emberossing (
emberossing) wrote2017-03-05 04:53 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
for wauuu
Yuuri cracks open his eyes, blearily, to an unfamiliar ceiling. His head feels like it's either on fire or full of bees or possibly both and his stomach does a slow, sickening roll as he opens his eyes, but it settles, at least for the time being. Not just his head but everything hurts enough that, at least at first, he more just moves on auto-pilot, looking around for his glasses and taking what is obviously a pair of Paracetamol on the bedside table. There's a little note with them but he doesn't parse either the message or recognize the handwriting, so he just drinks about half the glass of water and looks around.
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
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Yuuri's an unspooled pile of ribbon on the bed right now, limbs loose and mind quiet. Maybe that's why he laughs and pushes just a bit at Viktor,
"You say that like you had nothing to do with it," he teases, a little wryly.
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"I got so caught up with how sexy you are, simply couldn't help myself." And it was so good, too.
So good.
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"I still think that's mostly your influence," that he can say, at least, "I would never have done something like that on my own. I wouldn't have dared. But... wow." He never claimed to be a poet.
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"You'd have to be very flexible to do that all on your own," he laughs, "I'll spare your back and do it for you."
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"That's not what I meant and you know it," he flushes, a little huffy and embarrassed about it all of a sudden, but still mostly joking and riding high on endorphins. He must not be too upset though, because he kisses Victor again, just because he can, and right now, there's nothing dark about that statement-- he's giddy with it. After the kiss, though, he seems to settle a little more, though he's still grinning a little,
"I don't think I can manage something like that," he admits, "but I'd like to try doing something for you. But I don't know what." More relaxed, he's also more honest about things, enthusiastic.
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"Don't worry, you have a lot of catching up to do before you reach my level," that's definitely more cheeky than he normally could be, but the self deprecation helps. He's not sure, even with the situation, how he's going to manage to ask a second time in a row what it is that Victor wants him to do for him, but it's starting to weigh a little on him as he comes down a bit more.
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Don't worry, Yuuri, he won't make you ask again. Mostly, as the person still very much turned on, he couldn't only set it aside for so long. Use it or lose it, alright, and he very much wants to keep this encounter going. Yuuri certainly seemed much more lively after some time to recover from his hang over. Young, fit bodies will do that.
"I'm thinking," he'll take that finger and put it to his own own lips, "you should show me how good you are with your hands. A couple very gentle fingers, to be exact."
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He still feels completely unmoored from reality, even more so on the heels of an orgasm and that suggestion gets an even deeper blush.
"Yes," he breathes, because he's pretty sure he knows what Victor means by that and he's pretty sure he wants it right now and that patience is going to be the hard part.
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"Now, nothing rough like before, okay?" A casual wink as he's throwing his legs over Yuuri's, this time. He pops the lid open with his teeth and taking Yuuri's hand in his. He'll be squeezing some onto Yuuri's fingers slowly. "Only patience will get you that,"
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(He is not doing a very good job at any of those things.)
"You started it," he says, flushing. He rubs his fingers together a little, feeling out the slickness, "Um," he doesn't really want to admit this but... "You're probably going to have to give more instructions than that. I've never... I mean, I have the internet, but I've never actually..." he can't quite finish, feels like his face is going to explode, instead.
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"Never for yourself? Wow!" Victor sounds so playfully amused by this, like it's very unique (it's not), "you're missing out. I'll... I guess the word would be coach you." He's got a tease, taking Yuuri's hand and guiding it around his side and down to his tail bone, placing the man's hand on the curve of his ass, fingers sinking between the cheeks. His skin is much warmer there, than his cold hands were.
"Use just one finger to start," he'll begin, "Don't press in much at the start, just focus on stretching the outside. If you're feeling resistance, don't push against it, give me time to relax," hi, hello, Yuuri, did you think your childhood idol would explaining to you how to finger him? Because that's a thing that's really happening.
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Yuuri's face is so hot it's almost physically uncomfortable at this point, but he lets himself be moved, already pressing just a little bit as soon as Victor puts him there, not really trying to push in, or even stretch the outside like he's saying, just touch, rub, learn what this feels like. He gets a cutely studious sort of look on his face, trying to figure it out, before he follows instructions, one finger barely ghosting inside, just enough to make it an outward pull to the edges. He's very hesitant at first, gentle, horrified he's actually going to hurt him.
He's already shown though, that his caution rarely lasts long if he's goaded a little.
He also misses the coaching thing but then... he doesn't remember that, does he?
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"Mmmn, good, just like that," he arches his stomach forward more, butt out toward Yuuri's hands to relax more against the soft and lubricated intrusion. "don't rush, you're going just the right pace,"
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He's gone kind of breathlessly silent, but there's communication all the same, because he keeps staring at Victor somewhere between him being the best thing he's ever seen and like he's surprised to be here, still.
"You're gorgeous," he finally says, breathless and maybe that's a weird thing to say when you're actually finally pushing your finger just a tiny bit deeper into someone, but his brain feels kind of detached from his body, right now.
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The compliment is so abrupt and sincere it even makes Victor blush. Of course, it also makes him grin. He practically flings his arms around Yuuri's shoulders to press his chest against the man, face snuggling to the younger skaters ear. He speaks, a bit quiet, a bit shaky on the pronunciation, and all too adoring.
"Arigatou, Yuuri," have you melted, yet?
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It's starting to dawn on him that there's a very sharp difference, here, between the Victor throwing his arms around him (and the one making pleased noises while he pushes into his mouth) and the Victor in the magazines and on the ice. That there would be one is obvious-- no one is 100% their public persona. But it's drifting past all the other things in his mind that he's actually getting to see that. Victor is showing him a side of him that doesn't show up in interviews and photos and Yuuri... doesn't know what the feeling is to that. It's positive, but a little scared, too, like he doesn't deserve it.
It doesn't stop him from hugging back, one armed, though, smile going fond as he leans a little further in for a tiny kiss. A moment later, he tests the way in, pushing that one finger in until he either runs out of finger or does meet resistance, though either way it's brief and he's moved back to more shallow touches after-- whether that's to remind Victor that he's not going to push too far, too fast, or whether it's teasing depends on how well Victor takes the intrusion.
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"Two fingers," he commands, clearly and confidently, "same pace."
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There's a push and pull here, in doing this, that he settles into very easily, almost lulled by the way it feels. He's not sure where the impulse comes from, but he leans in and kisses Victor, open-mouthed and deep, but slow, leisurely in exactly the same way the pace is.
"I really like this," he confesses, after a moment, the tone hushed, a blush on his cheeks. He's got no idea if that's normal or not, to like doing something like this, but he does, and he does enough to need to let Victor know that, apparently.
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His hips wiggle, pressing Yuuri's two fingers in deep as they can. Groaning with desire, he'll try to remember how words work before speaking. Incoherent direction is no good, though maybe Yuuri would brag later about getting Victor Nikiforov finger-fucked speechless. Victor doesn't know if Yuuri is the type to brag, he seemed like a very private sort. Maybe only to trusted company, probably with a lot of blushing and stuttering. There's actually something Victor likes about being bragged over, so long as it's flattering.
"Don't curl your fingers, alright? Just spread them like, uhm, scissors," he'll huff out an aroused, but amused breath, "I'll come too quick, if you do the other thing..."
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There's no way Victor would have caught it if they weren't already looking at one another, if they weren't quite so tuned in, but like this, it's obvious: for one moment, when Victor gives those instructions, the same man who's been apologizing all day for the inconvenience of having him here very clearly considers doing it anyway. It flits across his face in a second and is gone, but he thinks about just casually making Victor come, before the flush deepens a little bit and he scissors his fingers obediently instead
Apparently the whole face-fucking thing isn't a one-off.
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Victor's hands travel down either side of Yuuri's front. A brief teasing of nipples and he's got the man by the hips again. A testing press of his own groin inward, erection still hard and dripping, pressing against Yuuri's skin. Fingers still probing inside. He grinds is cock toward Yuuri's, curious if the man had his own hard on back.
"That's a good boy, Yuuri," he always starts with praise, "when I come, it should be from your cock, shouldn't it?"
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"Oh my god, you're serious... you want me to..." he can't finish that sentence. He's not aware that it maybe sounds a little like he's asking Victor to finish it for him, to say it out loud.
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"да, I'd like this inside me next," he rubs Yuuri more to punctuate, wiggling his hips against the fingers still stretching him, "but only if you ask nicely."
That should throw the decision back into Yuuri's court. Also, a bit of begging can be hot.
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Unfortunately, while the question is probably a more sexy way to ask if someone's okay with something than most people would manage, this is Yuuri, and there's an almost immediate retreat at the words. Not off the bed or out of Victor or anything so dramatic, but the sort of open wonder on his face twists a little, turns a bit back to him looking unsure of himself. It's not that he doesn't hear the other words, but doubts start to creep in all the same...
"A-ask? I don't... I mean... You've already done so much, so... I don't feel like I should ask for anything. I mean..." even he knows that this is ridiculous-- Victor just gave him the most amazing blow job he could imagine, it's pretty obvious this isn't some kind of burden to him. But there's a part of his brain that won't listen to him, that's suddenly convinced Victor's just humoring him.
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1/2
2/2 I cannot be trusted
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the joke (and Victor) sticks the landing
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