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His free program had been almost perfect. Almost. One could be seriously pissed off for that small mistake, but the tears didn't come because of that one fall, not at all. It was just that long months of stress, fear, loneliness and doubts had finally come to an end and Yuri Plisetsky, self proclaimed ice tiger of Russia had started crying like a baby in front of thousands of people because it was the only thing he could do. The storm of emotions in his heart had been too violent and sudden and the boy couldn't contain it anymore.
He tried so hard, but he didn't have enough strenght left to hold back the tears, so he let them come, until the only thing left to do was hiding his face in his hands and fall to his knees.
It was a shame, really a shame, that sort of pathetic things Yuri usually expected from lame people, like a certain pig. Yet it felt good, too, to finally let go and the young russian athlete had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he'd been a bit too hard toward his Japanese colleague.
Anyway he had claimed a gold medal in his senior debut, while setting a new world record and in doing so he had also surpassed the living legend, his own idol, that Victor Nikiforov that everybody in the ice skating's word looked up to. Yuri truly had made history, and in the process he even managed to make that stupid, awesome Katsudon stay. So that he could top his score too, on the next season. He couldn't really complain about that small breaking-down-and-crying incident when everything was just so perfect.
After the medal cerimony Yuri didn't even protest, too much, while Yakov dragged him around to talk with journalists, take pictures, and then talk with more journalists, with Lilia constantly breathing on his neck, reminding him to smile, to have manners, to not use uncharming words.
At the end of the day Yuri was happy but dead tired, his feet hurt, he almost couldn't feel his legs and he just felt like sleeping for three days straight.
His exhaustion was so evident that once they where back at the hotel Yakov finally took pity on him and sent him to bed while he and Lilia dealt with even more interviews. The coach even set the press conference of the next day at noon, so that the young skater could sleep until late.
Yuri didn't need to be told twice and as soon as he was allowed he left his coach's side and headed straight to his room, but even before reaching the elevators he relized he'd left his backpack on the back seat of Yakov's car. Frustrated beyond measure the boy groaned, in that moment it felt like a small tragedy because his room's key was in that backpack.
At least he still had his phone so he could call his coach, but Yakov told him he could not leave the conference room and if Yuri wanted the car's key he had to reach him where he was. That, though, meant being assaulted by the press again and kiss goodbye to his bed for good. Yuri was left with the only option of waiting for Yakov or Lilia right where he was, for god knew how long.
Absolutely forlon, the teen dragged himself to a small couch in the most secluded corner of the hotel's hall, vaguely considering a second possibility: to break into the car and finally get his backpack. If only that didn't mean being skinned alive by his coach in the day of his triumph.
Completely out of ideas Yuri sat on the couch with his elbows on the knees, pressing the palms of his hands on his eyes, trying to will away a splitting headache.
He was so busy being miserable he didn't even notice when somebody got close and crounched in front of him, until he felt the light touch of delicate fingers on his knee.
Yuri opened his eyes, vaguely startled, just to find himslef face to face with nobody else than Otabek Altin. Despite his headhache the Russian had been more than ready to send to hell whoever had had the audacity to come to talk to him in his moment of despair, but for some reason the words died in his troath right away, so when the other boy asked “are you ok?” he could only nod.
Yuri decided to blame his sudden lack of eloquence to the surprise. Sure, he knew Otabek was in the same hotel, like many other skaters, but still, for some reason, he never though he'd find himself in close proximity with the Kazakh anytime soon.
“Yuri you look...”
“Like shit, I know”
“I was going to say exhausted”. Than Otabek brushed away a strand of golden hair from Yuri's face with his fingers, his other hand still on the Russian's knee, as if he wanted to have a better look at his eyes.
Yuri didn't react, everything, and that gesture in particular, was a bit too intimate albeit not unpleasant. Otabek was so close, smelling of shampoo and leather and looking at him with his dark, intense eyes. That small caress, while being an almost brotherly gesture, made Yuri feel a funny, foreign sensation in his stomach he couldn't truly explain. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want it to stop.
The Russian also started to feel self conscious, and that was less pleasant. He had literally cryed his heart out, surely Otabek hadn't missed the scene, he was drained and it had to be quite late too. There was no way he wasn't actually looking like shit.
“Well yes... I'm tired” he managed.
“Did you eat?”
“Yes”
“Go to sleep then”
That last statement made Yuri feel not only ugly, but also very stupid. “I forgot the key” he had to confess, almost sheepshly and definitely blushing.
He wasn't able to understand why the older boy's opinion mattered so much, after all they barely knew each other, yet he could no longer hold Otabek's piercing gaze and had to look away. Even so the Kazakh was unfazed, he got back on his feet and for a moment the blond thought, with a bit of disappointment, that their conversation was simply over.
Before Yuri had the chance to sort out his own feelings Otabek offered him his hand again, this time in a chivalrous gesture meant to help Yuri stand. And just as the first time, Yuri took that hand without any question while his heart started beating a bit too fast.
Otabek led them both to the elevators and when they reached the right floor he guided the younger boy through the corridor. Yuri let him, confused and a bit flustered, but entirely trusting, until they reached a woodden door promptly opened by Otabek.
“Please, come in” said the dark haired boy. With just a small esitation Yuri entered the room. It was basically identical to his own, just a lot less messy. Suddently he didn't know what to do with himself.
Sensing his discomfort Otabek gently led him to the bed with an hand on the small of the blond's back.
“Here”, he said, and this time Yuri blushed furiously, too astonished to simply do as he was told.
“What... why?”
“Lay down for a few minutes while you wait for your coach, then you can call him and get your key” Otabek said as a matter of fact, as if absolutely nothing extraordinary was going on, and Yuri started to relax again. The idea grew on him instantly, it wasn't bad at all and much much better than waiting for Yakov in the cold hall, where everybody could spot him, and god forbid, try to talk to him.
That soft, warm bed was far too tempting and he was almost ready to give back his golden medal for a long night of sleep. The boy was also perfectly aware that the moment he'd reach the bed, he'd fall asleep. Otabek had to know it too, yed he had offered his bed anyway. Yuri didn't know exactly what to make of that notion, so he lied, mostly to himself “ok, just five minutes”.
And indeed, the moment his head touched the pillow, Yuri felt a pleasant slumber invading his body and keeping his eyes open became a very difficult task. Suddently he felt too good to really feel awkward about the sitatuation that was, at the very least, unusual.
Otabek too, seemed satisfied with the answer Yuri gave him and without a word he took off his jacket and went to retrieve an extra blanket from a small wardrobe in front of the bed. When he turned back his young friend had kicked away his shoes and was lying on the bedspread, looking at him, but only barely conscious.
The Kazakh turned off the main light and left on only a small lamp on the night stand, than came closer to the bed to give Yuri the blanket.
The younger boy gently grabbed his sleeve instead. Everything came so natural and easy when Otabek was around, that Yuri for once found himself simply following his instinct, without a second thought, as if the walls behind which he usually hid himself never existed.
“Stay” he said, not entirely realizing the implications of what he was asking for, then closed his eyes again.
This time it was Otabek's heart to beat faster. He hadn't expected such a request from his new friend, yet he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. He just wasn't sure that Yuri was aware enough to know what he had just said, it was probably quite the contrary. He didn't want to embarass the younger skater, or cross some line or make him feel uncomfortable the moment he'd wake up. Yet it was such an innocent and sweet request. The Kazakh didn't know Yuri that well yet, but it wasn't that far fetched to think that maybe the boy craved human contact much more than he allowed himself to admit.
He knew the feeling after all, Otabek wasn't much better at asking for other people comfort, to the point he often convinced himself he could do without. Yuri was worn out, at the end of a very intense and important day, it was just likely that he'd let his guard down enough to ask for a bit of company, maybe. Or warmth. Or simple human touch.
The older boy sat on the edge of the bed for a short while, thinking. To deny Yuri felt a bit cruel, but he needed to be extra sure.
“I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay on the couch”, that had been his original plan anyway, and indeed there was a couch just a few steps away from the bed, but Yuri tossed it a quick glance and decided it looked ugly and unconfortable and more importantly, not close enough.
Part of his brain was warning him, though. He was being stupid, again, his request was unreasonable and he was bound to feel deeply embarassed in the morning, but right now he couldn't give a damn, not since the mere fact of having Otabek sit on the same bed was giving him a whole lot of nice sensations. And after all that was Otabek's room, it wasn't fair to sentence him to a night on that nasty couch.
“I don't like it. Stay here.”
To make his point even clearer Yuri made room for the other boy moving further toward the edge of the mattress. Anyway the bed was quite big and Yuri's body was small, they would fit perfectly.
Otabek vaguely thought he could point out that the way the couch looked like didn't really matter, but since Yuri still hadn't let go of his sleeve, and apparently wasn't going to until he obtained what he wanted, he took his decision.
“You're bossy, you know?” The Kazakh teased to lighten the mood. Yuri opened his green eyes to glare at him, but considering how Otabek was finally granting him his wish he didn't reply.
“It's just for a few minutes anyway, right?” The blonde said instead, and finally let go of the other boy's sleeve. Yuri then closed his eyes for good, surrending to the sleep and unwilling to think. Depp down he knew that if he stopped to analize what was going on he'd probably just panick.
Otabek didn't answer the question, it was rethorical anyway, instead buried them both under the blanket, and that was when he too realized the total awkwardness of that strange night. He laid perfectly still for a while, on the very edge of the bed, staring at the celing and thinking about how he just couldn't fully regret putting himself in that situation, even if it was weird. He simultaneusly asked himself how strange it was that he felt no regrets at all, but couldn't find any answer.
Then, after a few minutes, Yuri curled against his body, deeply asleep, looking totally at ease, distracting the Kazakh from his thoughts. Just a few strands of blond hair were visible from underneath the cover and Otabek knew right away that he could never wake the other skater up after a short nap to make him call his coach, even if that had truly been his initial intention.
The dark haired boy finally relaxed, he too was sleepy and worn out and overthinking things had never been his style. He turned on his side, so that Yuri could bury his face in his chest, and wrapped his arms around the blond's lithe body just because he felt like it, then finally closed his eyes without any second thoughts.
They could both spend the next day feeling deeply embarrassed, asking themselves all the due uneasy questions, or avoiding each other eyes and pretending nothing ever happened. For the moment, though, everything was perfect and Yuri and Otabek where right where they wanted to be.