Luckiest Man on Earth

It was laundry day. Victor loved laundry day. Sometimes he wore an extra shirt or spilled something on his jeans on purpose, just to speed it along. It probably wasn't fair, considering Yuuri was the one who actually did the chore, but Victor couldn't help himself. No matter how long he and Yuuri were together, he always saw something new and exciting on laundry day, and he'd made sure they had the whole morning open because he knew what would inevitably ensue.

The coffee finished percolating and Victor poured himself a cup, sipping it black then setting about doctoring a second cup with sugar and milk for Yuuri. As if on cue, the bedroom door opened. Victor held his breath. Yuuri stepped out wearing a pair of the snug black boxer briefs he favored and Victor's favorite knit sweater. It was several sizes too big on him, exposing his collar bones and one slim shoulder. The sleeves were far too long, one hanging down past his finger tips and the other pushed up over his forearm. Yuuri yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, unconsciously stretching his lithe body for Victor's perusal.

"What time is it, Vitya?" he asked in a sleep roughed voice.

Despite having prepared himself for it, despite having seen every inch of Yuuri's body in every variation of naked and clothed imaginable, despite the fact that he was used to being greeted by sights like that one every laundry day for the last several years, Victor still stared, utterly in awe of the man standing barefoot and half awake in the kitchen.

How the hell did I get so lucky? he wondered.

"Victor?" Yuuri picked up his coffee cup and looked curiously at his husband.

"Ah, a little after nine," Victor finally managed to say when he felt he could form coherent words.

"We don't have anything going on till noon, right?"

"Mmhm," Victor agreed absently. He drew Yuuri closer and put down his coffee cup so he could run his hands over Yuuri's body, lingering on his hip bones and rubbing small circles. He leaned in and began kissing up Yuuri's neck.

"I should get some laundry done today. This was the only clean shirt I could find." Yuuri plucked at the loose hem of the shirt he was wearing.

"A shame," Victor murmured, not sounding at all remorseful. He continued the kisses up Yuuri's jaw and began to nibble on his ear.

"My, someone is rather ardent today. Anyone would think you hadn't just gotten some relief eight hours ago."

"Yes, but that was a whole eight hours, and you look positively edible in this." He slid his hand up the back of the pull over, running his blunt nails over the skin of Yuuri's back. His other hand dipped down beneath the snug fabric of Yuuri's pants.

"I don't suppose," Yuuri whispered breathlessly, setting down his coffee and giving into the temptation of his husband's hands, "that you remembered to stock the kitchen?"

"Stock the kitchen?" Victor paused his efforts to remove both their pants to look questioningly at Yuuri.

"For... this?" Yuuri lifted both brows suggestively.

"Oh!" A wicked gleam came to Victor's eyes. He finished divesting them of underwear, hitched Yuuri's legs around his waist, and set him up on the counter – which happened to be the perfect height for Victor's hips. He opened the cupboard just above them and pulled a small, sleek bottle from behind the cinnamon. "I most certainly did."

Yuuri moaned in answer as Victor drizzled the cool liquid over them both and began kissing him in earnest. Victor lifted Yuuri's leg to plant his foot on the counter while Yuuri braced his hand on the cabinet above him. "Don't tease me, Victor," he pleaded. "I'm ready."

"Now who's the eager one?" Victor chuckled, rubbing the head of his cock tormentingly close to where Yuuri wanted it most. In response, Yuuri tightened his leg around Victor's waist, driving his cock an inch inside and making them both gasp. "Yuuri!" Victor gripped Yuuri's throbbing erection tightly as if in rebuke, but began to stroke it as he slowly thrust deeper.

In moments, they were both rocking their hips together, gasping for air and shuddering with every fresh wave of pleasure. Victor picked up the pace, slamming into Yuuri hard and fast, then slowed down until he was drawing out every thrust to excruciating intensity. Yuuri's nails dug into his back as he spurred him on, leaving furrows Victor would be able to see for days.

"I can't wait any more," Yuuri gasped, his head thrown back, mouth open and chest heaving. Sweat glistened on their skin. "Please," he begged. Any restraint Victor had left evaporated like smoke. He canted his hips until he was hitting the same spot over and over again, the one that never failed to send Yuuri careening into release. Just as Yuuri began trembling beneath him, Victor's own orgasm crashed into him. He kept thrusting through it, forcing pleasure to sing along their veins more and more until they couldn't take any more.

Victor buried his face against Yuuri's shoulder. He held his husband tight and was again struck by just how fucking lucky he was. "Luckiest man alive," he murmured.

"What was that, love?" Yuuri asked, drawing Victor back so he could see his face.

"Me," Victor clarified. "I'm the luckiest man alive." Yuuri smiled softly at him, then brushed Victor's damp hair from his eyes.

"You'll have to fight me for that position," he admonished. "Unless you're willing to share."

Bonus Scene:

If you can't read the label, don't try to wash your hair with it

"Oy, Victor," Yurio called, loud enough to be heard over the shower and through the bathroom door.

"Da?"

"I think whatever this Japanese shampoo is, it's gone bad or something. It won't lather and my head feels all greasy."

"Japanese shampoo?" Yuuri's brows drew together in confusion. "The only shampoo in there is the kind you brought back from Russia."

"Ah, what's it look like?" Victor called through the door, trying to ignore the nagging suspicion he had.

"Tall bottle, kind of clearish red, smells like strawberry. Japanese writing on it. Don't recognize the characters."

Both Victor and Yuuri's eyes widened. "Oh, my-"

"Yurio," Victor cleared his throat when his voice pitched an octave too high. "That's not shampoo."

"Not shampoo? Then what else could it-" There was a pause. "Svyatoy yebut!" A garbled cry of horror echoed from inside the bathroom, followed by furious splashing. "You fucking perverts! Why do you have lube in your bath tub?"

Victor chuckled. "Why do you think?"

For a moment only the sound of the shower was heard, then all three of the men in the living room could practically see the smirk in Yurio's voice.

"Beka," he called throatily. "Get in here."

Otabek looked between Victor and Yuuri. It was one thing to stay with your boyfriend's quasi parents when you came to town for a visit. It was another thing to have sex in their shower with them sitting a few feet away and knowing about it. Yuuri had blushed to the roots of his hair and Victor hadn't moved. What the hell. It wasn't as if they weren't aware that he and Yura had a healthy, active sex life. He rose, gave the two of them a small salute, and went into the bathroom.

"We're going out, see you in a few hours," came the hurried call from the living room. Yurio cackled and beckoned Otabek into the shower.