
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12679167.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Victor_Nikiforov/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Victor_Nikiforov, Yuri_Plisetsky
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Glove_Kink, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-10 Words: 2154
****** Gloves ******
by Phayte
Summary
     Victor jerks Yuri off-- wearing his gloves.
Notes
     Thank you so much for going over this Icicle!! Cause we know I would
     never have posted this and the grammar would have been shit!
See the end of the work for more notes
Yuri was running late and risked being yelled at yet again as he barreled
through the doors of the skating arena. Bending over, he gasped for air and
clutched at his knees, but he had made it on time. Lately, Yakov had been all
over him about being punctual.
“Just in time.” Victor laughed as he patted Yuri’s back, walking by him.
“Yeah, well you don’t get bitched at for being late,” Yuri hissed out.
Victor laughed as he casually walked to the locker room to change.
“YURI!” the loud voice of Yakov echoed around the arena. “YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES
TO GET YOUR ASS ON THE ICE!”
It was going to be a long day.
Yakov screamed at him all day. Yuri felt he was doing well, but Yakov swore he
could do better.
Yuri grumbled as he grabbed for his water bottle. “I don’t need this damn
training! I won gold! I can just go skate and win!”
“Well, aren’t we modest today,” Victor said as he sat next to Yuri, taking his
water bottle from him, draining it quickly.
“Hey asshole! That was my water!” 
Victor smiled and ran his gloved thumb under his lip. “Yeah, thanks!”
Yuri growled as Victor went back to the ice, landing a quad flip. He hated how
perfect Victor fucking Nikiforov was. He hated how he landed his stupid jumps;
he hated how he just practiced with no arguing, how Yakov  never  yelled at
him.
“YURI! BREAK IS OVER!” Yakov screamed.
He hated how Victor was already on the ice.
Yakov never let off  him. Yuri was thankful when it was all over. He was tired
and all he wanted  was to get the hell out of there. Almost everyone else had
left as Yuri finally made his way to the locker room. He wanted to change his
clothing as they were soaked through with sweat.
Sitting on the bench in the locker room, Yuri flipped through his social media
as he laid back against the hard, cold wood. Nothing interesting had happened,
so he groaned at the ceiling.
“Oh, it’s not that bad, is it?” Victor asked as he walked by— naked, very
naked.
Yuri gulped and tried not to stare. Victor was drying his hair; water droplets
clung to his body and the hard lines only drew his attention further down.
Usually, Victor had a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked around the
locker room (not that the man had any shame), but today was different. Yuri’s
gaze went lower, to the hard abs, the silver trail of hair under his navel, all
the way down where silver pubes were trimmed neatly and a large, soft cock
rested.
Yuri gulped and diverted his eyes from looking at Victor’s cock, dangling
between his legs. Standing up, Yuri grabbed his bag and ran to the showers.
“Yuri?” Victor asked as he went quickly to the shower in the back and pulled
the curtain shut. Turning the water on, Yuri left it cold and peeled his sweaty
clothes off. Throwing them off to the side, Yuri stood under the cold water,
willing his cock to stop swelling between his legs.
Yuri groaned, but what was seen could not be unseen. He was always curious
about what was under Victor’s towel-- and sure, he had seen cocks before. Most
of the guys walked around with towels on and then dried off at their locker.
Seeing cocks was nothing. But seeing Victor’s cock was something different. 
Groaning, Yuri gave up and wrapped his hand around his cock. Leaning back on
the cold tile, he pulled at his dick, and in a few quick pulls, released on the
shower floor.
Victor fucking Nikiforov.
 
===============================================================================
 
Yuri tried to get Victor out of his mind, even as he flopped on his bed that
night to go to bed. The next day back on the ice, he could not even look
Victor’s way.
Victor’s pants were way too tight around his crotch, and his shirt fit him all
too well. He found himself peeking glances at Victor as he skated around the
ice. Hating how damn good looking the idiot was, hating how round his ass was
as he did his spins and turns. Hating how much he was looking forward to shower
time.
Yuri fell again on his quad jump and Yakov yelled at him to take a break.
Glancing over, Victor was leaning back on the wall; his back arched as he
talked with Georgi, who was on break, sitting down.
Those pants Victor wore only seemed to outline his muscles more.
Yuri slipped his guards on and stomped off to the lockers. He had a good
fifteen minutes before Yakov would be looking for him again and he needed to
get his mind off Victor’s cock.
Thankful that no one was in the locker room, Yuri went over to the back row of
lockers, in the corner, and pulled his leggings down, right under his balls. He
watched as his cock was already half hard, just hanging heavy.
“Stupid fucking Victor,” Yuri said as he wrapped his hand around his cock. His
gloves on his hands were still cold and damp from the many falls he had
endured, but he liked the contrast in temperature on his shaft.
Usually, he would pull his glove off, but he had mastered how to get himself
off quickly, and just wanted it over with. Leaning his head back, knocking in
on the steel locker behind him, he closed his eyes and thought about Victor’s
large cock.
He had to wonder just how full it would get when fully hard. Could it get any
bigger than it already was? Would the head of Victor’s cock peak out the
foreskin? Would it be red like his was? The more Yuri thought about what it
would look like, the harder he pulled and the more his cock hardened in his
gloved hand.“Yuri?”
Victor fucking Nikiforov .
Letting go of his cock, Yuri tried to pull his leggings back up. They were damp
from sweating and falling on the ice and had rolled funny.  They were not
pulling back up.  Yuri turned his back and cursed at his pants.
“Yuri, stop,” Victor said as he stepped forward. “You are far too rough with
yourself.”
“What the hell do you know?” Yuri hissed out, one of his fingers slipping out
the glove, the lycra stretching funny at the palm. Yuri cursed and used his
teeth to grab at the wrist of his glove and ripped it off.
A hand on his shoulder turned him so his back was against the locker. Victor
towered over him, his body casting a shadow down on him.
“You really should do this before you come to practice,” Victor said.
Yuri glared up at Victor. His cock was covered partly by his shirt, but his
pants were still not on right. He wanted to get out of Victor’s shadow: he was
all too close. The deep V of his shirt, highlighting his tight pectorals as
sweat drops ran down his neck. Yuri stared at the lines of moisture coming down
Victor’s neck, wanting to reach up on his tip toes and lick at it.
“Your mind is elsewhere today,” Victor said.
“I’m fine,” Yuri spit out.
“You fell on a triple axle. You have not done that in two years.”
“Having an off day,” Yuri said as he reached up to push at Victor’s chest,
feeling the hard muscles as he pushed-- Victor did not move.
“You don’t have off days,” Victor said.
“Leave me alone!” Yuri growled out, trying to push at Victor’s chest again.
Victor still had his gloves on, cold but not wet from the ice. Grabbing Yuri’s
wrist, he pulled them off his chest and stood there. Yuri noticed how thin his
wrists were in Victor’s hands. He noticed how small he was up against Victor.
Victor was staring down at him, his aqua eyes fixed on him. Shaking out of
Victor's grip, Yuri smacked his hands away.
A gloved finger under his chin tipped his face up and Yuri growled. Victor
chuckled but did not remove his hand.
“Maybe I should leave you to it,” Victor said, cocking his eyebrow.
Yuri wanted to look away, but Victor’s hand stayed firm on his jaw, holding his
sight in place. Beads of sweat gathered between Victor’s eyes, as one trailed
down the side of his face from his temple. Yuri closed his eyes and tried not
to think of the heat that was radiating off Victor, or the sweat beading on his
body that he wanted to lick off.
Taking a deep breath when Victor’s glove left his chin, he felt less closed in
as Victor stepped back. Even as those aqua eyes looked him over, slowly up and
down, Yuri shivered under that gaze.
One hand was gloved, the other naked; Yuri’s hands trembled as he pulled at his
leggings, freeing his cock again. Having Victor so close, his clothes so tight,
imagining his cock-- Yuri wrapped the gloved hand back around his shaft and
started to stroke it.
“You are too hard on yourself,” Victor said, his voice lower than he
remembered.
“Think you can do better?” Yuri asked.
It was all Victor needed to hear. Stepping forward, his gloved hand reached
out, taking Yuri’s wrist again, gently pulling it away from his cock. Yuri
could feel his chest heaving as he breathed harder.
Victor looked down as Yuri stood there, his cock pink and flushed. A gloved
hand reached out and long fingers wrapped around his shaft; the smooth lycra
engulfed his cock. He could not help but gasp at the contact. Victor’s hand was
so large and warm around him.
Victor did not hold him tightly, but Yuri knew it would not take long, just
knowing someone else was holding his cock-- even if it was through a gloved
hand.
His foreskin being gently pulled down, Yuri knew he would leak all over
Victor’s gloves.
“You’re going to ruin your gloves,” he breathed out.
“I have more in my bag,” Victor said as he stood over him, lightly fisting his
cock.
Gloved fingers teased at his ball sack and Yuri’s banged his head against the
locker as he moaned.
“Careful,” Victor said.
“Don’t fucking talk,” Yuri breathed out.
A small laugh rumbled in Victor’s chest as he continued to stroke gently at
Yuri’s cock. Moving his hips, Yuri wanted more-- needed more.
“Slow down,” Victor said as Yuri tried to thrust into his fist.
“I said shut up!”
Victor tightened his grip; his glove added a different sensation than his palm
or his wet glove did. It was smooth; it was warm; he was getting so close.
When Yuri moaned softly, a gloved finger pulled at his bottom lip, making him
look back up, seeing Victor stare down at him. Opening his mouth, the gloved
finger entered his mouth. It tasted like fabric-- like the the collar of his
old tshirt he chewed as he watched television at night. It made his tongue dry
as he moistened the gloved finger in his mouth.
Victor hooked his finger in his cheek, pulling his lips awkwardly to the side,
though his fist tightened around his cock. Yuri moaned out a muffled groan
around around the gloved finger in his mouth and thrusted when his foreskin was
pulled down again.
“You blush beautifully when you are aroused,” Victor said.
Yuri growled, and tried to tell him to fuck off, but another gloved finger was
thrusted into his mouth. Choking, Yuri felt his cock being pulled harder,
tighter. He tried to moan, but Victor kept his fingers deep into his mouth.
Yuri had to breath through his nose as he felt his orgasm approaching. Victor
stroked him again, his glove smooth and soft. A final moan around the fingers
in his mouth and his orgasm washed over him.
Victor removed the fingers from his mouth, stroking him through it till Yuri
hissed out. It was starting to hurt. Looking down, his cock was half hard and
Victor’s gloves were ruined. A kiss on the top of his head, and Victor removed
his hand from his cock and stepped back. Pulling the glove to his mouth, his
teeth bit at the fingertips, and pulled them off. He slipped off his other
glove and rolled them together, walking to his locker.
Yuri just leaned against the locker, his chest heaving as his cock slowly
deflated.  He watched as Victor pulled his shirt off and reached into his
locker, getting another shirt. His back was to Yuri, but he could not take his
eyes off the way his muscles moved as he pulled another tight tshirt on and
tuned to face him.
“Break is over,” Victor said with a wink.
Yuri swore the V neck of this shirt was even lower.
 
 
End Notes
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     Phayte <3
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