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Traveling. Always traveling. With or without Yakov's permission. Victor had made a promise. How could he forget? He regretted his travels, until the fateful night he and Otabek actually became friends. Yuri had never imagined having friends other than Victor. And then Yuuri had to intrude on that.
But Otabek had intrigued him since the day he had blown him off. He had been entirely graceful and polite about it. Which had intrigued Yuri from the beginning. And then, Otabek had come to his aid when he needed it most. No one had ever put so much thought and care into it.
It actually made him stop and think. Who was this man? He was different, for sure, in wanting to actually get to know him. His own confidence and pushiness tended to push others away, but Otabek stayed put. He was firm. He actually cared about the person behind the gold medal.
Always the polite one. Always the caring one. Yuri was falling, and he was falling hard. 'Get your mind in the game, Plisetsky.' he huffed to himself, his pirouettes and salchows suffering with his thoughts. He had never let himself slip before. He was in this to win. To make something of himself.
His line of sight went to Otabek, who gave him a thumbs up. His face flushed and he scowled, more at himself, before returning the thumbs up.
“Davai,” he said to himself, a smile on his face as he worked to further improve his routine.