愛欲 aiyoku

1. passion; sexual desire; lust

"Vitya, there's not enough time—" Yuuri let Viktor pull him down the hallway, his hand tight around Yuuri's wrist. They were still in their skates—the joint lesson had run a little late. Viktor was still trying to comfort a crying child when the alarm on his phone went off.

"Nonsense." Viktor smiled, happy that the rink was empty now, for the most part at least. They slowed down, and Yuuri could feel his ankles ache as if he had just practiced jumps for eight hours.

"By the time we get home, it'll be time for Junior league lessons." Yuuri panted. "We'll just have to wait." He swallowed, nervous. Waiting another month was not ideal- neither of them had enjoyed going through PMS and the hormonal changes that showed up now that Yuuri was off his testosterone.

"Who said we would go home?" Viktor pulled out of his keys, and Yuuri finally realized where they were.

"Are you serious?! Here?" He watched Viktor pull open the door to their supply closet, and kick aside a stack of orange cones.

"Why not? All we need is each other." Viktor felt for the light switch.

"I'm not turned on at all…" Yuuri said slowly, stepping in the closet and letting Viktor lock it behind them. "I'm pretty sure I've only used these to hide and cry—" He gasped as Viktor pressed his mouth against his, his cold hands pressing at the skin of his stomach.

"Let's try, moya Yura," Viktor growled into Yuuri's ear. Yuuri's eyes widened, and his cheeks burned warm with a blush.

"O-okay." He stuttered, pressing his own hand into Viktor's chest—his heart was beating a mile a minute, too. They had talked about it before. Viktor had always met him where he was, after all. It had taken them months to figure out what worked for them as a couple, just as it had been when they had first met. Now the whole dynamic had changed.

Viktor stopped, but didn't take his hands off of Yuuri's hips.

"If you're not sure, Yuuri…"

"I'm sure, Vitya." Yuuri said darkly. "But we are in a closet, and it smells like feet, and I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm sure it's possible, or it wouldn't happen in movies." Viktor pulled at the dollar of his jersey. "We might have to try a different position, but we already talked about that, yes?"

Yuuri sighed, his face burning. He rubbed at his cheeks, unable to keep eye contact with Viktor. "It's more than that…" He trailed off. It would be one thing if Viktor wanted him. Yuuri would gladly get on his knees, and Viktor would know just where to pull and push to get Yuuri's body on fire. He knew how to make Viktor melt, and he could do it easily. But this wasn't about having fun—it was about starting their family.

"Don't even think about the closet." He glanced at his watch, and it was enough. Yuuri pushed Viktor's hands off of him, and crossed his arms.

"We're not creating a baby in a closet at work, Viktor Nikiforov."

"-Katsuki," Viktor added on with a sheepish smile.

Yuuri felt his anger recede a bit, but still grabbed Viktor's collar regardless. He liked that.

"You… You'll make us dinner, and we'll have a bottle of wine. Then you'll let me ride you, and you'll be so turned on that you'll be out for a week."

"I'm already halfway there," Viktor purred.

"Well…" Yuuri slid his hands up Viktor's body. "I…. I can't." He didn't see the end of the sentence coming out like that, but the words fell out of his mouth before he noticed his lips and tongue making the shape of them.

"Yuuri… Is it really the closet, or is it something more?" Viktor reached up to cup his love's chin in his hand, forcing him to look up.

"Something more." Yuuri's voice was small. Embarrassed. Viktor only looked on expectantly. He waited.

"It's a lot of pressure…and… we've never done it before." Yuuri's throat felt suddenly dry. It felt stupid, to be so hung up on this, when he knew they had done way crazier things before.

"Yuuri, if you're worried about me being attracted to you, do not worry. We've dealt with this hundreds of times." He loved seeing Yuuri flush, and the blood definitely rushed to his cheeks. "Just because some people call it vanilla does not mean I am enthralled by you."

"I know that, Viktor…" The acknowledgement came out more like a whine. "Maybe it is me. I'm scared. It's not a part of me I like thinking about."

Viktor looked thoughtful, before he nodded. "We have another three days. And even so, we don't have to worry about a calendar. We can have it happen naturally."

Yuuri let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in. He melted into Viktor's chest. "I'm sorry for turning you on."

"I've dealt with worse, moya Zvezda ," Viktor hummed, hugging Yuuri close.

"What're you doing, Vitya?" Yuuri giggled drunkenly, his fingers tangling in his hair, but doing nothing to dislodge the black silk tie Viktor had tied around Yuuri's head as a blindfold. After the talk in the supply closet, they had decided to call in a favor and have Mila and Georgi cover the classes for the next day. Viktor had picked up a bottle of wine that he wouldn't dare show Yuuri the receipt for, as well as a few rose-scented candles to set the mood for dinner.

"Trust me, kotyenok." Viktor led him back toward the bed.

"I don't know what you're saying," Yuuri giggled, letting his calves hit the box spring. "I don't speak Spanish."

"Russian, my kitten." It was a struggle to get Yuuri's t-shirt over his head without disturbing the blindfold, but Yuuri was complacent to let Viktor play with him as he wanted. Viktor paused, watching Yuuri's chest rise and fall. Even with the recent softness, Viktor could admire the muscles of Yuuri's stomach. The candle light shone off Yuuri's skin making him glow-it lit up the scars that underlined his pecs.

Even though he knew Yuuri wouldn't feel it as keenly as a kiss to his neck, Viktor bowed his head to press his lips to the skin just above Yuuri's heart, running his hands over his chest and under to the small of his back.

"Mm, Vitya, I can't see anything." Yuuri's hands moved blindly in front of him, and came dangerously close to smacking him in the face. "Where are you?"

"Right here, beautiful Yuuri," He kissed a trail down Yuuri's chest to the waistband of his jeans—the designer ones he had convinced Yuuri to buy a few months ago. Pride swelled in his chest and distracted him for a moment. Yuuri's gasps brought him back into the moment. Yuuri's fingers danced up Viktor's shoulders and into his hair. Viktor sighed happily, closing his eyes as he undid the button of Yuuri's waistband and slid his hand down to press against the fabric of his husband's boxers.

"Oh." The word floated out of Yuuri's like a bubble.

Viktor had been thinking about it over and over the past twenty-four hours. Intimacy with Yuuri had always been a balancing act between anxiety and dysphoria. It had taken them a long time, with a few bad-endings to find what worked for them. So far, in their years together, they had never tried the so called 'vanilla'—what they now would try in the interest of getting pregnant. And so far they hadn't had much luck.

Viktor was torn between Yuuri's face and watching his stomach tighten at his touch as he moved his fingers against Yuuri. He gasped in surprise—and pleasure when Yuuri hooked his legs around him. Yuuri pulled himself up onto Viktor, straddling him like he had the stripper pole at the banquet.

Even in the post-wine haze, Viktor could feel his heart start to beat faster as the nerves crept in. Yuuri dragged his hands down his body, before his mouth came up to blindly kiss and nip at his skin. Viktor melted into Yuuri, forgetting himself until Yuuri's hands moved to his waistband.

Viktor hesitated, staring down at Yuuri, bathed in candle light and completely and utterly gorgeous, biting his bottom lip. He was nervous too. Viktor pressed into Yuuri, his head swimming with alcohol and nerves. It was Yuuri- it felt like Yuuri, although this was the first time they had ever skipped protection.

"Yuuri?" Viktor went absolutely still

"Huh?" His voice was small.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know." Yuuri's hands dropped from Viktor's body and knotted into his own inky mess of hair.

"Good?"

"I don't know."

"Bad?"

Yuuri made an unsure noise in the back of his throat.

"Do we stop?" Viktor hated himself for asking this, for not letting the buzz sweep him along. It was as if he had grown a Yuuri alert to warn him to stop him before he went to the point of no return.

"…No." Yuuri said slowly, dropping his hands onto the mattress. There was an awkward beat of silence, before Yuuri drew his legs up. "Let's switch." He breathed, reaching up to clumsily push the blindfold off.

They shifted, Yuuri taking the chance to kick off his jeans the rest of the way.

Viktor stared as Yuuri shifted, finding a comfortable position, before smiling, glowing with bed-headed glory. All the nerves washed away, replaced with warmth as they moved together.

The next morning, Viktor slept in until noon.