Yuri on Ice, Promises, Promises

Title: Promises, Promises [Yuuri/Victor]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: They really shouldn’t, but that never stops Yuuri and Victor.
AN: Written for a SASO Bonus Round fill and also for Shiritori. The prompt was Victor in the hotel room with the bottle of champagne.

Promises, Promises

“I promise I’ll keep it quiet.” Yuri is flat on his back on Victor’s bed, eyes heavy-lidded, cheeks bright pink from drinking. He’d done a drunken strip tease just before flopping down and so now is only wearing his briefs and his socks.

One sock is black and the other is dark blue, and Victor loves Yuuri so much he has to cover his mouth with his hand for a moment. He sets the bottle of champagne he’s holding in his other hand down on the desk because they have definitely had enough of that.

“Liar,” Victor says, voice low with affection and the fact that the tastefully wallpapered wall behind the bed will not muffle very much. It’s one of his favorite words in Japanese, and he loves using it on Yuuri at times like this. “Usotsuki.”

“I am not,” Yuuri gasps, affronted. He bends one knee, clearly attempting seduction. “Vitya, you can’t do it with pants on.”

They’ve had too much to drink and probably shouldn’t do much of anything, Victor’s not 100% he will be able to do anything, and also their room shares a wall with Yuri’s and if they make too much noise Yuri will probably Vine it and shame them on the internet. But Victor doesn’t need much seduction at the best of times and loves the elusive appearance of bossy sex Yuuri, so he strips down (socks included) and crawls into bed, flopping on his back next to Yuuri.

Yuuri frowns. “Why are you over there?”

“I’m tired!” Victor announces, melodramatic, flinging an arm over his head. “Take care of me, darling!”

“I’ll take care of you all right,” Yuuri grumbles, like it’s some kind of dueling challenging, and Victor starts snickering and can’t stop even when Yuuri presses their mouths together and licks his way in to suck on Victor’s tongue.

Yuuri ends up sprawled over Victor’s chest, one hand tight in Victor’s hair and the other wrapped around both of their dicks, as best he can, jerking them off together as he rolls his hips down against Victor’s. Victor tips his head back and closes his eyes, letting all of it wash over him, Yuuri’s mouth and hands and body all working him up to a fever pitch. Yuuri is slurring Victor’s name into the curve of his throat over and over with the same rhythm he’s jacking them off, but Victor’s voice is caught in his throat, unable to draw a deep enough breath to set Yuuri’s name free the same way.

It pours out in a long, low moan when Yuuri makes him come like that, then sits up to finish himself off before Victor’s even finished twitching, spilling slick and hot over Victor’s abs. For a minute they just grin at each other doofily, both of their chests heaving.

“Wo~w,” Yuuri finally says, mocking Victor’s usual intonation, eyes shining with laughter. Victor reached up to tickle Yuuri’s sides, making him twitch and thrash, and then crash down in a breathless heap back against Victor’s side. It would have probably hurt if they weren’t so drunk.

“Brat,” Victor said without any heat.

“You love it,” Yuuri said breezily, kissing his cheek with a wet smack before flopping onto his own back to stretch. “Hey, some genius put a bottle of champagne on the desk!”

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