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Otabek doesn't spend Yuri's first heat with him because first off, Yuri is sixteen. Second off, Otabek had conflicting visions of (God forbid) knocking Yuri up straight out of the gate and then Yuri flinging himself into motherhood with the sort of obstinate determination that made Otabek dream of him for years, instead of sensibly doing the sensible thing and saving his career. Thirdly, and most importantly, Otabek literally had five seconds between realizing that the delicious smell and demanding call was Yuri and Katsuki throwing himself between them with a look on his face Otabek hadn't known he was capable of. He bared his teeth at Otabek and growled, almost as low as an alpha, and stood between him and Yuri like Otabek was going to do something stupid.
Otabek dropped to the ground, neck bared, staring at the floor.
Katsuki growled again, and then said, "Give me your jacket."
Otabek had no idea what was going on, but his parents didn't raise him to question an angry, protective omega, so he stripped off his jacket and handed it over. Katsuki proceeded to wrap it around Yuri, who was still making the pissiest calls Otabek had ever heard, and drag him away. Amazingly, once the jacket was around Yuri's shoulders, he seemed to calm down enough to let Katsuki hustle him away.
Victor Nikiforov put a heavy hand on the back of his neck and hauled him into the bathroom, and unceremoniously into a cold shower. Otabek sputtered and swore. Dimly he heard Yuri let out an angry shriek, like he'd just realized Otabek wasn't with Yuri, where he belonged. The cold water cleared his head just enough to make him realize how close they'd come to disaster.
"Thanks," he said.
Then he opened his damn mouth and said, "Are they - Are they gonna -"
Victor Nikiforov makes a horrible face. "He's like, five years old."
Otabek had no idea what an omega did to get another omega through their presentation heat. His dad had helped his sister through hers, so obviously it wasn't always - like that . Equally as obviously, Otabek knew that if Yuri thought he had a ghost of a chance he would trip Katsuki and land on his dick in less than a heartbeat. But Victor Nikiforov wasn't worried, so Otabek decided it wasn't his business to worry either.
The two Yuris remain holed up for three days, while Victor Nikiforov ("you can call me Victor, you know") and Otabek prowl the house and the hallway. Victor is allowed in with food, which does a lot to quiet Otabek's nerves, but the one time Otabek tried, Katsuki starts up a growl that so clearly means business that Otabek spends the rest of the day on the other end of the house, resentfully hugging Yuri's cat Potya. Potya keeps going up to the door and yelling at it, even though Katsuki won't let him in. Otabek feels like he really understands Potya's feelings.
On the third day, the door finally opens, letting out a rush of heavily scented air. It stinks like neither Yuri has bathed for the entire time they've been there, and a little like heat-milk and slick. Katsuki comes out first, like he's still guarding Yuri, but he just goes straight to Victor and faceplants on his chest. "I'm tired," he says, in a pouty voice.
Victor makes one of his objectively creepy little crooning noises and cuddles Katsuki up close. It's really weird, seeing Katsuki so soft and clingy. Otabek is used to seeing him wearing a distant, faintly murderous expression before competition, or smiling at Victor.
Yuri, on the other hand, looks like hell. His hair is lank with sweat and his face is chalky white. His eyes are sunken into his face, the skin around them bruised looking, as if he hadn't slept the entire time. He's lost at least five pounds, which he didn't have to lose in the first place.
Otabek opens up his arms.
Yuri shuffles forward into them, and puts his head on Otabek's shoulder silently. Otabek is the one who heaves out a deep, relieved sigh at the scent of Yuri rising up. "You smell like a cat box," he tells him.
"You smell like a cat box," says Yuri, or mumbles, rather. "You smell like a dog."
"Nobody smells nice right now," says Victor, petting Katsuki like he can't keep his hands off him. He strokes Katsuki's hair in small, obsessive motions. Otabek hopes he isn't doing that to Yuri, but it's hard to control his hands. "Showers and food, I think."
Apparently Victor had just chosen to turn off everybody's phone after leaving a cheery little message on Coach Feltsman's phone, because that's just what you do when you're Victor Nikiforov. When Otabek turns on his phone while Yuri is falling asleep in the shower, he has about fifteen messages from his coach and about fifty from his parents, all in the theme of did you just ruin a nice omega boy. Otabek turns his phone off again and begins making supper.
Katsuki comes out, bathed and smelling like Victor's shower gel, and silently begins to help. That's the nice thing about Katsuki. He never talks if he doesn't have to. He keeps looking at Otabek from the corner of his eyes.
Otabek waits.
Katsuki opens the rice cooker - Victor had filled it earlier, in one of his frequent anxious circles of the house - and portions out three servings of congee. Then he says, "he likes you a lot, you know."
"I know," says Otabek.
They're silent again. Otabek portions out scrambled eggs into the rice porridge, and Katsuki shaves a little ginger on top. "He has to go to the doctor tomorrow, but I think he'll have his next heat in a few months." Katsuki pauses, deliberate. "After the season is over, I mean."
"I see," says Otabek.
"You should talk to him," says Katsuki.
Otabek looks down at the spring onions he's cutting up, and doesn't say anything. He thinks about the wild throb that had gone through his body when he heard Yuri begin to call. He thinks about skating with him, skating against him. There's a lot to think about. Yuri's probably already thought about it three or four times. Otabek isn't quick like Yuri is. He's more like Katsuki, putting out work and effort to make up for the genius he lacks.
He thinks he'd like to do it anyway.
Otabek knocks on Yuri's door after dinner. Yuri had eaten half his congee and then put the spoon down, looking ill. He hadn't gotten sick, but when Victor suggested that he go to bed, Yuri hadn't argued. That's probably the most worrying thing that Otabek's seen the entire week.
"Come in or whatever, I didn't lock it," says Yuri.
Otabek opens the door and looks around. His first impression is that it's a sort of cocoon, fitted around Yuri, rather than an actual room. His second impression is that it smells a hell of a lot like Yuri Katsuki in here, even more than Otabek would have expected after Yuri and Katsuki had spent three days cooped up together. It smells a little like Victor too, and Otabek himself. Otabek looks more closely at the nest that Yuri's made of his bed. There's Otabek's jacket that Katsuki had taken, but -- is that his hand towel from the club in Barcelona? And he's pretty sure he's seen that shirt on Victor before, and that towel looks like one of Katsuki's Tarepanda ones. Come to look at it, there's a lot of things that he's seen around Katsuki before.
What it doesn't smell like is sex, to Otabek's relief.
Otabek opens his mouth, and Yuri lifts his head up enough to say, "One word and I will fucking kill you. I'll decorate this fucking den with your entrails. I'll do it. I'll feed your liver to my cat and your lungs to Victor's stupid dog."
"I was going to say," says Otabek, deadpan, "that it's a nice nest. It smells like it's very comfortable."
"Go fuck yourself," says Yuri, and then more crossly, "Come here."
Otabek goes over to the nest and looks down at Yuri. Yuri makes an impatient noise and grabs hold of Otabek and tugs until he's in the nest with Yuri. "That dumbfuck and the pig are going to be gross all night," he says. "You should stay here where you can't hear them."
Otabek says, "It's not very proper. Katsuki might kill me. Your grandpa might kill me."
"I know what the fuck I'm doing," says Yuri, with enough energy to almost sound like his normal self. He shifts around so his back is against Otabek and his face is against the wall. It's clear that he is willing to let Otabek put his mouth softly against his still-swollen scent gland and be a bulwark against the world waiting for them.
"You're sixteen," says Otabek.
"Good thing you're not, then," says Yuri. He shifts a little closer, and Otabek can't help but tighten his grasp around him.
"We've got time," says Otabek, finally. He's very warm, with Yuri curled up next to him. He hadn't realized how badly his instincts had reacted to not being able to be near Yuri in his heat. He's glad Katsuki hadn't let him near, but now it feels like he's been on edge all week and can finally relax. Yuri is here. He's allowing Otabek to take care of him. "You don't have to decide anything now."
"Don't be stupid," says Yuri. "What the fuck. I chose a long time ago."
Me too, thinks Otabek. Me too.