Chapter Text
When Otabek comes to St. Petersburg to visit, Yuri is ecstatic.
He drags his friend all over the city, showing him his favorite spots, from restaurants to arcades to little shops tucked in corners. Otabek goes along with it all with his usual stoic expression, though Yuri catches a slim curve of a smile on his face every now and again, and it makes his heart speed up in his chest.
It’s so nice, having him here. He’s like Yuri’s own special person. Not that he doesn’t have any friends in St. Petersburg - of course, there are his rink mates. But Georgi’s been off with his new girlfriend, Katya or whatever her name is, and Mila is a social butterfly with friends all over the place. He’s usually with Victor and Katsudon - er, Yuuri - but most times, they’re too wrapped up in each other to give him individual attention. So yeah. He’s really thrilled that Otabek decided to visit.
Their last stop of the day is the skating rink. It’s mostly empty, save for a few stray groups of children wobbling on the ice, and Mila, who stayed late to practice her short program for the upcoming season. She grins at the sight of Yuri and Otabek coming through the doors, their skates slung over their shoulders.
“Yurio!” she waves, her voice echoing around the big rink.
Yuri feels a flash of irritation, but it’s mostly out of habit, now. Otabek’s really the only person besides his grandpa who still calls him just ‘Yuri’, choosing to refer to the Japanese Yuuri by last name to avoid confusion. Everyone else caught on to the ‘Yurio’ nickname that Victor infuriatingly brought with him from Japan. Even Yakov had slipped up and used it a few times, rather than his standard ‘Yura’.
“Keep your voice down, hag!” he shouts back, and she laughs at him before going back to practice her combination spin. Yuri huffs a stray blond hair out of his face and leads Otabek to a bench so they can tie their skates on.
Otabek, he notices as soon as they both step onto the ice, seems distracted. At first, he thinks it’s the kids, who are loud and annoying as usual, but no. He looks closer, and finds that Otabek is actually looking at Mila. An uncomfortable feeling rises in the pit of Yuri’s stomach.
He’s about to ask about it, when Otabek speaks up instead.
“She won silver at last year’s Grand Prix Finals, didn’t she?” he asks. “I saw her free skate. It was good.”
Yuri blinks. The feeling subsides, replaced with relief that Otabek merely recognized her from last year.
“Yeah, that’s her. You watch the women’s division too, Beka?”
Otabek hums. “I was just passing through,” he answers, oddly demure. “I caught her performance and couldn’t look away.”
Yuri freezes. “Uh…”
But then Otabek turns his gaze away from the oblivious Mila, and smiles his gentle smile at Yuri, and whatever unpleasant thoughts Yuri is having promptly disappear.
“So, where are we going after this?”
“Oh! We’re going to Victor’s place for dinner. Katsudon is making… Well, katsudon. You gotta try it, Beka, it’s delicious!”
Yuri allows himself to smile back as he and Otabek continue their lazy glide around the rink, chatting without a care in the world.
Though, just to be safe, Yuri steers them away from Mila every time she veers too close.
Blessedly, Victor and Yuuri like Otabek, too.
But why wouldn’t they like him? Yuri beams proudly at the table as he shows his best friend off, and Otabek acts like a man meeting his date’s parents. Yuri totally doesn’t blush as he thinks that.
(Alright, he blushes a little.)
It’s just hard not to feel a little warm and fuzzy, watching his best friend and pseudo-parental figures (though he’ll deny it tooth and nail if they ever find out he felt that way) interact. Victor laughs loudly, patting Otabek on the shoulder as he relates an anecdote about skating to him, and Yuuri asks if Otabek wants more iced tea, his voice and smile both soft.
Yuri doesn’t even mind when Victor leans over to press a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek in the middle of dinner, when he would usually make a retching noise and act disgusted.
Though he does bring it up later, after they’ve left Victor and Yuuri’s shared apartment to return Otabek to his hotel.
“Sorry if they were all, you know, gross and shit,” Yuri mumbles. “I asked them to tone it down.”
“It’s fine,” Otabek assures, sounding amused. “I actually thought it was sweet.”
Yuri squints. “You… you did?”
“Yeah. It’s nice when two people are in love like that. You can tell they really care about each other…” Otabek’s expression becomes soft, almost fond. “Don’t most people want a relationship like that?”
Yuri finds himself staring at Otabek, stunned, right up until they arrive at Otabek’s room. Then the older teen turns around, smiles, and bids Yuri goodnight. Yuri hears his own voice say ‘goodnight’ back, but he’s in a daze. He makes his way back to his own apartment, and stares up at the ceiling of his room, ignoring the raised, inquisitive eyebrow of his grandfather.
Otabek’s going to be the death of him, he decides.
He falls asleep with a smile.
Later that week, Yuri wakes up late, so he texts Otabek to go to the rink without him. Otabek replies with an ‘I’ll meet you there, then’ and a thumbs up emoji, and Yuri grins like an idiot at his phone for five minutes before he goes to shower.
But when he makes it to the rink, he’s met with a shocking sight.
Otabek is talking to Mila.
Maybe that in itself wasn’t shocking, but Yuri still stood stock-still in the doorway of the rink. Mila wasn’t on the ice, she was sitting on the benches in front of the dividers, a water bottle in hand. Otabek, though, was on the ice, though he leaned against the dividers as he chatted with Mila, an easy smile on his face.
Otabek's eyes brighten as Mila laughs at something he said, and the uncomfortable feeling returns to Yuri’s gut.
He stalks forward, rudely interrupting their conversation, though neither of the older skaters seem to note that that was his intent. Mila grins at him and Otabek smiles, but it’s so different from the smile he was aiming at Mila earlier that Yuri just gets angrier.
He skates angry that day, to Yakov’s frustration, but no one seems to think anything is particularly ‘off’ about their resident Russian Punk. No one except Yuuri, of course, who watches Yuri with concerned eyes. When Yuri is forced to take a break by his coach, the Japanese skater murmurs something to Victor, waits for him to nod, and then glides over to where Yuri is sitting, far from the other skaters.
“Yurio?” he asks gently.
Yuri doesn’t meet his eyes. “What?” he bites out.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine. God, you’re such a mom.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Yuuri says, because of course he does. He would, Yuri thinks absently. Mrs. Katsuki is like, the mother to end all mothers. The epitome of moms.
He doesn’t flinch when Yuuri replaces his blade guards and sits down next to him.
“Really, Yurio. What’s bothering you?”
Yuri finally lifts his head, only to glare at Yuuri’s stupid, overly-concerned face. Fuck him. “Why? Did Yakov or Victor send you to interrogate me?”
They’re both well aware of the aforementioned Russians, who are both looking their way curiously. But Yuuri just shakes his head and smile.
“Even if they did, I wouldn’t tell them anything if you didn’t want me to.”
Yuri frowns, searching Yuuri’s face, but he already knows the Japanese skater isn’t lying. Finally, he just huffs, gesturing vaguely in the opposite direction. Yuuri follows his gesture and sees Mila and Otabek, now both on the ice, together. They’re skating side-by-side, looking for all the world like a couple in a cheesy romance film.
Yuuri’s eyebrows draw up in confusion. “Mila-chan and Otabek?”
Jerking his head down once, Yuri nods.
“I don’t understand. Why do they… Oh.” Realization dawns on his face, and he turns back to Yuri with wide eyes. “Yurio…”
He glowers. “What? Stop looking at me like that, pig.”
Yuuri doesn’t stop looking at him like that - like Yuri’s just announced his early retirement from skating, or heard that Makkachin got sick again. His eyes are soft with sympathy, his lips downturned and pressed together. It’s quietly devastated, and too close to pity for Yuri’s liking.
“Maybe you should talk about this with Otabek,” Yuuri says eventually.
Yuri barks out a laugh. “And say what? ‘Hey Beka, I don’t like the way you look at Mila. Look at me like that instead, okay?’ Give me a break.”
“So what are you going to do?” Yuuri demands to know. “Just sit and glower until he notices on his own?”
“I didn’t ask for your advice, pig,” Yuri snarls. Predictably, it does not deter Yuuri.
“It’s already affecting your skating, Yurio,” he reminds him, not unkindly. “How will it affect your performance this season? You need to get this sorted.”
“I…” Yuri swallows thickly. “ Okay, jesus. I’ll talk to him.”
Yuuri raises an eyebrow.
“I promise I’ll talk to him,” Yuri corrects, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “God, how does Victor put up with you?”
Yuuri just smiles sweetly, and pats Yuri on the shoulder. It absolutely does not feel reassuring. “Thank you, Yurio. And if you need to talk to someone, you know I’m always here.”
“Yeah…” Yuri raises his hand and brushes his bangs out of his face. He doesn’t look at the older skater. “... Thanks.”
He watches as Yuuri gets up and returns to Victor, who obviously starts asking questions, but he merely shakes his head and continues skating. Yuri chews on his bottom lip, his gaze shifting from the two of them to another pair on the ice.
Mila and Otabek.
Mila was making an exaggerated gesture with her hands, deep in some kind of story, and Otabek seemed to hang on to her every word, rapt with attention. Yuri grips the edge of the bench, scowling.
Much as he hates to admit it, Katsudon is right. He needs to get this sorted.
He just needs to figure out how to bring it up to Otabek...
Otabek beats him to it.
They’re eating at a cafe Yuri had shown him his first day in St. Petersburg, the atmosphere between them calm, almost like normal. Yuri had nearly forgotten his issues entirely, had it not been for Otabek’s phone buzzing towards the end of their meal. Otabek checks his messages and smiles at his screen, piquing Yuri’s interest.
“Who’s that?” he asks around a mouthful of pastries.
“Mila,” Otabek answers.
Yuri almost chokes on his food.
Otabek is looking at him with alarm as he coughs and chugs down the rest of his water. When he’s finally recovered, the older teen blinks.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“I’m - I’m fine,” Yuri grits, his throat still stinging. “I was just surprised… Since when do you have Mila’s number?”
“Oh, we exchanged numbers a few days ago at the rink,” he replies. That easy smile returns to his face, and Yuri hates it.
He tamps down on the irrational feeling. “… What did she text you about?”
If anything, though, the smile just grows wider. “She’s shopping with a friend, and found this.” Otabek presents his phone screen to Yuri, who (however reluctantly) leans forward to see.
It’s a snapchat of a stuffed animal - a bear, to be more precise. It’s tan-colored, wearing a pair of lederhosen and a little hat, and the caption reads, ‘i found you, beka!’, followed by a two emojis; the laughing one, and the heart.
Yuri gapes.
“Isn’t it cute?” Otabek asks, oblivious. He pulls his phone back and smiles at the photo fondly. “She said she bought it for me to take home.”
Yuri snaps out of his daze, and grips his water glass even tighter. It might break.
“By the way,” Otabek starts, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Is Mila seeing anyone right now?”
Fuck.
“... Why do you want to know?” he mutters back.
“Well…” Otabek rubs the back of his neck, frowning like it should be obvious why he’s asking. “I’m interested in her.”
Yuri just stares. It feels like his stomach has just plummeted towards the ground.
Otabek mistakes his horror for something else. “Or, um… is she not into guys?” he asks, hesitant.
“She’s…” Yuri swallows. He can’t find the words. What is he supposed to say? Mila is bi, but if he’d said she was into girls, he wouldn’t strictly be lying. And it would deter Otabek from pursuing her. And maybe, given some time, he’d get over this silly infatuation, and realize that a much better match has been standing beside him all this time… namely, Yuri Plisetsky.
But then he thinks about, of all people, Yuuri. He’s annoying, yeah, but he’s also one of the best people Yuri’s ever known - not that he’d ever admit so out loud. What would he do in a situation like this?
Internally, Yuri grimaces, as he already knows the answer. If Yuuri were in his place and Victor in Otabek’s, Yuuri wouldn’t hesitate; he’d let Victor go after the person he loved, even at the cost of his own heart, because Katsudon is a stupid self-sacrificing idiot who cares more about other people’s happiness than his own.
Yuri isn’t like that. He’s the Ice Tiger, the Russian Punk, who’s known for his bratty behavior and selfish attitude. Deceiving someone else for his own gain is definitely something he’d do…
But this is Otabek, and Otabek should be happy. Could he be that with someone like Yuri?
All of this races through his mind in mere seconds, and once it passes, he exhales slowly, lifting his eyes to meet his friend’s. They’re a cool gray - a soldier’s eyes. He loves them.
God, this is gonna hurt.
“She’s single. She broke up with a hockey player before last season, but she hasn’t dated anyone since. At least, that I know of. She and Katsudon are close, you might wanna ask him.”
The words come out neutral, but they taste like ash in his mouth.
Otabek brightens considerably. “That’s good to know… Do you think he’d help me?”
“Probably,” Yuri shrugs. But he’s going to have a hell of a lot of questions for me, first. “Beka?”
“Yes?”
“... You sure about Mila?”
Otabek chuckles. “You’ve known her longer than I have. Why, is there something I should know?”
I love you.
“Nothing really,” he lies. “I just don’t want another version of Victor and Katsudon to deal with.”
Otabek laughs, the sound light yet rich. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not nearly that handsy in public.”
Yuri rolls his eyes, and it’s quiet between them for a moment. All they can hear is the sounds of the city around them - cars, people, conversations.
“Hey, Yuri?” Otabek breaks the silence.
Yuri’s head snaps up. “Yeah?”
He smiles warmly. “Thanks. It means a lot to have your support in this… I’m not really that good with relationships.”
Yuri bites down on his tongue and just smiles, nodding his head.
On the plus side, they’re not as bad as Victor and Yuuri.
No one could be as disgustingly in love as those two, Yuri thinks, but Otabek and Mila come fairly close.
Otabek asked the female figure skater out just a few days before he left St. Petersburg, and she’d agreed. It must have gone well, because they went out every night after that until he had to leave. Mila came with them to the airport to see Otabek off.
They hadn’t kissed, thank god, but she wrapped him up in a tight hug, and Yuri could see the way Otabek melted shyly into the embrace.
And if he’d hoped that some distance would put them off, he was wrong. Mila texted and Skyped him constantly, to the point where Yakov began confiscating her phone whenever she came to practice, much to her dismay. She’s resorted to using Victor’s phone, which he oh-so-graciously loaned to her, but Yakov found out about that fairly quickly and banned them both from using their phones in the rink.
Yuuri had given Yuri an apologetic smile. Yuri ignored him.
The Japanese skater had tried to talk to Yuri several times now, but every time, Yuri found an excuse to avoid him. He couldn’t do it forever, he knew, because even Victor was catching on to his avoidance of Yuuri, but he was going to put it off for as long as possible.
The worst part was, though, nothing really changed.
Otabek still talked to him, and the subject of Mila rarely came up. They might’ve talked a little less, sure, but their interactions remained largely the same. For some reason, that just bothered Yuri more. Like Otabek having a girlfriend wasn’t the devastating, end-all thing he’d thought it was. He wonders if he’d feel more satisfied if things did change, but Otabek is making the effort to stay friends with him, and the reminder that Otabek is a great person makes Yuri want to punch a hole in the wall.
After a few more days, nearly a week, of moping, Yuuri manages to catch him the locker rooms after practice. They’re the only two in there, as Victor was still chatting with Yakov about his free program, and the other skaters were either still out there or had left early.
Yuri sees the Japanese man standing in the room with him, his arms crossed over his chest, and he groans, slamming his locker shut.
“Look, Katsudon,” he spits. “Before you say anything. I tried, okay? I wanted to tell Beka how I felt, but he came out first with his whole thing about Mila, and I…” He looks towards the floor, resolutely not meeting Yuuri’s eyes. “He really likes her.”
There’s a pause. “You really like Otabek, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” snaps the teen. His eyes are burning, fuck. “That’s why I let him go after her! Otabek is nice and charming and wonderful, and he deserves to be happy with whoever the fuck he chooses!” Yuri snaps his gaze up, glaring harshly at the other Yuuri, who just stands there, face neutral. “That’s what you’d do, isn’t it?! Self-sacrifice for love and all that stupid shit? So don’t come in here and lecture me about my choices, because I stand by them. Beka is happy with Mila and that’s all I care about!” he says, but his voice cracks on Mila’s name. Tears began flowing down his cheeks halfway through his little tirade, and he curses, hurriedly wiping them away with his sleeve. It’s one thing to sacrifice his love life like Yuuri would, but he draws the line at crying in public, too.
He hears footsteps, and he knows that Yuuri is walking towards him, but he keeps his face hidden in his sleeve. He doesn’t want to know what the look on Yuuri’s face is. Disappointment, maybe. Pity, most likely. He can’t deal with those brown eyes regarding him with the same emotion you’d give a kicked puppy, because Yuri Plisetsky was not a kicked puppy.
He braces himself for Yuuri’s inevitable sappy speech about how Yuri just needs to try harder, that Otabek could still be in his grasp if he really wanted him… But that’s not what the older skater does.
Instead, Yuri feels a slender pair of arms wrap around his shoulders, and suddenly he’s being pulled into a hug. His face is tucked against Yuuri’s chest, the Japanese man’s hands holding onto him protectively. Yuri blinks against the fabric of Yuuri’s Team Japan jacket and breathes in the smell of generic body wash and what he knows is Victor’s shampoo.
“I’m not going to lecture you,” Yuuri says softly. “Given my track record, I don’t think I’m the right person for that. I just wanted to know if you were okay, Yurio.”
“I…” Yuri breathes in, his breath shuddering. He leans his head against Yuuri’s shoulder and sags in defeat. “I don’t know.”
“That’s alright,” says Yuuri. His thumb rubs soothing little circles into Yuri’s back. “I’m not the only one worried, you know. Victor and Yakov are losing their minds over what’s gotten into you. Lilia is, too, even if she won’t show it. Even Georgi’s noticed, and he’s off with Katrina more often than not.”
Yuri groans, burying his head further into Yuuri’s chest. It makes the taller man chuckle, warm vibrations that Yuri can feel in his body. “Fuck those guys,” he says tiredly. “If anyone’s gonna be my rinkside therapist, it’ll just be you.”
“Good to know,” laughs Yuuri.
The mood in the room is far more lighthearted than before. Yuri just allows himself to be held by his friend-slash-parental-figure, content as Yuuri rocks them quietly back and forth on their feet.
“You know…” Yuuri says, after a while. “Mila’s been worried, too. She’s noticed that you don’t talk to her anymore.”
Yuri grimaces. “I just… I…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Yuuri placates. “Just… Promise me you won’t let this ruin your friendships. You deserve so much more than that, Yurio, and you have so many people that care about you.”
Yuuri feels a fresh wave of tears building in his head, but he valiantly blinks them away. “You’re such a sap, Katsudon.”
He feels Yuuri shrug. “What’s wrong with that?”
Yuri doesn’t reply; he just leaves his face buried in the older man’s chest for what feels like an eternity, his heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks.
He doesn’t even notice when Victor walks into the locker room, looking for his missing fiance, only to see the two of them hugging silently.
He doesn’t notice Victor’s confused expression, or the way Yuuri minutely shakes his head, sending the older Russian a look that promises to explain later.
He doesn’t notice when Victor slips back out as quietly as he came.
Over the next few weeks, Yuri does get better. It’s not a smooth process, however. There are moments, like when Otabek texts him a heart emoji in jest, or when he sees a post from Mila’s Instagram gushing about their three-month anniversary, that make Yuri want to curl into a ball and shut the rest of the world out again.
But when he feels like that, he shoots a quick text to Yuuri, asking if it’s alright to call. And everytime, without fail, Yuuri says yes. So at least he has someone to vent to about these things. There’s always his grandpa, yes, but Yuuri is closer to his age, and he doesn’t want to burden him with his personal issues, no matter how okay he knows his grandpa would be with it.
Eventually, he works up the nerve to finally talk to Mila - not to tell her about his feelings for Otabek, of course, because he’s not quite ready for that yet - and the female skater is so overjoyed that he’s no longer ignoring her that she sweeps him up in a tight hug that lasts a good seven minutes. Yuri almost passes out, but it’s worth it to see the bright smile on Mila’s face. Because despite everything, she is his friend, and he does want her to be happy, too.
Yuuri encourages him to tell Otabek the truth anyway, but Yuri declines. He actually finds himself thinking about it a lot, wondering about the implications it would have on Otabek and Mila’s relationship. It’s still new, but they seem to be going strong, so maybe Yuri revealing his feelings wouldn’t be too hard on them. Sure, they’d probably feel bad, and it’d be awkward as hell for a while, but it would definitely settle itself, right?
Or what about the other scenario, that Yuri only dares to think about when it’s been a particularly bad day. The one where Otabek realizes that he loves Yuri too, breaks things off with Mila, and runs straight to Yuri to confess. His imagination always places the scene in the rain, and he thinks maybe he’s been watching too many romcoms with Yuuri and Victor. But could something like that possibly happen?
Yuri doesn’t want to know. He’d much rather skate, so that’s what he does.
His theme is going to be “progress”. He ignores the way Yuuri beams at him when he announces it, though Victor insists that he spots a smile on the teen’s face as he turns away.
But, well, Victor is stupid.