
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13596453.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Original_Character/Viktor_Nikiforov, Viktor_Nikiforov/Yuri_Plisetsky,
      Viktor_Nikiforov/Yuuri_Katsuki, Viktor_Nikiforov/Chris_Giacometti, Chris
      Giacometti/Yuri_Plisetsky, Viktor_Nikiforov/Chris_Giacometti/Yuuri
      Katsuki, Yakov_Feltsman/Georgi_Popovich
  Character:
      ORIGINAL_CHARCTERS, Viktor_Nikiforov, Yuuri_Katsuki, Yuri_Plisetsky,
      Chris_Giacometti, Yakov_Feltsman, Georgi_Popovich
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Possession, Demonic_Possession, Church_Sex, Sacrilege,
      Possessed_Sex, PROBLEMATIC!, bigbangonice2018, POV_Multiple, Tragedy,
      Horror, Dark_Fantasy, Smut_and_Angst, Porn_With_Plot, lots_of_porn, Lots
      of_Angst, Not_for_the_faint_of_heart, the_duality_of_man, Pride_Before
      Fall, Angels_and_Demons, Angelic_Plisetsky, Break_the_Haughty, A_Lesson
      in_Hubris, The_devil's_in_the_details, Post-Series
  Series:
      Part 1 of Diaboli_Virtus_in_Lumbis_est.
  Collections:
      Big_Bang!!!_on_ICE
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-12 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 46383
****** Diaboli Virtus in Lumbis est. Book One ******
by SqueezeBabe
Summary
     Viktor has been possessed by Lucifer hell-bent on destroying the
     world. How's he going to do it? Through seductive skating routines
     that induce an irrepressible lust for anyone watching, reducing the
     audience to their basest urges. But that's not enough, oh no- this is
     a big job, and he needs his other agents of darkness in on it. But of
     course, Lucifer can't do anything through easy or ethical methods...
     Which also means there are those who oppose him. Who will skate for
     the side of good? Who will get screwed? And most importantly... who's
     going to win?
Notes
     Thank you for taking the time to read this, this fic has been
     influenced by a variety of sources, mainly dark fantasy style novels
     like those of Anne Rice, Anne Bishop, Brian Lumely to name a few. I
     also have a soft spot for trashy romance novels, but reading this you
     probably can't tell. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes
     and should only be read by people who enjoy what dark fiction has to
     offer
      
     This is the first time I've written anything so... big >.>
      
     FIRST - a HUGE thank you, an unbelievably HUGE thank you to the
     following people:
     Narikopathfinder - for giving me earworms and ideas and giving me
     more work than what I needed :p
     Gabapple - for encouraging me, and Beta'ing this monstrosity of a
     fic, and for letting me cry and whinge at her, AND FOR WRITING MY
     AMAZING SUMMARY!!!
     Mer, Helle, Bee, and Topcatnikki - for attempting to Beta my fic -
     I'm sorry it was too much for you guys T^T
     And a big thank you to everyone else not mentioned for encouraging me
     and helping me and listening to me meltdown over my fic.
     A HUGE THANKYOU TO NEKOPHELIA FOR DRAWING AMAZING ART FOR MY FIC!!!!
     http://nekophelia.tumblr.com/post/170957729888/my-piece-for-the-
     bigbangonice-event-i-got-paired
***** The Virtue of the Devil is in the Loins *****
Chapter Summary
     Crushed by his loss in competition, young Viktor Nikiforov makes a
     deal with the Devil to become the greatest skater in the world - but
     at what cost?
Viktor looked up at the sky, grey and muted, a light dusting of snow gently
falling, brushing against his face before melting. He let out a small sigh.
He’d lost.
He hadn’t made the podium. He’d over rotated on two of his jumps; perhaps it
was nerves or not being confident enough… maybe the triple axel was a bit
ambitious... He kicked at the snow on the ground. He’d worked reallyhard for
this competition, practiced until the blisters on his feet bled and he’d thrown
up from exertion. Disappointment rose hot and bitter in the back of his throat
and he could almost taste the bile once again.
Throwing his head back, Viktor let out a frustrated scream at the world, the
tears finally coming, soothing the hot pin-pricks behind his eyes. Silvery
blonde strands fell from his face, flecks of snow melting before touching his
skin.
“I should have won!” he sobbed,  his throat constricting with the effort.
Legs going wobbly underneath him, he fell to his knees in the snow. A small
figure alone against the backdrop of grey tones and softly falling snow.
The crunch of footsteps alerted him to the presence of another. He hurriedly
wiped his face and struggled to his feet. It wouldn’t do him any good to be
seen by an official, coach, or even his rink mates. He was supposed to be
better than this. He took a deep breath to calm himself and looked to see who
was approaching.
The man was tall, seeming to fill his vision, the background fading away. Dark
button-up coat, black scarf to ward against the chill, dark trousers ending in
black leather boots. Sharp.
Viktor felt like recoiling, though he didn’t know why.
Vitya.
The voice that uttered the diminutive was warm, slowly wrapping around him like
a caress. Viktor’s eyes widened slightly though he didn’t know why. He looked
up into the stranger’s face and was immediately lost in eyes so dark that he
felt like he was falling into nothingness. A feeling of cold, black emptiness
swept over him and he shivered.
A gloved hand reached out to run a finger down the side of his cheek, cupping
his chin to tilt his head further upwards, ensuring he was unable to look away.
The hand felt impossibly hot, like it was burning his skin through the leather.
“Vitya, why the tears?”
The voice was soft, husky, like velvet brushing against his senses. He thought
he could hear the beating of wings, or was it the thump of his heart in his
chest?
Viktor swallowed hard, the words having difficulty forming. “I-I didn’t win.”
Thin lips curled into a small smile. “Did you want to win Vitya?” There was a
pause, “Do you want to win? Are you prepared to do anything?”
Viktor blinked, of course he wanted to win! Of course he’d do anything to win!
Winning was everything. Ever since he could remember, he was told that he was
destined for greatness, the expectation to win was steeped into his very name,
Viktor Nikiforov. Victory.
Those dark eyes continued to draw him in, everything else in his vision fading.
He heard the rushing in his ears, the rustle of soft feathery wings, and he
felt as if he was endlessly falling.
He tried to nod his head, but the fingers grasping his chin tightened almost
painfully, forcing him to choke out the words. Fear followed quickly on the
heels of the burst of anger he felt, just who was this man who that touched him
so familiarly, and forced him to respond?
“Yes.”
Viktor blinked as the air stilled around them and the chill deepened. He could
feel it settling deep into his bones, icy fingers grabbing at his soul. The boy
shivered.
The stranger released his grip on Viktor’s face and took a step back. Viktor
blinked in confusion, was that it? Why on earth would some stranger care
whether his desire to win was strong enough?
“Vitya, you better return now. Others will be looking for you, can you not hear
them calling?”
Viktor looked around, now that he’d mentioned it, he could hear someone calling
his name. He turned back to look at the stranger.
But he was gone.
 
                           X---X---X---X---X---X---X
                                        
Viktor tossed and turned in bed. The thin sheet felt heavy against his body,
his pajamas scratching against his feverish skin. He just felt so hot. He’d
already kicked off the heavy duvet, and was now attempting to do the same to
the sheet as he writhed on his bed. He didn’t understand why he felt so warm,
had he caught a chill from being outside after the competition? Yakov would
kill him if he got sick now...
He could hear the soft thump of beating wings, or was it the blood rushing
through his ears?
Vitya.
A voice crooned through the darkness, whispered against his senses and rasped
against his soul. It puddled in the pit of his stomach like warm-hued honey.
Viktor let out a strangled sounding gasp. He could feel heat curling through
his body, snaking its way along his limbs and into his chest. He could feel it
twist through his body; molten. He’d never felt sensations such as these; he
could feel a twinge of fear as he felt his body respond in unfamiliar ways.
His back arched off the bed, silver blonde hair sticking to his feverish face,
his turquoise eyes bright.
Vitya… you promised… do you remember?
Viktor’s head fell back against the pillow, his neck straining against the
sensations the seductive words pulled from him, breathy puffs escaping from his
lips.
Anything Vitya… you said you would do anything…
The feeling of feathery darkness enveloped him, the mattress sinking with
additional weight. Viktor could feel a wave of panic rising within him, warring
with the other sensations he was feeling. He could feel pressure all around
him, a juxtaposition of fear and comfort.
A thumb, firm, yet gentle, applied pressure to his bottom lip, the flesh slowly
being pulled downward until his mouth opened slightly, a breathy whine escaping
from between his teeth. The thumb pad brushed against the skin of his lower
lip, the warmth causing it to tingle, the sensation travelling downwards to add
itself to the others.
Viktor’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he nuzzled towards the
pressure.
You want to win… don’t you, Vitya…
The words wrapped themselves around his heart and squeezed until he thought
that it would burst. A tongue lapped against his lower lip, before a mouth
covered his. Hot. Insistent.
Viktor moaned against that mouth as the kiss seemed to pull the very air from
his lungs until they burned, his moans changing to whimpers as the hot tongue
entered his mouth, brushing against his own, tasting sweet and spicy, like
mulled Christmas wine.
I can make you win, Vitya…
The words were whispered, hot breath fanning against the sensitive shell of his
ear. Fingers slowly trailed their way down his body, a nail catching on the
tiny nub of his nipple, wringing a small cry from his lips.
Viktor’s head lolled to the side, the long thin column of his neck exposed. Hot
lips brushed against the pale flesh. His skin felt as if it was being touched
by fire.
He could feel the fingers sinking lower, slipping under the waistband of his
pajamas. A needy cry spilled from his lips as they brushed against parts of him
that throbbed.He could feel his body responding, seeking out more of the
sensations that made his mouth go dry with wanting more.
Give this to me, Vitya…
He could feel fingers pressing against him, lower. He arched into them.
Give this to me... and I’ll make you win…  Do you want to win, Vitya?
The words pulled at him. Those fingers pushed against him, seeking entrance.
Ssssaaaaaayyyyy it, Viiityaaaaaa...
A sibilant hiss.
He struggled to form the words, a mewl escaping as those fingers pushed past
the tight ring of muscle and touched him.
His body writhed, twisted. Those fingers coaxing the most delicious sensations
from him, his own hands clutching and scrabbling against the mattress, filling
him up and bringing him to the edge of reasoning. He wanted more... he’d do
anything...
Viiiiiiiiityaaaaaaa… 
His name a sing-song lilt as those fingers worked inside him, stoking a fire
that felt impossibly hot; he felt like he was going to burn from the inside
out, leaving nothing but ash behind.
He shuddered, head thrown back; a keening wail ripped from his throat. Burning
skin momentarily cooled by the spattering moisture.
Those fingers stilled, withdrew, leaving him feeling empty.
 Say it, Vitya. Tell me you want to win. Tell me you want thissssss…
Something blunt and heavy pressed against flesh made sensitive by those
fingers.
Viktor swallowed hard, as it pushed against him slowly. He whined, he mewled.
His tears did nothing to douse the fire that threatened to consume him once
more.
Vitya…
It was a whisper in the darkness.
“YES!”
His scream ripped through him a fraction before Lucifer’s cock did.
Viktor didn’t think that such a thing was possible, but realisation slowly came
to him, the feathers, the darkness, the heat… Viktor had been penetrated by the
Devil himself… he shrieked, and cried. He sobbed, and hiccupped his pleas until
his throat was raw. Lucifer just laughed, low and throaty, as he thrust into
the soft young body.
“You said you wanted this, Vitya,” he crooned, “You promised you would give me
anything…” He grunted as he thrust again. “This is for me Vitya, only me…”
Viktor could only whimper… why did it hurt so much?
That hot hand cupped his face, the thumb brushing away the tears that fell, the
heat making them evaporate with a faint hiss. “You will give me this, Vitya,”
the Devil paused momentarily, seeming to revel in the way Viktor’s body clung
to him, “And in return, you will never lose.”
The thrusts increased in pace and intensity, Viktor could feel them reaching up
inside of him, touching him in places he didn’t know existed. The burning pain
had given way to the same molten heat that had consumed him earlier, but this
time burned hotter. Viktor thought that he might truly catch fire, immolate
from the sheer intensity of the pleasure that was being wrung from his pliant
body.
With an animalistic growl, Lucifer emptied himself deep inside the young boy,
pulling another keening wail from Viktors lips as he shuddered against the
feeling of the Devil’s seed inside him. A delicious sensation that burned.
Viktor woke with a start, chest heaving, sucking the cool night air into his
lungs. His hair was plastered against his face, stuck down with sweat, the bed
sheets twisted around his lithe frame. He struggled to get up from his bed,
sheets and pajamas tangling him up, causing him to fall to the floor with a
loud thud. Scrabbling against the floor, he managed to untangle himself and
raced for the bathroom, making it in time to vomit into the sink. His body
rebelling against the knowledge that he’d done something inherently wrong… no
matter good it had felt.
He wiped his mouth and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Could he see the
faint red marks against his skin that faded as he blinked? He pushed his hand
between his legs, half expecting it to come away with slick moisture… but there
was nothing. Even his stomach, where he knew that there should have been some
kind of… evidence, was dry. What kind of dream did he just have? He struggled
to hang onto the memories, but the harder he tried, the more they flitted away
beyond his reach. He splashed some cool water onto his face, staring once more
at his reflection, searching. As vivid as the dream had seemed, how real it had
felt, it was nothing more than a ghosting of sensation; a faint feeling of
warmth that was soon replaced by the cool night air
Padding back to his bedroom, he rearranged the sheets back onto his bed,
sliding under the covers once more, curling himself into a ball against the
chill that was settling into his body. It had been a nasty dream; a vivid
nightmare… he closed his eyes, his body feeling heavy.
Vitya.
His name whispered into the darkness, the sound like wind blowing away a pile
of ash.
***** Chapter Two *****
Chapter Summary
     It's been years since Viktor sold his soul, and things have been
     good. So good. He's found life and love, and a legacy of gold medals;
     what more could he want? Really, he should have expected that his
     benefactor would come to collect....
Yakov watched the young boy lazily skate around the rink, seemingly lost in his
own little world. A small smile touched his gruff features; perhaps losing had
been good for Viktor. The boy definitely had talent and, with a bit more hard
work, he would definitely become a force to be reckoned with. The child had
become complacent, perhaps he didn’t think he had to work as hard; it didn’t
matter that he was the best junior skater in Russia, he had been shown that he
wasn’t the best outside of it.
A thud alerted Yakov to another part of the rink where Georgi had just fallen.
The old man felt a twinge of guilt for not noticing what jump he’d missed, but
he still barked out across the ice, “Georgi! What was that supposed to be?
The dark-haired boy scrambled back to his feet, his cheeks red from exertion
and embarrassment. Yakov tutted under his breath, Georgi was certainly trying,
but he lacked the polish of his slightly older counterpart, and it didn’t
matter how much Yakov tried to polish him; he never seemed to shine as brightly
as Viktor.
Despite this, Georgi had been doing better than Viktor; scoring higher in the
competitions that actually mattered, especially the last one. Yakov was worried
when Viktor had disappeared after the competition. Not only had he lost, but he
had lost to Georgi; that alone would have definitely wounded the boy’s pride.
Viktor was showy and flashy, winning most of his points for artistic merit.
Georgi was solid in his technique, but lacked the expressiveness required to
convey the message behind his skating.
Yakov clapped his hands together. “Enough, I want to see those triples that you
both failed, and I want you to do them until you have them right this time!”
Both skaters seemed to have the artistic aspects of their routines down pat;
both had failed during their more technical jumps, and of course those who were
slightly older, stronger, and had more experience had managed more difficult
jumps, and thus had scored higher. Viktor had over-rotated on two of his jumps,
and Georgi had touched the ice. They would need to work on these things if they
had any hope of placing outside of Russia.
He watched the two set off across the ice, building up speed and momentum to
execute their jumps. Viktor landed cleanly; Georgi wobbled, but managed to stay
upright… and so it went, Yakov watching with a critical eye. He frowned, there
was something about the way Viktor was jumping, each one seemingly technically
perfect, each one a carbon copy of the one before it. Georgi was showing steady
improvement with each repetition, his face a mask of concentration and effort;
a stark contrast to Viktor’s, which looked almost bored.
Yakov shook his head, it’s not like he could yell at Viktor for looking bored.
He clapped his hands once more. “Enough! Warm down!” He wasn’t going to be able
to push them any further for the day, Georgi already looked to be at his limit,
and Viktor was just hiding it better. He watched the two boys skate together,
talking to each other as they did so; Georgi’s face was earnest and pleading,
whilst Viktor had just stuck his nose in the air. Yakov chuckled, perhaps some
friendly rivalry would spur them on.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Viktor could feel Georgi’s eyes on him the whole time they were training
together; he was desperate to not make eye contact with his friend and rival.
He could feel the younger boy’s stare, like it was trying to drill a hole in
the back of his head. It made Viktor feel...guilty … Why would I have anything
to be guilty over? It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong…   Perhaps he just
felt guilty about the fact that he was doing his best to avoid Georgi.
“Are you okay, Vitya?” Georgi’s face is a mask of concern and worry for his
friend. Viktor’s eyes widened slightly, did Georgi know about… Viktor could
feel his stomach twisting in knots.
Viktor swallowed thickly, trying to quell the anxiousness building up inside
him, before answering curtly, “I’m fine,” and attempted to skate further ahead
to avoid the conversation altogether. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but
his thoughts were a sea of turmoil in his mind.
Georgi skated faster to catch up, hand reaching out in a comforting gesture
that Viktor neatly dodged. He could see the hurt flash momentarily over
Georgi’s face. “Are you sure that everything is okay? I mean, I thought you
might’ve been upset...”
“I said there’s nothing wrong!” Viktor gritted his teeth against the rising
tide of frustration. “Why won’t you just believe me?!” His pale face was
flushed with anger.
Georgi bit his lip. “You seem, different Vitya…”
The boy waved his hands helplessly. Viktor scowled, of course he was different,
the confusing dream that he had, and now his body seemingly moved on its own
across the ice. Those jumps were perfect, and he knew deep in his heart, that
he couldn’t have done that many without a mistake. He quickly pushed the
thought away, burying the doubts in the back of his mind.
“You’re just jealous that I’m better than you now! I don’t need someone like
you holding me back all the time!”
Viktor knew that he’d said something truly hurtful, but it was too late to take
the words back. He should apologise, say something, but an awkward silence hung
between them. Neither boy said anything, and eventually Georgi turned away, his
eyes bright with tears, leaving Viktor alone on the ice.
Viktor swallowed hard a few times, trying to push down the lump that was fast
rising in his throat, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes to stop
his own tears from falling. Georgi was one of the only friends he had, and he’d
pushed him away through guilt and fear…
Viiiiityaaaaa.
Viktor’s head shot up and he looked around wildly for the source of the
whisper, and realised that he now was the only person in the rink.
You don’t need friends, Viiiityaaa, you have me now…
The whisper was soft and seductive, wrapping around his heart and calming his
thoughts. It was right, he had a different friend now, one that was going to
help him win.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
It became clear over the coming months that Viktor Nikiforov was indeed on his
way to becoming the best figure skater that the world had ever seen. Each
competition was technically flawless; poetry in motion, and he quickly rose in
the public eye. He had garnered the reputation for being cold and aloof, his
interviews rehearsed, until they, too, were flawless. The question on
everyone’s lips: just who was the real Viktor Nikiforov? Yakov snorted as he
read the latest article that was trying to interpret Viktor’s latest skating
routine. If only they knew the half of it.
When Viktor had won his first gold medal, Yakov had been ecstatic, proud in the
knowledge that he had been proved right in regards to Viktor’s talent. At first
he’d thought that the rivalry between the two boys had been responsible, but as
the months continued, it was obvious that Viktor was leaving Georgi behind, to
the point where it was useless to have the two of them on the ice at the same
time. Georgi would just stare forlornly at Viktor as he watched him skate, and
then his own skating was badly affected. Yakov frowned. Surely they would get
over whatever it was eventually, but he didn’t have time to be coddling
Georgi’s heartbreak, not when it was obvious that Viktor was succeeding where
Georgi was not.
An unease settled over Yakov as he pondered the deteriorating relationship
between the two boys. Viktor had certainly changed; as he continued to win, the
happiness that he had once expressed over his skating had slowly morphed into
boredom. The smiles he showed for the audience and the cameras was not the same
smile that he’d exhibited when he’d first skated out onto the ice and landed
his first jump successfully.
Yakov sighed softly. Viktor was wowing the world with his beautiful routines;
he was giving inspiration to a new breed of figure skaters as competitors
attempted to match him. His routines were almost awe-inspiring, speaking to the
audience of love and beauty; Viktor was a picture of ethereal exquisiteness on
the ice. People had begun contacting Yakov and demanding, begging that he help
them with their routines… Yakov frowned at the thought. He would have agreed,
but that would mean admitting that he had nothing to do with Viktor’s routines;
anyone who joined his stable of competitors would learn the truth soon enough.
 
Yakov had stopped choreographing Viktor’s routines when it became clear that
the young man didn’t need his help. In fact, Yakov wasn’t sure what his purpose
was, as he certainly wasn’t coaching Viktor to do anything. The boy would come
to the rink, eyes bright with fervour, and just skate. In the beginning, he’d
at least ask Yakov if he approved, and when questioned about where he got the
idea from, Viktor would look askance and mutter something about it how he
“dreamt it.” Now, Viktor just skated whatever he wanted, and all Yakov could do
was follow along helplessly. It didn’t really matter as long as he was winning.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
It was a drink, a toast to times old and new. Yakov raised his glass. “Five
times, Vitya, you’re a five time world champion. Russia is proud.”
Viktor smiled warmly at his coach, and took a mouthful of his own drink. It
wasn’t just the world championships; it was literally everything. He had won
gold at Worlds, the Grand Prix, the Nationals, even the Olympics ...but it was
nice that Yakov was drunk enough to omit those details.
The Sochi banquet was the same as all the others, a mixture of celebration and
networking; Yakov used them to attract new students, but it seemed that he was
less interested this year; Yuri Plisetsky was keeping the old man busy. Viktor
studied the contents of his glass before taking another swallow. Yuri was
everything that Viktor was at the same age, perhaps even more. He had the same
effortless grace, except Viktor had seen how hard the youngster worked at it;
he put more effort into his skating than Viktor ever had.
Viktor looked over the people in the room; his rivals were all milling about,
making new connections, re-establishing old ones, and just generally trying to
unwind after a particularly hard season… for some of them. There was a bit of a
commotion around the dance floor, enough of a distraction at least for Viktor
to pay attention to what was going on… and he had to laugh, Yuuri Katsuki, the
Japanese skater was… definitely drunk. He smiled into his glass as he watched
the man shimmy his way across the floor, and found himself openly staring at
the way the movements were unreserved, unashamed, and definitely sexy.
Viktor was only slightly shocked, he would’ve remembered if someone had moved
like that during the skating, but for the life of him couldn’t remember. He was
entranced, something about Yuuri spoke to him on a visceral level, touched his
soul and breathed new life into something he was sure was cold and dead inside
him. This man shone a light into the darkness he thought was all but
impenetrable; Viktor could feel something like a dam bursting inside him. When
this night was over, he vowed to find this man again. If anyone could save him
from himself, it was Yuuri Katsuki.
And find him he did, leaving Russia in the middle of everything, telling Yakov
that this was something important to him (not that he could stop him anyway),
and getting on the next plane to Japan after witnessing the Japanese skater
pulling off his Free Skate on youtube. Viktor could feel the nervous energy
bubbling inside him, unsure of what it meant, but willing to risk everything
for it. Anything was better than continuing his life and skating as he was now,
a broken, empty shell with nothing but dust inside him.
Under his guidance and coaching Yuuri had blossomed, and so did his love. The
more time he spent in Japan and with Yuuri, the more Viktor became convinced
that this pure, shining love he felt would somehow fill in the cracks and make
him feel whole again. At first he tried to keep Yuuri at arm’s length, worried
that the darkness inside would somehow taint everything around him, but slowly
and surely, Yuuri stuck by him, coaxed, and cajoled him along, and told him,
“Never take your eyes off me.
All the while, in the back of his mind, he worried that it wouldn’t last, that
he would have another dream and that it would all come crashing down around
him. The voice that had dogged him for the last fifteen years was strangely
silent, allowing him to hope that perhaps it was all over, he was after all,
the best skater there ever was.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
                                        
Viktor moved lazily out onto the ice. It was a rare moment that he got to use
the rink just for himself, but it was one of his conditions for making his
comeback at the Russian Nationals: that he had at least an hour for personal
use, not even Yuri or Yakov were allowed to watch him during his practice
session. He spun slowly, lost in his thoughts. Yuuri, his precious Yuuri, had
gotten a silver medal; he’d coached him to get to that point… Yuuri could’ve
easily gotten there without his help, but his anxious love just needed the
right kind of push. They’d parted after the Grand Prix, with promises of being
together after Nationals, so that they could both focus, Viktor especially;
after all, he only had two weeks to prepare.
Pulling himself together, Viktor idly moved through a step sequence, getting
used to the feeling before he begun moving with greater purpose, building up
speed over the ice.
Methodically he began his jumps: first singles, then doubles, then triples…
quadruples… everything was perfect and flawless. He was even nailing the triple
axel, something that should have been on the very edge of his capabilities. He
chewed his bottom lip and made another lap around the rink before attempting
his next jump. Gathering his legs underneath him, he felt the muscles of his
thighs bunch and he thrust himself into the air. One rotation, two, three,
four… and a half . He landed the quad axel neatly. The realisation hit him a
fraction of a second later. He’d just done one of the hardest, no, impossible
jumps a figure skater could attempt.
Viktor set off over the ice once more, gathering speed before attempting a
different jump; one rotation, two, three, four… five. He landed cleanly, the
momentum nearly sending him into the wall. He stopped suddenly, sending up a
shower of ice. He was breathing heavily, was it exertion? Shock? As far as he
was concerned, he’d just done the impossible. Five rotations for a jump.
He shook his head at himself and skated around the rink once more, and jumped
again. And again. Each jump perfect. Flawless... and with five rotations.
Nobody would even have a chance at winning.
He felt the familiar stirrings of anticipation. He would be able to perform
once more, he’d be able to show the world something new and surprise them all.
Deep in his heart, Viktor was a performer, he lived for the show, and what a
show it would be...
Realisation rose up, bitter in the back of his throat, making his mouth taste
like ash. He’d thought, perhaps however futilely, that he was free… but of
course, his world records had been broken, by both Yuri Plisetsky, and Yuuri
Katsuki; was it coincidence that they were the two most important people in his
life? He felt an irrational tide of anger rise up within him, one that
threatened to swamp any feelings of goodwill towards the pair; after all, he
still needed to be the greatest skater that ever was.

                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Viiiiiiiityaaaaaaa . ”
The whisper was a caress in the darkness. Viktor shuddered. He could feel the
familiar heat coil through his body. Part of him had missed this. He could feel
his body writhing in anticipation of what was to come.
Did you think I had forgotten about you?
Viktor’s mouth went dry. Part of him had thought that he’d been forgotten
about; that same part twisted within him… how he needed this.
How he deserved it.
Poor Viiiiitya, preeecious Viiitya… Did you miss me?
He felt the familiar weight, the feathery darkness surrounding him; his skin
felt so sensitive that even the slightest breath of air set his core aflame. He
moaned into that darkness, feeling himself getting painfully hard at the
thought of what was to come. Had it really been over a year since he last felt
this? He hadn’t realised that it was like an addiction, that he had been
craving this touch the whole time… that anything he’d felt with Yuuri was a
poor imitation of what he was feeling right now…
A warm hand cupped his face, tilted his chin upwards so that hotter lips could
capture his own, and the smooth taste of cinnamon and cloves filled his mouth
as a rough tongue swiped against his own. Viktor moaned again, louder, tilting
his head to deepen the kiss, arms wrapping around the firm muscular body that
was pinning him down. A dry, throaty chuckle washed over him, the breath
caressing the sensitive flesh of his ear, making him whine high and needy. He
felt additional pressure against his pelvis, a firm touch around his aching
cock.
Do you need this, Vitya? Look how you weep for me…
And Viktor did, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and precum oozing
from his slit. Every part of his body was leaking, waiting, begging.  He choked
out a sob as a thumb brushed over his tip, gathering the slick before sliding
it down his shaft. He arched into the embrace, fingers digging into the
shoulders above him, his head finding the space between the neck and the
shoulder. Viktor breathed the delicious musky scent that made his body burn
hotter, his need burn brighter; a wordless cry escaped his lips as the fingers
moved lower, briefly cupping his balls, a borderline painful squeeze that just
made him writhe and moan before brushing across the sensitive flesh beneath.
Viktor could feel his mind fracturing. Part of him was panting and moaning,
seeking out the torturous heat that was steadily engulfing him… and the other
part was horrified at the truth of what was happening… but it wasn’t enough to
jolt him from what was happening. He loved Yuuri. Yuuri was going to save him
from this, was supposed to save him from this...He could feel his helplessness
swirling through him, rising up and washing over him. He could feel part of
himself disappearing into that maelstrom, and just as he felt the searing pain
of fingers entering him…
His mind broke.
Viktor pushed himself onto those fingers, a voice he didn’t recognise moaned in
abandon, words spilling from his lips that begged for more.
A hand snaked its way through his hair, fisting itself at the back and pulling
his head back to expose his throat. Sharp teeth nipped at the pale flesh and
Viktor just moaned louder, grinding himself on the fingers that were still deep
inside him.
Ah, Vitya, look how you need me right here…
The deep, gravelly voice punctuated his statement with a particularly vicious
thrust and all Viktor could do was babble incoherently, while inside his own
head he screamed and clawed at the walls of his mind. 
Those fingers found the sweet spot hidden inside him and began to work it.
Viktor felt the familiar flames and heat inside him, burning hotter and
brighter with each caress. He gripped the shoulders above him as tight as he
could, his nails scrabbling at the broad muscular back, as a hot, wet tongue
teased the shell of his ear, and an equally hot breath fanned across the
moisture it had left behind.
Come for me, Vitya, give yourself over to me…
The words coupled with the sensations that he was feeling tipped him over the
edge. With a shuddering cry, his back arched until he thought it might break
and he could feel his muscles contract painfully, sending thick spatters of
white over his chest.
He lay there, chest heaving and tears sliding down his flushed cheeks. Was it
over?
A thumb tenderly wiped the tears from his face, following their trail down to
his chin before a hand gripped it hard, forcing him to look up into that face.
Dark eyes that pierced his soul and made him feel like he was falling forever,
captured his own and held him in their gaze.
I know you’re still in there, Vitya, did you think you could escape from me by
hiding in the corners of your mind?
Viktor could feel himself compelled, the heavy feeling of his body came back to
him as he returned to his senses; the delicious sting of his abused hole, the
raspy feeling of his throat an indication that all he’d done was moan and cry
in sheer lust. He swallowed hard against the fear rising within him.
The hand released its grip on his chin and patted his cheek, Good boy, Vitya,
and now, you’ll get your reward…
Those words set his soul aflame once more and Viktor could feel his legs being
spread, his hips being angled, and that blunt pressure against his bud. Before
he could even utter a sound, the blunt head pushed itself past the tight ring
of flesh and he could feel himself being filled.
 A breathy moan escaped his lips, and he instinctively wrapped his legs around
Lucifer’s hips, trying to draw him in closer, deeper, part of him wanting to
lose himself once more. He could feel the blunt head of the cock inside him
scrape against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had been abused earlier; it
made him shudder and twitch, and he could feel himself swelling to hardness
once more.
A few slow thrusts stoked the new heat that pooled within him. Viktor could
feel himself arching into those thrusts, wanting to be filled more, wanting to
feel more. Strong hands gripped his thighs, and he could feel himself being
moved into a new position, being rearranged to suit… his arse high in the air,
and his cheek pushed down into the bed beneath them. Those same hands now
gripped his hips, and he could feel himself open up and accept more of
Lucifer’s thick length.
 I know this is what you wanted to feel, Vitya. Does it not feel good to be
speared by me?
 Viktors only response was to moan loudly, grip the sheets and thrust his hips
back, wanting to fit as much as possible inside him. Viktor could feel himself
disappearing into his own head once more, the assault on his senses too much to
bear. He felt additional pressure in the small of his back, forcing his arse
even higher, a strong hand pushing his shoulders into the bed. Hot breath blew
against the shell of his ear and a throaty chuckle made his stomach clench.
 Are you hiding from me again, Vitya? 
The question was punctuated by a vicious thrust that made him cry out his need.
The words dripped like honey, warm and cloying, and wrapped themselves around
his soul.
You know you can’t hide from me, Vitya, I own you… I own yoursoul.
Lucifer undulated his hips, rolling them to find that spot deep within Viktor,
a keening wail and desperate scrabbling his reward for finding it.
“P-please…” Viktor was begging, but for what?
The grip on his hip tightened, a hand fisted into his hair and used it to bend
his body backwards until he was bowed against firm muscles and velvet flesh,
hot breath prickling at the skin of his neck as sharp teeth nipped the feverish
skin. Long, slow thrusts reached up inside him, and his arms reached up behind
himself to grab onto the shoulders that were supporting him. A firm arm reached
around his chest, pausing to flick a fingernail over a nipple, the other arm
snaking low and tight over his hips to hold him steady.
The thrusts increased in pace and intensity, a cycle fueled by Viktors short
high moans with each one, his skin shiny with sweat, and hair plastered to his
face, his eyes glazed over.
He could feel the tension building, the heat that threatened to burn him to
ash, every nerve ending on fire. His cry was hoarse, his orgasm literally
fucked out of him, when the Devil’s molton seed filled him to the brim, burning
trails down his thighs.
Viktor fell forward, Lucifer’s weight pressing him into the bed. The feathery
darkness surrounded him, cocooning him from the world.
Vitya, you are mine now, you always have been. Sleep, Vitya. When you awaken,
the world will be new.
Viktors eyes felt heavier than they’d ever been, he felt himself falling into a
darkness that seemed to stretch on forever. The feathery feeling felt warm.
Safe.
Falling.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
The hot water felt good against his skin as it washed away the sweat and slick
left behind. He made sure to clean every inch of his skin; his pale flesh now
pink from the heat and scrubbing. A momentary pause under the heat before he
reached to turn the taps off. The bathroom was silent except for the drip of
water droplets. 
Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and padded over
to the bathroom vanity, looking carefully over himself, assessing the damage.
His neck was bruised, purple from the bite marks, red lines from nails marked
his skin… he watched them slowly fade until his skin was porcelain once more,
pure and untouched.
A smile quirked his lips, his turquoise eyes bright with mirth as he pushed the
damp silver hair away from his face.
Lucifer chuckled.
As far as bodies went, thiswas one of his better ones.
***** Chapter Three *****
Chapter Summary
     No one expects the fiery performance of returning champion Viktor
     Nikiforov at Russian Nationals, or the strange effect that it has on
     the audience. Least especially the embittered Yuri Plistetsky, who
     suspects that there's more to this than Viktor's letting on.
The Yekaterinburg rink was quiet, the lighting muted, shedding a soft glow over
the ice. Lucifer ran a hand through the damp silvery strands of hair that
covered his face and pushed them back. It had been a while since he’d occupied
a body, and he was still getting the feel of it. Skating the routine had been
the easy part, executing the jumps even easier now that he was in full control.
He liked the way Viktor’s body felt, all hard muscle with lithe flexibility.
The man was certainly in his prime, and he hadn’t lost much in the way of
condition whilst he was coaching… there was something to be said for being as
hands-on as he was.
Lucifer had enjoyed watching Viktor, biding his time for when he could claim
the soul that was promised to him all those years ago; all the while, a plan
forming in his mind on how he could cause the downfall of mankind once more.
After all, he couldn’t be the epitome of evil if he wasn’t plotting something.
The fight against evil was something that had been going on for millennia;
something before the time of man itself, when there were only angels and
demons. The world had become both a playground and battleground; the fight for
supremacy never far from anyone’s mind. Sometimes evil triumphed over good, and
other times good over evil… Lucifer chuckled, it wasn’t so much the winning
that he enjoyed, rather it was how the game was played. One of his lesser
demons had given him an idea for this new round of armageddon; it was subtle
and unexpected and perhaps it would give them the edge needed to succeed.
The actual competition would be where he would test out the plan. If everything
went the way it should, then it would be easy enough to put the other parts of
the plan into action. If things didn’t work out… well, he had a shiny new body
to explore the world with until he got bored, and then he’d leave Viktor to
himself, most likely a broken man, but he’d have taken his soul, and that’s all
that mattered.
“Vitya!” Lucifer’s musings were disturbed by an angry cry across the stadium
and he turned to see who was shouting out to him. “Yakov wants to know if
you’re finished with your secret practice.” The words were said with a sneer.
“Not that it’s going to help you anyway, because we both know that I’m going to
beat you.”
Lucifer snorted, “We both know that you’re largely full of shit, Yura. You only
won because I wasn’t there, AND because you skated a routine that I made for
you.”
Yuri had closed the distance between them, the hood of his jacket was up, and
his hands were rebelliously shoved into his pockets.
“You just keep telling yourself that old man…” Yuri’s glare was more from
embarrassment rather than dislike; after all, he was a teenager; fighting
against the world and everything in it, it seemed. “I just need to beat you
here, and then you can retire and go back to your piggy.”
The words were said without venom, but still carried a small sting. Lucifer
might be controlling Viktor’s body, but Viktor was still responding to the
things happening around them.
Lucifer’s hand snaked out to grip Yuri’s chin, forcing him to look upwards and
into Viktor’s eyes.
“Careful, Yura . That piggy could have beaten you without the fancy tricks you
pulled for the points.” Lucifer gave a small squeeze for emphasis before
releasing his grip. “You can tell Yasha that he can have the rink for the rest
of the day… I will be… resting in my room at the hotel should anyone require my
attention.”
He left Yuri there, heading off to the change rooms to rid himself of his
skates and sweaty clothes, guards tapping softly as he walked. There were
certainly a lot of things to think about and prepare for.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri watched Viktor’s disappearing form. “Well, that was new…” sharp eyes
narrowed at the thought. There was nothing wrong with Viktor having called him
“Yura,” he’d done it ever since he’d joined Yakov’s team, but to call Yakov
Yasha, that was unheard of. If the old man had heard it, he’d have a heart
attack on the spot, and if he’d survived that, he would use Viktor’s naked body
to smooth out the ice in lieu of the machine that did it.
He chewed his bottom lip. Viktor wasn’t different… but he was different . In a
way, his romance with Yuuri, the Japanese skater, had been good for him. It had
brought a light to his eyes and spring to his step. The change was noticeable
to him; the Viktor he knew was the master at pretending, the consummate
performer, not the one no one saw when he thought that nobody was looking; the
Viktor that had come back drunk one night and couldn’t seem to stop crying.
Apparently not drunk enough to talk about why he was so upset, but drunk enough
to let the mask slip… and the next day when Yuri had tried to talk to him about
it, Viktor just looked at him, puzzled, and told him that there was nothing
wrong.
Yuri shook his head to clear it, turning on his heel to trot back to where
Yakov was waiting outside. Viktor might be making his comeback at this
competition, but it didn’t mean that he was going to win.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
The air was crisp, the sky clear. It was a seemingly perfect day, a perfect
time to see if his plan was going to work. It was always good to be able to
wreak havoc on seemingly perfect days, nobody saw it coming. Lucifer was
sitting quietly, letting the chaos of the competition move around him, a small
smile playing around his lips. A tap on his shoulder caught his attention.
“Vitya, are you actually prepared for this?” Yakov’s gruff voice was quiet. “If
this is a stunt…”
Lucifer gave the old man a bright smile. “It will be amazing, you’ll see. The
world will be shocked!”
Yakov glared, “As long as the world isn’t shocked because you’ve failed so
badly. Vitya. There is hype and there is hype. There is nothing worse than not
living up to the expectations you’ve set up. It’s not just you who will look
bad, it will be all of us!”
Lucifer patted him on the shoulder, an attempt to be reassuring. It seemed that
Viktor’s disappearance to dabble in coaching had affected the old man somewhat.
Yakov had most definitely been subjected to some close scrutiny; unable to
control Viktor or prevent him from leaving… the only thing that had softened
that blow had been Yuri’s achievements.  
Lucifer smiled again, a predatory gleam lighting his eyes. “Worry not, Yasha, I
will win, and I will win well.”
Yakov shivered despite himself. The aura around Viktor had changed in the last
few days. It had taken on a wolfish quality, subtle but dangerous. So dangerous
feeling that he couldn’t even bring himself to take Viktor to task over calling
him Yasha, as disrespectful as it was. He settled for pulling the collar of his
jacket tighter around his neck, as if to ward off the chill of the ice.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Standing out in the middle of the ice, the stadium was quiet. The moment of
silence before his performance started. He was the last skater as per his
request. The little Ice Tiger had performed brilliantly, far ahead of the
competition. His score hadn’t been quite as good as that in the Grand Prix, but
still quite high; it would be a solid win… if it wasn’t for him. Viktor smiled
wide, predatory, settling himself into his starting pose and waited for the
music to start.
His short program costume was subtle in its design, a deep purple that
highlighted his pale features and brought out the blue in his eyes. The
diamontes sparkled in the spotlights, setting off the silver of his hair. It
was classic and conservative in comparison to others he had worn; but it still
tightly hugged his limbs and brought attention to the play of his muscles
beneath the material.
The music started and Viktor's body flowed like shimmery liquid through the
movements. The initial roar of the spectators settled to an awed hush. His
movements appearing as if effortless and graceful, the audience caught up in
the otherworldly performance. Even the commentators were muted, only commenting
to call out his step sequences and positions; they were stunned into silence,
jarred from their usual running commentary of performances… and Viktor hadn’t
even jumped yet.
A subtle shift in the music captured the audience, had them leaning forward to
see more of his performance, and it was then that he started his jump
sequences. Each one was perfectly executed to a smattering of applause;
everyone too enraptured, too afraid to break the spell he was weaving over
them. With a crescendo of music and a final jump, his performance was complete.
A moment of stunned silence before the eruption of applause and cheering
thundered through the stadium, that continued long after Viktor had left the
ice.
He sat with Yakov at the Kiss and Cry, that small smile playing around his
lips, which became heart shaped for the cameras and reporters, ducking his head
so that his bangs hid the small blush that stained his cheeks, for all the
world looking like a humble champion, shocked at his own performance and
comeback. However, as far as Lucifer was concerned, nothing could be further
from the truth; the whole thing a shameless act for the benefit of the audience
and the cameras, Yakov fielding questions from reporters as they waited for the
scores.
He’d placed first. Broken the world record that Yuri Plisetsky had broken
earlier - not by a narrow margin either- he hadn’t even resorted to any fancy
“tricks.” Just executed a flawless performance.
“See Yasha, I told you that everything would be fine.” The smirk on Viktor’s
face looked slightly out of place. It was not an expression that Yakov had ever
seen before… sure Viktor had smirked and looked smug, but there was always a
crinkling around his eyes that shone with mirth. Now his eyes looked cold and
flat, that predatory look that seemed to have overtaken him. Lucifer caught
Yakov studying him and gave him the brilliant smile that Viktor was famous for,
just as they read out his score.
124.35
The crowd erupted with cheers once more. Yuri Plisetsky’s world record had been
thoroughly broken. Even Yakov’s usually stoic face and cracked under the weight
of that score. “Vitya!” he breathed, obviously as shocked as the rest of the
world would be right now. Lucifer just smiled and shrugged, a finger poised
over his lips as he gave the old man a wink that said I told you so.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
There was a pounding on the door of the hotel room, insistent and demanding.
“Viktor! Open this door right now!”
Lucifer gave a small sigh, unfolding himself from his position on the couch. He
thought that something like this would eventually happen, he just didn’t think
it would be so soon.
“Viktor! I know you’re in there!” The pounding became louder, a touch of
desperation with each thump.
It appeared that he’d broken Yuri with his performance, and now the Ice Tiger
was thumping on his door, demanding an audience with him. Lucifer smiled
rapaciously and licked his lips. He schooled Viktor’s face into one of boredom
and opened the door.
“Yura! What a pleasant surprise! Fancy seeing you here in the hotel!” Sarcasm
dripped from every word.
“Fuck you old man!” Yuri pushed the door open further, storming inside the
room, before whirling around to face Viktor, his eyes glittering with emotion,
his finger in the air, stabbing into the space between the two of them. “Don’t
think that you’re going to win tomorrow!  I don’t care if your Short Program
score was a fucking world record, I don’t fucking care! I WILL beat you
tomorrow!” Yuri’s chest was heaving from the effort of spitting out the words.
“You will fall into a fucking hole and DIE, you’ll fuck up your jumps, fail the
landings, your fucking hair will FALL OUT!”
Lucifer chuckled. “My hair will fall out?”
He slowly advanced towards the small Russian skater, backing him across the
room while he stuttered insults and worked himself up. Yuri’s eyes widened
slightly and he stopped mid-tirade as the back of his legs found the edge of
the bed, sitting down heavily on the mattress. He looked up at Viktor as the
older man closed the distance, effectively pinning him to the bed with his
body, a knee between his thighs and a hand in the middle of his chest as he
leaned over him.
“Viktor…” Yuri struggled slightly, trying to push Viktor’s hand off him, the
old man seemed to be stronger than what he gave him credit for, and the hand in
the middle of his chest felt like it was going to burn through his clothes and
into his skin… “Viktor, your hand is fucking… burning!”
He looked up into eyes so blue that they seemed to glow… had his eyes always
been that blue? Yuri swallowed, his insults forgotten as he felt himself
falling into those eyes.
Lucifer licked his lips, hungrily,shifting his knee so that it rubbed up
against the inside of Yuri’s thigh.
“Yura,did anyone tell you that your eyes turn green when you’re angry?” His
voice was low, gravelly, and laden with promise.
Yuri blinked, his mouth opening slightly to protest. The warmth from Viktor’s
hand on his chest seemed to spread through his body, making him feel heavy; the
contact on the inside of his thigh burned hotter in contrast. He went to shift
his body away from the touch, but ended up sliding his thigh closer to
Viktor’s, subconsciously seeking more. Whatever words that he wanted to say
died on his lips before he could have a chance to utter them; Viktor’s hand had
slid underneath the hem of his shirt, fingers lightly playing across the smooth
skin of his stomach.
“Vitya?” his voice was small, the name barely above a whisper.
“Hmmmmm? Yurochka?”Lucifer continued to stroke Yuri’s skin, almost like he was
patting a cat. Fingers imperceptibly creeping higher under the shirt.
Yuri felt confused. Sure Viktor had indulged in light touches before, but
nothing like this.He could feel the heat in his body beginning to pool in the
pit of his stomach, just under where Viktor’s fingers were moving against his
skin, new and slightly unfamiliar. Those blue eyes just stared down at him,
watching him, like they were waiting for something. The look in those eyes just
made the heat pool faster: an answering tug in his groin. He squeezed his eyes
tightly shut against the shock of his arousal, one hand wrapping around
Viktor’s forearm, the other pushing against the older man’s chest.
“Vitya!”The word came out as a whimper as he arched his back off the bed, his
hips sliding forward until Viktor’s knee was squarely between them.
Lucifer purred, low and throaty. “So bold Yurochka, did you wantsomething?”
He leaned forward, running his nose up the side Yuri’s neck, breathing the
fresh scent of skin…
A banging at the door. “Viktor!”
Lucifer’s breath hissed between his teeth as the banging continued.
The interruption was enough to galvanise Yuri into action; shoving Viktor
aside, he scrambled off the bed. Making a beeline for the door, he flung it
open in his haste, startling Georgi mid-knock.
“Ah, Yura, I didn’t know that you were here too…”
“Fuck off, you emo shit!” Yuri snarled as he pushed past and stormed down the
hallway, leaving Georgi looking slightly bewildered.
“Uh… was he just… um… hard?” Georgi looked between Yuri’s disappearing figure
and Viktor who had now appeared in the open doorway.
Lucifer gave a nonchalant shrug as he leaned on the doorframe.“Rage Boner. He
barged in here, gave me a lecture about how I was old, bald and a loser, and
how he was going to win the free skate and thus the gold medal…” he gave a
smirk. “...and I told him how unlikely that would be.”  
Georgi nodded slowly. “I was just coming past to… say congratulations… that was
a rather impressive short program…” He gave Viktor a weak smile. “... and to
let you know that Yakov wants to make sure that you’re well rested for
tomorrow.”
It was a bit of a lame finish, but Georgi was beginning to feel flustered under
Viktor’s scrutiny. He couldn’t remember the last time Viktor had such an
intense look on his face.
Lucifer reached out and patted Georgi on the shoulder as he pushed himself off
the door frame, “You can tell Yasha that I will be extremely well rested for
tomorrow, and to not worry. My free skate will be just as good as my short
program… maybe even a little better.” He gave Georgi a wink. “Was there
anything else that you wanted, Gosha?”
Georgi’s widened. Viktor hadn’t called him that since they were children. “Uh,
um, n-no? I don’t think so?”
He dipped his head in farewell and hurried back down the hallway to where his
own room was. His cheeks were flushed and he felt a little bewildered. Viktor
didn’t usually have that sort of effect on him… maybe it was just that he’d
been away for so long, and that he’d skated so perfectly and… and… he was
mortified to find that he’d gotten hard.
Back in his room, Yuri had thrown himself onto the bed in disgust, curling
himself around one of the pillows as he hugged it. He felt bone-weary, more
tired than what he should have been after a competition. The confusing feelings
that he had felt earlier were fading, leading him to question whether he’d felt
them at all… it was Viktor after all, it’s not like he had those sorts of
feelings for him… what feelings again? There were no feelings… Viktor was just
a shitty old man, with shitty thinning hair and a shitty skating routine… he
yawned into the pillow. Tomorrow during the free skate, he’d show the old man
who the better skater was…
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
The placings couldn’t have been better. Yuri was in second, Georgi was in
third, and Viktor had yet to skate, but Yakov assumed that he would come first.
He couldn’t have been prouder of his skaters, to have the top three at the
Nationals, all under his coaching; it boosted his prestige phenomenally,
especially with records being broken. The shame of having Viktor run off to
Japan was most definitely erased with these results. Yakov didn’t even try to
hide the grin and triumphant look on his face.
Out on the ice, the silence of the stadium was nearly oppressive, collective
breaths held in anticipation. Lucifer smirked. They were already surprised at
his costume; nobody had guessed that he was wearing such a thing under his Team
Russia jacket, surprised that he’d even managed to hide the coattails that had
unfolded when he’d removed it. The rest of this costume was fine, nothing out
of the ordinary; the tight fitting black pants, the spiral of sequins
accentuating the curve and muscle of his thighs and calves, tapering down into
his skates making them look like it was one piece… but his waistcoat was
another story.
Blood red, open at the front to reveal a crisp white shirt that seemed sinfully
tight, but still tastefully form-fitting, and held together by thin gold
chains. The embroidery seemed to shimmer under the spotlights, drawing the eye
to the intricate patterns. The coat tails hung down, brushing the backs of his
thighs, swaying gently with his movements. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal
his forearms; there was always something sexy about that look; he hadn’t missed
the hungry stares of the audience. He brushed his silver bangs away from his
face, tilting his chin just so… he could feel the hum of sexual tension in the
air.
The music started, the slightly off-key piano cut through the air and the first
throb of bass reverberated across the stadium making the seats vibrate, and
Lucifer began to move.
 
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
Each move was subtle, calculated. The jut of his hips, the tilt of his chin,
the lips parted just so and the burning sultry look in his eyes. He made eye
contact with each and every member of the audience. No matter that it was brief
and fleeting, it was enough. Every shift in his body laden with sexual
promises.
 
                     You got me looking, so crazy my baby
              I'm not myself lately I'm foolish, I don't do this
                  I've been playing myself, baby I don't care
                      Baby your love's got the best of me
                        Your love's got the best of me
                      Baby your love's got the best of me
                        Baby you're making a fool of me
                  You got me sprung and I don't care who sees
         Cause baby you got me, you got me, oh you got me, you got me
He’d come to them in their dreams and move for them, move with them; he’d drown
them in pleasure unlike anything they’d felt before. Every movement that his
body made was like a siren’s call.
 
                     I look and stare so deep in your eyes
                    I touch on you more and more every time
                   When you leave I'm begging you not to go
                  Call your name two or three times in a row
                  Such a funny thing for me to try to explain
               How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame
                         And I still don't understand
               Just how your love could do what no one else can
 
Instead of gasps and cheers, they breathed and moaned. He made them ache with
unfulfilled need.


                       Got me looking so crazy right now
                 Your love's got me looking so crazy right now
                       Got me looking so crazy right now
           Your touch got me looking so crazy right now (your love)
                        Hoping you'll save me right now
         Your kiss got me hoping you'll save me right now (your love)
                           Looking so crazy in love
                Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love
 
As the music reached its crescendo, so did his routine, the spins tighter, the
look he gave the audience one of sexual desperation; his hands reaching out to
them, begging them.
 

                       Got me looking so crazy right now
                 Your love's got me looking so crazy right now
                      Got me looking so crazy right now
                 Your touch got me looking so crazy right now 
                    Got me hoping you'll save me right now
         Your kiss got me hoping you'll save me right now (your love)
                           Looking so crazy in love
                Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love
 
The throb of the music slowed, his face flushed, his hair disheveled, his chest
heaving… looking for all the world like he’d been freshly fucked on the ice,
and that they had done that to him...


                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
                         Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no
As the music faded, his movements slowed, but still carried that sultry
promise, but this time, unspoken: Can we do that again?
 
There would have been applause if the audience weren’t sitting there in shock;
not so much the shock of having witnessed a masterful performance, but more the
shock of finding themselves in various states of arousal. Some openly rubbing
themselves, others already peaked and just sitting there in a daze…
Lucifer slowly skated off the ice, a triumphant grin on his face. The scores
wouldn’t even matter at this point; that is, if the judges could pull
themselves together long enough to give him one.
At the kiss and cry, Lucifer draped his arm around Yakov, giving that weathered
face a kiss on the cheek. “So how did that make you feel, Yasha? Three out of
three, no?”
Yakov just grunted in reply, his cheeks tinged with a dusky pink. Lucifer
leaned close, dropped his voice into a seductive whisper and placed his hand on
Yakov’s knee. “Though i’m surprised an old man like you can still get it up…”
He chuckled as Yakov angrily slapped his hand away, his face turning redder as
he subtly rearranged a bouquet of flowers over his lap.
The score wasn’t a world record, but it was enough to place him in first. It
was agreed that his routine was technically perfect, and his artistry was very…
suggestive… but the judges could definitely agree that Viktor Nikiforov had
made quite the comeback.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
“So what did you think of that Vitya?” Lucifer chuckled as he strode into an
ornate looking room, complete with velvet curtains and plush cushioned seats. “
I like what you’ve done with the place, very classy…”he said with a wink.
Viktor was seated in an overstuffed armchair, one leg crossed over the other,
his face a mask of tightly controlled fury. He didn’t quite understand where he
was, only that it was somewhere inside his own head, trapped as he was whilst
Lucifer controlled his body. “What did you do to them?”
“Do to whom Vitya? The people out there? I didn’t do ‘anything’ to them at all,
just woke up what was already sleeping is all.” Lucifer made a show of looking
at his nails with a bored expression. “ Free will, that’s what it’s all about.
I can’t force anybody into doing something that they don’t want to do. But what
I can do is plant the suggestion of something different into their heads, and
let them decide if they much rather do that instead.”
Viktor folded his arms across his chest. “What about me? I’m not in here of my
own “‘free will!’” You trapped me in here!”
“Ah, Vitya, did you not say, all those years ago, that you would do anything to
win?”Lucifer chuckled.
“I was twelve. I didn’t know any better! You tricked me!” Viktor had unfolded
his arms and was now gripping the armrests of the seat.
“Not. My. Problem.”
Each word was enunciated perfectly.
Viktor growled in frustration a moment before he pushed himself out of his
seat, reaching for Lucifer ready to throttle him… and passed straight through
him.
“Really, Vitya?” Lucifer tutted at him. “ Why don’t you just sit tight and
enjoy the show, and when I’m done, you can have your body back to enjoy what is
left of the world when I’ve finished with it. How does that sound?”
Lucifer just smiled, his grin all teeth and promises as he faded, leaving that
smile behind, much like the cheshire cat.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri could only determine that the usual dinner “meet and greet” after the
competition had been… somewhat bizarre. Yakov had most certainly been pleased
with himself, the old man had been indulging in way too much champagne, but
Yuri supposed that given that he’d made a clean sweep of the Nationals, that a
bit of excess was warranted… but that didn’t explain everybody else’s
behaviour.
He’d tried avoiding Viktor for most of the evening. It seemed that every single
person that went to talk to him came away with a glazed look on their face.
Nothing about Viktor seemed to be out of the ordinary, he still had that stupid
heart-shaped grin on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with all the praise and
attention… Yuri paused his thoughts for a moment… Viktor's eyes had most
definitely been glowing ; a trick of the fluorescent lights perhaps? But they
had most definitely been rather… intense.
As the evening progressed, he’d begun to notice a change in the air… the usual
groups that formed during these dinners seemed to be a lot smaller . Groups of
six and seven seemed to have shrunk down to pairs and groups of three… the
banquet table seemed devoid of people, but the darkened corners of the room had
suddenly become very… busy.Yuri snorted in disgust, but could shake the feeling
of unease that had settled over him. He’d mostly avoided the attention of the
others in the room; his curt answers and abrasive attitude were generally
enough to scare all but the most enthusiastic of supporters; instead he’d been
dodging unwanted advances, overly-familiar touches - he’d resorted to hiding
behind a pot-plant at one point… the same one he was hiding behind now.
Peeking through the plastic leaves, he searched the room for a familiar face.
Viktor was nowhere to be seen, Yakov and Georgi weren’t at the table… Yuri
rubbed his face anxiously. The tension in the room was starting to get to him,
the air itself even felt thick and heavy… were those moans that he heard?
His brain seemed to catch up to the situation that he’d unwittingly discovered
he was in. Everyone in the banquet room was fucking.
“Shitshitshitshitshitshit!” He scrambled out from behind his plant cover and
made a beeline for the door. He couldn’t be in the room any longer now that
he’d finally realised what was going on. Sure, as elite athletes, some of them
had to put their more base desires on hold for the sake of competition;
everyone knew that after a big event that people would be letting off a little
steam.. But fucking hell, could they at least have gone back to their rooms
before fucking like rabbits?
A particularly loud moan startled him as he reached for the door. A look of
horror crossed his face as he witnessed the source.
Yakov had Georgi bent over, face pressed into the floor. His usual gruff
features a rictus of pleasure, his cheeks stained with colour as he… as he… and
Georgi was no better! At least Yuri was used to seeing those sorts of
expressions on his face the man dedicated his routines to whatever girlfriend
he had at the time… but Yakov was an old man! Surely his heart would give out
if he continued…
Yuri flung open the door and made his escape, not willing to find out if Yakov
was going to survive his experience or not.
The sounds of moans and wet contact followed him down the hallway. He could
feel the tension seeping under his own skin, making him feel slightly feverish,
like he had an itch that he couldn’t quite scratch. What was happening to him…
to everyone? Did someone spike the drinks? Was this some… sick government plot?
He really couldn’t think of any other explanation for the fact that everyone
around him and degenerated into some weird rutting mess.
In his effort to dodge the random couples that had seemingly chosen to engage
themselves in front of him, he’d discovered that the room he was in front of
was not his own, but Viktor’s… was Viktor even in his room or was he out
somewhere, caught in this weird mess? Yuri snorted at the thought, it would be
very unlikely that Viktor would be an unwilling participant…
He knocked on the door, just in case.
“Viktor! Are you in there?” He knocked again, harder, straining to hear if
there was any movement inside the room. He looked around furtively; he really
wanted to avoid being caught up in whatever had taken over the people in the
banquet hall.  Even this far away, the air felt like a sentient being, curling
itself like a snake, that sibilant hiss caressing his skin…
Yuri gave a small cry of dismay as he could feel his skin prickling in
response, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He could feel his
heart start to race in apprehension. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that
someone else had entered the hallway. Normally he would be feeling relieved,
but everything about this situation set his nerves on edge.
“Yuuuuriiii!” His name a jumble of slurred vowels. “Why did you ruuun away from
the haaaaaall?” The man staggered and lurched towards him.
Yuri bit back a growl, trying to put on a calm face. “I was tired, so I wanted
to have a bit of an early night… except I seem to have misplaced my hotel key,
but my roommate should be inside, so he’ll open the door soon...” his voice
trailed off as the stranger was now close… too close.
The man reached out a hand, and suddenly Yuri found himself pinned to the door,
the man pawing at his crotch and nuzzling his neck with sloppy kisses that
reeked of champagne.
“What the fuck?! Get off me you slimy sack of shit!” Yuri struggled to push his
assailant away, but didn’t get very far. The man was very drunk, and very
strong… strong enough to have him turned around, and shoved back against the
door, his cheek pressed hard against the intricate panel work. Fear made the
bile rise in his throat and he struggled harder, kicking the door, the heavy
thumps echoing down the hallway.
“Viktor, I swear to god, open this fucking door!” Yuri could feel that he was
close to tears; the hot sting and prickling behind his eyes. The man seemed to
have begun pulling down his trousers, the cool air of the hotel swirling across
the warm flesh of his hips.
Blunt fingers with sharp nail edges dug painfully into his skin, pushing up
against places that they had no business being anywhere near. “Oh, is that who
you’re sharing a room with? Viktor Niki-ki-korov-ov?” the man slurred thickly
through Viktor’s name.
“Viiiiiiktooooooor!” His voice was a high pitched whine, pleading for the man
to come and save him. Was he even in his room? Yuri began to panic; that he’d
made a mistake in assuming that Viktor was there, and now he was trapped in the
hallway of the hotel with some creepy sponsor who was under the influence of
whatever was going on, and that he was going to… going to…
He yelped as he felt one of those fingers pierce him. “Nonononono!!! VIKTOR!!!”
The door opened.
They both of them fell to the floor in tangle of trousers and limbs, Yuri’s
head turned enough to see Viktor firmly plant his foot in his assailant's face
and just… push him out of the way, like it was no effort at all to send the man
reeling and tumbling back into the hallway in a flurry of splutters and curses.
Yuri did not miss the haughty expression that crossed Viktor’s face, like the
man under that gaze was nothing but pond scum, the lowest life form imaginable.
It made him shiver.
The expression on Viktor's face changed to one of concern as he looked at
Yuri’s huddled form and crouched down in front of him. “Yurochka!Are you ok?”
His tone was soft and gentle, those blue eyes made him feel as if the world
around him had shrunk down to a single turquoise point.  
Yuri flung himself into Viktor’s chest, the tears coming thick and fast.
“Viktor, you arsehole! You shithead! You cunt! Why couldn’t you have opened the
door sooner!?” The small, blond teenager clung desperately to the front of
Viktor’s shirt, all the feelings that he’d been trying to keep hidden and at
bay rose to the surface in a great rush, leaving him shaking and crying.
Lucifer wrapped his arms around Yuri’s diminutive figure as he sobbed into his
chest. Hoisting the teenager up into his arms, he let a possessive smile cross
his features as he slowly, deliberately closed the door, his eyes smirking
knowingly at the stranger in the hallway, while he cooed soothingly amidst the
hiccups and sniffles.
It closed with a soft click.
Lucifer carried Yuri to the large bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the
edge of the mattress with Yuri straddling his lap, still clinging, his fists
clenched into the fabric of his shirt and his head buried into the crook of
Lucifer’s neck as he let out little whines and sobs. Lucifer rubbed slow
circles over Yuri’s back, the other hand cradling the narrow hips.
“It huuuurts, Vitya, it really huuuuurts,” Yuri hiccuped. Viktor’s skin felt
warm under his cheek, and a comforting scent of cloves and spices wafted around
him; since when did Viktor smell like Christmas wine? It made him feel somewhat
relaxed... soft, like he would feel after a particularly long hot bath.
“Hush, Yurochka , kotyonok.” Viktor purred, “Tell me what happened from the
beginning…”
Lucifer kept slowly stroking the troubled teen as he poured out his fears,
tears beginning anew as he relived the events of the night. Fingers lightly
dancing across the pale skin, he made soothing coos and purring rumbles as he
imperceptibly began to rock them both; slowly swaying to silent music in the
background.
“Did that man outside hurt you, kotyonok?”
Yuri nodded into Viktor’s warmth. His tears had subsided and the gentle rocking
was soothing, lulling him into a fuzzy state. His limbs felt heavy, and he was
starting to feel slightly feverish. Maybe the man in the hallway had some sort
of… stuff on his fingers, like some awful drug…
“His fingers… he… my arse hurts…” Yuri’s voice was small, embarrassed that he
had to bring something like that to Viktor’s attention, but he was now
painfully aware of the insistent throbbing from between his legs.
“Awww, Yurochka , you poor, kotyonok, will you let me have a look? To see if
it’s okay? I think I have some ointment that might help take the pain away.”
Lucifer feathered a kiss over Yuri’s forehead.
Yuri let out a breathy sigh, nuzzling further into the skin of Viktor’s neck.
Just something about the smell made him feel… nice. A hand threaded its way
through the hair at the back of his head and applied gentle pressure,
encouraging him to lean away until he was able to look Viktor in the eye, those
impossibly blue eyes. As Viktor’s hand moved to cup his cheek, Yuri’s gazed
shifted lower, resting on Viktors bottom lip. It looked plump and inviting. It
glistened like a ripe cherry, one that he could almost taste. His eyelids
fluttered and his lips parted slightly as he leaned forward… he just wanted a
taste…
Viktor’s lips were soft, and warm, and tasted of cloves and honey; of cinnamon
and spice.
“Yuu-rooch-ka,” Lucifer mouthed against Yuri’s lips. His voice was low and it
rumbled through Yuri’s body, causing a soft moan to escape from the teen. With
a growl Lucifer claimed Yuri’s lips, his tongue gently tasting.
Yuri’s own tongue tentatively reached out. He wanted to taste more of the spice
that made his head feel fuzzy and his heart race like it was doing right now.
Lucifer pulled back, a sultry smile tugging at his lips.“Yurochka, shouldn’t we
have a look to see what that bad man did?” His voice was low, soft with
concern.
Yuri blinked a few times before focusing once more on Viktor’s bottom lip. He
sucked on his own, subconsciously seeking out more of that taste that was
Viktor’s kiss.
“Please?”
Yuri shivered slightly; the less he was breathing in Viktor, the more he felt
the painful throb where the man had roughly shoved his finger. He leaned
forward, wanting to keep tasting those lips and breathing in the scent of
Viktor’s warm skin.
Lucifer indulged him another kiss, one that started the slow burn of heat in
the pit of Yuri’s stomach as their tongues brushed against each other, and
Lucifer’s hands began a slow, deliberate kneading of the flesh of Yuri’s arse.
Breaking the kiss left Yuri breathing heavily, Lucifer’s chuckle sending
shivers down his spine as he nuzzled Yuri’s ear, whispering, “You ready for me
to have a look, kotyonok?”
Lucifer leaned over, Yuri spilling from his lap and onto the soft mattress of
the hotel bed.
Firm but gentle hands arranged Yuri onto his stomach, their touch felt warm,
filling his body with a slow heat that made him feel relaxed and fuzzy. The
fine hair at the nape of his neck prickled lightly as those warm hands slid
under his body, lifting him like he weighed nothing, and placing a pillow
beneath his hips. He could feel Viktor’s weight bowing the mattress around them
as he moved, the seemingly random touches of his thighs brushing between his
legs, his big warm hand stroking the small of his back, was all strangely
comforting. He settled into the mattress, hugging a fluffy hotel pillow to his
chest and face as Viktor applied gentle pressure, encouraging him to arch his
back more.
Lucifer slid his thumbs into the waistband of Yuri’s trousers and shimmied them
further down his hips, exposing the pale flesh and toned muscle of the teen’s
arse. He smiled hungrily to himself, licking his lips. There was something to
be said about athletic bodies, they were definitely delicious. He palmed the
twin globes, gently rolling them under his hands, each slow circle pulling them
further apart to expose the hidden pinkness between them.
He clicked his tongue. Yuri’s bud was a  little red and swollen, obviously
irritated by the stranger’s attempt. His fingernails must have been jagged and
unkempt. He ran his finger gently over it, enjoying how it twitched in
response. The teen moaned softly, clutching the pillow tighter to himself,
drawing it further under his chin, his back bowing beautifully as he arched,
his bottom rising higher.
“Is it sore, kotyonok? Would you like me to make it feel better?”
Yuri nodded his head, rubbing his face against the pillow which felt cool and
smooth against the flushed skin of his cheek.
Lucifer spread Yuri out further, exposing him more. He blew a soft puff of air
across the twitching hole, watching as the skin shuddered and contracted,
before giving the pink flesh an experimental flick with the tip of his tongue.
Yuri let out a breathy moan and pushed his arse higher into the air.
Lucifer let out a throaty chuckle as he accepted the invitation, firmly
gripping Yuri by the hips as he bent his head, covering the puckered bud with a
broad swipe of his tongue, enjoying the way the flexible teenager writhed and
pushed up against him as he did so. Something about actually having flesh made
the experience that much sweeter.
Yuri was slowly losing himself to the sensation of the hot wet tongue that
licked and explored. He could feel his erection grow until the skin felt tight
and uncomfortable. He reached between his legs, looking to ease some of the
pressure, but Viktor just grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the small of his
back and making him arch even further, his name falling from his lips in a
drawn out whine.
“Viiiiktoooor...” he panted.
“Hush, kotyonok , I’ll make it feel really good soon…” Lucifer tested the tight
ring of flesh with a finger, grinning as it parted easily under the pressure he
applied, and he watched it slowly sink in up to the second knuckle as Yuri
whimpered. He worked his finger in and out as he teased with his tongue, and
soon there was little resistance. He added a second finger to the mix. “Such a
good little kitten you are, Yurochka,soon it will feel even better…”
Yuri was letting out little breathy moans with each thrust of Viktors fingers,
his body beginning to undulate. He’d push back a little each time those fingers
entered him, subconsciously guiding them in further. It just felt really good,
like hot and cold at the same time, the heat building in the pit of his stomach
was directly stoked by those fingers, tendrils tugging at his groin, making his
cock feel heavy. He pushed back further at the next thrust, whimpering as the
fingers inside him brushed up against something that sent a jolt of fire
straight through him.
Lucifer hadn’t missed the involuntary shudder. “Is it here?” he cooed, as his
fingers delved deeper, searching until he found what he was looking for and
rubbed it, his finger teasing it with small strokes.
Yuri let out a high-pitched wail as his muscles contracted, shoving his arse
hard against the fingers inside him, grinding as he tried to draw out the
sensation. His climax made him feel light headed, and he could feel himself
pulse around the fingers that had momentarily stilled. He buried his face into
the pillow to hide the shame of having enjoyed such a thing.
He could feel the mattress shift underneath him as Viktor moved, heard the snap
of a button being unfastened and the slow glide of a zipper being lowered.
Yuri’s head shot up as he felt the heat emanating from engorged flesh, a moment
before it made contact as Viktor slid his cock between the cheeks of his arse.
He sucked his breath through his teeth. Did the air seem thicker? The smell of
cloves and spices stronger?
Ah, Yurochka, did you enjoy that? Did that make you feel good? Did you want to
feel more?
Even Viktor’s voice sounded different.
The hands on his arse cheeks felt like they would slowly burn through his
flesh, a deep penetrating heat that slowly began to creep through his body,
soaking into his limbs, making him feel weak and heavy. His head dropped back
onto the pillow, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused as those hands gently
rocked his hips, allowing Viktor’s cock to begin sliding between them. He heard
a click of a bottle lid being opened, the contrasting coolness of viscous
liquid dripping onto his feverish skin, and then the slide became smoother,
more… sensual.
Such a good kotyonok. Do you like it when I pet you like this?
Yuri’s eyes drooped closed as he felt heat pool in his groin once more, his own
cock stirring in response.
Lucifer pulled back slightly, lining the head of his cock up, pushing it gently
against the ring of flesh that was pink and glistening from his earlier
attention. Two fingers may not have been enough to loosen it, but perhaps that
didn’t really matter… his groan of satisfaction was nearly drowned out by the
cry from underneath him as the head of his cock popped through. His thumbs
pulled apart the flesh of Yuri’s opening, allowing him to slide in further,
until, despite the mewling and writhing from beneath him, his hips rested flush
against the firm globes of flesh.
Yuri squeezed his eyes shut against the hot tears that prickled and leaked from
the corners. “Th-that fucking hurt…” he whimpered as he felt his body adjusting
to the thickness and heat of Viktor’s intrusion.
Hush, Yurochka, you’ll enjoy this part even more....
Lucifer casually drew back, watching how Yuri gripped onto his shaft, until he
slid completely out, a momentary gape before the muscle closed again. Lucifer
growled appreciatively, the rumble sounding deep and predatory. He pushed his
cock up against the puckering bud once more, a guttural moan escaping from his
lips as he slid inside, relishing the feel of the hot wet embrace for a moment,
before beginning an onslaught of slow deliberate thrusts, punctuated by the
occasional slap of flesh against flesh.
He’d forgotten how good it felt to fuck.
Yuri’s whimpers of pain were soon replaced by small moans. He started to meet
Viktor’s thrusts, his hands gripping the bed sheets in front of him as raised
his arse higher, allowing for more of Viktor’s length to fill him. Every
panting breath he took fanned the flames he felt, the head of Viktor’s cock
scraping deep inside him, making his muscles clench and his innards tingle.
“Vitya, ah, Vityaaaa!” Yuri cried out as his second climax caught him by
surprise, his muscles spasming hard.
With a sharp thrust, Lucifer buried himself as deep as he could, feeling his
own muscles contract and shudder as he filled Yuri’s tight arse with his seed.
Taaake it, Yuroochkaa, TAKE IT!
He made a few more thrusts, before pulling out, licking his lips at the sight
of his seed dribbling from the boy’s raw hole. He scooped a bit up, and rubbed
it over the abused bud.
“See, kotyonok, doesn’t it feel better now?” he chuckled as he wiped the head
of his cock off against Yuri’s arse.
The young Russian skater felt his legs give out, sliding along the cool sheets
until he was lying flat. He could feel the wet stains of his release underneath
him, but he was too wrung out to move. He could feel the bed moving as Viktor
eased himself off, heard the pad of footsteps, the running of the tap in the
bathroom, and the subsequent slap of a wet washcloth against his face.
“Clean yourself up. You can stay here for the night. It will probably be safer
for you if you do.”
Yuri rolled over and sat up, taking the washcloth and slowly wiped himself
down. Humiliation burned his cheeks. Couldn’t Viktor have been… nicer?
Lucifer cupped the boy’s chin, “Freshly fucked is a look that suits you
Yurochka,perhaps we should try it more often. Lust makes your eyes smoulder
that gorgeous shade of green…” his voice trailed off as he thumbed Yuri’s lower
lip, pushing it past his teeth and coaxing his mouth open as he bent forward to
kiss him. He smiled against those lips as he felt the arms circle around his
neck, the washcloth dropping to the floor forgotten.
He pushed the skater back onto the bed, raising his flexible legs so that they
wrapped around his hips, and settled him so that his renewed erection brushed
against downy fuzz of Yuri’s balls.
Viktors intense hungry look made Yuri’s stomach flutter.
“We can do this all night, kotyonok.”
***** Chapter Four *****
Chapter Summary
     Viktor wants to be happy that Yuuri is coming to visit him in Russia,
     but possessed and helpless, it's nothing short of a nightmare.
Lucifer looked at the flashing light on Viktor’s phone. According to the
reminders, Yuuri Katsuki was arriving from Japan some time today. He thought
that he probably should make an effort to go and get him, but he was just…
busy.  Planning the end of the world took a degree of effort. He only had a few
weeks to get ready for the European Championships that were being held in
Slovakia, and to set other parts of his plan into motion. He couldn’t do it all
on his own, he was going to need assistance from some of the others.
For this, in particular, he was going to need Asmodeus.
Depending on which text a person followed, Asmodeus was the demon of many
things; but in this instance, in this time and place, Asmodeus was the
embodiment of Lust. He was supposedly responsible for twisting the sexual
desires of people. But, as in all things of this nature, he was never  directly
responsible. He just  encouraged  the desires that were already there.
The flashing notification light gave him all sorts of ideas.
Lucifer smiled.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Well! That was certainly a  satisfying  night.
Lucifer had draped himself over one of the oversized chairs, for all the world
looking like a very satisfied cat.
Viktor was standing there with his arms folded, his cheeks beginning to flush
with anger.
“I can’t believe you did that! I can’t believe that you used  my  body and went
off and had sex with a  minor! ”
Relaaaaaax, he’s sixteen, it’s the legal age of consent. If he even remembers
what happened, the worst you’ll get done for is carnal knowledge… you big stud
you!
Lucifer held up a finger as a phone appeared in his hand.  I’d love to continue
reminiscing about your sexcapades, but I need to take this call…
Viktor stamped his foot in frustration. There apparently was no reasoning with
the Devil. He sat down heavily in the other chair in the room and waited.
Asmo, you don’t have to ring me, you can just come on in if that makes it
easier…  Lucifer put his hand over the phone and looked at Viktor,  Just going
to have a friend pop in, that’s ok isn’t it?  He said with a wink.
“Wait? What?!”  Viktor hadn’t even had a chance to protest before the air in
front of him shimmered and another form appeared.
~ Lucifer, darling, this had better be worth it. Why couldn’t you just send a
servant with a message?
The dulcet tones made Viktor’s mouth go dry. He felt light headed as all the
blood rushed to another part of his body. He gripped the arms of the chair hard
as a strangled moan escaped from his lips. The pressure in the room was
incredible and it seemed that every ounce of it was channelled straight into
his groin.
Asmo, stop it. You’ll break my vessel at this stage, and I kind of need him.
Lucifer slid out of the chair and approached Viktor, who could only look up at
him through half lidded eyes as he began to pant, sweat beginning to bead on
his face. Lucifer slid a knee between Viktor’s legs, exposing the straining
bulge between.
Oh look at this! I would be jealous, Viktor, except I should introduce you.
This is Asmodeous, the demonic embodiment of lust. I can see that they’ve had
an effect on you already…  he looked over his shoulder at the new arrival.  You
might need to tone it down a notch, there will be plenty of time to let loose
later.
Viktor slumped forward as he felt the pressure subside, the throbbing ache
dissipating. “My head isn’t some sort of holiday home…” he said through gritted
teeth. “Why can’t you just leave?”
Lucifer cupped Viktor’s chin, forcing him to look up at a face that looked very
much like his own. Viktor tried to jerk his head away but the grip was vice-
like.  
We will, just for a moment. The strain of having two entities inside you will
end up breaking you, and I haven’t finished with you yet. While we’re gone,
just… do your own thing for a bit. Hmmm?
The blue eyes that looked down on him seemed to glow bright for a moment…
He blinked.
The room was dark. The bed soft underneath him. He could hear the sound of
someone breathing next to him. The room smelled faintly of cloves and spices…
and something else. He worked his tongue around his mouth trying to get some
saliva happening so that he could swallow. It tasted faintly metallic.
The effort it took to roll over seemed monumental. His eyes adjusted to the
dimness of the room, the light from the various appliances, and from the
hallway from under the door, all helped until he could make out the shapes in
the gloom. The spill of blond hair on the pillow next to him seemed to shine
like a beacon.
Viktor hung his head into his hands and wept.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri had woken up to find himself alone in Viktor’s room, or at least he could
tell it was Viktor’s room, his jacket was hanging over the back of one of the
chairs. His hips were aching and his muscles protesting at his movements. The
sleepy fog that clouded his mind was dissipating, his memories of the night
disappearing in a haze of half-remembered embarrassment that faded when he
couldn’t even find the reasons for why he’d feel ashamed… waking up in Viktor’s
bed couldn’t be that much of a deal for him.
Swinging himself out of the bed, his legs felt heavy, more so than after a
particularly hard skate; perhaps he’d skated harder than he’d thought. He
gritted his teeth at the notion; surely he shouldn’t have had to try  that
hard to place second. He cursed as he stumbled, making his way to the bathroom.
The harsh light made him squint when he flicked the switch, his eyes watering
as his retinas burned.
As his blurring vision cleared, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
His pale flesh was marked with red marks all over. Welts, scratches, and
bruises.
“What. The. Fuck?!”
He cursed. The fucking hotel bed was obviously infested with bedbugs. It didn’t
matter how swanky a hotel was; there was always the chance that the shitty
parasites were present. Was he having an allergic reaction to them? That would
explain the marks - getting bitten and then scratching at them in his sleep.
Some looked like they had been scratched a little too much
Muttering curses, he fiddled with the taps in the shower. The blast of hot
water soon filled the room with steam and he climbed under the spray. As far as
he was concerned, the water would never be hot enough to wash away the evidence
the blood-suckers left behind. He let the hot water beat down on him for a
moment before lathering up a washcloth. He winced slightly parts of him began
to sting, parts that had no business being sore or painful, and he couldn’t
imagine Viktor having anything to do with those parts…
His stomach growled. Loudly. He realised that he was positively  starving.
With another string of expletives, he began to scrub himself down. The sooner
that he finished cleaning himself up, the faster he could go and get breakfast.
The day after a competition he didn’t have to watch calories; he would be
loading his plate up with as much bacon as it could carry.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri was sitting in one of the hotel room chairs, towel wrapped around himself,
drumming his fingers as he tried to work out what he needed to do. He needed
another change of clothes, his own smelt awful and he couldn’t bear to be
anywhere near them. He seemed to be trying to fight off the irrational urge to
burn them. He couldn’t just walk out into the hallway in just a towel, not that
he could anyway, it seemed that his hotel room key was missing… if he’d even
had it with him.
He heard the metallic click of the hotel door unlocking and looked up to see
Viktor pushing the door open with his foot as he carried a very large tray of…
food. Yuri’s stomach took that moment to gurgle loudly and the teen realised
just how hungry he really was.
“Viktor!” he blurted, quickly getting out of the seat to help the man.
“Ah! Yura! You’re awake!” Viktor beamed at his rinkmate. “I thought that you
might be hungry. Well, I woke up and was absolutely starving, but I didn’t want
to wake you…lots of bacon, right?”
Yuri could only nod as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not
quite knowing how best to help Viktor in this instance. He settled for kicking
the clothes and towels that were on the floor out of the way, and pulling the
little hotel table out so that they could both sit at it and eat. “I’m fucking
starving! I can’t believe you went and got breakfast…”
Viktor just gave a small laugh, “I woke up hungry, and I thought that you
probably would be too… are you feeling ok?”
Yuri paused, a forkful of eggs halfway up to his mouth. “I’m fine, I woke up to
find that I was covered in fucking bed bug bites and like I could eat half a
horse.” Yuri looked at Viktor, “You look awfully concerned. They’re just bed
bug bites, we all know that most of the hotels are infested with them whether
they say are or not.” He shoved the fork in his mouth and chewed. “At least the
food isn’t shit.”
The next moments passed without conversation as the two of them gave in to the
ravenous hunger they felt, both of them ignoring the inquisitive glances of the
other.
Viktor stopped short of actually licking his plate clean, Yuri on the other
hand had no such compunction. Viktor had to chuckle at the sight. “Yuuraa,
you’re not an animal!” he admonished teasingly. Yuri just stuck his middle
finger up at him as he continued to clean his plate. With a clatter and a sigh,
it appeared that the both of them were done.
An awkward silence started to grow between them and eventually Viktor cracked,
“Yuri, are you  sure  you’re okay…?”
“Yes, I’m fucking okay! Like, why wouldn’t I be? They’re just fucking bed
bugs!” Yuri shifted in his seat angrily, and paused as a forgotten twinge from
his rear resurfaced. “Wait. What? Why are you so concerned, Viktor…” - a half
remembered flash of himself face down - “Viktor… did you  do  something to me?”
Viktor just looked at his empty plate, the guilt etched all over his face. “I
didn’t exactly do…”  His voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and looked
pleadingly across the little table. “Yura, I haven’t exactly been… myself.”
Yuri cut him off with a snort. “That’s for fucking sure! But what’s that got to
do with how and why I ended up in  your  room…?”
“Yura! Let me finish, please!” To Yuri, it looked as if Viktor might cry, and
the teen was struck by just how old and worn out the man looked. “I know I
haven’t been myself lately, especially these last few weeks… and I may have
said things, or –” he swallowed, “– done things…”
“Like what, Viktor?” The more Yuri thought about it, the more he realised that
the throbbing pain that he’d felt earlier was coming back… “Viktor… did we...?”
A look of horror crossed his face as another memory flashed into his mind, him
on his back, staring up at… “Vitya!” He snarled. “How could you!? Like, were
you drunk? Like, what the actual fuck!”
Viktor just slumped tiredly in his chair as he watched the teenager work
himself up into a rage.
“You fucked me! Like, actually stuck your dick in my arse!” Another memory
surfaced. “Oh my God Viktor, ALL FUCKING NIGHT?!” Yuri was appalled at the
thought that he was somehow complicit in what had transpired. “Did you fucking
drug me?”
“Wait? What? NO!” Viktor nearly shouted. “Yura, you have to listen, this will
sound strange. Weird. Unbelievable even…”
“Pretty unbelievable that you spent the night with your dick shoved in my arse!
Have you no shame?! What about your Japanese Piggy?!”
Yuri wasn’t prepared for the resounding slap across his face that nearly
knocked his head off his shoulders. He could taste blood.
Viktor was half out of his seat, eyes flashing with anger, his face flushed as
he breathed heavily. “Do NOT, Yuri Plisetsky, bring Yuuri into this. Will. You.
Just. Fucking. Listen.” He slowly sat back down, glaring across the table as he
did so. “I am possessed. I have been since I was twelve.”
There. He’d said it.
Yuri could only stare back in shock, his cheek red and starting to swell.
Viktor looked so serious, so… worn out, that he didn’t have a snappy retort.
The longer he spent looking at Viktor, the more his memories resurfaced. The
banquet, the stranger in the hallway… it would seem that Viktor had at least
saved him, and if he was going to spend the night having sex with someone, he
would  prefer it to be with someone he knew.
“You mean, last night was… that you were somehow responsible for… Viktor! Yakov
and Georgi were  fucking !” The words came out in a rush.
Viktor dragged a hand through his hair, pushing back the silver strands from
his face. Blue eyes looking haunted.  
“Let me start from the beginning…”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Wandering along the streets at least gave Yuri a chance to think over
everything Viktor had told him over their breakfast. It was a lot to take in.
Nobody in their right mind would believe any of it, no sane person should
believe any of it… but it explained so many things, and in hindsight had made
so much sense.
It had to be total bullshit.
He pulled his coat around him to ward off the chill he was feeling, caused by
more than just the weather. He was beginning to notice that there were fewer
people than what there should be on the streets;, considering that the Russian
Nationals had just happened, the streets should be full of tourists and
spectators.
Yakov had been silent, so had Georgi. He couldn’t get hold of Mila either. He
thumbed the screen of his phone as he walked, unsure of where to go, or what to
do at this point.
Looking up, he realised that his walk had brought him to the front of a church.
He felt slightly suspicious that he would end up in front of one of the oldest
in Yekaterinburg; he remembered his grandfather telling him about it, along
with many of the others that were in the area, but this one,  Voznesenskaya ,
was apparently special.
It was very… blue.
The hardness in his heart softened a little when he thought of his grandfather.
Yuri didn’t  feel  particularly religious, but he had always enjoyed the
stories about the saints and angels. He felt the urge to go inside; not
necessarily to pray, but his grandfather had always told him to light a candle
should he ever find himself near a church. His brain was full of conflicting
thoughts and feelings, perhaps sitting somewhere quiet would help him clear his
head.
It was deserted inside. His soft footsteps echoed through the hall. As his eyes
adjusted to dimness, he could make out the religious frescoes painted on the
ceiling. Alcoves contained paintings and murals of the saints and angels,
leading all the way to the altar. He could see a place where people had lit
candles, the light making the shadows flicker. He made his way over, the warm
light drawing him in. Was it odd that he felt a sense of peace in a place like
this?
He fished around in his pocket for his wallet, putting a few coins into the box
and selecting a candle. Using one of the candles already burning, he lit his
own, placing it in the holder, a little bit apart from the rest. He watched it
burn for a moment, eyes drawn by the dancing flame.
Making his way to the pews, he quietly sat down. All the usual belligerence he
exhibited seemed to have dissipated, leaving him pensive and thoughtful.
Clasping his hands in his lap, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Flashes of his conversation with Viktor replayed in his mind, and it occurred
to Yuri that he couldn’t remember Viktor ever looking so  old , far older than
his twenty-nine years would have him look, than what he did at that moment when
he’d told him that he’d spent more than half of his life under the influence of
the Devil.
As long as he could remember, Yuri had always looked up to Viktor. At first, as
a small boy, the man was practically the God of Skating, but after being
accepted by Yakov, and skating with him, Viktor was more of an annoying older
brother; a rival, and someone to surpass. The comparisons between the two of
them had always bothered him, and surely they had bothered Viktor, who’d just
admitted that his skating prowess was not his own… so did that mean that he,
Yuri Plisetsky, was actually the better skater?
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Despite the “help” that Viktor had no
doubt received over the years, the man worked so hard that he’d practically
bled on the ice, countless hours spent in practice… maybe Viktor had never
needed the help in first place, and it was just… what? Opportunity on the
Devil’s part? It sounded like a Faustian contract of old. Viktor would have won
eventually, still have been the best skater in the world… except that a fallen
angel just made it happen  sooner.  Viktor had sold his soul for something that
was going to happen anyway.
Yuri took a deep breath, trying to chase the thoughts away. Once Viktor had
finished telling him everything he could, Yuri could only sit there in silence,
trying to process everything.
“Does anyone else know?”  he’d asked, watching Viktor shake his head in reply.
“Who else could I have told?”  he’d asked with pleading eyes.
“ Katsuki doesn’t know?”
Viktor had looked defeated at the question.  “You don’t understand. How could I
tell him? He fills my world with such… pure light, that I thought that I was
finally free. Lucifer hadn’t visited me the entire time I was with him…”
Yuri had stood abruptly at that point, cutting Viktor off. He didn’t want to
hear the rest of it, about how in love Viktor was and how he, Yuri, couldn’t
understand… Viktor was right, he couldn’t understand half of it, refused to
believe most of it. “ I’m going for a walk.”  he’d declared,  “I need time to…
think about all of this…”
So here he was. What were you supposed to do when you were told that someone
was possessed by the Devil?
“I could help you with that?”
The voice from behind him and the hand on his shoulder startled him.
Yuri whirled out of the pew, his arm flailing to dislodge the hand on his
person.
“What the fuck?!”
He seemed to be saying that phrase a lot these days.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuuri thumbed the screen of his phone, turning his flight mode off and
switching the sim card to the prepaid one he’d bought last time he was in
Russia. Buying a dual sim phone was a pretty smart idea, especially if you were
an international athlete.
He couldn’t keep the silly grin from his face as the plane taxied down the
runway towards the Yekaterinburg Airport terminal. He’d understood enough of
the announcements to know that he was allowed to turn his phone back on;
hopefully with his extended stay, he’d pick up a bit more Russian. Despite his
studies, he still didn’t feel confident with his conversational skills. A blush
stained his cheeks as he remembered a previous conversation with Viktor…
“How did you get so good at Japanese?”
“You learn to speak a language quicker in bed…”
Maybe he’d get better at speaking Russian after all.
He waited for the seatbelt sign to turn off before unbuckling his, and then
waited a few more moments for the people around him to sort themselves out. He
wasn’t in such a rush that he had to get off the plane in an instant, he wanted
to have a few moments to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t seen
Viktor in a few weeks, and during that time he’d felt… distant. Sure there were
regular text messages, but they seemed to lack feeling. Was it just the stress
of training and making a comeback?
He’d seen the news. Viktor had won the Russian Nationals, so maybe he would be
less stressed? Yuuri sighed, if anything it would probably be more. Viktor
would have to win the Euro’s and then the Worlds for it to truly be a come
back, and after that, who knew? Yuuri could only hope that Viktor was doing
what  he  wanted to do, and not what everyone else thought he should be doing…
he just wanted his… coach, friend, confidant, his  fiance...  to be  happy .
He shimmied out from his seat and collected his hand luggage from the locker
above. He wondered idly if his luggage would be there; there was always that
small nagging worry that it had gotten lost on the layover in Moscow. He
hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and made his way off the aircraft,
anticipation slowly building in the pit of his stomach. Was it nerves? Why
would he be nervous?
He would finally get to see Viktor, and for his birthday no less.
The lights at the terminal were harsh and bright, the space full of people
milling about, either coming off the plane, or waiting to get on the next one.
People were breaking off into groups, greeting loved ones and friends, the
sound of greetings and conversation surrounding him with noise. He squinted
slightly as he searched the sea of faces, looking for that one familiar one
that would settle his racing heart.
He moved off away from the gate area, not wanting to be in the way of anybody
as he checked his phone for messages. Maybe there was something wrong with the
sim card. He rebooted his phone while continuing to scan the crowd for some
sign of Viktor. Maybe he was just late, stuck in traffic or something...
The screen flashed up. No new messages. He swapped back to his normal sim.
Nothing there either.
Yuuri chewed his lip, the anxiety rising, making his insides feel as if they
were twisting themselves into knots. Had he told Viktor the right time? The
right day even? He didn’t think he’d make such a silly mistake, he was sure
he’d sent the itinerary and boarding information to Viktor in an email when
he’d booked the flights.
He took a deep breath trying to calm his racing heart. All he had to do was
call Viktor, find out where he was, and go from there.  
The taxi dropped him off at the skating rink. Yuuri handed the driver the money
and thanked him in Russian. Getting out, he grabbed his luggage from the back,
glad that he was travelling “lightly” - one medium sized suitcase, one skate
bag that was also his backpack, and his garment bag for his costumes. His
skates had to go in the checked luggage, which was fine; it wasn’t like he was
going to be needing them right this very second. But now that he was here with
all his things, it wouldn’t be that hard to take them out and set everything
the way it should be.
He slowly made his way up the steps to the foyer, dragging his things behind
him. Once inside, he checked his phone once more, just in case.
Still nothing. No missed calls. No messages.
Nothing.
Yuuri took a deep breath to try and calm his raw nerves. Viktor hadn’t come to
get him from the airport, he also hadn’t answered any calls or messages from
Yuuri. If Viktor wasn’t here, he’d have to call Yuri, or even Yakov, to find
out just what was going on. Surely if you hadn’t seen someone for a while,
missed them desperately, and wanted nothing more than to see them… you’d pick
them up from the airport.
Yuuri chewed his bottom lip. He knew things were a bit different in Russia in
regards to gay couples; he could understand if that meant that he couldn’t be
openly affectionate with Viktor in his home country. But it wasn’t really that
different from how they were in Japan; just the reasons were different. Back at
home, it was about being reserved, and not showing your emotions in public.
Holding hands was fine, but even then it attracted a few stares, but nothing
like the open hostility he was warned about.  
He slid his phone back into his pocket and adjusted his grip on his luggage. He
walked up to the counter where a young man was sitting.
“Excuse me? Hello, um, is Viktor Nikiforov here?”
“Nikiforov?  Nyet,  he has not come yet for today, but he will be here soon,
da ?”
The man behind the counter could at least speak English, his accent thick and
heavy. Yuuri breathed a small sigh of relief. “Is it okay if I wait for him
here?”
It would be easier to wait for Viktor at the skate rink than to try and find
him wherever he might be. It was the day after Nationals; Viktor could even
still be in bed. Yuuri had tried to reason with him when he had booked the
flights, pointing out that it might be easier to allow a day of recovery before
arriving, but Viktor had just looked at him with a pout and declared that he
couldn’t bear to be without him any moment longer than necessary.
“ Yuuuuuri,”  Viktor had whined.  “You  have  to come and see me, it will be my
birthday after all! We can go out and see the city; Yekaterinburg is full of
beautiful things and I want to share them with you!”
“You are… Katsuki, da?”
Yuuri looked up and nodded sheepishly. It made sense that someone working at
the skating rink that Viktor Nikiforov was supposed to be using would know who
he  was. He fingered the gold band on his hand absentmindedly.
“You sit in staff room and wait, not out at rink with screaming girls. Viktor
is booked for afternoon, so we wait.”
Yuuri could only nod as the man beckoned him to come behind the counter,
checking the screen of his phone one more time to be sure. Still no new
messages. He followed the man into the staffroom, sparsely furnished with a
rickety table and a few chairs. The man smiled at him and gestured for him to
sit down. “Make self comfortable. I come and get when Viktor arrives.”
The Japanese man smiled his thanks and bowed. He’d send Viktor a message to let
him know that he was at the rink. Hopefully that would make him come sooner.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Viktor watched Yuri leave his room, the door closing with a loud thud and click
of the electronic lock. He suddenly felt tired, so very bone-weary, but at the
same time, much lighter for having shared his secret. He hadn’t realised how
heavy it had weighed upon his soul -  or what’s left of it,  he thought
bitterly. He couldn’t help but wonder if there would be any of him left by the
time he was finally free. Finally back in control of himself, he couldn’t shake
the feeling that he was forgetting something else.
He could feel tears threatening once more and he chided himself lightly. He’d
already cried uncontrollably upon waking. Once he’d pulled himself together, he
put clothes on without waking the sleeping teenager and made his way down to
the hotel restaurant, unable to ignore the hunger pains that made him feel like
his stomach was trying to eat itself. He couldn’t actually remember ever being
as hungry as what he was in that moment; faint and dizzy, feeling like he’d
skated for sixteen hours a day, for a whole week.
It had occurred to him as he loaded up his plate with all manner of food that
Yuri would possibly be as hungry as he was. A wistful smile crossed his lips at
memories of previous competitions where the two of them would eat like starving
men, loading up on all the things that they weren’t allowed to eat in the lead
up. For Yuri, this was bacon, for Viktor this was danish pastries, one already
stuffed in his mouth as he moved through the breakfast tables, piling more food
onto the plates.
Five pastries later, he felt he had enough energy to carry the heavy tray back
up to the room.
He was a little surprised to see that Yuri was actually awake. Had he been gone
for that long? Pushing open the door with his foot, he carried the tray into
the room. Once seated, he couldn’t help but notice the red marks that dotted
Yuri’s pale skin, part of him felt overwhelming guilt that he was responsible;
another very small and hidden part of him relished the sight, his mouth
watering slightly… Viktor mentally shook himself, rationalising that the only
reason why he would feel like that was because of the plate of food in front of
him.
The two of them had eaten in relative silence, Viktor’s mind going through
possible scenarios. He needed to tell  someone  about what was happening, that
he wasn’t himself, that he hadn’t been  himself…
It had gone rather well, all things considered. Yuri had only screamed half as
much as what Viktor thought that he would. As far fetched as it had sounded to
him, Yuri had still believed him, muttered something about going to ask for
help. But how? From whom?
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something important.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Viktor couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten something as important as Yuuri’s
arrival. Somewhere during the course of the day, he’d lost track of the time
and his phone. When he’d finally found it, he was more than troubled to find so
many missed calls and text messages. With a sinking heart and trembling hands,
he rang his fiance, not even bothering to open the messages to read them.
He thought his chest would burst when Yuuri answered.
“Viktor?
He could feel a hot rush of tears threaten to overtake him. “Yuuri?  Solnyshka
?”
“Viktor, um, where are you?” Yuuri’s voice sounded small and tired, making his
heart constrict in his chest.
“I’m so sorry, my love, things have been... never mind that, where are you? Are
you ok?” The words came out in a rush.
“I’m at the skating rink, apparently you’re booked in for the afternoon. With
the time difference and all, and the flight, I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten
everything mixed up, confused even…”
“No, no, no, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can,  Solnyshka.
”
Viktor’s relief was palpable. Yuuri hadn’t yelled at him. Maybe he wasn’t
angry, even though he had every right to be. Viktor resolved to tell Yuuri
everything as soon as he possibly could. In person. This wasn’t a conversation
that could be had over the phone.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuuri couldn’t keep the smile from his face, as tired as he was. The moment
he’d heard Viktor’s voice on the phone, all his insecurities and anxiety had
begun to fade.  Solnyshka . Just hearing Viktor say it made him feel warm, it
wasn’t a name that he said very often; Viktor must have been beside himself
with worry to have used it. He’d once tried to explain the difference between
“aishiteru” and “daisuki”, and how the former was rarely said, even by couples
that had been together for decades, and that when it  was  said, it made the
meaning all the more poignant. So Viktor had come up with a word, declaring
that he’d only ever use it when he wanted to convey just how deep his feelings
were. Yuuri had to chuckle, Viktor only ever used it when he seemed to be in
trouble.
Yuuri glanced at his phone once more, realising in his exhausted state that it
was indeed displaying the correct time, something he confirmed by the clock on
the wall. Viktor was  only  a few hours late in getting him from the airport.
As he waited for Viktor, it seemed like time tracked that little bit slower,
drawing out the minutes and making them seem longer. He hadn’t seen Viktor in
weeks, what was another half hour? Every time he heard the slide of the
automatic doors opening, his heart jumped in his chest, and he could feel the
butterflies beginning to dance within him.
Before long, the sound of the doors opening filtered through once more,
accompanied by Viktor’s worried voice speaking in Russian. He hadn’t realised
just how much he’d missed his fiancé until he heard his voice and felt his
chest tighten in response. He was already half out of his seat when the door to
the staff room thumped against the wall, pushed open with the force of
desperation.
Viktor stood in the doorway, chest heaving, face flushed, his silver hair in
disarray and clothes looking like he’d slept in them. “Yuuri…” he breathed, the
sound like a caress over his frayed nerves. His name said like he was the most
important thing in the world to this man.
“Viktor?” Yuuri half choked, half sobbed. The two of them rushed towards each
other, catching each other in a bone-crushing embrace. Yuuri buried his face
into Viktor’s chest and breathed in deeply the scent of the man he loved, not
minding the crush of his glasses against his face. “I-I was worried that you
didn’t want me anymore…” he mumbled into Viktor’s shirt, hiding his face so
that his tears wouldn’t show.
“Ah, Yuuri,  Solnyshka . Never.” Viktor rubbed his cheek against the top of
Yuuri’s head, ignoring the hair that tickled his nose. “I’m so sorry that I-
I forgot –” he pulled back, cupping Yuuri’s face between his hands, thumbing
away the wet streaks that his tears had left on his cheeks. “– I’ve been busy,
things have been happening, I know it’s no excuse…” He took a deep breath,
looking up at the ceiling to stave off his own tears, “ Solnyshka  I have
something to tell you, something really important…”
Yuuri leaned into the hands around his face, his own heart fluttering against
his ribs, Viktor looked so beautiful in this moment, his turquoise eyes
shimmering with unshed tears. His own hands reached up, fingers reverently
meandering through the silken strands of silver, before impatiently pulling
Viktor down into a kiss, cutting him off.
What should have been an awkward mashing of faces, was in fact the sweetest
thing that either of them had experienced. All the things that neither of them
had time to say in that moment were conveyed through the gentle reacquaintance
of their lips. Yuuri could feel his knees start to go weak, his emotions
puddling and spreading warmth through his body. Viktor’s skin felt cool under
his heated fingertips.
For a dizzying moment he felt the world drop away, a shift in perception. The
kiss deepened and a different kind of warmth oozed through him, his sharp
breath filled his nostrils with the smell of cloves and spices. The skin
underneath his fingers very nearly made him pull away with how hot it burned.
Viktor released his hold on his face, his arms dropping down to encircle his
waist, pulling him against his body to hold him steady before very slowly
pulling his lips away. Yuuri looked up, blinking a few times to clear his
blurry vision, feeling a little breathless. “What did you want to tell me?”
Viktor looked down, his eyes gleaming with intense emotion, almost glowing. A
smile spread across his lips, his tongue snaking out to slide across them.
“Nothing,  Detochka. ”
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
“Darling, I’m back. Did you miss me?”
Viktor blinked to find himself embracing… himself.
He roughly shoved Lucifer away. “What? Wait? Yuuri?”
“Relax, he’s still in your arms, still deliriously happy to see you, and will
most definitely enjoy what I have in store for him…”
Viktor felt his stomach twisting in knots. “You can’t  hurt  him… he doesn’t
need to be involved in any of this.”
The smile that Lucifer showed on  his  face was truly terrifying.
“He got involved, when you decided that he could save you.”
The words wrapped themselves around his soul and inexorably pulled it apart.
“Sit tight, precious, the fun is just beginning.”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuuri’s head was still swimming with how happy he felt. They were out on the
ice together, hand in hand, Viktor refusing to let go for even a moment,
pulling him close at random moments to pepper his face with hot kisses.
 “Viktor,” he quietly admonished. “There are people watching…” Specifically,
the hordes of screaming girls the rink attendant had warned him about earlier.
“Let them watch,  Detochka , I just won the Russian Nationals, nobody will dare
to make anything of it.” Lucifer pulled back with a wink, letting go of Yuuri
long enough to skate away, pick up some speed, and then jump.
Yuuri blinked in surprise.
 “Wha- Viktor! Was that-? Did you just?” He couldn’t keep the shock out his
voice. Viktor had just landed a quad axel in front of him. He skated over to
his fiance, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed, but they seemed
oddly oblivious to what had just occurred. “Does Yakov know you can do that?”
Yuuri trembled at the thought. If Viktor could cleanly land a quad axel in
competition…
 “Are you going to do that at Euro’s?” The competitive part of Yuuri realised
that if they were both in World’s together, nobody would have any hope of
winning gold, including himself, if Viktor performed such a jump in his
routine.
He watched Viktor laugh, the amusement dancing in his eyes, eyes so blue that
they seemed luminous under the artificial lights of the rink. “Ah,  Detochka,
do you think I can’t win without it?”
Yuuri couldn’t help but be caught up in the teasing mood, skating towards
Viktor to grab him around the waist and spin them both around together. “I will
bet you that, at the  Worlds, I will beat you in the Short Program so that you
will  have  to land that jump in your free skate just to beat  me!”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri couldn’t keep the hostility from his face, nor the suspicion from his
voice. “Who the  fuck  are you?!”
In front of him was another teenager. His blond hair was in a ponytail that
seemed to flutter with each movement the young man made, and wearing clothes
that Yuri had only  dreamed  of wearing when he was feeling his most
rebellious, topped off with a leather jacket and the darkest aviators he’d ever
seen. He couldn’t see the piercing gaze behind them, but he could certainly
feel it.
The teen shrugged in a non-committal way. “Who I am is… not important, but I
think I can help you with your… ‘possession problem.’” A small smile played
over his lips, like he was laughing at some inside joke as he made air quotes.
Jesus fucking Christ on a stick.  Yuri had to roll his eyes. His day was
beginning to border on the ridiculous.
“Don’t swear like that.” The young man’s gaze, even though he couldn’t see it
behind those black aviators, felt like it was going to burn a hole in the
middle of Yuri’s forehead.
Yuri narrowed his eyes at the unwanted criticism. “Like what? I don’t recall
actually  saying  anything arsehole.” Just who did this guy think he was?
The teen lifted his face, a haughty expression in the set of his nose and
mouth. “I’m Uriel.” Said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What the fuck? I didn’t  ask  you for your name!” Yuri could feel the fine
hairs at the nape of his neck beginning to prickle. This situation felt like it
was spiraling out of his control. He began to edge away, looking to put some
distance between the two of them.
“Wait, don’t run away.”
A hand reached for him, causing him to flail his arm more violently than he
intended. The tips of his fingers caught the edge of the sunglasses and
dislodged them.  Who the fuck wears sunglasses inside a dark church?
That was his last thought before the world went up in a brilliant flash of
light.
He slowly came to. Blinking against the green-hued after images of the world
that had seared themselves into the back of his eyes.
Are you okay?
The voice sounded like it came from inside his own head. No he was NOT ‘okay’ -
his head hurt, presumably from when he hit the floor of the church, and he
could taste blood in his mouth. Had he bitten himself? He winced as he worked
his jaw around, feeling around with his tongue to make sure he wasn’t missing
any teeth.  
He looked around the church, still quiet and dark except for the soft light of
candles and muted sunlight through stained glass. Where did that guy go? If
he’d just left Yuri passed out on the floor...
I’m still here, and I’m not ‘that guy.’ I told you before, I’m Uriel.
 A faded memory floated to the surface of his mind: sitting with his
grandfather listening to stories about the angels in heaven. Chubby fingers
skimming over the worn pages, hovering over the illustrations of flowing white
gowns, golden hair and fiery swords…
Yup, I’m one of those.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuuri couldn’t seem to contain himself. All the little moments throughout the
day had led up to this one. The one where he and had Viktor were kissing each
other hungrily outside his hotel room, not even managing to make it inside.
Viktor fumbling with the key while they licked, bit and tugged at each other’s
lips. Heat seemed to roll off the both of them, a slow burn that had started
small at the beginning but now threatened to sweep him away and leave nothing
behind.
 “Viiiktor.” He breathed against those insistent lips, his fingers fighting
with the front of Viktor’s pants, sliding under the waistband to fan out
against the warm skin he found there.
He heard the electronic click of the lock, Viktor struggling with the door
before it opened with a small whoosh of cold air, the two of them stumbled into
the room, now fighting with clothes that seemed far too restrictive, still not
managing to break the hold their lips had over each other. The door closed with
a soft thud.
Yuuri found himself bodily lifted and slammed into the back of the door, the
force driving what little air he had in his lungs out with a small huff, his
legs wrapping tightly around Viktors waist. Viktor’s animalistic growl as he
did it,  did things  to him, reached into his body and grabbed him by the parts
that only Viktor knew about. He rolled his hips against Viktor’s own, feeling
his hardness rubbing against his own, a breathy needy whine escaping from his
lips. “Viiiiiktoooor...”  
Viktor’s lips claimed his own in another bruising kiss, Yuuri thought that he
could taste blood if it wasn’t for the warm cloying scent of mulled wine in the
air around them. Viktor wedged him up against the door with his hips alone,
tugging insistently at the fabric of his shirt, pausing in his onslaught long
enough to tug the piece of clothing off, before continuing. As he was pressed
hard up against the door, Yuuri couldn’t remember Viktor being  this  strong.
He could feel himself beginning to melt, his legs starting to shake with the
effort of hanging on.
Strong hands cupped him under his bottom, kneading the firm flesh, hot lips
coaxing him to moan and squirm, his fingers threading through the silky strands
of silver hair, slightly damp with sweat as he clung to Viktor for support.
“ Lyubov moya,  you don’t know how I’ve  ached  for you.”
The words were a purr. A rumble that made him shiver with anticipation and
need.
He felt himself being carried through the room, before being unceremoniously
tossed onto the bed, his pants being pulled off, watching as Viktor took
seconds to rid himself of his own clothes, climbing onto the bed after him, his
body all sinewy grace like a panther stalking its prey. It made his mouth go
dry and his hands tremble. He watched as Viktor stalked towards him, his look
of blatant hunger threatened to undo him right there and then. Watched as
Viktor crawled upwards and began crowding his body, arms and legs trapping him
on the bed in the most delicious cage he could think of.
Viktor’s hand reached up to cup his face, the thumb sliding over his jawline,
the fingers curling over the back of his head under his ear, pulling him
forward as Viktor’s head bent down to kiss him again, and again, until his head
was foggy and his limbs weak. Viktor removed his glasses, nuzzling into the
sensitive flesh of his neck, teeth nipping lightly, making Yuuri whimper and
shiver again, his nerve endings felt hypersensitive, each touch like a slow
sizzling heat that he didn’t realise was burning until the damage was already
done.  
Yuuri shivered and throbbed as those biting lips made their way over his skin,
travelling down his body. One of his nipples was captured between sharp teeth,
making him gasp and moan as Viktor teased and worried the nub, until he was
squirming because the sensation was becoming too much for him to process.
“Viiiktor!” he whined, body writhing against the heat that curled through him.
Fingers dug into his skin, began their merciless journey down his sides,
sliding under his hips before sinking into the flesh of his bottom. Broad
shoulders wedged themselves between his legs, encouraging them to hook over as
Viktor’s warm wet mouth continued, lapping and nipping its way down further,
wringing out a shuddering cry from his being as searing hot lips engulfed him,
his body arching and curling around Viktors shoulders as he came hard. Viktor’s
lips never leaving his body as he greedily swallowed everything he had to give
him. Piercing blue eyes that seemed to glitter in the muted light of the room
looked up at him with an intensity that cut straight through him.
“Viktor…” Yuuri breathed his name like a devout prayer, dark eyes made even
darker by the shadows of the room and the desire that he was losing the battle
to contain.
They stayed like that for a moment. A moment in time that seemed to stretch for
eternity, where nothing else mattered except for the two of them.
***** Chapter Five *****
Chapter Summary
     While Yuri begins a search for information regarding the supernatual,
     Lucifer-as-Viktor takes Yuuri on a sight-seeing tour with far less
     than pure intentions.
“Viktor! You ARE a big stud! Look at you go!”
Lucifer was back in his head, draped over one the elegant chairs, giving him a
salacious wink.
Viktor flipped him a finger from across the room. “That wasn’t me, that was
you! That should have been ME!”
Lucifer clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Your little pork bowl thought
it was you, I even said the words that you’d say to him, surely that should
count… but having said that, I don’t think he’s ever been fucked quite like
that.”
Viktor could only fold his arms and turn his back in embarrassment, his cheeks
burning hotly. It had been an interesting experience looking on as his body
took his lover apart. Yuuri had never looked more beautiful than in that
moment. Lucifer was right. Yuuri had thought that it was him, and responded
accordingly; allowed himself to be swept away… and be shamelessly uninhibited.
Viktor always knew that he’d had such Eros inside him, but even he’d never seen
his fiance look so… wanton.  
There was a rustle of fabric and the sound of footsteps as Lucifer approached
him. Arms slid around his waist and a chin rested on his shoulder, gently
nuzzling the side of his neck.
“Vitya, you’ve been one of my favourites…”
Viktor hated himself for leaning into the embrace, his head falling back to
lean against the smooth warm cheek.
“I’ve got… things to do again. So I’ll be gone for a while. Make sure you both
eat… “
Viktor moaned softly as teeth grazed his earlobe, his eyes fluttering shut.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
“Viiiiiktoooooor….”
Viktors eyes flew open. An arm was wrapped around him, its weight warm and
reassuring. He rolled over in the embrace so that he was facing the owner,
running his hand over the curve of Yuuri’s hip.
“Good morning, Solnyshka.” He said the words reverently, not quite believing
that he was back inside his own body and able to hold his love in his arms.
Yuuri gave him a sleepy smile, his eyes heavy-lidded, and snuggled into his
embrace, he head sliding into the space under Viktor’s chin.
Neither of them said anything, content to lie in each other’s arms and
listening to the small sounds around them.
Viktor kissed the tip of Yuuri’s upturned nose, his heart swelling, like it
couldn’t contain the depth of emotions that he was feeling. He was beginning to
cling to these small moments, terrified that he wouldn’t have a chance to
experience them again. “Breakfast?”
Yuuri smiled up at him, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “Sounds good, I feel
so hungry that I might starve to death if I tried to sleep for longer…”
Viktor kissed the top of Yuuri’s forehead. “I’ll go get us some breakfast and
then bring it back.
He slid out from between the sheets, smiling at Yuuri’s small sounds of
protest. By the time it took him to source some clothes and make himself look
slightly presentable, his love had already fallen back asleep. With a fond look
back at the sleeping figure, he closed the door softly behind him and made his
way down to the restaurant.
This breakfast was much like the one from the previous day, though he seemed
slightly less famished. Only managing three pastries before deciding that he’d
procured enough food for the two of them. He hadn’t seen Yuri since their talk,
and he hoped that the teenager was okay, maybe the three of them could spend
some time together…
So you can tell your little Japanese flower all about your tragic backstory?
Viktor nearly dropped the tray that he was carrying.
Alas the fiery little kotyonok has run into problems of his own. I’m not the
only one who can make someone’s life difficult…
The cryptic reply filled Viktor with a sense of foreboding.
Never mind about any of that. I’m back now, so I’ll be taking over from here.
Viktor could only scream out silently as he felt his sense of self sucked back
into the void.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
“Yuuri! I have the perfect thing for us to do today!”
Yuuri could only smile at Viktor’s childish enthusiasm. “I’m fine with whatever
you want to do, Viktor. After all, you’re supposed to be resting before we go
back to St. Petersburg.” He was grateful that they had a small window of time
to spend together as a couple before having to concentrate on the more serious
things such as preparing for their respective competitions. Viktor had the
Euro’s in late January, literally a month from where they were now. He hoped
that spending New Years in Yekaterinburg wouldn’t set him back, though judging
by what he heard about the Nationals, Viktor had made an impact.
Viktor had come up behind him, leaning his forearms on Yuuri’s shoulders, and
his chin on the top of Yuuri’s head so that he could show him what was on his
phone.
“This,” he said, tapping on the screen, his voice soft and low. “This is a
walking tour. We load the app on the phone, and listen to the voiceover while
we walk along the path. It’s just like an audio guide at the museum, except
it’s outside and using the GPS on the phone.”
Yuuri’s smile melted into one of tenderness as he felt Viktor kiss the top of
his head before he continued with his explanation. “Yekaterinburg has some very
famous churches in terms of history and architecture, much like Hasetsu has in
terms of castles, so I thought that we could take a walk through the city and
have a look.”
He leaned back into Viktor’s hold and tilted his head back, looking up into
Viktor’s eyes, feeling momentarily lost in their depths. “Sounds wonderful,” he
murmured, tilting his head slightly to rub his cheek on Viktor’s chin. His
eyelids fluttered closed as he felt Viktor’s lips seek out his own in a tender
kiss that made tendrils of heat coil around him, leaving him breathless and
wanting more. He gave a small whine when Viktor moved away, pouting slightly at
his lover’s chuckle of amusement.
“Detochka, there is plenty of time for canoodling later. I want us to go out
and do something, after all, we can’t just stay indoors and fuck all day.”
The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upwards, the opposite eyebrow arching as
he gave Yuuri a smouldering look.
The Russian word was unfamiliar, but Yuuri could guess its context. It was
still jarring to hear Viktor swear though. Something about Viktor was a little
different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was just
familiarity, him being in Russia instead of Japan; he couldn’t explain why
hearing Viktor swear made his stomach clench with anticipation either… but it
did.
“Maybe we should be apart more often if this is the kind of treatment that I
get.” Yuuri stuck his tongue out and attempted his own smouldering look. It
wasn’t that hard to keep the neediness from darkening his eyes and he stretched
upwards, reaching for Viktor once more.
Viktor placed a finger against Yuuri’s lips. “This first, then that after. I
promise that I will make it worth your while if you can wait.”
Yuuri liked the prescience that Viktor’s tone held; the look in his eyes and
the way his mouth curled around the words. It made his stomach tangle itself in
knots and his mouth go dry. He licked his lips in anticipation, pink tongue
caressing Viktor’s finger, and nodded.
“Promise?”
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
It was at least a pleasant day, even if it was the middle of winter. The two of
them walked down the street, sharing headphones and listening to the tourist
information that was available along the way. Yuuri kept stealing glances at
Viktor, blushing each time he was caught. He still hadn’t worked out what
exactly was different about him. The sex last night had been raw, intense,
animalistic even. He blushed further as his body shuddered and tingled in
remembrance. He didn’t think that he’d ever been so… uninhibited before. Viktor
had just…
“Oh, Viktor. Did you change your aftershave?” Yuuri looked up at his fiance,
his cheeks pink from a mixture of the cold and embarrassment. “It doesn’t smell
bad or anything, just different. It still makes you smell really good…” his
voice trailed off under Viktor's scrutiny. He pulled his scarf up higher around
his neck, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Really good…” he mumbled into the
thick wool. Viktor now smelled like warm O-toso or tososan, sake that they
drank during the New Year period to ward off evil spirits. It made him feel
warm and fuzzy, almost like he was surrounded by a giant version of his scarf.
Viktor pulled him close with a chuckle, placing a kiss on the top of his
forehead as they continued walking. Just to be different, they’d started the
tour ‘backwards’, Viktor wanting to save “the best for last.” That, and the
last church was actually the one closest to their hotel.
“The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral,” the recording stated , “was founded in honor
of Emperor Alexander the First and in the name of the emperor's guardian angel
St. Alexander Nevsky, the Prince of Novgorod, great strategist and divine
protector of Russian warriors...”
Viktor would pause the recording, adding little tidbits of information as he
pointed out various things as they walked up the gravelled pathway and into the
ornate building. Yuuri could only stare in awe at the opulence; the gilded
walls and frescoes glittered in the sunlight that streamed through the high
windows.
“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, his voice hushed by the sombre feeling in the
air as he slowly turned in a circle to take everything in. He looked at Viktor
for a moment, trying to find the words to describe how he felt.
Viktor just smiled and stepped in close, bending down to whisper in his ear.
“Keep looking, Detochka, there is something I need to check on…” and with a
kiss on his cheek, he left Yuuri standing in the middle of the chamber, his
dark eyes sparkling with wonder.
Lucifer headed past the main chamber where tourists were milling about, taken
in by the grandiose architecture, and found a small antechamber away from
prying eyes and people. He assumed it was the confessional, as most churches
throughout history were the same. He just needed somewhere private for a
moment.
He took the ring off Viktor’s finger, holding the gold band close to his face
so that he could see it in detail. There hadn’t been a chance to prepare
anything else, but it seemed serendipitous that he could use it. Lucifer liked
those sorts of coincidences. He kissed the ring reverently, whispering words in
an ancient tongue that made the air around him shimmer like heat rising from
the desert sands. The ring glowed brightly for a moment, before fading into
normalcy. The only difference now was that it was warm to the touch, like it
contained a life of its own.
Holding the ring in the palm of his hand, he strode out of the antechamber,
heading towards the altar of the church. He placed the ring in the centre of
the stone tabernacle and stepped back, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised its
position. He took a deep breath and uttered a word. The timbre of his voice
deep, resonating.
Voro.
The air seemed to waver. If he stared long enough, he could almost see the
flames of hell licking at the altar. It had a nostalgic feel to it. The ring
seemed to brighten, like it had been cast into fire, glowing white for a few
moments before the light winked out, and the ring was just a ring once more.
Lucifer's hand hovered above it for a moment, before gently picking it up. It
was warmer, somewhat heavier, but still just a ring. His smile was one of
triumph. It had worked the way he had planned, which meant that the other parts
of his plan would also fall into place accordingly. He slipped the ring back
onto his finger and walked back out to where Yuuri was waiting for him.
Despite his control over Viktor and his body, some things still bled through
their connection. Viktor’s feelings for Yuuri often spilled over, but Lucifer
didn’t mind so much. It was nice just to be able to feel again, and Viktor’s
devotion reminded him of someone else's…
“Yuuri,” he called out softly, feeling Viktor’s feelings well up as the light
reflecting off the gilding seemed to make Yuuri glow from within. Like an
angel… He blinked at the memory of someone else; in a different time and place.
Yuuri smiled up at him as he approached, his dark eyes taking on the golden hue
of their surroundings, making them look like rich honey. His arms slid around
Yuuri’s waist, enjoying the sensation of how well the man’s body fit against
his own, his head bending to capture the pink lips that had parted in surprise.
He growled low in his throat as he felt the body in his arms start to tremble
and go limp as his lips slowly and deliberately took over Yuuri’s own, the
feeling of hands clutching at the lapels of his coat just increased the
feelings of possession.. Was it his own, or was it Viktor’s? He pulled back for
a moment, relishing the sight of flushed cheeks, the concupiscent look on
Yuuri’s face, and the slight hardening of flesh against him.
“Come, Lyubov moya, there are five more churches to get through…”
He shivered in anticipation of what was to come.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Viktor’s tone was accusatory, his fear and
suspicions making it harsh and a little shrill.
Whatever do you mean Vitya? I’m taking Pork Bowl out on a date, showing him the
sights, AND getting some of my own stuff done at the same time. Two birds, one
stone as the kiddies say.
Lucifer somehow managed an innocent look.
Viktor couldn’t keep the fear out of his voice. “It’s your ‘ stuff’ that I’m
worried about! I’ve asked you, TOLD you, not to involve Yuuri in this… this…
whatever mess this is!” His hands were clenched by his sides as he struggled to
control himself. What good would it do to even try and hit the Devil?
Lucifer smirked. This ‘mess,’ as you call it, has happened a thousand times
over, and will happen a thousand times more. This time I just happened to get a
little more creative about it.
Viktor looked away, unable to face the fact that his own face could look so
cruel.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
                                        
Yuuri was only half listening to the drone of the recording. His mind seemed a
fuzzy mess from the warmth of Viktor’s kisses and the smell of cinnamon and
spice that seemed to be floating around them. Viktor’s new aftershave was
definitely something.
The sightseeing was also definitely something… in each of the churches so far,
Viktor had left Yuuri to gape at the beauty of each of the unique interior on
his own, and each time Viktor had returned, giving Yuuri increasingly heated
kisses that made his mind go even fuzzier, until all he could think about was
getting back to the hotel to get Viktor to make good on his earlier ‘promise.’
“Two more churches Detochka -” Viktor had breathed in his ear as his hands
snaked under his jacket to cup his arse, strong hands kneading the firm flesh,
pulling him flush against Viktor’s erection that was obviously straining
against his pants. “- and then we can take care of this…”
The words were a low throaty growl that rumbled through Yuuri’s body and headed
straight for his own painful erection. “Viiiiiktor,” he whined into the thick
wool coat, hiding his face that was slowly turning pink from shame and want. “I
don’t think I can wait that long. Can’t we just… get a taxi or something?”
Yuuri tugged at Viktors belt, pulling him in closer.
Viktor just chuckled, biting the sensitive flesh of his earlobe. “Patience,
Detochka, and I promise you that I will fuck you into oblivion.”
Yuuri tried to suppress the shiver of need that made his hands shake like those
of an addict. He pulled away from Viktor, turning in his embrace so that he
could feel the hot press of Viktor against his back as he fiddled with his
phone.
Viktor leaned over his shoulder, surreptitiously grinding into Yuuri’s arse as
he tapped the screen. “Maybe one church left, the last one is overrated, but
this one…” His low tones made Yuuri’s stomach twist itself into knots. “...this
one is special.”  
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Lucifer paused for a moment as he crossed the threshold of the church. As with
most churches, the altar sat under the kaleidoscope of patterns and colours
that the stained glass windows threw over the dimness within. That altar called
out to him. He could feel the energy that filled the space within the walls
throb; an ancient heartbeat of power, and it made him smile as he felt it shift
to his presence, slowly coalescing around him. The ring on his finger was warm
and heavy.
There was nobody around, not even a priest. The nave was deserted. Most of the
churches they’d visited along the way had been quiet, the number of tourists
thinning as the afternoon sun waned. The problem with winter is that it got
dark earlier, and people wanted to go home where it was warm.
He pulled Yuuri closer, leaning down to nuzzle the spot just under his ear,
knowing that it made him let out the most delightful sounds. The Japanese man
had been reduced to a pliant mess, allowing him to be more bold with his
advances as their sojourn went on. He had a plan… and Yuuri in his current
state fit very nicely into it.
The Church of All Saints was relatively new as far as churches in the area
went. It also went by another name: The Church of Blood. Built over the land
where another building had once stood, the place where the Russian Royal Family
had been executed, the altar sitting directly above where the dark deed had
occurred. As far as Lucifer was concerned, no amount of consecration could
erase that sort of past.
He slowly approached the altar, tugging Yuuri along with him, coaxing him with
heated kisses until the two of them stood before it, bathed in the muted light
of the afternoon sun. Cupping Yuuri’s face in his hands, Lucifer couldn’t help
but marvel at how deep and soulful his half-lidded eyes were, how red and wet
his lips were, how sinful he looked with his cheeks stained with pink… he bent
down to capture the mouth that had fallen slightly open as arms snaked around
his neck and pulled him even closer.
“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed. “We’re in a church…” The words were swallowed by
another heated kiss.
“Nobody is here and God doesn’t care, believe me…”
Lucifer’s hands travelled to the front of Yuuri’s jeans, palming the bulge that
he felt there, enjoying the way he moaned into his mouth and pushed his hips up
to meet his hand. “So needy!” he cooed, laughing softly as Yuuri fussed, hands
clutching and lips biting.
He turned the smaller man around in his arms, rubbing his own straining
erection against the swell of Yuuri’s hips, nibbling his way down the expanse
of skin that was his neck, as his hands reached around, deliberately undoing
the button of his jeans. He nipped at an earlobe as he fingered the zip down,
thumbs reaching into the waistband, and with a sharp tug, had both jeans and
underpants down below the plump curve of where his thighs met his arse.
Kneeling behind him, Lucifer couldn’t help but sink his teeth into the firm
flesh that was presented to him, relishing the yelp it elicited, before
spreading apart Yuuri’s cheeks to expose the reddened bud between, still abused
from the night before.
“Viiiiiktor,” Yuuri whined as Lucifer thrust his tongue into the well-used
hole, working it past the ring of muscle. He could feel Yuuri’s legs trembling
with the effort of keeping himself upright as he lapped at the skin, and
plunged his tongue as deep as he could, Yuuri grinding himself down onto
Lucifer’s face as he mewled and begged. With a final swipe, Lucifer
straightened, bringing himself hard up against the smaller man’s back, crowding
him against the solid altar.
“Put your hands on it, Detochka,” he growled into Yuuri’s ear. “You’ll need to
steady yourself for this…”
He pressed a finger into the tight ring of muscle, made loose and wet from his
tongue, moaning in time with Yuuri as he clenched around it. He worked it in
and out a few times before the muscle gave enough for him to add a second
finger. Yuuri’s hole was slick and delicious, and thanks to the previous night,
didn’t take long for him to become used to the intrusion once more.
“You want this badly don’t you, Detochka?” Lucifer could feel Yuuri tighten and
bear down on his fingers in response.
“Viiiktor!” another high-pitched needy whine.
With another deep growl, Lucifer tugged Yuuri’s jeans down a little further,
and freed his own cock with the hand that wasn’t three fingers deep, fingers
that pressed and rubbed against the bundle of nerves that made Yuuri buck and
shudder, and grind his hips back.  
He spat into his free hand, using the saliva to moisten the head of his cock,
mixing it with the precum that was already making the reddened tip glisten.
Removing his fingers from Yuuri’s heat made him keen with loss.
“Hush, Detochka, this is what you want, isn’t it?” He growled as he lined his
cock up with where his fingers had been, the blunt head pressing against the
stretched pucker that still gave him resistance.
Lucifer crowded Yuuri with his body, steadying himself against the taut hips.
His cock nudging against Yuuri’s entrance, nearly in, but not quite. He
tightened his grip and gave a savage thrust as he bit down on Yuuri’s shoulder,
enjoying the feeling of the way Yuuri’s arse gripped around him and probably
nearly tore.
Yuuri didn’t know which to process first. The burning pain of Viktor’s dick
forcing its way inside him, or the sharp pain of teeth sinking into the meat of
his shoulder. Both only registered for a moment before the cloying smell of
cloves and spices overtook his senses once more. His skin felt hot and like it
was too tight for his body, nerves prickling all over him. Viktor’s sharp
thrusts seemed to hit his prostate directly, forcing out high girlish moans
each time. Part of him was horrified at how he was shamelessly thrusting his
hips back and grinding down on Viktor’s cock, his cries echoing off the stone
walls. The other part, the part that seemed to be in control, didn’t care, the
thrill of doing something so debauched making his knees weak and his mouth dry.
His own cock rubbed up against the fabric of the altar cloth, his fluids
spilling out over it, making it damp and sticky until it clung to his skin.
Viktor’s pace was punishing, ripping his climax from him. A stuttering cry fell
from his lips as he watched himself come over the altar, strings of white
spattering along it. Still Viktor did not stop, his thrusts relentless and
brutal.
Yuuri felt a tingling of fear, in the back of his mind; he could tell that he
was being overstimulated, his skin was on fire, the prickling like thousands of
ants were crawling across his skin.  “Viktor!” He panted, tears forming,
spilling from the corner of his eyes.
A strong hand ran itself up from between his shoulder blades, up the back of
his neck before splaying out over the back of his head, fingers curling through
his hair.
Lucifer shoved Yuuri’s face into the altar as he emptied himself deep inside
the twitching, shivering mess of Yuuri’s arse. The press of soft cloth against
Yuuri’s cheek was the last thing he felt when the burn of Viktor’s seed inside
him faded, the church going dim around him and fading from his sight.
The ring on Lucifer’s hand shone brightly through the tangle of dark hair.
~You summoned me my Lord? A figure shimmered through the hazy sunlight .
Lucifer withdrew himself from Yuuri, using the altar antependium to clean the
both of them up as he supported Yuuri’s weight with his hips to prevent him
from sliding to the floor.
“Indeed I did. As you can see, I’ve prepared the most delightful vessel for you
to use. I trust that you’ll find him more than adequate to serve your needs.”
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Uriel wasn’t happy about this current arrangement, and neither was Yuri. The
teenager had done nothing but swear and complain the entire time it took for
him to get back to the hotel room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to
rattle all the others down the hallway.
“Ugh! Now I’m just like that shitty old man! I didn’t sign up for this, I
totally did not consent to this!” Yuri flung himself onto the bed, punching the
pillow a few times for good measure.
“I’m sorry? It was this or just let you go up in a puff of smoke.” The
sharpness of Uriel’s tone could have cut glass.
“CAN YOU NOT DO THAT?!” Yuri yelled into the abused pillow.
Uriel bit his lip, well, he bit Yuri’s lip. Because he was Yuri… at the same
time, using his mouth to say the words that he wanted to say. It made Yuri feel
like he was literally talking to himself.
The teenager- the non-angelic sort -gave another growl of exasperation, rolling
over to stare at the ceiling while he wondered what the hell he was going to do
with himself now.
“Oh that’s easy…” Uriel began.
“ENOUGH!” Yuri shouted. “Can’t you just like, talk inside my head or something?
Fuck me, even Viktor didn’t talk to himself; that shit would’ve been in the
press the next day! I am NOT going to be known as the schizophrenic skater who
talks to himself!”
Is that better? Uriel asked, somewhat petulantly. I just thought it would be
easier if you just heard the words…
Yuri muttered under his breath. “At least I won’t attract attention like this.”
He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, trying to quell the fluttering in
his stomach that had started up. Were they his nerves, or someone else's? “So,
what’s the plan then? I’m assuming you have one? Or do you just randomly go
around possessing teenage boys? I would’ve thought the Catholic Church would be
in on that sort of thing, what with their history and all...” He smirked at his
own joke.
Uriel rolled his eyes, well, he gave the impression of rolling his eyes,
otherwise Yuri would’ve been yelling about the angel taking over his bodily
functions as well. As I’ve been trying to tell you, it was an accident. You, in
your childish tantrum, knocked my sunglasses off, and rather than have you
going up in a pillar of fire, I… ‘possessed’ you.
Yuri could even feel the air quotes. “Aren’t I supposed to consent to this sort
of thing? Aren’t you supposed to ask me first?”
Even he could rememberthat from the stories he’d read as a child, hell, even
Lucifer had at least asked first before fucking up Viktor’s life…
There was a pause, and a mental sigh. I took advantage of certain… loopholes.
Yes, you have free will to do whatever you want, and yes, we are supposed to
ask for permission before we do anything, but at the same time, you’re alive,
and generally things that are alive want to stay that way. So, if given the
choice between being dead or alive, one assumes that you’ll always choose to
stay alive, and work out the details later…
Yuri could see his point, reluctant though he was about the whole thing.
Would he have really died?
The angel was right. He would much rather be alive to be angry and complain
about the situation, than be dead, and who knows what after that.
I’m glad you see it that way. Now, I should only be staying long enough to get
intel on the Lucifer situation and then I’ll be out of your hair. You can at
least help me do that, right? Lucifer possessing someone for so long is
practically unheard of, so he’s definitely up to something.
“No shit,” Yuri growled. “So how amI supposed to help you? Now that Viktor told
me everything, and Lucifer has to know that he’s blabbed, doesn’t that put me
in some sort of danger, aren’t yousupposed to protect me from that?”
Uriel huffed. First you’re complaining about me being here in the first place,
and now you’ve decided that I HAVE to protect you? HA! I’ve done enough for
your sorry little arse, you should be grateful that you’re not a pile of ash on
that stone floor!
Yuri had never wanted to rage so badly in his life, not even when JJ got all up
in his face. Part of him also realised how it would look, and it wasn’t good
for someone who was fifteen and should obviously know better. In all the years
that he’d known him, he’d neverseen Viktor rage or tantrum like he was doing
now… and he’d definitely had reasons to.
“Fine,” he huffed, blowing the air out from his cheeks. “So what do we do now?”
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri stayed in his room for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the text
messages from his fellow Russians that were beginning to pile up on phone. He
had a new appreciation for how Viktor must have felt all those years, not being
able to talk to anyone lest they think that he was crazy or something...
Who was he even going to tell about all this?
Telling Viktor was out of the question, telling his rink mates or Yakov would
be a ticket to ridicule and would achieve nothing. He thumbed through his
phone, looking at his list of contacts. There were two that he paused over
momentarily: Otabek and JJ. He didn’t know if Otabek was all that religious;
whether his faith was just a result of being born into it, rather than choosing
to follow it. JJ, however, was devout about his belief.
Maybe JJ would be the better option in this instance.
He sent off a quick message: Hey, can I ask you about some church stuff?
JJ was nine hours behind, so it would probably take a while before getting a
reply… Or so he thought,  phone giving off a little chime.
Jjleroy!15: Good Morning Beautiful! What stuff do you want to know?
Yuri ground his teeth. Typical JJ. Of course he’d be awake, he was probably
training like mad. He was half tempted to just blow him off and deal with this
disaster on his own.
Yuri_plisetsky: Angels and stuff
It sounded lame, even to him. He couldn’t imagine what JJ would make of this
conversation.
Jjleroy!15: You might need to be a bit more specific there, Tiger.
Ugh! Why couldn’t JJ just get a clue? It annoyed him to no end that the
Canadian had insisted on calling him “Tiger” all the time.
Yuri_plisetsky: How about demonic possession?
He couldn’t make it any clearer than that…
Jjleroy!15: First angels and now demons? You need to narrow it down, make up
your mind. What’s this all about anyway? Why are you asking me and not google?
Yuri hadn’t really thought about it that far. Sure he could search for
information, but it wasn’t information that hewanted…
Yuri_plisetsky: Fuck you then. Forget I even asked!
He threw his phone away from himself, rolling his eyes dramatically as it
bounced off the edge of the bed and fell to the floor. With a huge huff, he
rolled over onto his side, clutching a pillow to his chest for comfort.
I’m assuming that didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?
“PISS OFF! Can you just leave me alone for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”
Yuri had no idea what he was going to do, or how long he’d have to get used to
sharing his head with an angel.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
                                        
At some point he’d fallen asleep, waking to realise that he was starving. He
fished around the floor at the foot of the bed where his phone had fallen, only
slightly dismayed to find a number of missed calls and even more messages.
Seeing a missed call from his grandfather made him realise that instead of
trying to talk to someone like JJ, that he should’ve been talking to his
grandfather instead. After all, that’s where he’d learned his stories… But how
would his grandfather take the news that there was an angel in his head?
Archangel.
Yuri blinked. “What?”
You keep referring to me as an ‘angel.’ Whilst that’s somewhat correct, I am
actually an Archangel, y’know, one of the important ones. Uriel sounded huffy.
Yuri couldn’t help the snort of laughter. His new companion seemed a little
like himself.
Anyway, whilst you were sleeping, I took the liberty of making a few
preparations. I can’t keep being some disembodied voice inside your head, so
I’ve created a space; let’s just say a ‘pocket’, where you and I can interact.
It’s outside time, so you’re not going to be standing there like a zombie in
public or anything like that, but it’s probably safer if we use it when we’re
alone like this. Come, let me show you.
Yuri blinked again. When his eyes opened he was sitting on a bench that
overlooked a pond. Ducks floated lazily on the surface and a small breeze
gently pushed a few leaves across the path, rustling softly as they went. “What
is this place?”
“I told you, it’s somewhere for us to talk.”
Yuri jumped slightly, startled to find that Uriel was sitting next to him on
the bench, wearing the same clothes as he had been wearing when they’d met in
the church. He eyed the jacket enviously, knowing that he’d never get to wear
something as cool as that. “Shouldn’t you be wearing white robes or something?”
he asked spitefully.
Uriel gave a snort. “The robes are a… nuisance. Besides, I prefer these
clothes, they’re more fitting with my personality.” He gave what Yuri presumed
was a wink, hidden behind those solid black aviators.
“You’re still wearing your glasses?” Yuri asked, apprehensive. He didn’t want
to find out if he could go up in a puff of smoke in this place.
“Occupational hazard. I carry the Light of God wherever I go, it’s not
something that I can decide to take a break from. Not that I would want to take
a break from it; it’s just a huge responsibility, and I’m the only one who can
do it.” Uriel just shrugged at him. “Anyway, this is your… special space I
guess. It can be whatever you want it to be, I just took the nicest memory and
recreated its setting.”
Yuri looked around. Now that the angel had mentioned it, the park and the lake
did look a little familiar. The memory bubbled to the surface of him and his
grandfather sitting on the bench, watching over the little pond as the ducks
squabbled over bits of bread.
“You can’t feed ducks bread…” he said. It sounded lame to his ears, but the
words just spilled forth.
Uriel just smiled and looked out over the pond.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
The flight back to St. Petersburg was going to be an absolute nightmare as far
as Yuri was concerned. Viktor and Yuuri had emerged from their hotel room to
meet with the rest of them in the foyer. Yakov was busy trying to round them
all up to ensure that they were all together. He looked as gruff as always,
asking questions in a curt manner. “Has everyone got their boarding passes? I
willleave you behind and you can catch the train back to home!”
It was an empty threat. Yakov would never let his star athletes travel that far
by rail.
Yuri hung back from the main group, pretending to look at his phone as he
discreetly observed Viktor. He seemed like himself, but then what did that
exactly mean? After all, Viktor hadn’t really been ‘himself’ for over a decade,
so what the hell did Yuri know about him? He had his arms around Yuuri, resting
his chin on the Japanese man’s shoulder. Yuuri was content, his dark eyes
owlishly looking around, a small, polite smile on his face as the others spoke
to him.
The teenager narrowed his eyes. Shouldn’t the Japanese piggy be all shy and
blushing? He remembered Yuuri being that way when faced with any sort of
attention, first when he’d kicked the door open to the bathroom stall, and then
when he’d watched Viktor shower him with attention. He clicked his tongue and
went back to staring at his phone, not wanting to be obvious about watching
them. His phone vibrated in his hands; JJ had sent him another message.
Jjleroy!15: I forgot to say before. Congratulations on placing second! Shame
you couldn’t get 1st, but Nikiforov is really something eh?
“I am, aren't I?”
Yuri jumped, his heart hammering in his chest and whirled around to face
Viktor.
The smell of cloves and spices hit him harder than what he’d remembered
previously; he almost gagged on the stench. “What do you want old man?” He
muttered, wrinkling his nose as he looked away from Viktor’s glittering gaze,
wishing that his racing pulse would slow down.
“Yurochka, you smell positively divine. Which one of my brothers are you
hiding?”
Yuri swallowed hard. Viktor’s voice had dropped, the low rumble moving through
him as if it was reaching in to grab his soul. His stomach clenched in
anticipation as memories of their night together came flooding back. It made
his knees weak and his mouth dry. This wasn’t Viktor anymore, this was Lucifer.
“Fuck off. Your shitty tricks won’t work on me anymore,” he hissed, keeping his
voice low so as to not be heard by the others and attract attention to them.
Yuri hoped that he sounded more confident than what he felt. The smell
emanating from Lucifer was making him feel light headed.
“Careful now, Yurochka, if it wasn’t for me, you’d never have been able to
survive your little encounter with… Uriel, isn’t it? You always smelled a
little sweeter…” Lucifer leaned back, hand on chin and a thoughtful look on
Viktor’s face. “ Almost like vanilla.”
Yuri blushed, horrified at the thought that the Devil had correctly identified
that he had an angelic passenger, apparently from smell alone. Did that mean
that he was giving off some scent that other people would be able to pick up
on?
Lucifer chuckled provocatively. “The look on your adorable little face says it
all, Yurochka …” he leaned in close, his breath tickling Yuri’s ear as he
whispered. “ You can’t stop me, Uriel, none of you can. I will win this time.”
Yuri backed away from him, eyes narrowing as he watched the smile on Lucifer’s
face widen. He gave Yuri a jaunty little wave and made his way back to Yuuri’s
side, slipping an arm around his waist. For all the world looking like a
couple, happy and in love, and everyone around them didn’t know any different.
 
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
JJ looked at his phone again. Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded Yuri that he’d
come second; beaten by Viktor Nikiforov. There was a nine hour time difference
between Canada and Russia, well, some parts of Russia… give or take. The clock
app on his phone took most of the guess work out. He checked the messaging app.
Again. Yuri had definitely read the message, two little ticks next to the
textbox confirmed that. Maybe he was… busy?
He shook his head. After the strange messages from the day before, . he wasn’t
sure what kind of help he was supposed to be. As religious as he was, those
sorts of questions would have been better directed towards a priest… he made a
mental note to ask next time he was at church.
In the meantime he had Four Continents to prepare for, especially if he wanted
a place at the World Championships. Although it wasn't necessarily a given,
beating Yuri Plisetsky wasn't his driving force because he'd already achieved
that; beating Viktor was. The disappointment of not being able to compete
against him- and to beat him -was still there, but now that Viktor had
returned, this was his chance to show the world that he was the best ice skater
out there.
But for that, he needed to train harder, perfect his routine. He couldn’t
afford to let the crippling self-doubt from the Grand Prix return and hamper
his efforts. The only thing that would make winning the World Championships
even sweeter was if the little Russian Ice Tiger stood on the podium with him…
in second place, of course.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri was glad to be back in St. Petersburg, and glad that he didn’t have to see
any more of Viktor than he absolutely had to. His grandfather had arrived to
picked him up from the airport, all smiles and big comforting hugs,
congratulating him on his efforts. Yuri buried his face into the huge warm
embrace, mumbling apologies. “Can we just go home, Dedushka?”
Yuri’s grandfather patted him on the back, “Of course, Yurochka. Potya has
missed you terribly and will be glad to see you. She has been sleeping on your
bed, pining for your return. She has adjusted to the move quite well.”
Potya. Yuri realised that he’d actually missed his cat. She was probably the
only thing in this world that wouldn’t judge him or think that he was crazy.
Yuri quickly said his goodbyes to the others, side-stepping the hug that Viktor
attempted to give him, but he couldn’t avoid the one that Yuuri gave him.
“Sorry that we haven’t really had the chance to catch up,” the Japanese man
said with a slight blush, “but it’s really good to see you again, and I look
forward to training with you.”
Yuri nodded, not sure how else he was supposed to respond, other than with an
awkward pat on the back. With a final wave to everyone, he linked his arm
through his grandfather’s and ushered him out of the airport.
“I’ve made you katsudon pirozkhi, Yuratchka!” His grandfather smiled at him as
they got into the car.
Yuri could only smile back, his first real one since leaving to go to
Yekaterinburg.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuuri Katsuki couldn’t shake the feeling that Viktor was somehow… different.
It was an irrational feeling. After all, Viktor was still Viktor. He still
smiled at him with his beautiful heart-shaped smile and still made him feel
warm and loved.
But he was still… different.
Yuuri shook his head. Of course Viktor would come across as being a little
different. The Viktor that was with him in Japan and through his skating season
was his coach. This Viktor was one that was in his home country and competing
once more. Of course there would be a change in Yuuri’s perception of him. Even
Yuri had been a little different.
He felt Viktor give his hand a squeeze.
They were sitting in the back of a taxi, on their way to Viktor’s apartment,
Yuuri still not quite believing that he was actually going to be living with
Viktor and training with him. If he placed at the 4C’s, then there was the
chance that his dream of competing with Viktor, skating on the same ice as him,
would be realised at the World Championships… but first he had to shake the
butterflies that were dancing in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Viktor’s
home for the first time.
Home.
He guessed it was going to be his home too. He returned Viktor’s squeeze, not
trusting himself to look at him just yet. The metal of Viktor’s ring felt warm
against his hand; he thumbed his own, comparatively cool to the touch. He felt
his chest constrict with feeling as Viktor pulled him close and brushed a kiss
against his temple. He stiffened slightly when he heard a small sound of
disapproval coming from the driver that seemed to morph into a strangled
coughing sound.
“What are you thinking, Detochka?”A smile played around Viktor’s lips, the blue
of his eyes seemed to shine brighter than Yuuri remembered. He could fall into
the intense look of those eyes and never come up for air.
Unbeknownst to him, the driver of the taxi had received a rather uncomfortable
variation of that look.
“It’s nothing special. Just nervous about seeing your home, about living with
you, properly, without my parents or my sister, or…” Yuuri’s voice trailed of,
as he lost himself in the strength of Viktor’s gaze, like he was looking into
his soul. His own gaze dropped down to Viktor’s lips, as he licked his own
subconsciously.  
Viktor leaned in closer, tantalisingly close. “We’ll be able to get up to all
sorts of delightfully wicked things, won’t we?”
Yuuri’s mouth went as dry as his face went red. He’d be lying if he said that
he hadn’t thought about that.
He was saved from further embarrassment by the taxi stopping outside Viktor's
apartment.
Yuuri quickly exited the taxi, getting the bags out of the boot and setting
them on the footpath while he waited for Viktor to pay the driver. Pulling his
coat tighter around him to ward off the chill of the wind, he took the
opportunity that the lull gave him to take in the surroundings. It appeared the
apartment building was in a nice part of the city, large trees lined along the
road, their branches heavy with snow that had mostly been swept away from the
thoroughfares. The building that they were in front of almost looked like a
hotel. Glass doors led into a foyer and a counter where someone was seated.
“Are you ready?”
Yuuri was pulled from his observations, the realisation of how close he was to
something that he’d only ever dreamed about causing him to draw in a shuddering
breath. He nodded mutely, picking up his bags to follow Viktor.
The doors parted silently, the warm air from inside of the building wafting out
to embrace him as he stepped inside.
“Ah, Mr. Nikiforov, it’s good to see you once more. Congratulations on your win
at Nationals.”
Yuuri blinked at the person who was seated behind the desk, surprised that they
had spoken in English rather than Russian.
“I see that you have brought Mr. Katsuki with you. Would you like me to
organise a door key for him?”
Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, but Viktor was already walking over to
the counter, the conversations switching back to Russian, leaving him to stand
awkwardly behind him as he half listened, half continued to stare at his
surroundings until Viktor waved a key ring in front of his face.
“Detochka,you are now officially on my apartment registration. This is the key
for the door, and this card here will open the glass doors and the elevator
after hours.” Viktor just grinned at him, his blue eyes shining.
Yuuri blushed as he gingerly took the keys, afraid that they might suddenly
disappear, and that this was all a very elaborate dream. One that he really
hoped that he didn’t have to wake from any time soon. He followed Viktor once
more, and a short ride in the elevator later, the two of them were standing in
front of Viktor’s apartment door.
“Did you want to try out your key?” Viktor’s voice was low, and his breath warm
against his ear.
The key slid easily into the lock, Yuuri turning it with a faint click, his
hand on the door handle. The butterflies in his stomach were intensifying and
he could feel his heart thumping in his ears; a roaring sensation, like being
trapped under a waterfall. He thought that he might faint. There was a
scrabbling sound from the other side of the door, and an irrational fear rose
up within him. He mentally shook himself. There should be no reason as to why
he felt the icy grip of terror; it was Makkachin on the other side of the door,
not some... growling slavering beast ready to tear the flesh from his bones,
all sharp claws and teeth.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Viktor’s hand was over his, applying pressure so that handle turned. Yuuri
wanted to scream out, but the sound never made it past his throat.
The door opened.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri slowly stepped through the front door of his newly acquired apartment. His
grandfather had wasted no time in making it look homey with personal trinkets.
Hearing their arrival, Potya was already padding out from one of the rooms, her
tail swishing as she hurried over, rubbing her cheek against his leg, purring
as loud as she could. He scooped her up into his arms, burying his face into
the fur of her neck as she happily rumbled into his, headbutting his jaw with
little chirps.
“See, I told you Potya missed you.” His grandfather gave him a warm smile. “She
settled into the apartment very quickly. We’ve only been here a week; it was
amazing how fast everything was organised, and how quickly we were able to move
here. One of the removalists even drove the car as we followed them here so
that I didn’t have to. It was amazing how helpful they were, Yurochka!”
He followed this grandfather into the kitchen where he was busying himself.
“They did all that? Really?”
“Yura, I would not be standing here if that weren’t the case.” His grandfather
wagged a finger at him in admonishment.
He left his grandfather in the kitchen and went to inspect the rest of the
apartment. The bedrooms appeared to be spacious, easily fitting their existing
furniture and the bathroom had a walk-in shower and a separate bath. There were
two little balconies, one outside his bedroom, and another outside the living
area which meant that Potya had her pick of sunshine.
“The clinic is also just down the street a few blocks away,” his grandfather
called from the kitchen.
Ah yes, the clinic, the whole reason why Yuri was looking for an apartment such
as this in the first place. Never mind it being close to the skating rink where
he trained with Yakov and the others, he wanted to his grandfather to get the
best possible care that he could for his back, now that he was winning gold
medals and the sponsorship endorsements meant that he could afford it…
“You’re really good at rationalising aren’t you?”
Yuri blinked. Ducks squabbled over a morsel, ripples spreading out over the
pond.
“I thought we’d agreed we wouldn’t do this unless I was… lying down or
something.” Yuri didn’t even bother to look at the angel seated next to him.
“Well, if you’re going to stand there and be all introspective about things,
then give credit where credit is due. I’m responsible for your ‘good fortune,’
you could at least admit that toyourself.”
Yuri wrapped his arms around himself, not really wanting to remember that
conversation, but did anyway.
“You begged me to do ‘something,’ how you couldn’t bear to stay with Yakov
after you saw him doing... things. That you didn’t feel safe, even with having
me- which, by the way, is a bit rude; I’m still a bit peeved at that -and so
you wanted somewhere safe . Somewhere Lucifer couldn’t find you.”
“Lucifer won’t find us, right? Like, I'm not going to wake up to find him
standing over me or anything like that… will I?” Yuri didn’t want to admit that
the thought frightened him more than he let on. He finally turned to look at
the angel next to him.
Blond hair glowed like a nimbus around his head, dark glasses still hid his
eyes, eyes that burned so bright that sometimes Yuri wondered if he could see
them behind the opaque shades.
“I'm not sure I can promise that, but I can promise you that I'll protect you
as best I can. But I'm not your personal bodyguard, I'm here to find out what
Lucifer is up to, and then try and stop him from doing whatever it is. Then I
leave and everything returns to normal… but don't worry, you'll still get to
keep the apartment.” 
Yuri swallowed. “He said something… I've been thinking… what did he mean when
he said that I wouldn't have been able to survive if it wasn't for him?”
Uriel looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, he was right about that.
I was actually quite surprised when it happened, but obviously it makes sense
now. If it wasn't for his “interference” then you wouldn't have been quite as
receptive to my presence and subsequently my possession. Things could have been
quite… different.”
Yuri snorted. “You mean that I'd be dead.”
Uriel just put an arm around his shoulders and awkwardly pulled him close. The
answer didn't need to be said.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Training was… hard. Yakov was relentless. Viktor, Yuri, even Georgi and Mila
made it seem so… easy.
It wasn’t that Yuuri was a stranger to hard work or commitment, but he'd never
really had twocoaches before… and definitely not with conflicting views. Yakov
would bark out instructions and moments later Viktor would be whispering
suggestions, his voice low and hot in his ear. He could see Yakov's face, dark
and thunderous, glaring out over the ice.
So he skated, and skated, and skated some more, until the day was done and it
was all he could do to fall into bed exhausted.
Then there were dreams.
Dreams where a terrifying beast would be standing over him, fur as coarse and
black as coal, eyes that glowed red, and breath as hot and sulphurous as he
imagined the pits of hell to be… claws and teeth reaching for him, to tear his
soul from his body, to shred the flesh from his bones. But when he woke,
panting and sweating, it would be Makkachin looking up at him with her deep
brown eyes as she snuggled into him.
Then there were dreams where he could feel a lazy heat suffuse his core,
curling through his limbs making him feel languid and heavy. The fine hairs on
the back of his neck would prickle and the smell of cloves and spices and…
something else, would make his head feel wooly, and he'd awaken writhing and
grinding with Viktor having to fuck him into the mattress before the feeling
would leave him and he could return to sleep.
And so he skated.
                                        
                                        
***** Chapter Six *****
Chapter Summary
     With word out about Viktor's incredible quad axel, the world turns
     its eye to the European Championships - which makes it the perfect
     platform for Lucifer to proceed with his plans. Even more convenient,
     the perfect pawns are in attendance.
                                        
“Well! Your master has certainly been working you hard.”
The words were heavy with promises covered in a pleasant French accent. It was
all he could do not to lean into the large, warm hand that cupped the cheek of
his arse; to drop his head back against the shoulder behind him and bare his
neck to the honeyed tones that caressed his ears. He gave his hips a little
grind into that hand, gyrating them to a beat that only he could hear…
“Oh Yuuri…” the words dripped, coated in warm chocolate...
“Chris… please don't touch my things without permission…”
Now those words were also laden with promises, dark and heavy, something a
little… dangerous.
Yuuri blinked. Reality came crashing back and he lurched away from Chris,
apologies stammering from his lips and a pleadingly mortified look in his eyes.
Chris just gave him a sultry look, winking at him. “Please Cheri, don't
apologise, it seems your Eros is maturing .” He turned to Viktor, “Vitya, I saw
your skate at the Nationals, it was really quite something… you'll have to
share your inspiration with me.” He looked pointedly at Yuuri who could only
blush deeper and stammer more. “Though your inspiration looks a little
lean.Vitya, how hard have you been working the poor boy?”
Yuuri shrunk away from Chris’s critical eye. He was right though; Yuuri hadn't
been this slim since he was a teenager. His clothes were hanging a little
looser, but he hadn't had the time to get new ones between the training, and
the… dreams. “I'm fine! I'm just, jetlagged and working really hard…” Yeah,
that was it. Just a combination of being tired and working hard…
Yuuri blinked in surprise as Chris pulled his glasses off and tilted his face
upwards towards the light. Concerned hazel eyes looked down at him.
“Viktor! Look at these dark circles, how could you not notice? How could you
let him get this exhausted? Yuuri when was the last time you ate properly? When
did you last sleep?”
Yuuri could only blink at the volley of questions. He stammered out a reply, a
helpless look on his face. “It’s just the stress of moving all over again, and
training. I-it looks like I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was…”
Yuuri felt himself get dragged into the warm embrace of Chris’ chest. It wasn’t
the same as Viktor’s warmth, but it was comforting, like he could finally sleep
without nightmares.
“You shouldn’t be here, your horrible boyfriend should have made you stay in
the hotel to sleep.”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Viktor could only stare at Lucifer suspiciously. It pained him more than he
could admit seeing Yuuri turning into a shell of his former self. His Yuuri was
bright and made everything else around him brighter. This Yuuri was a poor
caricature.
“What have you been doing to him?”
Lucifer arched a perfect eyebrow, an exact copy of his own. “I’ve done nothing.
It seems the boy is a little sensitiveto the divine, and it’s affecting him,
making him feel a little poorly…”
“Poorly?” Viktor snorted. “He looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in months! If
you’re supposed to be me, why aren’t you looking after him?”
Lucifer grinned. “But I am looking after him. When he reaches for me, so
sweetly, in the middle of the night, I give the darling boy exactly what he
wants. I’m pretty sure it’s what you want too. I might be the one controlling
your body for now, but it’s quite amazing how it just responds to the darling
creature, it makes all this just so much fun! Now, if you’re done, I have an
international skating competition to win, and an armageddon to set in motion.”
Viktor’s mouth was already open to give some rebuttal, but he closed it in
frustration.
As always, there was no reasoning with the Devil.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Whether by luck, or by infernal interference, Viktor Nikiforov was skating last
in the Short Program for Euros. Some might say that this was so that he would
know exactly what he needed to do to win, others also might argue that the best
was saved for last, but it could also be said that nobody was prepared for what
was to come. Yuri Plisetsky was skating immediately before him, and Chris
Giacometti before that. No doubt calculated by the organisers for maximum
results, it seemed they were already predicting the way they would place.
Viktor first, Yuri second, and Chris third.
Lucifer smiled for the camera, winking at the fans who screamed louder as he
blew a kiss towards Yuuri, who squirmed at the attention. He could see just why
Viktor thought he was just the cutest thing ever. At the press conference
before the competition, he’d gushed about how Yuuri was his inspiration and how
he’d never would have thought about making a come back to the international
stage if it wasn’t for him rekindling his love, his desire…
Well, the room had most certainly responded to that. In a way, setting the
scene here was easier than in Russia. These people had already seen his
performance at the Russian Nationals. The seed of what was to come had already
been planted in their minds, and they were far more open to suggestion as a
result.
The last question had made him chuckle, even now as he was remembering it.
“Mr. Nikiforov, it seems that this year’s themes are all rather adult in
nature. Yuuri Katsuki has ‘Eros,’ Christophe Giacometti has ‘Mature Eros’, and
it seems your performance on your home turf was also quite suggestive. Is there
a reason for these adult themes? What kind of message do you think you’re
sending to your fans?”
Viktor Nikiforov just tapped his chin thoughtfully before giving a wink and a
seductive smile to the reporter.
“That sex is just fun.”
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri tried to keep the concern from his face as he took to the centre of the
ice. So far he’d managed to avoid most of Lucifer’s attention; for all his
efforts, it seemed like the Devil was occupied with other things and paid him
little to no attention anyway. Uriel had seemed perturbed at that, but tried
not to let it show, but Yuri could feel it curling under his skin, like an itch
he couldn’t scratch. “You’re going to put me off my performance,”he thought
irritably. As if the press conference wasn’t enough, the reporters, going nuts
over ‘Viktor’s’ comments about sex,had turned on him, questioning the ‘purity’
of Yuri’s theme in comparison. He’d mumbled something about wanting to be
different, suddenly uncomfortable about where their line of questioning was
going to go.
Despite everything that was happening, he still wanted to win. There was a
change in the order that everyone was skating in, and the organisers had
swapped him and Chris around. Not that this should have been an issue; he knew
he was still going to beat the Swiss man regardless of what order they skated
in, and with a bit of luck, he might even beat Viktor...
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and waited for the music to begin.
When the first chords sounded, he felt a strange calm settle over him, the
sounds around him muted into a serene silence. His body moved effortlessly
through his routine, even as his arm was raised to increase the difficulty of
his jumps, it felt like he was floating through them, almost like he had...
wings.
It wasn’t until he was seated at the kiss and cry next to Yakov did the world
come rushing back. His eyes widened as he watched some of the replays, not
quite believing it was himself on the screen. His skating looked positively
beautiful.
Angelic.
He blinked as his scores were read out. He’d beaten his previous score from the
Grand Prix; he couldn’t help the smile of joy, the rush of exhilaration. He’d
beat Viktor Nikiforov, he’d become better than him. It would be he, Yuri
Plisetsky, who became the best figure skater in the world.
“Well done, Yurochka, it’s amazing how well you can do with a little divine
intervention.”
Reality came crashing down with those words and the look on Viktor’s face as he
said them, that all-knowing grin. His victory wasn’t entirely his own, and with
that the realisation about why Viktor looked the way he did for all these
years; the feeling rose up hot and bitter in his throat, leaving a sour taste
in his mouth and an even sourer look on his face.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Chris smiled. He knew his face was on the camera for the world to see, and it
wouldn’t do to show just how impressed he was with the little Ice Tiger’s
skate. The young man looked radiant, his beauty taking on an ethereal quality
as he skated. He truly deserved the score that he got and his stomach knotted
at the thought that maybe the best he could hope for in this competition was
third.
He mentally shook himself. It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. He wouldn’t let those
thoughts stop him from skating his best, and who knew; maybe Viktor would break
his leg before he got to skate, or maybe Yuri’s rabid fans would abduct him and
he wouldn’t be able to do his free skate…
He skated out onto the ice as they announced his name, arm raised to
acknowledge the cheers of his faithful followers, and took up his position in
the center. He’d skate better than the little blond Russian; his theme was
Mature Eros, not some platonic love bullshit. His theme was about the raw power
that came from seduction and a good fuck, definitely not something that the
little kitten would know about.  
As he skated, he poured those feelings into his routine. The image of Yuri
Plisetsky, face all pink from embarrassment and lust, that gloriously soft
blond hair like a halo around his face, pretty pink lips parted to take his
cock in his mouth…
He finished.
Chest heaving, face red from exertion, and like the song said: he jizzed in his
pants.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Lucifer’s laughter echoed off the walls of Viktor’s prison. The man was nearly
bent over double, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and he struggled
to contain his mirth.
Oh, that Chris is really something isn’t he? Fancy using the Russian Fairy as
wank fodder in his skate routine! I bet you didn’t see that one coming did you?
Viktor could only fold his arms and look uncomfortable.
Lucifer suddenly looked very interested. Oh, really? You too, huh? Now there’s
something I didn’t know. I would have thought that your mind was too full of
me… but I can see it now. Your arse belongs to me, Vitya, but you can stick
your dick into anything you like, including underage boys, because you wanted
to didn’t you? The little Russian kitten is only just legal, Vitya, shame on
you for harbouring such thoughts. I thought it was only the clergy that was
interested in things like that.
Viktor stayed silent. It wouldn’t do to even entertain a response. The Devil
was right, and they both knew it; it was hard to figure out just how much he
knew, after all, he had been his constant companion for more than half his
life. It would make sense that he knew about every teenage crush, every impure
thought…
Oh, Vitya, the look on your face says it all. I know everything about you, the
darkness in your soul and your dirty little secrets. That’s why my plan won’t
fail this time, because I’m not actually the evil one here. I didn’t make you
lust after a boy, you did that all on your own. That’s the beauty of free will.
Nobody can make you do anything that you don’t already want to do. Now, if
you’ll excuse me, I have a skating competition to win.
Viktor blinked. Lucifer was now wearing a different costume to the one that he
wore during the Russian Nationals. Black and form fitting with shiny blue
embroidery that snaked diagonally down his chest, catching the light as he
moved, making the tangled lines shimmer. The line continued down, over his hip
to spiral around his leg, the blue on black contrast making him seem taller,
longer; a design that would make his spins dizzying to the audience.  
The Devil knew how to attract someone’s attention.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Lucifer smiled a small, private smile to himself as he stood out in the middle
of the ice. This would be the performance that would attract the attention of
the world. Sure, people were looking closely anyway, with the great Viktor
Nikiforov taking to the ice once more. The world was watching, scrutinising,
some wanting him to rise to greatness, and others wanting him to fail
spectacularly.
His performance would certainly be spectacular.
The opening bars of his music sounded out across the stadium, the crowd sighing
in appreciation as they watched him glide out over the ice, his body moving
with the undulating beat of the music, beckoning the audience to watch him
closely. The spiral motifs on his costume just added to the enigmatic patterns
his body was making as he went through his step sequence. His first set of
jumps were executed perfectly, drawing appreciative noises from the crowd; his
spins were terrifyingly dizzying, the crowd gasping in shock.  
Building up speed for his final  jump, the crowd was holding its collective
breath. There was only one element left in his routine, and that was his axel
jump. He gathered himself, muscles tensing in preparation. For the audience, it
seemed that time slowed down enough for them to count the number of rotations
in his jump. A disquiet settled over the spectators before they erupted in
disbelieving cheers.
Viktor Nikiforov had successfully landed the world’s first quad axel.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
The results of the the Free Skate weren’t really a surprise to anyone paying
attention. Viktor was first, with a world record that beat Yuri Plisetsky’s,
which had been a world record for all of ten minutes. Christophe Giacometti was
a respectable third. His score would have been impressive if it hadn’t been
overshadowed by two world records.
Viktor had certainly caught the attention of the world. People who weren’t
interested in figure skating were now paying attention and tuning in as the
news coverage across the world showed footage of his record breaking quad axel.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Chris knocked on the door of Viktor’s room, bottle of wine and some glasses in
hand. It didn’t matter that the free skate was tomorrow, a bottle of wine
between the two of them wasn’t going to affect their skating; in the past
Viktor and himself had shared far more and still managed stellar performances,
with the knowledge of their hangovers secure between the two of them.
Viktor opened the door with a toothy grin. “Chrissounet! Fancy seeing you at my
door, and with wine no less.”
He stood aside to let the taller man in.
“Viktor, darling, I wouldn’t come unprepared. It seems that you and I have lots
to discuss…” Chris waltzed through the door, pausing momentarily when he saw
Yuuri curled up on the bed, blanket heaped over his shoulders, a peaceful look
on his face as he slept. “...though I can come back later if Yuuri is resting.
We can always go back to my room.”
Viktor looked over at Yuuri’s sleeping form, a thoughtful look on his face.
“Y’know what, that doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Yuuri hasn’t been sleeping
well lately, and this is the most peaceful I’ve seen him look for weeks. As you
said, I should be looking after him, so we will go to your room and get started
on that bottle that you have in your hand.” He finished off his sentence with a
wink, the two of them moving quietly back out of the room, the door closing
with a soft click.
Back in Chris’s room, it was a different story, the two of them seated on the
bed, laughing and drinking as they caught up on recent events, before Chris
managed to get around to the subject he was most interested in.
“So, Vitya, since when could you do a quad axel?” Chris leaned in, his tone
conspiratorial. “How long have you been hiding that from us mere mortals? I
can’t believe you can pull it off, isn’t it supposed to be something that us
taller-built men dream of? The physics are all wrong, our shoulders are too
broad, our hips not narrow enough… but you, you managed it anyway. Did you sell
your soul to the devil?”
The look Viktor gave him in return was certainly compelling. Chris felt like he
was falling into the blue of Viktor’s eyes; did they glow in the muted light of
the room? Viktor’s voice dropped into a throaty purr as he whispered in Chris’s
ear, making him shiver as hot breath caressed the shell of his ear.
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
Chris paused for a moment. His last line was only meant as a joke, a throwaway
comment. Surely such a thing couldn’t possibly exist? His eyes narrowed for a
moment. “Viktor, what are you implying?”
Viktor chuckled as he leaned into him, the sound seem to echo slightly, like it
was more than one person laughing. “Ah, Chrissounet, surely you haven’t thought
the same thing over the years? ‘If only I could win against Viktor Nikiforov?
What would I give to be the best skater in the world?’”
Chris could only stare at the lips that were tantalisingly close. Viktor was
right though, he had thought, more times than he could care to remember, about
what he could give, real or imaginary, to beat Viktor on the ice. The wine was
making him feel warm, and his head was getting a little fuzzy. Surely he hadn’t
drunk that much? He took a deep breath, realising that he was close enough to
smell the faint scent of Viktor. He smelled like Christmas wine, all cinnamon
and spices. “Vitya, did you change your aftershave? I have to admit, this one
makes you smell positively edible.”
Those lips, plump and delectable, curled into a smile. Viktor leaned in close,
brushing them against his own, stopped only by Chris pulling back slightly to
look him in the face.
“Vitya, you know I’m not one to judge, but what about Yuuri?”
Viktors lips made a moue before quickly closing the distance between them.
“I’ll worry about that later. I won’t tell him if you don’t…”
Chris couldn’t remember Viktor’s lips being this soft, or his kisses being so
irresistible, heated and leaving him wanting more. A hand pushed against his
chest, coaxing him to lie back. He didn’t need much encouragement. He’d felt
slightly on edge after his own skating performance, slightly perturbed at the
thought that he used Yuri as fodder for his routine, but couldn’t shake the
mental image of the teenager from his mind.
Viktor broke their kiss, lips moving across the line of his jaw before arriving
at his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe as a hand snaked down and cupped him
through his trousers. “Oh, Chrissounet , you really are a naughty boy, thinking
of the kotyonok at a time like this.”
Chris couldn’t gather his thoughts enough to respond to the sultry accusation.
Viktor was right, he wasthinking about Plisetsky, but how did Viktor even know?
The hot breath in his ear and the fingers that were skillfully stroking him
through his clothes were a potent distraction.
”You should see your face, Chrissounet;the way your eyes change colour when you
think about him, the way your cheeks redden…”
The statement was punctuated with a squeeze that made him let out a small moan,
his eyelashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.
Viktor pulled back for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face as he looked at
the ornate desk in the room with the large mirror that rose up behind it. “You
should see your face…”
“Vitya… I don’t remember you being this kinky, but I think I like where this is
going…” Chris licked his lips in anticipation, before pushing Viktor back with
an ardent kiss of his own, his own hands reaching underneath Viktor’s shirt to
caress the toned muscles of his torso, a rumble of appreciation sounding in his
throat.
Lucifer broke the kiss with a nip to Chris’s lower lip, his own curving into a
suggestive smile. “I was always like this.”
Chris breathed in deeply, the heady smell of cloves and spices making his head
feel deliciously fuzzy. “You really have to tell me what aftershave you’re
using; it smells positively divine…”
He missed the frown and the slight narrowing of Viktor’s eyes at his comment.
Chris stood up from the bed, taking a few steps before turning back to Viktor
still seated on the bed. With a wink and a provocative pose, he shimmied out of
his shirt like a strip tease, before turning away once more to take a few steps
closer to the desk. He slid his thumbs into sides of his waistband, gliding
them towards the front, so that when he turned back towards Viktor, he undid
the button with small snap. With his eyes closed, he continued to move his hips
to a rhythm that only he could hear, getting lost in the eroticism of the
moment.
He heard the rustle of clothing, felt the increased temperature of the
immediate space around him as a hand covered his own. Chris opened his eyes to
find Viktor standing in front of him, his hair falling over his face as bright
blue eyes that seemed to glow stared hungrily into his own. Long deft fingers
tugged at the zipper of his trousers, and with a sharp intake of breath, Viktor
helped him tug it downwards, grinding his own hips against where their hands
were, his erection unmistakable through his own pants.
His eyes flitted closed as hot lips claimed his own, those delicate fingers
reaching under the hem of his trousers, nails digging in under the elastic of
his underpants, impatiently tugging the clothing down until it pooled around
his ankles. Viktor pulled him close, mouth working ardently working against his
own in a series of soft bites, hands reaching to cup the firm globes of his
arse before giving them a playful squeeze, pulling Chris hard up against his
body.
“Isn’t it nice when we’re the same height?”
Viktors voice was a husky low growl that sounded like it was many voices all at
once as he backed Chris up against the edge of the desk, grinding their hips
together so that the hard velvety flesh of his erection rubbed against the
supple cloth covering Viktor’s own.
“Vitya, you have too many clothes on!” he grumbled, tugging at the drawstring
of Viktor’s pants, before sliding his hands past the elastic to wrap his
fingers around Viktor’s length. He closed his eyes as Viktor kissed up the side
of his neck, hands working the taut muscles of his hips before half lifting him
so that he actually sat on the desk, it wasn’t so much of a lift as more of a
push, the length and flexibility of his legs evident as he wrapped them around
Viktor’s waist.
Fingers slid over the bones of his hips before reaching the base of his cock,
ignoring it in favour of continuing southwards. Chris’s breath hitched as they
reached the crease of his arse, gently probing.
“Chrissounet, don’t tell me you already had a go before coming to see me?”
Viktor’s whisper was hot in his ear.
Chris let out a breathy sigh as a finger slid easily into him with a faint
squelch. Sighs turned into moans as a second, then a third finger joined the
first, working their way inside, seeking out the spot deep within that felt
like it ached to be touched. Fingertips brushed over it and, he gripped
Viktor’s cock harder in response, a needy whimper escaping his lips. “I
couldn’t help it…”
“Kotyonok’s cries were much sweeter when my fingers were inside him…”
Chris’ eyes flew open and he pulled back slightly to look at Viktor. His grin
looked almost cruel, but the way he licked his lips sent a shiver down Chris’
spine and caused him to clench around the fingers that were inside him. “W-
what?”
“... though in this position, he’s flexible enough to rest his ankles against
your shoulders, thin arms clinging around your neck as you thrust into his
tight little hole…”the words were punctuated with a thrust of his fingers.
“Y-you and Plisetsky?” Chris stammered, not wanting to give into the thrill of
those words that made his stomach clench and his balls tighten.
A deep throaty chuckle as those fingers continued to stroke him from the
inside. “Yup. After Nationals he came barging into my room, hissing and
spitting like the little cat that he is. Stroke him the right way and he begins
to purr like you wouldn’t believe. Soon he was begging me to stick my cock into
that cute little boy pussy of his.”
The words coming out of Viktor’s mouth sounded so wrong, but Chris couldn’t
help the way they made him feel, the heat coiling through him, threatening to
consume him in an obscene blaze.
“You really should see your face now, Chrissounet. The thought of fucking the
shit out the kotyonok really has you going.”
Viktor was removing his fingers, pulling him away from the desk to turn him
around, grinding his cock into the cleft of his arse while pale white fingers
began to dance over the skin of his dick, contrasting with how red the engorged
flesh was becoming, the tip beginning to purple, his slit leaking precome that
dripped, coating his skin with slick.
Chris dropped forward, his hands on the desk as Viktor prised his cheeks apart,
rubbing the head of his cock around his loosened bud collecting the moisture
that was coating it.
“It’s like I don’t even need any lube, you’ve already used so much that it’s
still slippery. What were you thinking about as you fingered yourself hmm?
Kotyonok isn’t much of a giver, he’s much better at taking it…’ 
Chris gritted his teeth as he felt Viktor push his cock through the ring of
muscle, letting out small pants as he felt himself slowly get filled until
Viktor bottomed out, grinding his hips in for good measure.
Lucifer began slow, languid thrusts, angling himself so that he brushed up
against the sweet spot inside, the one that made Chris’s legs tremble slightly
each time he did so.
“You can’t bend him over like this though, your legs would be far too long, but
on all fours, face pressed into the mattress as you pound into him, making him
beg you to give it to him harder… he begs like a pro, all tears and pleading
cries.”
Chris couldn’t help the long moan that fell from his lips. Viktor was stoking a
fire that he had often denied existed.
“Let yourself go, Chrissounet , give into those thoughts, just imagine how
delicious the kitten will be when you finally take him…”
Viktor’s provocative litany of words about how good Plisetsky had felt
underneath him, the feeling of Viktor moving skillfully, hands touching all his
sensitive places, his cock repeatedly rubbing against his prostate… the sight
of his own face in the mirror, cheeks flushed with more than just lustful
exertion; with a French curse, he came all over the desk.
Trying to catch his breath, Chris watched as Viktor took his hand, swiped his
finger through the mess on the desk, and began to draw an intricate pattern on
the mirror in front of them. The mirror seemed to shimmer under the symbol,
like the road on a hot day. Chris blinked a few times, he didn’t think that the
sex was that good that he was going blind… Then a figure appeared in the
mirror, his own reflection wavering over the top of it.
“For me, Luci? You shouldn’t have!”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
                                        
Record breaking numbers of viewers were tuning in to watch the Free Skate of
the Euro’s. The routines had been uploaded to youtube and viewed thousands of
times. Viktor’s short program and quad axel attracted the most attention;
discussions appearing on social media as the world speculated whether the feat
was just a trick, slowing down the footage and showing it frame by frame to
‘expose’ the lie, only to be disappointed that they were proven wrong.
Smaller discussions began surfacing over the slowed down footage. Did Viktor
look different? His features not quite the same; the eyes that looked like they
glowed, and the shadow of what looked like wings behind him? That was surely a
trick of the lighting, all the different spotlights creating strange shadows
and effects as he skated.
Sports reporters were flocking rinkside, looking to be the first to capture
whatever surprise Viktor Nikiforov had in store for them.
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri watched Chris’s Free Skate with a critical eye.
It was a different routine to what he’d seen at the Grand Prix. This one was
more, elegant, graceful; the man moved like he was whispering sweet nothings
into his lover’s ear. Instead of feeling warm and fuzzy, those ‘nothings’ made
his mouth go dry, his breathing quicken, and gave him an uncomfortable
sensation in the pit of his stomach. Those whispers spoke of seduction, and a
love that was anything but pure and chaste.
He could feel something in the air, the stirrings of hundreds of spectators
falling under whatever spell the Swiss man was weaving. Faces were flushed,
breathing hitched and quickening, everyone leaning forward in their seats, as
if they were being drawn down deeper into whatever emotions they were
experiencing.
Chris finished with a flourish that sent a ripple through the audience, a
collective shuddering sigh. No doubt the pervert had come in his costume…
again.
Yuri was already waiting to enter the rink, Chris taking his time to wave and
blow kisses, bending to pick up the flowers that had been thrown out onto the
ice. The older man stopped in front of him, and with a rakish smile, gifted him
with one of the roses. Yuri took it with a huff, stepping aside to let him
pass, not wanting to meet the gaze that felt like it was seeping into his very
core, trying to draw out whatever feelings he had hidden.
He thrust the flower at Yakov, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering scent.
Were the fans now spraying perfume onto their flowers? He skated out onto the
ice. He wasn’t going to let a stupid flower, or its cloying scent, distract him
from his routine, from beating that shitty pervert, and that even shittier old
man.
Yuri threw himself into his routine, poured his soul into his skating; his
jumps exhilarating, his step-sequences breathtaking. Would it be enough? It had
to be enough…
The music reached its crescendo, he pulled himself out of his spin and struck
his final pose, chest heaving. It took a moment for the agony of his body to
catch up with him, he’d really pushed himself, much harder than at the Grand
Prix.
Did the cheers seem somewhat… less? Sure flowers and stuffed toys were being
thrown onto the ice as he raised his hand in acknowledgement, but the applause
for Chris was somehow different from what he was receiving.
With a final wave he exited the rink and made his way to the Kiss and Cry with
Yakov. The scoring was lacklustre, and certainly not indicative of the effort
he'd put into his performance. Yakov gruffly reminded him that effort meant
nothing if the judges didn't think you should win, but he could tell that his
coach was less than impressed.
He heard the crowd's murmuring fade into hushed silence.
Viktor had taken to the ice.
Yuri narrowed his eyes and made his apologies to Yakov. He was done with the
Kiss and Cry, and the commentators were now fully focused on Viktor. He quickly
made his way out of the rink area. He didn’t want to be sitting in the audience
while Viktor skated, not after what happened in Russia. Instead, he went into
one of the viewing rooms to watch the skate; everyone should be rinkside
watching Viktor skate which would mean that the room should be empty.
He walked through the hallway as quickly as he could whilst still wearing his
skates, there was no point taking them off. He knew he’d get a medal; which one
was the question. The discordant hum of an off key piano signalled the start of
Viktor’s routine.
He cautiously pushed open the door of the viewing room, looking to see if it
was empty first before entering. Thankfully it was. Viktor’s skating displaying
on the large flatscreen TV that was on the wall. Yuri’s eyes were drawn to the
image of Viktor moving across the ice, the camera zoomed in so that he was much
closer, looked bigger, than what he did from the stands.
The words of the song faded into the background, a dissonant hum in the face of
what he was seeing. VIktor’s arms reaching out, pleading with his audience,
pleading with him. The promise of all things improper, the granting of his
deepest, darkest desires. Yuri could feel the heat coil through him like a
fiery whip that curled around his soul and set it aflame.
Viktor beckoned.
Yuri responded.
The memories of the night after the Russian Nationals came flooding back,
taking him by surprise. His breathing accelerated, his face flushed. A needy
moan escaped from his lips as his eyes fluttered shut and a shudder went
through his body. His skin prickled and he felt himself swell to the point of
pain; trapped inside his skating costume with no easy way of release, an aching
unfulfilled desire threatened to overtake him.
He reached down and cupped himself, nearly crying at the contact. It didn’t
feel like it was any sort of relief, but it felt like something.
For four minutes he sat in front of the television screen, writhing and
moaning. Needy tears spilled over his cheeks, accompanied by whimpers of
desire. He’d give anything, anything, if he could just...
“Just what?”
Yuri blinked.
The crushing desire that he was feeling moments before, had settled to a muted
roar in the back of his mind. He was sitting in front of the duck pond, Uriel
standing in front of him, hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently.
With a sob, Yuri flung himself at the angel, wrapping his arms around his
waist. Uriel patted him awkwardly on the back. “You have to tell me. What was
Lucifer making you feel? What did you want to do? I can’t stop him unless I
know what he’s up to.”
Yuri pulled back with a sniff. Sympathy was definitely not one of Uriel’s
strong points. “He- I, God, I can feel it even now, I just…” He waved his hands
in a helpless gesture. As soon as he left this place, he would back at the
mercy of those tumultuous feelings.
“...I just want to fuck.”
                                        
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Yuri could only grit his teeth and smile for the camera. Standing on the podium
in third place was not something that he’d anticipated. He’d broken a world
record, and held it for as long as what it took for Viktor to skate and break
it again. He hadn’t performed poorly in his Free Skate either, but the
performance put on by Viktor and Chris in theirs… the judging was somehow worse
than what it was in Russia. He sniffed, his eyes watering slightly as the smell
of cloves and spices, and now roses tickled his nostrils, seemingly stronger
than what he thought was should be possible.  
He glanced sideways at Viktor who was smiling and holding his gold medal aloft.
Further along the podium, Chris was doing the same with his silver one, their
eyes met for a brief moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine.
Chris’s eyes were shining brightly, perhaps a little too brightly, their hazel
hue seemingly tinged with a little more green than usual. The man gave him a
wink, his gaze lingering a little longer than what was necessary; a hungry look
that made Yuri feel a little more than uncomfortable.
It reminded him of his night with Lucifer, and of the reactions that watching
Lucifer’s skate had wrung from him.
Yuri flinched as Lucifer put his arm around him.
“Smile for the camera,Yurochka.The world is watching. It won’t do for the press
to think of you as a sore loser.” Blue eyes looked down at him, the colour
seemingly absorbing the chill of the ice and reflecting it straight back at
him. The grip on his shoulder tightened painfully for a moment before Lucifer
stepped away to embrace Chris and smile for another photo.
It’s not Viktor anymore , he thought. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s
not Viktor.
Yuri stepped off the podium, trying to brush the troublesome thoughts from his
mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell too much on what was happening. What could he do?
Even the power of an angel wasn’t enough to get him through this competition or
save him from the effects of Lucifer’s skating; it certainly wasn’t going to be
enough to save the world from whatever it was that was happening. He couldn’t
quite understand it; wasn’t good supposed to triumph over evil?
There was obviously a lot he didn’t understand. How did ‘good’ and ‘evil’
battle it out anyway? Wasn’t there supposed to be flaming swords? He was pretty
sure that sex didn’t come into it; but that was all that was happening right?
People just being horny and… and…
He’d wandered into the change room, only to be greeted with the sight of Yakov
bending Georgi over one of the benches. The old man’s head was pink and shiny
with sweat, hips thrusting into Georgi, who was clearly enjoying whatever it
was that was happening to him.
Yuri backed out of the change room, torn between disgust and horror, and
straight into a firm unyielding body.
“Careful there, Yurochka,” a deep voice purred in his ear. “You wouldn’t want
them to notice you peeping on them. Surely you’re not a little voyeur hmmm? Or
maybe you are?”
Yuri looked up into Chris’s eyes, hazel and shimmering with green as if they
were lit from within. The same kind of light that made Viktor’s eyes glow blue.
The smell of roses hit him like a wall, sickly sweet, as if it was sticking to
his skin and dragging him under like it were quicksand. “You’re not that Swiss
pervert anymore, are you?”
‘Chris’ let out a husky chuckle that Yuri felt all the way down to his toes.
“He’s still here, inside…” He tapped the side of his head with a beguiling
grin. “But I can assure you, my little Russian fairy, that he and I share the
same desires.”
“So you’re both perverts then?” Yuri couldn’t help but be rude, as far as he
was concerned, there was no need to be polite.
“He and I are… kindred spirits. I should introduce myself. After all, I can’t
have you calling me pervert all the time. My name is Rosier. You could say that
I’m the patron of romance and seduction. I’m the one that you call one when
you’re in need of honeyed words and eloquent phrases of love. I could talk the
very birds from the sky and fish from the sea, make them fall in love with each
other and die before they knew they were doomed.” Rosier sniffed the air for a
moment before fixing him with an intense stare of renewed interest. “Ooh! Now
that’s interesting…” His green-tinged gaze was almost predatory. “Luci didn’t
tell me that there were more of us here .”
Yuri opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that came out was not his own.
“I’m nothing like you , demon. Don’t think you’re going to be here for very
long. A second rate demon such as yourself should be easy to dispose of.”
Rosier chuckled, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Uriel? Fancy seeing you
down here! I would have thought that all of this was beneath you. You hardly
ever show up to these things, that is of course, unless you think you’re
winning. We all know how much you hate to lose Uri; which means… that you being
here is an accident . Does your little host know that you’re not here in your
full capacity? I bet you promised him that you’d protect him, keep him safe
from the big bad Luci, but truth be told, the best you can do is what? Light a
few candles? Create mind space? You can’t actually do anything, can you?”
Yuri paled. Was the demon right? Had Uriel basically lied to him this entire
time; his promise to keep him and his grandfather safe?
“Yuri, don’t listen to him! Remember who is! Seduction doesn’t have to be
sexual, he’s trying to put doubt in your mind, and make you distrust me. If you
don’t trust me, then my capacity to help you is reduced. I can’t force things
to happen, it’s against the tenet of free will.”
The teenager was torn. The two entities were correct in their own ways, so
which one did he believe?
A particularly loud moan startled him, reminding him that the change room was
otherwise occupied.
Yuri could feel his frustration at the situation, at the events surrounding
him, start to mount. How was any of this fair? All he wanted to do was skate,
to win, to beat Viktor-fucking-Nikiforov. Not have his life in shambles because
of some battle between good and evil.
“You know what? Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I’m really wondering if I even care
enough about any of this to give a shit anymore. All I wanted out of all of
this is for my grandfather to be safe, and now you’re telling me that it can’t
be done. So what’s the fucking point in any of this then?”
Rosier leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “You’ll
have to ask your angelic host the answers to those questions, my little fairy.
I’m just a second-tier demon as Uri will so eloquently put it; I’m here because
I was told to be. Once I’ve done my bit, what I choose to do in my spare time
is none of Luci’s concern, but I willbe making the most of it.”
Yuri could only throw his hands in the air in disgust. The moaning in the
changeroom was changing pitch, Georgi’s panting getting higher and whinier. No
wonder Anya left him if he sounded like a dying pig during sex. “I don’t give a
fuck what any of you do anymore. I’ve got my qualifier for the Worlds, no
thanks to you arseholes, and I will win without help, divine or demonic!”
Rosier just chuckled, the sound tickling his senses in a way that was starting
to make him feel more uncomfortable. “I look forward to it, my little fairy.
Shall I see you at the banquet tonight? I hear that catering has really outdone
itself this year; there will be some tasty morsels up for devouring.”
 
                                        
***** Chapter Seven *****
Chapter Summary
     Yuri can take a loss if he has to, but with a competition so grossly
     biased, he feels his righteous anger is justified at the end of
     competition banquet. Turns out that he's not the only one that's
     angry, though, and as tensions continue to mount, things take a dark
     turn.
Yuri was suspicious. Suspicious and uncomfortable. The banquet eerily reminded
him of the one after the Russian Nationals, except there were obviously more
people here, and everyone seemed somewhat… overdressed. Case in point, the
Swiss Pervert had shown up in a three-piece suit, as had Viktor. Katsuki,
however, looked less refined. Viktor really should have done something about
the eye-bags that Katsudon was sporting. He huffed to himself, reluctantly
admitting that the pair of them certainly cut dashing figures; it was hard to
look sophisticated when you had a reputation for being a fifteen year-old
rebellious teenager.
Covertly looking around the room, he was also surprised to see that nearly
everyone was actually attending. “Shouldn’t they all be fucking somewhere?” He
scowled as he muttered into his glass of champagne.
“Should you really be drinking that?”
Yuri nearly dropped the glass. The Swiss Pervert had seemingly appeared from
nowhere. “Shouldn’t you be chumming it up with…” he waved his hand in the
general direction of Viktor-Viktor-who-wasn’t-actually-Viktor, who was busy
being charming and witty. All the things that he wasn’t at the moment.
“Awww, is the little fairy jealous? Everyone is paying attention to Luci over
there, and so they should be; so handsome, so charming… sotall.”Rosier
chuckled, low and heavy, the sound making Yuri’s stomach flutter.
He was about to fire off an angry retort when arms were wrapped around him and
he was enveloped in perfume, frills and girlish giggles. “Congratulations,
Yuuuuuuri!” His name, drawled out in an Italian accent.
“Sara! Get off him!” Wherever there was Sara, her brother Michele would not be
too far behind...
Yuri would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so busy trying to disentangle
himself from Sara’s embrace. His temper started rising as Mila joined in,
crushing him from the other side, the two girls laughing at his obvious
discomfort. “What Michele said! Get off me you hags! Why don’t you go hang off
someone who actually likes that sort of shit, like the fucking Swiss Pervert
over there!”
“But Yuri!” Sara pouted at him. “You look so cute in your little jacket and
tie, trying so hard to be grown up and all. You haven’t even been in Seniors
for a year. You’ll need to revamp your look if you want to pull the ladies.”
Mila snorted. “He doesn’t want to pull the ladies, he just wants to pull Beka!”
The two girls shrieked with laughter as Yuri felt his face redden with shame
and embarrassment. He wanted to protest; Beka was just a friend. His only
friend.
“Oh, but ladies, the little fairy is just fine as he is. After all, I’m here,
you two are here, what more does he need? Give him a few more glasses of
champagne and I’m sure there will be even more people flocking to his dainty
side… you can’t miss the jealous looks that Michele is giving him. I’m pretty
sure he could snag himself whomever he wanted.” Hazel eyes smouldered with a
green light, and the words were lush with promises.
The girls giggled, letting go of Yuri to hang off Chris instead, the man
sliding an arm around each of them, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Yuri snorted. “You look like a pimp.”
The girls raucous laughter was harsh, Chris’s chuckle seemed slightly
discordant. The smell of cloves and spices seemed to intensify for a moment,
causing Yuri to look around for the source. Viktor was still in the same spot,
across the room, but the piercing look that he gave, the sly smile on his face
as he sipped from his glass, sent a shiver up his spine.
“Are you calling my sister a whore?”
Yuri paused for a moment, an incredulous look spreading over his face as he
turned to face Michele. “What?”
“I said: did you just call my sister a whore?” Michele’s face was one of slowly
growing rage.
“What the actual fuck? How much have you had to drink already?” Yuri was
finding it difficult to keep his own temper in check.
“So now I’m a drunk?” Michele shot back angrily, getting closer and shoving
Yuri in the chest with the palm of his hand.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Yuri slapped Michele’s hand away. He could
feel the fine hairs on the nape of his neck beginning to stand on end. Things
were beginning to escalate out of his control, but with everything that had
been happening, to hell with the consequences if there just happened to be an
international incident. It wasn’t like the world really cared what he was doing
at the moment, it was too busy watching Viktor-fucking-Nikiforov and the Swiss
Pervert jizz on the ice.
“My problem is that you called my sister a whore. From these pigs it’s
expected,” he pointed with his chin, indicating in the general direction of the
crowd that was slowly gathering, attracted by the commotion. “But you? You
think you’re all that just because you won last season? Your entry into Seniors
was a fluke! You want to run with the big dogs, you gotta stop pissing like a
fucking puppy!”
Yuri narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? Well, this puppybeat a world fucking record!
What’s your excuse? Maybe if you stopped fucking jacking off over your sister,
you might fucking skate better!”
What is this? A fucking soap opera?
Uriel’s voice in the back of his mind was heavy with disapproval and was
distracting him from Michele’s belligerent posturing. Yuri thought he heard the
tinkling of a glass breaking, but only seconds before he felt a piercing pain
in his chest.
A burning sensation took over, lancing through him like hot sharp needles. It
took him a moment to register the screams, he blinked in confusion before it
dawned on him.
Michele had stabbed him with his bottle.
He staggered backwards before crumpling to the floor
Time seemed to stand still. He was lying on the floor, staring at the ornate
ceiling. The shrieks of those around him seemed like they came from far away,
like he was underwater; sinking. The burning sensation in his chest seemed to
have died down to just a dull gnawing ache, one that felt like it would
eventually consume him.
He shivered.
Why was it so cold? Did the hotel forget to put the heater on? He suddenly felt
tired, weary, like he’d skated harder than he’d ever had before - pushed to his
limits and beyond.
Chris stood over him, hazel eyes full of concern, except it wasn’t Chris, and
those hazel eyes looked way too green… “Yuri? You need to keep your eyes open
for me. You need to keep talking to me. I’m going to get you out of here. Can
you stay with me?”
Yuri grimaced in annoyance. The pain was dulling and he was getting colder.
What was everyone so worried about? “S’cold…”
He watched owlishly as Chris removed his jacket, draping it over him. He rubbed
his cheek into its warmth; it smelled faintly of roses. Chris then picked him
up, like he weighed nothing… to be fair, he didn’t weigh very much to begin
with, but had Chris always been that strong?
Yuri giggled softly. “Just like a princess...”
Chris smiled down at him, “Not a princess. A fairy.”
“Where are you taking him!?” Uriel’s voice came from his mouth. Yuri had to
cough with the effort it took to speak so forcefully.
“Hush, Uri, do you want to kill the poor boy? Then what will you do? Surely the
guilt of killing one of Father’s precious children will mean that you’ll have
to spend time with Luci, and we don’t want that now do we? After all, you’re
supposed to be trying to stop him aren’t you?”
Yuri coughed again, his lips felt wet. When he licked them, they tasted
metallic. Coppery.
Like blood.
“Hang in there, Yuri, we’re just going to go somewhere nice and quiet and out
of the way, and then we can fix this… hole in your chest.”
Yuri felt himself being jostled as Chris shouldered open the door to a
bathroom. The lights seemed overly harsh and bright, making him squint. Even
squinting seemed to hurt.
He wanted to close his eyes; he was so, so very tired…
“Stay with me, little fairy, we can’t have you flitting off just yet.”
Chris’s words seemed like they were layered, like there were ten of him talking
at once. Yuri felt them pull at him and he struggled to open his eyes. He felt
himself being lowered to the floor. He could feel the chill of the tiles
through his clothes.
Chris tutted at him, “Ah, you really need to eat a bit more, so thin…”
Yuri coughed, could taste the copper bubbling up, coating his lips in red
froth. He felt the stirrings of panic. “Am I going to be ok? You promised me
that I’d be safe…” the words trailed off, consumed by another coughing attack.
“I-I don’t want to die, I can’t … dedushka...”
“You hear that, Uri, you promised him you’d keep him safe from Luci, and you
and I both know that this was caused by him. Indirectly perhaps, but it has
infernal interference written all over it… what would Father say if he knew
that you’d possessed this poor boy, made promises to him that you’d protect
him, and then at the first sign of trouble left him to die? Really, that would
make you no better than Luci, in fact it would make you worse than your dear
brother. At least Luci has conviction and follows through.”
Yuri felt the inside of his ribs begin to burn, hotter than anything he’d felt
before. There was a blinding flash of light, which blazed forth from his chest
and reflected off the tiles around them. He swore he could smell the flesh burn
as it stretched and twisted.
He wanted to scream. Anything to make the searing pain lessen.
“Hush,it’s nearly done. You’re being so brave...” Chris’s reassurances were
soothing, making him choke back a sob as his body twitched and writhed.
He could feel his flesh knitting back together, his insides shuddering and
spasming as they healed.The light winked out and the world came rushing back to
his senses. He gasped. The lights were still bright, making his eyes water, or
at least he thought it was the lights. He choked on a sob, his chest
constricting tightly, his arms reaching for something, anything…
The scent of roses gently wafted over him as Rosier wrapped his arms around
him, “Hush. I know that was hard for you,” he soothed, “but it’s all over now,
you’re still alive yeah?”
Yuri could only sob into his chest, a chest that felt bigger, warmer, saferthan
Viktor’s… A shudder went through him as the memory of the Russian banquet came
back to him. Chris’s voice was low and warm against his ear.
“Hmmmm, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but ah, you’re kinda hard right now,
but it’s okay,” he cooed. “It’s just a natural, physical response to nearly
dying…”
Yuri could only sob harder, cling tighter, as he felt his skin grow warmer,
prickling like a thousand ants were crawling all over him. His clothes felt too
tight, too scratchy. “Please! Do… something!” he pleaded, lifting a tear
stained face to stare directly into the hazel eyes that looked down at him, the
faint green glow making the heat pool in the pit of his stomach.
“If you cling and plead so sweetly, how can I say no?” The smile was warm,
inviting, the tongue snaking out to lick those plump red lips positively
decadent.
Yuri could only lick his own lips in response, subconsciously mirroring the
action.
Wait! Don’t listen to him! Don’t let him…
Uriel’s protests faded into the background as the look in those faintly green-
glowing eyes made him tremble with anticipation.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Lucifer watched as Rosier carried the limp form of Yuri Plisetsky out of the
hallway, lips curling in to a smile. Just what exactly did Uriel think he was
going to achieve on his own in the body of a fifteen year-old boy? His attempts
to steal attention from the skating routines had not gone unnoticed, and given
enough time, he may have succeeded. But Lucifer had a head start, so Uriel’s
attempt had failed in the face of not just Lucifer’s routine, but Rosier’s as
well.
The chaos around him was positively thrilling. Michele had smashed his beer
bottle against the pillar they were all standing around and lunged at the young
Russian skater, burying the jagged remains deep. When the onlooking crowd had
begun screaming and panicking, the look on the Italian’s face was priceless;
rage and horror all mixed into one miserable visage as Michele watched Yuri
stagger backwards, crumpling to the floor as the shock made his legs give out.
Lucifer wanted to laugh. He could feel it bubbling within his chest, wanting to
burst forth from his lips; but he was also Viktor Nikiforov, and Viktor
wouldn’t laugh… at least not out loud.
“Viktor? What’s happening? What’s going on?” Yuuri had a hold of the sleeve of
his jacket. “I heard screaming…”
Lucifer looked down at the pale face that was gaunt with lack of sleep. He was
surprised that Yuuri was able to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. “Ah
it’s nothing, Detochka, just some of the young ones getting a little too
rambunctious in their celebrating.”
Obviously Yuuri hadn’t seen the aftermath of the commotion.
He snaked an arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulled him close, nuzzling him under
the ear. “You don’t need to worry about them, as soon as we’re done here, I’m
taking you back to the room and celebrating my victory. I’d almost forgotten
how good it feels to win…” He ground his hips against Yuuri’s suggestively,
enjoying the rush of colour that stained those pale cheeks. “I can promise you
that you won’t be forgetting this night in a hurry. The only thing that will
eclipse this will be my victory at the world championships.” Lucifer captured
Yuuri’s lips in a searing kiss that made the younger man tremble and sag in his
arms, his eyes glazing over.
Around them, the screams intensified as blood splashed across the marble tiles
of the floor.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Rosier really couldn’t believe his luck. Or maybe he could. After all, having a
silver tongue meant that he made his own. The Russian Fairy was clinging to him
so desperately, his mind an absolute mess thanks to Uriel exercising some of
his divine powers to save the poor boy from certain death. It was obvious that
the angel had little to no experience with possessions; history showing that he
preferred to stay out of the way of mortals and only making an appearance when
victory was guaranteed.
He was a bit of a coward like that.
Rosier buried his nose in the soft, blond strands that smelled faintly of
vanilla. Yuri’s whole body gave off the sweet scent, stronger now that Uriel
had used his powers to knit together the slashed flesh and punctured organs.
The smell was positively delightfulmixed in with Yuri’s own personal scent; it
made the front of his tailored trousers uncomfortably tight.
“Why is this happening to me again?” Yuri sobbed as he clutched at his arms,
tear-stained face deliciously inviting, green eyes sparkling with moisture, the
ivory skin of his cheeks blooming with rosey colour.
“Again? Oh, my little fairy, this will be nothing like Luci’s hamfisted
attempts; I’ll make you sing sweeter than any canary. By the time I’m finished,
you won’t need Uri to be able to see the face of God and live... but I’m
definitely not going to be doing it on the bathroom floor.”
Rosier scooped Yuri into his arms, lifting him up, encouraging him to wrap his
thin legs around his waist. He gracefully stood, carrying the teenager over to
the sinks and depositing him onto the marble counter, pleased to find that the
height made things line up perfectly. He titled his pelvis forward, purring in
delight as his erection brushed up against the teenager’s, resulting in the
legs wrapped around his waist tightening, drawing him in closer. Yuri whined at
the friction, his forehead falling onto Rosier’s shoulder.
“Hush, mon choupinet,I promise that I’ll make it better soon. Just keep being
needy, your body tells me you want it. Just let go and give into it.” Rosier
slid a hand along Yuri’s jawline, cupping his face and tilting it upwards.
Rosier bent his head, drawing his nose along the underside of chin that was
exposed, breathing in deeply the scent of arousal and possession. “You smell
sweet. Like candy. I could eat you up…”
The stubble from the Swiss man’s beard scraped across Yuri’s sensitive skin,
making him shiver. They moved like an electric current that went straight to
his groin, erection jerking painfully. He could feel his face reddening, hot
tears beginning to prickle behind his eyes, threatening to spill forth. An
embarrassed whine escaped from his lips as they parted, eyelashes fluttering
against burning cheeks.
Those lips parted in subconscious invitation was an offer that couldn’t be
refused.
“Scheiße!” The German curse was harsh, contrasting with the soft melodic French
from earlier. Rosier crushed Yuri’s lips beneath his own in a bruising kiss,
cupping his hands under his arse and pulling the teen hard up against his own
straining erection. “Do you feel that?” He growled, “That’s how hot you make me
right now.” Rosier rolled his hips in emphasis as he captured Yuri’s lips in
another savage kiss.
Yuri couldn’t think straight. Rosier’s kisses were dizzying; would they be just
as effective if he had possessed anyone else? He could feel the heat Rosier’s
body emanating through his clothes, the smell of roses that was once cloying
and nauseating was now soft and alluring. He took a deep breath, the scent
washing over him, and stared into the faintly glowing green eyes, lost in the
promises they held.
Rosier’s hands moved purposefully, long fingers deftly undoing the their
trousers, freeing their taut flesh from the confines of their clothing. He
wrapped his hand around the both of them, drawing their flesh together.
“Ah,isn’t that better?” His voice a raspy purr in Yuri’s ear. “Your skin is
like velvet; so smooth and warm…” He dragged the edge of his forefinger over
the tip of Yuri’s cock with a throaty chuckle, collecting the precum that was
beginning to seep from it.
Yuri could only whimper and shudder as his sensitive skin was caressed. Why did
Rosier have to be so good at this? Where Lucifer’s touch was like fire that
ignited his body, Rosier’s was subtle, seeping into his very core. He could
feel himself unfurling much like a flower in bloom, desire opening up under a
lover’s skillful touch. His climax built, threatening to overtake him, and his
arms slipped around Rosier’s neck, clinging desperately as he moaned into
another passionate kiss. His  legs, wrapped around Rosier’s waist, were tensing
and tightening with each pump of his fist, his heels pressing against the top
of his hips, urging him closer.
“Getting impatient are we?” Rosier’s voice was getting husky with repressed
lust, as he held back his own release, whilst coaxing Yuri closer to his. “Sing
for me…”
Yuri's body jerked and shuddered. His release splashing against Rosier’s hand,
his mewling cries muffled as he buried his face into the broad expanse of
chest. He could only watch from the corner of his eye as Rosier brought the
thick fluid to his lips, his hot wet tongue snaking out to taste it.
“Hmmmm, vanilla cream. Looks like Uriel used up quite a bit of power to save
you.” Rosier purred as he adroitly removed Yuri's pants completely, leaving the
Russian teen naked from the waist down. The glowing green eyes devouring the
expanse of milky white flesh before spreading the pale thighs to display the
flush of colour between them. Rosier hooked his hands underneath Yuri’s knees
and tipped him backwards until he was resting against the bathroom mirror, the
curves of his bottom hanging over the edge of the marble counter.
Yuri could feel the long dexterous fingers probing at his entrance before one
slid in. “W-wait!” he protested. Despite not being prepared for it, it didn’t
hurt like the time with Viktor. Maybe this was… different.  
Rosier chuckled as he worked the finger inside him. “What’s the point of being
a demon if I can’t use a little magic?”
Yuri could only bite his lower lip as another finger seemed to slide in
effortlessly.
“I imagine, Luci being the brute that he is, didn’t bother with anything as
thoughtful as this…” Rosier’s dulcet tones continued to weave around him as his
fingers stroked him from the inside. “Are you ready mon choupinet?Your lustful
cries tell me that you can’t wait. Do you need it? Tell me now.”
Yuri could feel the heavy weight of Rosier’s cock against the inside of his
thigh. It felt much more substantial than Lucifer’s… was the Swiss Pervert
incredibly hung, or was that just more demonic magic at play?
Rosier arched an eyebrow, a sultry smile playing about his lips. “I see that
look, and believe me, there’s no magic involved with the equipment. What you
see here, is exactly as nature intended it to be.” He gave his hips an indecent
roll against Yuri’s own, holding apart his thighs as he lined the tip of his
cock up with the beckoning pink entrance. He couldn’t stop the low moan that
fell from his lips as he thrust inside. The teen’s tight embrace wrapping
around his flesh like warm silk. His eyes, lit from within by the luminous
green of possession bored into emerald green eyes that sparkled with unshed
tears and shimmered with an unspoken yearning. “ Ich will es dir besorgen.”
Yuri’s brows furrowed slightly at the unfamiliar German. The way the demon was
looking at him, he could only assume that it was something filthy. He could
feel himself clenching tightly around the hard length inside him, his muscles
rippling and spasming, seemingly grinding themselves against the rigid flesh
that rubbed against the parts of him that made him shudder and melt from
within.
Rosier adjusted his grip on Yuri’s thighs, fingers digging into the white skin,
leaving angry red marks in their wake. How nice would it be to mar that perfect
flesh, to leave his mark for all to see. He gave the boy a wicked grin, his
face flushed with the effort of holding himself in check. “I forgot to tell
you, not only am I responsible for seduction, but also love that is tainted.
For all the impure thoughts, the dirty old men stroking themselves over the
young boys. Those that dream of defiling virgins, taking pleasure in their
deflowering. All those fantasies where the guilt consumes them and they whisper
how they shouldn’t do it, into the darkness.” As he spoke, he punctuated each
detail with a languid thrust, shifting his hips so that the sensorial gland
within was grazed over and over.
Yuri couldn’t help but wrap his legs around Rosier’s plunging hips, locking his
ankles together to keep them joined. He whined in frustration, feeling empty
when the man withdrew, only to moan sweetly when he was filled once more. Every
time he dared to look into the eyes that threatened to devour him, he couldn’t
help feel that Rosier was looking for someone,the insistent stare that seemed
to look into his very soul for any secrets that he may have been hiding.
One secret.
“Uri…” Rosier crooned as he increased the pace of his thrusting. “Are you
enjoying this? Does this feel good? Your vessel is enjoying it; his cute little
cock is crying with joy!” He scooped up the dewey precum that leaked from the
tip, bringing it to his lips, sucking on his own fingers like it was the cock
in question.
Yuri could feel himself getting light headed, his nerves prickling so much that
his skin felt full of static. Everything seemed to focus on the delicious
friction that Rosier was generating, that made him feel like he would burst
like a spark of lightning. Needy words began to spill from his lips, harder,
faster, more; they echoed off the tiled walls, accentuated by panting breaths,
and the squeak of sweaty flesh as it moved against the marble countertop.
“Uuuuuurrrrriiiiiiiii.”
The call was insistent. Rosier’s voice called the angel’s name with a depth
that seemed to reverberate off the walls. It made made Yuri’s teeth ache even
as his nerve endings sizzled with each controlled thrust. He could feel the
summons pull at his insides, like the demon was reaching into his being and
grasping at his soul. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt all his muscles begin
to tense, a wordless cry falling from his lips.
He could never be sure what had happened at that moment. When his eyes finally
opened, his chest heaving and his muscles twitching in the aftermath, he could
smell the faint scent of burnt vanilla. Rosier’s cock was still inside him,
throbbing and pulsing, the sensation of warmth trickling from between his legs.
Rosier smiled down at him, pity and condescension warring on his face. “Ah,
meine Hure, the angel has left you all alone. He was too weak to fight against
me and has returned to the heavens either to lick his wounds or for
reinforcements. Either way, it doesn’t matter what he does, it will be too
late. A pity now, you don’t smell as sweet, nor your eyes as bright. But you
were still a good fuck. Ten out of ten, would do again. Even if you aren’t
possessed.”
Yuri’s face burned with shame. As full as he was feeling, he felt emptier than
he should have as Rosier withdrew his cock, leaving behind a dribbling, burning
ache. He could feel hot tears welling up, spilling over his cheeks, the
moisture doing nothing to cool his heated skin.
Twice now. That was twice that he was chewed up and spat out. Used as nothing
more than a plaything. He swallowed hard against the sob that was building in
his throat. There was no use crying; it would do nothing to ease the void he
felt opening up inside him, keening the loss of his irritating companion.
“Cheer up mon choupinet,not all is lost. You lived when you shouldn’t have.
Uri’s possession was a double edged sword; I’ve done you a favour whether you
realise it or not. When all of this is over, you’ll look back and thank me.”
Rosier cleaned the both of them up, lifting Yuri off the bench and helping him
back into his clothes. Cupping a hand under his chin, Rosier lifted the
teenager’s face to meet his gaze.
“Alas, my work here isn’t finished, and it seems I’ve developed a bit of a soft
spot for you. Try to stay alive; you wouldn’t want Uriel’s last gift to you to
go to waste.” Rosier adjusted his clothes, checking his reflection in the
mirror, and when satisfied, gave Yuri a lingering look, one reminisce of their
earlier hunger. Fishing in his pocket, he held out a card. “This is to my room,
you might actually be safer in there. Things are about to get a whole lot more
interesting.” With a wink he dropped the key into Yuri’s hand and left the
bathroom.
Yuri could only stare at the key, the plastic card was cool to his touch. He
didn’t know how to deal with the gnawing emptiness that was threatening to
consume him. Perhaps the demon was right; he would be safer hiding out in a
room that wasn’t his own, especially now that the angel and seemingly abandoned
him. He sniffed. The lingering smell of roses and burnt vanilla were slowly
fading into the air, like a scented candle that had long gone out.
 
                         X----X-----X-----X-----X----X
 
Viktor had dragged Yuuri away from the banquet hall with drugging kisses and
insistent hands. He felt like he’d been in a haze since moving to Russia; the
longer he spent with Viktor, the worse it seemed to get. It was almost like he
was losing his sense of self, and drowning in a thick viscous liquid, its
tendrils reaching out to grasp him and pull him under the surface.
But wasn’t Viktor… it was the strange dreams and nightmares, the lack of sleep
and loss of appetite, and the overtraining trying to escape from it all. Viktor
was his rock and his support through all of this, his warm touches that fuelled
a fire that smouldered within him, hotter than anything he’d felt before. If
the nightmares didn’t keep him awake, it was the burning need to have Viktor
fill him. The same need he was feeling now, stoked by the insistent kisses,
those searing kisses that burned white hot, straight to the aching, almost
painful erection he was now sporting.
He tried clearing his head, to shake the fog that swirled within, dampening
down his mind, but Viktor just smiled his smile, gave a laugh that made his
toes curl, and kissed him again, causing him to forget what he was so concerned
about before.
The banquet right? Yuri lying on the floor in a pool of blood…
No, wait… Yuri had just drunk too much right? Chris had carried him from the
room…
But people were screaming… No, just… laughing too loud…
He could hear himself moaning in response to Viktor’s tongue teasing the inside
of his mouth, in reaction to what felt like multiple hands, undoing his
clothes, moving across his skin, leaving incandescent trails across his skin.
The smell of cloves and spices and roses filled his nostrils, leaving him
gasping for air.
He blinked. Viktor’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the hotel room
that he couldn’t remember entering. There was a husky chuckle behind him. When
did Chris arrive? Why was he even here?
Yuuri swallowed thickly as Viktor’s deft hands moved over his chest, pinching
at the tight buds of his nipples. Chris’s long fingers slowly moved over the
skin of his hips, teasing him, never quite touching him in the places that
throbbed and ached in acknowledgement.
“Hush, Detochka. Just give into it. I told you we were going to celebrate my
win, and this is how I want to do it. I want to give you pleasure that you can
only dream about. So relax. Let go…”
There was something about Viktor’s voice that seeped into his consciousness. He
felt his limbs go lax, his body feeling blissfully heavy. All he had to do was
feel. Not think.
Ah Yuuri. Look at those bedroom eyes and those dewey lips. It’s no wonder that
I can’t keep my hands off you. Don’t you agree Rosier?
Rosier? Who was Rosier?
Yuuri opened his mouth to question, but all that he uttered was a keening wail
as he felt himself penetrated by something hot and heavy. “Vitya!” he gasped,
feeling himself opening up and accepting the hard length, who’s he did not
know, Viktor covering his mouth with his own and swallowing the mewling cries
that escaped from his throat, as he could feel someone beginning to thrust into
him, a slow rolling of the hips, and insistent hands coaxing him to move with
them.
He could feel a pressure building in his head as his sensitive flesh was
pinched hard, and then immediately soothed, with tongue and with fingers, to
the point where he didn’t know where his skin began or where it ended, his
whole being consumed by the sensations.
The thrusts became harder, more insistent, the slap of flesh against flesh rung
in his ears; a litany of harsh sounding words he didn't understand added to the
cacophony that was heavy breathing and moans of pleasure that were his own.
Warm smooth velvet skin rubbed against his cheek. He could smell the tang of
salt, from sweat and precum; pressure against his lips coaxing his mouth open.
He whimpered at the taste, of Viktor’s own special flavour, his tongue and lips
working along its length. His stomach clenched in response to the whispers of
encouragement and he could feel himself tightening, swelling. His cock
straining for release against the hands that stroked and caressed it.
He could feel the need rising within him, his body chasing the moment of
surrender.
He thrust his hips back; met with a grunt of approval, his reward was that
delicious hardness being plunged deep, a tumescence within him that made him
feel like he was being stretched to breaking, and a sharp slap on his arse. He
moaned shamelessly around the cock in his mouth, sucking greedily at it, strong
fingers twisted in his hair and urged him on; and suddenly he could taste it.
The warm salt that was Viktor flooded his mouth, and he swallowed it down like
it was his last meal on earth. The grip on his hips strengthened to bruising
pressure, the thrusting wild and erratic; with a shout his insides were
flooded, the warmth oozing from his hole and leaking down the back of his legs.
Do you think there’s room in there for one more?
Yuuri looked upwards, mouth still around Viktors cock that showed no signs of
going flaccid, sticky ejaculate seeping from the corners of his mouth; it
seemed that he hadn’t been able to swallow everything after all. Viktors hand
cupped his face, thumb rubbing tenderly over his cheek as he made minute
thrusts into his mouth. Yuuri could feel the head of Viktor’s cock rubbing
against the roof of his mouth. He closed his eyes and whimpered at the
sensations, his own cock twitching and dribbling precum beneath them.
Long fingers reached for him, wrapped themselves around his aching flesh and
gave his cock a squeeze. He thrust his hips forward into that hand, rubbing
himself into it, coaxing it to give him the release he was seeking, his body
trembling with the effort.
It didn’t seem to matter how much he was rubbed, how much he was stimulated.
His release just would not come.
“Viiiiiiktooooooor,” he whined, tears forming, welling up and spilling over his
cheeks, hands reaching for his lover’s body, clutching at him in desperation.
Ice blue eyes that seemed to glow in the shadows of the room looked down at
him, drawing him into their gaze. The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upwards
and he gave Yuuri a grin that seemed to be all teeth.
 
"Hmmm, er hat es wirklich nötig."
"Unser Lustmolch hat wohl noch nicht genug. Denkst du woran ich denke?"
"Chris, du geiler Stecher, ich bin mir ziemlich sicher, das es ihm gefallen
wird!"
 
Yuuri blinked at the unfamiliar words as Viktor placed a hand in the centre of
his chest, and pushed him against the unyielding body behind him. Hands reached
for him, sliding down his thighs, taking hold of him, and lifting him up,
positioning him so that he was on his back, resting against Chris’s torso;
Yuuri realised that Chris had remained inside him the whole time. His hole
spasmed in response, Chris groaning and muttering something in his ear, his
facial hair rubbing across the sensitive flesh of his ear and making his skin
prickle with goosebumps.
Yuuri’s cock shuddered and jerked, precome oozing freely, bubbling up from his
slit and oozing down the sides of his straining flesh. Viktor placed his hands
on Yuuri’s knees and pushed them wide, his hungry scrutiny making Yuuri twitch
and tremble even more. He watched, open mouthed, panting in need, as Viktor
eased himself forward, hand around his own cock to hold it steady as he pushed
the blunt head against his hole, the hole that was already filled with Chris’s
own pulsing member.  
He winced; whimpered in protest that it wasn’t going to fit, that there was no
way that he could take the two of them at the same time.
With a predatory smile, Viktor shoved it in anyway.
Chris’s hand snaked around and clamped over his mouth, stifling the scream that
was torn from his throat. Hot words were whispered in his ear, words that made
his body twitch and writhe, accepting Viktors length inside him; while his mind
screamed it’s agony as Viktor worked his cock into his abused hole until he
heard Chris’s voice rumble through him: I can feel your nuts against mine Luci,
it’s kinda hot.
The temperature in the room dropped. The shadows in the corner of the room
seemed to flicker. Viktor’s eyes glowed brightly in the gloom, and for Yuuri,
time seemed to slow to a crawl. He watched wide-eyed as one of the shadows
detached itself from the others and came closer, coalescing as it did, taking
on human form. Red eyes smouldered in the darkness as features took shape.
Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. His skin began to tingle, the fine hairs
on his body standing on end. He watched as Viktor threw his head back and
shuddered; Chris arching his body underneath him, driving his cock in further,
deeper. Both of them swelling impossibly large inside him, making him feel like
he was being stretched to breaking. All three of them breathing heavily from
the pressure the stranger seems to exert over them.
The newcomer smiled, cold and soulless, their hand reaching out towards him. A
long, delicate looking finger slowly ran up the length of his cock. As it
reached the tip, Yuuri felt his entire body go into a paroxysm of release, a
shuddering cry ripped from him as his back arched so hard he thought he would
break in half, hot white strands spattering across his body. Moments later, he
could feel the two men inside him pulse and throb, their groans mingling with
his own as they emptied themselves within him.
Yuuri could only watch helplessly, his limbs languid in the aftermath, as the
stranger approached them.
A musky scent hung in the air, like jasmine, or cedar… the smell of Viktor’s
sweat after he skated; he could feel heat pooling in the pit of his stomach,
suffusing his limbs, making them even heavier, the only thing stirring was his
cock as it slowly swelled and rose once more.
Glad you could finally join us Asmodeus…
Yuuri blinked. Struggled to lift his head to turn towards Viktor. Viktor
sounded different. Like his voice was layered; like there was more than one of
him speaking. Who was Asmodeus?
A face appeared above his own, delicate fine features that looked as if they
were carved from marble. A face so alluring that he felt his body continue to
respond, his cock straining hard, despite the panic that was welling up inside
him. He felt Chris and Viktor disengage themselves, slowly sliding free of him.
He couldn’t help the small cry of dismay that escaped him, the visceral
response to being left empty and aching… a beguiling smile crossed those
perfect lips and Yuuri could feel himself being drawn in.
The face drew closer, those flawless lips parting slightly as they brushed
against his own.
Yuuri could only sigh as he felt himself sink into the depths the kiss offered
him. It fanned the flames that burned within him until he was responding with a
fervour that he felt would consume him if he let it.
Let go, my love…
He felt himself fall.
 
                          X----X----X----X----X----X
 
Limbs graceful and toned stretched themselves as if he were a cat. He sat up,
large, doe-like eyes blinked slowly, taking in their surroundings.
So glad you could join us my dear.
A hand under his chin tilted his face upwards to look into his eyes...
Eyes that were dark brown with honey tones that were now tinged with red.
 
                                     FIN.
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