Author's Note:

Hello! This is my first time writing smut! *buries face in shame* Please don't judge me too harshly!

This piece was originally posted on my archive of our own account (under jinxauthor). I wasn't going to post it here, because I happen to know that some friends are still subscribed to me, and I didn't really want them to see what I was writing these days... heh heh... Anyway, I've already blabbed about it to anyone who will listen, so it can't hurt to share it with the community!

I've tentatively titled the piece "Age of Consent" because I discovered that the legal age of sexual consent in Russia is 16. The age of consent in Kazakhstan is also 16. (Imagine that!) So the story will continue through Yurio's 16th birthday. The story bears an "underage" warning due to some... ah... under-aged masturbation...

Please enjoy!

Chapter 1: Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Their bodies moved against each other. Yuri moaned as they kissed, feeling Otabek's tongue invade his mouth, exploring the space before quickly withdrawing again. He pressed his lips against Yuri's throat, licking his soft skin, tasting him. Yuri was breathless. He panted with impatience as Otabek continued to trail kisses down his body. He paused briefly at Yuri's nipple, tugging on the small nub with his teeth until Yuri arched his back with a hiss and another loud moan. Then, with a satisfied smile on his face, he continued the path downward.

Yuri's heart raced as he tried to catch his breath for what was coming next. He clutched at the bedsheet, fingers and toes curling inward as he Otabek's warm breath stir the hair near the base of his erect cock. Another soft kiss fell against the side of his shaft, then he felt Otabek's mouth close around him. When he began to suck, Yuri cried out with pleasure, unable to hold his voice back. He had never felt anything as wonderful as this wet heat, and he wanted more of it. His hips moved against the Otabek's mouth as he begged to be allowed in deeper. Otabek obliged, patiently allowing Yuri to fuck his mouth with more urgent thrusts.

"O-Otabek!" Yuri screamed as he hit climax. He came in Otabek's mouth, but the older boy didn't complain. He smiled down at Yuri, wiping his mouth with one hand while caressing Yuri's face with the other.

"You're so beautiful, Yuri..." he said, His face was colored with lust as he reached down between Yuri's thighs...

Yuri Plisetsky awoke with a gasp. He was lying in his bed, his sheets in total disarray, but Otabek Altin was not there. Yuri was covered in sweat, his chest heaving from the effort it took to breathe. His face felt hot.

"What the hell...?" he asked himself in confusion. He shifted in place, about to pull himself up, when he felt an uncomfortable sticky sensation between his legs.

"Oh no..." he said aloud. He yanked the blanket and sheets aside, and jumped out of bed. His underwear felt wet and squishy.

"Gross..." he said with repugnance as he peeled off his pajama bottoms and underwear, surveying the damage that had been done. He used his pajama bottoms to wipe away the semen as best as he could, then he grabbed a dirty towel of the floor, wrapping it around his middle. He frowned at his underwear and the pajamas, wondering what he was going to do with them. He could cram them to the bottom of his laundry hamper, but what if Lilia found it while doing the laundry? Yuri would never survive the embarrassment. He quickly decided to toss both garments in the garbage, and bagged up the trash himself to take out later.

Sunlight was streaming around the edges of his curtains, so he knew that it was morning. He hoped that it was still too early for either Yakov or Lilia to be awake. He grabbed his cell phone to check the time and felt his heart skip a beat. He had a text from Otabek.

Hey.

It was only one word, but Yuri stared at it for several long minutes. It looked as if Otabek had sent him the message the previous night, but Yuri hadn't seen it until just now. There were no other messages.

Yuri placed his phone deliberately face-down onto his dresser. He couldn't face talking with Otabek just now. Not after that incredibly awkward dream. Instead, he poked his head into the hallway, checking to see that the coast was clear, then he waddled uncomfortably down the hall as quickly and quietly as he could, and slipped into the bathroom.

After a very long, very cold shower, Yuri wandered back to his room. He could hear voices and movement downstairs, the sounds of Yakov and his ex-wife making breakfast for him. He smiled in spite of himself, then blushed when he thought of what Yakov would say if he knew Yuri was having wet dreams about his fellow competitors.

"You're going to end up just like Vitya!" he would say, or something to that effect.

Yuri scoffed at the thought. It was only one dream. He had probably just eaten something weird the night before, and it disagreed with him. Besides, Otabek was his friend...

Feeling conflicted, he walked into his room, closed the door, and allowed his towel to fall to the floor. As he dressed for practice, his eyes kept glancing toward the phone on his dresser.

Finally, after brushing his teeth, pulling his hair back, and retying his shoelaces three times, he decided it couldn't be put off any longer. He picked up his phone and texted Otabek.

Hey.

He tossed the phone back onto his bed and only then wondered if he should change his sheets. But there didn't seem to be any need. The mess seemed to have been confined to his underwear. Yuri stuck his tongue out in disgust at the memory. It wasn't the first sex dream he had ever had, but it had certainly been the most vivid. He didn't usually wake up with cum all over his legs.

His phone meowed. It was the alert he set for text messages. It was Otabek's response.

I saw your performance at nationals.

Yuri smiled. He was talking about the Russian Nationals for the European Championship. Yuri had come out on top, scoring even higher than Victor Nikiforov. After winning gold at the Grand Prix, he was already the favorite for the World Championships. Otabek must have caught his performance online.

Yeah, and..? he fired back, curious about what the other skater would say.

His answer set Yuri's heart pounding.

You were beautiful.

Otabek was nothing if not unfailingly direct, especially when it came to praise. At any other time, it might have made Yuri smile. But his text reminded Yuri of that incredibly awkward dream. It wasn't fair.

His hands were shaking as he typed his retort.

Don't call me beautiful! Say I was cool or awesome or amazing!

Otabek wasted no time with his response.

You were cool and awesome and amazing.

Yuri smirked. Otabek could be a sarcastic ass sometimes. He sat on the edge of his bed, fidgeting with his phone and wondering what to say next. Before he could come to a decision, his phone buzzed in his hand with another incoming message.

Don't let VN beat you at Euro Championship.

Yuri scowled. Let Victor beat him? Hadn't he just defeated him at the national level? Sure, it was a narrow victory, and Victor's score still qualified him to compete at the European Championship, but that didn't mean anything to Yuri.

Don't worry about me, he typed, I'll make that old man regret coming out of retirement.

Good, came Otabek's response a moment later.

Yuri rolled his eyes at the short response, and quickly typed a question.

Where are you?

Practice.

Already? Yuri asked, realizing suddenly that he didn't know what time it was in Kazakhstan. He was busily searching world times from his phone when Otabek's answer came in.

I need all the practice I can get if I'm going to win the next time I see you.

This was too much. Yuri stared at the words the next time I see you and could feel his face reddening with embarrassment. What was wrong with him?

He sent Otabek a message telling him he had to get to practice himself, then he tossed his phone into his gym bag to avoid temptation. But he didn't leave right away. He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, knowing full well that he was going to be late for practice. He didn't care. He kept thinking about Otabek, and how he had called Yuri beautiful, and how they would be seeing each other again at competition. It was hard to believe he had seen Otabek only a few short weeks ago at the Grand Prix in Barcelona. And ever since returning to their home countries, they had stayed in touch, texting each other nearly every day, swapping photos on Instagram and Snap Chat. Otabek was quickly becoming Yuri's closest friend.

He felt his chest tighten at the thought of friendship with Otabek, and knew that something was very wrong with him. He rolled onto his side and curled his knees to his chest, as if he could curl around and suffocate this feeling that was starting to form within him. He buried his face in the mattress and gave an irritated groan.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"