open post | 5 | kink

[meerkats]

O P E N   S M U T   P O S T

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◉ sex!

Comments

for extramom

[triquey]

[ Another silver medal.

Chris found his stride two years ago, when he decided to take all of that sexual frustration he was feeling thanks to puberty and turn it into inspiration. In those two years he's gotten golds, silvers, bronzes in qualifiers, had even lost his footing one or twice to drop him just below the podium, but with Viktor? He's competed against his idol a handful of times now and every time? Silver.

He shouldn't be disappointed. Viktor Nikiforov is a force of nature, and if he can get silver and stand next to him repeatedly, that's a sign of his own skill. He's earned these silvers, through hard work and raw talent. He wants more than this though, and wonders if he'll ever overtake Viktor's impossible dominance.

That's a thought. He runs a hand over his cock as it stirs under hot water. This was supposed to be a quick rinse off--he has to change back and head out for the presser in a minute, but maybe a quick one wouldn't hurt.

With a sigh he abandons that train of thought to soap up the curve of his ass and rinse. He can get off to thinking about Viktor later.]

[extramom]

( Another gold medal.

It isn't as though Viktor isn't proud of himself; of course he is. The competition was good this year: Chris Giacometti seems hell-bent on giving him as good a run for his money as he possibly can, and he enjoys being able to inspire his fellow skaters to perform their absolute best. Any concerns he might've had about the Swiss boy's growth sport were laid to rest on the ice; Chris has grabbed puberty by the horns and turned it into a strength.

In return, puberty seems to have -

Well. Enhanced Chris in ways beyond height. In Viktor's defense, it's hard to not notice when a figure skater begins to fill out and look different. They all wear such tight costumes, and they share showers, and spend their off evenings eating and drinking and making merry when they're on the competition circuit. Chris was a cute child, but he's becoming a very handsome young man. With Viktor's inclinations the way they are ... )

No. Stop it.

( He mutters under his breath. Viktor touches the gold disc at his chest and tries not to think about his country - something he's been doing for two or three years now, ever since he began to understand why Yakov has been so strict about which men he is and isn't seen with. His coach knows, of course. It all came to a head on the night before his seventeenth birthday, when Viktor confessed that his mother had hit him and told him he was unnatural for wanting to ask a boy out on a date. Think of Russia, she said. Think of the shame you'd bring on your country. His lifetime of blood, sweat and tears could be rinsed away, just like that.

His family already hates him. Viktor couldn't bear it if his country hated him too, if for no other reason than those joyous screams and cheers are all he has left to hold on to.

A shower will help, Viktor thinks, as he steps into the changing room. He has an interview in about thirty minutes but there's still time to get himself turned around. He removes his medal, then his clothes, and pulls his hair into a bun on the top of his head, before digging out his towel and heading into the showers. )

Oh -

( He's used to sharing showers, but he isn't used to catching the increasingly handsome Chris rubbing suds over the firm curve of his ass. Viktor blinks, feeling heat bleed into the the edges of his ears, and clears his throat a little awkwardly just to let the Swiss know he isn't alone. )

Chris! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here.

( Long fingers clutch at the towel wrapped low on his hips. )

Would you like some privacy?

( That's it. Play it professional. Viktor arranges one of his smaller fake smiles onto his lips and tosses a wink his way. )

I know how important it can be to have a little alone time before dealing with the press.

[triquey]

[ Being gay in an international sport, you learn quite quickly what you can and can't do, with whom, and where. Josef had sat him down and had a talk when he started to find himself. Not a talk about what he did in his private time, but about public image and international borders. He couldn't be vocally out if he wanted to be in the ISU's good graces. Not until he retired, and then he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

It infuriated him for a short while, being the naive teenager he was (he thinks now with the fine perspective of being the ripe old age of eighteen), but it wasn't that hard to understand once the very sudden feeling of betrayal settled. It didn't matter what he did, it only mattered what was in the public eye. It didn't matter what he skated to, so long as he charmed all of his fans equally with no visible preference. It didn't matter if everyone knew, so long as he never said anything about it. He found it all terribly frustrating at first, but the payoff was worth it. The payoff was silver medal after silver medal next to Viktor Nikiforov.

Viktor Nikiforov who he had just considered getting off to in the shower. Viktor Nikiforov who just waltzed into the showers and froze.

Generally unbothered, Chris just smiles with amicable warmth, turning halfway to facing Viktor as he continues to soap himself up, moving onto his chest. ]

Non, it's not a problem at all. It's not as if I have anything that you haven't seen before.

[ He winks, playful, with no weight behind it. He likes to think that they're at least friendly by now. ]