Work Text:
Viktor put down the eyeliner, took a step back from the mirror, and regarded himself.
Why are you getting all dolled up? he could hear Chris say from the back of his head. You’re just going to your local watering hole by yourself. Viktor ignored him and picked up his bottle of cologne.
Ten minutes and four shirts later, he deemed himself as hot as he was ever going to be, shrugged on his jacket, and called a farewell to Makkachin. The evening air was October-brisk and would hopefully bring some color to his pale cheeks, which would only be a bonus. After a quick journey down the block and around the corner, he took a deep breath and entered the bar.
Super Bario was always mildly busy on Saturday nights, lonely singles having meet-cutes over the old-fashioned arcade games lined up against the walls, but the crowd seemed to part as Viktor walked in, giving him a perfect view of the figure behind the counter. As Viktor watched, Yuuri laughed at something a patron said, hands wrapped around a cocktail shaker. Yuuri poured the drink and slid it across the bar, and then he looked up and his eyes met Viktor’s.
He’s working, Viktor told himself, he’s working and he’s got to smile at everyone, but it did nothing to quell the butterflies in his stomach as Yuuri lit up at the sight of him and beckoned him over.
“I’ve got something for you,” Yuuri said, leaning conspiratorially over the bar as Viktor approached. “Your usual?”
“Yes please.” Viktor seated himself on one of the stools and watched Yuuri work. “What’ve you got?”
Yuuri produced a bowl of strawberries and a blender from under the bar and looked over at a pair hunched over the Pac-Man machine. “They’ve been in here for six hours,” he whispered. “Split the drinks fifty-fifty so far, but she bought the food.”
Viktor looked closer at the couple as Yuuri poured rum and lime juice into the blender. “Wait, I recognize them.”
Yuuri nodded, grinning. “They’re regulars, they’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, he finally made a move today. Hold on.” He hit the blender, pulsing the contents until they were smooth. “What do you think? Will they make it?”
Viktor regarded the pair. She was the one playing, but her eyes kept drifting to his face, and he kept biting back a smile. “I say so,” Viktor declared. “They look sweet.”
“I think so too,” Yuuri said. He poured the mixture into a glass, garnished it with half a strawberry and a lime slice, and presented it to Viktor. “There you go.”
“Perfect as always,” Viktor said, accepting the glass. Yuuri threw him another smile and moved on to help another patron.
“I finally saw your spread in GQ last week,” Yuuri said during the next lull, when he drifted back over to Viktor’s spot at the bar. “I liked it. You shoot that man a lot.”
“Thanks,” Viktor said, warming to his toes. “That’s Chris, he’s a personal friend of mine, and always willing to strip down for a good cause.”
“The good cause being a paycheck?” Yuuri asked with a smile. Viktor shrugged, grinning, and Yuuri laughed. “I respect that,” he went on. “People are so uptight about nudity.”
“True,” Viktor said. “I’m running out of people in this town I haven’t shot a hundred times. Hard to find people willing to take the plunge.” He sipped at his daiquiri.
Yuuri unaccountably blushed and started fiddling with a cocktail napkin. “Well, I’d volunteer, but, you know.”
Viktor shifted on his stool, his wretched cock taking a decided interest in the thought of Yuuri stripped bare before his camera. “Not comfortable with it? I understand.”
Yuuri shook his head, still looking at the napkin in his hands. “It’s not that. It’s just, who’d want to see me naked?”
Viktor put his glass down. “Yuuri. You’d be a great model. I’d be delighted to shoot you.”
Yuuri blushed harder. “Nah, it’s okay, I know I’m too fat. I always kind of wanted to model, but, well. Wrong body type.”
Viktor shook his head vehemently. “There’s no such thing as a wrong body type, Yuuri. I’ve shot thin people and I’ve shot fat people, and all of them sell, and sell well. Confidence and beauty is what matters, and you’ve got both in spades.”
Yuuri looked up at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Now it was Viktor’s turn to blush. “Um. Yes? I’m a photographer, spotting beauty is what I do. And, uh, you’ve got it,” he managed.
Yuuri bit his lip, regarding him. A swell of noise came from behind Viktor, the door to the bar opening and admitting a crowd of giggly people. Yuuri held Viktor’s gaze for a moment longer, smiled at him almost shyly, and moved off to take their orders.
The bar was only going to get busier, Viktor reflected. Time to bow out. He pulled out his wallet and laid a tenner on the table, and then, after a moment’s agonized consideration, placed one of his business cards on top of it. He grabbed a pen from a nearby cup on the bar, scrawled Call me? on the card, and set his empty glass on top of both before departing.
——
Unknown number : were you serious about taking my picture?
Unknown number: this is yuuri, by the way, from super bario
Viktor : yuuri! hi! yes, i was 100% serious, you’d make a wonderful model for my work
Yuuri 💕⭐️👀 : i’m interested
Viktor : that’s wonderful! shall we set up a call to talk details?
Yuuri 💕⭐️👀: sure, that sounds good
——
Viktor fiddled with the lighting fixture for the fifth time before snatching his hands away. It was fine. Everything was fine, everything was ready, all he needed was Yuuri. Who should be there any moment. And then he would get naked. Damn it, Nikiforov, be professional. Viktor had seen countless people naked, many of them quite attractive. This would be no different.
The doorbell dinged. The camera showed Yuuri, wrapped in a sweet fuzzy coat and bouncing on his toes. Viktor buzzed him in and did a quick lap of the studio to burn off some energy while Yuuri climbed the stairs. Wouldn’t do to be too twitchy when Yuuri got in.
The studio door creaked open. “Viktor?” Yuuri asked, poking his head in and looking around.
“Yuuri! Hello!” Viktor chirped. “Come in, come in. Drop your coat and your bag in the corner.” Yuuri did so, toeing off his shoes as well. “Did you find the studio okay?”
“Your directions were very precise,” Yuuri said with a smile. He padded into the studio proper and took a look around. “Wow, it looks great.”
Viktor had called in several favors and procured a free-standing counter and several barstools, along with a rolling drinks rack and a minifridge. “Glad you like it!”
Yuuri took a look at the contents of the rack and fridge. From closer up, Viktor could see that he was wearing makeup, just as Viktor had instructed. “So I’ll just be mixing up a few drinks, right? Looks like you got everything I’ll need.”
“Yup!” Viktor said. “All virgin, of course.” He couldn’t have either of them getting tipsy.
“Can’t relate,” Yuuri said, shooting him a sudden, wolfish grin. Viktor felt all the blood rush to his cheeks, which must have been visibly radiating heat. Yuuri winked. Be professional, Nikiforov.
“Right,” Viktor said, and coughed. “Anything you want to go over before we begin?”
“No, I think we covered everything already,” Yuuri said. “I’ll make the drinks, you’ll be taking pictures, try and act as naturally as possible. That about right?”
“That’s about the shape of it,” Viktor agreed.
“So should I strip now?”
Professional. “As soon as you’re comfortable. Your clothes can go on that table over there,” Viktor said, pointing. “There’s a sock over there as well, if you want it. I won’t look.”
“I’m good,” Yuuri said and put his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal miles of smooth, tan skin. “I grew up in a hot spring, I’m comfortable being naked around people.”
“Right,” Viktor said, and hustled over to where his camera waited before he could get lost in the way Yuuri’s hips curved out into his round, soft-looking stomach. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He fiddled with the camera, watching Yuuri out of the corner of his eye until Yuuri moved over to the counter and settled himself behind it. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Yuuri confirmed. Viktor looked up at him; he was smiling again. Viktor smiled back, helpless, and hoisted his camera. “What should I make first?”
“You decide,” Viktor said. “This is your show from here on out.” He lifted the camera to his eye and took the first shot, Yuuri perusing the drinks rack, covered from the hips down by the counter. He’d get closer in soon, but he’d found that taking a few shots from farther away helped make people comfortable. He zoomed in on Yuuri’s face and took another, catching his furrowed brow and big, dark eyes.
“Got it,” Yuuri said. He ducked into the minifridge and returned with the bowl of strawberries Viktor had selfishly placed inside. “Wouldn’t be us if I weren’t making you one of these, would it?” He winked again; Viktor caught it on camera. “You’re awfully far away,” Yuuri said, starting to sort them.
Viktor coughed again, a little caught out. “Just trying to ease you into it.” He took a few steps closer, zooming back out to take in Yuuri’s fingers, staining themselves red from the berries.
“You don’t have to baby me, Viktor,” Yuuri said, dropping the berries into the blender. “I knew what I was signing up for when I texted you. Don’t hold back.”
“Well, if you insist,” Viktor said, grinning, and came forward, walking around the counter entirely until he was behind it and to the side, camera still fixed to his face. Yuuri smirked at him and turned to the drinks rack, lining Viktor up with a perfect shot of him from behind. Viktor started snapping away, capturing his backside from as many angles as he could manage before Yuuri turned back to the counter, a bottle of Sprite in hand. Yuuri was absolutely gorgeous, the curves of his ass practically begging for a hand to slide over them, but it was a little easier to be professional from behind the camera. Through the lens, Viktor could focus on the way the light fell across him, the subtle play of the muscles and tendons below his skin. Without the camera, he’d likely already have been on his knees.
“Nudge your right thigh a little forward,” Viktor murmured, peering through the camera. Yuuri obeyed, his thigh moving to cover the bit of (soft, long, delicious-looking) cock Viktor could see from this angle, and Viktor took the picture. “Perfect, thank you.”
Viktor circled him throughout the making of the daiquiri and a mojito after that, occasionally verbally or physically adjusting him to make the angles work. Yuuri was the perfect model, moving where Viktor put him without a complaint and smiling, always smiling in that open, honest, beautiful way he had. When they finished, Viktor had several photos that were just the curve of Yuuri’s smile, the slight dimple in his cheek and the light reflecting off his eyes. “I think we’ve got it,” he said, taking one last shot of Yuuri at the counter, the two drinks in front of him. “You did wonderfully well.”
Yuuri blushed, looking down at the drinks. “Thanks. Kind of a dream come true, you know?” He slid the daiquiri across the counter to Viktor. “Shame to let these go to waste. Have a drink with me?”
Viktor set the camera on the counter and sat himself on one of the barstools, accepting the drink with a grin. He took a sip. “Mmm, delicious.”
“You and your daiquiris,” Yuuri said teasingly. He picked up the mojito and took a sip. “I swear, I never make them except when you’re in.”
“I’ve got to keep things interesting for you,” Viktor said. He’d asked for a strawberry daiquiri the first time he went into the bar because it was the first thing he could think of that screamed “I’m gay and I want you to break me in half.” Yuuri had given him an incredulous look, but the finished drink had been so delicious Viktor hadn’t been able to resist getting it every time. “Besides, I love strawberries.”
“I would hope so.” Yuuri took another drink, tipping his head back and sighing as he swallowed. Viktor watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, wondering what it might feel like under his lips.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Viktor asked, wrenching his eyes away from Yuuri’s throat and back up to his face. Be professional, Nikiforov.
Yuuri shook his head. “Left it open. I wasn’t sure what kind of headspace I’d be in after this, and I didn’t want to commit to anything.”
“And what sort of headspace are you in?”
Yuuri bit his lip, meeting Viktor’s gaze. “I feel good, Viktor. You made me feel really, really good.”
Viktor’s mouth went dry. He took a gulp of virgin daiquiri. “I’m glad. That’s all I wanted.” I could make you feel so good, Yuuri, you wouldn’t know what hit you, I could make you feel amazing.
“What about you?” Yuuri asked. “Any plans for the afternoon?”
Viktor shrugged. “Not especially. I had some half-formed thoughts of going to a park and taking some photographs of random stuff. I brought my personal camera. You know the flower garden a few blocks away?” Yuuri nodded. “I like to go there and take pictures sometimes. The peonies are my favorites.”
“That sounds lovely,” Yuuri said. He bit his lip again. “I have another idea for something you could do, though.”
“Oh?”
Yuuri hesitated, then downed his mojito like he was seeking courage, even though there was no alcohol in it. He took a deep breath, then walked around the counter to face Viktor full-on.
Viktor couldn’t help himself. He tried, he really did, but no power on earth could have stopped him from looking down Yuuri’s body now that it was presented to him. His eyes skimmed over Yuuri’s chest and stomach and stopped at his cock. It was fatter than it had been the last time he’d seen it, half-hard and growing. As he watched, Yuuri reached down and took it in hand. “You have your personal camera?” Yuuri asked. Viktor’s eyes snapped to his face and he nodded dumbly. “Get it.”
Viktor obeyed almost without thinking about it, rocketing off his barstool like it was on fire and making for his bag on the far table. By the time he had it in hand, Yuuri had settled himself amongst the barstools, leaning back with one elbow on the counter of the bar. “Is it on?” Yuuri asked.
Viktor pressed the power button on his camera blindly, unable to tear his eyes away from Yuuri’s naked body. “It’s on.”
“Good.” Yuuri gave him another one of those arresting, wolfish grins, then raised his hand to his mouth, licked his palm, and wrapped it around his cock. Viktor lifted the camera to his eye.
Through the lens he could see Yuuri’s head tip back, arm moving slowly as he stroked himself. Yuuri let out a low moan that Viktor could feel all the way to the tips of his toes. Viktor took picture after picture as Yuuri touched himself; his other hand came up to run down his neck and chest, tracing over his stomach and scraping across his thigh. “Viktor,” Yuuri gasped, “Viktor, Viktor.”
“Fuck,” Viktor breathed, finger moving so fast on his camera’s trigger that it was starting to cramp. He zoomed in on Yuuri’s cock. Through the lens he could see it clearly, shiny and wet at the tip, flushed red and rigid as Yuuri’s hand moved over it. Yuuri rolled his head forward and moaned again, and Viktor raised the camera, focusing on his chest where Yuuri was playing with one nipple with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock.
“Viktor,” Yuuri whined. “Viktor, are you watching? Can you see?”
“I’m watching,” Viktor said through a dry mouth. “I’m getting all of it, I promise.”
Yuuri groaned, loud and sharp. “I’m gonna come,” he panted. His free hand grabbed hold of one of the barstools, knuckles clenching white. “Viktor, I’m gonna come, will you take a picture?”
“I will,” Viktor breathed, “I will, I’ve got you, come for me, you’re so gorgeous, you’re so hot, Yuuri, come so I can watch.”
Yuuri cried out and came, hips stuttering as his cock jerked in his hand and erupted all over his chest. Viktor snapped picture after picture, capturing the spray of it, the way it glistened against his skin, the rosy blush in Yuuri’s cheeks as he gasped for air. Yuuri was whimpering as he caught his breath, little vocalizations that Viktor’s heart tried in vain to beat in time with. He rubbed his neck again, eyes fluttering open as Viktor lowered his camera. Their eyes locked.
Viktor turned and carefully placed his camera back on the table, and then he ran, darting across the studio as fast as his feet could move him, skidding to a halt in front of Yuuri. Yuuri grabbed his shirt and hauled him the last few steps and then they were kissing, Yuuri’s mouth opening under Viktor’s immediately, their tongues sliding together as Viktor did his best to consume Yuuri whole.
Yuuri’s mouth left his, sucking and biting his way along Viktor’s jaw and down his neck. Viktor clutched at him desperately. “Please, Yuuri,” he whispered, “please, please.”
“I’ve got you,” Yuuri said and dropped to his knees, fingers moving to Viktor’s fly. Viktor pulled his shirt up and Yuuri bit at the skin under his navel, lips and tongue soothing the sting as he yanked Viktor’s pants open and down around his thighs. Viktor put a hand to the back of Yuuri’s head; Yuuri picked up Viktor’s cock and slid his mouth around it with a relieved whine.
“Oh fuck,” Viktor gasped, his free hand catching his weight on the counter. “Oh fuck, Yuuri, that’s so good.” Yuuri’s hand came up to work the part of Viktor’s length that couldn’t fit in his mouth and Viktor groaned. “Your mouth feels so good, so warm and wet, Yuuri, Christ.” Yuuri moaned around his cock, his hand moving back to stroke across Viktor’s balls. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Viktor confessed, eyes fixed onto where he was disappearing into Yuuri’s mouth. “Ever since I first came into the bar I’ve wanted you, so many times I wanted to crawl under it and take you apart.”
Yuuri’s eyes flicked up to meet Viktor’s, his tongue caressing the head of Viktor’s cock. He gave one final strong suck and Viktor was gone, spilling into his mouth with a cry, fingers tensing in Yuuri’s hair as he came. Yuuri drank it all down, a thin line of come spilling out of his mouth as he suckled Viktor through his orgasm.
Viktor dropped to his knees and put his mouth to Yuuri’s again, licking the trickle of come from his chin and sweeping the taste of himself out of Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri flung his arms around Viktor, kissing him back with equal fervor, and they spent several long minutes learning each other’s mouths. Finally, Yuuri pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. “I’ve decided how I want to spend the rest of today,” he said.
Viktor reached up to touch his cheek. “How?”
“I want to get dressed, and then I want us to go to lunch together, a real date, my treat. I want us to talk, to start getting to know each other properly, when neither of us is working. Then I want to take you home and sit on your face for a good long while, and I want to fuck you until you scream, preferably more than once. And when my roommate comes home from work, I want to introduce you as my boyfriend.” Yuuri blinked at him, his deep brown eyes boring into Viktor’s. “How does that sound?”
Viktor kissed him again. Yuuri whimpered and grabbed at him as Viktor slipped his tongue into his mouth. One of Viktor’s hands drifted down to ghost over the sweet swell of Yuuri’s ass. “That sounds perfect,” Viktor said, releasing Yuuri’s mouth. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a day.”
Yuuri let out a long sigh of relief. “Is your personal camera film or digital?”
Viktor gave the firm flesh under his hand a gentle squeeze. “Film.”
“Call me when you develop it?” Yuuri smirked. “I’ve always wanted to blow someone in a darkroom.”
Viktor shivered. “It’s a date.”