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Eloping had been completely, utterly, unthinkably foolish. He had a company to inherent, a family fortune he was supposed to be managing as soon as he was done with school and settled into his new position, and a group of friends who would no doubt be blowing up his cel phone as soon as they noticed that his “date” was turning out to be suspiciously long.
“Having second thoughts?”
Dimitri glanced at the man sitting across from him in the Waffle House booth and wiped a bit of jelly from his mouth, smiling fondly. Somehow his lover’s makeup was impeccable even when they'd been on the road for five hours and Yuri had just consumed an entire All-Star Special.
“No,” Dimitri said, quite honestly. “There's nothing I want more than this.”
“Aww, you sweet-talker,” Yuri replied. “And the worst part about it? Is I know that you’re totally sincere.”
He’d never been anything but sincere with Yuri, from the cery moment that they met at one of Dimitri’s father’s parties and Yuri led him to the balcony and kissed him and told him he was handsome and then stole his wallet. Dimitri had forgiven Yuri as soon as he noticed, and asked for it back, thank you, and then Yuri had burst out laughing and said he’d never seen such an innocent face on such a ridiculously large man.
(Felix and Ingrid both thought he was insane for asking Yuri out after that, and Sylvain had also thought he was insane but insane in the way that was understandable, because Yuri was very pretty.)
One thing led to another and now they were taking a road trip to the town were Yuri was born, to get married along a river that he used to play in when he was small. It had been Yuri’s idea and he’d laughed at himself as soon as he suggested it, but when Dimitri enthusiastically agreed he turned pink up to his ears.
“I’m always sincere,” Dimitri confirmed, and squeezed Yuri’s hand on the sticky tabletop.
If a Waffle House was the least romantic place in the world, the motel nearest to the Waffle House had to be a close second. Even knowing this, Dimitri’s heart pounded against his ribcage as a bored-looking woman checked them in. He couldn’t ask for a room with one bed for him and his husband, not quite yet, but soon he’d be able to and just the thought of it made him forget how to speak.
Ever the smooth-talker, Yuri easily took over. “Thanks,” he said, taking the keycard and sliding the woman at the desk a twenty. “And if someone comes looking for us, try to forget that we're here, yeah?”
She yawned. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Yuri’s hand—soft, so soft—slid into Dimitri's naturally as they walked to their room, and Dimitri laced their fingers together. Looking at Yuri’s face suddenly seemed altogether too much so instead he stared at the hideous carpet, trying to make sense of the seemingly random pattern. It wasn’t much of a walk, of course (no need for a particularly big motel in the middle of nowhere) and far from enough to gather his thoughts. What was he so nervous about?
“What are you so nervous about?” Yuri asked, like he was a mind reader. The sound of the door unlocking seemed loud as a drum.
“I— I mean, it’s like it’s our wedding night, right?”
Yuri chuckled. “Hardly. We have another day of driving before we get there. Too eager to wait that long to marry me, hmm?”
A part of Dimitri knew it was a joke but... it wasn’t wrong. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I don’t want to wait. Maybe I can’t, and we’ll have to do it right now, right here.”
“Huh, even more eager than I expected. Well, we’ll certainly be doing something right here and now.”
At one point the innuendo would have passed right over Dimitri’s head, but at this point in their relationship it had become impossible to miss. “I hope we will,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuri’s head.
It felt almost like the first time when he led Yuri to the bed. Almost, only the glint in his lover’s eyes was too familiar and Dimitri felt far more prepared to pleasure him through the night.
Yuri, the loveliest man in the world, laid out on the motel room sheets with his hair fanned out over the pillow. His top was already halfway off. He must started unbuttoning it on his way in, so eager to be taken by Dimitri that he couldn’t help but make it as easy as possible.
Dimitri kissed him, soft and chaste, then twice, three times, and again and again until he lost track. He trailed his hands down Yuri’s chest and took a moment to take his shirt off the rest of the way, smiling at the Yuri pretended that he wasn’t ticklish and holding back giggles.
Soon he’d have this every day of his life: he’d kiss Yuri until they fell asleep and wake up to their bodies tangled together. They had that already, some nights, but they were always at risk of the judgmental eyes of Dimitri’s family. Once they were married nobody could object, because dating a pretty pickpocket who only had a family name because he was adopted was slightly scandalous but nobody would dare tell Dimitri not to be faithful to his husband.
“Hey,” said Yuri, “What are you thinking about, when you could be kissing me properly?”
And with that Yuri pulled Dimitri down none too gently on top of him so that he could kiss him long and deep. He was rock-hard already and Yuri definitely knew it, though he didn’t say anything. A part of Dimitri—a large part—wanted to rub against his lover and chase his own pleasure, to rut against him like a wild animal and seek a release that was fast and hard. And Yuri wouldn’t have minded that, certainly, but he deserved more. He ought to be held all night and loved with equal gentleness and passion.
Finally Dimitri pulled away from him just enough to move down, to suck at his neck, his chest, his nipples. Yuri had scars on his body, not as many as Dimitri but more than most people would expect from such a pretty face and a delicate figure. (This one is from a burn one of the first times he tried to cook on the stove by himself when he was too young for it; that one is from the time someone stabbed him because they didn’t want to pay for the services he was selling, also far too young.)
“It hasn’t faded,” Dimitri murmured, tracing the stab scar. It was close to his heart, not close enough to have killed him but the aim of the perpetrator was clear.
“Of course it hasn’t. I got it years before I met you. Why would it fade now?”
Dimitri shrugged. He wasn’t going to heal all of Yuri’s old scars just by loving him, but he would try anyway. “Just admiring it, I guess.”
“Leave it to you to reveal your scar fetish right before our wedding night, Little Lion.”
“It’s not a fetish!” Dimitri said, and kissed it, which may have done little to prove his point. “I just love every inch of you.”
“Mmm. Ridiculous.”
“Am I?” He moved lower still, finding one of Yuri’s nipples and nipping at it. “Then it’s ridiculous that I want to make love to you all night long, too?”
“Ah—” Yuri’s back arched as he shivered at the touch. “Everything you do is ridiculous, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. You can make love to me all night if you want, so long as you get started with it already.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Dimitri flipped Yuri over onto his stomach easily, the smaller man’s body easy for him to move and manipulate. Teasing, Yuri pulled at the waist of his thin leggings just slightly, just enough for Dimitri to get a peak at the roundness of his ass. He’d said he wanted Dimitri to get started, though, so Dimitri took the cue and pushed Yuri’s hands away, cupping his ass with his own hands.
“You have more of these packed, right?” he asked.
“Sure I do, wh—”
His question was promptly answered when Dimitri tore at the leggings, the fabric easily ripped by his strong hands. Yuri made a sound of surprise, but Dimitri kissed him again, allowing him no time for any other response.
With his legs spread as wide as they were, it was easy to access Yuri’s ass. Dimitri retrieved their nearby bottle of lube and poured it into his fingers, tracing the hole.
“So pretty,” he said, remembering what Yuri liked to hear in bed. Once these words felt so dirty on his lips, but now they were so simple, so easy. Dimitri could, he supposed, become anyone that Yuri wanted. “So eager for me, showing me your tight hole. Should I give you my cock right now, or just my fingers?”
“Anything— anything!” Yuri managed to sputter between shallow breaths.
Much as he might like to tease, there was no reason to deny Yuri now. Not when they had a whole night in front of them, a whole trip, and then a whole lifetime. He wouldn’t last long this time, Dimitri suspected.
“You used to brag about how long you could last,” Dimitri said, pushing two fingers into Yuri all at once. His lover groaned at the contact and pushed himself back onto them. “What changed?”
“You know the answer to that,” Yuri replied, panting. His cock appeared to be heavy between his legs, but it was still mostly covered by his leggings. The thought of freeing it to stroke him to completion seemed appealing, but first things first.
“Tell me,” Dimitri hummed, bending his fingers inside of Yuri to press against his prostate. “I’d like to hear it. Please?”
“Stupid... I relax when I’m with you. Maybe too much. And besides, you’re so fucking big there’s only so much I can do to stop myself.”
Of course Dimitri knew. But he enjoyed hearing it from Yuri’s mouth, hearing things that Yuri hid deep within himself and took years to say out loud. And he enjoyed being called big like this, liked to know that his size could be something to be admired rather than feared.
Satisfied, Dimitri freed his cock from his jeans. The contrast between it and Yuri’s body was indeed impressive. He wasn’t that large, his cock was proportionate enough to his body, but... well, Dimitri recalled the first time he realized that it might be challenging to maneuver it in bed, let alone inside of someone’s ass.
But Yuri was always up to the challenge, and though it might have seemed like it wouldn’t fit, Dimitri had confidence in him. He lined his cock up with Yuri’s hole, now almost dripping with lube, and pushed inside nearly as roughly as he had with his fingers.
When Yuri screamed some sensible part of Dimitri worried about waking up the other motel guests, but that voice was easy to quiet when he was enveloped by Yuri’s tight hole, able to take him in and allow him to sheathe himself completely, but only just. For all his comments about Yuri not being able to last long, Dimitri knew that he would be the same way, and as he pulled back nice and slow, taking care to drag the head of his cock over Yuri’s sweetest spot, he felt halfway to orgasm already.
Their conversation forgotten, the air instead filled with moans and gasps as Dimitri fucked into the sweet warmth that enveloped his manhood. Thank the goddess that Yuri liked it like this, hard and fast; when Dimitri was inside him he could think of little else beyond chasing his own pleasure.
Soon enough Yuri twitched and tightened, screaming Dimitri’s name as he came. Dimitri followed soon after, the sound of Yuri’s voice providing the final stimulation that pushed him over the edge completely. For a moment all he could think of, all he could feel was Yuri, the pleasure that stemmed from the place their bodies met spreading from head to toe.
Completely spent after that, all Dimitri could do was flop onto the bed. The ugly comforter was now decorated with lube and cum but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that, not yet. Not when Yuri was beside him, his hair stuck to his face with sweat and his eyeshadow smeared across his face. With an exhausted smile, Dimitri rubbed away a smudge of purple glitter.
Yuri rewarded him with a weak laugh. “Little Lion,” he said, slightly hoarse. “Gentle as always after such a rough fuck.”
“You deserve it,” Dimitri replied. “Forever.”
“Yeah. Forever.”