Work Text:
Viktor hung the last of the photographs up to dry, the white of its edges stark in the dim red light of the room.
Yuuri stood from where he had been seated in the corner and turned to take in all the photographs. All around him, from every angle, were shots of him losing himself to pleasure. Each picture practically screamed Viktor’s attraction out from its surface: loving shots of Yuuri’s hand on his own cock, artful portraits of Yuuri’s face contorted in bliss as he jerked himself off for Viktor’s eyes, mechanical and real. Yuuri felt his cock stir as he took in the array, took in the evidence of what Viktor had seen when he had looked at him, that first time.
It had been a month since then, and Viktor and Yuuri had had all sorts of sex, every position and location imaginable. Yuuri knew what Viktor’s cock felt like in his hand, in his mouth, in his ass, and he knew what Viktor looked like when Yuuri rode him to completion without pausing to let him catch his breath. He knew how Viktor’s voice stuttered when Yuuri slid inside him, how his fingers tightened around Yuuri’s hips as he ate Yuuri out for the third time that day, Yuuri’s hole slick with Viktor’s saliva and come.
And now he knew what Viktor looked like at work, his gloved hands sliding paper in and out of chemical baths, the rippling of his shoulders under his tight shirt as he lifted each photograph to hang it from the strings that spanned the room. Viktor hadn’t explained what he was doing, just did it, brought blank paper to life with images of Yuuri’s pleasure while Yuuri sat and watched in silence.
That was the rule they had worked out: No talking in the darkroom. Viktor was a vocal lover, an endless stream of praise and pleading and encouragement spilling from his lips, and both of them were curious what it might be like to have that stream stemmed. So the darkroom was a silent place, at least today.
Viktor stripped off his gloves, the rubber snapping as he pulled his hands free, and dropped them in the trash can. He moved to the small sink and started to wash his hands, the sound of the water a sudden burst. Yuuri moved to stand behind him, catching his eye over his shoulder in the mirror, and as Viktor shut the water off, Yuuri pressed a slow, wet kiss to the back of his neck.
Viktor sighed and leaned his head forward, presenting Yuuri with a larger canvas upon which to lick and kiss and bite. Once he had exhausted it, Yuuri lifted his hands around Viktor’s chest and went to work on the first button of his shirt. Eyes not moving from Viktor’s in the mirror, Yuuri unbuttoned it, and the next, and the next, and slid his hand inside, fingers slipping over smooth muscle until they found Viktor’s nipple. Viktor hissed in a quick breath as Yuuri began to toy with it, rolling and rubbing and pinching as his mouth sucked another mark onto the back of Viktor’s neck.
The rest of Viktor’s buttons went quickly, and soon enough the front of Viktor’s shirt was gaping open, revealing his hairless chest and slightly rounded abs. Yuuri pressed a hand to his stomach and then carefully slid the shirt down off his shoulders and down his arms, discarding it to the floor. Finally breaking eye contact with Viktor, Yuuri set his teeth to the top of Viktor’s spine and started biting his way down, loving every vertebra with his mouth as his hands ran over Viktor’s stomach and sides.
Viktor’s breath was coming quick and labored by the time Yuuri’s mouth reached the hem of his jeans, and Yuuri leaned back enough to put a hand to each hip and turn him around. He pressed a quick kiss to the sensitive skin below Viktor’s belly button, feeling it jump under his lips, then looked up to catch Viktor’s gaze again as he started to work on his fly. Viktor’s pale skin was glowing in the red light, his eyes blown, and he nodded. Satisfied, Yuuri hooked his fingers around the top of Viktor’s jeans and boxers and pulled them down.
Viktor’s cock jutted out from his body, already hard and leaking. Yuuri licked the moisture from the tip, relishing the gasp from above his head. He bent his face forward to mouth at Viktor’s balls for a moment, then pulled back and slipped his lips around the head, suckling gently. One of Viktor’s hands left their death grip on the counter to rest on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.
Yuuri slid his mouth down farther, taking more of Viktor in, and hollowed his cheeks before he pulled back. Viktor whimpered, a barely-vocalized exhalation, and Yuuri did it again. The hand on his shoulder pushed up into his hair, tightening but not pulling, and Yuuri set to work properly.
Yuuri could have spent the past month doing nothing but sucking Viktor’s cock and it wouldn’t have been enough, he realized as his mouth and hand moved in tandem. Viktor groaned, shockingly loud in the still silence, and Yuuri drank it down as greedily as he was drinking down the liquid leaking from Viktor’s cockhead, licking it up as coyly as he could manage before diving back down for more. He tasted divine, salty and bitter and intoxicating, and Yuuri let his eyes flutter shut as he savored it to the sound of Viktor’s whimpers and moans and whines.
Yuuri had had enough sex with Viktor to know when he was nearing completion, and he was rocketing towards orgasm as Yuuri sucked him, which was why it came as a surprise when Viktor moved the hand in Yuuri’s hair to press the backs of his fingers to Yuuri’s forehead, their predetermined signal to stop. Yuuri pulled off his cock and stood, eyes flying to Viktor’s face. Viktor’s eyes were wide and he was trembling, but not entirely, Yuuri realized, from arousal. Yuuri opened his mouth to break the silence and tell Viktor it was alright to speak, but before he could get the words out, Viktor dove forward, burying his face in Yuuri’s neck, arms flinging around his back like a vice.
Yuuri wrapped his own arms around Viktor and squeezed as tightly as he dared. Viktor let out a soft exhale of relief and clung harder to Yuuri; Yuuri let go only enough to reach a hand up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stood like that for long, silent minutes, clinging to each other in the red light of the darkroom, Viktor’s cock softening against Yuuri’s hip, until Viktor’s trembling stopped and he loosened his grip on Yuuri. When he pulled back, his face was calmer, and there was an apologetic twist to his expression. Yuuri pushed up onto his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Viktor’s forehead, as warm and reassuring as he could make it. Viktor put a hand to Yuuri’s cheek and pulled his face down to kiss him properly. Smiling at him, Yuuri took Viktor’s hand and led him to the light-lock, letting them out of the darkroom without spoiling the pictures.
Viktor let out a long, loud breath as soon as the door was closed behind them. “Do you want to talk about it?” Yuuri asked, squeezing his hand.
Viktor shook his head as they walked down the hall towards Viktor’s living room; not a denial, Yuuri recognized, just a way to gather his thoughts. “It was like all the words I couldn’t say were backing up in my throat, and it just got too overwhelming, and I thought if I came without speaking I might explode.”
“Okay,” Yuuri said. “Thank you for telling me. We won’t do that again.”
“Thanks.” Viktor smiled at him. “We can play in the darkroom again, if you didn’t get what you needed out of it.”
Yuuri tutted at him, settling down onto the couch and tugging Viktor down after him. “What I needed was for you to be safe and comfortable, and I got that. You took perfect care of yourself, ending things when you needed to, and I’m very glad you did.” He maneuvered them until Viktor’s head was on his shoulder, Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him. “Is there anything you need now?”
Viktor hummed softly, draping his arm over Yuuri’s waist. “Yes, but I’m not sure what.”
“That’s okay,” Yuuri said. “We can just sit like this until you know.” He kissed Viktor’s forehead again and they lapsed into silence.
Viktor stirred after a few minutes. “It’s like, I want to talk to you, I want to hear your voice, but I also have all this nervous energy and kind of want to be on my own. I’m not really sure how to reconcile them.”
Yuuri released him, letting Viktor sit up straight. “Sorry for assuming you wanted to cuddle, first of all. And give me a moment.” He bit his lip, thinking. “Do you have a Bluetooth headset for your phone? With a microphone?”
“I always want to cuddle you. And yes,” Viktor said, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
“What if you went for a run and I called you, and we talked while you ran?” Yuuri asked. “Would that work?”
“I think it would,” Viktor said. “That’s brilliant, Yuuri.” He leaned forward and kissed him, a quick press of lips that left Yuuri warmed through. “You really don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Yuuri said. “Do you want me here when you get back, or should I head home while we talk?”
“Stay,” Viktor said immediately, hands flying out to grab hold of Yuuri’s wrists as though to keep him in place. “I still want to spend more time with you today, I just need a bit of space to clear my head.”
Yuuri took hold of one of Viktor’s hands and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I understand. I’ll stay right here on this couch.” Makkachin wandered into the room, drawn by their voices, and jumped up onto the couch, resting her head on Yuuri’s thigh. “See? Makka will keep me in place.”
“Perfect,” Viktor said. He stood, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “I’m going to go change.” He smiled down at Yuuri and left the room.
Yuuri called him two minutes after he went out the front door, dressed in running shorts and a faded gray t-shirt. “Are you running, or still stretching?” he asked when Viktor answered.
“Just finishing stretching,” Viktor said. “Heading off now.” Yuuri heard the slapping of footsteps as Viktor started to run. “Still there?”
“Still here,” Yuuri said. He dug his fingers into Makkachin’s fur, scritching her until her tail wagged. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Assuming our relationship continues going well and we get to that stage, which of your people should I be most scared of meeting?”
Viktor barked a surprised laugh. “I don’t think you should be scared of meeting any of them.”
“Nuh-uh,” Yuuri said, still petting Makka. “I have anxiety, I’m going to be scared. I just want one to focus on so I’m not worried about meeting everybody. So spill.”
“Hmm,” Viktor hummed. “Probably Yakov? My mentor. He taught me photography in college and never misses an opportunity to tell me what a waste I’ve made of myself, shooting porn.”
“You don’t shoot porn!” Yuuri objected, offended on Viktor’s behalf. “And I say that as someone whose shoot with you literally ended in sex.”
Viktor laughed again. “Don’t tell him that. Technically his ex-wife is objectively scarier, but she’s going to love you.”
“Oh?” Yuuri asked. “Why?”
“She’s a ballet instructor. She’ll be able to tell from the way you walk that you dance, and she’ll respect you for it.”
“I don’t dance dance,” Yuuri said. “Not professionally.”
“I’ve seen you dance, Yuuri, and you dance enough for Lilia. Trust me, she’ll love you. Yakov will too, he’ll just do it reluctantly.”
They chatted for half an hour, trading facts about their lives and arguing over movies, Viktor’s breathing growing labored in the background. “How are you feeling?” Yuuri asked.
“Much better. On my way home now, should be there in ten.”
Nine and a half minutes later, Yuuri watched the door open and Viktor, glowing pink and damp, came inside. “Oh, I like that,” Viktor said, catching sight of Yuuri and Makka still on the couch.
“Like what?” Yuuri gently moved Makka’s head and stood up, walking over to where Viktor was toeing his running shoes off.
“Coming home to you both,” Viktor said. Yuuri leaned in and kissed him for that. “Do you have to leave soon?”
Yuuri checked the time on his phone. “I can stay for another hour or so.”
“Give me five minutes to shower and we can make out on the couch until you have to go?”
“Or,” Yuuri said, and took hold of Viktor’s t-shirt. He dragged him over to the couch and pushed him down, straddling him before he could get back up. “You skip the shower, and we make out while you’re all sweaty and gorgeous.” He palmed Viktor’s neck, the skin slippery with sweat and flushed warm.
“Mmm. Compelling argument,” Viktor said, his hands coming to settle on Yuuri’s hips. “You’ve convinced me.” Yuuri grinned and leaned down to press their mouths together.