ext_382407 (
beltenebra.livejournal.com) wrote in
writetomyheart2017-01-10 03:52 pm
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
[TEAM SEVEN] GOOD AS GOLD
This fic is set in
mousapelli's amazing Yuri!! On Ice universe where Yuri and Otabek are pairs skating together. This is somewhere in the 6 weeks between their Christmas wedding and the Olympics in February.
Also, unlike Mousi's lovely, plotty relationship development, this is shameless smut. We were chuckling over how Otabek would react to seeing Yuri in his home country's colors for the first time. Enjoy!
Practice is business as usual. The timing for their synchronized elements is coming along very well. The new lift they are working on, slightly less well. Otabek is pretty sure the one spot on his hip that he keeps bruising and re-bruising will now be like that permanently.
He’s taking a short breather and watching Yuri go through the motions he needs to lift Otabek up into position when their coach calls for a break. It’s far earlier in the practice than usual so it’s a little confusing.
When she accepts a box from one of the training assistants and shakes out a fall of blue, white, and gold he understands.
“The uniforms are finally here, come and get them boys!”
He and Yuri exchange a fierce look across the ice, excitement and a little trepidation before taking off. They both start from approximately the same distance from their coach so it should be a pretty fair race but Yuri does this little leap forward at the last second that puts him a meter ahead. Cheater.
Otabek elbows him when they pull up to a stop next to each other but they are both grinning.
Their coach checks the tags and hands them each an official team jacket. Otabek holds his up and admires the design. He had skated for Kazakhstan in the 2018 Olympics of course. He didn’t think anything would ever make him quite as proud but standing here now with Yuri by his side was something extra, more than he ever expected.
He’s turning the jacket to admire the gold eagle splashed across the vivid blue of the back when he catches sight of Yuri swinging his jacket on to check the fit. It settles over his graceful shoulders, hitting him just below the hips.
Yuri gathers his hair up in a messy knot and twists a bit to look back over his shoulder at Otabek. “How does it look?”
He’s been practicing on ice nearly his entire life but he’s never felt completely frozen before. He knows his cheeks are hot, it’s possible his mouth is hanging open.
“Yo, Altin. Are you ok?” Yuri has spun to face him, the wisps of his golden bangs falling down around his eyes perfectly match the trim on the collar and cuffs of the jacket and the wings gracefully curving over his shoulders. Yuri raises an eyebrow at him and he knows he should say something but he’s having kind of a hard time processing this.
Otabek thought that the overwhelming feeling of love and belonging had been strong at the wedding, seeing Yuri surrounded by his family, wearing traditional Kazakh clothes. But now it was really hitting home that Yuri was here with him. In his hometown, by his side, competing in the Olympics for his country.
Their coach is looking at them with her head slightly cocked to the side. “Has he ever done this before?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
She exchanges a shrug with the assistant. “You should both take a minute, I’ll be right back.”
Yuri spins gracefully and skates right up into his space, crushing Otabek’s team jacket between them. He’s still looking down so it’s easy to see the the shine of Yuri’s ring when he twines their hands together.
“What’s going on with you?” It would be easy to read the sharp tone in Yuri’s voice as annoyance or frustration but years of familiarity mean that Otabek can easily hear the concern. He smiles and though he know it must not look like any of his normal smiles, whatever Yuri sees in his eyes instantly makes him relax.
“Quit being weird. We have next to no time to get this free program in order for the Olympics which you gave me next to no warning about. If we don’t want to suck, we can’t waste any time.”
Instead of answering Yuri’s words he chooses to answer the questions in his beautiful turquoise eyes. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m just… really happy.”
Yuri rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss his cheek, pulling away so quickly Otabek might almost have been imagining it.
“Let’s put these away for now since you’re clearly not going to get any work done while we’re wearing them.”
Their coach shows up just as they have both laid their, perfectly fit thank goodness, jackets over the bench next to their bags. “Yes yes, the jackets are very nice. We can all see how well they match the Ice Prince’s coloring. Now let’s get back to work or you will be reduced to skating pretty figure eights in those team jackets instead of a real free skate and embarrass us so badly we’ll all have to kill ourselves.”
This startles a laugh out of both of them and Otabek’s feelings seem more manageable as he takes Yuri’s outstretched hand to run the choreography leading up to the new lift again.
His heart still does a funny skip as they pack their new team jerseys away at the end of practice but by the time they get home and have dinner he feels more or less back to normal. He’s waiting for Yuri to do whatever he’s doing so they can start up a movie and checking his Instagram feed. His social media skills are still sub-par according to Yuri but he’s been trying. He’s trying to decide how he feels about posting a picture of the Olympic team jerseys. Yuri will probably beat him to it. It’s business as usual.
Until Yuri comes sauntering out of the bedroom once again wearing his jacket. Or maybe it’s Otabek’s jacket because it looks a little loose in the shoulders and it’s definitely a few centimeters shorter than it should be.
A very noticeable few centimeters given the fact that Yuri’s legs are completely bare. And the zipper is pulled down just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of the pale muscles of Yuri’s chest. And he has his hair pulled up again, twisted up and stuck through with one of those stick things that means it will fall down in a silken tumble as soon as Otabek pulls is out. And fuck Yuri is naked under his jacket.
...and Yuri laughing at him.
He barely has time to register all of this before Yuri is across the room and straddling his lap with speed that makes his head spin. Or is that all of the blood rapidly rushing to his lower body?
Otabek captures Yuri’s heated smirk in a kiss that gets wet and messy very quickly. But that’s just as much Yuri’s fault as his, moaning against Otabek’s mouth as he runs his hands up Yuri’s tantalizingly bare legs to cup the curve of his ass.
Yuri retaliates by grinding down against his cock. They are clearly not going to make it off the couch. It’s becoming increasingly clear that this is exactly what Yuri has planned. When he spreads Yuri open his questing fingers find his opening already slick with lube. His vision practically whites out at the thought of Yuri putting his jacket on and fingering himself open.
“Come on, Beka. Get something inside me before I die,” Yuri hisses before biting down in that spot just behind his ear.
He is helpless not to obey, letting Yuri thrust himself back on his hand, two fingers sinking in easily.
Yuri draws the zipper of the jacket down so it hangs open and Otabek can see everything, his graceful neck, the ripple of his ab muscles as he rocks down against him, the delicate flush that goes all the way down to his erect cock. He is absolutely positive that he will never get over looking at Yuri.
When he finally tears his eyes away to look up at Yuri, his partner is clearly caught between annoyed and aroused. “Otabek. Less thinking, more fucking.” He tugs insistently at the fabric under his legs and lifts himself up so they can get shove Otabek’s sweat pants down to his knees.
He has no idea where the lube is but Yuri is clearly in charge here. Otabek barely has time to gasp as Yuri reaches down to slick his cock, Yuri’s hands are clutching his shoulders tight like his own on Yuri’s hips as he sinks down, sheathing Otabek inside him.
Otabek hisses at the sudden pressure, Yuri throws his head back with a throaty moan and Otabek can’t help but lean forward to taste his neck. Yuri gives him just a moment before he starts rocking his hips, keeping Otabek deep inside.
Yuri is so beautiful, all rose flush, gold, and those shining blue eyes. Otabek holds his gaze as he lifts his hips to meet Yuri’s and he’s rewarded with a choked gasp.
“Fuck, yes. There, Beka.”
They are both beyond teasing, Otabek drives up into Yuri as hard as he can, aiming for that spot that will push him over the edge. He pries a hand off of Yuri’s hip to stroke him off but Yuri smacks it away.
“Don’t need it. I’m close.”
And just like that so it Otabek. The sound of their harsh breaths panting in time to the smack of their hips together is the only sound until Yuri’s whole body tightens against him, around him and comes with a loud cry.
Yuri doesn’t even slow his hips, writhing against Otabek as he thrusts up, seeking his own end. It’s only moments later that the heat overwhelms him, the tightening in his gut explodes into orgasm and he’s moaning into Yuri’s neck.
As fast as the climb was, they come down gradually together breathing slowing in time. Yuri feels so good draped over him, their bodies still tangled together, he feels warm all over.
He knows they still have far to go to get their routines even close to Olympic standards. It would be an outright miracle for them to win gold but Otabek doesn’t care. With Yuri warm and sleepy in his arms and hours and days and years of skating together ahead of them he feels like he has already won.
“We may need to get your jacket dry cleaned.”
Otabek hides his grin in Yuri’s silken hair, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Worth it.”
You can also read this on AO3 here!
It's your turn,
chuyeol!
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Also, unlike Mousi's lovely, plotty relationship development, this is shameless smut. We were chuckling over how Otabek would react to seeing Yuri in his home country's colors for the first time. Enjoy!
Practice is business as usual. The timing for their synchronized elements is coming along very well. The new lift they are working on, slightly less well. Otabek is pretty sure the one spot on his hip that he keeps bruising and re-bruising will now be like that permanently.
He’s taking a short breather and watching Yuri go through the motions he needs to lift Otabek up into position when their coach calls for a break. It’s far earlier in the practice than usual so it’s a little confusing.
When she accepts a box from one of the training assistants and shakes out a fall of blue, white, and gold he understands.
“The uniforms are finally here, come and get them boys!”
He and Yuri exchange a fierce look across the ice, excitement and a little trepidation before taking off. They both start from approximately the same distance from their coach so it should be a pretty fair race but Yuri does this little leap forward at the last second that puts him a meter ahead. Cheater.
Otabek elbows him when they pull up to a stop next to each other but they are both grinning.
Their coach checks the tags and hands them each an official team jacket. Otabek holds his up and admires the design. He had skated for Kazakhstan in the 2018 Olympics of course. He didn’t think anything would ever make him quite as proud but standing here now with Yuri by his side was something extra, more than he ever expected.
He’s turning the jacket to admire the gold eagle splashed across the vivid blue of the back when he catches sight of Yuri swinging his jacket on to check the fit. It settles over his graceful shoulders, hitting him just below the hips.
Yuri gathers his hair up in a messy knot and twists a bit to look back over his shoulder at Otabek. “How does it look?”
He’s been practicing on ice nearly his entire life but he’s never felt completely frozen before. He knows his cheeks are hot, it’s possible his mouth is hanging open.
“Yo, Altin. Are you ok?” Yuri has spun to face him, the wisps of his golden bangs falling down around his eyes perfectly match the trim on the collar and cuffs of the jacket and the wings gracefully curving over his shoulders. Yuri raises an eyebrow at him and he knows he should say something but he’s having kind of a hard time processing this.
Otabek thought that the overwhelming feeling of love and belonging had been strong at the wedding, seeing Yuri surrounded by his family, wearing traditional Kazakh clothes. But now it was really hitting home that Yuri was here with him. In his hometown, by his side, competing in the Olympics for his country.
Their coach is looking at them with her head slightly cocked to the side. “Has he ever done this before?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
She exchanges a shrug with the assistant. “You should both take a minute, I’ll be right back.”
Yuri spins gracefully and skates right up into his space, crushing Otabek’s team jacket between them. He’s still looking down so it’s easy to see the the shine of Yuri’s ring when he twines their hands together.
“What’s going on with you?” It would be easy to read the sharp tone in Yuri’s voice as annoyance or frustration but years of familiarity mean that Otabek can easily hear the concern. He smiles and though he know it must not look like any of his normal smiles, whatever Yuri sees in his eyes instantly makes him relax.
“Quit being weird. We have next to no time to get this free program in order for the Olympics which you gave me next to no warning about. If we don’t want to suck, we can’t waste any time.”
Instead of answering Yuri’s words he chooses to answer the questions in his beautiful turquoise eyes. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m just… really happy.”
Yuri rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss his cheek, pulling away so quickly Otabek might almost have been imagining it.
“Let’s put these away for now since you’re clearly not going to get any work done while we’re wearing them.”
Their coach shows up just as they have both laid their, perfectly fit thank goodness, jackets over the bench next to their bags. “Yes yes, the jackets are very nice. We can all see how well they match the Ice Prince’s coloring. Now let’s get back to work or you will be reduced to skating pretty figure eights in those team jackets instead of a real free skate and embarrass us so badly we’ll all have to kill ourselves.”
This startles a laugh out of both of them and Otabek’s feelings seem more manageable as he takes Yuri’s outstretched hand to run the choreography leading up to the new lift again.
His heart still does a funny skip as they pack their new team jerseys away at the end of practice but by the time they get home and have dinner he feels more or less back to normal. He’s waiting for Yuri to do whatever he’s doing so they can start up a movie and checking his Instagram feed. His social media skills are still sub-par according to Yuri but he’s been trying. He’s trying to decide how he feels about posting a picture of the Olympic team jerseys. Yuri will probably beat him to it. It’s business as usual.
Until Yuri comes sauntering out of the bedroom once again wearing his jacket. Or maybe it’s Otabek’s jacket because it looks a little loose in the shoulders and it’s definitely a few centimeters shorter than it should be.
A very noticeable few centimeters given the fact that Yuri’s legs are completely bare. And the zipper is pulled down just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of the pale muscles of Yuri’s chest. And he has his hair pulled up again, twisted up and stuck through with one of those stick things that means it will fall down in a silken tumble as soon as Otabek pulls is out. And fuck Yuri is naked under his jacket.
...and Yuri laughing at him.
He barely has time to register all of this before Yuri is across the room and straddling his lap with speed that makes his head spin. Or is that all of the blood rapidly rushing to his lower body?
Otabek captures Yuri’s heated smirk in a kiss that gets wet and messy very quickly. But that’s just as much Yuri’s fault as his, moaning against Otabek’s mouth as he runs his hands up Yuri’s tantalizingly bare legs to cup the curve of his ass.
Yuri retaliates by grinding down against his cock. They are clearly not going to make it off the couch. It’s becoming increasingly clear that this is exactly what Yuri has planned. When he spreads Yuri open his questing fingers find his opening already slick with lube. His vision practically whites out at the thought of Yuri putting his jacket on and fingering himself open.
“Come on, Beka. Get something inside me before I die,” Yuri hisses before biting down in that spot just behind his ear.
He is helpless not to obey, letting Yuri thrust himself back on his hand, two fingers sinking in easily.
Yuri draws the zipper of the jacket down so it hangs open and Otabek can see everything, his graceful neck, the ripple of his ab muscles as he rocks down against him, the delicate flush that goes all the way down to his erect cock. He is absolutely positive that he will never get over looking at Yuri.
When he finally tears his eyes away to look up at Yuri, his partner is clearly caught between annoyed and aroused. “Otabek. Less thinking, more fucking.” He tugs insistently at the fabric under his legs and lifts himself up so they can get shove Otabek’s sweat pants down to his knees.
He has no idea where the lube is but Yuri is clearly in charge here. Otabek barely has time to gasp as Yuri reaches down to slick his cock, Yuri’s hands are clutching his shoulders tight like his own on Yuri’s hips as he sinks down, sheathing Otabek inside him.
Otabek hisses at the sudden pressure, Yuri throws his head back with a throaty moan and Otabek can’t help but lean forward to taste his neck. Yuri gives him just a moment before he starts rocking his hips, keeping Otabek deep inside.
Yuri is so beautiful, all rose flush, gold, and those shining blue eyes. Otabek holds his gaze as he lifts his hips to meet Yuri’s and he’s rewarded with a choked gasp.
“Fuck, yes. There, Beka.”
They are both beyond teasing, Otabek drives up into Yuri as hard as he can, aiming for that spot that will push him over the edge. He pries a hand off of Yuri’s hip to stroke him off but Yuri smacks it away.
“Don’t need it. I’m close.”
And just like that so it Otabek. The sound of their harsh breaths panting in time to the smack of their hips together is the only sound until Yuri’s whole body tightens against him, around him and comes with a loud cry.
Yuri doesn’t even slow his hips, writhing against Otabek as he thrusts up, seeking his own end. It’s only moments later that the heat overwhelms him, the tightening in his gut explodes into orgasm and he’s moaning into Yuri’s neck.
As fast as the climb was, they come down gradually together breathing slowing in time. Yuri feels so good draped over him, their bodies still tangled together, he feels warm all over.
He knows they still have far to go to get their routines even close to Olympic standards. It would be an outright miracle for them to win gold but Otabek doesn’t care. With Yuri warm and sleepy in his arms and hours and days and years of skating together ahead of them he feels like he has already won.
“We may need to get your jacket dry cleaned.”
Otabek hides his grin in Yuri’s silken hair, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Worth it.”
You can also read this on AO3 here!
It's your turn,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)