.

.

These are the terms.

Yuuri's throat clenches up, making it difficult to swallow. He's dizzy. He's… excited?

The man across from him, with the Hollywood blue eyes and sandy, cropped hair, tilts his chin. The building's corridor now emptied, seeing as Yuuri and everyone else huddles inside the men's locker room. On the way in, Yuuri feels someone's hand touching his back, skimming lightly to curve of Yuuri's ass. He jumps for a second, heart fluttering. A flash of arousal grips him without warning, reddening Yuuri's cheeks.

It's your body… in exchange for your skating pals to have the rink. Got it?

"Got it," Yuuri murmurs in agreement. His eyesight is pretty horrendous without his glasses — but he can, without a doubt, see Hollywood Blue smiling fiercely, his forehead crinkling as he belts out a laugh.

Some of the Detroit Hockey Team shake their head as if disapproving, and others lick their lips, tracing their hungry gazes over Yuuri, head to toe, without shame. The locker room's occupants lessen. All five men, left remaining of the eleven originally, begin stripping down, quietly arguing and knocking into each other.

Yuuri contemplates his decision, carefully unlacing and removing his guard-covered ice skates.

Not a bad compromise. Phichit and their skating club now have the last few weeks of the mouth to practice. Celestino doesn't have to fight about the schedule, or with the officials running the local ice-teams. It's too much of a hassle, considering how much everyone needs the rink.

He has his top layer off when he squawks, fingers grabbing his hair roughly and a semi-erect cock appears in Yuuri's face.

"Open wide." Any protest Yuuri hopes to voice — crammed and vanished. An unnamed man forces himself into Yuuri's widening mouth, giving a bone-jolting thrust and kickstarting Yuuri's gag reflex.

A man with several upper-arm tattoos, and more heavyset with muscle than this man, separates them with a concerned look.

Yuuri gags out more noisily and squeezes his eyes shut, holding onto the edges of the locker-bench with quivering hands. Yuuri's scalp burning in agony.

Shit, oh shit

"Hey—chill, Marco. Let the kid breathe." Tattoos leans over, using a softer tone for Yuuri. He strokes the top of Yuuri's head, gently petting his dark hair. "He'll behave, won't you, Marco?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Marco says vacantly, but glares at Hollywood Blue who smirks.

Yuuri's anxiety still hitches his chest, but he calms enough to undress, Yuuri's bare skin feeling the cool, polished metal of the bench. "Down on your knees, alright?" Tattoos coaxes him, waiting for Yuuri to do so before petting Yuuri's hair again, soothing and slow, bringing him in closer.

This time, Yuuri opens his mouth willingly for a cock, lips smearing across the swollen, pink glans. It tastes wet and sweaty and like cock— he's only given Phichit a "blowjob" as the Americans call it once. Yuuri has never let Phichit come inside his mouth, or planned to, but did let him come on his face. It had been disgusting and incredible at the same time, witnessing a kind of lost, blissed out expression on Phichit.

Because of Yuuri's actions.

This cock isn't as hairy or stinks as bad, but Yuuri's jaw begins to ache. He groans out and shifts with palms flat to the unscrubbed tiles, attempting to loosen his facial muscles to accommodate the girth.

"Good boy," Tattoos whispers above him. His pale hips lift and buck forward, pressing deeper inside Yuuri's throat for a long, heart-pounding moment. Yuuri manages to not gag. He's forgotten about the men waiting, eyeing him and mumbling, creeping closer to inspect Yuuri kneeling.

Hands — everywhere hands, caressing his sides and back, at first tentatively before getting rougher, pinching, scratching. Yuuri keens out at the sensation of a new, cool hand fondling Yuuri's own cock standing out from his body and dribbling pre-cum, jacking him several times.

Other hands peel apart Yuuri's buttocks, massaging the line of his perineum, up to his hole. He squirms when the tip of a forefinger pushes firmly against Yuuri's exposed anus, testing its resistance.

"Well, well, got ourselves a virgin," someone hollers out.

There's an echo of cheers and hoots. Tattoos pulls off, his dick sliding out of Yuuri's slopping-wet mouth. Yuuri squirms harder, flushing darkly as more fingers invade his space, holding his legs and ass wide-open, probing and rubbing all over. Some fingers coat in saliva, attempting to nudge past Yuuri's rim.

It hurts when the first one is successful, jabbing and spreading him to prepare for the next finger.

Yuuri cries out, head hanging low, before it's another unnamed man in front of him, cupping the side of his face. This man has lovely, dark brown skin and a obviously crooked nose, as if something inside it broke and didn't heal quite the way it needed to. It's not so unusual for someone playing hockey, he thinks.

Nose strokes over Yuuri's temple and forehead, offering a silent, close-lipped smile.

"Anyone got lube for their night out?"

"Catch!" One of the men shouts.

Whoever asked must have caught it, because a new round of cheers rear up, erupting around Yuuri. "This is some flavored shit?" A groan of displeasure from the catcher. "Who the hell even likes grape?"

Everyone else begins laughing, jostling each other, and somebody fiercely smacks Yuuri right on his hole. Yuuri clenches himself up instinctively, around the forefinger knuckle-deep inside him.

"Be easy on him, Rod," Hollywood Blue says warningly.

It's a little difficult to remove the forefinger, but Yuuri gets a millisecond's rest before bigger, slickened fingers plunge into him, dilating open Yuuri's rim further.

"He can take it, right, sweetheart?" Rod pretends to coo, thrusting his fingers clumsily and grasping Yuuri's hip to steady him. Yuuri bites down on his lower lip and ignores him, focusing on making himself relax instead. "Gonna get yourself a nice big rod… in that sweet little ass."

They must have worked out who was going first— as soon as Yuuri thinks he's used to it, he feels something blunt and huge attempting to fit instead of a man's fingers. The cockhead presses, and presses to Yuuri's rim, sinking in, centimetre by centimetre, filling Yuuri to a near breaking point.

Yuuri pants and collapses to his elbows, his vision hazing.

It's… shit, it's amazing…

He barely moves when Rod begins fucking him, slamming and grinding against Yuuri's ass. The pace continues to increase, brutal and with no intentions of slowing when Rod's meaty hand grips one of Yuuri's hips to the point of leaving bruises. "Fucking hell—fucking fuck yes," Rod moans out breathlessly, pressing up entirely to Yuuri's hips and grinding down as he orgasms, shooting his come deep into Yuuri's ass.

The next man takes his place, just as Rod slips out of Yuuri, wagging his spent dick in victory. Yuuri doesn't know who it is but he's kinder with him, gradually pushing in. The thrusts are shorter and slower, easing through body-warmed semen and lubricant. He covers Yuuri's back, pressing on him.

Hollywood Blue's voice drops into Yuuri's ear, stirring the bits and pieces of arousal Yuuri clings to.

"You're good. Sure you're a virgin, baby?"

His pale hand slides and cups over Yuuri's balls, squeezing down, drawing a sharp-soft sobbing noise out of Yuuri. Hollywood Blue fucks him like a lover might, greedy for his own and yet allowing Yuuri the chance at a release. He empties himself into Yuuri, dragging his open mouth and nose against Yuuri's nape. The other, younger man gasps out and trembles, his dick spurting onto Hollywood Blue's right hand.

From there, it seems like routine — new man, new cock — but all five of them must have their turn. Marco fists Yuuri by the hair again, yanking minutely as he pounds into him, cursing and using words like "bitch" and "slut" which only fuel Yuuri's desire to get off harder than before.

Tattoos refuses his turn initially, before agreeing to fuck Yuuri's mouth as Rod gleefully takes a second turn — once or twice, he pulls out too far out of Yuuri's ass, fumbling around to get back.

Yuuri's belly feels tight and hot, almost swelling with how much come there's inside him.

Nose agrees to Tattoos' decision, slipping into Yuuri's throat instead — at the same time, Hollywood Blue takes his round, slowly massaging Yuuri's back and shoulders, kissing down and then biting on one area hard. Yuuri groans, licking and suckling lazily on the tip of Nose's cock.

He recognizes the pre-orgasmic twitching in his mouth. Tattoos gave him a nonverbal warning before it happened, pulling back out of Yuuri's throat so the other man wouldn't choke on the hot fluid jetting.

This time, Nose jerks his hips and holds Yuuri's head in place, stuffing his dick all the way in. Yuuri's eyes water at the corners. He muffles out distressed noises, choking on the unexpected, possessive motion, before an soft-spoken, genuine apology reaches his ears.

Yuuri nods, coughing. Drool and a little of Nose's come slides on Yuuri's chin, dripping the floor.

"You did great, oh my god," Hollywood Blue groans out, partly in ecstasy, giving one last, messy thrust. He claps Yuuri's leg and rises to his feet, highfiving Marco who leers slightly down on Yuuri. "Rink is yours."

"Thank you," Yuuri murmurs, hardly audible.

The members of the hockey team aggressively celebrate and toss each other paper towels, wiping themselves off quickly and dressing back into their red-and-white jerseys.

Soon enough, they're gone.

He takes his time, already sitting up and gingerly keeping his weight off his abused hole. Come leaks between Yuuri's thighs as he rolls onto his knees, standing and heading for the showers. Yuuri cleans himself with the hot water, only visibly wincing as it hits his genitals and especially all of the sore, sensitive skin.

"Yuuuuuuuri!" Phichit, still dressed in the casual clothes Yuuri saw an hour ago, pokes his head around the corner. He glances around for his best friend. "Shall we skaaaaaaaate?" he singsongs.

Yuuri's mouth uplifts.

"In a minute," he calls back. "I've got good news for Celestino…"

.

.


Yuri on Ice isn't mine. Haven't done some good ole fashioned orgy-ish smut in a while! Kinda fun, kinda missed it! YuriOnIceKink on Dreamwidth provided the "Detroit Hockey Team/Yuuri Katsuki, consensual gangbang" prompt and if you had a good time too, leave a couple of words/thoughts! Please and thank you!