emberossing | for boogiedown

for boogiedown

He knows it's going to be a disaster the moment he sets foot on the ice.

He's been trying. Celestino knows that he's been trying, everyone in Detroit knows he's been trying. He's at the rink more than he isn't. He's skating more than he sleeps. He's gotten back down to competition weight... more or less... and he's dedicated as anyone can be. But his heart's not in it and anyone who looks at his skating can tell that.

Jumps have never been where he got his points at.

His short program had been a disaster and he's not known for pulling out of those and he doesn't here, either. It's one of the worst free programs he's ever skated and he barely makes it out of the kiss and cry without the crying part... except once he can escape to the locker room or a bathroom or wherever he can manage to get alone, he's more left feeling completely numb. He tries to feel anything and there's nothing at all. There's nothing left.

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Yuuri has exactly zero experience with (knowingly) seducing anybody. He's not even sure that's actually what he's doing. He's not even sure there's anything like actual desire there, or if he really intends this to go where things like this usually head. He does know, however, that this is good, unequivocally, that the cake is delicious and that he's starved for human contact and that Minami did in fact kiss him like it was something he wanted and the place he's in is dark and cold and he doesn't want to be there, and Minami is warm and bright and here.

He also knows, distantly, through that same pane of glass, that he's probably being an asshole by doing this, if he has no real intentions of ever doing something like it again. Remorse, he finds, seems to also sit behind the same glass wall. He can look, but not touch.

He can touch Minami.

So he does. He shifts closer, puts a hand on Minami's face to draw him back in once he's finished with the bite, but close enough to finishing it that he tastes like chocolate.

Minami is, indeed, here. A sunbeam - no, a sun - no, better, a supernova determined to melt whatever keeps Yuuri faded and dark. Because everyone should shine. Everyone should feel this bright. He isn't thinking of what's next. Only what's happening now.

He's pouring that into the kiss without realizing it. Fingers tight on Yuuri's shoulders. Anchors of contact. Minami doesn't quite have the presence of mind to move them yet but he's here, can be touched. And will respond amazingly well if Yuuri's hands start exploring. Happy to give whatever is needed to bring him back.

When they come up for air Minami blurts out, "Um - CanIcallyouYuuri?!"

Yuuri can't help but huff a little breath of laughter at that, reel him back in.

"Yes," he's used to Detroit, where everyone calls him by his first name, too close and too personal and too physical with him all the time until it makes him want to hide. Phichit and Celestino are the only two people who ever started out calling him by his last name, less cultural to countries and more cultural to sports but it's telling they're also the only two people he's gotten close to, the only two people where his first name now sounds right. What's one more person calling him Yuuri even though they probably shouldn't?

Except that Minami understands what he's asking and Yuuri understands what it means to accept.

He wonders if it's weird that that's exactly why he so easily says yes.

He really should stop doing this. Minami looks up to him, for whatever reason. He could really hurt him. But he's so wounded himself that he's struggling to care and Minami's mouth is so warm. There's a sudden thread of heat in the kiss, and then he's chasing some of that chocolate taste into Minami's mouth.

Edited 2017-08-15 12:22 (UTC)

The weight against his tongue gets a startled little noise from Minami, Arms wrapping tight on reflex. For the moment he's too overwhelmed - from sensation, taste, the permission to use Yuuri's name - to take any more initiative.

He is cataloging at a rapid pace, though. This is good. This is - really amazing and Minami wants more of it. Tries some of his own exploring, deepening the kiss.

Yuuri shudders when he does. This part he knows at least a little about, might be a virgin but hasn't been completely chaste, not in America, not in college, but this is different, doing this here, like this, with Minami. He's not sure which part of this makes this different, but it is, all the same.

Someone could theoretically come in. They really should stop this.

Yuuri doesn't stop this. They're too awkwardly placed on the benches to do much exploring if they don't want to either drop the cake or fall off the bench, but he's pouring all of that into the kiss, instead, heating it.

Minami's brain fizzles, pops, his head's full of bubbles. He's stopped trying to believe this is happening. Enjoying it instead. Moving is the last thing in the world he wants to do. Maybe ever.

There's really only one thing that could still get his attention. Minami breaks off when he feels his plate shift. Snatching it up from certain doom.

"Ahh! Should - we - finish the cake? Or - "

Yuuri's running entirely off of instinct, all of his usual thought patterns completely destroyed. Minami starts the sentence about the cake and Yuuri cuts him off by grabbing a bite of vanilla cake, surprisingly delicately, and feeding it to him.

He doesn't use the fork.

"Mmph!"

Suddenly there's vanilla and the warmth of skin against Minami's tongue. He hums, maybe whimpers, definitely gets every last crumb. Then he's grabbing Yuuri's hand. Chasing the frosting up his fingers.

Things are all still just kind of a smear of... everything. There's still the distant voice that says this is not the greatest idea he's ever had, that someone could walk in, that Minami is indistinctly young in that way that might mean he's a lot younger than Yuuri thinks he is. It's growing more distant. It's nearly silent when he curls his fingers just a little bit to pet over Minami's tongue as it slides along one finger.

He's scooting closer on the bench before he thinks about it. It's still a little awkward the way they're sitting, thigh to thigh, with their torsos turned in towards one another, but they're closer now, warm against each other. Close enough that he can slide his fingers against Minami's jawline and turn his head up into another kiss when he's done with his fingers.

The plates drop to the floor. Hopefully all the cake is gone. Minami can't be bothered to check. There are way more important things to concentrate on. Like that line of fire on his jaw, on every piece of him Yuuri touches.

(There is a fading awareness that this... might be too much. Except it's drowned out in good and Yuuri, in the sugar burst of frosting.)

Minami's gotten centered enough that he's beginning to wonder about other tools at his disposal. Now that hands have more obviously entered the game, his begin to wander. Sliding up into Yuuri's hair, curling tight.

Excuse you, Yuuri sets his plate aside like a proper young man, even if the things he's doing with the rest of himself are hardly proper.

He's not expecting the hands in his hair and he makes a soft noise to that, the kiss deepening almost reflexively a moment later. The tiny voice turns into a scream, but so does how good this feels, and Yuuri is scrabbling blindly for connection and here it is, all the connection he could want. He winds one of his arms around Minami's waist, pulls them closer on the bench, deepens the kiss again.

Minami competes in skating, but has put almost as much time into pair dancing. The same moves, over and over, until they're part of him. Automatic. So it just seems natural to follow the hand on his waist. Letting Yuuri pull him in, follow the flow of it up. Swing onto his lap without thinking.

And his brain almost - almost catches up with him. Except kissing is even better at this angle.

Yuuri grabs him by the hips and pulls him more into his lap without really thinking about it, as automatic as the swing over had been. Not that this is something he's well versed or practiced in, but when he lets his body actually do what it wants, he's got good instincts.

Alarm bells trill in his head, again, but Minami's heated on his lap, everything right now that he can't reach and wants and the kiss is messy and sexy and perfect, and pushing him off or dealing with the fact that they're all but grinding on each other now, means he has to stop kissing him.

Minami does not want to stop.

Ever.

And it's not quite sex but he's grasped just enough to realize that's the direction they're careening in. The hands wrapping around his hips send a bolt to his brain. It ricochets around there a few times, then shoots down his spine. Between his legs, and it suddenly hits how hard he is. Every tiny movement enormous.

He didn't know it was possible to feel this much. And there's another person against him. Yuuri Katsuki against him. Minami moans into the next kiss. Digging both hands into Yuuri's hair to hold on.

If Minami were more practiced at this or more hesitant, all of this would vanish. But him warm and unthinkingly eager in his lap is causing everything to short circuit and go sideways, turns everything to reactions. Hand dig into his hair and his hands dig back into hips and he's dragging Minami down in his lap harder, pushing him just a little until the angle is a little better...

It's a thin line between something that's making out and something that's really more sex with their clothes on, and Yuuri's the one that pulls them right up to it, cocks grinding against each other's through their clothes. And words are complicated but noises are easy and he's meeting Minami moan for moan, doesn't let his mouth get far from his, or from his skin, half to muffle himself and half because he doesn't know what words might spill out.

The friction gets a keen from Minami. He buries his face into Yuuri's shoulder. Repeating that dragging motion with his hips, getting the idea now. He has never wanted to be so loud and so quiet at the same time and it's so good he's going to pass out.

He does not.

Which means he gets to do it again. Starting to set a rhythm.

He doesn't know why he's not expecting Minami to catch on that quickly. In retrospect, it's kind of a silly assumption. But it catches him off-guard when Minami rolls his own hips back, figures out how and why this angle is a little better, and he makes a startled, moaning noise, sharper and louder than he wants it. He muffles himself in Minami's neck a minute later.

There's a thought, flitting through, about how teenaged and messy this is, how stupid, how little he deserves anything like this. But Yuuri is feeling something, even if it's just physical pleasure (and he thinks it's something else, but can't sort it) and it's the first time he's really felt anything in weeks and it's overwhelming in it's intensity.

Minami reflects that back tenfold. He is a teenager, with all the energy and hormones of just being that colliding into the thrill of winning. It's not about deserve. He wants to have this and to give this. What could be wrong with it? Everything's so bright. And perfect. He had no idea it felt this good. Then Yuuri's mouth on his neck pulls out another gasp.

Distantly he registers other noises. Apart from their own. Voices? Still quiet, but moving closer.

He can't quite connect why that matters...

It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. He tugs Minami's hair a little bit harder than he means to, to pull him up and back into kissing, and pleasure turns the kiss filthy, needy, but he's well past caring.

Except the noises are coming closer and Yuuri finally figures out what's happening, or what's about to happen, and pulls back with a panicked look. There's no time to look like they're not doing exactly what it is that they're doing, but they are further back towards the back of the locker room. If they could just stay quiet, it's unlikely that anyone coming in for their own things would notice them, or their things. But if they did...

Yuuri doesn't have time to consider the implications, that he's not pushing Minami away but pulling him with him, suddenly all dancers muscle and grace standing them up off of the bench and Minami can be impressed later that part of that is Yuuri deadlifting him back to his feet. Right now, though, he's bundling them off and down towards a side door he'd seen before, hoping that it's a stall or a shower or something unlocked rather than a maintenance closet or something.

Getting jerked back to standing brings a bit of reason back online. Enough to connect that voices means people. People other then them. Who aren't feeling this. Who won't understand -

And then Yuuri's pulling Minami away. They end up in a handicapped stall, door bolted, huddled into the farthest corner.

Minami presses against Yuuri. Eyes wide. And he should really be holding still, he knows that, but can't keep his hands from wandering. The threat of discovery is no match for the reality of touching.

It's a nice stall at least! It's it's whole own little room, actually, a full door between them and the sound of voices, though it's still just a door. They can hear muffled voices through it, need to be careful. But Yuuri locks the door and if he doesn't keep moving he's going to panic, so he drags Minami over to the farthest wall and seals his mouth back against his, muffling his own slightly desperate noises, pulling Minami back against him.

Minami scrabbles. Instead of quieting the rush, the panic has stoked the fire higher. He pushes up under Yuuri's jacket, shirt, frantic for more touch, skin. It's different standing up. The friction more immediate, and he finds himself grinding automatically into whatever's closest. Whether it's a hand or Yuuri's thigh.

After an eternity the voices finally fade. Minami's sure he's going to explode.

"Yuuri -" he pants, "Please -"

He's only vaguely aware of what he's asking for. Minami just knows he wants it. Eyes wide and imploring.

Yuuri shoves his thigh between Minami's legs. He's not particularly an expert on how any of this is supposed to go, but he's not stupid-- friction is good, obviously. He even helps Minami up it a little with his hands on his ass, which isn't something he's thinking very hard about.

Unfortunately, Yuuri doesn't really know what Minami is asking for either, though he's dimly aware of how pretty he is, asking for it.

"Please what?" and it's just information he's after, just needs to understand, but his voice is low to avoid detection and it comes out unintentionally smooth, teasing, like he's baiting Minami a little.

Friction is amazing. Especially when Yuuri tugs him closer and purrs. It pulls out a low sound from Minami, one he doesn't recognize as coming from him.

"Please - more-"

He's shaking from this, the contact and words are not a thing he can manage. But he's been trained to move. Use his body to express. So in a burst of inspiration, Minami drags Yuuri's hand to his dick. Grinds against that, as best he can.

Okay, so, America is America and clubs are clubs. And Yuuri drinks, occasionally. He's not 100% completely inexperienced even if his experience can be distilled down to nothing anyway. But this is definitely the first time he's had his hand on someone else's cock, through clothes or otherwise and it ought to be a sobering moment where he remembers that maybe this is not the best idea he's ever had.

Except he's still about half a wrong second from a total mental breakdown if he stops to think about anything, so it's a lot easier to just grind his palm back against Minami for a moment before sliding it up and down inside his pants.

It surprises him how good it feels, actually. He'd always kind of presumed it would be more awkward, maybe a little gross? He wasn't really sure. He's used to dealing with his own dick, obviously, but the thought of touching someone else's... But Minami's warm and it really doesn't feel all that different, except that Minami is undoubtably reacting to that and that's awesome. He's muffling a little moan into the next kiss and if Minami notices that he sounds surprised, maybe he'll presume he's pleasantly surprised about his size or something.

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