Viktor Nikiforov was getting deliciously, viciously, and magnificently railed from behind by the hot bodyguard who had been assigned to him for his own protection. His lips twitched as his mouth tried and failed to form a wry smile. Apparently that 'protection' didn't extend to his ass.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was being pulled back and held in place by the chain connecting each cuff. It had hurt at the beginning as the handcuffs had dug into his wrists. But as his body became flooded with increasing pleasure, his mind went completely blank and he didn't even notice the biting pain of the cuffs anymore. All he could focus on was the thick cock filling him completely with each thrust. His precum-soaked bikini briefs were stuffed in his mouth, saturating him with his own salty taste, and muffling his screams. Viktor rocked his hip backward to meet each brutally delightful assault to his backside. Each time those hips behind him snapped forward, jolts of electricity would get sent right through that magical spot deep inside him. His dripping cock bounced out in front of him and slapped back onto his abdomen with the force of each movement. His stomach felt like it was filling with molten lava, a heat that was slowly making its way through the rest of his body, spreading out to all his extremities and threatening to overflow. Hereallyhad to be thankful for the IOC's fuckup, for it had led him to this very moment…tohimgetting delectablyfucked up. As another muffled scream was ripped from his throat, he marveled at how different his life had been just a short while ago.
One month earlier…
Viktor Nikiforov stood on the podium, waiting to receive his Olympic silver medal. He was still in shock but tried his best to keep the smile plastered to his face and not let on just how confused, angry and pissed off he was. He had skated two gold-medal programs perfectly, yet here he was with the silver medal being placed around his neck. They were in PyeongChang and the Korean skater; Seung-Gil Lee had bagged the illustrious gold medal instead of him. It was true that the young man had skated quite well, clearly inspired by the home crowd, but to Viktor's critical eye…it hadn't seemed enough for a gold medal. As Viktor's eyes scanned the crowd, he saw that they were clearly divided. The South Koreans were of course absolutely thrilled, but the rest of the crowd seemed about as stunned and bewildered as he himself felt. They got through the winning nation's anthem and Viktor did the obligatory smiling and waving to the crowd. When he stepped off the ice, he was completely mobbed by the media. The questions tumbled out at a maddening pace. He barely had time to answer one when five more would be asked in rapid succession.
"How does the great Viktor Nikiforov feel about having his gold medal streak stopped dead in its tracks?"
"Well, I've had a very good career and eight consecutive gold medals is an unprecedented feat and will probably remain that way for quite some time."
"Viktor! Is this the end of the road for you? Will you retire after the season is over?"
"I will refrain from making any announcements about the future of my career at this time, thank you."
Then the questions took a dark turn and things started to get out of hand.
"Viktor, there's talk already out on the net of how suspicious Seung-Gil's win is. Do you think that you were purposely judged and scored unfairly?"
"The International Olympic Committee has very high standards for its judges and scoring protocol. I have no reason to think that this is the case."
"Mr. Nikiforov, how do you respond to rumors that you purposely skated less than your best this weekend?"
Viktor was absolutely shocked, the smile melted off his face and he gaped at the reporter.
"What the hell kind of question isthat? Ialwaysskate my best every time I step out onto the ice!"
Yakov stepped in just then and put a stop to all the questions. He stated that there was somewhere Viktor needed to be and they, unfortunately, had to leave at that very moment. Viktor had never been so grateful for Yakov's surly disposition and cantankerous-looking mug than he was at that very moment. The reporters cleared a path for them and they were able to make it out of the arena and into a cab. The silence was eventually broken by Yakov's gruff voice.
"You should have won gold."
Viktor sighed.
"I know."
The rest of the cab ride was made in silence. Yakov kept looking at his phone, his scowl furrowing deeper each time he checked the notifications and typed out replies. Viktor tried to pretend he didn't notice. He didn't want to pry, and kept himself busy by focusing on the turmoil of thoughts and feelings at war inside his body. When they got back to the hotel, Viktor was surprised to find Yakov following him to his room. When he tried to ask him what was going on, Yakov simply shook his head and shot him a look. Viktor knew that look. It was the 'not now' look. Something serious was going on and Viktor knew better than to question Yakov's judgment. Once they were back in the hotel room, Yakov checked the bathroom and the closet before pulling the curtains closed. He sat down on the bed and motioned for Viktor to do the same.
"Yakov? What's going on?"
"Vitya, the Bratva gambled away millions and millions of dollars on the results of various sports in the Olympics. Most of that money was spent betting on you taking gold."
Viktor's eyes widened and he brought his hand up to cover his mouth as the full implications of Yakov's statement hit him.
"You can't go back to Russia, it's not safe for you there."
Viktor lowered his hand and tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was shocked speechless.
"That Korean's gold medal is fishy as hell and there's already talk of an investigation. You'll have to go into hiding until the investigation is over. We can't risk a reporter finding you and then giving your location away to the mafia. They're raging mad, Vitya. They think that you threw the competition."
"But I would never…"
Yakov placed a gentle hand on Viktor's shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring squeeze.
"I know, Vitya. But they're angry and they feel cheated. They've lost millions of dollars. They're going to think that until things are cleared up."
Yakov was not a very tactile or comforting person, but he was trying his best, and for that Viktor was thankful.
"So, what do we do now?"
Yakov went to the mini bar and grabbed every single bottle there was, and brought them all to the bed.
"Let's begin."
Yakov, ever the planner and master of back-up plans, had quickly managed to get the ball rolling on a lot of things. Lilia had already been to Viktor's house to take his medals and trophies into a secret vault for safe keeping. She had also selected some clothes, toiletries and personal effects for him and packed a suitcase. His things would make their way to him within the next few days or so. An international security firm had been hired to keep his house under 24-hour surveillance, should anyone feel the need to vandalize it. They were consummate professionals from England and would not succumb to bribery. Makkachin had been picked up from the pet hotel and was safe with Lilia. Ms. Baranovskaya was on par with Russian royalty, so she was off-limits and would not be bothered.
Yakov had connections with the Yakuza and had called in a few favors. He had to keep all the crucial planning and information out of Russia, as they were easily bought and not very trustworthy. The Bratva had its claws in just about everything. Viktor was being sent to a small town in Japan to lay low until the whole fiasco blew over. Once in Japan, he would be provided with a trustworthy bodyguard. Yakov took out two passports with two different identities. He asked Viktor to choose one.
"Yakov, how the hell did you get two new fake passports made in such a short time?"
"Vitya, I've had these ready for years, now. You don't spend your whole life in Russia without thinking about contingency plans for the day shit hits the fan. I have these made for all my skaters."
Viktor looked down at the two passports. To his dismay, neither of the two identities portrayed a man with silver hair. One had black hair and the other had chocolate brown hair. Yakov noticed his displeasure.
"Vitya, I know this is hard, but you're going to have to put your safety above your vanity. I have both colors with me right now, as soon as you choose one, we'll get started with the change. They're temporary dyes, so if things end sooner than later, it won't be too hard to switch back."
Viktor's shoulders slumped in defeat as he pointed to the brown-haired one. And so, Viktor Nikiforov decided to become Anatoly Ivashkin.
He took the box of hair color from Yakov and got right down to the business of dying his hair. Yakov mentioned that he should also find a new way to style his brown mane. The side part with hair covering his left eye was too recognizable, even in a different color. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Yakov reached into his bag once more and removed a box of non-prescription dark brown contact lenses. He suggested that Viktor put them in after he washed his hair out and started getting used to his new face as soon as possible. They would be leaving in the middle of the night under disguises. Yakov pulled out a blonde wig with long bangs and some large sunglasses.
"Боже мой, Yakov! How many more things do you have in that damn bag? How did you get everything together so quickly?"
"I also have some different clothes. Can't have you leaving in the same clothes you came in with, now can we? You'd be recognized right away. I had most of this stuff ready by the time you were on the podium. My phone started going crazy immediately after the results were announced."
Viktor whimpered dejectedly as he eyed the low-quality androgynous garments.
"Vitya."
"I know, Yakov. I know. Safety before vanity."
Viktor stared at himself in the mirror and did not recognize the face staring back at him at all. His brown hair and eyes were so foreign to him. He experimentally slicked his hair back and pulled some pieces forward and gasped. He was now staring into the face of Anatoly Ivashkin.
At 3 am, Yakov gave him a firm hug, a pat on the back and a new smartphone. He took Viktor's old smartphone and said he would keep it safe until he could use it again. Viktor left the hotel wearing the blonde wig and big sunglasses, and accompanied by an American Yakov had brought in for this part of the operation. Viktor walked beside the American man, who had loosely wrapped an arm around his waist. They laughed, flirted and pretended to be a couple as they walked to a waiting car outside. People probably thought he was just another prostitute and paid them no mind. Just before arriving at the airport, Viktor removed the blonde wig and sunglasses and handed them to the American, who put them both on. Viktor fixed up his hair and took a deep breath, he just had to make it to Japan on his own. Once there, he would have someone with him again.
'Anatoly' cleared customs without a single hitch. He had apparently arrived in PyeongChang for business 2 days ago and was now headed to Japan for the same reason. Viktor was very impressed at how authentic-looking all the visas and stamps in his passport were. Korean customs certainly didn't have any problems with them. Soon, he was on the plane to Fukuoka, Japan. A few restless hours later he disembarked with his one piece of carry-on luggage. He cleared customs once more and then found himself in the arrivals lounge, without a single clue as to who he was supposed to meet or what they even looked like. After wandering around aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity, he spotted a sign.
Dreamland Tours
Mr. Anatoly Ivashkin
He walked over cautiously to the young Japanese man holding the sign. He looked to be a little shorter than himself with a slim build. He was wearing blue-framed glasses and his shaggy black hair fell flat against his forehead. He had on a gaudy orange colored company polo shirt and khaki pants. His bright smile lit up his face as soon as he spotted him. When he opened his mouth, he spoke in smooth and unaccented English.
"Mr. Ivashkin, I presume?"
Viktor extended his hand.
"Yes, I am Anatoly Ivashkin. And you are?"
"I'm Kaito Watanabe with Dreamland Tours. I'm here to drive you to your accommodations in Hasetsu."
"Ah, thank you Mr. Watanabe. Shall we get going then? I'm a bit tired."
"Certainly, Mr. Ivashkin. Please follow me."
Viktor was led to a car with Dreamland Tours written on the sides. They made small talk for the first few minutes, and then Viktor's exhaustion finally hit him all at once and he was soon fast asleep.
"Mr. Nikiforov. Viktor, wake up."
Viktor sat up with a jolt, brain foggy with confusion. For a split second, he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered that he was in a car on his way to his temporary home in Japan. Then a few things hit him. First, the driver next to him was not the same person who had picked him up at the airport. This man was also Japanese, but his hair was slicked back, he wasn't wearing any glasses and he was in a blue sweater and jeans. The second thing he noticed was that this man had used his real name. Panic instantly filled his very soul and his eyes darted around wildly for any means of escape.How had he been found out already?Viktor had just started considering jumping out of the moving car when a surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist and locked him in place.
"Calm down, you haven't been compromised. Kaito Watanabe is one of my personas. I changed while you were sleeping."
Viktor let out a shaky breath and settled himself back down on his seat. A second later, his body broke out in violent shaking. The compiled stress of the last twelve hours finally came crashing down on himhard. He had put on a brave face for Yakov, he had maintained that brave face through two sets of customs, but now he just couldn't keep it going anymore. He covered his face with his one free hand as he tried to regain his composure. The hand gripping his other wrist lessened its hold on him and he felt a thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the palm of his hand. A few minutes later Viktor was able to lower his hand and breathe more normally.
"Sorry about that. It's been a rough night."
The young Japanese man removed his hand and brought it back to the steering wheel.
"I understand. I have been fully briefed on the situation and am aware of your particular circumstances."
"So...if you're not Kaito Watanabe...whatshouldI call you?"
"You may call me Yuuri Katsuki. That's the name I was born with and that's what I use when I am not required to play any specific role."
"I see. Nice to meet you Mr. Katsuki."
Yuri picked up a cup and handed it to him.
"Coffee, double milk and double sugar, just how you like it."
Viktor was surprised that he knew about his coffee preferences.
"Yes Mr. Nikiforov, I've been briefed onmanythings about you. We'll be living together for a potentially indeterminate period of time. I wanted to know just what kind of person I'd be living with."
"Wait, we're going to be living together?"
The man named Yuuri raised an eyebrow quizzically at him.
"Were you not informed of our arrangement beforehand?"
Viktor groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair.
"No. I wasn't told much at all. Just get to Japan and the bodyguard will be there. I didn't even know what or who I was looking for when I arrived."
"Hmm, that explains why you looked so lost and confused when you arrived. I kept moving around trying to place myself in your line of sight so that you saw the sign, but you kept looking away."
"Ah, sorry about that. I was a bit of a wreck when I arrived."
"That's understandable."
"So, are you that bodyguard, then?"
"Yes. Does that surprise you?"
"In any other situation I would be absolutely surprised that someone of your stature could be considered a Yakuza bodyguard. But I'm actually not."
"Oh? What changed your mind?"
"You have one helluva strong grip."
Viktor lifted his left hand and pushed his sleeve back a bit. Small purple bruises had already started to form where Yuri's fingers had dug into his flesh.
The Japanese man in question suddenly blushed an adorable shade of red.
"くそ! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to grip you so tightly. It's just that, you looked ready to jump out of the car and Ireallydidn't want that to happen!"
As Viktor opened his mouth to speak, a filthy little thought popped into his head.I wonder what that hard grip would feel like on something...else that was hard.He shook his head and brought his palms to his cheeks in a gentle slap in an attempt to get himself grounded again. Wherethe hell did THAT come from? I should not be having dirty thoughts about someone I just met.Viktor took a deep breath and cleared his throat before he spoke.
"Well, ah...thanks for that, I appreciate it. These bruises are nothing, falling badly during a jump attempt is much more painful."
Yuri nodded and didn't say anything else after that, and Viktor was thankful for the silence. He just leaned his head back into his seat and tried to collect his thoughts.
Before he knew it, they were pulling up next to a rather charming and very traditional-looking little house. The city was bordered by the sea and their house was almost right on it. Viktor looked around and saw that the area was quite secluded and the nearest homes appeared to be at least a 10-minute walk away. They seemed to be in the outskirts of town, on the tip of some peninsula. He felt instantly reassured knowing that he at least he wouldn't have any nosy neighbors to deal with. Yuuri unlocked the doors and they stepped out. It was almost noon when they arrived and the cold winter sun shone down brightly on them, reflecting off the white snow currently blanketing everything. Viktor stared longingly at the sea, and sighed. Everything about this place reminded him of St. Petersburg. He could almost picture all the seagulls flying around during the warmer summer months.
"Are the accommodations not to your liking?"
Viktor was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Yuuri's voice.
"No, no…the house and area are both beautiful. It's perfect here."
Yuuri stared at him a bit longer before he motioned for them to go inside.
"This is called a Minka house. It's very old-school Japanese style. You don't see many people living in these kinds of houses anymore. The ones still left standing have mostly been converted into hotels or ryokan."
Viktor stopped just before the front door of the house. All things considered, he had to admit that he was quite happy with the arrangements Yakov had made. The roommate aspect was a bit of a shock. Viktor had been living alone, barring Makkachin of course, ever since he had turned eighteen and was of legal age to do so. Even when away on competitions he would always have his own room. He'd just have to suck it up and endure it. At least he'd have a cute Japanese man to keep him company. Things could have been much, much worse. He could have been holed up in some kind of hovel somewhere in deplorable conditions. Viktor took a deep breath and stepped through the open door of his new temporary home.
Yuuri went into tour guide mode as soon as they stepped into the house.
"This area is called the genkan. This is where we remove our outdoor shoes, the getabako is the rack we keep them on."
Viktor removed his boots and placed them on the shoe rack thingie. He watched as Yuuri did the same.
"Unlike some western countries, wearing outdoor shoes inside your house is taboo in Japan."
The actual house was a bit higher than the area they had come in to, and Viktor noticed some slippers.
"You may choose to wear these if you'd like. It's also quite comfortable to walk barefoot or in socked feet on the tatami floors. I'll leave the choice up to you."
Viktor chose to put on the pair of slippers, noting with a bit of surprise that they fit him perfectly. The other pair next to them was smaller and more suited for Japanese feet.Those must be for Yuuri.
"The home has been slightly modified to include modern comforts such as western toilets, showers and beds."
Viktor was suddenly very curious.
"Were there no toilets before? And what did people sleep on if there weren't any beds?"
Yuuri laughed, an attractive and melodic sound that was very pleasing to Viktor's ears.
"The original house had squat toilets. Basically, a hole in the ground…but with plumbing."
Yuuri laughed again when he saw the horrified look on Viktor's face at the mention of squat toilets.
"Before there were western style beds, people slept on futons laid out on the floor."
"Well, I am extremely grateful that the home owners decided to make the…necessary upgrades."
Yuuri replied with a distracted 'mhh' before walking further into the house. Viktor thought his answer was a bit strange but didn't dwell on it too much.
"This here is your room."
Viktor set his one piece of luggage in the corner and eyed the bed appreciatively. It was a twin bed, a bit smaller than what he was used to, but it looked long enough to accommodate his full length and felt soft with just the right amount of give when he pushed down on it with his hand. His closet was quite small, tiny actually. Not that he'd need anything bigger, he'd only brought the bare minimum with him and wasn't expecting much more. If Lilia packed all suitcases like she packed her own, he was going to get only the most basic and utilitarian items from her. The woman was brutally frugal when it came to luggage. The room also had a small desk and only one large window.
"Thank you, it's perfect."
Yuuri nodded and motioned for him to follow.
"This is the living room. The table with a blanket attached to it is called a kotatsu, and it's a godsend in the winter time. It's heated and you can put as much of your body under it as you want. I'll show you how it works later on tonight when the temperature starts to drop."
Viktor vaguely remembered hearing something about a kotatsu somewhere before. The concept intrigued him greatly. The heated table seemed to be surrounded by some kind of floor sofa, or seating without any legs to lift it off the ground. He could already imagine himself cozying up with a good book with his legs stretched out under the kotatsu.
"There are two bathrooms. This one here has the bathtub and the other one only has a shower. You see that little stool next to that faucet?"
Viktor nodded.
"In Japan, people wash their bodies thoroughly before going into any kind of water meant for soaking. This stems from the days when an entire family would be expected to make use of the same bath water. These days it's meant for common courtesy purposes. No one in an onsen wants to soak in sweat soup."
"Got it."
Yuuri stopped to quickly show him the other bathroom before heading to the kitchen. Viktor was relieved to find that the kitchen was quite modern with all the right appliances. Viktor spotted the electric kettle and suddenly felt a biological need for some tea.
Yuuri followed his line of sight and walked up to one of cupboards and opened it. The tea is in here. There's Earl Grey, Breakfast Tea and Apple Cinnamon. There's strawberry jam in here too.
Viktor's jaw nearly dropped to the ground.
"Holy shit, you really DID learn all my preferences. I'm not sure whether to be severely flattered or incredibly creeped out."
Yuuri laughed that laugh again and Viktor's stomach did some happy little somersaults at the sound. He was going to struggle if he was already like this after a just a few hours. Suddenly a thought struck him.
"Yuuri, where will you sleep? You didn't show me a second bedroom."
The young Japanese man shot Viktor a very bemused look, a quirky smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.
"I didn't think my room was that important."
"Yuuuuuuri, I wanna see your room!"
"Viktor, are you inviting yourself into my bedroom?"
"Yes! You got to seemybedroom, I don't see why I can't seeyours."
Yuuri closed the distance between them and stepped in close, looking into his eyes with the most intense and searing look he had experienced in the history of...ever.
"Oh? Are we playing 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine', now? Viktor, we've only just met. At least buy me a drink first."
Viktor had spoken without really thinking through the connotations of what he had said. The teasing smirk on Yuuri's lips made him blush deep red when he realized how it must have sounded."
He stood there sputtering awkwardly as he tried to come up with something to say. Yuuri laughed.Боже мой, that laugh is going to be the death of me.Without warning, Viktor's hand was suddenly encompassed by Yuuri's.
"Come on now, I was just teasing. I'll show you my room, Viktor. You can make me some tea later."
3 weeks ago...
That first week living with Yuuri had left Viktor in a state of constant arousal and frustration. On Monday, he caught sight of Yuuri coming out of the shower with just a small (oh soverysmall) towel wrapped around his waist. On Tuesday, Yuuri decided to lounge around the house in teeny little boxer shorts. Ridiculously short boxer shorts that had ridden up his thighs when he'd reached for something in the top cupboard of the kitchen. Viktor had been utterly mesmerized by the dual bottom curves of the finest ass he had seen in quite some time. Yuuri was being absolutely shameless. He would know, HE was usually the one being shameless. Well, Viktor Nikiforov wasnotabout to be out-shameless'd. At first he'd thought Yuuri was just acting very comfortable around him. And then he remembered that Japanese people were generally supposed to be super conservative. He finally came to the conclusion that Yuuri knewexactlywhat he was doing. More than once, Yuuri had caught Viktor staring lustily at him. Each time this happened, Yuuri's smirk grew wider and more salacious. The last time it happened he had actually winked at him.Oh, it's ON. This iswar. By Wednesday, Viktor had decided to launch an all-out counter attack. He also started wearing a strip of cloth around his waist after he took his showers and baths. He'd practically done a little victory dance that first day when he'd spotted Yuuri's heated gaze devouring his torso. He'd taken to wearing his usual hair style while inside the house, and so it was like second nature for him to flick the hair out of his eye with the toss of his head and smile that dazzling Viktor smile at him. The result had been glorious, he had practically heard Yuuri swallowing dryly from across the room.Good.
On Thursday morning, just after breakfast, Yuuri spotted a delivery truck making its way down their road.
"Viktor, under the kotatsu, now!"
Viktor just stood there, staring in confusion at the Japanese man.
"Just do it! Please, I'll explain later!"
Viktor nodded and dove under the kotatsu, pulling his limbs in and hugging his knees to his chest. He stayed deadly silent, ears straining to hear what was going on.
The doorbell rang and Yuuri answered the door. It appeared that pleasantries were being exchanged. He didn't understand what was being said but heard the sound of something heavy being brought into the house and placed on the living room floor. The door was closed and Viktor heard a vehicle driving away. He heard Yuuri walking around the house, like he was looking for something. He waited, and waited, forsomesign from Yuuri. Finally, after a few long minutes, he heard Yuri's voice telling him it was OK to come out.
"What the hell wasthatabout?"
"Well, your luggage was just delivered."
"Oh, isthat...all?"
Viktor would have laughed out loud at the silliness of Yuri's overreaction to the delivery had he not seen the dark look that took over his features.
"No, Viktor. That delivery was supposed to be made tomorrow. If any changes to the plan had been made, we would have known about it. Something's off."
Viktor was suddenly very nervous.
"Do you think the Bratva have a lead on our location?"
"No. I don't think this is connected to the Bratva. The suitcase may have been shipped from Russia, but it went through a few national channels once it arrived in Japan."
"So...you think that there's someone else after me?"
"No. This isn't about you, it's aboutme. I'm here to protect you, but as Yakuza...I also need to protectmyself."
Viktor gasped.
"You think that someone is after you, Yuuri?"
"It's just a hunch at the moment, but my instincts are usually spot on. Could you please take a seat? I need to make an important phone call, then I need to go over some contingency plans with you."
Viktor gulped as he lowered himself weakly onto the futon.I keep running away from trouble but trouble keeps chasing after me.While Yuuri was on the phone, Viktor checked the news. The IOC had indeed launched an investigation the day after the men's single free skate and medal ceremony. They were still in the process of gathering evidence, but so far it clearly pointed in the direction of the Korean judge and two others. A few incriminating emails and text messages had been found so far, and some witnesses were being interviewed. Viktor sighed. At least the process had already begun. He had no idea how long he'd have to be in hiding for, but he had Worlds to practice for. He simply couldn't afford to take a month off without practicing. He looked up just in time to see Yuuri returning to the living room.
"Yuuri. I was thinking. If you're Yakuza...why don't you have any tattoos?"
Yuuri sighed heavily as he sat down on the futon next to Viktor.
"It's complicated. IamYakuza...and I'm not."
Viktor tilted his head and stared at Yuuri in confusion.
"When I was was just five years old, my father inadvertently saved the Yakuza boss from a hit. I still don't know all the details, but needless to say, the Yakuza were quite pleased with him. They took care of our family and kept us safe and even helped pay for my education as well as my sister's. When I turned 15, there was a bit of a recession in Japan and tourism was also way down. My family's onsen was suffering terribly from the lack of business and was facing foreclosure. This house used to be our family home and my parents had to sell it to keep the business from going under. We all started living at the onsen. When the Yakuza boss found out, he bought the house back for us."
"Wow, that's heavy. I'm sorry your family had to go through such hard times. But if the Yakuza boss bought back the house, why aren't you guys back living in it? It's a stunning home."
"Viktor, the Yakuza didn't get where it is by doing favors for people."
"But your dad saved the boss! Doesn't that count for something?"
"It did. They paid us back with the protection and assistance. As far as they were concerned, their 'debt' to my dad had been repaid in full. When they bought the house back for us, we were now intheirdebt."
"So how did you get yourselves out of their debt?"
"We didn't. Well, not yet, anyway. That's why I'm here. Once I was old enough to be told what was really going on, I realized that we didn't have that many options left. We didn't have money or valuables to give them. But wedidhave something they could use...our servitude."
Viktor's eyes grew wide.
"Yuuri...are you...a slave?"
Yuuri stared blankly at Viktor for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.
"Oh kami, you're just too funny sometimes Viktor! No, I'm not a slave. I volunteered to serve them. My father was already too old, my mother simply doesn't have the heart for this line of work and I knew that if my sister went to work for them, she'd be a 'ruined woman' in no time. I volunteered because I will do whatever it takes to protect my family."
Viktor was speechless.
"I serve them, but because I don't come from one of the official 'families', I don't have to get the tattoos. I'm kind of like...a freelancer of sorts. They trained me in various disciplines and I excelled at them all. Soon, I was one of their best. My position is invaluable. As an ordinary citizen I draw very little attention to myself and don't have any official ties to the Yakuza that could be traced back to their organization. My service is so highly regarded that I became the first non-Yakuza to earn a Yakuza code name."
Viktor's curiosity got the best of him and he blurted out the question before he could stop himself.
"What's your code name, Yuuri?"
Yuuri's mouth quirked up in a smug little smirk .
"My code name is Chameleon; for my ability to blend into any role."
Viktor's face fell and he looked away quickly, hoping that Yuuri couldn't see his disappointment. It didn't work.
"Viktor? What's wrong?"
Viktor took a deep breath before turning to face Yuuri once more.
"So this Yuuri I know...he's just another 'role' of yours?"
Yuuri's eyes softened as he looked into Viktor's gorgeous sea-blue eyes.
"Nope. The only role I'm playing is that of your protector. This fine specimen currently before you is one hundred percent original Yuuri."
Viktor laughed at Yuuri's choice of words.
"I mean, you're not wrong..."
Yuuri cleared his throat before switching to a more serious topic.
"So about earlier, I have reason to believe that I am being targeted by an enemy organization. I recently took on a role that resulted in half of their organization falling into the hands of law enforcement. They're rightfully pretty pissed off at me. I spoke to my local Yakuza contacts and they agree with me that there was something fishy about that delivery earlier today."
Yuuri motioned for Viktor's phone.
"Please give me your phone. I will program their contact info for you. His name is Takeshi Nishigori and his wife's name is Yuuko. They are one of the 'original families that dates back hundreds of years. They are trustworthy and reliable. If you EVER feel that something is wrong or 'off' in the house, call one of themimmediately. I don't care if you think it sounds silly or whatever...trust your gut. Human intuition is often more spot on than people realize."
Viktor took his phone back when Yuuri held it out for him.
"Thanks, I'll remember that."
"Also, if you're in the house and feel that you need to hide, always use the kotatsu."
Viktor looked at Yuuri like maybe he was one donut short of a baker's dozen.
"Uhhh, ooo-kaaay. Why not my bedroom or the closet?"
"Um, because that's the first place they'd look for you?"
Of course. That made perfect sense. Viktor felt a bit foolish for not having thought of that before.
"The right bullets can easily go through walls and even mattresses. You'd be a sitting duck if you chose to hide there. Besides, this is no normal kotatsu."
Viktor stared at the kotatsu but really couldn't tell how it was different from a normal one. This was literally the first one he'd ever seen.
"Pick up the kotatsu blanket and tell me what you think of it," Yuuri said.
Viktor picked up one of the blanket panels and held it in his hand. His eyes widened when he realized something was off.
"It's so heavy! Why is it so much heavier than a normal blanket?"
Yuuri winked cheekily at him.
"It's made with Kevlar."
Viktor gasped.
"You mean, the same stuff as the bullet-proof vests police officers wear?"
"Yup, the very same stuff. Now go under the kotatsu and look up at the underside of the table."
Viktor did so but was back out less than ten seconds later, his face white as a sheet."
"Y-Yuri, there's agununder there!"
"Yes Viktor, but only as 'in case of emergency, break the glass' kind of scenario. I pray that neither of us will be required to use it. I have a vehement distaste for the damn things. It bothers me greatly that we have one in the house at all."
Viktor felt somewhat relieved that at least Yuuri didn't seem like one of those gun-obsessed gangster types who took pleasure in snuffing people out. An awkward kind of silence filled the room for the next few minutes.
"Well, your stuff is here at least. That's exciting."
Viktor smiled and nodded as he stood up and took his suitcase into his room.
He did not notice the pair of smoldering brown eyes that followed his every move.
On Friday morning, Viktor walked into the kitchen wearing only his black thong bikini briefs. Yuuri didn't seem to be awake yet, so he busied himself with making some tea. He was so engrossed in his activity that he didn't even hear Yuuri's footsteps.
"I knew this house came with a great view, but this is ridiculous."
Viktor nearly jumped out of his skin and almost spilled his tea at the sound of Yuuri's voice suddenly right behind him. He looked over his shoulder as he addressed Yuuri, who was wearing these criminally short little booty shorts, and purposely did not turn around. He wanted to maximize the amount of time Yuuri would be able to appreciate his immaculately toned glutes.
"Ah, Yuuuuuuri! Good morning! I didn't hear you come in."
"Mhm. Sorry, bad habit. I'm used to sneaking around silently."
"Well Yuuri, would you like to join me for breakfast?"
Viktor flexed the muscles of his ass and was incredibly pleased when Yuuri's eyes lowered to follow the movement. Viktor smiled triumphantly when he heard Yuuri's voice crack as he spoke.
"I…uh…want to grab some tea, too."
Viktor tilted his head adorably off to the side as he looked back at the Japanese man.
"Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you."
Viktor knew very well that he was standing directly in front of the cupboard containing all the tea. If Yuuri wanted a hot beverage that morning, he would have to get indecently close to Viktor to get it.
Yuuri's eyes seemed to darken and narrow slightly once he'd caught on to Viktor's meaning. The Russian man had issued him a challenge and he was not about to back down.I will teach this man not to mess with Yuuri Katsuki.His competitive drive would not allow him to back down. Yuuri walked slowly and purposely toward the cupboard, the Russian's eyes on him all the way. Yuuri pulled up right behind Viktor, stopping with just mere inches between their bodies.
"Alright then, I'll just help myself to some…tea."
Yuuri reached up for the cupboard handle with his right hand, the action bringing his bare chest flush against the equally bare expanse of Viktor's back. The shared contact sending blazing heat racing across their skin and causing Yuuri to bite back a moan. He took great comfort in knowing that Viktor also appeared to be equally affected, given the small shudders that shook the man's body. Yuuri steeled himself as he focused on the task at hand, repeating his plan like a mantra.Reach for the tea. Get the tea. Reach for the tea. Get the tea.Yuuri pushed up on the balls of his feet, the tea almost in his grasp and…
Oh!
His actions had caused his semi-erect flesh to push up exquisitely against Viktor's luscious backside, and the reaction from the man beneath him could not be ignored. Viktor's gasp, followed by his drawn-out moan were like music to Yuuri's ears. The sounds went directly to his cock, engorging it with blood and hardening it to the limit. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, reaching around to place his left hand on the counter for extra leverage. He was now obscenely pressed up against Viktor's back and had the Russian man trapped against the counter.Well, since I'm here, I might as well have some fun with it.Yuuri repeated the action, pushing himself higher up on the balls of his feet, knowing full well that it would result in his cock pushing up flush against Viktor's ass. Yuuri was not disappointed, for Viktor cried out, his back arching as he gripped the counter so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Yuuri closed his eyes and just let himselffeel. Everywhere their bodies touched seemed to tingle with electricity. When Yuuri spoke, his voice came out low and husky.
"That pesky tea seems to bejustout of reach. It's so odd, usually I don't have this much of ahardtime."
Meanwhile, Viktor was suffering. He had quickly come to the conclusion that he had perhaps made a mistake in provoking Yuuri. He was hyper-aware of the Japanese man's rock-hard cock pushing enticingly into his ass cheeks each time he reached for the tea. His own painfully hardened cock was getting pushed against the counter with each of Yuuri's failed attempts. Viktor bit down on his lower lip as he fought the urge to grind up against the hardness poking into his backside. He knew that Yuuri was tormenting him on purpose, and drawing things out longer than necessary. Finally, after what seemed to be a torturous eternity, Yuuri finally got his damn tea.
The Japanese man lowered himself unhurriedly until his feet were both back flat on the floor, ensuring that his chest slid hotly and deliberately down Viktor's back the entire way down.
"Ah, finally. Now, for the kettle. Should I wait for you to move or shall I just go around you again, Viktor?"
Viktor had never moved so fast.
"No! I mean…no worries. I…uh…need to go to the bathroom. So, I'll be right back…yeah. Be right back!"
Viktor bolted from the kitchen and made a beeline for the bathroom. He had barely closed the door behind him when he was already reaching into his bikini briefs and pulling out his dripping cock. He pumped himself furiously, the memory of Yuuri's heated skin on his and the way the man's cock had felt nudging against his rump serving to bring him over the edge in seconds. He bit down on his knuckles as he came, trying to keep the noises down to a minimum. Gods how he yearned to just cry out at the top of his voice. Viktor flushed the toilet and proceeded to clean himself up. After washing his hand, he went back to his room for a change of clothes. He decided to play it safe and go for some jogging pants this time around. When he walked back into the kitchen, Yuuri was sitting down at the table, nonchalantly drinking his tea and nibbling innocently at some toast. He looked up at Viktor and broke into a smile that sent his heart aflutter. Yuuri pointed to a plate across from him on the table.
"I made you some toast."
"Ahh, thank…you."
Viktor sat down at the table and took a sip of his tea.
"Why the sudden wardrobe change, Viktor? Is it too cold in the house for you? I could," Yuuri leaned forward a bit toward Viktor and winked. "Turn up the heat…if you'd like."
Viktor nearly choked on and spat out his mouthful of tea, but forced himself to stay cool and swallow it down as normally as he could.
"That's…that's very kind of you, but I'm fine, really. I uh…realized that…the chairs would be cold and it would be rude to have my ass cheeks on them at breakfast."
Viktor internally breathed a sigh of relief. His excuse had been more than plausible. He knew Yuuri wasn't buying it, but at least he'd avoided stating the obvious. Yuuri's face lit up with a knowing smirk.
"You're such a considerate house guest, Viktor."
Later that evening, Yuuri informed him that they would be going out and asked him to dress in activewear. Viktor tried to ask him where they were going, but Yuuri just smiled and shrugged.
"It's a surprise."
They got into the car and drove for about ten minutes before Yuuri was pulling into a parking lot. Still unsure as to what was going on, Viktor looked around and tried to figure out where they were. That's when he saw it, a big sign that read 'Ice Castle Hasetsu'.
"Yuuri, Yuuri! Is this a skating rink?"
The young Japanese man smiled.
"Yes, it is. And don't worry, it's outside the hours of operation and we have the whole place to ourselves."
"How did you managethat?"
"Oh, I guess you can say I'm tight with the owners."
In his excitement, Viktor had completely forgotten that he didn't have his skates with him. They were through the front door of the place when it suddenly hit him.
"Yuuri, I don't have my skates."
Yuuri turned to look at him and smiled a secretive little smile at him.
"Just follow me, if you please?"
Viktor sighed and just did as he was asked.
When they got to the front desk, he saw a couple standing there. The male was a tall and imposing burly beast of a man, and the woman standing next to him was a thin and petite brunette.What an interesting pair they make, those two.
"Viktor, this is Takeshi Nishigori and his wife Yuuko."
Viktor recognized those names right away, they were Yuuri's local Yakuza contacts. He was immediately nervous, unsure of how to act with these other gang members. The woman spoke first.
"It's so nice to meet you Mr. Nikiforov! My husband and I are huge skating fans and have followed your entire career very closely. We're so honored and privileged to have you here in our humble little ice rink."
Viktor visibly relaxed at the woman's friendly tone.I guess gang members can be 'just people' too.
He smiled his patented smile and reached over to shake her hand.
"Thank you for your kind welcome."
He then looked to her husband and offered his hand to him.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Nishigori."
The man clasped Viktor's hands in his oversized ones and gave Viktor a painfully firm handshake.
"The pleasure is all mine. Like my wife mentioned, we're huge fans. So even though the circumstances that brought you to Hasetsu are less than desirable, we're still thrilled to have you here."
"Yuuko Chan, you mentioned earlier that something arrived in the mail for Viktor," Yuuri said.
"Ah! Yes, that's right. Here it is."
She reached under the counter and pulled out a box addressed to Anatoly Ivashkin and handed it to Viktor.
"These had to be shipped separately so that they didn't draw unwanted attention to your regular luggage.
Confused, but suddenly very curious, Viktor tore into the box. When he opened it, he cried with joy at the sight of the golden blades.
"My skates! They're here, they're really here! I can practice!"
"Yep, that's right," replied Yuuri. "I know you have another competition coming up soon, so you can't afford to be taking any time off."
Viktor was so happy that he could have hugged all of them, simultaneously. He quickly found a bench to sit on and changed into his skates. As he stepped onto the ice, he felt home.
Saturday morning rolled around and Viktor woke up with the strangely comforting aches and pains that followed a good practice. He checked his phone for any updates on the IOC's investigation but didn't find any new developments. He did, however, have a text message from Yakov informing him of how things were back in Russia. Everyone was going crazy looking for him. Reporters couldn't understand how he had vanished into thin air and neither could the Bratva. They seemed to have calmed down a bit since the IOC's investigation had been officially announced, but still seemed to be preparing for the possibility that the investigation would rule that the men's singles results were indeed legitimate. Makkachin was doing well and was getting regular visits from Yura, Mila and Georgi. Viktor was happy that things were going well but was still a bit homesick and a bit annoyed that his life had to go through such an upheaval just because a bunch of nasty people potentially made a bad investment. He stood up and did a few stretches before walking out of his room. As he came upon the living room, he saw that Yuuri seemed to have fallen asleep sitting up on the futon. A book was left open, still clutched in his right hand. Viktor approached the sleeping man as quietly as possible, tip-toeing across the living room and gingerly going around the kotatsu. He knelt down on the futon and gently removed the book from Yuuri's grasp, looking briefly at the cover before closing it and setting it down on the table. The title was in Japanese, and so Viktor was unable to determine what the book was about. Once the book was set on the table, he turned his attention to the sleeping beauty before him. Yuuri's lips were slightly parted, his breaths coming out softly and steadily. Viktor's eyes traveled higher along the man's delicate face and paused to admire his cute little nose before marveling at the disheveled hair that had fallen down messily across his forehead. He didn't think it was possible, but he managed to find Yuuri even more beautiful. Unable to help himself, he reached out and tenderly brushed an errant lock of hair away from the Japanese man's eye. And that's when it all went to shit.
Yuuri's eyes snapped open and stared at him, wild and unfocused. Before he knew what was happening, Viktor found himself on his back, both wrists being painfully pinned to the futon. Yuuri was sitting on top of him, legs wrapped around Viktor's thighs, further immobilizing him. There was a stream of angry Japanese streaming from Yuuri's mouth and for the first time in his life, Viktor was scared.
"Yuuri! It's me, Viktor!"
Yuuri's grip tightened painfully on his wrists and Viktor cried out in agony.
The sound seemed to finally snap Yuuri out of it and he blinked a few times before staring dazedly down at Viktor.
"V-Viktor?"
"Yuuri, my wrists! You're hurting me!"
Yuuri looked down at his hands and eased up on the force holding Viktor's wrists but didn't release his hold on the Russian man. The man in question breathed a sigh of relief as the painful pressure eased up, but was confused as to why Yuuri hadn't released him yet.
"Viktor, that was a very, very dangerous thing to do. Surprising a sleeping gangster trained in the use of deadly force was abadidea. I could have ended up…hurting you pretty badly. "
"I'm sorry! You were sleeping and you just looked so cute that I had to go see and then I was just touching your hair and then you were all scary on top of me!"
Viktor's voice had increased in pitch during the rapid rambling and Yuuri could tell that the man was on the verge of tears. He used his thumbs to rub soothing circles on both of Viktor's palms, like he had done in the car on that first day.
"Shh, it's OK. Everything's fine now. I'm sorry I frightened you. Are you hurt?"
Viktor gulped mouthfuls of air as he tried to calm down and keep himself from bursting into tears.
"My wrists hurt a little. Holy shit Yuuri, you'resostrong! How are you so strong?"
Yuuri's mouth twitched slightly before it morphed into a wry smile.
"I train…a lot."
Viktor nodded and continued to take it deep breaths and release them in shaky little bursts.
Yuuri's heart ached when he noticed that tears had welled up in the corners of the Russian man's eyes and were threatening to spill over. He leaned in and kissed away the tear at the corner of the right eye before doing the same for the left eye.
"There. That's much better. Tears do not suit you, Viktor."
Viktor had closed his eyes and his only reply was a trembling sigh that made its way past his lips. When Viktor swallowed, Yuuri's eyes were drawn to the creamy column of the man's throat, following the movement of his Adam's apple as it was displaced by the action. He leaned in and placed a kiss on Viktor's neck, just below the jaw, and was rewarded with a soft gasp.
"Sorry..."
Yuuri placed another kiss further down Viktor's throat, eliciting a louder gasp.
"…I…"
Another kiss, slightly lower than the last, had Viktor's throat rumbling in a low moan.
"…scared…"
Yuuri switched to the other side of Viktor's neck, suckling hotly at the skin as soon as his lips touched down on it, drawing a sweet little whimper from the man beneath him.
"…you…"
Yuuri placed open-mouthed kisses along Viktor's neck, pausing to nibble lightly at a few spots, causing the Russian man to tilt his head backward, giving Yuuri further access to his skin.
"Forgive me?"
Yuuri licked a slow and arduous wet stripe from the base of Viktor's throat right up to his jaw, and the man's whole body shuddered. Viktor opened his eyes and stared up at Yuuri's lust-filled gaze. His reply came out in a throaty whisper.
"Yes."
Viktor ran his tongue along his upper lip to moisten it, and noticed how Yuuri's eyes followed the movement. That short subsequent moment of silence between them seemed to stretch out for an eternity. And then, Yuuri was closing the space between them and capturing Viktor's lips in a kiss. It started out as a gentle act at first, the Japanese man's lips soft and tender on Viktor's own. They took turns sucking and nibbling on each other's lips, as the passion built up between them. Viktor angled his head to deepen the kiss, and absentmindedly raised his hips off the futon, causing his growing arousal to push up against Yuuri's own. The Japanese man growled, grinding his hips back into the man beneath him. Viktor threw his head back and moaned loudly as he lost himself in the delicious sensation.
Yuuri's eyes drank in the sight beneath him; Viktor's flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and the breathless little sounds that were escaping his mouth.
"Kami, you are beautiful."
Viktor opened his eyes and smiled up at Yuuri. He was about to lavish his own praise upon the Japanese man, but instead found himself being cut off by a pair of lips suddenly devouring his mouth, and a tongue intent on making him forget his own name. Yuuri rocked his hips actively back and forth, grinding their hardened cocks against one another mercilessly and sinfully. For a few minutes, Viktor simply forgot how to think. All he could do was moan helplessly into Yuuri's mouth as the various sensations threatened to overwhelm him. Once his brain remembered how to work, he started struggling against Yuuri's hold on his wrists, desperately trying to free his hands so that he could touch him. But Yuuri didn't seem to want to release him. Frustrated, Viktor broke away from the kiss, deeply flushed and panting heavily.
"Yuuri...please...I want...to...touch you."
Yuuri's gaze shifted to his hands and he seemed to be genuinely surprised that he was still holding Viktor down. He released his grip on them immediately, holding his hands up in apology.
"Ah, sorry abo-..."
Yuuri was not given the chance to finish his sentence. Viktor had already managed to sit up, the action effectively pulling Yuuri flush into his lap. His hands were already fisted in the man's hair, pulling his mouth back down for a searing kiss. Yuuri's new position provided him with more leverage than before and he was totally unyielding is his use of this advantage. He threaded his left hand in Viktor's lush locks and placed his right hand at the base of the Russian man's spine. Each time Yuuri rolled his hips forward, he used the hand at Viktor's back to press the man firmly against him, and the room was soon filled with the sounds of their gasps and moans. Yuuri released his grip on Viktor's hair and dragged his palm across the milky white expanse of Viktor's chest before lowering it to palm Viktor's throbbing cock through his soaking wet bikini briefs.
"Viktor...I want...can I...?"
Viktor thrust into Yuuri's hand as he nodded enthusiastically.
"God, yes...please, Yuuri."
Yuuri lifted off Viktor's lap and backed up down past his knees so that he was now sitting on the man's shins. He reached for the hem of Viktor's bikini briefs, pausing to run the pads of his thumbs along the deep v-shape carved into the athlete's abdomen. He smiled when his act resulted in a tsunami of tremors that rippled its way outward from the point of contact and ended with a deep moan making its way past the Russian man's lips. Yuuri slowly pulled the elastic waistband away from Viktor's taut skin and shimmied the garment down off his hips, licking his lips as Viktor's dripping cock was freed and bounced enticingly with the movement. Unable to wait any longer, Yuuri held the hem of Viktor's underwear in one hand and reached out with the other. He ran his thumb along the slit, gathering the leaking precum and spreading it smoothly over the curve of the tip. Viktor cried out, the assault on his sensitive flesh making it throb and pulse further into Yuuri's touch. The Japanese man placed a palm on Viktor's chest and gently pushed on it, communicating his wish for the man to lie down. Viktor shifted his weight and rearranged himself so that he lying down comfortably on the futon. Yuuri was then able to slide Viktor's bikini briefs, unimpeded, down his legs and off. Yuuri moved back up Viktor's legs and leaned down to place some kisses along the column of his throat. He then reached down and took Viktor's throbbing cock firmly in his hand, giving it a healthy squeeze. Viktor's back arched right off the futon as a strangled cry was ripped from his throat. His hands came up and fisted themselves in Yuuri's hair, pulling the man into his chest as he did so. Yuuri suddenly found himself in the vicinity of an enticingly pebbled and dusky nipple. Not one to pass up such a golden opportunity, Yuuri's mouth was soon covering the nubile flesh, licking it and suckling at it.
"Fuck! Yuuri…ah!"
Viktor writhed beneath him, hands pulling almost painfully at Yuuri's hair as the Japanese man rained down sweet torture with his mouth and hand. Yuuri released Viktor's nipple with an obscene 'pop' sound before moving to lavish attention on the previously ignored one. Yuuri pumped Viktor's cock a bit faster, his own hardened flesh straining against his shorts and begging for attention. He tried to push the thought from his mind for a while, he really just wanted to focus on pleasuring the debauched man squirming under him. Yuuri kissed his way down Viktor's torso, pausing to dip his tongue into the man's navel, which earned him a litany of delightful noises and another thrust from Viktor's hips. Dipping lower still, Yuuri buried his nose in the thick thatch of silver curls, breathing in Viktor's unique musky scent. He longed to see Viktor with his natural silver color. He knew that the brunette locks were necessary to complete the illusion of Anatoly Ivashkin, but he wasn't very fond of them. When he'd originally been assigned the case, the picture he had first masturbated to had been one of Viktor with silver hair. So had the second and third. Yuuri replaced his nose with his hand, grabbing handfuls of the curls and pulling at them less than gently. Viktor moaned and more precum leaked from his slit, catching Yuuri's eye as it glistened in the morning light flooding the living room. Yuuri brought Viktor's cock to his mouth and licked the entirety of his soaking slit, causing Viktor to dig his heels into the futon and thrust his hips forcefully into the contact. Yuuri tisked reproachingly at the Russian man.
"Such impatience, Mr. Nikiforov."
Viktor released his grip on Yuuri's hair and propped himself up on his elbows as he lifted his head to shoot him a withering dirty look. Forehead beaded with sweat and face heavily flushed, he looked the perfect vision of a man lost to passion. A fire smoldered in the pit of Yuuri's stomach. He wanted to wreck that man. He wanted him screaming beneath him. He wanted to burn his passion into him until his name was all he'd ever be able to think of.
"Are you going to actually do anything down there or were you planning on just staring at it all day?"
Yuuri laughed, pausing for a brief second to smile ruthlessly at the Russian man before him. It was the only bit of warning Viktor ever got, for in the very next moment, Viktor found his cock fully encompassed in Yuuri's hot and filthy wet mouth. A scream that was a mixture of surprise and sheer pleasure tore itself from Viktor's throat. He threw his head back and screamed a second time, when Yuuri began bobbing his head along his length. Viktor's limbs suddenly felt like they'd turned to jelly, and he could no longer hold himself up. He fell weakly back down onto the futon, hands reaching out clumsily for something to hold on to, before making contact with Yuuri's shoulders. Yuuri wrapped his right hand around the base of Viktor's cock and ran his left hand across the man's abdomen and chest. He swirled his tongue along its underside with each bob of his head, slowing down each time he reached the tip to hollow out his cheeks to provide extra suction.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!"
Viktor's head tossed from side to side on the futon, his hands clawing desperately at Yuri's shoulders and digging his nails into his flesh. His cries and whimpers grew louder with each passing second and Yuuri became impossibly harder than he was before. His erection was painfully trapped in the confines of his tight little shorts, and it was time to finally do something about it. He reached into his shorts with his free hand and pulled out his own dripping cock. Yuuri moaned as he began pumping his hand along his own arousal, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of his bobbing head.Kami, this feels sooo fucking good. I've been dreaming of this moment ever since the moment I first laid eyes on him at the airport.Yuuri's moan, meanwhile, had averynoticeable impact on Viktor and his dick. He began thrusting his hips forward with reckless abandon, effectively fucking Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri closed his eyes and relaxed his throat to better accommodate the large cock pounding right into the back.
"Y-Yuuri! I'm…going…about…to…"
As the first spurt of hot semen hit the back of his throat, Yuuri swallowed Viktor to the hilt and just stayed there, greedily gulping down every drop until the man was fully spent. His own orgasm was hitting him mere seconds later, painting Viktor's thigh with his cum. Yuuri collapsed on the futon next to Viktor and the two men simply snuggled and panted in comfortable silence as they caught their breath. When Viktor seemed sufficiently recovered, he spoke.
"God, I've fantasized about that since the first day I saw you."
Yuuri smiled knowingly as he nuzzled Viktor's neck.
"Come on now, let's get you some breakfast. I've just had mine, but wouldn't mind some juice or tea."
Viktor blushed beautifully at Yuuri's mention of breakfast, seemingly embarrassed. Yuuri had to laugh a bit at how shy he seemed all of a sudden. If Yuuri hadn't just had the same man pounding his cock into the back of his throat a few minutes earlier, he would have been completely fooled.
terminology_
Боже мой (Russian: Bozhe moy) – Oh my God.
くそ (Japanese: kuso) - fuck