yurionicekink | Prompt Post 1

Prompt Post 1

Notes: This post might contain adult contents. Proceed at your own discretion.

This is the place where you can request fics and fill requests

Rules (May change later):
1.Anon not necessary but recommended.
2.Put pairings/kinks/tropes/warnings on the comment title.
3.Any kink is fine. Fic or art fills is fine. Multi fills is encouraged.
4.If you see anything you don't like scroll down or use Dw blocker.
5.For the ease of prompt finding and email tracking please use full names from the official site in the comment title, except please write Yuri Katsuki as Yuuri Katsuki to differentiate him from Yuri Plisetsky.
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_{Names:
-Yuuri Katsuki
-Victor Nikiforov
-Yuri Plisetsky
-Seung Gil Lee
-Emil Nekola
-Otabek Altin
-Georgi Popovich
-Cristophe Giacometti
-Guang-Hong Il
-Jean-Jacques Leroy
-Phichit Chulanont
-Michele Crispino
-Kenjiro Minami
-Leo De La Iglesia

-Toshiya Katsuki, Hiroko Katsuki, Mari Katsuki
-Takeshi Nishigori, Yuko Nishigori, Axel / Lutz / Loop Nishigori
-Minako
-Hisashi Morooka
-Yakov Feltsman
-Celestino Cialdini
-Mira Babicheva
-Lilia Baranovskaya
-Sara Crispino
-Kolya Plisetsky}

Ao3 collection:
https://archiveofourown.org/collections/YuriOnIceKink

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Haha thank you so much! I agree! ^_^ Glad you enjoyed!

Oh yay! I'm so glad you enjoyed! I really loved your prompt but also wanted someone to show it more focused attention (lol), but I'm so happy you enjoyed what little bit I did include! Thanks so much for giving this a peek! <3

Ahh you're so sweet!! #^_^# Hahaha I'll definitely consider it - I've been wanting Yuuri to have some DP action for awhile, so the temptation might be too great to pass up, lol.

And yeah, no worries! Sending you a quick message - tbh I've been staying on anon mostly because I'm embarrassed to be avoiding other projects, lolol.

I'm working on this right now! It should be done by next week. I think it's no problem if I crosspost from AO3?

Yuri fucks Otabek on his bike

Would love to see some dirty talk, edging and/or subby Otabek.

A quick fill.

https://i.imgur.com/nGhQBoS.png

Holy shit, not OP but this is amazing! So hot //////

Thank you! :)

This got ... long. Keywords: underage, lots of sex, rimming, barebacking, sex toys, spitroasting, praise, too much incidental French. Victor is 24, Chris 22, young Victor 16.

~

Victor knows before the knock comes. He can't explain it, he can't understand it. But when Chris swears and leans forward for one more kiss, Victor looks past his shoulder, following the pull in his chest. When Chris heads down the hallway, red satin robe swirling around his thighs, Victor follows.

And when Chris opens the door, Victor meets his own eyes.

Sixteen, that's how old he is. Standing in the hallway with his hair spilling over his shoulders. Thin cotton t-shirt and drawstring pants and arms wrapped around his chest. Bare feet. Puzzled face.

"I'm dreaming," he says, his voice pitched high.

"My god," Chris says. He looks back at Victor. "Is that you?"

Victor pushes past Chris and holds out his hand. "We're both dreaming." But when those fingers grasp his own, cold and clutching and alive, he knows it's real. He's holding his own hand, looking into his own eyes. "Come in," is all he finds to say.

The boy walks into his arms. He's not quite as tall as Victor is now, a few centimetres yet to go, but his cheek presses against Victor's cheek and his hands lock around Victor's waist. "I'm dreaming," he says again and his breath is warm against Victor's neck.

"You're dreaming," Victor murmurs. He presses the boy closer, hands slipping over the silky hair he used to take so much trouble over. There's a cord connecting them, he can almost see it, a glowing line looped chest to chest.

"Interesting." Chris reaches out and touches the boy's hair, rubbing the ends of the strands between his finger and thumb. "I was always sorry you cut it, mon ami." He puts his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Mes amis."

The boy's arms tighten and he looks around at Chris, eyes widening. "Who–"

"It's all right," Victor says. He shoots Chris a look and Chris lets his hand fall away. "Chris is a friend of mine. Of ours."

"Just a friend?" Chris presses his hand over his heart. "So cold, Victor." He looks down at the boy, eyes gleaming. "You weren't always so cold."

"You weren't always such an ass." Victor pulls back, hands still on the boy's shoulders. "It's okay," he tells him. "Vitya, it's okay."

"Come sit down." Chris leads them back into his living room and Victor steers Vitya to the couch. The lights are still low and Chris doesn't move to turn them up. Victor keeps his arm around Vitya's shoulders as they sink back against the cushions.

"You can stay with us," Victor says and he feels Vitya relax under his arm.

"I'll get another glass." Chris leaves the room, meeting Victor's eyes over his shoulder as he goes.

Vitya looks around the room. "You live here?" He pushes back his hair with an unconscious gesture so familiar Victor almost makes it himself.

"Chris does. I'm visiting." The first weekend in over a month and they had only just got started when the knock came. Victor still wonders if this is a dream but when he looks around the room, nothing changes, not the hands on the clock, not the words on the cover of Chris's book.

Chris crosses behind them and sets a wine glass down on the coffee table. He freshens their glasses and pours out for Vitya, a Barolo with the same bright gleam as his robe. "Santé!" he says and drinks.

Victor just touches his glass to his lips but Vitya takes a long swallow, only stopping to smell the wine after he's finished most of it.

"How did you get here?" Chris sits down on Vitya's other side.

"I was in bed." Vitya looks down at his glass, swirling what wine is left. "And then I was outside your door." He turns to Victor. "You're..." He switches to Russian. "You're me. I'm you."

Victor nods. "I don't understand, but I can feel it's true."

"Were you doing anything in bed?" Chris asks.

Vitya blushes.

"Nothing to blush about, little one," Chris says. "I was doing that myself last night."

"Not this morning?" Victor says. "Not this afternoon?"

"Saving myself for you, mon chéri." Chris leans back and tips his chin up, showing Victor the line of his neck and jaw.

"You were..." Vitya trails off. The flush on his face doesn't fade but he lifts his chin too, rejecting the embarrassment. His eyes flick over to Chris, up and down, curious, awake.

Victor feels it too, an echo or a memory, the sharp-eyed hunger for every beautiful man that made every day a torture and delight. And Chris, lounging, robe falling open over his chest, half a smile on his face, is very beautiful.

"We were." Chris slides his arm across the couch, behind Vitya, to dip one fingertip under the fold of Victor's robe. "We are."

Victor catches his breath. Just that small touch is rousing him now, even more than kissing on the couch after six weeks apart. He meets Chris's eyes behind Vitya's head, then brushes his lips over the back of Chris's hand.

At the same moment, Vitya leans back into Chris's arm.

They all three go still. Victor doesn't even breathe, but the air around them is charged with tension, that invisible cord looping around them all. He looks at Vitya's lovely profile, the need that's outlined in the twist of his mouth and the flare of his nostrils, and he can feel the same expression on his own face.

Then Chris shifts, enough to start time again, and they both look over at him. He looks at Vitya with a smile but when he turns his eyes to Victor, his face is serious. He raises his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Are you asking my opinion or my permission?" Victor says. Vitya is turning to Chris, leaning for him like a plant leans for the sun. But Victor puts two fingers under his chin and turns his head. "Vitya."

Vitya's face gleams like moonlight in the dim room. "Please," he says.

Victor kisses him.

At first it's just a warm press against that sweet mouth. Victor pulls back, just a fraction, to give Vitya time to react and to let his own singing nerves calm.

But Vitya fists the lapel of Victor's robe and bangs into him, mouth wide and thigh pressing close. A sigh of breath into Victor's mouth, then he's kissing Victor, messy, scrambling.

Victor cups the back of Vitya's head and opens for him. It's bad, too wet, too open. By sixteen he should be better at this. But Vitya's hands catching at him, tongue driving into him, this desperation Victor can remember from so many nights. He's flaring with it too and he can't decide if he should calm the boy or press him down onto the couch and roll on top.

He pulls back to breathe. He strokes Vitya's face, the faint brush of stubble along his jawline, not enough yet to shave every day. "I'm glad you're here," Victor says and Vitya's eyes go hot and needy.

Then Chris leans in, one hand squeezing Victor's shoulder, the other circling Vitya's wrist. "Will you let me?" he says.

"Selfish," Victor says but Vitya is already turning to Chris. "Be good."

"You know how good I am," Chris says.

Victor laughs. "I know how cliché you are." He keeps his hand on Vitya's back, just a light touch. Don't lose the connection, stay in the circuit.

"What do you want?" Chris says to Vitya. "You can have anything you want."

Vitya's face is still flushed but his eyes look straight into Chris's. "I want you to kiss me."

"Then I will." Chris smiles, that lazy grin that nearly topples over from charming to infuriating. He leans in, slowly, slowly, and Victor can see Vitya nearly trembling as he tries to wait for it.

Chris's lips come down on Vitya's face, just brushing the corner of his mouth, then moving along his jaw. Vitya's mouth is open, waiting for Chris's mouth. He has too much dignity to crane like a baby bird but he wants to, Victor can feel the effort that it costs him.

"Slow and soft," Chris says and kisses Vitya just like that, his mouth lingering. "Don't open too wide ... just like that." He's teaching Vitya how to kiss, caressing him with his lips and voice and hands.

Victor wants to press himself into the middle of it but he holds himself back, not because of dignity, but because he wants to see.

See Vitya slow himself down and match Chris's pace. See Chris wind his fingers in Vitya's hair. Listen to Chris murmuring to Vitya to give him his tongue and watch Vitya do everything Chris tells him.

"You're so good," Chris says. He glances over at Victor. "I thought you'd learn fast."

Vitya glows with it, shoulders rising with pride, and Victor glows too, like he's the one being praised.

"I want to touch you." Chris puts one hand on Vitya's neck and Victor can feel Chris's palm against his own skin. "Can I touch you?"

Vitya nods, eyes closing, fingers tightening around Chris's arm.

"Tell me," Chris says. He brushes his lips across Vitya's temple. "Look at me and tell me what to do."

Victor feels the shiver go through Vitya and it goes through him too, a thrill rippling between them. "Go on, Vitya," he says and rubs Vitya's back, a slow circle. "I'm right here."

Vitya opens his eyes and gives Victor one shining glance before he looks at Chris, almost defiant, and says, "Touch me."

Chris's smile is like sunrise and a tiny pang stabs Victor, a needle sliding into his heart. He can't tell if it's happiness or jealousy.

"Turn over," Chris says and pulls Vitya up onto him, Vitya's back against Chris's chest. Chris settles them both, smoothing Vitya's hair and pausing with one hand light on Vitya's hip. Then he reaches out his hand to Victor.

Instead of taking it, Victor leans in for Chris to touch his cheek. Chris's fingers are warm, nearly hot, and they slide up into Victor's hair, tugging him closer. Victor moves to fill Vitya's space on the couch.

"We'll take care of you," Chris says to Vitya but his eyes are still on Victor, his fingers are still on Victor's face. Victor moves and kisses him, his chin grazing Vitya's hair.

Chris is hardly moving except for his tongue against Victor's but Victor can feel the coiled energy in him, the desire that's already burning Victor whenever Chris touches him.

Vitya shifts and Victor reaches down for him, links their hands together like lovers in the park. Vitya clutches tight and Victor clutches back, I've got you, we've got you.

"Chris." Victor pulls back, one last flick of Chris's tongue catching the corner of his mouth. "Vitya's waiting for you."

"Dommage," Chris murmurs. He turns Vitya's head and Vitya leans in for his kiss, pushing up for more when Chris moves back. "No," Chris says. "I want to watch your face."

Vitya flushes and his fingers squeeze. He closes his eyes and leans back against Chris's shoulder.

And Chris begins to touch him. First a finger just inside the collar of Vitya's t-shirt, drawing an arc on his skin. Vitya shivers and presses back against him.

Chris must be so ready right now, Victor wishes he could see. He tries to pull the feel of it from Vitya, Chris's long body beneath him, Chris's cock hard against the cleft of his buttocks, saying the things Chris always says, with his body, his face, his voice: I want you, you're beautiful, I want you.

Victor stretches out his leg and puts his foot against Chris's ankle, just to be there too, and Chris gives him some pressure, welcomes him.

Chris puts both hands on Vitya's hips and slides them over Vitya's belly, his chest, dragging up his shirt so it's crumpled under his arms. Chris strokes his hands up and down Vitya's skin, slow, soft, like he's soothing Vitya instead of winding him up.

But Vitya is anything but soothed. He's squirming, pressing back, arching up, eyes screwed closed, mouth half open. Hard and stretching out his thin pants.

Victor catches his own breath and strokes Vitya's hand with his thumb. He's hard too, ready for someone's hand or mouth or thigh, but he doesn't touch himself. He just watches.

Chris's thumb catches Vitya's nipple and Vitya gasps. "You like that," Chris says but he's looking at Victor now. Because, yes, he knows what Victor likes. "You should see your face, you should see how much you like it."

And it's not the same as having Chris's hands on him but Victor can feel more than just a memory, each brush of Chris's fingers, each shiver of Vitya's skin. And the look in Chris's eyes as he touches Vitya. Maybe no one will even need to touch Victor for this to happen, just his hand in Vitya's hand, his foot on Chris's foot.

"I like it," Vitya breathes, in Russian, but there's no need to translate for Chris.

"I'm going to undress you," Chris says. He moves his hands to Vitya's hips, thumbs at the waistband. "If you tell me to."

Vitya swallows and the words tumble out: "Take them off."

"Use my name." Chris kisses Vitya's temple. "Tell me what to do."

"Chris, please," Vitya says. He turns his head, his mouth, his tongue searching for Chris's but Chris won't give it to him.

"Don't ask me," Chris says. "Tell me."

The words are in Victor's mouth and he almost says them for Vitya, he so badly wants this to happen. Instead, he squeezes Vitya's hand, strokes Chris's calf.

"Chris." The flush on Vitya's cheeks is brilliant now, hectic, like he's feverish. "Undress me."

"Yes," Chris says. "I will." And he takes one end of the drawstring and pulls the knot free.

Vitya raises his hips eagerly and Chris slides the thin pants down around his knees.

And Victor looks. In the warm light, Vitya's skin is soft and glowing over the outline of his ribs, the muscle that rises and falls with his abdomen as he breathes. The sprawl of his bare thighs. And his cock hard and leaking against his belly, so ready Victor's finger could probably bring him off.

"You're beautiful," Victor says.

"Narcissist." Chris grins. "But you're right." He speaks against Vitya's temple. "You're so beautiful, thank you for letting me look at you." He rests his hands on Vitya's thighs. "What do you want me to do now?"

Vitya trembles, opens his mouth, doesn't speak. Can't speak, but he clutches Victor's hand.

Victor can't stand it, he turns Vitya's head and kisses him again, presses into Vitya with his tongue, like he can give him the words he needs to say. He pulls back and whispers, "Just say it." He strokes Vitya's cheek. "It's only Chris."

"Thank you so much, Victor," Chris says.

Vitya's throat works as he swallows. He pulls in air. "Chris," he says and there's a note of command in his voice. "Touch my cock."

"It's definitely you," Chris says. He brings one hand up slowly, fingertips trailing over Vitya's thigh and hip. Then he presses his palm down over Vitya's cock.

Vitya's hips rise and his cock jerks. Victor's too, he can feel that heavy heat of Chris's hand, even though it's not touching him.

"Wait if you can," Chris says. He's not moving his hand, not even curling his fingers. "It's okay if you can't but try not to come right away." With his other hand, he gently cups Vitya's balls, teases at the tuft of hair.

"I can wait," Vitya says. His body tenses, his toes point. He's working hard already.

Chris reaches out to the table beside the couch for lubricant, already warm, and rubs Vitya's cock like he's massaging it, slow, careful, attentive.

Vitya closes his eyes and bites his lip. His fingers tighten around Victor's and Victor doesn't need to reach through the connection to know how those fingers would feel around his own cock.

Victor can't quite remember just when he and Chris starting fooling around, a few fumbly encounters, not too different from the other boys whose dicks he rubbed through their trousers, whose thighs Victor rode in dark corners. But then their eyes began to turn to each other first and Victor couldn't keep the smile from his face whenever they met.

Even then, they were fast and frantic, excited and laughing and banging off the walls. Until that year at Worlds when Chris was seventeen and everything changed. Victor never found out who had taken Chris in hand, Chris would never say. But someone had taken time with him, taught him and coached him, touched him like he's touching Vitya now. Spoken to him in that steady voice. Looked at him with those admiring eyes.

"You're doing so well," Chris says and wraps his other arm around Vitya's chest, hiking his shirt a little higher under his arms. "I love to touch you like this."

Vitya's face changes, his mouth tightens. A dent appears between his brows, furrowing deeper as his whole face twists, and he clutches Victor's fingers so hard Victor can't help gasping from the pain.

I should tell him it's time for Botox, Victor thinks and water springs up in his eyes as Vitya comes all over Chris's hand. He doesn't breathe again until Vitya does too.

"I couldn't–" Vitya says.

"You did well." Victor leans over and kisses Vitya's cheek.

"How long until the next one, fifteen minutes?" Chris says to Victor. He fishes for a towel and dabs at Vitya and himself. Then he wraps Vitya in an embrace, chest and hips. "That was wonderful. Do you know what I'd like?"

Vitya settles himself and Victor knows what he would like right now: to get his fingers, his mouth on that bare skin, feel Vitya moving under his hands. But he waits to because he knows what Chris is going to say.

Chris runs the tip of his tongue along the curve of Vitya's ear. "I'd like to fuck you."

The flush spreads over Vitya's whole face and his body shifts again. "I haven't ... before."

"Maybe Victor wants to fuck you too." Chris shifts his own hips and Victor knows his cock is pressing hard against Vitya. "Don't worry, we'll make it easy. We'll take it slow."

"Vitya," Victor says and waits until Vitya opens his eyes. "You'll like it, I promise." He rubs Vitya's hand with his thumb. "You'll really like it."

"He's speaking from experience," Chris says. He turns Vitya's head and kisses him, opens around Vitya's tongue.

Victor can't wait any longer. He turns and slips his arm around Vitya too, under Chris's arm. He kisses Vitya's neck, his cheek, pulls him back around so he can have a turn with Vitya's mouth.

Vitya's hands come up and wrap around his arm, both their arms. Clinging like he's afraid they'll leave him. And maybe that will happen, maybe this is Vitya's dream and Victor and Chris will melt away.

But not yet. Victor tugs at Vitya's shirt and Vitya raises his arms to let it go, he kicks the sleep pants off. And now he's naked, still stretched out against Chris.

"It's my turn," Victor says. He swings himself across so that he's straddling them both, his weight mostly on his own knees. He pushes Chris's arm out of the way. And he bends and kisses Vitya's throat, hands up and down the soft skin of his chest and sides.

Vitya grabs at Victor's head, fingers slipping through his hair. Chris's hands come up too, onto Victor's back, touching him lightly.

Victor takes Vitya's nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, sucking just the way he always wants it, and Vitya's fingers twist in his hair. Like he likes it. Like it's good.

Victor climbs off the couch and Chris makes room for him to kneel down between their legs. And finally Victor puts his hand on Vitya's cock.

It's still flaccid, too soon for more, but Victor strokes it gently, looking up into Vitya's eyes, then presses a kiss on the head. A flick of the tongue just to taste the soft skin and the traces of come. Later, later it will be his turn.

Then he pushes Vitya's legs further apart and kisses the insides, soft skin, hard muscle, Vitya trembling again when Victor reaches the crease of his thigh. Victor strokes Vitya's asshole with one finger, pushing gently, not enough to slip inside.

Vitya moves like he can't help it. Not away from Victor; he just can't keep still. Can't keep his breath behind his teeth. Can't keep his hands out of Victor's hair.

"Relax," Chris says and he shifts too, all of them moving together for a moment. Then he pulls Vitya's legs up, hoists him back, getting him ready. "Victor will warm you up." His foot finds Victor's calf and Victor reaches back for it, one run of his palm up Chris's leg before he bends down and puts his tongue on Vitya.

The angle is awkward but Victor doesn't care how sore his neck feels while he's swirling his tongue and Vitya is panting and squirming and Chris is murmuring words Victor can't hear, just feel rumbling through them all.

He wishes he could see Vitya's face. Is it flushing? Twisting? Are his eyes squeezed closed? Is his tongue touching his lips? Victor presses in a little way and Vitya gives a soft cry, pushing forward for more.

Victor doesn't want to stop but Chris touches his shoulder and he looks up.

"Next," Chris says. He holds up a plug, already slick and ready.

Vitya's eyes go wide and Victor strokes his thigh. "It will be fine, don't worry."

"It's Victor's favourite," Chris says. "Sorry, Victor, I'll find another one for you."

Victor takes it. "I'm going to put it in."

Vitya stares a moment, then he nods.

What has Vitya pushed up inside himself before now? Victor can't remember everything he tried, too young and embarrassed and famous to easily buy his own. Even the first toy he had wasn't quite enough.

He presses slowly while Chris murmurs, "Relax, breathe, relax," like he's talking Vitya down from a panic attack. But Vitya isn't panicking, he's calming as the plug slides into him, that opening up that's its own relief, when you like this the way Victor likes it.

"You love it," he says and it's not a question. "Chris, there's another one the same in my bag."

"You just want him to yourself," Chris says.

Victor catches Vitya's eye and they share a smile, Vitya's eyes hot and dazed, and Victor wonders if he looks the same. He takes Vitya in his arms and pulls him off Chris, up to his feet. "Don't you want to watch us?"

Vitya presses close, standing awkwardly, and kisses Victor. The silk of the robe is between them, sliding between Victor's cock and Vitya's belly. Vitya takes hold of the belt, then stops.

"Do anything you want," Victor says. He runs his hands down Vitya's back, squeezes his buttocks. "Anything."

"Don't you dare come while I'm out of the room," Chris says and goes to rummage through Victor's luggage.

"What will he do about it if you do?" Vitya opens Victor's robe and stands back to look Victor up and down.

"Do I look good?" Victor says. "Chris? Complain." He takes a handful of Vitya's hair and tugs on it. "He'd spank me if I asked him to but he's not much into those kinds of games."

Vitya pushes the robe off Victor's shoulders and they stand together naked. There's a bruise on Vitya's thigh, must be from a fall. "You look good," he says.

"We're beautiful, it's true." Victor reaches down between Vitya's legs and finds the base of the plug with his fingers, presses it a little. "You're beautiful."

Vitya draws in breath. He pushes Victor back down onto the couch and climbs on top of him, kissing him, touching him, pressing his sharp hipbone down on Victor's cock and, Chris in the room or not, Victor rocks up into it.

"Stay with me all night," Victor says. "Stay with me." He's so close now, not quite there, but nearly. Hands on Vitya's body, mouth on Vitya's mouth.

He hears footsteps, Then Chris's hand comes down on his forehead, pushing back his hair. "Go ahead, mon chéri, I'm here." And Victor lets go, locking his leg over the back of Vitya's thighs and turning inside out with pleasure.

Vitya collapses on top of him, heavy and slack like he just came himself. Victor waits for his breath to start again, smiling at Chris over Vitya's shoulder. "Fifteen minutes, yes," Victor says.

"It's good you came already," Chris says. "Because I want to go first."

Vitya tenses up and Victor rubs his back. He can feel it in Vitya's body, his hands on Victor's shoulders, his legs between Victor's legs. That excitement that's so very close to fear.

Chris crouches down and puts his hand between Vitya's thighs, pressing at the plug like Victor did before. Vitya digs his fingers into Victor's shoulders and Victor puts his hand on Chris's arm.

"Kiss me, Chris," he says and when Chris bends down to him, winds his arm around Chris's neck. "Don't use yourself up," he says against Chris's mouth. "I still want you to fuck me."

"As many times as you want," Chris said. He kisses Victor again, then pulls away, holds up the plug from Victor's bag. "But you're going to have this inside you first." He puts his thumb on Vitya's lower lip. "You want to put it in, don't you?"

Vitya sucks Chris's thumb into his mouth, slowly lets it go. He's learning fast. "I want to."

He sits up and Victor turns over and raises his hips. "Your couch," he says to Chris.

"My cleaning service is used to it. But this time I'm going to send the bill to you." Chris hands Vitya the plug, talks him through how much lubricant to use, hand on Vitya's back as Vitya puts the head of the plug against Victor's asshole.

"Do I need to do anything first?" Vitya looks back at Chris.

"Victor's having too much fun already." Chris grins at Victor. "And he's always ready to go. Just go slow."

"Or fast," Victor says. "Just do it."

Vitya goes slow, pressing the plug so gently, Victor moves back against it, like it's suctioned to the shower floor and he's sitting down on it.

"Like that," he says and, for a few moments, all he thinks about is the plug pushing him open, like he always wants to be. He should have put it in on the train. The he breathes out. "Like that." He turns around and touches Vitya's cheek. "The same as you."

"Too bad I can't fuck you both at the same time," Chris says and it is too bad, really too bad.

Victor imagines it, holding Vitya's hand while they're getting there together, shaken by the same rhythm, held by the same hands, opened by the same cock. "If there were two of you," he says to Chris, "you wouldn't even answer my texts."

"I'm sure I could still fit you in somewhere." Chris pulls Victor up off the couch and embraces him, kisses him deep and slow, until Victor remembers Vitya is waiting and holds out his hand.

"Come on," Victor says. "Chris is going to fuck you."

"Bedroom or..." Chris says.

"Bedroom." Victor pulls Vitya after him, following Chris.

The lights are low, not candles, but diffuse and warm. The air is warm too, and the bedding is folded on a chair, just the white sheets on the bed.

"Are you ready?" Chris says and strokes Vitya's hair.

Vitya's fingers tighten again and Victor can feel it all: Victor's ready, he's not ready, he's excited, he's afraid.

"Only if you want to," Victor says. "But Chris is good, he'll be good to you."

"I want to," Vitya says. He's tight as a violin string, stretched thin and pitched so high. He turns to Chris and looks him in the eye. "Fuck me," he says. "I want you to fuck me."

"I will." Chris picks Vitya up and tosses him onto the bed. "I'll fuck you so well you won't want anyone else ever again."

"He's not that good," Victor says but it's Chris and right now it feels at least a little true.

They both look down at Vitya, naked on the bed, hair spilling out over the sheets. His arms are spread out and he's moving his thighs apart, starting to get hard again, and so eager. Victor wants to climb on himself, play some more right away. But it's Chris's turn.

Chris turns to Victor. "You really are so beautiful." Then he drops his robe, rather lovely himself, tall and present, so much flesh Victor hasn't got to touch yet.

Victor wraps his hand around Chris's cock, because it's his. "I should have blown you in the back of the taxi." Then he lets go and Chris gets onto the bed.

Vitya pushes up on his elbows to meet Chris. Chris straddles his body, hands and knees, and gives Vitya just the tip of his tongue to flicker against his own.

Then Chris pulls up Vitya's knees, spreads him apart so Victor can see the base of the plug against his skin. Chris's fingers drift around it and Vitya shivers.

"Take it out," Vitya says. He reaches down, he's going to do it himself, but Chris starts to pull, slowly.

Victor touches the plug that's inside him now. He pulls at it, pushes back. He doesn't want it gone but he wants to feel this too, with Vitya. He sits down on the bed beside them and touches Vitya's cheek with just two fingers.

And then he does feel it, that too-much twist and slide, the stretch, the relief and the loss, just like Vitya is feeling it.

"Tray's under the bed," Chris says and Victor finds it for him. Same blue tray, Friday-night-empty. Victor doesn't know if Chris keeps track but Victor always likes to see how full he can get it before Saturday morning brunch and blowjobs.

Then Chris presses Vitya back against the bed, pushing his thighs further apart and leaning in to kiss his mouth.

"Let me." Victor keeps his fingers on Vitya's cheek but he gets lubricant with his other hand and reaches down between them. He slicks Chris up and gives him a few strokes, less than he wants to.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Chris says to Vitya. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

A flush spreads over Vitya's face and shoulders. His cock stirs. And Victor can see and hear and feel the anticipation that hums through Vitya with Chris's words, the fear and desire like an ocean wave, covering him, pulling him under.

Just wait until he's inside you, Victor thinks at Vitya and there's a flicker in Vitya's eyes, one last beacon before he drowns.

"Chris," Victor says. And when Chris doesn't turn his head. "Chris."

Chris looks and Victor pulls one last kiss from him, draws Chris's tongue into his mouth, has that much of Chris inside of him first.

"Okay," Victor says. "Now fuck him."

Chris pulls Vitya's legs around his waist and moves into position, one hand on Vitya's thigh and the other on his own cock. Then he pushes in, slowly, slowly, gentle but relentless, eyes on Vitya's, and a look on his own face that makes Victor want to cry.

Vitya's breath stops. He sends out a hand, blindly, and Victor takes it again, palm to palm. Sweat beads on Vitya's forehead and his eyes shine as they look up at Chris.

When Chris is deep enough, he bends over Vitya, not moving, bracing himself on his hands, and waits until Vitya lifts his head to kiss him.

Victor watches Vitya's tongue push into Chris's mouth, his teeth bite Chris's lip. His head drops back onto the bed. "You said you were going to fuck me."

Chris laughs, one shout that shakes the bed. "Greedy," he says, with a smile he lets Victor share. And then he fucks Vitya.

He starts slow, but he always does that, lazy slides that nearly pull back out, teasing until it's not funny any more. But he doesn't make Vitya wait like he makes Victor wait.

Victor puts his hand, still slippery with lubricant, on Chris's shoulder as he settles into his rhythm. Victor's name should be there, a tattoo on Chris's skin: I was here, I claim this, this is mine. Then Victor watches Vitya's face.

Vitya's eyes keep closing and he keeps forcing them back open, staring up at Chris staring down at him. Even if Victor couldn't feel him through their linked hands, he'd know that there are no more thoughts in Vitya's head, just the feel of Chris's cock pushing at him, through him, heating the blood that flushes crimson on his cheeks.

Their breath huffs out together and Victor finds he's breathing with them, diaphragm contracting with every thrust of Chris's hips, every squeeze of Vitya's fingers.

Vitya's cock stirs and Victor watches it strain against Vitya's belly. If Victor had a hand free, he'd reach between them and jack it for him, slip slide along with the rock of the bed. Chris had the first one, why should he get the second as well? But Victor doesn't want to break circuit between them.

"Touch yourself," Chris says and Vitya does, hand curling around his cock. He can't seem to move, though, except his thumb behind the head and his eyes blinking open again and again.

Chris speeds up and Victor can see he's losing himself. He's working Vitya too hard and Vitya's finger nails press into Victor's palm. But Vitya doesn't speak, doesn't even let out a groan, pushed too far but part of him wanting it all the same.

And it's so familiar, so completely right, that it takes Victor longer than it should to squeeze Chris's shoulder and make him take notice.

"Can you come?" Chris asks. He drops back just a little, still riding the edge of too much.

"Yes," Vitya says but his hand isn't moving any faster and he's really not that close.

"Let me." Victor kneels up and he does reach between them, bumping against Chris's side to keep the contact there. His hand is still slick enough for some slide and he rubs Vitya with just the right touch, the way he loves it best. "I'll get you there."

Chris gives Victor half a scowl but Victor doesn't care. This one is his. If Chris can't get the job done himself, it's his own fault.

But it's all three of them together, Victor knows it, Chris knows it, Vitya knows it, knows it with his whole open body, tells it to them both with every gasp and clutch and roll.

And Victor knows it's time. He doesn't say anything but he gives Vitya's hand a squeeze just before Vitya squeezes back. Just before Vitya's face twists into a frown and his legs clench around Chris's waist and he comes, just as hard as before, just as sweetly, Chris driving into him and Victor holding his hand.

Victor holds on until Vitya's finished. Then he puts that hand back on Chris's shoulder.

Chris gasps like he's trying to laugh but he doesn't have the time right now. He's still fucking Vitya, hitching Vitya's legs back up with one hand. "I'm going to come inside you," he says.

Vitya still hasn't caught his breath but he nods, just a little, and swings his hand up to grab Chris's hair.

Give it a twist, Victor thinks and Vitya does and they share a look that's like a smile.

Then Chris groans from the back of his throat and his hips jerk and he's coming, pushing too deep, making Vitya groan too.

Victor slides his arm around Chris's back and leans his forehead on Chris's shoulder. He can't feel Chris the way he feels Vitya but he doesn't need to. He already knows the way Chris's muscles pull tight and the way he sucks in breath and the way the sweat comes up on his forehead.

The way he collapses, heavy and smiling, pinning Victor to whatever surface they're on, until Victor swears and makes him roll away.

But Chris doesn't collapse. He catches himself on his hands, still half inside Vitya, and looks down at him. "Thank you," he says and the words rasp a little, like his throat is raw. He touches Vitya's face and Vitya leans up into it, moves against Chris's hand.

Chris pulls out, then lies down beside Vitya, tugging Victor's arm until he does the same, pulling them all into a tangle of limbs and trapping Vitya's hair under his shoulders.

"You're welcome," Vitya says, the dazed look still on his face, and Chris nuzzles at his throat.

"It's my turn now," Victor says. He touches Vitya's cheek and tips his head over so he's facing Victor. He speaks against Vitya's mouth, not kissing, just their breath and lips brushing together. "Are you ready?"

"Are you ready?" Chris strokes Victor's thigh.

"Try me and see." Victor looks at Chris over Vitya's shoulder, then flicks his tongue against Vitya's lips, teasing them open for a kiss.

Vitya shifts against him but it's Chris's hand that reaches for Victor's cock. It's too soon for Victor really but he's rising under Chris's fingers anyway, harder than he needs to be, because he's got to have Vitya while he can.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Victor whispers, hand on Vitya's flank, curving around his ass. "You're mine now. Do you want to be mine?"

Vitya doesn't speak, but he doesn't have to, his longing is so loud it rings in Victor's ears, throbs through his blood and bone.

Before Vitya can even press another kiss on Victor's mouth, Victor rolls to his feet, grabs Vitya's ankles, and yanks him down to the end of the bed, flat on his back, legs in the air.

Right now, Victor says but maybe that was only to Vitya. Right now, while Vitya is still glassy-eyed and pliant, over-sensitive and damp with sweat, Chris's come still hot inside him.

"Victor," Chris says and comes to him with a handful of lubricant and an admiring smile. "I look forward to your performance." He settles himself behind Vitya, hands on Vitya's temples, stroking Vitya's forehead with his thumbs.

Victor moves closer, eyes on Vitya's eyes. His pulse is beating in his throat, his mouth is dry. He can count the number of times he's fucked someone before on three fingers, it's never what he wants to do.

But he wants it now, so badly he's almost sick with it. He kisses the sole of Vitya's foot. And then he pushes in.

Vitya's eyes go wide and maybe Victor should have taken longer. But Vitya doesn't gasp or wince. He just stares at Victor, impaled and hungry, like he could take them both all weekend long and still not be satisfied. "Fuck me," he says and Victor does.

He has to adjust a little but it doesn't take long to find the best position, the best cadence. Vitya moves with him, fingers crumpling the bedsheets, and eyes still fixed on Victor.

And Victor can feel it all, not just Vitya's ankles in his hands, not just Vitya tight around his cock, but himself being filled up, not by the plug that's still inside him, but by his own cock. He's giving and receiving, fucking and being fucked. Too much, too much, sympathetic resonance between him and Vitya, back and forth, so they are vibrating to a shared note, a plucked string.

There's a flicker in Victor's peripheral vision and he has just a sliver of attention left to be sad that Chris can't feel this too but soon that's gone as well.

He speeds up, at least he thinks so. Vitya's mouth is open and he's breathing with a hitch, with a sob in his chest. Victor's chest is aching too.

Then the string breaks and he comes, knees weakening and blood throbbing and heart breaking. Too soon for Vitya but Victor knows he feels it all just the same.

Victor stays upright until he's done, then he lets his knees take him down, crouching on the floor, cheek against the bed and Vitya's knee.

He can feel Vitya quivering, the muscles in his thigh twitching, and realizes that he's shaking too. He heaves himself onto the bed.

Vitya crawls up, half on top of Victor, and kisses his face, his neck, slowly but not lazily. He still wants more and Victor wishes he could give it to him right away.

Chris rolls up beside Victor and kisses him too. "I hope you'll have me like that sometime," he says. "I had no idea."

"Chris," Vitya says. He reaches across Victor and puts his fingers on Chris's mouth.

"If only I could indulge you right away," Chris sighs. He teases Vitya's fingertips with his tongue. "Go clean up and then maybe we can find something to put inside you."

"Something good," Vitya says. He shifts against Victor and pulls him over for a kiss. "Again," he murmurs.

"You must be very proud," Chris says to Victor. He reaches over and pushes Vitya's shoulder. "My poor sheets, go."

Vitya frowns but he slides off the bed and leaves the room. The air that fills his space is cool against Victor's skin.

"What will we do with him?" Victor says.

"He'd look pretty with a dildo in his mouth."

"What will we do with him after tonight?"

"He'll look just as pretty in the morning." Chris props himself up on his side. "If we wake up and he's still here, then we'll figure it out." Chris grins. "And if he's gone, you'll look nearly as pretty with a dildo in your mouth."

"Fuck off," Victor says but he pulls Chris down onto him and wraps his arms around him, buries his face in Chris's neck. "Fuck off, Chris."

Chris puts his hand on Victor's head. "Do you want to keep that plug in?"

"Until you have something better to put into me."

"Better go make sure the boy isn't putting my toothpaste tube into him right now." Chris rolls away. "I'll change the bed."

When Victor gets to the bathroom, the door is ajar and the shower is running. Through the glass of the stall, he can see Vitya, hair bundled up and face up to the spray. His hands are moving over his own body, touching himself slowly as the water runs over him.

Victor stops and watches him. Maybe it is narcissistic, but Vitya is unbearably attractive like this. His eyes closed, mouth open, hands sliding up his flanks, over his chest, across his lips, trailing down his throat.

Victor touches himself too, mirroring Vitya's hands on his own body, until the steam fogs up the door and he can only see the blur behind it. So he slides the door open and steps in.

Vitya turns to Victor at once, hands on Victor's face and tongue on Victor's lips. Victor opens for it, just a slide back with the tip of his tongue. "Slow down," he says. "Tease me a little first." He presses their foreheads together. "I love how much you want it."

"Don't be mean," Vitya says but he turns them both around so it's Victor under the shower head, water streaming down his face. He squeezes out a handful of shower gel and all at once the shower smells like Chris, that subtle sweet tobacco fragrance that's in all his products.

Vitya's hands on Victor are half good, half bad. Victor is more sensitized, over-stimulated, than he realised. But he wants it anyhow and it's not long before he's sliding his gel-slick hands over Vitya too.

Vitya keeps trying to catch Victor's mouth and Victor keeps moving it away, not letting him have it, but caressing him with purpose, because it's so sweet to see Vitya's hungry face and feel his annoyance mount to desperation.

"Fuck," Vitya says and grabs a handful of Victor's wet hair, pulling his head back.

"Manners," Victor says but he lets Vitya kiss him this time, tongue plunging deep and thigh sliding between Victor's legs.

The bathroom door clicks and Chris slides the shower open. "I put in the largest stall I could but it's still not big enough for three."

"Too bad," Victor says. He runs his hand down Vitya's back to cup his buttock, eyes on Chris.

But Vitya turns to Chris as well. "Again," he says.

"I will," Chris says. "I'll fuck you until you can't move, if that's what you want." He holds out a towel. "But give me some time to recover. Have a drink of water. Suck Victor's dick for while."

Victor turns off the water. He gives Vitya a push and Vitya steps out of the shower. Chris lets Vitya kiss him once before he steps in. "Are you staying?" he says to Victor.

"I'm going to get my dick sucked," Victor says and steps out too.

There's a robe for Vitya out on Chris's bed and Victor picks up his own from the living room. In the kitchen, he pours mineral water for them both and leans against the counter, watching Vitya watching him while they drink. There's still wine in the decanter and Victor tips some into his empty water glass.

"Do you want some more?" he asks and means the wine.

But Vitya sets down his glass and pulls Victor's robe open. "I want some more." He touches Victor's belly, then presses against him, his whole body tight to Victor's.

Vitya's hair is still tied up and Victor pulls it free so it falls down his back, silky as the robe he's wearing. Victor puts his mouth to Vitya's ear. "Are you going to suck me now?"

Vitya's hands tighten on Victor's back and there's no need for him to answer out loud, his body is shouting with it.

Victor boosts himself up onto Chris's kitchen counter. He lets Vitya push open his thighs and bend between them, no time for teasing, just Vitya's tongue on the head of his cock, circling in a move Victor knows all too well.

Vitya is unpractised but, as far as Victor can remember, he's always been good at this. While Vitya takes Victor in his mouth, Victor tries to remember the first cock he sucked, if it was before this or afterwards.

That flat musky taste of skin. The way the cock moved against his tongue. The way the other boy squirmed and rolled his hips and came almost right away, too soon for Victor to move away. That first mouthful was a little bitter but the memory is sweet.

Vitya's mouth moves on him slowly, one hand on the inside of Victor's thigh, the other cupping his balls, trailing back to touch the base of the plug that's still filling Victor up.

"It's too soon for me to get it up again," Victor says, "but it feels good." He strokes Vitya's hair, still damp around his face. "You're good at this." And his cock does move inside Vitya's mouth but Victor wishes he could say more than just hello.

Chris comes into the kitchen and stops for a moment, naked and tousled, watching Vitya with his lips on Victor's cock.

Victor picks up his glass of wine and toasts Chris silently. After he drinks, he holds out his hand. "Come here and kiss me."

"You're sitting where I make my salads." Chris crosses the tiled floor but he stops behind Vitya. When his hands come down on Vitya's shoulders, Vitya moves into it like a cat, humming in the back of his throat and around Victor's cock.

Chris pulls the robe off Vitya's shoulders and drops it onto the floor. "You should always be naked," he says. "Naked with a cock inside of you."

Vitya's hands clutch Victor's thighs and his mouth stops, although he doesn't take it away. His face flushes and Victor touches his cheek. Vitya's whole body is vibrating with need and Victor lets it shake through himself as well.

"Suck me for a while and then I'll fuck you right here." Chris slides his hand onto Vitya's neck, underneath his curtain of hair. He looks at Victor. "Unless you're ready?"

"Just come here." Victor puts his hand on Vitya's head and eases him back. "Show Chris what you can do."

They all reposition, Chris beside Victor, Vitya dropping down to Chris. Victor turning to Chris and kissing him like it's a lazy summer afternoon and he wants to take a while.

It's almost a relief, slowing down a little, but when Chris tips back his head and Victor leans in to kiss his throat, Victor looks down at Vitya and this doesn't feel so slow any more.

Vitya is kneeling in front of Chris, his discarded robe bunched up beneath him. His hands wrapped around Chris's ass, his eyes closed, his hair falling over his cheek. His mouth wrapped around Chris's cock like he's never wanted anything else. His whole body so needy and so grateful Victor wants to switch with him right now, not to take his place, but to be Vitya, sixteen and having everything he wants.

"Chris," Victor says. He slides one bare foot down Vitya's back. "You have to fuck Vitya." He shifts on the counter so the plug inside him presses in, put his mouth to Chris's mouth. "You have to fuck him."

Vitya shivers and Victor feels it. Puts his hand on Vitya's head as he moves over Chris's cock. Winds his fingers into Chris's damp hair. Opens for Chris's kiss that's not lazy, not slow, not sweet.

"He'll fuck you," Victor says to Vitya. "He has to fuck you."

Chris reaches down and finds Victor's fingers, adds the weight of his hand to Vitya's head. "You're more eager than he is, mon chéri."

"We're the same," Victor says and kisses Chris again, sucks on Chris's tongue like Vitya is sucking on his cock. "We both want you."

Chris stops for a moment – his mouth, his hands, his body – and when Victor looks at him, there's an expression on his face Victor has only seen before on the ice. He's more naked somehow, naked and vulnerable.

Then Chris presses his forehead to Victor's. "Almost time," he says. "Vitya, you're so good, I'm going to fuck you soon."

Victor can feel the throb of pride from Vitya. Vitya pulls back for a breath and to wipe the saliva that's drooling from his mouth. He looks up, not at Chris, but at Victor, and moves his hand to touch the inside of Victor's thigh.

"I want to watch Chris fuck you," Victor says and he wishes he could crane down far enough to take one kiss from Vitya's mouth. "So convince him that it's time."

When Vitya goes back down on Chris, Victor looks at Chris again, not kissing now, just staring, breathing together through their open mouths.

"Now?" Victor says. "I don't want to wait."

"If you keep talking like that," Chris says, "I'll lose it before we even get started." He puts his hand onto Vitya's cheek. "Now."

Vitya pulls back from Chris's cock. He doesn't speak, looks like he can't find the words any more, even in Russian. But he stands and looks at both of them with eyes so hot they're going to burn away and leave him blind.

"I changed the bed," Chris says.

"Here," Victor says. "You said you'd have him right here." He slides off the counter. Stepping closer, he puts his arm around Vitya's shoulders, supporting him.

"Here?" Chris says to Vitya.

"Now!" Vitya wraps his fingers around Chris's cock. Mine, he's saying. Ours.

"I don't cook with lubricant, so–"

But Victor is already halfway to the living room to grab the bottle from the warmer. He's nearly running, like he's afraid they'll just start and finish in the time it takes for those few steps.

But he's only gone long enough for Vitya to press himself to Chris, one arm around his neck, and kiss him. Victor stops to look at them: at Chris's hand sliding down Vitya's back, fingers between his buttocks, while Vitya squirms against him.

"Over the table," Victor says and sets down the bottle. He throws open three drawers before he finds a stack of towels. "That's what you want, Vitya."

Vitya turns his head and Victor steps in to kiss him too. "Look at me," Vitya whispers.

"I'll always look at you." Victor runs his thumb over Vitya's bottom lip.

Then he hooks a chair out of the way, pushes back a bowl of oranges, and moves Vitya into position: arms on the table, back bent, legs spread. "Are you ready for Chris to fuck you?" He stands behind Vitya himself, hips against Vitya's ass, stroking Vitya's sides and back. Taking one quick handful of Vitya's cock.

Chris comes up behind him, cock pressing against Victor's ass, and puts his tongue to Victor's ear. "Are you sure you don't want to be the lucky one?"

"I already am," Victor says and moves out of the way.

"You said you'd fuck me," Vitya says, petulant and shaking. "Fuck me."

"You're the best thing I've ever had at this table," Chris says and puts his cock into Vitya.

Vitya's face twists and he sucks in air. His hair falls over his face and Victor pulls it back so he can see Vitya's expression.

"Chris is right," Victor says. "You're so beautiful like this, it's the only thing you want." It's the only thing Victor wants, to watch Vitya struggle around Chris's cock, moving back against it like it's not enough. He puts his hand on Vitya's back and when Chris starts to thrust, slow and deep, he strokes Vitya's skin in time with Chris.

The table creaks and Vitya sobs out a breath with every rock of Chris's hips. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open, his tongue flicking out like he's searching for something.

Victor puts two fingers into Vitya's mouth and Vitya closes around them, sucking and working with his tongue. Victor pushes in when Chris does, fucking Vitya's mouth, but it still isn't enough. Not for Vitya. Not for Victor.

"It's a sturdy table," Chris says. "But you're going shopping for more tea towels."

Victor climbs up in front of Vitya, drawing up his knees. "You can take more," he says and Vitya looks at him, half unseeing, then opens his mouth for Victor's cock.

No more waiting, Victor's cock is stiffening against Vitya's tongue. Victor watches his own face, his own mouth stretching wide around his cock, his own glazed expression, and the plug inside of him isn't anything like enough right now. He wants to be opened up completely, pierced and almost choking with it.

He strokes Vitya's hair, gently, thumbs away a drop from Vitya's watering eyes. "I'll fuck you too," he says and starts to move.

It's an awkward position but that's okay, he doesn't want to go too deep, or knows he shouldn't anyhow. Vitya's mouth slides over him, no finesse, just keeping his teeth out of the way and his tongue right there. Just wet and hot and open for Victor like that's the only thing either of them wants.

Victor looks up, at Chris's cock moving into Vitya, at Chris's eyes catching his own. The light in the kitchen is bright, too blue to be sexy, but Chris still looks like he's glowing.

"Do you want a turn after?" Chris says. He takes one hand from Vitya's hips and stretches out to Victor, touching his cheek when Victor leans in.

"Together." Victor doesn't look away from Chris but he strokes Vitya's temple again. "Vitya wants us together."

"If we can." Chris smiles. "Keep looking at me." He wraps his hand around Vitya's cock.

Victor keeps looking. Chris has good control and they can come simultaneously maybe one time in three. But there's never been someone else between them. "We'll do it together."

They keep moving, in and out of Vitya as he shudders and blinks, staring at each other like it's the end of the world.

"You're taking us so well," Chris says. "You're so strong, so beautiful. No one else could take us both like this. I want to have you every day."

Victor can feel each word settle on Vitya like a caressing hand, stroking every inch of his skin. Vitya arches his back with pride and need, tears leak from his eyes.

And maybe they'll never come at all, just stay here in this moment, fucking Vitya together until they're all consumed and blow away like ash.

But Chris leans forward. "Soon, Victor. Get ready." He squeezes Vitya's flank. "We're both going to come inside you, that's how good you are."

And Victor can feel it, almost there, reaching to catch that last bit of momentum, just, right there, yes. "Chris," he says. "Vitya."

Chris grabs his wrist and it pulls him along, both of them at once, coming into Vitya while they all shake together at Chris's kitchen table.

"You don't have to swallow," Victor says when he can speak but Vitya already has, letting Victor's cock slip away and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Chris's hand is still on Vitya's cock, stroking him because he didn't come with them. But Victor can't let him have it. "I'll get him off," he says and climbs down and takes Chris's hand away.

"I'll hold him up for you." Chris gets his arms around Vitya and Vitya leans back against him, still breathing through his swollen mouth and shiny with sweat.

And Victor slides to the floor and gets his mouth around Vitya's cock, stretches around Vitya like Vitya just stretched around him. He wants to take his time but Vitya is so close, Victor can tell, so he just takes Vitya all in, deep-throating him while he gasps.

Vitya's fingers twist in Victor's hair. Victor gives him one last swirl of the tongue and Vitya comes, half in Victor's mouth and half on Victor's face, knees buckling so that Chris has to brace and haul him up against his chest.

Victor swallows, then grabs a towel and wipes his face. "Now he's spoiled for anyone else."

Chris chuckles. "Spoiled and used up." He kisses Vitya's cheek. "Come with me."

"Wait." Victor leans in and kisses Vitya. Even now, Vitya's mouth is still eager, tongue searching for Victor's. "Vitya, here's your medal." He puts his mouth on Vitya's neck, just where it joins the shoulder, and sucks while Vitya digs his nails into Victor's shoulder. Victor doesn't pull away until he knows it's going to bruise.

Vitya touches the spot gently; it's red now, but darkening. He smiles at Victor like he's won gold, like he wants Victor to mark him all over his body.

"What happened to the no marks rule?" Chris asks.

"That still applies to you," Victor says.

Chris tips Vitya's head back and puts his own mouth on the spot for just a moment. "You're such a bitch, Victor."

Victor flips his hair but it's still too damp to be properly dramatic. "That's why you can't get enough of me."

Chris laughs. "My turn to deal with this wanton," he says and pulls Vitya out of the room with him.

Victor hates to see them go but he doesn't follow. He can't grudge Chris his turn to have Vitya feel him up in the shower. Instead he dampens Chris's blue-striped tea towel and wipes himself down there in the kitchen.

While he listens to the water running, Victor pours himself more wine. The whole room, the whole apartment smells like sex and he has to hold the glass right over his nose to properly get the bouquet.

Tomorrow he can think about this, Vitya, Chris. Tonight he just wants to have it, everything, all he can. While he can.

And that's too much like thinking so he gulps the wine like Vitya did before and heads off to the bedroom.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed when Chris and Vitya come in. Vitya stumbles over and climbs up on his lap, straddling him and pressing his damp skin into Victor's chest.

"You're not done," Victor says against Vitya's ear. "Are you done?"

"I'm not done," Vitya says but he's lax in Victor's arms. "I want more."

"We need at least two more people to keep up with you." Chris puts his hand on Vitya's head, then sits down next to Victor. "But Victor is too jealous to share."

Vitya puts his mouth on Victor's neck, open but unmoving, he's too tired to even kiss.

Victor pulls him closer. He's not ready to let go. "You can have more," he says.

"Let me find something to put in you," Chris says. "While we recover."

Vitya shifts against Victor and Victor pictures Vitya on the bed, limp but writhing around Chris's latest toy, and it's a lovely image. But he thumbs the suck mark on Vitya's neck and whispers in Vitya's ear. "Sleep for a while, I'll wake you."

"Don't forget," Vitya says and lets Victor lay him down on the sheets. He's drifting out before Victor even stretches out beside him.

"Nap too?" Chris says.

"We can't sleep," Victor says. "We can't leave him. What if he goes away?"

"He has to go sometime." Chris brushes Vitya's hair off his forehead with a gentle finger. "What about you? Want something else in? Something bigger? A vibe?"

"You know what I want," Victor says. "I can wait."

"And you always do get what you want, don't you?" Chris stretches out too, arm across the bed just above Vitya's head, and plays with Victor's hair.

Victor puts his arm over Vitya and onto Chris, hand on his ribs, and they whisper for a while about skating, about life, about memories.

"Stay awake," Chris says and rolls off the bed. "I'll be back and we can rouse him together."

Victor lets him go. Then he props himself up on his side and looks down at Vitya.

He's on his side, knees curling up and one hand half on Victor's arm. Hair splashed out behind him, cheeks pink with sleep. Bruise on his hip, Victor's mark on his neck. Mouth open and he's drooling unattractively on the pillow. Victor makes a mental note to make sure it goes back on Chris's side of the bed.

There's no clock to check and his phone is on the coffee table. But Victor knows when it's time and he's just touching his mouth to Vitya's when Chris comes back into the room.

Chris stops by the bed and looks down at them. "Two of you is nice," he says. "If demanding."

Victor runs his tongue inside Vitya's lower lip and imagines two of Chris and him in between them, taking both of them at once like Vitya did. A shiver runs through him and he closes his eyes. Vitya stirs and Victor knows he felt it too.

Vitya flips onto his back and opens his eyes, blinking, but not seeing. Then he stretches and wakes, pulling Victor against him and holding out his other arm to Chris.

Chris lies down beside Victor and Vitya, tangling himself with them, kissing Vitya's face and throat. He and Victor take turns with Vitya's mouth and Vitya rolls between them, moving against them like he's always been there to warm their bed.

"Tell me when you're ready," Victor says. He runs his hand up the inside of Vitya's thigh. "You can go another round, I know it."

"Allow me," Chris says and bends over Vitya, hand on his hip, mouth on his cock.

Vitya pushes up, hips rising to Chris, and he lets his mouth fall away from Victor's while his feet slide against the sheets. His cock stiffens in Chris's mouth, faster than it has any right to after everything they've already done.

Chris doesn't stop and Victor pushes at his forehead. "Don't make him come, you bastard."

Chris rolls his eyes at Victor but he does stop, with his mouth at least, and his fingers around Vitya's cock aren't moving. "So demanding," he says.

Victor rolls his eyes back. "Vitya," he says. "Are you ready?"

"Are you?" Vitya says. He reaches for Victor and squeezes his cock. "How long until you're ready?"

"We're ready now," Victor says. He leans in and kisses Vitya one more time. "I want you to fuck me."

Vitya's eyes open wide and his hand around Victor's cock tightens.

"You know how much you like being fucked? I do too." Victor looks over at Chris. "Chris will take you through it."

"Coach Chris," Chris says. "I can teach you to fuck yourself." He dips in to kiss Vitya. "You'll be so good at it."

Vitya leans into Victor. "I'll fuck you," he says and the words still make him flush but his chin is up and Victor can tell that he's excited.

"How do you want it, Victor?" Chris says. "Here on the corner?"

"No," Victor says. "Let's use the bench."

When they get to Chris's spare room, Vitya can't stop staring.

It's a perfectly normal room: the same clean white paint as Chris's bedroom, shelving neatly stacked with boxes and books, soft lighting, a jade plant standing where it will catch the sun from the window during the day. A mirror standing by the closet door.

But instead of a bed, there's a table, thickly upholstered in black vinyl.

Chris comes up behind Vitya and wraps his arms around Vitya's shoulders. "It's not for card games," he says. "Victor, do you want the centre raised?"

Victor presses up to Vitya too so he's trapped between him and Chris. "No, just the wedge." He nuzzles Vitya's cheek. "You smell so clean, too clean." That tobacco scent again on Vitya's skin and Victor wants to cover it up with his own hands and mouth and come.

"How should I smell?" Vitya says. He slides his hands over Victor's body, touching him like he belongs here, like Victor belongs to him.

"Like wine and sweat and sex," Victor says. "Like me."

"Such poetry," Chris says and goes to find the wedge.

"I don't want to wait." Victor turns Vitya so he can see them both in the mirror, tall and pale, naked and hungry and twined together. "I've been waiting all evening for you." And it's true, every moment since the knock came on the door Victor has been waiting for this one. "Tell me what you're going to do to me."

Vitya's eyes squeeze closed but he speaks out loud: "I'm going to fuck you."

"You're going to fuck me," Victor says. "You're not the only one who needs it."

Vitya laughs and Victor kisses him, pulls him close, Vitya's cock hard against Victor's belly. Pushes him back towards the table.

Victor sits down, thighs open for Vitya to stand between. He takes both their cocks in hand, pressing them together. And he really can't wait. He was going to make Vitya and Chris tease him, touch and play and wind him up. But he's teased already, he's wound so far he's going to snap, and Vitya's fingers curling over his own are ready too.

"A matched set," Chris says. He sets down the wedge and a cushion for Victor's back. And he wraps his own hand around them both. "You know it's my birthday soon?"

"Vitya's going to fuck me now," Victor says. "Right now."

"Right now," Vitya echoes. He leans in and kisses Victor, plunging his tongue into Victor's mouth like a promise.

"I'll leave the ice cubes in the freezer then," Chris says. "But kiss me too, before we start." He tugs on Vitya's hair and Vitya turns to him, pressing close and letting Chris arch him back.

"You can have another turn with him after." Victor tugs on Vitya's shoulders, digs his toes into Chris's calf. He wants it to be light and fun, but he can hear the desperation in his voice.

Chris lets Vitya go. "Victor," he says. "Take whatever you need."

Victor squeezes Chris's hand, thank you, and then he moves back on the table, fixing the cushion under his head and letting Chris slide the wedge in under his hips as he pulls his legs up. And then he's ready, thighs spread, ass raised. Throat dry and chest aching because he needs it now, right now.

"What should I do?" Vitya asks. He touches the base of the plug, plucking at it.

Chris comes up behind him. "Pull it out, slowly. Twist it a little." He puts his hands on Vitya's shoulders. "Remember how it felt coming out of you."

Vitya starts to pull. Too slowly for Victor but the look on Vitya's face, that wrinkle back between his brows, as he concentrates.

Victor reaches out and touches it, picking the crease up on his fingertip like a item in a mobile game. Presses it to his own forehead where the muscle won't fold. And he holds his breath as the bulb slides out. He misses it already.

"Look at him," Chris says. "Ask if he's okay."

Vitya looks at Victor. His fingers tighten around Victor's ankle. "Are you okay?"

Victor wants to smile but his face won't go that way right now. It's not the Botox, it's desire that's cramping his muscles and grinding his bones. "Do it."

"Hold out your hand," Chris says and squirts lubricant into Vitya's palm. Victor knows Chris wants to slide Vitya's cock through his own fingers but he's keeping his hands off for Victor.

Vitya slicks himself up and moves closer. He puts the tip of his cock against Victor's asshole, just rests it there while he looks at Victor. "Are you okay?"

"Do it, Vitya." Victor presses forward, his thigh muscles tightening. "I won't be okay until you put it in."

"It's all right," Chris says. He puts his hands on Vitya's shoulders. "Victor knows what he wants. Go slow, even if he tells you not to."

"Fuck you, Chris," Victor says. He reaches for Vitya's hip. "Slow, fast, just please now."

Vitya swallows, takes a breath, grabs the edge of the table. And finally he presses his cock into Victor.

It's slow, like Chris told him, but that's okay. Victor wants to feel every millimetre, every millisecond of Vitya pushing inside him. Like Vitya felt Victor pushing inside him.

"You feel it," Victor says because he can feel it too. The inside and the outside. Vitya opening him up, his own flesh squeezing Vitya, squeezing his own cock, even though nobody is touching it right now. It's too much but it's going to get even better. "As deep as you can."

"Stop for a moment, so he can get used to it," Chris says, and Vitya stops, hips brushing Victor's ass and eyes locked on Victor's face.

"I hope I'm never used to it." Victor strokes Vitya's thigh. "Fuck me now, just fuck me."

"You do look pretty with a cock in you," Chris says. He picks up Victor's ankles and pulls his legs around Vitya's waist. "Go ahead, don't pull back too far, just fuck him like we fucked you."

Vitya puts his arms under Victor's calves, takes one more breath, smiles like the dazzling sun, and fucks Victor.

He's tentative at first but Victor gives him a minute and he moves more confidently, rocking forward as he thrusts, giving Victor as much as he can. "Is it good?" Vitya asks.

It's not good like Chris is good, smooth and precise and knowing just how to tease Victor until he's gasping or swearing. But it's good like those first few messy kisses, raw and unpractised and joyful and Victor loves it.

"You're amazing," he says. "Beautiful and amazing."

Chris laughs. "Do you always jerk off in front of a mirror, Victor?" And he steps behind Vitya and takes Victor's ankles around his own waist.

He moves against Vitya, with him, like they're fucking Victor together. His chest and hips and cock against Vitya's back, his thumbs stroking Victor's calves. "Take his cock in your hand," he says to Vitya and Vitya does.

The sensations are hitting Victor like a waterfall, relentless and so strong they're almost painful. He puts one hand over Vitya's on his cock and they stroke it together. They both need it so much, to have, to be had, to be together.

And while they're both moving and staring and taking the same rough breaths, Chris leans over Vitya's shoulder and starts to speak.

"Did you know," he says, "when I was younger than you are now, I had a poster of you on my bedroom wall?" He lets go of Victor's calf long enough to draw Vitya's hair back from his face so he can press his cheek to Vitya's temple.

"You were in a shiny blue skating costume with your hair down your back. Posing on the ice, not quite smiling." Chris is speaking to Vitya but his eyes are on Victor and Victor looks back at him.

"So strong and so beautiful," Chris says. "Like a fairy tale prince. Every day on the ice, I wanted to catch you."

The story itself isn't surprising. Victor's been told it over and over again by the skaters that he meets, some of them gushing, some almost resentful. And Victor is always pleased, proud to be chased after and so seldom ever caught.

But he's never heard this from Chris. Not at seventeen, not at twenty-two. Not on the podium or in a hotel bar. And not while he's naked in Chris's flat, gasping for breath, drowning in desire.

The link between him and Vitya opens wide and that flood of pride and astonishment covers both of them together, mixing with the arousal until it's all one rushing feeling, carrying them along. Vitya's pace stutters but Chris moves with him and gets him back on track.

"I worked hard to catch you," Chris says. He's still looking into Victor's eyes, more relentless than any fuck could be. "And every night, in bed, I put one hand on the poster and the other on my cock and thought about touching you while I came."

The words roll through Victor and he shakes with it, Vitya is shaking too. It's Chris's hands on him, Chris's cock inside him, both of them, fucked out and nearly helpless.

Victor presses his heels into Chris's back. He stretches out his hand and catches Chris's arm with the tips of his fingers. And for a moment the link opens up and he can feel Chris with them too, all three together, every sensation, pulled down by the undertow.

And it's Chris who comes first, against Vitya's back. His eyes almost close but he keeps them on Victor, his hands tighten on Victor's calves.

Vitya's eyes go wide when he feels it and he turns his head for Chris's mouth. Chris can't kiss him, he's hardly there, he's coming so hard.

Victor is almost there, he wants to be there now, right now, with Chris, but it's Vitya who plunges, jerking his hips and biting Chris's lip so hard Victor feels the pain on his own mouth.

"Now, Victor," Chris says while Vitya moves back against him, eyes half closed, hand squeezing Victor's cock. Pulling out of Victor fast, too fast. "Now."

Now. The breath stops in Victor's lungs and he comes, harder than he should be able to after he's come three times already, better than it should be, probably five years of his life draining from him, and he's glad to feel them go.

Vitya collapses over him before he's done and Victor can't flail an arm to catch him or even stop his hair from falling over Victor's wet belly.

Even Chris looks shaky. He slides to the floor beside the table, one arm hitched up over Vitya's back and the other finding Victor's shoulder.

And when Victor looks down at him, the moment bubbles over and they laugh so hard the table shakes, their bodies shake, while Vitya turns his dazed face to stare at them.

"Chris," Victor says when he can speak again. He sits up, one hand on Vitya's hair, and tips his head to the side. "Mark me."

"What about the rule?" Chris asks but he's already on his feet, bending over Victor.

"Do it now before I change my mind." Victor pulls Chris's head down. "The same as Vitya's."

Chris doesn't ask again. He sucks on Victor's skin, worrying with his teeth, and as the pain blossoms, Victor knows he'll be carrying this bruise for at least a week. He hopes it's two.

When Chris raises his head, Victor catches him for a kiss, slow and lazy and satisfied, as much as Victor is ever satisfied. It's only when Vitya kisses Victor's thigh that Victor remembers that he's there.

"Look at you," Chris says to Vitya. "You're the one who fucked Victor and you're still covered in both our come." He strokes Vitya's face. "You look like you enjoy it."

Vitya pushes himself to his feet. "I can still...more." He reaches for Chris. "More."

"I wish." Chris looks at Victor. "You?"

The way Victor feels right now, he's not sure if he'll ever be able to come again, not sure he'll even need to. But Vitya still looks so eager. He takes Vitya's hand. "Chris will find something to put inside you. We'll watch you. We'll touch you."

Vitya presses up to Victor for a kiss, slow but still not satisfied. Behind him, Chris plays with Vitya's hair and Victor keeps his eyes open to watch Chris smiling down at them.

Then Victor realises he's got to get to the bathroom before he spoils the mood. He pushes Vitya back gently. "Tell Chris you want the purple vibe. That's the best one." He turns to Chris. "Wait for me."

"I made an ice mould for you," Chris calls after him. "If you change your mind."

In the bathroom, Victor stops at the mirror before he leaves and brushes his fingers over Chris's suck mark on his skin. He wants to write Chris's name there, have Chris sign his work.

And then he feels it happen. Like a cool breath of air over all his skin. He doesn't need Chris to open the door and meet his eyes in the mirror to tell him Vitya's gone.

"I didn't even leave the room," Chris says. "Just turned my back for a moment. His clothes are gone too."

Victor turns and leans against the counter top. "You wished him here." It's not even a question. "Am I too old for you now or something?"

Chris smiles. "Nearly too young," he says. "But..." His eyes flick away.

"Tell me," Victor says.

"I wanted to be your first." Chris holds up his hands, like he has a point to make, then drops them to his sides. "That's all."

"First what? First kiss? First hand on my dick? First to fuck me speechless?"

"I don't know." Chris shrugs and looks away, the moment is passing.

Victor goes to him and takes his face in both hands. "Chris, you were my first. Not the first boy to make me come, I can't even remember now. But you were the first one to go into a room with me and lock the door and keep the lights on. I fell right off the bed and we both laughed." He kisses Chris, just one light buss across the mouth. "You were the first one who mattered."

Chris doesn't speak. He runs his thumb over the mark on Victor's neck. Then he wraps his arms around Victor and holds him, chin on his shoulder, hands on his back.

Victor hugs him back and they stay that way a while, naked and embracing on Chris's bathroom tile. Then Victor lets his hand drift down to Chris's ass. "Did you really jack off to a poster of me?"

Chris laughs. "Don't you have one of me up now, for all your lonely nights?"

"Show me the poster." Victor pulls back. "I know you still have it."

Chris looks like he's going to protest but then he shakes his head. "I'm too tired to lie."

They go into the bedroom and Victor sits on the bed while Chris rummages in his closet until he finds a plastic tube. He slides the poster out and hands it over.

"Is your ancient jizz smeared all over my face?" Victor unrolls the poster carefully. "You should have laminated it." And they look at it together.

Victor is posing on the ice in a tight blue-green outfit covered in sequins, his hair a sweep of silver down his back. Not one of his better costumes, one commentator said he looked like a fish. But his face is hopeful and sweet and thankfully free of any suspicious stains.

"What's that?" Chris leans over. "Did you smudge it?"

"I washed my hands," Victor says. "Where?" He follows Chris's finger. "That's just a shadow."

"There was never a shadow there before," Chris says. "Look closer."

Victor looks closer. And there, on the side of his neck, just faintly visible, he sees the mark. The mark he gave Vitya in Chris's kitchen tonight.

"Fuck," Chris says. "I should have written my number on his hand."

Victor laughs. "I should have warned him about you."

"Victor..." Chris rolls the poster and slides it carefully back into the tube.

"Open another bottle," Victor says. "I need a drink."

Chris puts the tube back into his closet. He stoops and kisses Victor. "Several drinks."

Victor falls back onto the bed and watches Chris leave the room. Then he calls after him: "What did you say you had in the freezer?"

Okay this...was fascinating. Such a delicate, thoughtful, almost sly take on time-travel self-cest. It felt self-aware but it also dodged the more predictable meta conversations one might kind of expect from this dynamic. I also thought the pacing decisions were genius. And the tone was so. Wistful, and yearning - the whole thing felt like a story told through sex rather than a porny one-shot, if that makes sense. I really enjoyed reading this. Thank you so much for sharing it!

OP here. I see you also posted this to AO3 and I'm going to flail about this more on there when I have the time (tomorrow, hopefully), but this is very very very good and I am so happy to have read it! Thank you!

A bit late to ask, but I want to check before doing anything:

I have an idea for this but it would involve victor turning up in hasetsu after the baby's born, would that be okay for op or are you set on yuuri still being pregnant when he arrives?

I'd love to read an AU where Otabek is a prince and an omega, therefore responsible for leading his kingdom and bearing an heir. When he's told that his marriage is imminent, Otabek is forced to admit that he's already secretly mated to his friend Yuri, an alpha of dubious background who is not popular with royal officials.

He expects the worst but Yuri and the officials end up striking a deal. Yuri and Otabek have to live stream Otabek's next heat to prove to everyone that the relationship is consummated. If Otabek bears an heir, the relationship stands and Yuri and Otabek can marry. If Otabek doesn't become pregnant, the royal officials can declare Yuri unsuitable and find Otabek another partner.

Yuri and Otabek get really into the "for the kingdom" part of the deal and stream more than is necessary, ultimately getting public favour on their side.

Pre-canon, set before Yuuri leaves to train in Detroit.

Yuuri always assumed that Takeshi hung out with him because he had a crush on Yuuko. Yuuri was wrong.
Takeshi had a crush on Yuuri since they were both children. Since Yuuri didn't have any pigtails to pull, Takeshi had to resort to teasing to attract Yuuri's attention. Unfortunately for Takeshi, Yuuri only had eyes for Yuuko. So Takeshi gets a "brilliant" idea: he asks Yuuri to help him practice in kissing. And once things get heated, boys are willing to try and explore a bit (Yuuri is surprised to realise he is attracted to the boys too, Takeshi just wants to get his hands on Yuuri).
No anal or hardcore stuff, just some kissing, petting, maybe blowjobs.

seconded!

DA

OMG, Yuuri getting DP'd is such a big mood! I really hope you go forward with this someday!

"Yura," Victor said in his most disapproving voice, "your hair is a mess."

Yuri scowled back at him. It wasn't his fault; Lilia was sick with the flu, so he'd been forced to try doing his hair himself this competition. He could braid, but the fancy stuff she'd decided on had turned out to be nigh-impossible to do by himself – he couldn't see what he was doing, and he had no idea how he was supposed to move his fingers. He'd given up halfway through when he'd hit a point that looked okay. "It's fine."

"It's not. Come here, I'll fix it for you." Victor sat on the nearest bench and patted the wood beside him. Yuri rolled his eyes, but went to join him. They had time; Victor was here for Yuuri's sake, not his own, and there were still several groups to go before either of them would get to skate. "Where's your comb and brush?"

"In my bag."

Victor went to get them for him before he started pulling apart Yuri's own attempt at hairstyling. He pulled the elastics off and onto his wrist, and carefully undid the braids. Yuri tried not to stiffen when Victor began to comb his hair out, using just the right amount of pressure: not so much that it hurt, but not so little that he didn't catch every layer of hair. His mother had never managed the right balance when he was a kid.

It was nice, actually. But Yuri knew Victor had a thing about hair.

Yuri hadn't picked up on it for a long while. It was only natural for Victor to fuss over his dog's fur, after all, always running his fingers through her curls and smoothing them down, making sure she looked neat. Yuri was the same with Potya; he liked taking a few minutes at the end of the day to comb her long fur, making sure there were no knots in it, smiling at her when she pushed her head into the bristles.

And it was one thing for Victor to help Georgi that one time with that wild hairstyle he'd wanted to try for his program. And for Victor to comb Yuuri's hair back for him before Onsen on Ice and, presumably, other competitions. Victor was all image and aesthetics. It made sense.

Yuri had only started to really clue in when he'd caught Victor smoothing down Yakov's frazzled hair, or what was left of it, when he'd fallen asleep at an airport during a long layover. Victor had been smiling, a soft little thing, and his touch had been so gentle that Yakov hadn't woken up at all.

And now it was Yuri's hair that he was brushing smooth. Because he liked it when things looked pretty. Definitely.

He braided quickly, without tugging too hard on the strands, and Yuri went to look at it in the wall mirror as soon as he was finished. It looked just as though it was Lilia who had done it. No frizzies or anything. Yuri couldn't help but stare a little.

"Why are you so surprised?" Victor asked, smiling from behind his shoulder. "Lilia taught me when I still had long hair." He reached out to grasp the end of one of the longer, loose strands between his fingertips. "Yours is really nice to work with. And it suits you."

He pulled away. "It's not like I had a choice about it." He preferred it when people complimented him on things he did. He'd done fuck-all to have blond hair or big green eyes; he'd poured his soul into those raised-arm jumps (third position, Yura, you are not a helicopter) and the layback spin Victor had insisted he try for this program (hold that first position a beat longer, you're not getting the full rotations in).

"Not just the color," Victor said. "It's nice that you're growing it out. You should let me play with it sometime."

"Yeah, right," Yuri said, but he still dragged Victor away from Yuuri a couple of days later to do his hair for his free skate. This style was less complicated, but Yuri didn't feel like breaking his wrists trying to get it put together. And it was supposed to have a few little jewels glinting from the braids, red to match with his costume and contrast against his hair, which would be easier for someone else to work in.

Victor braided patiently, taking the time to smooth the strands down as he crossed them over, and undoing one portion when he didn't quite get all the hairs off of Yuri's neck. Yuri watched him in the mirror. It was always something to be the center of Victor's attention. Irritating, sometimes. Yuri couldn't help himself from wanting it anyway.

Finally, everything was in place. Victor paused when he was done, looking at Yuri's hair. Admiring his handiwork, Yuri guessed.

"Victor," called Yuuri, but whatever it was that he had to say died as he approached them. Now he was staring at Yuri, too. He sat up a little straighter. "Wow," Yuuri said after a long moment. "That looks really good, Yuri."

"Doesn't it?" Yuri couldn't see, but he could hear Victor beaming. "See, having it up like this makes his neck look so long, especially with this—"

He drew a hand down the back of Yuri's neck. Down to where his costume was low-cut in the back. Yuri wanted to flinch away from the touch – why did that feel like that, the light brush of his fingers – but there was nowhere to flinch to. He was sitting on the edge of the bench already.

Victor's hand lingered. Yuri didn't hear what he was saying over the sudden thump of his heartbeat in his ears. He swallowed against the sound; Victor didn't move his hand.

Until he did. So he could get up, and go deal with whatever it was that Yuuri needed. They both left with smiles for him; he managed a tiny wave back. He could still feel the heat of Victor's touch on his neck.

For his exhibition, Yuri had intended to just leave his hair down. It would be tangled afterward – he was now well-aware of how much time Victor must have spent with a comb as a teenager – but it would look awesome, so it was worth it.

Victor showed up anyway. Yuri didn't notice him at first – he was still sulking over his bronze (losing gold to Yuuri was a pain but at least understandable; losing silver to JJ was just infuriating) and didn't look up until Victor tugged on the end of his hair. "I'm not doing anything to it," he said.

"I thought it might be nice to put a few little braids in," Victor said. "You know. Like the vikings in movies. Don't you think that would look good with your music?"

Yuri thought about it, imagining a couple of tiny braids lining the loose strands. "Yeah, okay," he said. Not all of Victor's ideas were dumb.

Victor had brought the brush and the elastics this time. He chattered away as he braided. "You've got too much eyeliner on. Are you taking makeup lessons from Georgi?"

He had, a couple of times. "It looks great, thanks." He liked the heavy effect of all the black, the sharp edges he'd managed to achieve after a long struggle with the brush.

Victor clicked his tongue. Yuri scoffed at him. They fell into silence as Victor finished the last braid. "There," he said. "How does it look?"

Yuri turned his head back and forth in the mirror. It mostly looked fine, and the effect was as cool as he'd hoped it would be. Maybe it would help keep the strands out of his eyes a little bit, too. "That one's kind of weird."

"Mm. This one? Yeah, it's too far back. Hold on." He took the elastic off, careful not to take any of Yuri's hair with it, and undid the braid. Yuri watched their reflection as he started the new one, how his hands turned and turned in the familiar over-over-over pattern. "That's better," he said when he was done.

Victor didn't move away as Yuri inspected himself in the mirror. In fact, when they stood to return to waiting with everyone else, he draped an arm over the top of his shoulder. It didn't matter that there were two layers of fabric, jacket and costume, between his skin and Yuri's; Yuri could feel his body heat anyway. Yuri tried to shrug his hand off, but Victor just moved it further down. He insisted on smoothing Yuri's hair down one last time, too, right before he skated out.

Yuri didn't take the braids out until the next morning. No matter how much he combed his hair, the crimped waves stayed.

Ever since that official art of Yuuri being bogged down in shopping bags while Viktor walks ahead, I can't help but imagine that Yuuri is carrying them all because Viktor won't stop buying him stuff, so:

Yuuri is Viktors personal assistant, who unwittingly has his boss wrapped around his little finger. Viktor is has been head over heels for his assistant since the office Christmas party, or something.

Viktor tests a whole lot of boundaries by attempting to take care of Yuuri's every desire. Sweet, oblivious Yuuri doesn't know how he's gonna survive having the worlds hottest and clingiest boss.

Basically, Viktor keeps trying to spoil Yuuri, and accidentally ends up his sugar daddy. Yuuri has no idea.

Bonus if: Chubby! Yuuri, aged...up....Viktor

I n c r e d i b l e I need this like air

Thirded! I would love to see this filled.

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Page 54 of 59

Prompt Post 1

Re: FILL part 2: Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki, objectification, rape fantasy of a sort

Re: FILL part 2: Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki, objectification, rape fantasy of a sort

Re: FILL part 2: Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki, objectification, rape fantasy of a sort

Re: Yuuri X Victor: Yuuri saves Victors son from a child rapist and they end up falling in love

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, motorbike sex

Re: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, frottage - Untitled art fill

Re: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, frottage - Untitled art fill

Re: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, frottage - Untitled art fill

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 1/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 2/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 3/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 4/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 5/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 6/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 6/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome - FILL 6/6

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki. Unplanned Pregnancy, Past Dubcon

Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek Altin - omegaverse, exhibitionism, royalty au

Yuuri Katsuki/Takeshi Nishigori, pre-canon, petting

Re: Yuuri Katsuki/Takeshi Nishigori, pre-canon, petting

Re: FILL part 2: Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki, objectification, rape fantasy of a sort

Re: Yuri Plisetsky/Victor Nikiforov - hair braiding FILL

Victor Nikiforov/ Katsuki Yuuri, Unwitting Sugar Daddy AU, Office AU

Re: Victor Nikiforov/ Katsuki Yuuri, Unwitting Sugar Daddy AU, Office AU

Re: Yuuri Katsuki/Takeshi Nishigori, pre-canon, petting