Date: 2017-05-09 11:54 am (UTC)
fivetimechamp: by me (Default)



Down, down, down. Yuri keeps pulling him down. Closer, down. Tighter, down. Down to his mouth and chest and the small gasps for breath coming from one or both of them. Fingers in his hair, and maybe this is a dream, after all. Maybe he'll wake up to find himself alone in this bed, with Yuri still asleep nearby, or back in Hasetsu ––

(or, worse, all the way back in St. Petersburg, victim again of his own imagination)

–– weeks before the Cup of China even begins.

It's that unreal. That impossible, to have Yuri's arms around him and Yuri's body beneath him and Yuri's lips meeting his again and again, like he needs Victor to breathe. The soft skin of Yuri's throat under his mouth, when he shifts, finds that spot just under Yuri's jaw and pulls lightly at it, every thought and want and need rushing through his head and lighting his bloodstream tagged with a reminder of not too hard. Don't push. Don't drag. Don't toss Yuri over the edge, when all of this is so new for him, and he might not even know what he wants.

No matter how clear it is to Victor. No matter how many times he's dreamed, wanted, longed for exactly this. How he'd planned what he would do if he ever got the chance.

It's all in the air, now, burning. None of it matters anymore, except the boy beneath him and his own bursting heart.
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勝生 勇利, Katsuki Yūri

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