Work Text:
Yuuri opened his eyes slowly, brushing off the veil of sleep.
For a moment he wondered where he was, but that was a feeling he was used to. He had been in so many different countries, in so many different cities, in so many different hotel rooms, that the unfamiliarity itself became familiar.
He was looking at a large window, just past sunrise, he suspected. The sky looked like a watercolour, with muted orange and vibrant pink blending into each other seamlessly as birds glided through the sky effortlessly. The aspect was fuzzy without his glasses, but that made the colours seem even more engaging. Yuuri took a few moments just to enjoy the view; the birds – gulls, he now noted from their cries – reminding him of home.
Barcelona, he remembered.
Feeling a little more awake but still groggy, he turned in the comfortable bed. His muscles singed after such a gruelling lead-up to the Grand Prix Final, but for today at least, he knew he could rest.
The sunrise was casting the room in an orange glow on the far side, the sheets still shadowed from where the star had not yet reached its peak in the sky to greet them. Everything was quiet and still in the room, and Yuuri felt truly peaceful.
His head lolled to the left, and then he realised he was not alone.
He was so used to waking up by himself in hotel rooms over the years that he had allowed, just for a moment, to forget that there was someone else here Yuuri now shared his life with.
Thick strands of a silver fringe fell over a serene sleeping face, small huffs of relaxed breaths falling from a slightly agape mouth, closed lids blanketing what Yuuri knew to be beautiful aquamarine eyes. Yuuri allowed his gaze to trail, following down a smooth pale neck, the relaxed curves of muscular arms, and landing on an outstretched hand. Even in his sleep, the man next to him seemed to be reaching out to him, and Yuuri smiled down at the gold band on his ring finger, glinting as the rising sun hit it.
He stole a glance down at his own hand, the security of it remaining in place spreading him with warmth, then returned his gaze to the sleeping man. Yuuri slid back down under the sheets, turning now to face him fully. The sky outside was stunning… but his fiancé even more so.
Viktor Nikiforov, the man whose face had adorned so many posters on his walls for more years than he’d care to admit, was sleeping next to him. He was his coach, his fiancé, everything and more he had ever wished for.
Yuuri reached out and brushed his hair out of his face, desperate to be able to see more of him. He tucked the platinum locks behind his ear, then trailed lazy circles on his shoulder with his fingertips. Sometimes he wished he could draw, just so he could attempt to capture how stunning Viktor looked… especially when he was still like this. But there was nothing to think about right now other than the perfectness of the moment, of them. Yuuri smiled to himself.
There was a flutter of eyelashes, then those impossibly blue eyes were looking up at him… sleep heavy and adjusting to the dim sunlight.
“Ohayo”, Viktor mumbled, his accent thick and heavy.
“Good morning to you, too”, Yuuri returned with a loving smile.
“Russian.” Viktor demanded, shifting his weight fully on to his side to look at Yuuri. They had been trying to accustom themselves with each other’s mother tongues. Yuuri’s brows furrowed for a moment, trying to recall the unfamiliar words.
“Dubroy utro…?” he asked, hesitantly.
“Da.” Viktor smiled. “How long have you been awake? I hope you slept.”
Viktor was stretching his arm out with a yawn now, but his face remained scrunched in concern for Yuuri.
“I did, I promise. I’ve just woke up.”
“Horosho.”
Viktor’s outstretched arm curved around and found itself on Yuuri’s face.
“Wow; you look beautiful in this light.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
They smiled, happy and familiar with each other, and Viktor pulled Yuuri down into a kiss. His lips were dry and his breath stale from sleep, but neither cared.
It was a calm moment of domesticity, of two men who knew and loved each other intimately, who wanted to spend their lives together, and for the most part had already begun to entwine their lives and careers.
Viktor and Yuuri had become more than coach and student just over a month ago, and since the very first day, Yuuri had relished being able to wake next to Viktor. Not from a bed on the other side of the room, but in the same one, right next to him. Often he would awaken and forget, for just a second, everything that had happened between them. But then he would turn and see his face, and Yuuri would once again question how this could possibly be his life.
But Yuuri was facing a problem right now. Because for how beautiful and perfect this moment was, his body was reacting in entirely the wrong way.
Despite it having been about eight months that he and Viktor had spent together, they had only been like this for one. It was, for all intents and purposes, a new relationship… and the men had certainly been treating it as such in all respects. Yuuri’s hunger was not yet sated.
So as Viktor kissed him, warm and drowsy and relaxed in the still-dim sunrise, Yuuri felt himself pushing back harder than warranted, his hand finding and clutching at Viktor’s hip. Viktor usually had something to say when Yuuri was like this. He would quip at how forward he was, playfully question what he wanted… but today he stayed silent, allowing himself to fall onto his back again as Yuuri moved over him.
When Yuuri found himself pushed up on his arms with Viktor below him, he allowed his tongue to tease between their lips. Viktor’s mouth opened, silently granting Yuuri’s wish, and he deepened their kiss, slowly rolling his tongue over the other’s. Viktor moaned, and Yuuri felt it course through his body and down to his groin. If there were any doubts before about how he intended things to go, they were obliterated now.
He moved away, trailing his lips across his fiancé’s jaw and down to his neck, where he nipped hungrily. His left hand smoothed over the curves of Viktor’s abdomen and chest before finding a nipple, which he rolled between thumb and forefinger experimentally. Viktor’s breath hitched, and Yuuri took it as assent to the action. But he wanted more.
Now came the part that Yuuri hated. He wanted Viktor, he wanted him so badly… but he had to ask. And asking for what he wanted was not his strong suit. He swallowed nervously, then whispered in Viktor’s ear; “Can I touch you?”
Viktor knew that Yuuri was nervous when doing things like this, and he was forever grateful that his partner would always swallow his pride and seek to hear consent. In the past, others had not given him the same courtesy. He took Yuuri’s head in his hands, bringing his face up toward his so they could look directly into each other’s eyes.
“Yes, Yuuri. You can touch me wherever you want. I’m yours.”
Yuuri smiled, a little embarrassed and wholly grateful, then dipped down once more.
He peppered kisses down Viktor’s chest, his abdomen, and paused once he reached the tuft of silver hair at his groin. He found it both incredibly erotic and nerve-wracking that Viktor always slept naked, seemingly never able to shake his mind from the thought as he tried to sleep each night.
Yuuri looked down at the now familiar sight of Viktor, only half-hard as he struggled to shake off sleep. He brought his hand up, cupped it around the base of his shaft, then took him in his mouth. It felt a little strange that he was not fully erect, but it was not an unwelcome sensation, and Yuuri was most certainly rectifying it. Viktor shifted his hips and moaned as he grew in Yuuri’s mouth, allowing himself to fall into arousal.
Yuuri’s movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue heavy and pressing. Once Viktor was fully hard, his right hand moved away from the base of his dick, allowing Yuuri room to push Viktor into his throat. The Russian moaned, louder than anticipated, beneath him… and the noise travelled straight to Yuuri’s cock. His hand moved now to grab at Viktor’s ass, and then he worked his finger around and into the crease. Viktor spread his legs, inviting him. Yuuri’s finger worked in lazy circles around his fiancé’s entrance, as he continued to suck his length.
Viktor was bearing down at Yuuri’s touch, and then in realisation, his body shifted a little as his arms reached over, searching for something at the side of him which Yuuri couldn’t see given his current activity. Something was pressed into his left hand, and he stopped momentarily to see the clear tube Viktor had put there. He followed untold direction, opening it and squeezing a small amount onto his right fingers. As Viktor lay back down, Yuuri swirled his tongue around his head, as two slick fingers pushed into him simultaneously. Viktor accepted him easily, and Yuuri began to work, undoing his partner with every lick, every thrust.
Suddenly there were fingers in his hair, pulling only a little painfully, to move Yuuri faster on Viktor’s dick. He allowed himself to be moved, putting all concentration into the third finger he was working into his lover, as Viktor pulled and pushed to bob Yuuri’s head. But after only a few moments, the hand was gone, and Viktor seemed to be pulling away from touch.
Yuuri stopped immediately.
“More?” he asked with hesitation.
“Kiss me.” Viktor answered.
Yuuri crawled up the bed and kissed his fiancé tenderly. His eyes fluttered closed, and all he could think about was Viktor’s lips on his, and the perfect heat of his body beneath him. He was deliberately keeping his hips raised, careful not to brush themselves together. Viktor had, without words, seemed to ask him to stop, and so Yuuri was careful to do so.
But Viktor’s hands wandered, finding Yuuri’s ass and pulling him down toward him. His tongue pushed into Yuuri’s mouth forcefully, and his fingers fumbled with the waistband of his partner’s briefs, trying desperately to unsheathe him.
They moved quickly, Yuuri’s underwear off within a few seconds as they still attempted to eagerly kiss each other between movements. Sparks flew as their bodies finally connected, brushing the sensitive skin of their shafts against each other.
Everything stopped. They lost their breath, they stopped frantically touching, they stopped kissing. Viktor looked intently into his lover’s eyes. Not taking his eyes from Yuuri, he reached down to his hand and placed the square foil into it, then brought his right leg up, hooking it over Yuuri’s shoulder.
Yuuri said nothing. Viktor continued to stare at his face, and Yuuri expertly slid the condom onto his own length, before slicking the lubricant over him, careful not to bring it too low. He pressed against Viktor, who he could tell was awaiting him anxiously. He bit his lip as he looked down at the Russian, the words playing on his tongue. But before he could say anything, Viktor was already answering.
“Yes. Yuuri, take me.”
And with that, Yuuri pressed into the searing heat that was Viktor.
Once they found themselves flush against each other, Yuuri allowed himself to fall down onto Viktor a little. He was still a little tired, his muscles still a little weary from competition. He allowed Viktor to take his body weight, confident that he could, and began to thrust.
Viktor’s right hand clutched at the back of Yuuri’s head, his fingers stroking through the strands encouragingly. Yuuri’s face was buried into the crook of his shoulder.
The sheets were warm, Viktor’s body hot, and the arousal that coursed through them both was electrifying. The hairs on Viktor’s calf tickled Yuuri’s shoulder, but all he could think about was how deep he was inside of his love, and how good it felt, and how badly he wanted to undo him. Yuuri moved faster, deepening the thrusts as he felt Viktor clench around him.
Yuuri had discovered the night he lost his virginity to his idol that Viktor was not a silent lover. He liked to moan, he liked to talk, he would near scream if warranted. And despite the early hour of day, Viktor seemed to be making no exceptions, moaning loudly into the air above them as Yuuri bottomed out. And Yuuri had also discovered that hearing Viktor like this could undo him quickly.
He was close. His stomach dropped low into his groin and his balls tightened, his pace quickening almost subconsciously. He had managed to curl his arms under Viktor’s back now, his fingertips gripping his shoulders. Yuuri moved his face back to look at Viktor… wanting to see those moans escaping from his mouth as he fucked him hard.
Viktor shifted himself, now pulling his left leg up high and clutching onto it himself to keep it in position. As he did so, his face scrunched into a silent scream, and Yuuri knew that he was now hitting Viktor where he so desperately needed it most. And that was all it took.
One look at Viktor’s face like that and Yuuri was coming, groaning against him, pulsing into him as he heard their bodies slap against each other. And Viktor knew, and was imploring him:
“Yuuri, Yuuri! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”
And so Yuuri tried to keep pace, tried to keep fucking Viktor thoroughly as he trembled beneath him, so close to the precipice. Yuuri was desperate to push him over.
But as Yuuri’s orgasm ebbed and being inside of Viktor’s clenched walls bordered on the discomfort of oversensitivity, Viktor loosened, coming with a silent scream that tried to claw from his throat. Out of instinct, Yuuri kept going, fucking him as hard as he could until he saw Viktor once again able to breathe, before slowing to a stop.
They usually stayed like that for a few minutes, but this morning Yuuri pulled out of him immediately, too sensitive to remain. Viktor stayed still, trying to catch his breath, to refocus his vision as he stared at the ceiling, whilst Yuuri sat and slipped off the condom. He walked, unsteady on over-exerted legs, to the bathroom. He discarded the latex in the small metal bin, then wet a flannel before wiping himself down as he looked in the mirror. Yuuri’s body was flushed all over, Viktor’s semen smeared into his abdomen where they had been pressed so tightly together, sweat flattening his hair to his head. After wiping himself down, he threw some cold water over his face, and pushed his hair back. He rinsed the flannel through again with warm water, then returned to the room.
The sky was clear and blue now, signalling what would be a beautiful winter’s day in Spain. Yuuri crawled back onto the bed, and cleaned his lover. Viktor smiled up at him, his face completely relaxed now, his eyes heavy. Yuuri smiled back, putting the flannel on the table beside them before slipping back down next to Viktor on the bed and pulling the previously cast away sheets over them. Yuuri was lower than him now, nestled into his arms with his face half-pressed into his chest.
“Dubroy utro, lyubov moya”, he whispered.