Your blood 》Yuri On Ice

☆ Dinner ☆

Ehem... SMUT ALERT

Victor Nikiforov

I will shamelessly admit that Yuri frying rice is hotter than the fire under the pan. His face is slightly flushed from the seam hitting it, he's pushed his glasses back into his hair which has forced it to stay out of his pretty eyes and I am so happy he didn't bother to take off his training clothes because they hug his body so well. His leggings hug that sweet ass so well.

The Yuri on ice tune interrupts my sinful daydreams about my boyfriends ass; Yuri turns the fire on low and answers his phone, speaking Japanese too fast for me to recognize let alone understand.

"Victor" Once again I crane my neck to see behind the sofa, Yuri still looks to be on the phone but he's addressing me now.

"Hm?"

"it's the JSF guy, he's asking whether we want a 23rd flight or a 26th flight to Barcelona" I smile at the way he says Barcelona. He says it the proper way.

"Let's get the 23rd flight" Yuri nods in agreement and resumes rambling in Japanese to the guy on the other line. Since the short program is on the 27th, flying a day before is cutting it way too close, plus, It would be nice to spend my birthday in Barcelona.

The sound of Yuri's endearing native language ceases and he reverts to English; "Victor there are crumbs all over the table! how many times do I need to tell you to clear up after yourself?"

"Sorry mum" I flash Yuri a shit eating grin as he cuts his eyes back at me; "I'll wipe the table this time, you get the cutlery" I put my book down with a sigh and get up as Yuri stomps into the kitchen. I've never been good at anything domestic; I started off living with my dad's servants at the colony and transitioned to being served by Jewels lovely butlers and maids. for those reasons I can't cook, I forget to make my bed, I don't clear up after myself, I don't wash dishes, I don't know how a washing machine works and I'm just a generally useless person when it comes to domestic qualities.

When I enter the kitchen Yuri purposely barges into me as he walks past and naturally I respond with an underhanded slap of the ass. Satisfied at his surprised squeak, I retrieve chopsticks for Yuri and European cutlery for myself. I can use chopsticks, but not with rice. I'm not a chopstick sensei yet.

"You alright Yuri? You look flustered" With a smirk, I lean against the sofa back and watch him pass the cloth over the table with flushed cheeks.

"Fuck you" Yuri grumbles, working the cloth into the table with even more conviction.

"No honey, you're supposed to say 'I want to fuck you Victor' " I tease , trying to mimic his voice.

"Well maybe I don't" Before I can come back with another snide comment Yuri stretches to cover the far end of the table and oh. my. god.

I don't want rice for dinner. I want ass for dinner.

In 0.02 seconds I drop the cutlery on the table and get behind Yuri, my hands pressing into either side of the table so he has nowhere to escape.

"V- What are you d-doing?" He tries to wriggle away but I press myself into him, causing me to get instantly hard. The felling of his butt on me is too god for that not to happen.

"You look so good Yuri, I can't hold back" I growl into the back of his neck before sliding my tongue over it several times, as if its ice cream;

"Bend over" I command in a voice so low and gruff I don't even recognize it as mine.

"T-there's a time and a place for things like this Victor" He whimpers, attempting to sound assertive. I wont deny he has a point, we're at the dinner table and there's food on the fire. But I don't need food if my dinner is right in front of me, at the dinner table. So, for me, this is a good time and a good place.