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The conversation didn’t come up for a while again. Not that Otabek’s mind wasn’t still reeling. But of course Yuri Plisetsky would drop a bombshell like that then act like it didn't even happen the next day. Otabek knew his time in Saint Petersburg was coming to an end; he’d been here almost a month. There was still a bit of dark exhaustion that sometimes crept into his mind and muscles some days, but there were things piling up back in Almaty that he couldn’t go on ignoring. And he really really needed to do something about his knee. The stretches were helping, but any prolonged exercises set it off again. He didn’t want to think about it, but he was going to have to, especially since one of the first questions out of Tair or Gennadiy’s mouths was ‘how’s your knee?’ There were some days he couldn’t avoid the question, especially not when they asked his mom to intervene.  

But today had been good; he had picked Yuri up from the rink and they’d gone out for dinner. It was Yuri’s off day tomorrow, so he allowed himself to stay out later than usual. They had eaten at a tiny vegan cafe then walked around the city until Otabek’s ears and nose turned numb and he couldn’t move his mouth properly. Even Yuri seemed exhausted when they finally got back to the apartment, and that was a rare thing in itself, but he’d been going all out in preparation for the Coupe du Printemps on March eighth. Lilia was due back a week after Yuri’s birthday, but Otabek couldn’t justify staying for much longer.

Yuri had been a much needed escape, almost a shield from all the shit that had happened in Almaty. He honestly didn’t deserve him; he helped so much and asked for nothing in return. No amount of expensive dates or gifts would be enough. Sighing softly, he stretched out on his back, folding his arms behind his head.

“Do you want to do anything for your birthday?” he asked as Yuri cuddled up next to him, nuzzling against his chest after what must have been twenty minutes of brushing his hair. His hair was still damp in a long braid down his back, but his smell was comforting.

Yuri blinked. “I dunno. Mila wants to go to the club again. And I think Viktor wanted to have a dinner with everyone.”

Otabek hummed, smoothing a few golden hairs from his temples. “But what do you want to do?”

Yuri seemed to be more interested in his Instagram than answering the question. “Uh, I don’t care.”

“You’re going to be twenty.”

He screwed up his face, scowling at the screen. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I sound so fucking old.”

Otabek scoffed. “Yeah, you’re ancient.” Yuri elbowed him. “Would you want to do something with just the two of us?”

He put down his phone. “Like?”

“I could take you out somewhere fancy and,” he swallowed, “and when we get back home-”

“Birthday sex?” Yuri asked dryly, rolling away and stretching his arms over his head. Otabek waited for him to settle down with his arms folded behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling and his chest rose and fell with a sharp sigh. “Sure.”

Otabek breathed out heavily through his nose, watching as Yuri’s shirt rode up his stomach to reveal a pale strip of skin pulled tight over defined abdominal muscles and a slender waist. It wasn’t like the thin, almost see-through, t-shirt and black boxer briefs he wore to bed left much to the imagination. Despite all his moaning and groaning about being too skinny,Yuri did have an amazing body. Otabek couldn’t look away from the tight muscles of his legs relaxing to gentle curves as he lay flat. Taking a short breath, Otabek bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself.

“I wanted to talk to you about…” he shook his head, rolling onto his side and scratching at a leopard spot on the bed sheet. “You remember when… you asked me to, uh, knot you?”

Yuri’s face and ears turned red instantly, eyes widening to saucers before he could control his expression. “Oh, that.” He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Otabek knew he was fighting to stay calm. He crossed his ankles, one foot bouncing nervously.

“Yes, that-”

“I, uh. It was just… I dunno I was just swept up in things. You don’t have to… yeah.” The bouncing quickened and the rest of him was suddenly way too still.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Otabek said slowly. Yuri bit his lip, blush spreading down his neck. “Were you serious when you asked that? Are you really thinking about it?”

He swallowed, worrying his bottom lip before his mouth formed a few soundless words. “I… dunno.”

“It’s okay if you changed your mind.” He back peddled just in case. “I’m not pressuring you or anything, I just want to know.”

Yuri covered his face with his hands, groaning softly. “I… fuck.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face. “I dunno. I just… that kind of just came out and… fuck. Beka, I…”

Gently trailing a finger along Yuri’s jaw, Otabek tried to bite back a grin. His face was hot to the touch and getting redder by the second. “Hey, you can take your time. What are you trying to say?”

Yuri took a deep shuddering breath, peeking through his fingers. “I… I kinda want it.”

“Kinda?”

He swallowed again, before sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. “I dunno. When we were… you know. I just really wanted you to.”

Otabek nodded, trailing the back of his hand up and down a stubbly calf a few times before massaging the bony ankle. “And now that you’re thinking with a clear head?” The question had a small, grey bubble growing in his chest. He had wanted to knot him so badly in the moment. It was a good thing that he didn’t if Yuri was having second thoughts now. But the fact that he was having second thoughts had Otabek’s chest tightening. It was okay if he wasn’t ready. He knew he had to be patient with Yuri’s inexperience and his sexual orientation. It was asking more than enough that he even had sex with him in the first place, right? Things had been going too well, there was bound to be a hitch somewhere. Fuck, had he fucked up by bringing it up? Should he have waited for Yuri to have said-

“Are you listening to me?” Yuri flicked the side of his head, an eyebrow raised.

“Uh.” He blinked, swallowing against the sudden icepick in his stomach.

Yuri rolled his eyes and  threaded his fingers in the long hair at the top of Otabek’s head. Slender fingers were pinpoints of comfort against Otabek’s scalp. “I said, I still want it.” He took a deep breath. “But that’s kind of a big step isn’t it?”

Oh. He let out a deep breath. “It is. So we should… talk about it.”

Yuri nodded. “I just… I don’t know.”

Otabek focused on the protruding bone on his ankle before gingerly circling a yellow bruise on the side of his foot.  “You don’t know what?”

Yuri curled his toes, twitching as Otabek traced a line along the arch of his foot. “Anything.”

Zhanym-

“I really don’t. You fucking gave me my first blow job like last week - I mean I want to but. I don’t know.”

Otabek swallowed. “That’s okay, Yura. You’ve never done this before. I understand-“

“Have you?”

The question was so quick and curt Otabek didn’t follow immediately. “Huh?”

Yuri took a deep breath, batting his hand away from his foot. “Have you knotted anyone before?”

Otabek’s mouth dropped open and all that came out was a stuttering mess of words. “Does it matter to you if I did?” he eventually managed.

Yuri folded his arms across his knees and hid his face in them. “I… yes.”

He winced, screwing his eyes shut. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, really ?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Fuck. “Yura, I’m sorry I-”

“No, don’t apologise. It’s just, I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, curling up tighter. “What did it feel like?”

“Um…” he blinked a few times, frowning. “You’re not mad that I…”

Yuri shook his head, slowly raising it from his arms. “Why would I be mad?”

“I… don’t know.” Because he’d done so much before they’d even met? Because sex made Yuri uncomfortable sometimes? Because he was kind of a shitty person and the more Yuri learnt about the more he should hate him for it?

Yuri bit his lip. “I kind of expected it, to be honest.”

Otabek’s face heated and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Oh, Allah. Expected it?”

“I mean it’s good right. You know what to do then,” he turned tomato red and his words sped up almost into one jumble. “It doesn’t have to be a learning experience then.”

He took a deep breath. “It should still be a learning experience.”

Yuri shrugged. “I feel better that at least one of us knows what the fuck’s going on. I heard it hurts so, I… um…”

Otabek swallowed. It would hurt a bit for him, there would be not getting around that, unless he was in heat. But that was a different thing all together. He cleared his throat, shaking the thought from his head and focused on his extremely nervous boyfriend. “Uh, I, it doesn’t have to hurt a lot, if we go slowly and be careful.”

Yuri snorted. “Right. I’ve seen your knot before. There’s no way that’s gonna fit inside me - uh,” he suddenly looked away.

Otabek bit his lip, unable to stop the grin from the pride of Yuri calling him big. He ran his index finger along Yuri’s shin. He was adorable; honestly so very innocent in a strange way. Yuri was a force like a cyclone, but then sometimes he was so soft and small. He wouldn’t be coddled no matter what, though. He’d never be coddled. “You do realise your body can handle pushing out a baby.”

Yuri looked at him like he’d just cursed his entire family and insulted his ancestors. “Fuck off.”

Otabek chuckled, happiness coming from deep within his stomach. He rolled onto his back, shoulder pressing against Yuri’s hip, and stared at the ceiling. “You still have a chance to decide, Yura. But if you do want me to knot you, I’d rather we make it a very special night.”

Yuri was silent for a short while before huffing. “Okay, so it won’t just be birthday sex. God, and you don’t have to treat me like I’m some sort of dumb princess”

“You’re my princess. Prince.”

“Shut up.” He lay down next to him, rolling into his side and setting an arm across Otabek’s chest. Otabek knew he was looking up at him, he could almost feel the heat from his stare. He closed his eyes, relishing in the light, giddy feeling that spiralled out from his chest. Even his toes were tingling. He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist, smoothing his palm along the curve of his hip and down to his thigh.

“So we’re really going to do this?” Yuri asked softly.

“If you want,” he mumbled. “If you start second guessing tell me. The moment you say stop, we stop.”

He hummed, nuzzling closer against a Otabek’s side. “I heard it’s supposed to be really emotional and shit.”

Emotional and shit. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. It can be a bit overwhelming actually.”

“How?”

“Um.” He didn’t really know how to put it into words. “It’s different for everyone. But I dunno, when you’re like physically connected to a person that way. It’s, uh, intense.”  

“Who was it that you knotted before?”

“Yura..”

“What? Is it private?”

He swallowed. “Not really. But why do you want to talk about my ex?”

Yuri rose onto his elbows, rage flashing across his face so suddenly panic seized Otabek’s throat. “If you tell you me you knotted Assyl, I swear, Otabek Altin, I will-”

“No. It wasn’t him.” How glad he was it wasn’t. Yuri deflated with an angry huff, going back to aggressively cuddling his side.

“Good.”

His insides withered a bit. “It was when I was still in America. This omega, Caleb. We were dating for almost a year, and I had really liked him.”

“Oh. What happened. Why’d you break up?”

He should have expected all the questions. It wasn’t a sore topic, but still very awkward to discuss with his current boyfriend. He stroked Yuri’s hair, searching for comfort in the sweet smell of his Japanese rice milk shampoo. “It just didn’t work out in the end, I guess.” And he was also only seventeen at the time. He thought he had known everything then, confident that Caleb was the one. It was funny how the older he got the more he realised he really didn’t know anything.

“Oh.” Yuri swallowed, throat bobbing against Otabek’s chest. “That sucks.”

“I don’t care about it now,” he sighed. “I have you.”

Yuri squeezed his waist. They were silent for a few minutes. Otabek mentally prepared himself for more questions, but Yuri seemed satisfied.

“Movies until we pass out?” he asked, already rolling over for his laptop.

Otabek shrugged. “Sure.”

The conversation ended with that; Otabek  was still not completely sure if they should go through with it or if they needed to talk about it more. He wanted it, he wanted it so badly, just the thought alone made him short of breath and his stomach tighten with heat.

Yuri, though, ended up snoring ten minutes into the first movie, a testament to just how tired he was, but had refused to admit it. He didn’t normally snore, Otabek realised it only happened when he was flat out exhausted. He didn’t even wake up when Otabek gently rolled him off of his chest to set the computer in the floor, or when Potya jumped onto his stomach before making herself a bed on his pillow. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, slightly curled on his side. It was baffling how someone could look so delicate, so pale and thin that the wind could blow him away, and yet be so strong. Physically and mentally. Yuri had three quads now and the stubbornness to aim for the forth while taking part in a ballet workshop. He didn’t know how he did it.  Otabek snapped a few pictures, smiling. He couldn’t post these, but they’d go in the album he had of candid Yuri pictures. He felt like he couldn’t even breathe every time he looked at them, like his chest was collapsing while his stomach dissolved into butterflies.

Reaching out, he gently ran his knuckles along Yuri’s cheek. That was enough to wake him and he batted at Otabek’s hand, wiggling under the covers mumbling gibberish under his breath. Potya settled on top of his head when he finished, curling around him on the pillow. She blinked at Otabek a few times before softly purring and burying her face into Yuri’s hair. He stroked her a few times, smiling as her purring got louder, before getting up to finish getting ready for bed.

 

“Morning, Ma,” Otabek said, juggling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he scooped out a bit of canned tuna into Potya’s bowl. Yuri said he could give her some, a very tiny bit, if he used it. Potya had come skidding into the kitchen her eyes wide and ears perked up as soon as he opened the can.

“Good morning, zhanym, ” she replied, a tinge of worry in her voice. “Is everything alright?”

Glancing at the wall clock, he nodded and turned the phone on speaker, setting it down on the counter. It was barely seven thirty, much earlier than he’d ever called her before. But he’d gotten up when Yuri hd left and couldn’t get back to sleep. He’d done his exercises and showered, and was feeling good enough that he had made plans for lunch with Yuri. “Yes, Ma. I was just up.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Just making breakfast.”

She laughed softly. “What are you making?”

He shrugged. “Eggs and tuna.”

“Together?”

“Not together. Why would I do that?”

She laughed again. “Oi zhyndy . Your father and I went out for breakfast today. The doctor said oatmeal is good for cholesterol, but getting him to eat it. You would think we were forcing him to eat grass.”

Otabek chuckled. “So what did he eat?”

“He got fruit and an omelette.”

Yeah that sounded right. His dad wasn’t the healthiest eater; he had a terrible sweet tooth and would sometimes pick out the vegetables from his meals. Ma was forever nagging him about it. Maybe he could convince him to start exercising when he got back. They could start with walks in the morning or he could copy some of his physio exercises. The thought alone made him smile, looking down at Potya who was patiently licking her lips. His mother would praise him to the moon and back if he got his dad to exercise.

Zhanym ?”

“Hmmm?” he blinked, turning his attention back to the phone.

“I asked how was Yuri.”

“His birthday is coming up. On the first.”

“How lovely. How old will he be? Twenty-three, four?”

“Twenty.”

“Oh, he’s that much younger than you? I thought he competed-“

“He was the youngest in our bracket for a while.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s just that good.”  He smiled, watching Potya wind around his legs, starting to meow loudly for her snack. “Okay, Princess, here you go.”

He set her bowl on her mat in the corner and she leapt at it like Yuri hadn’t given her breakfast an hour ago.

“Who’s that?”

“Just the cat, Ma. I gave her a snack.”

She chuckled. “You and that cat. All these years and I had no idea you liked animals so much.”

“I’ve always liked animals. It’s just that they’re messy.”

She huffed. “Cats are clean, zhanym .”

He raised an eyebrow. “They bathe themselves in their own saliva.”

“Beka-“

“But I like Potya. She’s uh… She helps me to clear my head when… yeah.”

“Oh? Maybe you should get one when you come home.”

“Maybe.”

There was a short pause. “When are you coming home?”

“I…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I think after Yuri’s birthday.”

“Are you feeling better?” The phrasing was soft and careful. “Don’t push yourself too hard, if you need more time to rest then-“

He stared down into the can of tuna. “I’m okay, Ma.” Almost okay, but getting there.

“Are you sure?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m sure .”

“Don’t use that voice with me, Otabek.”

“Sorry.”

“We only care about you. But if you think you’re ready to come back I’m happy.” A smile stretched his face. “We’ll have to celebrate. A nice dinner-”

And there she went. “Ma, no.” He threw the empty tuna can into the garbage, and washed his hands. “I don’t want anything like that.”

“Beka-”

“No, Ma. I’m just, I’m just coming home, okay. It’s nothing special. I just want it to be… normal.”

She was silent for a few moments. “Alright, if that’s what you want.”

He breathed out heavily through his nose. “Yes. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Let us know when you choose a flight.”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Oh, and you’ll never believe who I saw at my class today. You remember Fatima Diasova? You went to school together.” He didn’t remember anyone by that name, but his mother went on without pause. “Would you believe she got married last month? To a Garriev boy, she was telling me all about the wedding.”

Otabek chuckled, turning up the volume on his phone so he could start to prepare his eggs. His mother talked until he had finished eating, suddenly remembering she was supposed to meet one of her friends for lunch.

“Oh and I still have to send the plans over to Mr. Olzhasev-”

“Plans?”

“He’s building a new office, it’s in Astana, but - Oh, stop distracting me. I love you, darling, but I really need to go now. Remember to tell me about your flight.”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Yes Ma, yes Ma,” she mimicked. “Have a good day, zhanym , go outside. I love you.”

“Love you, Ma,” he said before hanging up. He couldn’t help but chuckle, looking down at Potya who was grooming herself at his feet. “She’s insane isn’t she?”

It was weird how someone’s meaningless chatter could put him in a good mood. Well, he supposed Yuri was the same. The boy could talk non-stop when he was ready. He was almost as bad as his mom. But Otabek would never tell either of them to stop.

The next week passed in a whirlwind. Just watching Yuri flit between training and ballet made Otabek exhausted. Although, all things considered, his schedule was just as packed between training, DJ gigs, and physio. It just seemed like Yuri did so much more. He only realised he’d been staring at the black television screen for nearly ten minutes when Potya began to lick the water droplets from his ice pack. He jerked, startling her enough to dart away like a bullet.

“Sorry, Princess.” He bent over, reaching under the coffee table. His knee was pretty much numb now, he set the ice pack on the carpet by his foot. Potya slowly came over to investigate. He ran his fingers along her spine, her tail curling around his wrist. “Didn’t see you come in.” He sighed.

Maybe he’d gone a little too hard at the gym. Also, maybe he’d gone too long hoping his knee would fix itself. Tair was going to murder him.

“Going home is gonna suck,” he mumbled. Potya headbutted his leg. “I’m not gonna be able to get on the ice for a while, I bet.”  He slumped against the couch, picking up his phone. “Ma’s going to be happy at least.”

With a heavy sigh he got up, and headed to the bedroom for Yuri’s laptop with a cold stone at the bottom of his stomach.

 

“I booked a flight home.” It came out as soon as Yuri sat down at the kitchen island with his plate. First surprise, followed closely by sadness covered his face. He stared down at his grilled chicken. Otabek’s stomach gurgled, of course he would have been sad. “I can’t stay here forever, Yura.”

“I know you can’t stay,” he snapped. “I just… I didn’t think you’d leave so soon.”

“I’ve been here for like a month.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” He stabbed the chicken with his fork.

Really? “I need to see about my knee.” Amongst other things.

“It’s not getting better?”

“Not really.” Not enough to get back on the ice for sure.

“Fuck.”

“I leave the day before you go to Luxembourg.”

Yuri sighed heavily. “That makes sense, I guess.”

Slowly, Otabek got up from his stool and went to stand behind Yuri. He hugged him tightly, hooking his chin over his shoulder. He could feel each muscle and a few bones shift as Yuri moved. “I’m going to miss you so much.” He felt him swallow.

“I know you have to go back,” he mumbled. “I can’t keep you here like a prisoner. It’s gonna be so weird, though.”

“Weird?”

“Got used to you being here when I get home.” He leaned back against him. “Are you, uh, are you feeling well enough to-”

“Even if I’m not, I have to go.”

“That’s not the answer to my question. Are you feeling any better?”

Otabek shrugged. “Yes, better. Definitely better than when I first got here.”

“But not back to good?”

Not back to good. There was too much to do before that could ever happen. “I think I just need to get back on the ice.”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah.”

Otabek spun his stool around. For once taller than him, he look down into sad, green eyes before Yuri looked away. He  hooked a finger under Yuri’s jaw and gently tilted his face upwards. He placed his lips to his forehead, lingering with his nose in soft, baby hairs.

“You’re not keeping me prisoner.” He drew back after a short while, running his thumb along Yuri’s jaw.

“Huh?”

“I came here of my own will, and I got to spend time with my incredibly beautiful boyfriend.” He cupped his face with both palms, smoothing his hair behind his ears.

Yuri’s cheeks turned pink and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Otabek chuckled, slowly bending his neck and gingerly pressing his lips to Yuri’s. Yuri wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing back just as softly. There was no way he’d be able to tell him, just how much he’d done for him, how much he’d helped, out loud. It was funny that just being around him made Otabek feel calm and content. He didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t, but he had to.

Yuri’s cheek was baby soft and warm under his fingers, and his nails were blunt against the back of his neck and scalp. He let a hand fall from Yuri’s face to his face to his waist, slowly deepening the kiss. Yuri followed along, sighing softly in encouragement. With his stomach tightening in heat and a fire roaring in his chest; he couldn’t thank him aloud, but he could try to show him. He urged Yuri to his feet, having to pause the kiss as the angle changed. Yuri had to have grown more since he’d first come; he just realised how much he was bending to meet him. It would have been a turn-off, his omega being taller than him; he’d always gone for small omegas, tiny things that fit in his arms and under his chin, in the past. But Yuri was so different, so perfect. And to be fair he had started out smaller than him, and who would have ever guessed that he would have such a massive growth spurt.

Still, he dropped his arms to Yuri’s thighs, dipping before pulling him off the ground and into his arms. Yuri wrapped his long, long legs around his waist, smiling into the kiss as a soft giggle bubbled past his lips. He brought him to the couch, laying him along the seat before crawling over him. His pants were tight now, and tight heat was rolling in waves from his gut. It was even a struggle to breathe now, his breath coming in short pants, his lips beginning to feel swollen. Yuri’s face was red, blushing up to his ears and down his chest.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled, kissing a line across Yuri’s jaw then down his neck.

“Beka,” Yuri murmured, fingers digging into his biceps.

He shivered, when Otabek pulled his shirt up to his chest, running his palms along his sides. There wasn’t a single part of Yuri that wasn’t perfect. He pressed his lips to the centre of his chest, and breathed in deeply. Yuri’s natural scent was always so light almost barely there, something slightly sweet and clean. He rubbed circles into Yuri’s hips and thighs, spreading his legs apart and settling between them. His knee throbbed at the sudden and extreme bending, but he ignored it, hooking Yuri’s thighs around his hips. Yuri was chewing his lip, eyes wide and his hands had stilled, clutching Otabek’s shoulders with almost all of his strength.

His stomach tightened, twisting around a ball of fire. He pulled Yuri closer, right up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around his waist. The pressure of Yuri’s ass against his throbbing cock could only be described as heavenly. He ground up into him, Yuri jolting slightly a soft soft gasp barrelled from his mouth.

“Bek…”

Otabek dipped his head back down, kissing down his sternum, slowly making his way down the long line of his abs. He smoothed his hand along his sides, curling his fingers around that slender waist, and hard muscles. He circled his hip bones, nipping at the skin above his navel, tongue circling the tiny indent. Yuri shuddered and Otabek grinned, pressing his nose flat against Yuri’s stomach. His hands went under Yuri’s shorts, massaging his ass, grabbing handfuls and squeezing. Fuck, he was just so perfect. Breathing was getting harder, his chest was heaving, but everything in his body was like fire. Even his skin was tingling, every inch from his scalp to his cock.

“Beka,” Yuri swallowed heavily, hands like vices on Otabek’s shoulders. Otabek pressed his mouth to the skin below his navel, easing his pants down slowly. Yuri squirmed and the friction against Otabek’s cock made him hiss.

“Beka?” He said a bit louder, a slight tremble in his voice. “No.”

Otabek’s head snapped up and something curled and withered to dust in his stomach. He let go of Yuri’s sides. Slowly, backing away. Like that, everything had gone cold. Fuck, what went wrong? What did he do? He tried to take a few calming breaths, but they all caught in his throat. Fuck.

Yuri’s chest was heaving, and he was biting his lip, nervous. He pulled his pants back up, pressing himself against the far armrest and hung his head, rubbing his temples. Otabek wanted to punch himself. He’d messed things up again. He swallowed, but even that caught in his throat as well.

“Yura?” Otabek ventured, eventually. “What’s wrong?”

Yuri shook his head. “I… just. I dunno. You said you were leaving just a minute ago. I don’t really… I can’t…” he shook his head again. “I don’t want sex right now. Sorry.”

Otabek took a deep breath, standing. “That’s alright.” It came out like a rush of air. He scratched the back of his neck, before running a hand through his hair. Okay. Fuck. He’d definitely messed things up. “It’s okay.”

He watched Yuri wrap his arms around his knees, cheeks still red. “Sorry, I’m just not…”

“It’s okay,” he repeated, coughing to clear his throat. Just fuck.

“Bek-“

“It’s fine.” Shit. He should have known something was off. He should have been able to tell. Yuri was fucking asexual; he should have at least noticed something. Fuck. So what about all the other times? Was he faking it? Forcing himself to go on? Otabek’s insides twisted. Fuck. He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs refused.  “Are you okay? Did I, uh…”

“Did you… what?”

He shook his head. “No, uh, sorry.”

Yuri chewed his lip. “We can… maybe later.”

“It’s fine.” He could hear the lie in his voice and wondered if it was that obvious to Yuri. “Don’t even worry about it. You don’t want it, then you don’t want it.”

Yuri sighed heavily. “Okay.” He stood up, moving stiffly both looking like he wanted to run away and to hug him. But in the end he just went back to the kitchen island and his now cold dinner. A heavy silence fell like a wet blanket.

“We can watch a movie or-“

Otabek shook his head. “Actually, I didn’t do my exercises yet. I mean, I should probably like head to the gym or something.”

“Oh,” Yuri blinked, chewing his lip again. “Yeah. You should do that then.”

Nodding, he quickly went to change. When he left the apartment, Yuri was curled up on the couch with his phone, and his dinner was still untouched in the kitchen.

Working out until he could barely move helped. It helped when he was too tired to think. Pull ups cleared his head. Crunches and sit ups, made him take a few steps back from his problems.

Yuri was asexual. That was a fact he knew very well. It had all been going too well. And to put himself in Yuri’s mind, the mind of a perfectionist, someone who obsessed over details and had a single track mind for anything important. Otabek breathed out deeply, picking up a pair of dumbbells and headed over to a bench. Yuri was hung up on the fact that he was leaving. That was all there was to it. It was better that he had said no, than just letting him have his way. Oh Allah, he hopped that had never happened before. Fuck, he needed to be better.

He stumbled back to the apartment, nearly two hours later with his knee throbbing. But he’d managed to convince himself not to feel like a complete asshole, for nearly forcing his asexual boyfriend to have sex with him. Yuri wasn’t in the living room anymore, but his bedroom door was cracked open and the light was on. It was late, he glanced at his phone. Nearly eleven, and if Yuri had to be up at five again tomorrow, he really should have been sleeping already. Otabek went to the bathroom first.

Yuri was still awake, but struggling. He mumbled something indecipherable when Otabek came into the bedroom, and sleepily watched him pull on a pair of underwear and a shirt. Otabek hated that he had to sit down to put on his underwear and when he briefly examined his knee it did look a bit swollen and red.

Yuri mumbled something again, and when Otabek turned around he was holding up the blankets for him, his eyes half shut. A small smile broke out on his face, watching Yuri in a near comma. He slipped under the covers and Yuri attached himself to his side, wrapping around him like a boa constrictor. Otabek hugged him back, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You okay, Yuriyim?”

He nodded, mumbling something again.

“What was that?”

Yuri frowned, screwing up his face in an effort to stay awake. “I’m gonna miss you.” His words were still slurred.

Otabek kissed his forehead. “I know. I wish we could live together all the time, forever.”

“But you have to go back. You should.”

Otabek nodded. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “We still have like almost two weeks, though.”

Yuri nodded and was silent for so long Otabek had thought he’d fallen asleep. But as he rolled over to turn off the bedside lamp, Yuri’s arms tightened around his waist.

“I’m glad you’re going back.” His words were so slurred they were nearly impossible to understand.

“Pardon?”

“I’m glad. I want you to feel better and get back on the ice. I want you to compete,” he yawned. “But I don’t want you to leave.”

Otabek smiled, rubbing slow, large circles against Yuri’s back. “I know, zhanym .” His lungs trembled with each breath. But the coldness from before was all but gone. Not seeing Yuri every day was going to hurt like hell, but once he got his life back together maybe he’d be able to face him without all the guilt. Yuri deserved that, he deserved the best from him. And in time, they could probably end up living together again.

Chapter Text

Otabek could tell that trouble was brewing the second he entered Yuri’s bedroom. His clothes were everywhere, and he was sitting on the edge of his bed, in a towel, scowling at his mat as he stroked Potya. His hair was dripping down his back, and goosebumps covered his arms; he’d been there for a while. Otabek paused for a second in the doorway. Yuri had seemed annoyed when he had gotten home, and had spent much longer than normal in the shower. Had something happened at the rink? Did Mila cancel? The thought was appealing, honestly; he was more than ready to trade his jeans for sweatpants and call it a night. But it was Yuri’s birthday party, one of many but still, so he had to suck it up and go. After finding out what was wrong with his boyfriend first, though. He sighed softly, picking his way through discarded leggings, leotards, T-shirts, and the contents of an upended gym bag. 

“Yura?” Otabek sat down next to him, and Potya moved to his lap, purring. Yuri turned his scowl on him. “You okay?” 

“I don’t wanna go,” he spat. 

“Hmmm?”

“To the club. Mila picked one that I hate, and all her friends are coming, and they’re bringing more people, and she invited the hockey players when we left the rink today.”

Oh. Well he definitely didn’t want to go now. “Too many people?” 

“It’s not even that. She didn’t even ask if I was okay with it. Like, I don’t even know half the people who are supposed to be coming with us. It’s gonna be so weird.”

He hummed, wondering if he could get Yuri to stay home without actually saying anything. “Have you told her?” 

“No. She planned the whole thing; she got us a private room and everything. What the fuck am I supposed to say?”

Valid point. Fuck. “So, what do you wanna do?” 

Yuri gumbled, flopping against Otabek’s shoulder. “I have to go.” 

Otabek kissed his forehead, hugging him with one arm. “Once you have a few drinks it’s not going to seem so bad.” It was probably bad advice, but there was truth to it. He was already planning on drinking enough to make the night bearable. 

“I’m not wearing heels either.” 

Chuckling, he kissed him again. “You can wear whatever you want.” 

Yuri sighed. “If we really don’t have a good time-”

“We’ll leave.” He squeezed his shoulder. “I can say I’m not feeling well.” 

Yuri blinked. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t the worst excuse he’d come up with. Sometimes he didn’t even bother with being polite. And this time it wasn’t really a lie. “Just tell me when you’ve had enough.” 

He almost jumped when he felt fingers on the underside of his jaw, but Yuri was guiding his face towards his. Otabek held his breath, almost afraid this his breathing would scare Yuri off. The kiss was soft and slow, but Otabek was jumping up and down inside because Yuri had, out of the blue, initiated it. It was just a kiss, small steps, but it really meant so much all the same. They both knew where things might end up tonight if it all went well at the club. That’s what the plan was anyway, they’d go out then come back and have an even better time in bed. Right. Except today already wasn’t going well. Still, Otabek was smiling when they parted. Yuri ran his thumb along his jaw, a small smile toying on his lips as well. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as bad if he got to stare at Yuri’s face the entire time. 

“Is this a new look?” Yuri asked, rubbing tiny circles along the edge of his jaw. “Going all stubbly? It makes you look older.” 

He brought a hand to his jaw, rubbing at the sandpaper hairs. “A good kind of older or?”

“Yeah. Like a sexy movie star or some shit.”

Otabek scoffed. “I was going to shave, but someone was taking forever in the bathroom.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “It’s all part of my master plan.”

“What? Your plan for making me grow a beard?” 

He snorted, standing up. “I don’t think I’d like you with a beard.” 

Yuri finished getting ready right as Mila called to ask where they were. True to his word, Yuri hadn’t really dressed up. He wasn’t really wearing makeup, and he’d pulled his hair up into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, with a few strands hanging around his face. They were actually dressed pretty similar with plain t-shirts under blazers and jeans. Except Yuri’s metallic, platform sneakers were something he’d never imagine wearing. He’d actually done a double take when Yuri had come out of his room. He was so used to him in dresses or shorts and skirts when they went out, it was almost like he’d forgotten he was also a guy. He was still unbelievably hot though. 

“Are you copying me?” he asked playfully, standing from the couch.

Yuri raised an eyebrow, staring Otabek up and down. “Fuck. I didn’t realise you were wearing a v-neck too.” 

“It’s okay, we can match,” Otabek chuckled. 

He scowled, holding up a finger. “Fuck that, I’m changing.” He came back out in a dark red button-up, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. 

“Still hot,” Otabek observed.

“Shut up.” 

Mila also did a double take when she met them outside the club and Yuri rolled his eyes so hard, Otabek felt it. He leaned against Otabek’s shoulder, his shoes giving him enough height to comfortably use him as an armrest. 

“What?” He snapped. 

Thankfully Mila had enough common sense and social intelligence to just smile. “You look hot.” 

“Huh?” Otabek knew Yuri had been ready to fight. 

“A bit skinny but, I know some girls are into the whole pretty guy thing.”

“What?” 

Otabek scoffed at the baffled look on Yuri’s face. 

“You know, like a really tall k-pop star.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Grinning, Mila tugged Yuri from Otabek’s shoulder. “I’m really liking the scruffy look.”

“Oh my God,” Yuri whined, shoving her towards the entrance. “How much have you drunk already? Is anyone else here?” 

The private room was decent, but the seats were a squeaky vinyl and one of the speakers was broken; the bass was way off. A few of Mila’s friends were already there, taking selfies with their drinks and there were a few huge, stocky guys, who he assumed were the hockey players. Yuri was scowling at everything. 

Sighing, Otabek squeezed his waist. “I’m going to the bar, you want anything?” 

Yuri shrugged, going over to a table in the corner and planting his feet, like he was about to pick a fight with one of the hockey players. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said rolling his eyes. He was sure that a private room would have come with bottle service, but it was a good idea to check the whole place out. He could tell why Yuri didn’t really like it. They stage was too small and not high enough, the dance floor was too close to the bar, and there wasn’t much room to just hang out and have a drink. The bar was nearly hidden behind the speakers making it nearly impossible for the bartenders to hear drink orders, and it was warmer than comfortable, probably something to do with how small it was. But with a crowd of this size they had to have been doing something right. It took one of the bartenders at least five minutes to even notice him and nearly twice as long to actually get his drinks. He ordered two gin and tonics, because waiting for a  fruity cocktail for Yuri wasn’t about to happen in this crowd, and made note of where the bathrooms were on his way back. He was glad for the private room; Mila had made a really good call. 

When he got back, nearly spilling the drinks more than once after people bumped into him, he was actually shocked to see Yuri with two girls standing around one of the high tables. He didn’t recognise them, but Yuri seemed comfortable enough. He slid up next to him, handing him his drink. 

Yuri wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him tight against his side. The girls looked at him with polite, inquisitive smiles. It was somehow like staring at three Yuri’s even though they looked nothing alike. 

“Uh, hey.” He gave them a small nod.  

“This is Beka,” Yuri introduced, “my boyfriend.” 

One of the girls nearly choked on a tumbler of something clear. “I still can’t believe it.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “This is Dani and Jelena. They were in Lilia’s show last year.” 

“Oh,” ballerinas. No wonder, straight backs, neat and put together. Little Lilia’s. It wasn’t that cool to generalise, but they did have an air about them that was spookily similar to how Yuri got when Lilia was around. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

They smiled at him, sizing him up and down. Otabek couldn’t tell if they were impressed or not, but they shook his hand. 

“Stella told me to tell you happy birthday.” Jelena grinned, turning back to Yuri.

Yuri’s eyes looked like they were going to drop out of his head. Otabek assumed that was the ballerina he was obsessed with. “Really?” 

“Yeah, she asked how you were doing and everything. I showed her your Instagram.” 

“Uh…” 

“Look how red he got.” 

“You know, she’s pretty cool. If you’d just talk to her.”

Yuri shook his head violently and Otabek snickered, tightening the arm around his waist. Adorable. He didn’t know why, but seeing Yuri with his own friends made some sort of warmth expand in his chest. He couldn’t understand half of what they were saying, especially when Jelena starting talking about Lilia’s show this year. Mila came to check up on Yuri a few times, bringing him drinks each time. Otabek watched him drink all of them, taking pictures as he tugged more hair out of his bun and his cheeks got redder. He sent a few pictures to Iska and the others just to prove that he had gone out. The girls had pulled him in for a few selfies and found him on Instagram without even asking him for his handle. They seemed nice, genuinely nice, and he wondered why Yuri didn’t talk about them more, or if he’d have to push him to be more friendly. Shaking his head and watching the three of them laugh at something, he was such a hypocrite. He couldn’t even get his own shit together, yet here he was worried about Yuri making and keeping friends of his own.

“You okay?” Yuri asked, suddenly turning to him. 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. 

Yuri tilted his head. “You wanna dance?” 

“When have I ever wanted to dance?” Yuri blinked a few times, his mouth falling open slightly. Otabek internally pinched himself. “I’m good, Yura. You can go have fun with your friends.” 

Thankfully Yuri was too buzzed to think and stew about it. He turned to the girls and repeated the question. They nodded, finished their drinks and headed to the main part of the club. Otabek watched them go before sinking down onto one of the empty benches. The vinyl was sticky and squeaked when he moved.  

“Hey,” Mila was at his side in seconds. The seat loudly announced her presence. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, his spine itching. Fuck he just wanted to be alone for a minute. “Just a bit tired.”

Mila squeezed his shoulder.  “Thanks for coming out, though. I know it means a lot to Yuri. Especially since you haven’t been doing so well.” 

“Yeah.” Oh Allah, please make her go away, he pleaded, grinding his teeth. 

She crossed her legs, leaning back against the wall. Fuck. “Really, though. Are you okay?” 

Otabek blinked, frowning as something cracked inside his chest. Mila had no right to be worried about him; they weren’t even that close. The question shocked him. “I… yeah. I’m getting better.”

“But not quite there yet, huh?” He wanted to laugh. Even she could tell. Was it really that obvious? “Are you talking to anyone about it?”

“Not really,” he stared at his lap. “Just Yuri. Kind of.” 

She squeezed his shoulder again. “I know we’re not that close, but if you need someone to talk to who gets it, give me a call. Anytime.”

“Huh?” He looked up at her. Her eyes were clear and earnest, bright blue even in the dim, smokey lighting. “I’m sorry,” he scrambled to say something. “I had no idea.” 

She smiled. “Yeah. I made sure of it.”  He swallowed, unsure of what to say next. “ I mean it though. Call me if you need help.” 

“Uh,” he stared at her, searching for something he didn’t even know. “Are you drunk?” 

She laughed, throwing back her head. “No!” She swatted his shoulder. “I’m not drinking tonight.” 

“Why?” He had to wince at how rude that sounded. “Uh, sor-“

She shook her head, squeezing his shoulder yet again. “Sara made me promise.” 

“Oh.”

“And it’s Yurochka’s night. I wanna keep an eye out for him.” 

He looked Mila up and down again before nodding. “I’m glad Yuri has a friend like you.” 

She seemed stunned for a second before grinning. He took a deep breath, hunching over and staring at the floor between his feet. 

“Uh, thanks.” She patted his shoulder. “And I mean it call. Don’t worry about annoying me, or even think that I’m too busy or annoyed. I know how shy you can be.” 

“I’m not shy,” he frowned. “I just don’t like… Uh… I’m not shy.” 

She laughed and Otabek scoffed quietly. 

“Do you want a drink?” 

He hesitated, eyes flickering to the empty glass he’d left on the table. “Nah. I’m good.” 

Yuri ended up having a blast, even boldly wandering up to the hockey players and demanding pictures. Otabek wasn’t sure how much he had to drink, but when he plopped himself onto his lap, throwing his arms around his shoulders and mumbling something that was neither Russian or English or even the few sentences he knew in Japanese Otabek knew it was time to head home. He was sweaty and grinning from ear to ear, almost all of his hair had escaped from his bun and one of his eyes was smudged with black. And he was still so fucking hot; Otabek had no idea how he did that. He had watched him dance with his friends for a while, it was clear that he was stumbling a bit, but even then he was so graceful, his movements so fluid and effortless. When some random guy decided to get handsy he walked up to the three of them, guiding them away. Yuri had forced him to dance for a while too, and he couldn’t help but smile, even though he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. 

It was almost two when they left the club. Mila was getting her friends home, and Otabek had made sure Dani and Jelena got home safely to Dani’s apartment. The girls had both hugged him, and Jelena had mumbled and asked if he had any single brothers or friends. Well, Iska was single, but he shook his head before deciding to humour the drunken girl. His cousin wouldn’t appreciate him setting him up with anyone either. Even if Jelena was really pretty. 

Potya was waiting for them at the front door, and Yuri nearly face planted on the floor trying to pet her. Getting Yuri into the shower was another challenge with him bending all over like a cooked noodle. The water sobered him up slightly, but he was still giggling as he snuggled under the sheets. Otabek sighed, pecking him on the lips. He could still smell alcohol on his breath even after he’d brushed his teeth. 

“It was fun, right Beka?” he whispered, gluing himself to his side. 

Otabek held him tight, burying his nose in damp hair. “Yeah, it was.” He was exhausted, though. 

“You know what would make it even more fun?” 

Otabek froze as Yuri snuggled closer, throwing a leg over his thigh. The thought was never far from his mind, but the plan was that they’d come home from the club, both buzzed and laughing, high off of a good time. And he’d take Yuri to bed and everything would go so smoothly and perfectly. But then a tiny ball of grey had forced in his chest and got bigger with each breath and all he wanted was to stay home and sleep. He didn’t even think he could get his knot to form if they had sex tonight. He might not even get hard. Yuri might not even want it in the first place either; he was drunk. Not even buzzed or tipsy, flat out drunk.

“Yura,” he sighed. “You’re drunk.” 

“That hasn’t stopped us before.” He rested his cheek against Otabek’s chest. 

Not like this. Never like this. “I’m not.” 

“But-“ 

“Go to sleep. We can talk about it in the morning.” 

Yuri swallowed heavily, but yawned right after. And once again Otabek was thankful that he was too drunk to read into it. Instead he snuggled against Otabek’s chest, squirming until he stroked his hair. Like a cat. Otabek’s mouth stretched into a small smile. It had been a good night; everyone had fun. He was just thinking too much about it; maybe he’d feel better tomorrow. 

Viktor’s dinner was the night before Yuri’s birthday. Yuri was beautiful in a skin tight, knee-length black dress with a slit that showed off a dangerous amount of thigh. Even though the dinner was at Viktor and Yuuri’s home, they had been instructed to dress up; Yuri’s blood-red jacket, matched his high-as-fuck heels. Otabek put on a tie and wondered if his cufflinks would be too much for a house party. Yuri took a few obligatory pictures for his Instagram updating his story and tagging Otabek so that his phone exploded with notifications as well. 

Compared to the bar last night the dinner party was pretty quiet. They all sat around the giant dining table, with glasses of champagne and wine, just talking. Yuri’s grandfather had flown in, and was staying with Yakov, but it was just close friends. It was a nice night; he’d drunk enough to make everything seem bright and happy, but it had already been a much better day than yesterday. Call him an asshole, but Yuri had been hungover and wanted to cuddle all day, and Otabek had never had a better time. He’d given Yuri a few painkillers, a sports drink, and some crackers, and watched him snuggle under three layers of fluffy blankets. Yet, he pouted whenever Otabek stopped stroking his back or got up. 

The dinner winded down close to ten; Yuri had kicked off his shoes, and was curled up on the couch, the slit of his dress showing off almost all of his thigh, as he bounced his ankle against Otabek’s leg. Otabek was trying not to stare, he really was, but his phone screen was suddenly so uninteresting. At least Viktor and Yuuri were deep in conversation with Yuri’s Grandpa and Georgi and his wife, they wouldn’t notice if he stared. Smooth pale skin, lines of muscle and soft curves made Otabek short of breath. The front of his pants getting tighter, and Yuri’s leg on his lap wasn’t doing any favours either. He bit his lip staring at his blacked out phone screen. He was honestly just waiting for Yuri to give the word that they could go home. They hadn’t really talked about what would happen later that night, but they would talk about it. Yuri had been hinting that he wanted it, steamy looks when no one else was looking, stolen touches, and one or two light slaps on his ass. They still had to talk, they couldn’t let what happened on the couch the other day happen again. He had to be aware - Yuri’s heel slipped against his crotch, and a gruff grunt fell from the back of his throat. 

Raising an eyebrow, Yuri looked over. “You okay, Beka?” He knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Why,” he mumbled. “Why are you like this?”

Yuri grinned, rolling his heel in slow circles. Otabek wanted to die. “Like what?”

He took a deep breath, glancing quickly to the dining table then pushed Yuri off of his lap. It was a complete accident that he fell off the couch as well, but Otabek couldn’t help but snicker. He landed with a thud; at least there was a shaggy rug to cushion his fall, and he clearly wasn’t hurt when he popped back up and started yelling. 

“Beka! What the hell?” He banged his fists against Otabek’s legs. 

Otabek hid his laughter behind his palm. “Sorry.”

The others were all staring at them. Yuuri was already halfway out of his seat. “What-“ 

“He pushed me off the couch!” He punched Otabek’s thigh.

“It was an accident.” 

“Yeah right-“

With a giant sigh, Yuuri sat back down. “Children behave.” 

“You’re such an asshole-“ 

Otabek grunted, quickly going to grab Yuri’s fist before he could hit his knee again. But it was already pulsing waves of hot pain up his thigh and down his calf. Yuri foze, eyes going wide. He’d flinched pretty hard, nearly kicking the coffee table. 

“Fuck,” he swore. “I’m sorry.”

Otabek grimaced. “It’s okay.” 

Biting his lip, Yuri got up. “You need ice or anything?”

“It’ll be okay. Just-”

Now what happened?” This time Yuuri did stand up and was already on his way over.

“Beka’s knee. I hit it.” Yuri looked so guilty and sorrowful, Otabek hated himself for showing that it had hurt. 

“I’m fine. Really.”

Yuuri looked from Yuri to him, before sighing again. “Do I have to put you both in time-out?”

Yuri’s eye twitched and Otabek covered his mouth as he laughed. 

When Yakov and Yuri’s grandfather announced they were leaving and Georgi and his wife weren’t far behind, Otabek called a taxi while Both Yuri’s cleared the remaining glasses and empty wine bottles from the table. Viktor was asleep in his chair mouth open slightly. Yuuri had refused to let him help with anything and still had given him an ice pack for his knee even though he said he was fine. So, he sat watching them speak quietly and laugh softly at whatever. It had been a good night. A good day, and just watching Yuri tie his hair up as he loaded the dishwasher then roll his eyes at something Katsudon muttered in Japanese, had his heart fluttering. He took a few pictures of them, and couldn’t help but grin when he went through his gallery. He was almost disappointed when the taxi arrived. 

The apartment was so quiet Otabek could hear his own heartbeat. They had been making out for a while now. Maybe Yuri was stalling, Otabek sure as hell was. Yuri was sitting on his lap, his dress hiked up to his waist, and his arms loosely around Otabek’s neck. They broke apart with small sighs, staring at each other. Yuri had been mostly silent on the way home, smoothing his thumb in between Otabek’s knuckles. He hadn’t said anything when he lead Otabek to his bedroom, giving him a coy smile before sitting down on the bed. It had been almost hard to breathe, and Otabek’s stomach was full of steaming coals. Why the fuck was he so nervous?

“How’s your knee?” Yuri asked, softly.

Otabek rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. How are you feeling. About this, I mean?”

Yuri swallowed. “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

Otabek glanced at his watch. “It will be in ten minutes.” 

He swallowed again. “Honestly. I still can’t believe… let’s just fucking do this.” 

Otabek scoffed. “So eloquent.” He pressed a soft kiss to Yuri’’s mouth. “So, no second thoughts? It’s not too late to-”

“I want it.”

Otabek blinked a few times. The determination in Yuri’s voice made his gut throb. “Are you-”

Yes .” He nearly pulled away. “Are you sure? Cause you fucking seem like you don’t want to and I thought you-”

“I’m just making sure. I don’t want another repeat of what happened when I said I was leaving.” 

“That’s because you said you were leaving . I don’t want sex when I’m sad .” 

Sad. Otabek bit his lip, smoothing his palms up and down Yuri’s sides. “Now is okay?”

Yuri rapped his knuckles on the side of his head. “Where the fuck were you? I just said I want it.” 

Yuri’s face was fully red and he was glaring at a spot over Otabek’s shoulder. Otabek took a deep breath, a tension releasing  in his stomach. Yuri wanted this. He’d made sure and that was all he could do. Plus, they could always stop if it got to be too much for him. He ran his palms along Yuri’s thighs. His hands looked almost like bronze against Yuri’s pale skin. He really did need a tan, but Otabek knew how easily he burnt so he’d never suggest it. He bit back a chuckle, pulling Yuri flush against his chest. 

“Okay.” 

Yuri’s eyes widened slightly and he took a deep breath, startling when Otabek’s fingers found the zipper at the back of his dress. Otabek eased the sleeves down his arms and the fabric pooled around his waist. Yuri’s chest rose with each deep breath and Otabek stared at him almost hypnotised. He was all smooth skin, tight muscles, and so perfect. So perfect he couldn’t believe this was even happening. He wasn’t sure if it was the pressure from Yuri sitting on him, or just his pants growing tighter, but he felt himself twitch, heat practically throbbing between his legs. He swallowed, glancing up at Yuri who was chewing his lip, pupils blown and cheeks red. He gave him a small nod. 

They went slow. Otabek taking his time to lay Yuri across the bed and undress him fully. He worked him open until he was gasping for air and clutching at the sheets. Yuri held onto him, back arching beautifully when he finally slid into him, mouth hanging open in a high moan. His hair was splayed across the pillows, and his eyes were glassy, pupils blown as he looked up at Otabek. He’d already made a deep red bruise on the side of his neck, right below his scent gland, and a few smaller ones surrounding it. Yuri was going to kill him tomorrow, but for now he just bared his neck, asking for more. 

The fire in Otabek’s stomach was roaring; steam was in his lungs. Yuri’s scent had him lightheaded as he buried his nose where it was strongest, behind his ear. Yuri moaned softly each time he thrust in. He tried to keep his pace slow and even, to build everything up, but Yuri was so tight and slick around him, muscles contracting around him, pulling him in so tightly he felt it in his stomach, that slow was seeming impossible. 

Short, uneven nails dug into his back and shoulders as he sealed his mouth around Yuri’s scent gland. Yuri had been getting bolder, confident enough to dig his nails in like this. It made something deep in Otabek’s gut throb. He slammed into Yuri, losing himself for a second, pushing Yuri hard against the mattress. He moaned, curling around Otabek, a heel slamming into the small of his back. Grinning, Otabek found his mouth, and sealed their lips together, drinking in all the little moans and whines. Yuri held on tightly, tangling a hand in his hair and keeping him from pulling away. 

If there had been any doubt left over about Yuri wanting this, it was whipped out. He was forcing himself to pay attention to Yuri. Forcing a part of his mind to stay alert and just feel him. Yuri was holding on to him for his life, thighs spread wide, and was so wet there was no doubt at all how much he was enjoying it. He was hard between them, little moans escaping from the kiss while he refused to let Otabek move his lips from his. He didn’t know what he had ever done to deserve him, but his chest got tight and he was chasing his breath when he thought about it. And fuck, he was going to knot him, make him his and keep him forever. 

Otabek felt his knot forming as Yuri dragged his nails up his back, muffling a moan by biting his shoulder. He pushed Yuri flat on his back, grabbing his thighs and opening his legs further apart as he quickened his pace. Yuri froze, his mouth hanging open and his eyes widened. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and Otabek pressed his nose to the darkening mark on the side of his neck. Yuri threaded his fingers into his hair, adjusting his hips. His chest was heaving against Otabek’s, and he could feel a slight tremor in his thighs. 

It started as a fiery tingle in the base of his cock, and with each thrust Yuri felt tighter and hotter, pulling him in deeper then refusing to let go. It hadn’t taken long for his knot to start to form at all. 

A small whimper cut through everything, and he realised how hard Yuri’s nails were digging into his shoulders.

“You okay?” he whispered into his ear. 

Yuri let go a shuddering gasp. “Keep going.” 

Otabek nipped at the reddened skin. Yuri jotled, mouth falling open in a loud gasp. “Are you okay?” he asked again, forcing himself to slow down to a painful pace. 

Yuri swallowed, before taking a few raspy breaths. “Hurts.”

He stopped moving completely and kissed all over his face, smoothing stray hairs from his forehead. “Too much?”

“No,” he gasped again. “Just, fuck.”

Otabek breathed in deeply, fighting down the fire in his stomach. “Okay.” He kissed him. “Try to relax.”

Yuri nodded, biting his lip. 

“It’ll feel good soon, I promise.” Clenching his jaw to keep still, he reached between them curling his fist around Yuri’s cock. Yuri jumped letting out a shaky gasp and Otabek caressed him with feather light touches. 

“Realx,” he murmured, kissing the side of Yuri’s jaw. He was trembling fully now, eyes screwed shut and teeth working his lip. But his hips were canting up, chasing Otabek’s hand. He was leaking from the head of his cock. Slowly, ever so slowly, he rocked into him, hissing at the tightness. 

Yuri whimpered, clutching Otabek’s shoulder and possibly drawing blood with his nails. But the sharp sting couldn’t have been anything compared to what he was feeling right now. Otabek kissed him again. 

“Shhh, we’re almost there.” 

Yuri nodded, his breath was like steam against Otabek’s neck and chest. He felt like he was going to burst, the pressure in and around his cock was almost too much; Yuri’s rightness was almost too much. He took a deep breath himself, rolling his thumb along the head of Yuri’s cock. He knew Yuri was torn between pain and pleasure, and all he could do was wish that he could have been in heat so it wouldn't hurt half as much. Yet, his own release was drawing closer by the second. His stomach was tightening, heat spiraling from his cock, even his toes were tingling. He let his eyes fall shut as he breathed in Yuri’s scent. He pushed in deeper, almost all the way in now, and Yuri squirmed, readjusting his hips, and spreading his legs wider. He trailed a finger along the underside of Yuri’s cock, feeling the way he twitching in the muscles of his ass clenching even tighter around him. 

“Yura?”

“Keep going,” Yuri’s voice was breathless and he ended in a long sigh. 

“You okay-”

His hand tightened around Otabek’s bicep. “If you fucking stop now, I’m going to slit your throat with my skates.” He swallowed a moan, bucking up into Otabek’s hand. 

Okay. Otabek licked his lips, finally pushing in the last few millimeters. Yuri sunk his teeth into the tendon at the side of his neck, back arching and inner walls contracting. Otabek’s eyes nearly rolled back in their sockets. His stomach churned, and everything tightened around a swirling fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Shit,” Yuri swore, throwing his head back against the pillows. “Shit shit shit shit shit shit-”

“Yura?”

“Fuck!”

“Are you-”

Yuri’s hand were tight on either side of his face, as he held him in place to kiss him so deeply that he just about forgot about everything else, just the hot, silky mouth clumsy tongue and the occasion bite of teeth. Yuri pulled at his hair, hips rolling every so slightly even as his thighs were trembling. Otabek managed to catch himself before he lost it all, tightening his grip on Yuri’s cock and pumping him with a mission now. The tightness was almost unbearable, he was literally going to explode. He held his breath as sparks swirled and ignited in his gut. His fingers and toes felt like they were going numb, but all he could concentrate on was how hot and tight Yuri was, the way his walls contracted as if to pull him in deeper. It was like smoke filled his lungs and head, blood was pounding his ears and the harder he tried to hold on, the tighter and hotter everything became, sparks traveling all over his body.

He broke the kiss, fighting to form a sentence. “Yura, I’m-”

Yuri answered him with a high moan then it was like a sheet of white was dropped over Otabek’s head. His ears were filled with a high pitched ringing as a wave of red-hot heat took him over. Colours danced behind his eyelids, the mattress spun and swayed underneath him. He was breathing in cotton candy and everything was just so fucking good. At the back of his head he heard himself moan Yuri’s name like he was dying, and Yuri practically screamed.  

The release left him with bones like jelly and eyelids like lead. Every nerve ending was buzzing as he slowly became away of the bed, the sheets, of Yuri nuzzling the hollow of his throat and the far less urgent, but still just as pleasurable, pulsing tightness around his cock. He had to fight to get his breathing back to normal and stroked the back of Yuri’s hand with the hand that wasn’t covered in Yuri’s watery release. He felt lips against his collar bone and suddenly he was floating again, but with a slender, lean body wrapped around him. He could honestly say he was content, every muscle fibre just felt good and relaxed, and Yuri’s scnet was still strong in his nose. It was perfect. 

“Yura?” his voice was hoarse.

“I get it now,” Yuri mumbled, pressing his palm flat against Otabek’s racing heart. 

“Hmmm?”

“Shit, this feels so good.”

Otabek’s chest swelled, and he pressed his lips to Yuri’s temple. His eyes prickled even though he hadn’t opened them yet. Warm tears gathered at the corners of his eyes before he could even do anything, and he took a deep breath that sounded suspiciously watery to his own ears. His chest wasn’t big enough for both his heart and lungs.

“Beka?”

Yeah. Knotting was overwhelming. He’d never cried before, though. 

“Beka?” Yuri’s fingers were hot against his cheek. Every movement he made made it even more obvious how tightly they were connected. His entire body wasn’t big enough for how he felt right now.

“I’m okay,” he blubbered. Actually blubbered. “I just, I love you so fucking much. Are you okay?”

Yuri kissed him softly, slowly and just enough to make Otabek’s heart stop and make him wonder how he was even able to feel this much.

“I never want to you to move ever again,” Yuri whispered. “I want to stay like this forever.” 

The next morning Otabek woke with a smile.