Work Text:
Viktor loved his apartment. He loved it online when looking for places to rent. He'd loved it even more when it said "pet friendly." What he didn't love, though, was the little pittering of feet outside his room in the middle of the night.
It couldn't have been Makkachin, Viktor thought, since his companion never left his bed after Viktor had crawled into it. Makkachin, about two weeks after moving in, perked up immediately after hearing an almost non-existent tap, tap, tap across Viktor's new (to him) hard wood flooring. Viktor didn't ponder anything about it, too caught up in his own career, and exhausted from practice, to boot.
It was months though, nearly a year, before Viktor ever had the chance to act upon it.
Vikor's apartment was unique to the building. It was more modern, but not exceedingly so for the complex. Two bedrooms, one of which he used for storage. Open plan flooring, a fire place, and a huge hall closet (which, of course, Viktor filled to the brim with beach clothes, fluffy towels, and bathrobes he promptly forgot about after placing them into said closet). Never mind the absolutely gorgeous view of St. Petersburg he shared with the building's hundred or so patrons.
Upon telling his landlord about the little pattering Viktor had almost gone used to hearing, his landlord assured him that there had been a ventilation issue over the past couple of weeks. That there was nothing to fret over. Viktor complied, but when the noises continued going, and the so-called broken vents were undoubtedly fixed, he confided in his coach.
"I've lived in that apartment for over a year, you know?" He told Yakov, while slowly tying his skates.
"Maybe you've got rats," Yuri snickered, already stretching.
"Yuck! Though that would explain the noises," Viktor chewed his lip, running a hand through subtly thinning hair.
"Viktor's got spiders," Mila spoke suddenly from behind Viktor, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.
"I sure hope not. I'm calling you if I find any." Viktor smiled softly as he answered.
Yakov's frown seemed etched permanently into his face, but after years of knowing him, Viktor knew that his coach was a tad worried over Viktor's situation.
"Quit stalling, its time for the ice."
Viktor returned home late that night, at around two in the morning. He was most definitely less sober than when he'd left the rink that evening, but Viktor wasn't one to turn down being a drinking buddy. So what if Georgi invested too much time into his failing relationship? Viktor never turned down a tall, cold glass of kvass, and a manly serving of vereniki. The night may have started with kvass, but ended with vodka.
Viktor shoved his house key into the lock unceremoniously, humming quietly. Stepping into his apartment, Viktor promptly kicked off his snow filled shoes, and fell right on the floor. He didn't really mind though, the wooden flooring felt nice on his cheek. As he looked up, Viktor was sure his fall had been more impactful. Given, his ears were ringing, but Viktor associated that more with the imported tequila in his system.
Viktor saw a small person no more than thirty centimeters from his nose. Saying small, he meant incredibly tiny. The man (he was assuming) couldn't have been more than fifteen centimeters tall. The little guy was incredibly filthy, skin darkened, and encrusted with various filth. With legs, and a waist that were a little thick compared to his body, the small man looked like he was trying not to combust from nerves. He was frozen, right there in front of Viktor, carrying what seemed to be a cube of sugar. He only had on a frankly disgusting, darkened object around his relatively chubby waist that Viktor supposed resembled pants.
Viktor nearly laughed, but refrained when he glanced at the terrified expression the tiny man was giving him.
"Привет! Я Виктор Никифоров, как тебя зовут?" Viktor spoke relatively slowly, sticking his finger out in some sort of greeting. The little guy gave him a terrified half glance, hugging his sugar cube closer to his chest. This caused Viktor to sit up in confusion, was he that scary? "Ты говоришь по-русски? Английски? Do you have a name?"
He nodded from his spot on the floor, sugar cube nearly crumbling in his grip.
"My name? My name is Yuuri," Yuuri spoke slowly, Viktor found his high voice (probably due to size) adorable.
"Yuuri, добро пожаловать, welcome."
"Wait, but I lived here before you, shouldn't it be the other way around?" Yuuri dropped the sugar cube, focus on Viktor.
"You may be right, how about I clean you up?" Viktor smiled, holding out his palm. Yuuri hesitantly climbed into it, legs shaky as soon as Viktor began to stand up. Viktor took Yuuri to his sink in his bathroom, and began running the warm water from the tap. "Where did you stay?" Viktor asked as soon as the warm water began pooling in after he plugged the drain.
"Your closet, it's warm, and soft, and nice."
"And dirty," Viktor added, with a touch to Yuuri's cute, grubby head, causing the other to coo in annoyance. "Get undressed."
Viktor attempted to be gentle when scrubbing Yuuri free of his grimy layer. Finally, under all that soot, creamy layers of skin much tanner than Viktor's own were finally shown. Viktor couldn't contemplate how adorable Yuuri was, his hair mused from Viktor scrubbing it with small amounts of shampoo.
"Wait, wait. I can do it myself." Yuuri spoke, shooing Viktor's finger away from Yuuri's miniature scalp.
Viktor's eyes felt heavy and sleepy. He leaned against his hand with his elbows resting on the sink's lip. Yuuri bathed wholeheartedly, he even requested Viktor bring him conditioner.
"You ready?" Viktor murmured softly, he was very close to dozing off.
"Yes," Yuuri replied after a few seconds, intent on scrubbing his feet.
"Wait here, Yuuri," Viktor said, and quickly got to his feet in search of an old tea towel. He found a warn towel that was nearly felt at this point, and hastily cut a ragged square from the edge.
Drying Yuuri was something Viktor could never unsee, not like he'd ever want to. Viktor adored the way Yuuri's hair stuck up in all directions after Viktor had dried it. He loved the way Yuuri insisted he did it himself, even attempting to grab the towel patch out of Viktor's grasp.
Viktor couldn't help but coo at Yuuri's antics. He poked at Yuuri's soft stomach, and nearly whined when the fat there jiggled.
Over the next few days, Viktor learned that Yuuri adored rice, and he loved the taste of tomato. Viktor made sure to cut him little pieces of the red fruit about twice a day. Viktor couldn't help but mewl softly at the happy, purr-like noise Yuuri created after a nibble of especially juicy tomato.
Viktor really tried to clean Yuuri's little pants after Yuuri had to sadly sleep in them for one extra night. Viktor did recognize the fabric Yuuri had used to make it though, it was part of an old pair of boxers. Viktor didn't mind, not in the slightest, but he really needed to make Yuuri his own clothes.
Later, he spoke to Mila about his conflict.
"You knit, right?"
"I crochet, firstly, but I mainly sew. Why?" Mila looked questionably at Viktor from where she was stretching on a balance bar. Viktor really needed to stop stalling while tying his shoes.
"I'm curious, is all. Theoretically, if you were to make clothes for, say, someone fifteen centimeters tall, how would you do it?"
Following Mila's written instructions, Viktor made Yuuri some very small clothes. He only made basic things, though, like underwear, pants, and simple shirts. It didn't stop him from making a very tiny knitted hat, and scarf pair. It also just happened to be in what he found out was Yuuri's favorite color, blue.
Yuuri lay in Viktor's open palm, one late night. He sucked a tiny slice of tomato, occasionally, and most likely accidentally, licking Viktor's thumb. Viktor was scrolling through his phone with the other hand, idly paying attention to Yuuri's antics. Once Yuuri actually bit Viktor's flesh, he knew the little guy was playing. Looking squarely at Yuuri for the first time in about twenty minutes, Viktor saw that there been some changes to his position. Firstly, Yuuri was laying on his stomach, obviously flushed. Next, he was definitely suckling the small part where Viktor's forefinger merged with his thumb. Lastly, Viktor wouldn't later admit that this detail made his cock throb, two plump arms were forced down Yuuri's pants.
"Oh, Yuuri," Viktor hummed, simultaneously bringing Yuuri closer to his face, and sitting up. He shimmied out of his pants while trying not to jostle Yuuri too much. Yuuri, by now, figured that he needed to suck on as much of Viktor's skin as he could at the moment. He placed kitten licks, and little kisses over where he could reach on Viktor's face, whining, and releasing short excerpts of air.
Feeling Yuuri, Viktor totally felt his dick swell harder than it already was. He realized he had unconsciously began fisting himself, and had started to breathe deeply. Viktor carefully brought Yuuri down to the head of his cock, and was thankful when Yuuri got the message to start licking, and kissing it. He was sure Yuuri had gotten off already, but that didn't stop the guy from doing as much as he could to Viktor's dick.
Looking at Yuuri's tiny hands wrapped around his engorged cock brought him to completion. He grunted along with the force of his orgasm, little Yuuri getting startled by the unsuspecting wave of cum.
Viktor brought Yuuri up to the pillow next to his, and was asleep in two minutes.
"Do you want me to make you your own bed?" Viktor asked, making sure to lean down where Yuuri was on the kitchen counter.
"But I like sleeping next to you," Yuuri spoke, making grabby hands. Viktor knew just what he meant, and he showed it by swiftly moving his thumb near Yuuri's face. Yuuri kissed his thumb intently, causing Viktor's heart to melt just a little more than it already had, if possible. "May I please have some more rice?"
"Of course," Viktor brought him what he wanted, and couldn't help but notice that Yuuri was just a tad more pudgy than when Viktor first found him.
Yuuri ate the rice carefully, making sure not to messy his face, or the countertop he was on.
"V-Viktor, can I...?" Yuuri trailed off, tugging at the hem of his pants.
"Hmm?" Viktor gently brushed the growing bangs out of Yuuri's face, playing dumb.
"Please," Yuuri pleaded, grabbing onto the finger that brushed his hair.
"Okay, darling, let's get you ready."
How Viktor got in these situations, he didn't know. But he did know, by a long shot, that he truly adored Yuuri. He loved his chubby thighs, and tiny cock. The way cum would shoot in little spurts across Yuuri's pudgy stomach (and occasionally Viktor's finger) would make him squeal if he were a girl.
Viktor licked his pinky throughly, already salivating at seeing Yuuri's thick legs spread for Viktor alone across the counter. Viktor began slowly, ever so slowly penetrating Yuuri with his pinky. If Yuuri's flush, and sweet whines, were any indication that Yuuri was enjoying himself, he'd say he would be correct.
"Yuuri, Yuuri, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're sucking in my finger so, so well."
Yuuri pleaded for Viktor to stop by the time he had gotten to the first knuckle. Yuuri was panting loudly, whirring noises erupting from his small mouth. Squirming slightly, he shyly told Viktor he could move now.
Viktor was very, very hard, and couldn't stop his hand from snaking into his pants, at least to cup himself. Viktor rocked his finger, quite gently, and turned his fingers just to hear Yuuri cry in pleasure. He couldn't stop from cumming just from Yuuri's noises, stained boxers an issue for future Viktor.
"Morning, Viktor," a voice spoke directly into Viktor's ear, he was barely awake. He shockingly felt wide awake when a hundred seventy-five centimeter Yuuri braced his weight on Viktor's chest, and surged forward, kissing his lips hard enough to bruise.