tongue, and gusted breath across skin so alight with nerves that Yuuri could feel every word in his spine.

He tried not to let the small noise in his throat go, biting down on his lower lip and pressing his face harder into the pillow. "What did you say?" he managed.

"Oh," Viktor chuckled, the sound warm and husky. "I said the fried rice you made for lunch yesterday was beyond compare."

Yuuri stayed very still. "You're the worst," he decided miserably.

"Here," Viktor said, pressing a kiss behind Yuuri's ear. "Let me try again." Yuuri tried not to shudder and failed, but Viktor was speaking again. His voice was rough and silky, like a steady flow of sand over river stones, and it had a rumbling depth to it that Yuuri almost never heard when he spoke English. Yuuri wished he was less moved by the sounds than he was. As it stood he was fighting off the urge to gasp and bow against the mattress; so hungry for the words he wanted to press his skin more flush against the movements of Viktor's mouth.

"Wh..." Yuuri swallowed and exhaled slowly, then tried again, "What did you say that time?"

"I said," Viktor purred, "that I wanted to print my teeth on every stretch of bare flesh you have, then take you into my mouth and taste you over and over until you can't stand it, swallowing you down and relishing the flavor."

Yuuri wasn't sure he'd ever become so hard so quickly in his twenty-three years of existence.

Viktor spoke against Yuuri's jaw as his kissed it, "Is that better?"

"That..." Yuuri wasn't quite sure about the whole 'words' thing at the moment. The concept was a tad far removed from him.

Viktor tugged on Yuuri's shoulder, coercing him to roll over. "But," he said, sliding his thigh between Yuuri's legs and positioning himself above him. He dipped down, lightly biting at the skin of Yuuri's neck, "You have to be open and free with all your little words and cries. All those little noises..."

"Viktor," Yuuri said, the word attached to nothing else, no other thought or instruction. Just 'Viktor'.

"Yes, like that," Viktor encouraged, nuzzling into the dip of Yuuri's shoulder. “And…” his fingers began to slide downward, ruffling at the edge of Yuuri's shirt, "Talk to me, Yuuri."

Yuuri's eyes were closed, but his forehead still creased, "What?"

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," Viktor rumbled against his neck, teeth lightly catching against the flesh before sucking it into his mouth.

Yuuri groaned, hips arching up and grinding friction against the resistance of Viktor's thigh.

"In Japanese."

This time Yuuri blinked his eyes open. "Huh? But you don’t know Japanese?”

Viktor paused to cant his head ever so slightly to the side, "And you don’t know Russian."

Yuuri shook his head, "Yeah, but..."

"No buts," Viktor resumed, his fingers slipping under Yuuri's shirt and grazing almost tickling sensation over his skin. "I love how you sound when you speak it. I love the way it sounds in your voice." Yuuri's breath shook from his throat as Viktor's fingers ventured higher. The touch was still feather-light, but it wracked Yuuri's nerves and lit up his senses bright and blinding. "Your even weight on every syllable," Viktor whispered, fingertips brushing over his ribcage, "the perfect roll of your tongue," he pulled Yuuri's earlobe into his mouth, sucking gently, "your delicate breaths between lips." The arch of Yuuri's back was climbing ever higher, his hips tilting even more firmly into Viktor's leg.

"Aah," Yuuri exhaled, the noise coming unwillingly but too easily. "It’s nothing so interesting..."

"It’s beautiful," Viktor responded in a deep whisper.

"Mm," Yuuri yielded a small noise as Viktor's fingers circled his nipple.

"Will you?"

Yuuri's eyes fluttered open, but he wasn't seeing beyond the fog in his vision, "Will I what?"

"Talk to me. Let me hear you." Viktor ran the pad of his thumb over Yuuri's nipple.

Yuuri pursed his lips, fingers trembling. "Yes," he exhaled in Japanese.

Viktor pinched and Yuuri's back immediately bowed, a sharp moan lifting from his mouth and hitting against the walls. "Good start," Viktor purred. He began to push the t-shirt up, tugging cotton upward until Yuuri took the hint and pulled it over his head.

When Yuuri’s shoulders resettled against the bed, he spoke, "You too."

Viktor looked up in surprise. Yuuri's cheeks were burning, but he stayed focused on Viktor's face. "You take your clothes off too," he directed.

Viktor smiled, pleased and lopsided, “Okay.” He rose to his knees where he was stationed between Yuuri's legs, and pulled his shirt over the spread of his shoulders. Yuuri was always caught a little breathless by the simple sight of him. It didn't matter how often or intimately he saw it; the perfect sculpt of muscle over pecs and hips was artful, the shoulder to waist ratio walking an impossible balance of lithe and powerful. He wanted to touch always and everywhere, the urge refusing to diminish. Skillfully, he believed, he kept his hands to himself.

Viktor reached down, tucking his fingers under the waistband of Yuuri's pants and boxers. Yuuri unthinkingly lifted his hips.

Viktor peeled the clothes from his limbs with shining eyes, moving the fabric agonizingly slow. Yuuri felt the cotton and elastic drag over every centimeter of his skin. His face blazed red when the head of his cock cleared the waistband, and even more so when it was stripped of fabric entirely. The cool air around the heat of his length was striking, but somehow welcome.

"Already," Viktor purred, pulling the clothing off his feet and dropping it to the ground. Yuuri would have been embarrassed if Viktor hadn't been staring at him like he wanted to devour him, lips parting softly and eyes glazing over with heat.

"You now," Yuuri said, proud of the even keel of his voice. His limbs were wracked with tiny shivers, excited and exposed and crying out for touch. But he didn't want to sound nearly as desperate as he felt, especially under the weight of Viktor's searching eyes.

Viktor's expression only grew more coy, thumbs hooking under his own waistband and pulling it downward. He was apparently fair in his taunting, dragging his own clothing down with infuriating slowness. This only perturbed Yuuri further, as he was somehow more desperate to see Viktor freed than to be freed himself.

When the pink of Viktor's head peeked above fabric, Yuuri felt his chest flush hot. He watched, teeth dug into lip, as Viktor allowed the full weight of his cock to bob forward. The flushed skin and thickened shaft stirred up memories and ghosts of sensations; he remembered how it felt to fill and be filled, the different quivers from stretching and being stretched, and for a moment Yuuri could do nothing but tip back his head and moan from deep in his chest.

"That," Viktor whispered, allowing his pants to fall to his knees entirely, "is too good of a reaction."

Yuuri opened his eyes, tilting his head back forward, "Yours too." He smirked as Viktor kicked his pants away and blinked up him, "'Already'."

Viktor chuckled, heavily leaning the weight of his palms back on the bed and hovering over Yuuri, "What can I say? It's the noises you make."

He dipped down and kissed at Yuuri's neck once before biting into it, and as his teeth slowly added pressure, Yuuri's hips slowly lifted. He licked at the prints left behind before moving on, smattering kisses over Yuuri's chest before deciding on a new place to bite down.

Yuuri grunted, hips rocking upward, and Viktor purred something in Russian against his skin. The vibrations sunk into his flesh and tingled at the base of his spine, eliciting the first drop of precum to rise from his slit.

Viktor didn't notice, of course. He was busy sliding his cheek along Yuuri's pec, inhaling against him before pressing a tender kiss against Yuuri's nipple. The resulting shiver knocked breath from Yuuri's throat, and his hand instinctively curled into the comforter. Viktor opened his mouth, sliding his tongue over the pink flesh before gently sucking it into his mouth.

Yuuri moaned, back arching, "Aah, that's--"

 Viktor shot a quick look up through his lashes. "Japanese," he reminded.

"O-Oh," Yuuri breathed, processing words slowly. "Right."

He moved on, dragging lips and kisses and teeth all the way down Yuuri's abdomen. When he neared Yuuri's cock he kissed around it, so near Yuuri could feel the heat of him. Viktor slid his hand under the crook of Yuuri's knee, delicately lifting and spreading the thigh wider. Yuuri was trembling, and when Viktor first kissed the inside of his knee he couldn't help but whimper against the cover of his hand. Viktor pulled the hand away from Yuuri's mouth, giving him a pointed expression with even sharper blue eyes.

There must have been understanding on Yuuri's face because Viktor moved on, kissing and biting down the whole length of Yuuri's inner thigh. By the time he got to the seam of his thigh, Yuuri's chest was heaving. Viktor lifted his lips, speaking so closely to Yuuri's length that he could feel the hot of his breath against him, "Remember to be honest with your voice, Yuuri."

He dragged the soft of his cheek up Yuuri's length, shocking sensation through Yuuri's limbs. Then he reached the tip and gingerly pressed his lips into the collected beads of precum, spreading them over the head as his lips parted and sunk down around it. 

The heat of Viktor's mouth was blistering, and that was before he began dragging his tongue in slow circles around the head.  Yuuri had to fight not to compulsively cover his mouth, and when he let go of a breathless, "God," he was rewarded by a vibrating hum around his cock.

Yuuri groaned as Viktor ventured lower, taking more and more of him into his mouth until there was nowhere left to go. He started pulling himself into a rhythm then, first slow and taunting with small licks under the ridge of his shaft. Yuuri had to actively try and keep his hips under control, the urge to buck into the warm heat of Viktor's mouth a constant temptation. In time Viktor began to increase his pace, dragging friction-pink lips over the slick of Yuuri's shaft like he adored it.

Yuuri's thighs were tingling, and he soon became grateful for the instruction to speak in Japanese. Japanese was reflexive and honest, easy on his disjointed mind and even easier on his tongue. It was also a curtain; the weight and meaning of each uttered word and moan and "God, perfect" sometimes slipping beyond Viktor's understanding and leaving Yuuri with less embarrassment.

 Then there was a shock, the light scrape of teeth dragging up Yuuri's shaft and catching at the plush edge of his cockhead. Something half growl and half moan raked from Yuuri's throat, hitching on rough syllables as his back arched to seek out more of that glancing friction.

"Yes," Yuuri breathed, reaching down to tangle his fingers in the silver of Viktor's hair, "perfect, like that, again."

There were a few more slow dips of Viktor's head before he bared his teeth, dragging just a little harder against the over-slick skin.

"Yes, Viktor," Yuuri's head tipped back, fingers flexing against Viktor's scalp without thought. Viktor growled against him, the low notes of his voice seeping into Yuuri's veins and lighting them with fire.

Viktor began moving more quickly then, and it wasn't until Yuuri felt some shifting against the mattress that he spared a glance downward. He was immediately reminded why he kept his eyes elsewhere; the pale sweep of Viktor's lashes and crimson burn on his lips paired with his mouth wrapped so beautifully and devout around Yuuri's cock was almost enough to make him cum immediately. But once Yuuri could see past shadowed eyes and sharp cheekbones he could also see that Viktor was touching himself, long and delicate fingers wrapped around a cock that was currently dripping precum onto the comforter.

Yuuri groaned, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut. He could feel the mounting tension at the base of his cock, could feel the static collecting in his thighs and singeing the sense at the tips of his fingers.

"Viktor," he wheezed.

Viktor purred.

"No," Yuuri tried, shaking himself free of Japanese for a moment. "Viktor, stop, I'm going to--"

An awning of silver lashes cast dangerous shadows over clear blue eyes. "I know," he responded, pulling himself away. He dragged his tongue up Yuuri's length, slow and showy. When he reached the end he spoke in low tones, "I said I was going to swallow you down, remember."

Yuuri's hips twitched. He bit at his lip and pretended he hadn't fantasized about this exact thing dozens of times, told himself that every act with Viktor was a reenactment of a fantasy, somehow.

"I know," Yuuri breathed. "But Viktor." Viktor's thumb was tracing over his own slit, smearing clear liquid over flushed skin. Yuuri swallowed, "I want to come with you."

Something in Viktor's face changed, something animal just beneath the surface of his skin. "You don't have to worry about me," he said in a husky voice that didn’t match the innocent slope of his mouth in the least.

"I'm not," Yuuri told him almost coldly, eyes hard.

Viktor's mouth broke into an honest smile then, amused and hungry. "Okay," he said. "But only if you keep up your promise." He began crawling upward, the bed dipping under the shift of his weight. He lowered himself, not stopping until their cocks were pressed together. Yuuri shook beneath him, hips tilting up greedily in search of more him.

Viktor kept his weight on his left shoulder as his right hand wandered downward, slipping between their bodies until he found their cocks. "Talk to me Yuuri," he whispered, wrapping his strong fingers around the both of them.

Yuuri gasped, the heat and slide of Viktor against him creating a firework of sensations throughout his legs. "Okay," Yuuri said, steadying himself.

"Japanese," Viktor instructed, burying his mouth in the crook of Yuuri's neck.

"Right," Yuuri said, falling into his native language. His eyelashes fluttered, unsure of what to say. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It didn't matter what he said, right? Viktor wouldn't understand it, so...

Yuuri leaned his head toward Viktor, speaking softly against the fall of his hair and the curve of his ear, "I want to come with you, Viktor."

Viktor hummed his satisfaction, and rewarded them both by swinging his hips forward. They gasped at the first glide of shared contact, their cocks working against each other as Viktor's hand stroked over them in unison.

"God that feels good." Yuuri loved being so close to him; he could hear every catch of breath in his chest, every note of voice that managed to stick to an exhale or carry into a moan.

"More," Viktor groaned, Yuuri’s skin and the blankets catching most of the noise. His hips were still undulating against him, graceful and primal all at once.

Yuuri inhaled sharply. He decided to melt it all away; his pride or embarrassment or whatever was clinging to the back of his throat. "I used to think about you," he said, voice strained over a suppressed moan. "At home, alone, hand wrapped around myself."

Viktor moaned, low and needy, his hips shuddering in their motions.

"I used to think about-- Aah!" his hips jumped, earning extra sensation against his head from Viktor’s hand. "About how it would look with your mouth wrapped around me," his breathing picked up, the ache in his thighs mounting again. "Or how you'd sound when you were hard and throbbing."

Viktor hissed something Yuuri couldn’t make out, his shoulders trembling.

"I used to think about sitting on your lap," Yuuri whispered, voice grown raspy, syllables shaking as heat spread through his veins. "And you fingering me until I came all over your abs and chest." His voice caught and Yuuri had to moan, the squeeze of Viktor's fingers growing tighter. Viktor was heaving for oxygen, small noises escaping his throat with every grind of his hips.

"I got myself off over and over again thinking of what you'd feel like inside me," Yuuri spoke the words and Viktor groaned, guttural and uninhibited, his hips stuttering out of rhythm as they slid against Yuuri. “Over and over,” Yuuri repeated, “filling me up.” Viktor was beginning to shake, almost violently, his breaths gone ragged. “Clenching around you…” Yuuri was starting to lose focus, his own body rattling beneath the press of Viktor, “Filling you…”

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed. “Yuuri.

Making you come.”

Viktor’s hips jerked hard, and with a low groan he came, pouring warm all over their lengths and across Yuuri’s stomach.

Yuuri gasped, the reality of it, the good of it, the sound of Viktor’s broken moans cresting and breaking over his limbs all at once. He came before Viktor could even finish his own, bucking up sharp and hard as his fingers dug viciously into the sheets.

There were some long shaking moments, tremors filling through their bodies as they breathed against each other. Yuuri slowly settled, allowing his body to turn heavy and languid against the mattress. Viktor sagged against him, eventually giving up on supporting his own weight entirely.

Yuuri squeaked as Viktor’s full weight bore down on him, squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Viktor,” he gasped. He gently shook Viktor’s shoulders, “Viktor.”

“Mmm,” Viktor hummed, almost petulantly. “Sleepy. Hungry.”

Choking,” Yuuri countered.

Viktor lazily lifted his head, bangs falling messy over his eyes. “Oh, sorry,” he said, shifting his weight off of Yuuri.

Yuuri took a large inhale, filling his lungs with their much needed oxygen.

“Sticky,” Viktor commented lowly to himself, examining the expanse of skin he’d just had pressed against Yuuri’s stomach. He reached down from the bed and grabbed a discarded shirt, using it to carefully wipe the slick from his and Yuuri’s bodies.

“Thank you,” Yuuri mumbled, mouth moving slow and tired.

“Mhmmm,” was Viktor’s amiable response, his hum making his smile apparent even though Yuuri couldn’t see his face. He flopped back down on the bed, nuzzling into the back of Yuuri’s neck. They laid there for an indiscernible time, Yuuri’s consciousness slowly fading out into something quiet and black.

“Say, Yuuri.”

The voice at the back of his neck was soft. “Hm?”

“You’ll have to tell me sometime. In English.”

Yuuri tipped his head, “Tell you what?”

“What exactly you used to think about. When you were at home. Alone.”

Yuuri slowly opened his eyes.

“What my mouth was doing, exactly.”

There was a very long moment, filled with nothing but a ring permeating Yuuri’s ears and a hot flush washing over his face.


‘Mortified’ didn’t seem like a strong enough word for Yuuri at the moment. “You,” he began, staring across the room at the wall. “Understood… me?” The squeaking lilt of his voice at the end was entirely unintentional.

“Just a little! Hahah!”

I’m going to die in bed next to my partner and my idol.

“I’ve picked up some Japanese since I’ve been here with you! Aren’t you impressed!?”

Yuuri didn’t have to turn around to feel the blinding beam of a smile directed at his neck. “I’m going to die,” Yuuri whispered to the mattress.

Mmm,” Viktor nuzzled harder against his neck, “I really love it when you speak Japanese Yuuri. I’ll try and learn more!”

Yuuri buried his face against the palms of his hands, “No, please…”

“Will you tell me what you said tonight?”