Chapter Text
Yuri tossed his bags into his room, which he did not want to call his room, but Otabek insisted.
"It's not like I wanted to stay here." Yuri reminded him for the fifth time that day; at the airport, on the ride there, and so on. He was determined to keep his distance from Otabek in order to keep his secret, well, a secret. The last thing he wanted was for Otabek to find out, or worse, they throw him to the girls division. Ugh.
"Just keep telling yourself that," Otabek replied, sauntering off to his room next to Yuri's. Yuri watched him disappear into the doorway and he grumbled to himself, slamming his door behind him. He had to unpack his things, including his pads and his binders...
Maybe that can stay in the suitcase. He could tuck it under the bed and pray that Otabek doesn't go looking for anything. Oh, this was all anxiety-inducing for Yuri. It sucked he didn't have someone to help him through it, to spill his feelings about the whole situation to.
He pulled off his jeans and pulled on soft, blue pajama pants. After a day of traveling over to Otabek, he was tired and wanted to be comfortable for once. He climbed into the bed Otabek provided, sliding between the soft blankets, and before long, he had passed out.
**
The next morning, Otabek had prepared breakfast for Yuri, and had come to wake him up.
Yuri heard a hard knock at the door and he jumped up, eyeing the clock: it was 10:00 a.m. He groaned and fell back into the bed, hugging his pillow tightly to his face.
On the other side of the door, Otabek stood there holding the Pirozhki's he had made for him; he knew it was one of Yuri's favorites, and after a long day of travel he figured it would be nice comfort food for him. He was growing impatient, though, and knocked harder.
"Come on Yuri I know you're awake."
Yuri groaned more and refused to move. Otabek was feeling lame for making him these and Yuri not responding, so he took action himself: he grabbed the door handle with his free hand and opened it to find Yuri face down on the bed, his ass way in the air and his face stuffed in his pillow.
When Yuri heard the door slam against the wall, he jumped up in embarrassment and covered himself with the blanket. "Otabek!"
"Yes, Yura?"
Yuri blushed and he looked down at what he had in his hands: a plate of Pirozhkis. They smelled incredible - they were not as good as grandpas, he added, unwilling to give Otabek all the glory.
"I made them for you." Otabek shoved his hands forward, presenting the plate to Yuri who was still, quiet frankly stunned by his gesture, but he recovered quickly. Otabek got impatient and brought the plate to Yuri who still hadn't got out of bed. "Take it already."
Yuri reached forward, the blanket falling to his waist. Otabek didn't notice it, he simply watched his reaction as he bit into the first one. His eyes widened with pleasure. "These are so-"
He caught himself, realizing he was about to give him more praise than his own grandfather. His face dropped back to its hardened look and he finished, "They are good."
Otabek couldn't help but feel the smile tug at the corner of his lips. It was true, he enjoyed when Yuri acted this way, he found it cute. Watching him try and hide his love for something he made.
"How did you sleep?" Otabek said, avoiding the compliment. He didn't want to make it too easy, though, that would be no fun. Yuri shifted uncomfortably on the bed as he finished the last ones.
"I slept okay. Why do you want to know?" He stared away from Otabek now, setting the plate in his lap.
"Is there something wrong with me asking?" Otabek retorted, eyeing Yuri. His eyes grew a little wide at the reply, as if he was expecting there really to be something wrong with him asking. The older man continued to stare at the beautiful blond man on the bed in front of him, waiting for his reply, but he simply changed the subject.
"Get out, I need to get ready for practice. So do you." He mumbled, throwing off the blankets to reveal his soft pajama bottoms that clung to his hips as he stood up and moved to the bathroom.
Otabek sighed and did as he wanted, but Yuri remembered something.
"Thanks."
Otabek stopped at the doorframe but didn't turn. "Thanks for the Pirozhkis," he added, looking at the floor. Otabek grinned, even though Yuri couldn't see, and he moved to leave the room. Yuri fumed that he didn't say anything back and threw a sock at the doorframe, barely missing Otabek's shoulders. "I said thank you!"
Otabek lost the smile and turned to face him, "You're welcome, Yura."
Everytime he called him that, he felt his heart palpatate and his feet froze in place, unable to move. "Stop calling me that," he muttered.
"Why?"
"It's unfair." Yuri stared at the ground, avoiding any eye contact with the other man. Otabek gazed at him, thinking on it.
"No, it's not, Yura." Otabek was really stirring the pot on this one, but he thought it was incredibly adorable how Yuri was acting at this point. It was getting harder to hold up his facade around him.
"Yes it is!" He barked back, crossing his arms, pressing against his binder. That reminded him that he should definitely still be keeping his distance from him, and he added, "now go! I need to get ready, as I said. So. Do. You."
Otabek shrugged, "As long as you don't throw a sock at me again, Yura."
Yuri stared at him with cold eyes as he left the room, his body shaking. Why was Otabek able to mess with his mind so easily! "It is certainly unfair," he whispered to himself as he went back to busying himself with getting ready.
**
Once he had stopped wasting time and actually got dressed, he met Otabek at the door. He had his bad slung over his shoulder and his shades were already on. "Only douche bags wear shades inside," Yuri muttered, pushing past a smirking Otabek to get to the door.
They lived fairly close to the rink they were going to practice at, and Lilia was already there waiting for them. It was going to be a brutal session; he could tell from how she was acting that day.
"Chop, chop boys, lets get this routine started..." and she continued to gripe about everything until it was picture perfect to her, even while warming up. Otabek was just glad to be on the ice with Yuri for once. He looked dazzling as they worked on the first part of the routine, his body perfectly in sync with the music. He tried his best not to let it distract him from his half of the skate, but every time they brushed hands, fire burst into his veins.
Near the end, Lilia reminded them that later in the routine, Otabek (since he was larger and had more muscle) would need to lift him up in a spin, and that they should practice at home. He was afraid that if only grazing his hand brought that emotion alone, what would holding up beautiful Yuri bring, watching him spin effortlessly airborne-
"Otabek, are you coming or not?"
Lilia had long stopped talking and Yuri was already off the ice, stopping to notice Otabek still standing on the ice, staring into space.
He snapped back to reality, zoning in on Yuri so far away across the rink. For a moment, he wished he could take Yuri on the ice with him and dance freely and let the world dissipate. But, he knew better and skated over to Yuri, joining him to the locker rooms.
Walking by his side would have to be enough for now.