.

.

It's not exactly a deep, dark secret.

Especially since Viktor indulges him.

The weekend spirals down from tasting edible cherry blossom-shaped jelly cakes in La Floraison eatery, to a private helicopter tour high over the Blue Mountains, and to wind-surfing and a romantic walk on the coast of Sydney, Australia. The glee and thrill bundles in Yuuri's diaphragm, finally unraveling as he collapses into their penthouse suite.

"I'm getting too old for this," Yuuri groans loudly, his mouth and face plastered to a fluffy, white pillow.

The king-sized bed is comfy and enormous, and he's not leaving it. Never ever. Even if Yuuri can still feel the crusty flecks of sand between his toes.

Viktor chuckles, leaning over and pulling off Yuuri's dirty socks with an ridiculous amount of domesticated care. They're flung uselessly onto the rug, along with Viktor's belt, his Armani socks and shoes. Viktor's wedding ring flashes golden against the muted, molten lamplight.

"You're only thirty," he says pointedly, crawling over Yuuri's body, kissing his nape with heartfelt affection. "If anyone is still young and spry… it's you, Yuuri."

With a little maneuvering, Yuuri twists around, kissing Viktor's mouth and eyeing him. Viktor's dress-shirt hangs open, revealing a triangle of alabaster, hairless skin and his collarbones. It's the scenic view of tiny, purpling marks that Yuuri's teeth are well-acquitted with.

Yuuri's fingers press against the bulge on Viktor's form-fitting, dark trousers, tracing its heavy, familiar shape. He rolls his thumb to where the cockhead flattens up. To his unspoken appreciation, Viktor's penis twitches to the intentions. Yuuri tunes into a low, sensual noise from his husband, cupping his face, nudging his opening lips to Viktor's jaw. Yuuri's own wedding ring glinting.

"Show me…"

It's not a world-record time for Viktor undressing him, but it's close. It's so close, and they're too far apart like this to be satisfactory. Yuuri quivers a little to the exposure of the air-conditioned suite, his back and naked, muscular ass flattened to the downy sheets.

Yuuri's name escapes Viktor, between panting, messy kisses and his wavering concentration. Holding back his urge to worship all of Yuuri, like he wants to. It's a miracle Viktor wants him like this, Yuuri thinks. The dress-shirt stays on, tucked under the waistband of Viktor's trousers as he jerks down the zipper and his Hermes designer-brand underwear, freeing his erection.

On the list of cocks he's encountered, Viktor has Yuuri's favorite qualities: not too big or meaty, proportioned nicely while ramrod-straight and seemingly juicy with a soft, pink and wet glans.

He knows to take it slow with Yuuri, each time, prepping him. Until.

"Yuuri, Yuuri—aah—"

Pre-cum leaks against Yuuri's upper thigh and hip, as his cock bounces along the occasional thrust. Yuuri's heart goes staccato-beat. He needs to be full inside—he needs, needs

"I know. I know, malysh," Viktor whispers consolingly, hearing Yuuri's whining, frustrated cry underneath him. He embraces Yuuri down on the bed, nearly cradling him in his arms, now pounding into him and crashing his hips up against Yuuri's hot, lube-slickened ass.

Yuuri squirms, legs crooked open and eyes fluttering shut, his own arms pinned to his chest and Viktor's. His face burning red on the surface when Viktor drops his voice, breathy and sultry.

"If I don't pull out in time… will you get pregnant?"

Fuck.

Viktor suddenly halts his pace, bottoming out with a smooth, single motion and pushing himself rigidly up to Yuuri's anus gripping firmly on him. Fuck, fuckfuckfuck.

"Do you want to be pregnant, Yuuri? Should I make you pregnant on my cock?" God, yes. He moans, craning his neck and arching. Wishing to feel the penetrative, thick drag of Viktor's cock against his walls. "How would that feel?" Viktor murmurs, grinning, his seaglass-colorful eyes darting over Yuuri's scrunched and delirious expression. "A big, round belly full of my baby…"

The mental image seems erotic: Yuuri's abdomen stretched drum-tight and huge, curving out of his too-small jersey when Viktor positioned behind him, guiding Yuuri's hands slowly to the counter-top, feeding and humping his cock into Yuuri's widening, fluid-dripping hole.

Yuuri opens his eyes and tosses his head sideways. He moans out "yes, haah!" as Viktor swivels his hips on the next plunging thrust, knocking to Yuuri's sensitive prostate repeatedly.

"Carry our baby… Yuuri—!"

It's been minutes, hours, he isn't sure when that roaring orgasm hits him—only that Yuuri's stomach warms with his gush of come spilling. He can still feel Viktor lazily riding his pleasure on top of him, grinding against Yuuri's trembling balls and his ass, seated his full length inside Yuuri.

Yuuri sighs out, clenching. He pushes a hand through Viktor's silvery bangs, touching his husband's cheek and exhaling the remnants of a laugh when a smiling, sweaty Viktor nips against his pinky finger.

"Thank you," he murmurs. For not thinking I'm sick in the head.

Viktor's upturned lips brush to his forehead.

"Yuuri's the best."

.

.


Yuri on Ice isn't mine. I HAVEN'T WRITTEN THIS SPECIFIC KINK IN A WHILE AND I'M GLAD I'M NOT COMPLETELY OUT OF TOUCH WITH IT. EHEHEHEE. YuriOnIceKink asked for "Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov Breeding Kink" but with no actual pregnancy so this is not an mpreg either. Just a sexual fantasy. Well, I hope you had fun reading, everybody! If you got comments/thoughts, I'd love to hear them! Enjoy your newest YOI Weds!