
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11666205.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Jean-Jacques_Leroy/Yuri_Plisetsky, Otabek_Altin/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Yuri_Plisetsky, Jean-Jacques_Leroy, Otabek_Altin
  Additional Tags:
      Pliroy, otayuri_-_Freeform, Cheating, blindfold, concealed_identity_sex,
      Long_Distance_Sex, Angst
  Series:
      Part 12 of please_please_please_let_me_get_what_I_want_this_time
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-31 Words: 1827
****** he has eyes and yet he does not see ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     Yuri pretends not to know who is fucking him.
Yuri was naked, blindfolded, tied to a chair and ready. Someone was walking
around him, touching his shoulders, his face, he opened his mouth when they
reached his lips so he could taste his fingers, then they stopped in front of
him. He could hear the nylon swish just before this person pushed his legs
further apart and their mouth - their mouth - Oh, god! The way he sucked Yuri,
so hard! The way he tugged at his nuts! The way he touched his thigh, tracing
little lines up and down, lightly, lightly… The way he touched his face when he
started to moan... And then he -
Oh, fuck! Yuri couldn't move, couldn't see, didn't know who, why. All he could
do was whine and come and come and come as this person swallowed every drop.
He stood up when it was over. Touched Yuri's face and lingered on his lips so
he could taste his finger one more time. It was as close as they ever came to
kissing. He patted Yuri's cheek, then cut the rope. Yuri knew the rules. He
never asked who he was, and waited until he was gone to take off the blindfold.
There was a message taped to the hotel door, written in English: see you next
time.
++
He was jerking off in the toilet stall. It was stupid and it was risky but he
had no choice because fifteen snuck up on him like a bitch in the locker room.
Again. He couldn't put his dance belt on when he was hard, and he definitely
wasn't going to give the others the satisfaction of seeing him like this -
especially that asshole, JJ. It was his fault Yuri was in this state. His fault
for bending over in those stupid bright red briefs. With that tight ass Yuri
wanted to take a bite out of. And that tramp stamp that looked like a target.
Fuck! He would come all over that fucking stupid JJ logo and smear his jizz all
over it. And then he'd take a great, big, satisfying bite on his right ass
cheek and sink his teeth right in. Oh, man! And what if he -
Someone slipped a note under the stall door. Yuri immediately stopped. What the
fuck was this?
i can help you with that
His face felt like it was on fire. Someone knew - how? - and someone was
crossing the motherfucking line. He balled it up and tossed that shit in the
toilet. Well, fuck them. Yuri wasn't about to get into something with any of
those losers. He was in this rink to practice. He was in Montreal to win. Not
fuck around and games like Viktor and his Katsudon. Skate Canada was as good as
his, and this asshole with his note could go eat some other dick.
There was a knock.
“Get lost.”
Practice was fucked because he was half hard, wondering who the hell was
fucking with his head.
++
Yuri knows who he is, but he refuses to acknowledge this. He doesn't have a
name when he's messaging him on this Mr Anonymous sock account. He's
oractifally this figment of his imagination who makes videos of himself jerking
off and demands Yuri reciprocate in realtime as he watches. Which he does.
He doesn't have a name when he slips a note under his hotel room door, with a
blindfold, telling him to be ready in ten minutes, naked, with his back turned
and the door unlocked.
He never speaks. He never leaves clues. He never indicates who he is when Yuri
is practicing on the rink before competition, during competition, or standing
at the podium. It's like this guy doesn't exist outside Yuri's imagination.
Yuri is on his laptop, watching the video as he films his reaction. He doesn't
even try to control the faces he must be making, even though he's probably
gasping like a little girl over this huge, uncut dick being pumped for him. Mr
Anonymous never brings that stuff up. He only gives orders: open the file// do
what i do. And he does, he is, he's jerking himself off, beat per beat, and
he's remembering the time that huge thing was pressed against his lips, back in
Barcelona. And how hot it felt, and how those hands grabbed the back of his
head and gagged him on it, and how he smeared the come across Yuri’s lips, like
gloss.
Yuri comes all over himself when the man shoots his load, and licks his own
come off his hand, remembering what Mr Anonymous’ tastes like, before he hits
send. In a few minutes he sees one message from the sock: see you next time
Yuri leans over to grab some Kleenex for whatever he doesn't lick off. “Yeah,
whatever.” Mr Anonymous is not exactly the postcoital type.
++
Otabek had a trick; he could literally sip the breath out of Yuri when they
kissed. Yuri didn't realize what he was doing at first; all he knew was he got
real light headed after a few minutes with him on the couch. Then it went away
as soon as Otabek let up and smiled. Yuri gasped for air.
“Are you a virgin?” His finger traced Yuri's lips. Would he stop if Yuri said
no? Otabek tilted his head and watched Yuri's mouth as it trembled. “You act
like a virgin.”
What would he say if he knew Yuri was on his hands and knees last week at the
Helsinki competition, with a vibrating bullet up his ass and on high, and mouth
crammed full of dick? What if he knew the bullet came the day before, with
instructions to put it in and walk around with it all day, so Mr Anonymous
could turn it on at any given time? At one point, while Yuri was sitting on his
practice bench after his short program practice, scrolling through his
Snapchat, when it went off, full blast. He clutched his phone, sucked in his
breath, and pulled his hoodie over his face as his dick throbbed and his balls
got so heavy he thought his voice was going to drop two octaves. What would he
say if he knew Yuri was instructed to wait in a dark, cramped closet at the
Helsinki banquet until this faceless guy showed up, pulled the bullet out, bent
him over a box, yanked pants around his ankles, and fuck him up the ass while
the other skaters were just a few meters away, laughing over champagne?
What would he say if he knew Yuri was being fucked for more than a year by
someone he couldn't name?
“Straddle my lap.” Yuri did. “Take your shirt off.” Otabek did, too. His skin
was smooth, his body was firm, just like Mr Anonymous. Yuri moaned and he
closed his eyes when Otabek touched his chest. His hands were warm and he kept
moving them all over his pecs, his belly, his nipples. “Look at me?” He
couldn't. He was used to being blindfolded. “Please?” He shook his head. It was
impossible.
++
The world decided Yuri and Otabek were boyfriends and Otabek decided it was a
good idea. He always called him after Yuri's practice. Never spent more than an
hour on the phone, and managed to say he loved him at least one time, every
time. It should've felt good.
Sometimes he told himself Otabek was Mr Anonymous. He knew it wasn't possible.
Otabek was thousands of kilometers away when some of those encounters took
place. And his body was only similar, not a match. But he still tried to tell
himself he believed it when he was getting messages from Mr Anonymous.
pics fingering yourself
vid jerking yourself off
do it again// make more noise bc i want to hear you
He could tell himself that during the between times in the shower, laying on
his mattress, in the early morning rhythm of his morning jogs. But there was no
room to lie when he was in those moments with Mr Anonymous. He crowded Yuri
with his presence, whether it was on a screen or in person, until Yuri didn't
even have room for himself. All he could think about was him. And then he would
leave.
Yuri wanted to believe. He needed to believe, so he wouldn't trip over his
skates every time he went out in the ice, imagining the look on Otabek's face
if he wasn't - no, he had to be.
Yuri checked his phone. There were two messages. The first was Otabek. He
closed his eyes, then pulled down his pants. He was responding to the second
one, first.
++
He lost two points over rotating his quad Salchow during his short program and
he was competing against Leroy at Skate America. He couldn't afford to be
distracted, especially when the bastard was practically flying over the ice
during practice.
Yakov bitched and Yuri had no idea what he was even saying. All he could think
about in the kiss and cry was the message he just got on his phone.
room 443 8pm be naked
JJ dominated the short program and Mr Anonymous dominated Yuri. He pushed him
into the mattress, blindfolded face down, touching every part of him, shoving
his fingers deep inside of Yuri until he sobbed and begged him for relief.
“Make it stop! Please just make it stop!” He was so good at pushing all the
lies and failures away. So good, like a drug.
This time, he felt that hand tremble. He heard that breath hitch. Suddenly Yuri
was left with nothing but the cold air on his back. Clothes rustled and Yuri
knew he messed up, because Mr Anonymous was leaving.
No - please no. This was the only good thing that was going to happen to him
today. The only place and time where he couldn't lie.
Yuri sat up and did something he shouldn't have done. He turned around, took
off his blindfold and he saw a red track suit and an undercut. Then the door
closed. He was gone.
He knew it. He fucking knew it. Yuri fell back into the mattress and screamed
into the pillow. It was over.
++
He tells Otabek he loves him, every day. Not just with words but with little
things; he links him articles about Depeche Mode, New Order and motorcycles.
When they're in the same city Yuri spends as much time as he can with him,
riding around on rented bikes, taking coffees and teas and talking about
nothing and everything until they rush back to one of their rooms so Otabek can
kiss him breathless until he's naked and spread out for him like a banquet.
And when he's underneath Otabek? When he's coming and wailing and grasping for
skin or sheets or anything in reach? His eyes are closed. He can't see Otabek's
face, and Yuri is lying to himself. He never stopped.
  Works inspired by this one
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