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Yuuri stared at the mirror, wondering how the hell he was supposed to go through with this.
He wished he could claim that it had been somebody else's idea – Chris or Phichit, or maybe Minako after a few too many drinks. But no, the idea had been his and his alone. He'd gone to the boutique himself, picked out the piece himself, bought it with his own money, and even managed to force himself to make eye contact with the cashier for two whole seconds before scurrying out, praying that nobody would recognize him with that dainty powder blue bag clutched in his hands.
He wasn't sure what had made him want to do it. Maybe he felt like he had something to prove. Maybe he was curious. Maybe he just wanted to feel sexy again, dammit, even if it was just for a few minutes in front of the mirror.
So far, it wasn't working so well.
Yuuri was accustomed to his fair share of insecurities, and he'd never hated his body by any means. He didn't mind the stretch marks on his stomach and thighs, or the fact that his wardrobe consisted of everything from form-fitting spandex to sweatshirts large enough to drown in. Sure, he had to endure a little light-hearted teasing from family and friends when he inevitably went up a few sizes in the off-season, but the weight came off almost as easily as it went on, so he'd never seen it as too much of a problem as far as his career was concerned.
But that didn't mean he particularly liked the way his belly protruded out and hung over the tops of his thighs, or the way his chest jiggled a little too noticeably when he hurried down the stairs, or the way he felt like he was constantly tugging his pants up and his shirt down. They were all things that he had gotten used to after years of enduring the inevitable fluctuations in his weight, but they didn't exactly do much for his self-esteem.
Or his sex-appeal.
He still wanted sex just as much as always, but it had gotten rarer as he'd gotten heavier. Not for Victor's lack of trying, of course. But when they did have sex, it was always with the lights off, and it got boring fast.
Thus, his trip to the boutique. Though now that he had it on, his confidence was starting to wane.
A knock on the bathroom door made him jump, and he slammed a hand against it before Victor could try the handle. “Yuuri? Are you still in there?” There was a worried edge to his voice – Yuuri could practically hear the furrow in his brow. “Are you alright?”
“Fine!” he yelped, swallowing thickly. He forced a smile. “I'll just be another minute...go back and wait on the bed.”
Victor chuckled on the other side of the door. “The anticipation is murder, you know. Just what are you planning?”
“Y-you'll see.” He tried to make the words playful, but they came out sounding just this side of hysterical. “You just have to be patient.”
“Don't keep me waiting too long, Yuuri,” Victor purred, and Yuuri's heart started to pound as he heard those footsteps fade down the hall.
God, what had he gotten himself into? Victor was certainly expecting something, but the more he stared at himself in the mirror, the more the idea started to feel ridiculous. The last thing he wanted was to make an idiot of himself and ruin their first anniversary, especially after the dinner that Victor had surprised him with at the best restaurant in St. Petersburg.
He sighed, curling his fingers against the sink and debating whether or not he should take the damn thing off, forget the bells and whistles, and go spend the night making love to his husband without any distractions.
But no, he'd put too much into this to back down now. He was tired of feeling boring and clunky. He missed his confidence. He missed feeling sexy, and it just didn't seem fair that he should have to wait until he was slimmer to get that back.
He propped his leg up on the edge of the tub and tugged the stockings up the length of his thigh, securing them in place with the tight black garters by his hip. He ran a hand down along the silky fabric from his knee to his ankle and took a steadying breath. The bow below his belly button was the finishing touch, and he made sure it was straight before taking one last lingering look at himself in the mirror.
Black had seemed boring at first, but the flash of red on the bow over his groin had sold him in a heartbeat. It had reminded him immediately of the sexually charged eros costume he'd worn on the ice under Victor's instruction, and the thought of it still made him smile. For good measure, he reached up and ran a hand through his own hair, still damp from the shower, and slicked it back as best he could.
No more turning back, he thought to himself, and with one more breath, he opened the bathroom door and headed down the hall to the bedroom.
The room was dim by the time he pushed the door open. Victor was waiting on the bed, sprawled out on his back with one arm folded behind his head on the pillows. He scrolled absently through his phone, humming some tune that Yuuri couldn't recognize, and only looked over when the light from the hallway spilled onto the mattress.
“There you are, Yuuri,” he said with a grin as he put his phone on the bedside table. “What took you...so...”
Yuuri bit his lip, leaning against the doorframe and trying to project every ounce of confidence he had lacked lately into the tilt of his hips. “Surprise,” he said, his eyes half-lidded and his voice wavering on its way out.
Victor's jaw all but hit the floor.
“Yuuri...” he breathed, like he'd just run a sprint. “You're...that's...”
“You like it?” Yuuri asked him. He stepped inside and closed the door, hoping the darkness of the room would hide the pink tint in his cheeks. “I, ah...I wanted to do something special. It's our first anniversary after all, and...”
“No more talking,” Victor insisted. He'd moved to the edge of the bed, holding out a hand. “Come here, Yuuri.”
His voice was low and rough, and even without his glasses or much light, as Yuuri took a few steps closer, he could see just how hungry Victor was. Hungry for him.
He stopped just a step away from Victor, reveling in the whine it drew out of his husband's throat. “So you do like it,” he said, smirking as he toyed with the hem of one of the stockings. The silky material was soft against his skin, tight on his thighs – it made his skin tingle with every movement.
Victor didn't seem to want to wait anymore, and he leaned forward to press his hands against Yuuri's hips and tug him forward, until Yuuri was standing between his parted legs. “Is this what you were planning?” he asked, thumb stroking against the edge of the lacy black underwear. “Trying to seduce me?”
“Maybe,” Yuuri teased. It felt more natural with every passing moment as his nerves began to fade. He still fought the urge to flinch when Victor's fingers dug into the soft flesh of his thighs, but he didn't have long to think about it when Victor pulled him close enough for Yuuri to feel him already hard and pressing against his hip.
Yuuri leaned in to press his mouth against Victor's, humming against it and pushing on Victor's chest. Victor fell backwards easily, resting on his back on the mattress and gazing up at Yuuri with excitement and glee shining in his eyes. “How long were you planning this?” he asked, laughing as he reached up to skim his fingers against Yuuri's thigh, over the fabric. “Were you keeping this little number stashed away somewhere?”
“It was more of a spur of the moment thing,” Yuuri admitted, feeling his cheeks heating up again. “I wanted to do something memorable.”
“Oh, Yuuri, as if I could ever forget this.” Victor ran his hands down the length of Yuuri's body, making him shiver as those long, slim fingers dragged across every dip and curve of his flesh. The rested on Yuuri's hips, thumbs stroking teasingly against the lacy fringe lining the hem of his underwear. “You're a vision in that, you know. Did you look at yourself in the mirror?” He smirked playfully up at him. “Put on a little show?”
Yuuri scoffed. “Of course not. I mean, of course I looked at myself when I put it on, but...” He felt the urge to pull away, to hide, and he fought against it. He matched Victor's smirk instead, wrapping his fingers around Victor's wrist and bringing it to his mouth so that he could drop a kiss on his knuckle. “I wanted to save the show for you, Vitya.”
Victor visibly shivered.
He shimmied backward onto the bed, resting against the pillows, and Yuuri straddled him carefully. He was hyper-aware of the way the silk dragged over every inch of his skin and of the way the lace caught on the hair under his naval. “Stay like this,” Victor pleaded, and his hands resting firmly on Yuuri's hips. “Right here. I want to see you, Yuuri...my Yuuri.”
Nowhere in his plan for the evening was there any possibility of him hiding under the covers tonight. He'd put too much effort into mustering up the courage to put the frilly thing on in the first place to waste it in the dark. But it was the desperation in Victor's voice that caught him by surprise, like he was going to go crazy if he didn't get to take in every inch of him before the night was over.
He smiled, warmer this time, and he nodded as he leaned in to kiss his husband properly, feeling Victor sigh against his mouth. “Touch me,” he breathed as he pulled away, just enough to get the words out.
Victor was already ahead of him, his hands skimming down over his stomach – making Yuuri flinch when he brushed against one of the more ticklish spots over his hip – and cupping him over the soft satiny material covering his groin. Yuuri bit his lip, rocking against him, realizing just how thin the fabric was. There may as well have been nothing at all separating him from Victor's touch.
He pressed down against Victor's groin, feeling him pressing insistently against the back of his thigh. Victor let out a groan and arched up under him. “How much longer are you going to torture me?” he whined.
“Torture?” Yuuri laughed. “I thought you were enjoying it. It sure feels like you are.”
“And so are you, if I'm not mistaken.” He made Yuuri gasp with a possessive little squeeze. He was right – he was already starting to get harder in his underwear, the fabric quickly getting tighter over his crotch as Victor rubbed him.
His voice came out rough, almost like a sigh when he said, “Take it off.”
“But how could I, when you look so incredible?” He was laughing as he sucked marks onto Yuuri's neck, making him want to squirm. No, it was Yuuri's turn to tease – he was not going to hand over the upper hand so easily.
“You're right,” he sighed, and he pushed himself up, feeling Victor's mouth release from his skin with a wet little pop. Victor blinked up at him, eyes wide with anticipation as his hands lingered on Yuuri's hips. “I told you I'd give you a show, didn't I?”
Victor swallowed. “Yuuri-”
Yuuri pressed a finger against Victor's lips, silencing him. “Lie back,” he said. All it took was a light touch of the tips of his fingers to Victor's chest for him to relax against the pillows, hair splayed out behind his head like a platinum halo.
As an afterthought, he plucked Victor's hands from his waist and let them drop on the mattress on either side of him. “And no touching this time.”
Victor groaned, unfamiliar Russian tumbling from his lips. It sounded profane.
Yuuri's face was flushed and hot, warmth radiating down through his chest and stomach as he leaned over to the bedside table. The bottle was right where they'd left it, and he fumbled with it a bit as he grabbed it and flipped open the cap.
“Remember,” he breathed as cool lubricant dripped down over his fingers, “No touching.”
Victor bit his lip and groaned, but nodded.
Yuuri's breath came in shaking little gasps as he pushed himself up on his knees. He didn't think he'd ever been this hard in his life, pressing insistently against the thin material covering his crotch, but Victor was already twice as much a mess. His husband's cheeks were flushed, his lips lightly parted, his eyes half-lidded and raking down the entire length of Yuuri's body as his fingernails dragged against the sheets.
He'd known Victor would enjoy it, but if he'd had any idea it would have this much of an effect, he would have gotten up the courage to buy flirty lingerie months ago.
He let out a careful breath as he pushed the fabric to one side and pressed a slick finger against his own entrance, and Victor visibly tensed underneath him as it slid inside. He looked like he was practically vibrating with the need to reach up and touch, but his arms stayed stiff and still at his sides. “You're not touching me,” Yuuri noted.
“You told me not to, remember?” Victor forced out, sounding like it pained him.
Yuuri smirked, reaching out with his free hand to caress Victor's flushed cheek. “So obedient.” Victor's eyelids slid shut, a sigh rolling from between his parted lips. “Don't worry, Vitya,” Yuuri breathed, rocking back on his own fingers, “Just a little longer. You'll be inside me soon.” Victor shivered. “That's what you want, da?”
“Yes.” The word practically burst out of him, his hands moving to Yuuri's hips – just for a moment, out of habit, before he pulled them back again and curled his fingers into tight fists, pushing them down against the mattress on either side of his head.
Just the sight of his husband, squirming underneath him with the need to touch, but resisting so beautifully, was enough to set a deep ache burning in Yuuri's belly. He was hard and leaking in his underwear, his hips rolling on their own accord as his body searched for friction.
“You want to take these off me?” he asked, letting his finger slip out of him and hooking a thumb in the waistband of the panties. Victor's face lit up.
“Can I?” Victor gasped, and he was already reaching for them by the time Yuuri nodded. He paused, his fingers already tugging on the fabric and pulling it down over Yuuri's hips, and he looked up at him through his messy silver bangs. “Can you leave the stockings on?”
It was Yuuri's turn to shiver again. He nodded.
Victor leaned forward, pushing himself upright and pressing a kiss to Yuuri's belly as he carefully unhooked the garters and freed Yuuri's erection. Yuuri gasped, flinching as he pressed a hand to the back of Victor's head.
Victor glanced up at him, searching for any hint of hesitation, of discomfort. “Tickles,” Yuuri said on a breathy laugh, and he felt his husband smile against his soft flesh.
It was the truth, though only part of it. There was still a small piece of him that wanted to hide, like Victor somehow still hadn't seen the extra softness around his belly or the stretch marks on his thick thighs. Like one day he was bound to notice and snap out of the trance he was stuck in. But he pushed that part of him down and away, its voice growing quieter and quieter with every pass of Victor's fingers over his plump ass and every gentle kiss to the stretched skin of his stomach.
He ran his fingers through Victor's soft hair, smiling as Victor carefully peeled the underwear off of him, leaving the stockings behind. He sighed in relief when they were finally gone – even if the stockings were still tight around his thighs, at least the pressure on his cock had lessened.
But Victor didn't stop there; he held Yuuri's eye and pressed a kiss to the head of his erection. It was soft, almost tender, and it made Yuuri wobble and gasp. “No fair,” he groaned. “I'm supposed to be seducing you.”
“Oh, любовь моя, you did that a long time ago.” But he did pull away, letting Yuuri guide him back down against the pillows again with one hand steady against the center of Victor's chest.
Yuuri didn't chastise him as Victor's hands roamed up and down his thighs – he savored the feeling of those fingers dancing over the sheer silk as he carefully stretched himself open. Both of them were flushed red, panting softly by the time Yuuri reached for the lube again, coating Victor's erection with a few slow strokes.
“Condom?” Victor asked, and Yuuri shook his head.
“Don't want anything between us,” Yuuri told him, smirking as he leaned down closer to press a kiss to the corner of Victor's mouth. He knew what he was about to say would make Victor melt, and he didn't want to miss a second of it. “I want to feel you fill me up.”
Victor did not disappoint. His breath left him in one shaky exhale, fingers curling against Yuuri's shoulders as messy Russian tumbled from his lips.
It wasn't often that they did it this way – condoms had long since been less about safety and more about practicality for the two of them. It made cleaning up afterward easier, but now, Yuuri was focused on much more than having the shower after they were done. Now, all he could think about was the feeling of Victor's cock pressing up against him, and the sound that ripped itself from Victor's throat as he pushed down onto him.
If he'd had any lingering insecurities, or any remaining shred of doubt of just how hungry Victor was for him, they dissolved immediately when he settled down against Victor's hips. He sighed, feeling more than hearing the rough and desperate moan that rattled its way out of Victor's throat as he did.
“Yuuri,” Victor whined, fingers digging into the flesh of Yuuri's thighs. “I won't last...”
“Then don't try to,” Yuuri told him with a smile as he rocked his hips. He bit his lip, savoring the feeling of his body giving and stretching to accommodate Victor's length. “You don't have to hold back for me.”
“As if I could ever leave you disappointed on our anniversary – oh.”
Yuuri didn't plan on either of them being disappointed. Not when he'd put all of that time and effort into getting into this damn lingerie.
Victor's hands were everywhere, grasping and squeezing at every inch of flesh he could find. He gazed up at Yuuri, his eyes wide and searching, his breath coming in hot, hurried puffs from between his parted lips. “I've missed this side of you,” he breathed with a smile. He let his hand rest on the curve of Yuuri's hip, thumb stroking over his skin, and Yuuri didn't feel the slightest urge to pull away.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Victor's mouth before pulling away again. Something hot and possessive coursed through him, made him forget every bit of insecurity he'd felt since seeing himself in the mirror. He stretched himself backward, bracing his hands back against Victor's thighs and relishing the little gasp Victor let out as he put himself on display.
Victor's fingers moved almost reverently up the length of Yuuri's chest, kneading against his soft flesh as Yuuri rocked down against him. The angle was nearly perfect, making him groan and squeeze his eyes shut when Victor's hips arched upward. “There-” he gasped, the word bursting out of him before he realized it was happening and making his face flush hot and red.
Victor was smiling up at him, his hands resting on Yuuri's hips and guiding their steady rocking motion. His fingers wrapped deftly around Yuuri's straining erection, stroking him carefully. “Coming apart for me so soon?” he teased.
“Look who's talking,” Yuuri shot back with a smirk. He could see the way Victor's breath shuddered on its way in, could read his mounting pleasure in the needy noises that escaped from his throat. “You're close.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Yuuri slowed the motion of his hips just enough for Victor to catch his breath. “Just give me a moment,” he said, blushing harder. “I can collect myself-”
Yuuri pushed himself forward, planting his hands firmly on either side of Victor's head on the pillows and picking up the pace again. “I'd rather see you come for me,” he insisted, and Victor let out a broken little moan.
“Yuuri-”
“Go on – I know you want to, Vitya.” He leaned down, letting his teeth press against the skin under his ear. “I want to feel you. Come for me, Vicchan.”
That did it, and Yuuri watched as Victor came apart underneath him. His brow knit, his lips falling open as he let out a long, rough moan. His fingers dug into the meat of Yuuri's thighs, scrambling for purchase on flesh or fabric. He trembled as Yuuri rode him through it, taking in every bit of him, from the sight of his face flushing and contorting in pleasure to the feeling of Victor spilling inside of him.
When Victor let out a shuddering sigh and went limp against the sheets, Yuuri fought against the ache in his own gut and carefully lifted himself off of him, feeling Victor's semen dribbling down his thigh onto the stockings. His own pleasure could wait – he would let Victor enjoy the pleasant serenity following his orgasm first.
Victor, it seemed, had other plans.
Before Yuuri could settle on the bed beside him, he felt himself tumbling, pressed down onto his back with Victor raining kisses down onto his chest and neck, moving lower down his abdomen. “Victor-” he shuddered. “What-”
“You didn't think I would let you go unsatisfied, did you?” Victor growled against Yuuri's stomach, making him shiver.
“No-” He sucked in a breath when Victor cupped his balls in his palm. “You can wait a minute, if you need-”
“Don't make me wait any longer to see you come for me.” Victor grabbed the bottle again, slicking up his fingers before they disappeared between Yuuri's legs again.
Victor's hands were deft and experienced, pushing inside and making Yuuri press his face against the pillows as he moaned and spread his legs wider for him. He shivered, gasping when Victor pressed against his prostate, his hand tangling in the soft platinum hair under his touch. “So soft,” Victor breathed, his lips brushing against the sheer fabric covering Yuuri's inner thigh. Victor kissed him there, pulling the stocking down and out of the way so that he could press his mouth eagerly against bare skin. “So perfect.” Yuuri bit his lip, arching against him.
Just a quick swipe of tongue – that was all the touch he needed on his cock before Yuuri was coming, leaving the garter belt and stockings thoroughly soiled.
“Where did you get the idea?” Victor asked him, grinning like a madman against his neck as he ran his fingers down Yuuri's bare thigh. The hems of the stockings had left indents in his skin where they'd pressed against his flesh. He felt Victor laugh against his shoulder. “Was it Chris?”
“No,” Yuuri said. “Just me.”
“Even better.” His voice was almost a growl, rumbling deep in his chest and tickling Yuuri's shoulder. “Do you have any idea how incredible you looked?” The tone of his words was soft and searching, his eyes gleaming in the low light as he let his fingers dance over softness that had collected on Yuuri's hips and stomach. He pressed a kiss to Yuuri's shoulder, just as gently.
“You sure seemed to like it,” Yuuri chuckled.
“Obviously.” He nuzzled against Yuuri's neck, holding him closer. “How could I not? Ah...I'd kill for a picture. Just for me, of course...to keep me company on those long, cold nights when we're apart.”
He tickled Yuuri's ribs as he talked, making him giggle and squirm in Victor's grasp. “Maybe for your birthday,” he laughed.
Much to Victor's glee, he delivered.