“There was a powerful urgency in him that roused me to response despite his awkwardness. Not wanting to lecture nor yet to highlight my own experience, I let him do what he would, only offering an occasional suggestion, such as that he might carry his weight on his elbows and not my chest. As yet too hungry and too clumsy for tenderness, still he made love with a sort of unflagging joy that made me think that male virginity might be a highly underrated commodity.”
(Male virginity is highly underrated. He improved a lot Claire)
@fudayk said: “victor feeding yuri katsudon after his win? >///w///< !!!!”
Victor grinned, bright and happy, nearly glowing with Yuuri’s win, and waved the cutlet in front of Yuuri’s face.
Yuuri was just this side of too embarrassed to smile in return.
“It’s your victory,” Victor pointed out, not for the first time. He touched the meat to Yuuri’s lips, the smell bringing his attention to just how empty his stomach was. “Eat up!”
Yuuri glanced sideways at his coach, wondering how much Victor had had to drink before they ended up in this establishment — the flush was rather telling, even if Yuuri had somehow missed the way he was acting — and huffed, “I can feed myself, you know.”
He was met with a pair of puppy eyes that would have even put Vicchan’s to shame.
It wasn’t every day that your idol (who was still most definitely your idol, even though he was strict and silly and blunt and a hundred other things that should have been faults, but weren’t) offered to feed you with his own two hands.
It was a brief, intense struggle between Yuuri’s pride and the obvious choice, and Yuuri’s pride hit the deck to the sound of Victor cajoling, “Please, Yuuri?”
Yuuri shut his eyes and opened his mouth, burning in his skin and wondering again just how drunk Victor was.
He plucked the cutlet from Victor’s chopsticks with his teeth, tasting the hot, savoury juices hit his tongue like holy water, and he abandoned any pretense of delicacy. He snapped down on the pork, humming his approval almost involuntarily, pride forgotten.
Almost, it was almost as good as his mother’s, breaded nearly to perfection and fried just right. It gave way under his teeth, substantial and comforting, not too chewy but not too tender either.
“Delicious…” he moaned appreciatively, mouth watering even after he swallowed, and he pulled himself out of the near meditation state the excellent katsudon had put him into.
The first thing he saw was Victor staring at him, chopsticks still held aloft and eyes wide.
The second thing he saw was the almost-whole katsudon still resting on the table.
He looked back at Victor, suddenly struck by just how hungry the competition had left him.
Victor, still holding his chopsticks captive, continued to stare.
Yuuri stared back at the utensils pointedly, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually ask for them and feeling a bit like a dog who’d been told to ‘stay’ while his owner balanced a biscuit on his nose.
When Victor seemed disinclined to share, Yuuri wondered if he was too polite to snatch them out of Victor’s hands. He licked his lips, tasting the traces of tonkatsu left on them, and that, oddly, was what snapped Victor out of his daze.
His mentor handed over the chopsticks, looking away and revealing that his pink alcohol flush had darkened to rosy, and flagged down a waitress.
“Sake, please,” Victor requested, oddly strained, and Yuuri would have worried, but he was too busy enjoying his treat to dwell.
Word to the wise. If you’re about to watch something, like an episode of your favorite show, and you KNOW you will most likely have some kind of physical outburst of happiness, (i.e. flailing of arms, rolling on the ground, yelling or crying like the dramatic overjoyed geek you are), I recommend NOT eating in that moment.
I almost died looking at Yuri and Victor’s gorgeous faces by choking on a sandwich….