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If someone were to ask Yuri Plisetsky what his average day looked like, he would grumble something about food, his cat Potya, practice, and if he was feeling especially social, he might even mention the daily phone call he makes to his Dedushka. All of it typical and expected of the two-time Grand Prix Gold medalist and short program record holder of Russia.
However, there is one tiny aspect of his daily life that nobody, not even his most trusted family member, knows about. It’s a secret the young man has kept since he was little over 15 years old. One so scandalous and seedy, he’s sure it would ruin his career, and subsequently his life, if word were to reach the press. So of course, he, nor his lover, ever speak a word of it to anyone or anything that roams this earth.
“Yurio! There you are! Yakov wants to speak with you.”
Speak of the Devil, Yuri thought as he finished strapping up his skates.
“‘Kay,” he replied simply. He stood from his place on the bench, ignoring the blatant stare Victor directed towards his ass. Yuri had opted to wear leggings today, paired with a loose tiger printed crop top and he had his long golden hair pulled up into a high ponytail. His hair had grown some in the past two years, now reaching slightly above his midback. He grew an inch, but fortunately it had no impact on his skating. Of course, he has remained willowy as always which allows him to continue being the graceful prima ballerina he was sculpted to be.
After a second or two of silent eye fucking, Yuri turned around to grab his water bottle and a tube of Chapstick. The ice rink had no mercy when it came to his soft plump lips. So, he deigned to bring a tube with him every day to practice. As he riffled through his bag, he heard footsteps making their way towards him. Next thing he knows, there are hands on his waist and a mouth on his neck, slowly making its way up to his ear.
“Did you wear these leggings on purpose, Yura? Did you wear them for me?”
Yuri scoffed at the notion. “Don’t be so full of yourself. I wore these because I like them, not because I want you ogling my ass all day.”
Victor chuckled, clearly entertained by his kitten’s feistiness. “Ah, I suppose that could be true, but you also don’t hate the notion of being looked at by me either, do you,” he whispered into Yuri’s ear. He finished his point with a harsh bite to the younger man’s lobe, teeth catching slightly on the small stud Yuri had put there that very morning.
The nip surprised Yuri and he whimpered at the electric shock it sent down his spine. He pulled away from Victor’s grasp before they could go any further. They were at practice and anybody could walk in and see them. He told the older man as much and with a wistful sigh, he backed off.
“Fine, but I want to see you later as an apology.”
“Apology?! For what?!”
“For wearing such sinfully tight bottoms, of course! And in such a public place, where I can do nothing but stare.” Victor ended his explanation with a small pout. One he knew could melt the younger’s icy heart.
Yuri sighed as he looked up into those beautiful Russian eyes. So much like his own, yet also a great deal more playful and bright. He hadn’t the heart to say no and so with great regret he said, “Fine. But I want to play with my toys tonight and you’re making me dinner first.”
“Sounds fair to me, as long as you promise to wear those purple shorts I like.”
“I thought you had a thing for me in my leggings,” Yuri snarled as his frustration continued to grow.
The older man laughed, enjoying the view of an angry Yuri Plisetsky. “Of course I do,” he exclaimed. “But tonight, I want to be able to see your ass jiggle when I turn the bullet on high.” Yuri blushed a ferocious red as the lewd words escaped the elder’s mouth. He quickly glanced around to make sure nobody had overheard their conversation, before promptly smacking Victor’s arm.
Victor yelped, to his extreme embarrassment. The kid may have been short, but he sure knew how to hit, he thought bitterly.
“Yura, what did I say about using your hands?” Victor’s eyes had narrowed considerably as he took a few steps forward so that he could loom over the younger boy.
Said boy was refusing to look the other man in the eye, choosing instead to glare at the grime covered floor. Seriously, did nobody wash these fuckers? Yuri was pulled out of his slight revere by a firm grip on his chin and a harsh tug upwards.
“I asked you a question, Yuri.”
The boy gulped, a bit scared by the anger he saw swimming in those pale blue eyes. He tugged his chin a bit, a silent plea for the elder to let go so he could speak. He loosened his grip, but kept a hand there in case the young man tried to pull something stupid.
“You said not to do it because violence is bad, except for when I’m receiving a punishment.”
“Very good, Yura. Now, I’ll have to spank you later for hurting me, ok? But you know I only do it because I care, right?”
“Yes,” he answered angrily. His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“Yes, what?”
Yuri hated this part the most. Giving in to Victor’s stupid kink, even if a small part of him found it enticing as well. Mainly, he just hated giving in, but that was beside the point. He glared at Victor with the heat of a thousand suns before spitting out his line.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Victor sighed a bit as he heard the words fall from his little kitten’s mouth. He then released the other’s jaw, taking a step back before turning around and making his way to the rink. He stopped and turned back towards Yuri, beckoning him forward with a come-hither motion of his hand. The Blonde rubbed his jaw one more time before grabbing his bottle and tube and making his way over to Victor with long elegant strides. They walked side by side through the hallways, blank faces adorning them both.
“So, what are you going to tell the pig this time?” Yuri always makes a point to ask, just so he and Vitya have the same story down in case shit hits the fan.
“I was thinking you could act a bit dejected today. That way I can go “check on you” later at home. I’ll say you cried your eyes out and that I’ll have to stay the night so you don’t do anything stupid.” Victor doesn’t even look down when he answers, his face the perfect mask of indifference.
Yuri cringes slightly at the plan, but knows that ultimately, it will work. The other Yuri was extremely trusting of his husband and if he said he was going to comfort a friend, then in the raven’s mind, there would be nothing more than platonic hugs and perhaps some comforting snuggles. Yuri often wondered if he should feel guilty over sleeping with a married man, but over time, he’s learned to not fret. He doesn’t care to have the emotional connection Victor and the piggy share, at least not from Victor himself. Of course, eventually he wishes to find someone he can be with on both a spiritual and physical level, but for now he’s just trying to have some fun. And Victor is just that, fun.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he says. Then as an afterthought, “You’re still making me dinner, right?”
Victor just smiled at the younger boy for a few seconds, his hand pressed against the door leading into the rink. Before he pushes forward, he steals a chaste kiss from his lover’s lips.
“Of course I will, kitten. Daddy always keeps his promises.”
He walks through the double doors of the ice rink and embraces his husband from behind, leaving Yuri a blushing, anticipating mess.