"A contest," Yuri had suggested. "A contest of endurance."
Now, it feels like he made that suggestion hours ago.
Flynn's body is pressed into his, the blonde's chest lifted a little off Yuri's abdomen and his knees resting on the bed by the long-haired man's ears. He sucks at Yuri's cock in greedy gulps as Yuri lies supine under him. "Such a lovely view," Yuri admires, brushing his fingers along Flynn's balls, and even though he can't see his face, he knows full well the other man is blushing. He licks the tip of Flynn's cock before taking him in his mouth. At the same time, he's all too aware of how Flynn is moving with his tongue lapping at Yuri's cock. The bobbing of Flynn's head makes Yuri's blood rush to his, so he concentrates on his own movements, and he can tell by the way Flynn's thighs tremble and his breath quickens in the heat that it won't be too terribly long before he's done.
It is longer than Yuri expects however, and he honestly doesn't know how he manages to keep himself from giving in for so long. Flynn is good; there's no denying that. But when it comes to this sort of thing, Yuri has the upper hand.
It's with a sense of relief that Yuri feels Flynn spill into his mouth, even as it chokes him, and he comes too with a shudder a few moments later. The blonde rolls off of him and lies with his head by Yuri's feet, breathing hard.
"Fine. You won," Flynn admits, lifting his head to glare at Yuri, though in his tired—and satisfied—state, his eyes are nowhere near fierce. "This time, at least."
The way Flynn says it makes it sound like a threat. Yuri just closes his eyes at the absurdity of it all.