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Yuuri wakes up early one Sunday morning to the sound of murmured endearments and hissed curses next to him. He stretches languidly and turns toward the commotion, arousal already stirring in his gut; he knows what to expect.
Sure enough, he opens his eyes to the sight of Yuri, pinned to the bed on his front by the weight of Viktor's body. Yuri has his forehead pressed to the mattress, face screwed up tight and hair a mess. His hips are held up by one of Viktor's arms, while the other is busy jerking Yuri off, slow and merciless.
"Fuck you," Yuri is gasping out, broken-voiced. "Fuck—oh, fuck you so much."
"How rude," Viktor laughs. Neither of them have noticed Yuuri yet. "And when I'm being so nice to you, too."
"You're being an asshole," Yuri spits.
Viktor is soft with the people he loves. Soft, sweet, and sappy as hell. He's the kind of lover who kisses your hands just because he feels like it, who calls you up just to hear the sound of your voice, who brings you breakfast in bed even though he can't really cook.
The way he is with Yuuri—the way he's been since he and Yuuri started dating way, way back when—is just an extension of that. Viktor loves making Yuuri happy, and absolutely adores taking orders from him. He goes pliant and warm and, of course, always sweet, even when he's being a brat.
On the contrary, when Viktor and Yuri get into it, he's...different. Good different. The best kind of different. Yuuri's pretty sure that all three of them are very, very into it.
Viktor treats Yuri the way one would treat a spoiled but particularly beloved cat—wry, but fond. Indulgent. It makes Yuri keep trying to wind him up, and it means he only succeeds in winding himself up instead. Viktor spends the majority of the time exactly as he is now: with a smug half-smirk on his face, calm and effortlessly in control.
It makes Yuuri want to do terrible, terrible things to them both.
"Hello," he says mildly, and Yuri's gaze flickers toward him before skittering away, embarrassed.
Viktor smiles at him, open. "Yuuri!" he sings. "Nice morning, hm?"
"Very nice, it looks like." Yuuri grins. "Mind if I join?"
"Oh no," Yuri groans. "I know that fucking look."
"So rude," Viktor says, taking his hand off Yuri's cock and—ignoring his fervent insults—yanking him up and back onto Viktor's lap.
Yuri flails before all his limbs go loose with surprise. "Oh," he says, dazed. His long hair falls across his face, and his mouth is open, making him look beautifully overwhelmed. They'd figured out early on that Yuri was into being manhandled a little, but he still seems surprised every time at just how into it he is. Yuuri likes it, the way it gets Yuri off-balance.
Viktor hums, wrapping his arms around Yuri's middle and resting his chin on his shoulder. He looks over at Yuuri with his damn puppy-dog eyes and says, "Please do join in."
Yuuri sits up and stretches again (enjoying the not-so-subtle appreciative looks both Yuri and Viktor throw him) before knee-walking over to their end of the mattress. "How long have you been teasing him?" he asks, because Yuri is red and sweating, desperation practically leaking through his pores.
"Hmm, not long," Viktor says, at which Yuri's face goes tight and furious.
"Not long?" he fumes. "It's been forever!"
Viktor rolls his eyes. "It's been barely ten minutes, Yuri, calm down."
"Wow," Yuuri says, brushing the back of his hand against Yuri's dick and huffing out a laugh when Yuri chokes out a moan, hips jerking forward. "I knew you needed to work on your stamina, but I didn't know it was this bad."
There's a pause, and then Yuri says, "That was terrible," in a low, unimpressed voice.
"Awful," Viktor agrees cheerfully. "I liked it."
"I'm glad someone appreciates me," Yuuri sighs mournfully, pulling his hand away from Yuri, who makes a quiet noise of despair. "Maybe I should take care of Viktor first, hm?"
"I will literally—" Yuri begins loudly, before Viktor kisses the side of his neck, looking up at Yuuri with hooded eyes. Yuri's sentence dies before it's truly had the chance to start, and he tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Fuck."
Yuuri skims his palms along the smooth insides of Yuri's thighs before spreading them apart. "You were saying?"
"Fuck," Yuri says, squeezing his eyes shut. "I hate you both."
Viktor pouts, but his eyes are sharp with mischief. "So mean to us, Yurochka," he says. His lips are still against Yuri's neck, and it must tickle, because Yuri shudders, foot kicking out on reflex.
Yuuri grabs his ankle and holds it still, sweeps his thumb along the bone. Yuri trembles harder.
"I hate you so much," he says, but it's breathless and a tinged with a whine, the way he gets when he's right there on the edge.
"You love us," Viktor says smugly, and Yuri's brow furrows like he's attempting irritation, like there's any point at all in pretending, when the way he's squirming in Viktor's lap gives him away. "We know you do."
"And we love you too," Yuuri adds, "which is why we're going to be nice to you, even though you've been so mean to us." He starts stroking Yuri's cock again, quick and firm, and Yuri's eyes fly open to stare at him almost accusingly.
"You—" he chokes out, and comes all over his stomach and Yuuri's hand before he can get to whatever expletive he had planned.
Viktor grabs at Yuri's hips and grinds against his ass, pressing his forehead to his back. He lasts barely another minute before coming. He's gotten even better at controlling himself; Yuuri had no idea he was that close.
"Get over here," Yuri says impatiently, still breathing hard but recovered enough to be making grabbing motions in Yuuri's direction.
"Me?" Yuuri asks teasingly, but his heart isn't in it. He shuffles closer to within Yuri's reach.
"Shut up." Yuri pulls him in by the shoulders for a long kiss. He pulls too hard—or maybe exactly as hard as he intended, knowing Yuri—and they fall into Viktor, who lets out a tiny oof of surprise as they tip backward onto the bed.
"You two are so heavy," Viktor complains, blowing away a strand of Yuri's hair that landed in his face.
"Shh," Yuuri says in a low voice, and Viktor goes instantly quiet. "Just let me..."
He rocks his hips forward between Yuri's thighs, and Yuri moans and twitches against him, oversensitive. "Okay?" Yuuri asks carefully. He's pretty sure Yuri's getting hard again but...
"Y-yeah," Yuri stutters out, limbs loose and open where he lays sprawled out on top of Viktor. Viktor's eyes are dark and knowing when he trades a glance with Yuuri, and he reaches down to pull Yuri's knees up to his chest.
"I'll be quick," Yuuri promises, and starts up a steady rhythm grinding against Yuri. His breath whooshes out of him on a sigh, pleasure rolling through him.
"Ah," Yuri cries out, his hands flying to Yuuri's hips, his fingers digging into the soft skin. "Oh, oh god—"
Yuuri curls forward to bite at Yuri's collarbone, his shoulder, his chest. He revels in the high, shocked noises tumbling out of Yuri's mouth, the way he's shaking and tensing up, like he's seconds away from—
Yuri throws his head back against Viktor's shoulder. "Shit, I'm gonna—" he pants out, and comes again. Viktor pulls his hands back and Yuri's legs lock themselves around Yuuri's waist, pulling him closer.
"Wow," Yuuri says, awed, even as he skirts the edge himself. "Look at you."
"Stop looking," Yuri hisses, the corners of his eyes beginning to get a little wet, "and just come."
Yuuri drops his head and listens.
He collapses on top of Yuri afterward. Sometimes, especially when they're all sleepy, they can convince Yuri to cuddle. Now, apparently, is not one of those times, because Yuri endures the close proximity for less than a minute before squirming out from between them, and Yuuri finds himself curled against Viktor's chest instead.
"Bathroom," Yuri announces, before sliding off the bed and across the hallway.
"Abandoned so soon," Viktor says tragically, and Yuuri snorts.
"What brought this on?" Yuuri asks. "It's only—" he checks the clock on the wall "—nine in the morning. Normally you let him sleep in later."
"Actually," Viktor says, "would you believe that he woke me up?" His lips curl into a smirk. "I think maybe he had some nice dreams, yeah?"
"Hmm." Yuuri smiles sleepily and presses his face into Viktor's neck, letting Viktor wrap all his limbs around him like the octopus he is. "Well, it was nice. Let's do it again soon, okay?"
"Of course," Viktor says, and Yuuri feels lips press against his hair as he falls back into sleep.