exurbiaa

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 6: Ramen Studies

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

“How do verbs even work,” groaned Yuuri under his breath. He was so sure that this was the third time he was reading Eugene Onegin and trying to understand it. This was the furthest thing from elementary for God’s sake. Sure, nineteenth Century Russian Literature was considered gold and everything, yes, he was sure that the era was absolutely wonderful but what in fuck did this have to do with him wanting to be an interpreter and translator (okay, it did have a lot to do with him being either of those but that’s beside the point, let him sulk in peace, thank you).

There were at least seven different books spread in front of him that should have helped him understand the working of these damned verbs but, of course, they helped him understand absolutely nothing.

For heaven’s sake, he’d spent more than three months here. You’d think he’d be somewhat closer to understanding how this shit worked.

He groaned loudly and buried his head in his arms, glancing at his phone. It was almost closing time for the library.

I should probably head back if I still have any hopes getting dinner.

“Ugh, just ten minutes. Come on, I can cram something in,” he thought out loud, dragging one of his textbooks back to him.

“No can do, kid. I’m closing up and practically starving,” came a voice from his side, a hand slamming down on the table. An irritated hiss could be heard from the next table, where only the frown of a girl was visible behind another teetering pile of textbooks, eyes tired like she hadn’t left the library in days.

“Shit that was loud, sorry. Really though, are you planning on wrapping up anytime soon?” Minako whispered, as she flexed her wrist to get the sting out.

“Doesn’t look like it,” groaned Yuuri (he’s been doing an awful lot of groaning these days), leaning back and throwing a hand over his face, trying to shield his eyes from the pendant light.

“I could help, you know? I’m kind of rusty but not that bad,” offered Minako, sliding into the single seat opposite him.

“Really?” Yuuri perked up immediately, beaming.

“Yeah, but I don’t see why you can’t ask Viktor himself. He’s absolutely lovely and quiet helpful,” Minako questioned, cocking her head a little to the side.

Yuuri’s face flushed immediately and he hid his face back in his arms. How was he supposed to explain that every time he went to ask Mr. Nikiforov something, he started flirting with Yuuri almost immediately? It really didn’t help that he was a ridiculously good-looking man and very easy on the eyes, with his pretty silver hair and piercing blue eyes, so Yuuri was almost always distracted by something or the other, be it his smooth words or his perfect smile or his long fingers.

He wanted him to whisper things into his ears in that low voice.

He wanted to kiss that bewitching smile.

He wanted those fingers to-  NOPE WE ARE GOING TO STOP RIGHT THERE, YUURI KATSUKI.

And this was precisely why Yuuri was always distracted and confused. Distracted by Mr. Nikiforov’s beauty and confused by his flirting. Really not the best combination to have when you’re taking said Professor’s class.

What made it worse was that his flirting wasn’t even in the least bit subtle. No, it was so blatant and outright that you’d have to be an idiot to not pick it up when it was directed straight at you, especially if more than 80% of his “playful” flirting with his students was directed at you.

Minako seemed to pick up on Yuuri’s embarrassment (that wouldn’t even be hard, considering that he could feel how hot and red his ears had gone) and smirked, groaning even as she did so, “Is he flirting with you?” Yuuri raised the side of his head a little to look at her out of one eye, his glasses going wonky and blocking his vision. Minako began to laugh, almost hysterically before she was tutted at again by the same girl.

“He’ll never improve, will he?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What that means is that you should probably just and take his help instead of my rusty ass trying to teach you some European language that I can only remember like, four words of.”

“Didn’t you just tell me you’re not that bad it?”

“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to exaggerate a little and maybe relearn something while helping someone else. Alright now, kid, time’s up, get the fuck out of my library.”

“Aren’t you maybe, not supposed to swear.”

“It’s past closing time, kid, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

Yuuri could practically feel the girl at the next table glaring daggers into his and Minako’s souls. He quickly gathered his books up, carrying a heavy textbook to check out as he followed Minako to the front desk.

He watched the girl check the books out before him, sending him one last glare as she left the library, as though he’d personally offended her entire ancestral line by even being there. Minako chuckled from behind her computer, checking Yuuri’s book out and telling her to wait a little as she finished her final run through of the place.

Yuuri walked out into the cold, watching the larger lights in the library shut off one by one, throwing a soft glow from the smaller lamps onto the landscape. He was about to bid Minako goodbye and stop by some decent pizza place that was hopefully open at this time, when she strolled out of the exit, keys clinking as she twirled the key ring around her fingers.

“Care to join me for some ramen?” she asked, rooting around in her bag for something.

Yuuri lit up almost immediately, dreadfully missing a piping hot bowl of ramen but not having been able to find a decent place that sold any good ones near university. Minako glanced up at him, her tiny little frown at whatever she was searching for melting into something soft as she regarded his bright eyes. “My treat, alright?”, she said, letting out a small sound as she finally managed to fish her car keys out.

Before Yuuri could protest, she continued, “You’re a student. Best save that cash money for some textbooks or tuition. Plus, you’ve been with me far too often now for me to not take you out. Almost shameful, really.”

She walked quickly towards the parking lot, letting Yuuri trot along after her, lugging his bag along, now heavy with yet another textbook just to try and understand fucking Alexander Pushkin. 

Okay maybe not fucking Pushkin in its literal sense wait what kind of surname is Pushkin even hell it’s a whole ass euphemism what the fuck what’s the betting that at least one person used it against him as a pickup line wait doesn’t his middle name have Gay in it too what was it what was it Sir Gay something wait was he even gay wait that isn’t ri-

“-UURI!” Minako’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts and he almost landed on his ass in the snow, slipping as caught himself right before he rammed into the side of Minako’s car.

“I was just asking you if you’ve had proper ramen since you’ve come here, where’s your head at?” questioned Minako, her voice laced with a little bit of concern, watching as Yuuri fumbled with his bag while he strode towards the passenger seat.

“No, I’ve just been living off instant ramen. Couldn’t find any,” replied Yuuri, finally managing to seat himself in the car without any further problems.

Minako grinned, revving her engine up as she told him about her favourite ramen place near university. It didn’t seem to be too far, idle chatter filling any silence as the car radio blared out some pop music.

Yuuri’s tired eyes had just begun to droop when Minako pulled up in front of a small shop, its warm yellow light spilling out onto the footpath, a welcome aura drawing Yuuri towards it almost immediately.

Minako had already stalled the engine and had a hand on the restaurant door as Yuuri stepped out, letting the enticing aroma that cascaded out of the door overwhelm his senses. He breathed a deep sigh and followed Minako in.

Yuuri let a little sound of surprise out at the interiors of the place. Done in a style as close to authentic as possible, this felt more like home to Yuuri than anything he could imagine in these past few months. Minako let him bask in it all as she guided him towards one of the low tables, sitting on the tatami floor before him and calling a server over to place their orders.

Once they were done and a bottle of sake was placed on their table, Minako resumed conversing with him, talking even as Yuuri’s mind wandered, still soaking up the comforting atmosphere of the place and settling in, his concerns over verbs and men with gay as their middle names and pretty men with blue eyes disappearing slowly as his mind floated back home, Minako’s careful hands making sure he drink too much sake as they waited for their order.

The server was quick to arrive with their orders, a bowl of miso ramen and another of shoyu ramen being placed on their table just as Yuuri’s stomach had begun growling. The heady smell of broth and spices swamped his senses, his mouth watering instantly as he quickly grabbed at his chopsticks.

“Oh, Minako-sensei! Is that you, Yuuri? Hello!” a familiar, cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, ripping him from his ramen-induced haze. He quickly looked up at Minako, who had her eyes trained somewhere behind him, her face slowly splitting into a wide smile as she waved back at whoever it was behind him.

Nonononononononononononono-

“Am I interrupting something, perchance?” Yuuri felt more than heard that statement as it was stage-whispered near his ear, the accented voice far too recognizable and causing the tips of his ears to go bright red as he whipped his head to find Viktor already drawn away and settling himself onto a cushion.

“Couldn’t wait for an invitation before sitting your ass down, huh?” teased Minako, waving over the server to bring another glass to the table.

“Why bother with my favourite librarian?” drawled Viktor, turning to the waiter to place his order as well. Having done so, he looked back at them, pushing the glass towards Yuuri. “Mind pouring one out, Mr. Katsuki?” he said, in the same flirtatious drawl, a dangerous smirk creeping up on his face as he regarded Yuuri.

Yeah, fuck, he was going to need more sake for this.

[exurbiaa]

Person: Your ship isn't real

Me:

Person:

Me: COZ THOUGH THE TRUTH MAY VARY

Person: No...

Me: THIS SHIP WILL CARRY YOUR

Person: Wait... Isn't it our?

Me: BODY SAFE TO THE SHORE

[MUFFLED SCREAMS AND MURDER]

[exurbiaa]

I swear this was Mycroft the first time Greg gave him the frick frack okay.

[exurbiaa]

Hi! I absolutely love Slavonic Studies. Will you be completing it or have you lost inspiration for it. 😘

i feel like you’re calling me out and *bitch voice* honestly im so offended right now

I’m kidding but for real i feel like i could give the excuse that i’ve been busy with university and travel (which i have been) but that’s enough to justify a 6 month delay

i confess that i did lose inspiration for it for the longest time (my “early” reply to this post should make that apparent). also i got into other fandoms and i think i started lose confidence in the way i write.

I have started writing it out again, although i’m extremely unsatisfied with how i’m writing it. but hey, it’s a start (i guess???)

I’m so so sorry for putting it off for so long, and i cant believe i’ve made people wait for 6 months??? are people even waiting anymore??? wtf is wrong with me??? i get frustrated with fics that havent been updated in 2 months and then i do shit that’s worse wow fml

but for real i really really am sorry and i’m hoping to finish up with the new chapter within 2-3 weeks because of my exams and then i’ll try to update it as regularly as possible.

[exurbiaa]

[exurbiaa]

I’M SCREAMING AT HIS REPLY

[exurbiaa]

why is tumblr dead on sundays you cant possibly expect me to believe any of you go to church

[exurbiaa]

cream cake

This wasn't what Yuuri had in mind when he set out to make a cream cake.

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

try anything new recently? ;)

That was the text that Yuuri received one morning from a certain Christophe Giacometti. He stared at his phone, confused, until his bleary 11 am self noted the little smiley at the end, making his eyes widen as he rubbed them, a flush creeping onto his cheeks.

In all honesty, they hadn't really done anything "new" in a while, not in the sense Chris meant anyway, but Yuuri was okay with it, and he hadn't heard Viktor complain either. They fucked, they switched, they occasionally tried something that was still probably vanilla. It was all good.

But Yuuri did want to try something "new", if in a more conventional sense. He did have his day off the rink today, Viktor having taken some pity on him because of the intense amount of practise they’d both been doing off late. Plus, Phichit would be a good push in the direction he intended to take. A quick call to Chris and a lot of blushing and listening to inappropriate suggestions involving food later, he pressed the call button next to Phichit's contact.

Phichit, in addition to being a self-proclaimed "love guru", also happened to be a pretty good baker, and Yuuri would attest to that any day, never having forgotten their days in Detroit. Phichit could whip up a simple cheesecake from the most basic ingredients that would practically melt in one's mouth (he had once made his crush accidentally give a drawn-out moan of pleasure while having some home-made tiramisu, leading to an awkward conversation which somehow led to him being Phichit’s boyfriend till date). Phichit's little treats were a delight to eat, particularly on days when things were too hard.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was a walking disaster when it came to anything to do with the kitchen, tripping over anything and everything. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cracked an egg without getting shell pieces in his omelette, having cracked it too hard against the bowl. His mother had pretty much banned him from ever entering the kitchen even as an adult, let alone as a child, fully conscious of his clumsiness and refusing to let it taint her lovely kitchen.

He set out of the house, pulling on his windbreaker, as he walked in the direction of the store, wallet in one hand as he stared down at his phone in the other, going over the list of ingredients Phichit had sent him to "make a simple cream cake that's just assembly because no, I haven't forgotten the way you burned my damn sugar cookies, Jesus, those were sugar cookies, yes, of course, I forgave you for it, yes I'm still a bit salty, I mean come on Yuuri, sugar cookies , Seung-Gil says hi too, kill him with the cake Yuuri, but not literally."

An hour later, Yuuri was back home, armed with an arsenal of sweet things that probably only made sense when you put them together in a dish and several snacks that Viktor had begged for over a series of texts. He walked to the kitchen to deposit the bags and started to take his jacket off as he went to the bedroom.

Viktor was back from the rink and was lying on the bed in a dressing gown as he rewatched practise videos, jotting down a few notes as he tapped away at the laptop. Yuuri smiled, walking over to Viktor and resting his head on top of Viktor’s, watching him land a triple Lutz on the screen. "Viktor, I've got a surprise for you in the evening but you're not going to come into the kitchen till then, okay?" said Yuuri, after a few moments of watching Viktor from over the top of his head. He heard a small gulp from Viktor as he tilted his head up to look at Yuuri, and Yuuri pouted, aware that he too was slightly wary of Yuuri's cooking, after having witnessed first-hand an attempt at making Teriyaki chicken. "Sure," replied Viktor, going back to his notes.

Yuuri scowled at Viktor’s response. Just you wait. I'm going to make you the most delicious cream cake you've ever had in your life. You'll be begging for more.

Yuuri went back to the kitchen, his resolve hardened as he got to work, getting the ingredients out one by one, and arranging them across the countertop, glancing at his phone as he murmured to himself and set about working to assemble all of them together according to Phichit's instructions.

Of course, this "assembly" could not have gone without any mishap either.

The first came in the shape of the cream itself. Yuuri had dumped all of the pineapple and the fresh cream into a blender to make the "smooth and slightly tart cream that tastes beautiful with the cake, oh Yuuri, you'll be licking the bowl clean". He couldn't find the right lid that went on the blender and got another one, that was clearly supposed to be for another functional part of the blender. He placed his hand on top of it to steady it and switched it on.

Cream everywhere.

The cream dribbled out of the sides with the force of the blades and got onto Yuuri's hands and t-shirt, making it sticky and ruining it. Yuuri hissed and jumped back, shaking his hands a little and licking the cream off his fingers, He contemplated running to the room to change into another t-shirt but Viktor would just see it as proof that all Yuuri could do in a kitchen was mess it up. There was just too much cream to simply wipe off with a cloth.

He grimaced and stripped out of his t-shirt, shuddering a little as the chill hit his body and the cream cooled along his hands. He quickly washed them up, wiping his arms dry with a cloth and went back to work.

The next mishap came in the form of the whipped cream. Really, what was it with the creams? What personal grudge did they hold against him? Yuuri had bought a powdered form, and read the instructions along the sides. Well, they seemed simple enough, just a little beating. There wasn’t a lot that could go wrong with beating milk into powder, now, could there?

Eyeing the cup carefully, Yuuri poured out the milk, accidentally adding a bit more than necessary. Yuuri mentally added buy measuring cups and spoons next time to his mental to-do list (which he always forgot). Some milk powder and caster sugar should fix this and make it thicker, right , he thought as he dumped a few spoonfuls in and switched the beater on.

Cream everywhere.

The shrill sound he let out as some of the cold mixture abruptly splashed onto his face and the rest of it dripped down his torso was close to inhuman. He heard the door of their bedroom bang as Viktor yelled his name, his footsteps echoing toward the kitchen.

Yuuri glanced at the cream splattered across the countertop and across his body.

Well, fuck.

~

Viktor knew Yuuri wasn't the best of cooks, but he was still willing to try whatever he made. Yuuri had close to stormed out of the room before, annoyed, making Viktor realize that his attempts at covering his apprehension up had not gone unnoticed.

What Viktor hadn't expected was to hear a sharp hiss and then five minutes later, a shrill yelp. Viktor rushed out of the room on instinct, calling out Yuuri's name, worried that he had cut his finger or burnt himself in any way (which, honestly, would not be a first. There was a reason why Viktor had stashed a little first-aid kit in the kitchen too.)

It pleasantly surprised him, however, to find Yuuri standing naked from the waist up, a suspiciously glutinous liquid thickly running down his chest and splattered on his face as he turned to face Viktor.

It was easy for Viktor to put that there weren’t very many times that he had gotten hard this quick before. He couldn't help the smirk that slipped onto his lips as he approached Yuuri, his gaze sliding from the cream on Yuuri's face winding its way down, to his bobbing Adam's Apple as he gulped nervously.

Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri's hip as he got closer, watching the cream inch lower as he trailed a finger through the cooling cream on Yuuri's chest. He noted its slightly rough texture (not fully blended yet?), lifting a little off and sliding it into his mouth. He moaned a little at the saccharine taste, and rolled his tongue to feel the roughness the little grains left behind. He almost missed the shocked look Yuuri gave him.

Leaning towards Yuuri's face, he licked lightly at his cheek, grinning at the little hitched breath Yuuri let out, flinching a bit. He continued to clean the cream off with little kitten licks, happily noticing the strategic landing of one fleck of cream very close to Yuuri's lips, teasing him just a little by coming so close to his lips.

He made his way down, licking away the cream at Yuuri's jaw, dragging the tip of his tongue slowly over the stretched tendon in his neck. Placing his lips delicately over a little cream-stained area of his neck, he quite indelicately sucked at the skin, licking it over, loving how the rough cream tasted on Yuuri's soft skin, loving his soft whine.

He moved his hands to Yuuri’s back, pulling him closer as he dipped his head lower, leaving a trail of purple bruises wherever the cream had landed, soothing them over with broad licks, flicking the hard little nub of Yuuri's nipple as he got to his chest and lightly scraping his teeth over it. "You're positively delicious, love," he whispered against his chest, his breath huffing over Yuuri’s nipple as he smiled at Yuuri’s little tremble.

He heard Yuuri let out a breathless chuckle as he felt fingers wrap in his hair. "S-sure that isn't the cr- mmh - cream?" Yuuri countered, as he pulled Viktor up and placed his lips over his own.

Yuuri moaned into his mouth, licking at his lips and chasing his tongue. Viktor felt quite overwhelmed himself, like he was drowning in the feel of Yuuri’s tongue. God, he was delightfully delectable, both with and without the cream.

He pulled himself away from Yuuri's lips, grinning at how Yuuri leaned forward to continue kissing him, his dissatisfied groan turning into a surprised hiccup as Viktor trailed his fingers along the tent in his trousers, continuing his trail down Yuuri's torso.

He pulled down Yuuri's trousers as he kissed his stomach, chuckling at the barely noticeable quiver. So, he was still sensitive here, huh? He mouthed at Yuuri through his boxers, slowly pulling the material down as he listened to the man huff out loud and cover his mouth.

He noticed a small trail of cream on Yuuri's palm and guided that hand to his cock as he pulled the boxers down, smiling impishly at Yuuri's confusion.

"Sweeten yourself for me, wouldn't you?" Viktor couldn't help laughing at the look of absolute horror on Yuuri's face.

He was, to put it lightly, just a little surprised, however, when Yuuri dragged him up by the arm and put his hands around Viktor’s midriff. “Yuuri what ar- O- OKAY THEN,” cried Viktor as he was suddenly picked up and deposited on the countertop. He barely had time to process what was happening before Yuuri had pulled him down by the neck and crushed his lips against his. He felt Yuuri’s tongue brush across his bottom lip as he parted the dressing gown and pulled his briefs away, dragging his fingers over Viktor’s cock, leaving him panting.

God, I’m so glad I decided to wear just this much.

“Why don’t I sweeten you up instead, Vitya ?” Yuuri chuckled, gripping Viktor’s cock and very slowly, infuriatingly so, stroking him.

“For fuck’s sake, I was the one supposed to be teasing you ,” groaned Viktor, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s neck as he continued stroking him. He definitely wasn't prepared for when Yuuri lowered his head and sucked the head of Viktor’s cock into his mouth, dragging his tongue through the pre-come gathered at the head. “Mm, sweet indeed. Sweeter than usual,” muttered Yuuri, dragging his tongue up Viktor’s length, wrapping his lips around the head again and sucking harder.

Honestly, how was this man allowed to live this long without being fucked silly?

Viktor let his head fall against the overhead cupboard, heavy breaths escaping him as his fingers tangled in Yuuri’s hair. He hummed softly, letting it turn into a groan as Yuuri sank down his shaft, his lips spreading around it as he swallowed him entirely.

The heat of Yuuri’s mouth seared through his cock, and Viktor continued to stare up at the ceiling, knowing very well what Yuuri looked like at times like this, wanting to drag out the sensation longer. He almost choked as Yuuri let his teeth glance over the sensitive ridge of his cock as he came up, fingers flexed in Yuuri’s hair, scraping against his scalp as his back arched into the feeling.

“ Fuck, Yuuri, ” moaned Viktor, feeling those friction-slick lips sliding up and down. Yuuri slowed down after a bit, slowly guiding Viktor’s cock further into his throat till his nose touched the base. Viktor keened as Yuuri swallowed around his cock, feeling his throat constrict and relax as he breathed slowly.

As Yuuri began moving with more urgency, Viktor chanced a look downwards, and remembered why he had kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. The sight of glasses sliding down, slightly askew, and the flush spreading over Yuuri’s cheeks as he worked lips burned crimson red with friction over Viktor’s cock almost adoringly . It was all enough to almost finish him right there.

What did finish him off, though, was watching Yuuri jerk himself off as he took in Viktor’s cock, letting it hit the back of his throat as he hummed, the vibrations almost making Viktor hit his head against the cupboard. “Fuck, Yuuri , I’m-” Viktor broke off with another loud moan.

Yuuri pulled away, panting, “Come for me, Viktor,” watching him as wrapped his lips around Viktor’s cock again. Viktor tightened his fingers in Yuuri’s hair, knowing it probably stung, but apparently Yuuri couldn’t care less as he continued to move quickly. “ Fuck, ” cried Viktor, coming down Yuuri’s throat with a loud shout as he continued to gaze at him, feeling his movements still.

Yuuri let Viktor’s cock slip out of his mouth, swallowing his come, and straightened up, coming back up to rest his head against Viktor, jerking himself with an alarming speed. Viktor brought his arms up around his neck again, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair as he held him, catching his breath, feeling Yuuri breath against the exposed skin of his shoulder. Viktor felt soft kisses pepper his neck and sighed softly, before gasping out loud as Yuuri suddenly sank his teeth into his shoulder, shuddering as he came on Viktor’s stomach and chest, their loud whines mingling.

Yuuri dropped his forehead onto Viktor’s shoulder, huffing and panting as he calmed down. Viktor held him still, playing with his hair and placing a small kiss on his temple. “That felt amazing, Yuuri,” he whispered against Yuuri’s ear, chuckling as he felt Yuuri shiver again.

“-rself, god, you’re kidding,” he heard Yuuri mumble.

He pulled back to look at him, almost laughing at the slight flush still on his cheeks.

“What was that?”

“ Sweeten yourself for me ? Jeez, Viktor, are you fucking kidding me,” groaned Yuuri, utterly mortified.

“Well, you did say it back, you know,” laughed Viktor.

“I know, oh God, I swear I hate you,” grumbled Yuuri covering his eyes with his hands, unable to look at Viktor.

Viktor laughed and hugged Yuuri, pulling his briefs back up and kissing his forehead. “I’m getting in the shower first and I will fucking end you if anything inappropriate has been done to my ingredients when I get back, Viktor,” warned Yuuri as he walked away. “No, wait for me, let’s shower together,” called Viktor almost falling as he got off the countertop and followed Yuuri, cheering when Yuuri allowed him into the bathroom with an exasperated sigh.

~

 yeah we tried something new... thanks i guess???

That was the text that Christophe received that night from a certain Yuuri Katsuki. He stared at his phone, slightly confused, till he remembered that afternoon's phone call, and grinned manically as he dialled Viktor's number to simply yell, "You're welcome," before cutting the call.

[exurbiaa]

You know what I don’t know how to make? Backgrounds. But here have Yurio in a top I saw yesterday at a store.

[exurbiaa]

“하얀 Champagne 버블에 Shower”

(EXO wyd)

(Not satisfied with this smh there’s too many errors but it’s this Christmas boy’s birthday and daddy Levi’s too bless)

[exurbiaa]

unpopular opinion

the grinch was sexy BEFORE he was played by benedict cumberbatch. if you only want to fuck the grinch because he might be played by benedict cumberbatch then DONT act like a real grinch fan when some of us have died for this. fuck you

[exurbiaa]

hooooookay finally went on that reupload spree after deleting all my fic posts on here. to anyone new: hi i’m glad you’re here please enjoy some shitty fics that update kinda late because HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAuniversityiskillingme

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 5: Backtracked Studies

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

Viktor wasn't the biggest fan of coffee. Really. He just had a slight caffeine addiction a few years back (that may or may not have led him to call Georgi up at 3 am after chugging about ten mugs of black coffee in one go and then proceed to yell at him about what an emo kid the man still was, and "I still have pictures from that one time you cosplayed Pete Wentz at the staff Halloween party")

It's just that he'd been feeling very groggy since the semester started, and they were only four days in. He groaned inwardly as he downed the last few dregs of coffee in his fourth cup since he woke up, grimacing at the fine grounds that had settled at the bottom and made their way into his mouth.

Throwing the cup into the trash, he walked into the class, trying to keep his cheerful disposition up, internally debating whether he should murder Yakov for dumping these many lectures on him this semester.

"We're short on staff this time, Viktor," Yakov had told him that morning.

"What does that have to do with me getting this ludicrous timetable?" Viktor had countered, waving his schedule very close to Yakov's face, infuriated.

"Well, you're our best, and I'm sure you can handle this very well."

"Says the bloody Professor himself, goddamit Yakov, you could've given some of this shit to Georgi. God knows, he needs some damned distraction with that girlfriend of his leaving him."

"Just do it, Vitya."

That nickname had always irked him a little but he didn't mind it all that much, at least not after Yakov had personally helped him pursue his higher education after he'd pissed his family off by taking up Languages and breaking a promising figure skating career off right when he was reaching his best.

Yakov had taken him under his wing and helped him get into a decent university, even helping him through his recommendation for Masters and being his guide for his Doctorate.

He owed a lot to Yakov, and treated him like his own father, but that wasn't going to stop him from plotting a murder scheme for the man for dumping that much work on his head and letting Georgi off.

He walked up to the desk on the platform and deposited his bag on the chair, composing himself for a moment before turning to face the class, his customary smile in place. Looking around the class, he took in their expressions.

Freshers. He actually quite enjoyed teaching them. He liked seeing how they progressed over the year. They're always so scared in the beginning, it's almost funny. So anxious and terrified of the new people they're seeing, the new language they're learning, the new teachers they're studying under. 

His eyes roamed over the purple haired boy in the back ready to doze off, the blonde girl at the left of the hall absent-mindedly twirling her pen, the black-haired boy at the front pushing his spectacles up-

He froze.

The black-haired boy at the front pushing his spectacles up.

No way it could be him. There was no way.

He watched the boy - man, as he knew better - gulp slightly as he let his eyes linger on him for a bit. He smirked a bit, a habit that Mila had constantly told him to drop, watching the man's eyes widen as the little hint sank in.

He was more than surprised to see Mr. Katsuki in his class and, honestly, a little mortified that he had fucked a student but what was done was done. Maybe they could speak about it and get past the awkwardness. He wasn't one to give a student extra marks in return for sexual favours.

It wasn't like Viktor hadn't had relationships with his students before, although he did stop it, after having had two with his older students. He always kept his professional life away from his personal life, never giving his lovers higher grades, never addressing them in the endearing terms in class he otherwise loved to address them with, never holding back on being strict with them if it came to it.

What always broke his relationships with them however, was that they never seemed to be able to distinguish between the Associate Professor Mr. Nikiforov and the disgustingly romantic Viktor Nikiforov.

They always complained about how horrid he was being to them despite loving them as much as he did. Tried to sneak in a blowjob for a B+ on an essay.

Viktor couldn't handle immature lovers. He always thought they'd understand because they were adults themselves, but apparently not.

It always ended that way and Viktor had learned his lesson during his term as an Assistant Professor, refusing to ever get into a relationship with a student again. He couldn't handle the immaturity level that sometimes came with being a student, even if they were an adult.

"Ah well, good turnout for the first day" Viktor began, chuckling to himself, not really expecting anyone to laugh as he paced around the front of the hall, the student anxiety hanging in the air like dead weight. He continued to observe the different faces all through the hall as he spoke and introduced them to his class, but found his eyes constantly drawn back to a certain Yuuri Katsuki sat in the front of the hall.

He really was quite distracting, his brown eyes shining with keen interest, his black hair a little ruffled (maybe due to the wind. There was an unusually strong wind today), his t-shirt low-cut and revealing those tantalizing collarbones, the pen in his hand distractedly scratching lines into his palm as he flicked it back and forth.

Viktor couldn't help noticing all these little details and fantasizing about more as he continued looking at him. About how fucked out that face looked when Viktor has pushed into him, about how perfect he looked with his hair pushe- No, no, fuck this is not good, no you can't get a boner thinking about your student while you're in class, goddamit Viktor, get yourself together. 

He heard a sharp sound and felt a little sting in his cheeks, as silence dropped like a curtain over the class. He looked back at his class, most of them having raised their heads to stare at him, confused. He lowered his hands, baffled, till he realized he had slapped himself with both hands in an attempt to stop thinking about Yuuri.

He glanced at Yuuri who seemed to be trying to stifle a giggle, a small smile on his face as he looked down at his little notebook.

Viktor kept his eyes off Yuuri for the rest of the class, stressed at the amount of determination to keep from looking back at this man as he listened to Viktor's lecture with such keen interest that Viktor felt quite flattered.

Viktor almost got lost speaking, unconsciously repeating the same thing he said to every fresher class he taught, and glanced down at his watch, finally registering the time and dismissing the class with a smile, faltering as soon as they left.

He picked his phone up, scrolling down his contacts to find the right one and rubbed his head, waiting for the man at the other end to pick up.

"Chris? Yes. Yes, I need a drink. I know. I'll try not to get waste- yes, I messed up. He may or may not be in my class. Jesus, stop screeching, I'll see you at 8."

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 4: Reminiscent Studies

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

"I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm" Viktor repeated like a chant as he struggled to gather his notes together, half leaning out of the car, having struggled through the night to put together something coherent to say in the second years' introduction class.

He hadn't planned to spend the night the way he had. Really, he hadn't.

His initial plans had run something along these lines: go to the bar, get a bit drunk because it was the last day of the holidays, maybe get off with someone quick against the alley wall if they got him buzzed enough, get home, work for a bit and get a good night's sleep.

What he wasn't expecting was some beautiful Japanese man to seduce him that simply and easily. Normally, it was him who did the seducing, loving the blush in the other person's cheeks at just his words, the hitch of their breath at the trail of his fingers, the little gasp as he pressed down some place sensitive. This time, it was him that was a mess, internally tripping over himself, at a loss for words to describe this man. And he knew several languages with which to describe things, thank you very much.

He certainly didn't expect to hear the man mention the same university he taught at to be the one he studied at. He'd probably spent a good fifteen minutes when he got back to his apartment trying to distract himself, finally rising off the sofa to make some coffee to shake off his drowsiness. He'd barely managed to scrape something together and finally managed a couple of hours of sleep.

He kept walking as fast he could, glancing down at his watch to look at the time, before violently slamming into someone and almost tumbling to the ground with his sheets. He immediately bent towards the ground, apologizing profusely.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He stopped for a moment and couldn't help a soft gasp.

He most certainly did not expect the aforementioned beautiful Japanese man that preoccupied his thoughts to be wincing and twisting on the ground in front of him, with a pair of glasses he definitely did not have on the night before sliding off the end of his nose.

God, he looks so attractive in those. Please tell me I don't have a goddamn boner right now it's too early for this.

"Do you need a hand up?" he asked him, finally coming back to earth. Clearly the other man hadn't come back yet as he still kept staring with the same doe eyes as yesterday, albeit with an innocence that wasn't there the previous night.

He laughed, "I’d love to stay here all day but I need to rush to my class, may I help you up, Mr. Katsuki?” That seemed to jolt Yuuri out of his reverie and he blinked once before his eyes snapped wide open and he dazedly put his hand in Viktor's.

Viktor pulled him up and bent over to retrieve the rest of his papers and spotted Yuuri's shrug off to the side. He picked it up and handed it back to him, suddenly remembering what time it was and yelling, "Well, I need to rush, I’ll see you around," over his shoulder as he hurried away, trying not to let the loose papers fly away.

Goddamit, why did he have to choose today to forget his bag at home?

The lecture that he delivered passed quickly enough, his mind in another place entirely as he attempted to introduce his class to another year of Russian culture, catching up with his students, and ribbing the few hickies he saw. Looks like he wasn't the only who got lucky last night. His distraction was quite obvious though, with some students teasingly asking him why he seemed to be stumbling over his words during his lecture.

He settled into the seat behind one of the front desks, deciding to take a few minutes to get the throbbing headache out of his head. He undid his tie as his students approached to ask him a few questions (how did they already have doubts about the lecture? He had barely taught anything) and internally chuckled as a few visibly gulped. Finally picking his papers and phone up, he left the lecture hall and headed to the staff room.

"-tor. VIKTOR!" Viktor finally awoke at the loud voice near his ear, a hand repeatedly patting his head in an annoying way. He grumbled and swatted at the hand, not sure when he'd reached his cabin and fallen asleep. That was just far too unprofessional of him, and Chris knew it, as he leaned in to ask him, "Have a good night?" winking as he did so.

"Great one, to be honest," Viktor answered as he rubbed his eyes trying to get rid of the drowsiness. His stomach let out a loud rumble and he looked at his desk clock, horrified to find that he had slept up till lunch time. Quickly grabbing his wallet, he followed Chris out of the door, walking towards the canteen.

The walk was a quick one, questions answered shortly by Viktor in his distracted state of mind. He didn't notice the mechanical motions as he ordered his usual and payed the cashier.

Why is one person weighing so heavily on my mind? Why am I this distracted?

"What's wrong? You seem awfully quiet and distracted today," came Chris' muffled voice from around a mouthful of his sandwich.

"I just... Um..."

"Did you piss off Yakov again?"

"What? No!"

"Okay, even that doesn't weigh that heavily on your mind. So, what's up? Why are you this distracted?"

"Remember how you asked me if I had a great night?"

Chris grinned, apparently ready for whatever tales came his way. Viktor knew that he sort of liked listening to Viktor about his hook-ups, especially the ones that were massive failures because it just went to show that even Viktor Nikiforov could sometimes be turned down in so harsh a manner that he spent the rest of his night sexually frustrated and terribly grumpy.

"Yeah, I do. What about it?"

"Well, um, I may have fucked up a little?

Oh, Chris looked so ready for this.

"Whatever happened, it's okay. They'll come around, you'll see. They missed a-"

"I slept with a student."

Chris frowned. Viktor wasn't sure what his reaction would be but wasn't expecting-

"- what was a high school student doing in a bar?"

"What the fuck, Chris? No, oh lord, I meant a student at this university."

"Oh. Oh shit."

"No, don't worry they were old enough. I'd put them at between 23 and 25."

"Oh, then why's that a problem?"

"Because it's a student, Chris. A student."

"Are they your student? Have you taught them or are they in your class this year?"

"No, they aren't."

"Viktor, I really don't see your problem here."

"I don't fuck students, Chris."

"Alright, first off, they aren't your student. Second, they're old enough, they're just a couple of years younger, by your estimate. Third, they aren't your student."

"So, you think I'm being irrational about this?"

"Yes. See, there would be a problem if they were your student because you might go at them again and then develop feelings and it would all be a messy situation."

"I know all of that."

"I mean, do you want to go out with them?"

"It was just a one-time thing but honestly, I wouldn't mind taking him out some time, he seemed quite lovely, even when he was drunk, and God, Chris he's so shy and adorable when he isn't drunk, I just bumped into him this morning but I was in a hurry to get to class but he has the most beautiful brown eyes and they look like rusted gold and chocolate had a child and glasses, Chris, and h-"

Viktor suddenly found a hand waving in his face and Chris yelling at him to stop.

"He sounds wonderful, Viktor. Just consider what you want to do. If you can just leave it at a one-night stand, you should. If you can't, then go out some time, see how well you get along and maybe go out more but be a discreet, I suppose."

"Are you encouraging me?"

"My man, you haven't found a steady relationship to be in for the past year and half and you've continuously been hooking up with strangers."

Viktor knew Chris was more than a bit worried about him. He hadn't taken his last relationship breaking up well, his girlfriend having left him because he was too academically focused and had wanted to get his doctorate quickly. Most of his relationships had ended because of that. Because he was too focused on his own career. Because he considered his education more important than anything else. Because he was selfish.

He'd gotten used to lovers leaving his life so often that he didn't even feel anything when she'd left. At least, not until two days later, when he snapped his pencil while jotting down notes too hard and muffled a scream into his hand. He cried almost every night after, spending every night in a dingy bar that wasn't as warm and cozy as the one he frequented, drowning himself in cheap liquor and wafting smoke from strangers' cigarettes, trying to lose himself in another's touch, but feeling no satisfaction.

It had become a dull routine that Chris had finally broken for him after a week and half, picking him up from the bar and taking him to his own house to let him snuggle against his chest, snivelling into his mug of hot chocolate.

Viktor was better after that, but still not ready for a proper relationship. He had loved her a lot. But apparently not enough. So he spent up until now satisfying someone to rid himself of that dull ache.

Up until now.

He leaned back in his seat and smiled at Chris, glad he had someone to take care of his self-destructive ass.

"We'll see."

"Speaking of which, how good was the booty though," Chris suggestively waggled his eyebrows at him.

"Power booty damn ten on ten would do again."

"I'm guessing he dominated the fuck out of you if you're this satisfied with a quick fuck after such a long time."

Viktor couldn't help his smirk as his mind replayed the scenes from last night.

"Oh, you have no idea."

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 3: Unremembered Studies

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

The loud shrill tones of Yuuri’s alarm assaulted his ears, shocking him awake. He looked over at the time, half-annoyed that he still had an hour and a half to get ready, half-relieved that he would at least be able to get over his terrible hangover. He grabbed the bottle by his bed, taking sips of water as he tried to sit up in his bed.

Okay, fuck, my ass is sore. Boy, what did I get up to last night?

He shook Phichit awake, eager to get to a coffee shop and shake the last of his hangover away. They were finally ready and out, but Yuuri couldn’t help his grimace as he tried to get around walking with a sore ass and tired thighs. It didn't seem to escape Phichit’s attention, and he turned to him with a grin, “Have fun last night, Yuuri?”

“I don’t even remember anything after Leo and Guang-hong started making out, god, I think my mind just tried to erase everything,” he groaned, nursing his coffee cup.

“Well, you left with a particularly hot guy. I mean, I couldn't see his face all too well because of the light, but he was sharply-dressed and silver-haired if I remember right,” Phichit provided, unhelpfully.

“Right. I’m guessing we got up to something last night to leave my ass this sore,” mumbled Yuuri, taking another sip of his coffee, feeling his hangover ebb away slowly. He nearly missed the mischievous grin and nudged him with his elbow, shoving his hand into his shrug’s pocket as they walked.

The rest of the day had gone by quickly enough. An orientation, a speech from the Dean of the university, and a quick look at any notices on the board. Phichit had gone to meet an old classmate who happened to be in town, and he wouldn't be back till the evening, leaving Yuuri all alone. Their class schedule hadn’t been circulated yet and there wasn't too much to do during the day, so Yuuri took it upon himself to stroll around the campus for a bit, looking for the library.

He paused at a flyer pinned up to a tree, stopping in his tracks for a moment to lean back and look at the words, barely reading what was on there before he felt a hard body collide with him, knocking his earphones out and cutting the Verdi in his ears short.

He tumbled backwards and landed on his ass, letting out a sharp cry at the pain.

Dear god, I already have a sore ass, fuck.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he heard a man’s voice ask, the accent lightly dusted Russian. He squinted through the pain, cracking his eyes open, and heard the other man inhale sharply. He leaned his weight back on his palms, shifting himself and arching a little to alleviate the pain. It was only then that he opened his eyes fully.

He couldn't help his intake of breath. He blinked a couple of times, trying to peer around the man to see if the sun was behind him.

Nope, nothing.

There was no way this man was real. His grey bangs, curled towards the end at a part, shadowed his face a little as he leaned forward to bend over Yuuri, shining silver in the sunlight, and his blue eyes looked like they could refract the soft sunrays into a thousand beautiful shards of light. Yuuri must’ve been staring for far longer (and harder) than necessary, because the stranger laughed, a lively trill, making his mouth curve into a strangely endearing heart shape as he said, “I’d love to stay here all day but I need to rush to my class, may I help you up, Mr. Katsuki?” That was what jolted Yuuri out of his reverie.

Have we met before?

No way. There was no way he knew someone this beautiful. He put his hand in the stranger’s proffered one, thin, long fingers wrapping around his own as he lifted him to his feet effortlessly, bending down to pick some stray papers up and handing Yuuri’s fallen shrug back to him. “Well, I need to rush, I’ll see you around,” called the stranger over his shoulder as he ran off, trying to hold his folders together.

Yuuri stayed rooted to his spot, unable to move, unable to think, barely able to process what just happened. He slowly put his earphones back in his ears, letting the music flow back into his ears, unthinkingly noticing the switch to Bach. He walked in the direction of the library, still in a daze.

That man had known his name. Why had he known his name? Why did he seem familiar to him?

His Russian accent and the brightness of his eyes; they made him think of soft sheets and fluffy pillows.

The trill of his voice and the softness of his lips; they reminded him of deep moans and loud pleas.

Silver hair. Silver moonlight.

Cerulean eyes. Cerulean walls. 

Yuuri didn't know why this man reminded him of things that made him blush. But he still couldn't control the deep flush in his cheeks as he pushed the library door open, wincing at the small creak, afraid of disturbing the small groups gathered by the tables.

He shook his head as he walked through the aisles between the shelves, not noticing the brown haired woman reaching up towards a shelf to place something till he ran into her. He put an arm out to stabilize them both, only ending up pushing the one remaining book out of her arms, straight onto his foot.

"FU-" Yuuri felt a soft hand come down onto his mouth to muffle his loud, involuntary curse.

"Quiet down boy, no yelling. This is a damn library. Sorry for the book bu-"

Yuuri wrenched her hand away, mostly to draw in a gasp of breath but also to bow down before launching into an apologetic tirade.

"I'm so sorry I didn't see you there I was just wandering about and searching for a read but I didn't notice you were there and-"

"Shush it's okay just help me out and put these books on that shelf."

The lady shoved some books into his hand from the ground, dusting the covers a little, and waved at a particular section as she carefully placed books from her own stack onto another shelf.

"So what are you here for?"

"Oh, um, a major in Russian and Slavonic studies."

"Languages, huh? Not often that I see a Japanese kid in Detroit for something like languages. Couldn't you have gone to Europe?"

"Well I had more options and the course seemed to have a lot of interesting parts to it."

"True. Plus you have the great Nikiforov himself so you're much better off here."

That name seemed to set off alarm bells in Yuuri's head but he wasn't quite sure why, and he ignored it to continue their conversation.

"You mentioned you wanted to get a read here. What were you looking for?"

"Um, nothing in particular, really. Maybe something by a Russian author, since I'm going to be majoring in the language anyway."

"Take this. Most interesting Russian read if I ever found one."

"Crime and Punishment?"

"Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Bloody brilliant man. It should keep you entertained for a while."

"Oh, thank you, miss..."

"Minako Okinawa. Skip the miss, it sounds strange."

"Well, thank you, Minako-sensei," beamed Yuuri, feeling comfortable after having someone to address as a sensei.

Minako's grey eyes glinted even as she scowled a little at the name.

Well, at least that's a little something to make me feel at home here, thought Yuuri, all thoughts of the grey-haired stranger gone from his mind.

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 2: Carnal Studies

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

Viktor couldn't help his double-take as he took in the stranger next to him. Wide eyes slightly hazy under the effect of alcohol, his black hair falling into his eyes as he stared at Viktor from under long lashes.

He was breathtaking in the simplest of ways.

Viktor mentally shook himself, trying to come back to his flirtatious manner, because dear lord, would he do anything to take this beautiful man home tonight.

“Well, hello,” he turned halfway in his seat to to gesture at the bartender. “Yes, another whiskey please, and one for Mister...” he trailed off, silently asking for the stranger’s name, bringing his eyes back from the silently seething bartender to this man’s face.

“Katsuki,” he offered, getting the hint. It would have to do for now.

“Pleasure,” purred Viktor, looking Mr. Katsuki over, his eyes lingering at the fair skin exposed by his hoodie rucking up at the side.

"Viktor Nikiforov, by the way," he said, trying to put on an air of confidence that he barely felt around this beautiful man, dropping his voice to a low rumble, pulling himself closer.

Katsuki smiled, a small movement of his lips, before bringing his attention back to his hands and wrapping them around the tumbler of whiskey the bartender set before him.

“So, Mr. Katsuki,” started Viktor, bringing his own tumbler to his lips to take a sip.

“Yuuri, please,” said Yuuri Katsuki, looking bemused at such a formal pronunciation of his name, peering over the top of the glass.

“Alright then, Yuuri , what brings you here today? I don't believe I’ve ever seen you around,” stated Viktor, swirling the contents of his glass.

“Just a little celebratory drink for finally making it into university,” informed Yuuri.

Oh, he’s young.

“Are you sure you should be out drinking here then? As a responsible citizen and a professor myself, I wouldn’t condone something like this” joked Viktor, clearly not meaning it. God knows he’s done enough shit “illegally” in his own time as a student.

“Don’t worry,” chuckled Yuuri. “I’m old enough for an occasional whiskey. I just joined university a few years late is all.”

Well at least I won't feel guilty fucking someone too young then.

“Ah, so this would be your first year. No wonder I've never seen you before.”

“You speak as if you know everyone here.”

“Well I've definitely caught the eye of almost every patron in this place, and this place doesn’t attract many people outside of it’s usual customers.”

“And…?” It was like Yuuri seemed to know that he hadn't just “caught the eyes” of those people.

“Fucked them till they begged too,” grinned Viktor.

Yuuri flashed Viktor a devilish smirk before leaning towards his ear. Viktor felt a slight huff of air before he heard Yuuri say, warm and sensuous. “Well, it looks like I’m the one who caught your eye tonight, Mr. Nikiforov. Would you like a little change and be the one begging to be fucked tonight?”

Viktor shivered at the sound of his name being said that way, wondering what that smooth voice would sound like crying his name into the night. Anything for you, oh god.

Yuuri pulled back a little just enough to stare at him before he felt a forceful press of lips on his own. Viktor blinked once, sliding his eyes shut and letting his jaw go slack. He felt Yuuri’s tongue run along his lower lip once, before nipping it lightly and pulling back, hooded brown eyes now blown almost black, turning back to down the rest of his drink, and walking away to another booth.

Viktor avoided the bartender’s indignant stare as he looked down at his tumbler and quickly drank it down, pausing to dab at his lips and pick his coat up. He walked to the door, watching as Yuuri said something to a boy in one of the booths, pointedly ignoring the two other teenagers feeling each other up, and sauntered back to the door.

They tumbled into a cab, Viktor letting his hands run all over Yuuri’s body as they waited and got in. He relished in the feel of Yuuri’s soft skin as he ran his hands over a toned abdomen, letting his lips press into Yuuri’s. He ran his hands over thick thighs, appreciating the promise of strength in the taut muscles, letting Yuuri’s tongue slip between his lips to lick into his mouth. He felt Yuuri tug on his hair and he let out a small moan, ceasing to care entirely about where they were, letting Yuuri pull his head back to kiss down his jaw.

It was over too soon as they pulled up in front of Viktor’s apartment, Yuuri pulling away from Viktor’s neck with a low sigh, throwing the cab’s door open and walking towards the entrance. Viktor paid the driver and took a moment to appreciate Yuuri confident stride, his hips swaying slightly in a provocative manner. Viktor wasn't sure if he was doing that on purpose or if the softness on his hips just caused him to do that, but he sure wasn't complaining.

Viktor felt himself pushed up against the elevator wall as soon as the doors slid shut, Yuuri clearly disregarding the little red blink of the camera, his hands already roaming to the front of his shirt to pop the buttons open slowly, kissing each inch of slowly-revealed skin. Viktor let out a shuddering breath as the doors slid open, leading Yuuri out and fumbling for his keys in his coat. He felt hands slip around his chest, continuing their roaming and unbuttoning, leaving cold trails in their wake, the draft in the corridor hitting his exposed chest.

He finally got the door open, and Yuuri pushed him in against the wall, kicking the door shut with his leg. “Mm, well at least now I get to do exactly what I want, right?” hummed Yuuri, leaning up to Viktor’s ear, nipping it a little. Viktor felt a little shiver go through him, letting out a soft moan. Yuuri had opened all the buttons of his shirt, his tie still holding the collar in place, holding Viktor’s hands over his head with one hand, letting the other roam over his side, making Viktor tremble. His tongue worked heavily against Viktor’s own, occasionally pausing to suck his top lip into his mouth.

His roaming hand finally came to stop at Viktor’s nipple, cold against the nub, applying pressure on it. Viktor gasped against Yuuri’s mouth, felt his smirk trail down his neck as he left bites and sucked on the skin near his collarbones. Viktor let out a rough groan, arching and pushing into the sensation.

Yuuri’s satisfied hum was the only warning Viktor had before he felt Yuuri push his thigh into his crotch, grinding it hard against his erection, while bringing his mouth down to his other nipple, flicking it hard. The noise Viktor let out was animalistic, his knees going weak, slipping down the wall a little, effectively grinding into Yuuri’s thigh even harder. He brought a hand down to fist in those black strands, to keep Yuuri in place, and whisper, “Oh, fuck, yes .”

He was suddenly cold as he felt Yuuri’s mouth leave his chest, whimpering at the loss, before he felt Yuuri slam his wrists back over his head, a hand working to loosen his belt. “You do not,” the belt slid free of the loops, “touch me,” Yuuri looped it around Viktor’s wrists, “or yourself”, and tightened it, “till I say so,” flashing a falsely innocent smile, “got it, Viktor?” he purred, lifting Viktor’s head to his own and bringing his lips down in an open-mouthed kiss. Viktor let his jaw open, making way for Yuuri’s tongue. Yuuri sucked on his lip for a moment before pulling away, his eyes dark, and mumbled, “Bedroom?” as he mouthed at Viktor’s jaw. Viktor pointed at the bedroom door, and Yuuri smiled, holding the tie still around Viktor’s neck in one hand and dragging Viktor towards the bedroom with it like a leash. And Viktor found that he didn't mind this in the slightest .

“Oohh this is really nice, Viktor,” said Yuuri, plopping down onto the edge of the bed, looking out at the view. Viktor took a moment to let the sight of this beautiful man in his bedroom sink in, his face lit softly by the moonlight streaming in through the wall-to-wall window on one side, and glowing from the light of the bedside lamp on the other.

He sighed, dropping to his knees in front of Yuuri, almost reverential. Yuuri turned back to Viktor, smirking a little at the sight. He dragged Viktor up by the tie, bringing his face close to his, a devious grin on his face, dropping his voice to a low rumble, and asked “What do you want Viktor?” Everything. Oh God, everything. I want you on top of me, I want you on your back, I want you around me, I want you…

“... inside my mouth,” mumbled Viktor, unaware that his last words had come out loud. “Oh, is that so?” smiled Yuuri. He kissed Viktor once, a soft peck on his lips at complete odds with how he handled the tie, loosening his grip on it and leaning back on his elbows. He palmed himself slowly through his jeans, head thrown back, low moans arising from his throat.

Viktor reached over to Yuuri’s jeans and nudged his hand aside with his cheek, pulling the zipper down using his teeth, hearing Yuuri groan, his hands sliding into his hair. Viktor peppered wet, open-mouth kisses to Yuuri’s boxers, pulling away to see the growing wetness, and reached over to peel them off too with his teeth. “Well, aren’t you skilled with your mouth,” chuckled Yuuri, panting a little, his cock curving in front of Viktor’s face, glistening with drops of pre-come. Viktor licked his lips and leaned forward to give his tip a forceful lick. He felt the grip in his hair tighten, and he kissed the head, before slipping his lips over it and sucking it lightly, hearing the groan above his head.

“Well, don’t just kiss it,” said Yuuri, breath coming in huffs. Viktor looked him straight in the eye as he sank down his shaft in a smooth motion, taking almost all of it into his mouth, letting it hit the back of his throat, hearing Yuuri scream in pleasure. He had long learned how to control his gag reflex . He pulled off slowly, dragging his teeth lightly at the end, and licked it from the base to the tip, glancing up at Yuuri as he did so. “God, yes,” moaned Yuuri, thrusting slowly into Viktor’s mouth. Viktor hummed around his dick as he moved up and down a few more times, finally pulling off when he felt sharp tugs on his hair.

He looked up to see Yuuri slowly pulling the hoodie over his head, his movements slow and sensual, rippling around the lithe muscles of his arms and shoulders, his head coming up and his hair disheveled. “Much better,” he heard Yuuri murmur, before being dragged up by the tie, and being spun around and pushed back on the bed. Yuuri loomed over him, resting his weight on a forearm as he pushed Viktor’s bound hands back above his head.

Viktor felt his fingers drag across his jaw, tilting his chin up, and running over his lips. Viktor’s lips parted slightly, allowing Yuuri to push his fingers in, and wrapped his lips around his fingers. He moved his head down slowly towards the second knuckle, coating the fingers smoothly. He pulled off briefly to say, “Bedside drawer,” before resuming, slipping his tongue between his fingers and sucking hard, coating each of them. Yuuri hummed in acknowledgement and distractedly reached over to take the lube and a condom, watching Viktor. Viktor felt his fingers put pressure against his tongue, pressing down. Viktor’s eyes watered as he let out a soft gag, looking over at Yuuri, his breathing coming heavy and his fingers tracing lazily over his cock.

“Such a slut,” purred Yuuri, and dragged his fingers out of Viktor’s mouth, resting them on his chin as he opened the bottle of lube. He dragged them back to pour it over his fingers, rubbing them together a little to warm it up. He looked over at Viktor and seemed to realise something, as he reached over to Viktor’s hand and pulled the belt loose.

“Viktor,” he crooned, laying on the bed next to him, “Won’t you strip for me?” There was no way he could deny that tone. Viktor slid off the bed and walked over to Yuuri’s side, slowly taking his shirt off along with his blazer, rolling his shoulders slowly as he pulled the sleeves off. He watched as Yuuri raised his knees up, bringing a finger down to his ass, pushing and rubbing between the cheeks, slowly teasing himself. Viktor watched with hooded eyes, taking his trousers off with his boxers, desperate to touch , to feel , as Yuuri slipped a finger inside himself, humming and rubbing. His cock twitched as he put a condom on, watching Yuuri insert another finger in, stretching himself further and slowly thrusting in and out.

“Touch me, Viktor,” crooned Yuuri, his eyes snapping open when Viktor pushed his finger beside Yuuri’s own, feeling his hips grind down, a loud moan escaping his mouth and forming a drawn out, “Yes,” towards the end.

Viktor kissed down Yuuri’s neck as he thrust their fingers in and out, returning one or two of the bites he had on his own skin onto Yuuri’s collarbones, moving down to swipe his tongue lightly across his nipples. Yuuri arched his hips at that, letting a shout out as their fingers apparently hit his prostate. Viktor grinned and rubbed into the spot relentlessly, enjoying the little pants Yuuri let out each time.

“Enough,” he heard Yuuri say, his tone somewhere between a growl and a purr, and he felt his finger slip out as a hand came up to push him onto his back. Yuuri straddled Viktor’s hips, rubbing his ass against Viktor’s cock and reaching to take Viktor’s tie off. He brought Viktor’s wrists back together and put the tie around them, looping the free end around the bedpost and securing it.

“Yuuri, please, I need you,” whined Viktor, writhing as Yuuri leaned back and continued his torturous grinding on Viktor’s cock. “Mm, what was that?” teased Yuuri, innocent, even as he loosely fisted his cock, lifting his hips to press the head of Viktor’s cock against his hole. Viktor gasped aloud at the sensation and cried, “Oh god, please fuck me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri grinned wide as he fully sank down on Viktor’s cock in one smooth motion. Viktor almost missed the low moan Yuuri let out, drowned out by his own.

Viktor never thought he could let out as loud a scream as he did in that moment, his hips jumping, back arching immediately as he threw his head back and cried out loud.

Fuck, that felt unreal .

He looked back to see Yuuri rolling his hips slightly, adjusting. He smirked as he rocked on Viktor’s cock, letting his hands roam all over the expanse of Viktor’s chest as Viktor cried out, overwhelmed at the rough sensation. “ Fuck, Yuuri,” he gasped, his mouth hanging open.

Yuuri brought his hands back to his own face, pushing his bangs back and arching his back as he picked up his pace, bouncing slightly on Viktor’s cock, riding him slowly.

That should not look as hot as it does, oh Lord, help.

Yuuri leaned forward, his thighs spreading further as he let his lips hover over Viktor’s, his arms coming to rest on either side of his head. He caught Viktor’s lips in a hurried kiss, and Viktor felt a low moan push into his lips with Yuuri’s tongue. Yuuri continued to lick into his mouth, and bit down on it a little, and Viktor felt a gasp against his mouth and a low “ Oh~ ” before he felt Yuuri start to thrust faster, his breath coming quicker as he fucked himself against his prostate.

Viktor let out a desperate moan at the change of pace as he savoured in the feeling of Yuuri fucking him, the other’s cock dragging across his stomach. “Yuuri, oh God , I’m going to come,” he sobbed, letting out another moan, as he felt Yuuri’s thrusts get harder and more erratic.

“Come for me, Viktor,” rasped Yuuri, his voice low and breathy against Viktor’s ear, and he felt him bite down, a sharp flash of pain as pleasure took over him. His hips bucked up into Yuuri, eyes shutting tight, whimpering his name as he felt Yuuri sit up and lean back into the sensation.

He collapsed against the bedsheets, and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of Yuuri lazily fucking himself on his softening cock, fisting his own quickly, eyebrows pulled together in satisfaction as he tilted his head back. He watched his mouth drop open, a satisfied moan of “Mm, Viktor ,” escaping. Viktor let out a low groan at the whisper of his name, watching as he came, spilling all over Viktor’s stomach, a few drops landing on his chest. Both of them were panting, coming down slowly from their high.

Viktor was beyond over-stimulated at this point, and he whined low, indicating subtly that he needed Yuuri to get off. Yuuri reached over to untie Viktor’s hands, lifted himself off and collapsed onto the bed, throwing a hand over his eyes. Viktor leaned against the bedpost, both of them taking a moment to catch their breath, before he got up to get a wet towel and clean himself off.

“That, Mr. Katsuki,” he started as he stepped back into the room, watching as the other man turned to look at him, curling up on his side, “Was some of the best sex I’ve had in a long time.” He watched Yuuri smirk as he took the towel from him, wiping himself down as he said, “Of course it was,” amusement shining in his face at his own quip.

Viktor chuckled and stared as Yuuri put his clothes back on, wincing a little at the sore feeling in his ass. “Sure you don’t want to stay?” Viktor pouted a little. Yuuri pouted back exaggeratedly, “No, I have classes in the morning and I’d rather not be late on the first day, thank you very much.”

“Well, at least let me hail a taxi for you, you don’t look too well,” he asked, getting off the bed to put his own clothes on. “Sure, thanks,” Yuuri replied, sitting on the bed as Viktor dressed.

Viktor accompanied Yuuri downstairs, flagging down a cab, and getting Yuuri inside. As Yuuri leaned over to tell the driver the location of the dorms, Viktor heard the university’s name, and froze. Yuuri waved at him as he left, and he waved back weakly.

It was the same place as the one he taught at.

Viktor strolled back to the building.

Shit.

He leaned against the elevator wall, thinking.

Well, considering his still-heavy accent, I’d say he moved from Japan probably, and no one moves here for language studies so I should be okay.

Viktor stripped as he entered his apartment and got back in bed.

It's okay.

[exurbiaa]

Slavonic Studies 1: Opening Studies

Yuuri sleeps with a hot stranger the night before university begins but surprise, surprise.

Warning: Explicit

Read on AO3

The flash blinded his eyes fleetingly, making him wince. He took a step away from the hideous green background sheet, blinking and rubbing away the flash blindness from behind his glasses. “Your name, sir?” asked the lady at the registration desk. “Yuuri Katsuki,” he replied, giving the rest of his details before flashing the woman a small smile and leaving the room.

Practically bounding out of the room, he pulled out his phone and texted his mother, informing her that he’d finally got his registration sorted and he’d be starting classes soon. He thanked the stranger sat near the door for looking after his bag, and dragged it behind him, walking out into the brisk morning wind. He’d finally gotten into the University of his choice, and he couldn’t be happier about it. Even if he was far away from Japan, all the way in Detroit, he was happy.

He’d struggled through the entrance exams for the scholarship, occasionally dropping onto his roommate Phichit’s bed in the middle of the night to wail about how stressful it all was while chugging a mug full of black coffee and highlighting far too many lines in his already-shortened notes. He’d sat several nights in bed, trembling against a tightly-clutched pillow, home-sick beyond belief in a city he barely knew. He’d almost messed up his paper, the night before having gone by sobbing against Phichit, having heard that his beloved dog had died.

All of it. All of that pain had been worth it. All he had to worry about for the next few days would be finding out who his assigned roommate was and whether he would get along with them, and who his professors were.

He tugged his bag to the dorm, and went up to his assigned room. He pushed open the door distractedly, staring down at his phone while texting his mother. Before he could look up however, he was assaulted by a tempestuous embrace, stumbling backwards, momentarily confused about his apparently over-affectionate roommate. That was until he heard a voice practically screech his name into his ear. Overjoyed, he lifted Phichit a bit off the ground while laughing into his shoulder, genuinely ecstatic at having someone familiar, no, his best friend, be his roommate.

Oh well, that prevents me from using a lot of the awkward ice-breakers I had in mind, thank the Lord.

He spent the rest of the day alternating between unpacking his suitcase and listening to Phichit update him about all the college drama that was brewing (seriously, how did this kid even manage to get the gossip barely ten minutes into stepping foot on this campus?) while munching on some arare that he had managed to buy from a store nearby that seemed to have a ton of imported items (which they probably had for home-sick students like him).

“Okay, but listen,” exclaimed Phichit, as though Yuuri hadn’t been doing just that for the past six hours. “Rumour has it that there’s this really hot Russian professor here who teaches the ‘Russian and Saltic--”

“Slavic, Phichit, not Saltic,” Yuuri interrupted, chuckling at his minor mistake.

“Slave ice, saltic. What does it matter anyway? Okay, so apparently this professor’s really young. Like he’s supposed to be this prodigy or something because he just recently got his PhD and he’s an associate professor and to top it all off, he’s supposed to be hot as fuck.”

“Well he doesn’t sound particularly young if he got his PhD. How old is he? 29?” Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised, honestly. A lot of teenagers found older men hot and this couldn’t be an exception.

“Close. He’s 27.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri wasn’t expecting that. The man was just four years older than him. He immediately felt something drop in his stomach, his old self-consciousness washing over him again. This man had a PhD and a position as an associate professor at the age of 27, while Yuuri would just be graduating college around that age. He chewed on his lip, lost in his self-deprecatory thoughts, ignoring Phichit almost entirely.

Yuuri had initially taken a degree in computer science after his gap year, finding the idea of the course interesting. Once he joined the course, however, he realised how utterly boring he found the degree, not entirely sure what drew him to the course in the first place, and promptly dropped out after a year.

He spent two years after that helping his father manage Yu-topia Akatsuki along with the rest of the family. Those two years had to have been some of his dullest years. Years spent doing nothing but beaming at guests as he brought them snacks, guiding people to the showers, informing foreigners about the etiquettes of the onsen. Years spent skating at the local ice rink and practising figure skating to keep his boredom and anxiety at bay.

But it was eye-opening enough, sparking his old high-school interest in languages as he interacted with foreigners. He’d always been active in the English club and had tried to learn a couple of other languages by himself, his interest flitting between the many languages he heard every day at the onsen.

He had finally sat next to his father at the kotatsu after dinner one night, asking if he could go back to university for another course. He expected his father to be confused and ask questions, but instead got an over-enthusiastic of course followed by questions on what he would be taking and where he would join and how he hoped the university he wanted to go to was close to Hasetsu. When Yuuri weakly informed him that the university that had the course he wanted was all the way in Detroit, his father’s face had visibly fallen, but apparently only because Yuuri would be far away.

An encouraging pat, several phone calls and emails to the university later, Yuuri had finally kissed his mother and hugged his father goodbye at the airport, promising to keep in touch and try for the scholarship. But he was scared. So scared. Of failure. Of fucking up again. Of rejecting this course too. Of not finding friends. Of strange places.

Of everything.

But he didn’t need to be. Not with him finding a place so easily. Not with Phichit being the friendliest person he’d ever met in his life, let alone this city. Not with him rediscovering his love of languages as he prepared for the scholarship test. Not with him discovering how truly beautiful this city was.

He was brought back to earth by a concerned Phichit snapping his fingers in front of his face and tracing his thumb near his eye, holding the side of his face with one hand. “Hey, you with me, buddy?” he questioned, quite obviously worried.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. I’m okay,” replied Yuuri, feeling a bit pathetic as he dabbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Yuuri. It’ll be okay. You’re finally in, see? It paid off, didn’t it?” prompted Phichit, attempting to cheer him up.

“Sure. It did. I’m okay, really,” smiled Yuuri, his thoughts ebbing away as Phichit grinned at him, and then glanced at the clock behind him.

“Look at that, it’s almost 8 PM. Well, I’d promised Leo I’d find your sulky ass and drag you to the bar for a couple of drinks to celebrate.”

“Phichit... none of you are of legal drinking age yet.”

“See, that’s why you’re buying the alcohol tonight for us?”

“Phichit...”

“Oh, don’t worry. Guang-Hong isn’t a drinker anyway and Leo doesn’t drink anything more than one beer at most.”

“Guang-Hong’s coming too?”

“Well, it was Leo who invited us...”

“Just know that I do not condone this, mister.”

“Okay, grandpa,” yelled Phichit as he ran into the washroom to get changed. Yuuri dropped his head on his hand, sighing theatrically into the silence. Well, they did have a few more days to shift all their stuff into the dorm and he was quite happy so he supposed he could go out for a drink. He moved to pick a comfortable grey hoodie and jeans out of his suitcase and knocked on the bathroom door, telling Phichit not to take his own sweet time. Things could go wrong over a few drinks, but not much.

An hour of banging on the door and napping out of frustration later, they finally arrived at the bar, waving at Guang-Hong and Leo sat in a booth off near the corner. Yuuri went over to the bar counter to get them some drinks, making sure to order something non-alcoholic for Guang-Hong. Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure what transmuted the rest of them over the next half an hour (definitely alcohol for Phichit. And he promised he would be responsib- oh wait, no, he didn’t), but for some reason, Leo had Guang-Hong pushed up by the side of the booth and was peppering him with kisses while grinning at Guang-Hong’s giggles, and Phichit was dry-sobbing about the hot Korean stranger in the booth right across.

I need a proper drink. Now.

He untangled himself from the mess that was Phichit’s limbs clinging to him, and walked over to the counter, sitting on one of the bar stools and ordering a shot of whiskey for himself to clear the image of the two kids making out.

He downed the shot, scrunching his nose at the taste, and resting his head against his hands clasped around the miniscule glass, smacking his tongue to get rid of the last of the flavour. At least the drink warmed him a bit, eased any leftover tension from his minor meltdown a few hours back. He turned his head a little to his side, head still on his hands, tired eyes widening a little at the sight of the stranger sat next to him.

It was the alcohol. It had to be the alcohol. There was no logical way for someone to actually be glowing around the edges like an ethereal being radiating the purest of energies. Yuuri blinked a couple of times, reaching up to his glasses and scrubbing the surface of his glasses to make sure there was nothing refracting his vision.

Nope, nothing.

The man in front of him was definitely glowing. It cut through the slight haze of smoke and dimmed the already-dull neon lighting. His grey bangs cascaded lightly into his face, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he smirked at the bartender, head tilted to the side and resting on the heel of one hand, shamelessly flirting with him. He was beautiful, and he knew it. He knew exactly the effect he had on the bartender, making the man blush as he ran feather-light touches across with thin, long fingers. His voice rang clear to those around him, even over the loud music of the dingy bar, his English slightly accented, his voice slightly deep. He laughed at something the bartender said, a lively trill, making his mouth curve into a strangely endearing heart shape.

Yuuri must’ve been staring for far longer (and harder) than necessary, because as soon as the stranger’s eyes landed on him, it was the stranger who did a slight double-take, not Yuuri.

“Well, hello. Yes, another whiskey please, and one for Mister...” the stranger trailed off.

“Katsuki,” offered Yuuri.

“Pleasure,” purred the stranger, dragging his eyes up and down Yuuri, scrutinising him.

"Viktor Nikiforov, by the way," he said, his voice rumbling low and deep as he pulled himself closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri didn't think he'd heard a prettier name anywhere.