emberossing | Bear the Weight of Well-Tailored Clothes (for davaidavai)

Bear the Weight of Well-Tailored Clothes (for davaidavai)

The idea takes a while to come to fruition.

Life moves on in the meantime. The exploration of this thing that's happening between them happens, as most things do, slowly. It's not full-force training season yet, but they're ramping up, getting back in shape, spending time at the rink just working on the basics. Life isn't without it's quiet moments, but it's getting more hectic, and Yuuri has slowly expanded the list of Places in the Apartment That Feel Like Home from the bedroom to include the master bath, and the kitchen, at least, even if he often feels like something of an interloper into the space that he poured over in a magazine in the rest of the house. But it's his toothbrush in the bathroom and his favorite mug in the sink and his side of the bed, and it's good. It's better than good.

So even though he was originally thinking about it as some kind of reward for something in particular, he finds it's a more general thank you, for helping him to settle, on one of their last free days before the real training starts. Viktor's been talking about going clothes shopping for a week now, but hasn't done it yet, so when he suggests that maybe they should go, Yuuri shrugs and agrees to go with him.

Simple. Except that, with the notable exception of Barcelona, Yuuri has never said yes to going shopping for Viktor, except for grocery shopping.

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Yuuri looks incredible.

He has a point, though, about damaging the scarf. After all the work they've put into it, after how far Yuuri's reached today... and Viktor can hear the fraying edges. It's the last thing he wants.

So the kiss that comes next is gentle. Gratitude pouring warm from his lips. Then Viktor neatens the knot. Pulling it snug and reassuring against Yuuri's throat. Just enough so he can feel the press of cashmere with each breath.

"I want you," Viktor murmurs. Trailing his fingers down the scarf, then skin.

"You have me," it's somewhere between adoringly sweet and a little bit exasperated, because even though they're in no particular hurry, exactly, the orgasm in the entryway has only really taken some of the nervous edge off. Yuuri's still keyed up in a very specific way, and while he knows there are a number of outlets for that, there's only one he's interested in.

It's not that Yuuri will be upset with Viktor, if he lingers too long. It's just that he's stretched thin on a lot of things and allowing himself to be cared for is actually one of them. Which isn't a problem if Viktor wants to get rough fucked into the mattress until they're both exhausted, but if he actually wants his prize, there's a shortening window in which to claim it-- a window where Yuuri has very subtly left tying him up on the table, if Viktor is also thinking quickly enough about it.

In the next breath the scarf gets pulled free. Yuuri's wrists are crossed together over his head, fabric draping over them.

"Hold still. Unless you want to pull it."

It isn't a request any more. Even Viktor has his limits. He's all at once impatient to be inside. Fingers already trailing between Yuuri's legs, slippery with lube.

There isn't enough physical tension to hold Yuuri back. It's more the idea of it that's important.

Occasionally, it's weird how this whole "thing" works. This is one of those times. Yuuri is always a bit like an optical illusion. He seems kind of imperious and silent at first, until he stammers and blushes and it becomes obvious that he's just awkward and shy. But then... he's not really just awkward and shy, not really. Not very many people get close enough to him to see it, but he's driven, internally motivated in a way very few people are. He doesn't share easily-- not himself, not his feelings, not his doubts.

This, too, continues the illusion. This whole day has been a treat, Yuuri wanting to show Viktor how much he appreciates how hard all of this is for him-- not just the coaching, but the getting Yuuri settled, keeping him from freaking out, dealing with his weird quirks, while having to deal with all of his own worries as well. Yuuri hasn't really been in a place to help much with any of that, and he knows it. Him letting himself go a little bit, giving Viktor something he usually makes him work hard for, is a reward, and they both know it.

It's just it looks a whole lot like him fisting his hands in the pillows above his head to make sure he doesn't pull at the scarf and spreading his legs more, feet sliding up to press flat against the bed so he can push back on that first push of fingers in, show Viktor how little he needs to be careful with him at the moment more than demanding anything in particular. He flushes and closes his eyes, turning his head to the side, feeling more vulnerable than he likes, but he deliberately makes the choice to not try to fight the moan that bubbles up out of him at Viktor's touch.

Viktor is a genius.

But what most people don't realize about being a genius is the work it takes. The hours of study and determination required. Starting at a higher level means you have to keep reaching and reaching. Figuring most things out yourself, because you're so often the first.

Maybe it always would take a person like this to reach Yuuri. Viktor wouldn't claim to be a genius at him yet - but he's determined to be. Not asking for rewards, most days, because being here is accomplishment enough.

However. It is hard work, the hardest of his life. And being rewarded for it? Viktor's going to make very sure to express every inch of his gratitude. Quickly moving to two fingers. Curling them in to send a jolt up Yuuri's spine, pull out more of those noises.

He won't dwell here, like he usually would. Adding a third after only a few strokes.

Yuuri can't help that the noises that he's making sound a little pleading, but he doesn't ask for anything, just appreciates whatever Viktor is giving him.

That said, he's clearly quite pleased at the move to three fingers, his noises deepening and his hands clenching more in the pillows.

It's somewhat paradoxical, maybe, that Viktor's reward for a lot of hard work is to lie back and let him do most of the work, but it's something Viktor doesn't have to work for, and both of them understand the difference.

It is all the difference in the universe.

Viktor manages to stay at three for a few breaths. Beginning to set a pace, enjoying the sounds. Balancing on the edge just a little more.

Finally he can't hold out any longer. Slicking himself up with his free hand, he switches from fingers to cock. There's a long, shuddering sigh at the heat, at feeling Yuuri all around him.

From the outside, it looks entirely too sudden, maybe punishing even. Viktor barely gives him time to adjust to each finger before there's another one, and even though the longest pause is for three, it's still not an amount of time that's careful in any way. It leaves Yuuri clawing at the pillows when Viktor pushes in, gasping for air, but if Viktor even so much as tries to slow down on his behalf, Yuuri gets a leg around him and tugs him in faster. If Viktor wants to set a slow pace on his own, Yuuri will absolutely let him, this is about Viktor, after all, but he refuses to be coddled right now.

So whether Viktor needs the warning leg or not, it will fall away after a moment anyway, and then there's just Yuuri shuddering slightly under him, whole posture an invitation. He definitely gives the impression, in that moment, of letting Viktor choose what kind of pace he wants, if he wants to draw this out or take his prize more quickly.

Quickly. Dear God quickly, Viktor surprises himself at the pace. Leaping off the edge. Hips snapping hard against Yuuri's.

"Fuck," he pants, in Russian, then his mouth's busy with other things. Specifically working a bruise into the crook of Yuuri's neck. So deep even the cashmere's probably going to sting when it's back on. Bring a blush to his cheeks, the red pretty against the blue.

Fuck this boy is so pretty. Dressed or naked Viktor doesn't care at this particular second.

He just wants him. Every single inch bright and hot and here.

The noise Yuuri makes doesn't have the sharpness of a scream, but it's hard to classify it as anything else, loud and startled, when Viktor snaps his hips like that. It hurts a little, it's too fast for anything but, but it's not a jarring kind of pain, it's nothing worse than falling on the ice, forgettable. The pleasure is much more intense, and it's the surprise of how that jolts through his limbs that draws the noise. Each thrust is almost teeth-rattling, and it brings with it that gunshot of pleasure and he's trying really hard to keep his eyes open because watching Viktor just completely lose it is a prize he never really even considered getting out of this, but it's gorgeous.

Getting Viktor to let go and actually lose control of himself is rare-- he cedes control quite beautifully and, since they've figured all of this out, rather frequently. But that's a gift and Yuuri knows it, loves it, but this is something entirely different and it always takes his breath away that he can do this. He wants to watch every second of it.

But then Viktor's mouth is on his neck and he's arching for that instead and that's something that hurts, too, but the blooming ache makes him squirm, fisting his hands in the pillows because he wants to be dragging them down Viktor's back. He can't seem to unarch his back or catch his breath. He knows the noises are probably starting to sound a bit less like he's enjoying this, can't help that, but he is, so much,

"More," it's a word he rarely uses, but it's appropriate to the day, greedy, and it's everything he wants right now.

The sounds are strange and bright, almost enough to worry - then comes the clear "More." Washing any concern away.

Viktor drags a hand to Yuuri's cock. Fingers gripping tight as he keeps mouthing the bruise deeper in. The pace turns relentless. He shouldn't be able to go any deeper, but it feels that way even so. Feeding off the greed and these stunning noises. He could fly from this. From Yuuri writhing under him and demanding.

Absolutely.

Everything.

The end comes blazing. Viktor's full weight pressing down as he buries himself in that welcome heat.

He doesn't have any idea how Viktor is able to keep that pace and his balance and get a hand around his cock, but he's making another one of those screaming shouts at the suddenness of it, the wash of pleasure and a new sensation where there's so much of it already. He's completely overwhelmed and it's in the best possible way-- Viktor's weight presses down on him a lot more like deadweight and there's a rushing wave through him. He has a feeling he's probably making a noise, and it's loud, but there's no room in his head for anything other than the orgasm, the feel of Viktor's teeth still sinking into his neck a bright anchor of pain in the pleasure that's feels like it's just enough to keep him from losing his mind.

Surely that's an exaggeration, but in the moment, it feels like it, like everything could just get swept away right now if there wasn't something holding him there.

Viktor feels that sweep too, as he hits the climax. But for him it's all from Yuuri. Crying out, screaming from the pleasure of it. Everything crashing loose.

And letting Viktor do it.

There's a few deep, shuddering breaths. Viktor stays buried deep. Fingers digging into Yuuri's shoulders. Making sure they're both still here. Then, slowly, sense begins to return. He plants one hand on Yuuri's chest. Keeping things anchored as he gently tugs the scarf loose. Dragging it back down to drape across Yuuri's neck.

"Definitely, definitely, definitely your color," he murmurs. Pulling free so he can curl into Yuuri.

Yuuri always gets a little knocked offline from his orgasms. Sometimes it's more intense than others, but he's always at least a little spacey afterwards, like the release of tension leaves him giddy a bit. The more intense version can leave him limp on the bed, trying to remember how his limbs work. He's ended up as deadweight on top of Viktor more than once, probably actually scared him at least once with how still and quiet he's gone.

He's just sort of figuring out how to focus his eyes when Viktor pulls back a little and drapes it down Yuuri's neck. The feel of the fabric in contrast to Viktor's skin draws a low noise of appreciation out of him, involuntarily, and he hums a little more appreciatively when Viktor curls into him.

He makes the extra effort to wind his arms around Viktor's neck, to lean into him, but even though he's not really sliding towards sleep or anything, it's about all he can manage at the moment.

Viktor has learned to read this too. There's a low chuckle as Yuuri sinks against him. The shared warmth pooling between them in the quiet. They have both earned this aftermath. Over and over again. It still feels like getting hit by a train. This time even more then usual

He finds himself toying with the ends of the scarf. Winding them around his fingers. Letting them drift across Yuuri's skin.

"Thank you," he says at last. For this, for the shopping, and just - being here.

"Mm." He manages, a complete acknowledgement, at least for a moment. He drifts a bit, still not really headed for sleep, but content to just exist for a few moments, without any of the complicated rest of it-- which is a small miracle in and of itself, though not a terribly unusual one for the two of them. He does finally come back down to earth a bit, and chuckles at the tickle of the ends of the scarf,

"You've been working so hard and it's only going to get worse," there's no reason to deny it or shy away from it-- both of them are used to hard work and difficult training regimens, after all. He stretches, makes a little contented noise as he settles back down, "You deserved it."

There's a moment of silence where he just let's that sit. There's not been a lot of that kind of play between them, not a lot of punishment or rewards or praise, mostly just because Yuuri is usually ridiculously full of praise for Viktor and there's not much Viktor ever does that really warrants punishment. But the words sit warm and true in the air and Yuuri decides immediately that he likes it. His lips curve into a little smile,

"Though, with all those new clothes... You'll be helping me get dressed for a while. I don't know how to really wear any of that." It's another gift, sort of, sly, but it's also not really a question, either.

"Hmm. Well if that's the case, I will accept my sentence!"

Viktor's picked up on that nuance as well. He pushes happily against Yuri's side. Kissing that pretty smile because he can. Already planning out tomorrow's outfit.

And the outfits for the next month.

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Bear the Weight of Well-Tailored Clothes (for davaidavai)

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