"Yuuri…" Viktor drawled.
The Japanese man in question rubbed at his temples for the thousandth time that evening.
"Viktor, I love you. So incredibly much. But please let me fixate on this a bit longer."
Even though Yuuri was landing it more and more often in competition, his quad Salchow was still one of his weaker jumps. Reviewing his practice footage and pinpointing the exact moment he was going askew was absolutely imperative before Worlds, and he needed complete focus. He had watched the footage repeatedly, sped up, slowed down, calculated every damned shift of his body, and he still couldn't figure it out.
His fiance and coach seemed to have different priorities.
"But I want to play," Viktor whined, splaying himself over the top of the couch where Yuuri lounged.
"And I want to win a gold medal for you to kiss."
"You've been watching the same clip for an hour, Yuuri," Viktor chided in his best authoritative voice. "As your coach, I am demanding you take a break and spend time with your fiance."
Viktor gave Yuuri a wink–that wink–where his head dipped to the side and he let out a small hum. It was the same wink from that first night in Hasetsu where Viktor had stood naked in the onsen and proclaimed himself as Yuuri's new coach.
The wink he knew drove Yuuri out of his mind with lust.
"A demand from my coach, huh?" He questioned.
Viktor's crystal blue eyes sparkled. "Yes. It's time to make a habit of listening to him more often."
Yuuri's eyes narrowed at the challenge, keeping locked on Viktor's gaze. He removed his glasses with calculated precision, a move he knew Viktor couldn't resist, and rested them gently on the coffee table.
"Take off your shirt, Viktor."
Viktor's cheeks flushed pink at Yuuri's commanding tone, but he quickly stood upright and yanked his tee shirt over his head, revealing the gloriously lean, ivory skin beneath. He even went so far as to hand it to Yuuri.
Perfect.
"Go to the bedroom and stand at the window. I'll meet you there."
Viktor beamed, quick to follow orders. Yuuri wasn't far behind, moving with ease he only truly felt on the ice or alone with his fiance. As instructed, Viktor stood by the bedroom window, the setting sun glowing against his silver hair.
Yuuri stepped into the closet to retrieve what he needed: a black necktie, a blue bandana to match Viktor's eyes, and a pink silk scarf to complement his lips.
Viktor waited patiently by the window like an Adonis, sculpted to perfection by expert hands. The prominent bulge in his sweatpants, however, the ancient sculptors would never have been able to do justice.
"Give me your hands," Yuuri's voice was low as he approached, and Viktor willingly presented them.
Yuuri took Viktor's tee shirt and wrapped it around his wrists, knotting it tight enough to prevent escape. He then looped the necktie over the bonds and lifted Viktor's arms above his head to tie the other end to the curtain rod. A small challenge, considering Viktor had a good three inches of height on him, but he managed.
Viktor let out a stunted breath. "Y-yuuri?"
The younger man held Viktor's gaze, schooling his eyes into the smolder the Russian prodigy couldn't resist.
"You wanted to play, Vitya," Viktor's breath hitched at the nickname, and Yuuri knew he had him. "Let's play."
Yuuri tilted his face up and brushed the faintest kiss across Viktor's lips. It was sensual, electric, and Viktor's soft moan nearly had Yuuri bowing at his feet, giving the man everything he was asking for and the world right along with it. He lost himself for a minute, taking Viktor's face in his hands and tilting it for better access. He plunged his tongue into Viktor's eager mouth, tasting and breathing all that was Viktor Nikiforov; the Viktor only Yuuri possessed the privilege of knowing.
Before he allowed himself to give in completely, Yuuri pulled away from Viktor's mouth with a wet pop. Viktor tried to lean in and chase him, but his hands bound to the curtain rod granted him limited mobility. He let out a soft whine of protest, but Yuuri's nimble fingers tickled softly down his neck, sending his whole body into a shudder. Yuuri's fingers continued their descent, grazing past his collar bones and firm pectorals, teasing those pebbled pink nipples. Viktor inhaled sharply, falling deeper under Yuuri's trance as soft tremors of pleasure zinged through his body and hardened his cock even more.
Yuuri took this moment of Viktor's distracted bliss and stepped behind him. Before Viktor could question him, Yuuri found the bandana he'd draped over his shoulder and placed it delicately over Viktor's eyes, tying it in the back and careful not to pull any of his coveted silver locks.
Viktor let out another shaky breath. "Yuuri.."
It took everything not to lose control at the sound of his name on Viktor's lips, especially in moments like this, when his fiance was so overcome with lust and desire that his Russian accent grew thicker.
"Vitya.." he responded in a low, husky voice.
One arm snaked possessively around Viktor's trim stomach, holding him in place while his other hand palmed the erection bulging his sweatpants. Viktor let out a cry as Yuuri gave him a gentle squeeze.
"Has this cock been waiting for me all afternoon, Vitya?"
Viktor groaned as Yuuri's sinful hand slipped into his sweatpants.
"Yes, darling," he breathed. "All day."
Yuuri gave an approving hum into Viktor's ear as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and gave a long, slow pull. His thumb swirled over the head, smearing the small bead of moisture that had gathered there. Viktor's back arched against him and Yuuri gave another pump down, and up again.
"Your mouth," Viktor gasped. "I need my cock in your mouth."
Yuuri chuckled as he slid Viktor's sweatpants down past his hips.
"You want my pretty lips wrapped around your fat cock, Vitya?"
Viktor whimpered, tugging helplessly against his bonds.
"Yes, Yuuri!"
"Hmm.." Yuuri appraised him. "Only if you promise one thing for me."
"Anything, darling," Viktor panted. "Ya podaryu tebe mir."
Yuuri released his hold on him and snatched the silk scarf, wedging it between Viktor's teeth and tying it behind his head. Viktor grunted in surprise and his natural reaction was to fight him, but Yuuri quickly felt Viktor willingly give over his control.
Yuuri circled around to stand in front of Viktor, then took a firm grip on his jaw.
"You will be quiet while your fiance is working."
Viktor moaned through his gag, and Yuuri nearly came in his pants when he made out his own name trying to escape the Russian's stuffed mouth.
Tugging Viktor's pants down his legs, Yuuri wasted no time teasing him. Instead, he took the head entirely into his mouth, letting the tip of his tongue massage the underside. Viktor's hips bucked in response, but instead of sinking deeper into his wet mouth, Yuuri released him with a pop and stood.
Viktor whimpered, his hips following where Yuuri had left.
"Stay here and be quiet while I work, Vitya," he spoke with authority as he strode to the door. "If you can follow orders, I might reconsider your punishment later."
With that, he shut Viktor inside, ignoring his struggling and keeping Makkachin out of the room.
—
Twenty minutes later, Yuuri had pinpointed the precise moment of entry where he was off balance in the quad Sal, and was ready to shut off his laptop for the rest of the night. He hadn't heard much of a struggle out of Viktor since those first couple of minutes, so he was sure to find a rather upset Russian captive on the other side of the bedroom door.
And that excited him.
Viktor's chest rose as Yuuri entered, steeling himself for whatever was soon to befall him. Even bound, blindfolded, gagged, and naked, Viktor still managed to look dignified. It was incredibly unfair for one person to be so beautiful…the sharp cut of his jaw, the tight skin over rippling muscles, and that cock, half hard and ready for Yuuri.
Yuuri drank him in, admiring every inch of his exposed body as he approached. Without a word, Yuuri sank back to his knees before his former idol and future husband, just like he had fantasized as a teen but would never dare tell a soul.
One delicate lick up Viktor's shaft had him fully hardened in an instant. He whimpered behind his gag at the sudden rush of sensation.
"You waited so patiently," Yuuri cooed. "Good Vitya."
A lusty groan from Viktor's throat had Yuuri's own cock springing to life in his sweatpants. He circled the head of Viktor's with his tongue, paying extra attention to the seam beneath, then took him as far into his mouth as he could. He savored the bead of precum on his tongue and moaned with heady desire, jolting Viktor's body and sending him to the back of Yuuri's throat.
He gagged at the invasion, making Viktor groan with need. Yuuri pulled his mouth away but wrapped his fist around Viktor's shaft, pumping him just the way he liked it.
"Do you like when I punish you for being bad, Vitya?"
A mumble that sounded like "yes" was his response. Yuuri licked up his shaft from base to tip as a reward.
"You like when I tie you up and suck your fat cock?"
Viktor squirmed like he was ready to burst. He writhed against his bonds and attempted to pump himself in Yuuri's hand. Oh, he loved seeing him this desperate, begging for Yuuri's touch like a man starved.
"It's so fucking hot," Yuuri growled before taking Viktor's entire length down his throat. One long suck and a massage to his balls had Viktor spasming, his hot cum squirting down Yuuri's throat and his muffled screams permeating the room.
Swallowing every piece of Viktor he was given, he stood. Viktor's head was bowed as he panted through his gag, bringing the two men almost to eye level.
"Have you learned your lesson?" Yuuri asked, nuzzling his nose against Viktor's.
Viktor exhaled sharply and gave a small nod against Yuuri's face.
"Do you want to be untied?"
Viktor stilled for a moment, contemplating, then shook his head.
Yuuri smiled, delighted that he still wanted to play. He laid a finger on the scarf gag, those sultry pink lips parted around it.
"Do you want to keep this?"
This time Viktor didn't think too long before he nodded. Unable to resist the temptation, Yuuri took
Viktor's lower lip between his teeth, nipping ever so slightly and making Viktor gasp.
"And the blindfold? On?"
Viktor again nodded in affirmation, and Yuuri kissed both his eyes over the bandana.
"Alright, Vitya," he whispered. "Since you've been a good boy, you can have your way."
Yuuri released the tie holding him to the curtain rod and slowly lowered his bound wrists. He used the end of the tie as a leash to guide Viktor to their bed, where he delicately bent him over. Viktor braced himself on his elbows while Yuuri tore out of his own shirt and sweats. He stroked his own cock and ran his hand up the length of Viktor's back.
"Beautiful Vitya," he purred, and Viktor arched his back and sighed at the touch.
Yuuri reached for the lube from the bedside table, thankful it hadn't been put away the night before. He applied a generous amount to his fingers and brought them to Viktor's hole, massaging and circling the tight pucker.
"Are you gonna be a good boy again and take my cock, darling?" He cooed as he carefully inserted one finger.
Viktor moaned in answer at the welcomed intrusion. Yuuri couldn't help giving his ass a sharp slap, just to hear the sound his fiance would make. He wasn't disappointed by Viktor's sharp, muffled cry.
"You want my cock buried in this fuckable ass?"
Viktor writhed as Yuuri inserted a second finger, pumping and stretching him. A slew of words attempted to spill past the gag, which Yuuri had to guess was a muddled combination of Russian and English. He reached his free hand up to Viktor's face to tug the silk from his mouth.
"I want to hear the words, Vitya," he coaxed.
"Yes, Yuuri," Viktor turned his blindfolded gaze towards Yuuri's voice. "I need your cock. Please."
Yuuri grinned. "So polite." He removed his pumping fingers and replaced them with the head of his freshly lubed cock. "So good, Vitya."
He sunk an inch into Viktor's ass, giving him a moment to adjust and groaning as the tightness squeezed him. Yuuri's hands grasped Viktor's hips as he eased in another inch, pulled back, and set a slow pace, going deeper with each pump until he sheathed himself fully in his fiance's warmth.
"Does that feel good, Vitya?" Yuuri's voice shook, eager to give him everything he had begged so beautifully for.
"Yes, yes Yurri," Viktor groaned. "Fuck me."
They both grunted as Yuuri pulled out and slammed back in to the hilt. His fingers dug into Viktor's hips as he gave him thrust after powerful thrust, hitting his fiance's prostate and making him moan with pleasure. It was tantalizing and hypnotic; watching the most trophied male figure skater in the world–his Viktor–panting his name and begging for more. Yuuri was lost in him; utterly bewitched.
Viktor's bound arms gave out and he slid forward, his torso pressing flat into the bed. Yuuri followed him down, enveloping him in his arms and increasing his speed.
"Yuuri–" Viktor whined. "I'm going to come again!"
Yuuri growled his approval, feeling Viktor begin to clench around his cock.
"You love how I fuck you?"
"Oh–yes!"
Yuuri's tongue grazed the juncture between Viktor's neck and shoulder.
"Come for me again, Vitya," he whispered, and bit down on the delicate skin.
Viktor cried out, his bound hands fisting the bed sheets as he rode out his second orgasm.
"I love how you come for me, Vitya," Yuuri moaned, his balls tightening. It wasn't long before his own release exploded from his loins. He squeezed a limp Viktor even tighter to him as he came, pumping his ecstasy deep into the man he adored, sharing his bliss, his essence, his very life.
When breathing came easier, Yuuri laid a kiss on Viktor's sweat-slicked spine, summoning a soft shudder. Yuuri grinned and untied the blindfold, but covered Viktor's eyes gently with his hand to adjust him to the light. He kissed his temple, his cheek, making his way to those plump, kissable lips. Viktor hummed in contentment as Yuuri's hand slid away and they could finally gaze at each other.
"Good boy," Yuuri winked.
Viktor giggled, attacking Yuuri with another kiss.
"Did you figure out your problem?" He asked, easily unraveling his bound wrists.
Yuuri blinked in confusion.
"Your quad Sal," Viktor clarified.
"Oh," Yuuri blushed, a bit taken aback by Viktor's quick shift back into coach mode. "Yeah, my back leg was angled weird."
"See?" Viktor wagged his finger. "You just needed to step away for a minute and see it with fresh eyes."
Yuuri stared dumbfounded at the Russian.
"You're telling me this now?"
"You wouldn't have listened to me if I had said it outright," Viktor replied with certainty.
"I think you just wanted to be punished, Vitya," he grinned, reaching back to pinch Viktor's ass.
"I didn't think I would be strung up for a whole hour!" Viktor whined.
"You were in here maybe twenty minutes," Yuuri rebutted.
They fell into their usual light bickering as the sun disappeared behind the St. Petersburg skyline. It wasn't until stomachs grumbled and Makkachin pawed at the bedroom door that they disentangled. The rest of the night was spent in Yuuri's favorite domestic setting: post-coital, lazy, and clad in only their sweatpants while they went about their typical routine of dinner, TV, and doggy snuggles.