WELCOME TO THE MADNESS, INDEED.
It was no secret that Yuri thought that Victor and Yuuri were the two most irritating people on the planet, next to JJ, of course. Whether it was their endless PDA-fest at the rink or their insistence in telling strangers that they were his parents, they knew just how to get under his skin, even if they weren't actually trying. Yet, there were still some times when they were slightly more tolerable. Like when they opened their apartment to him on the weekends to give him a change of scenery from Yakov's house. As it turned out, Yuuri was actually a half-decent cook, especially when it came to his mother's recipes from Japan. On the other hand, Victor couldn't boil water to save his life. But he did always go out of his way to make Yuri feel at home - such as buying him tiger-print sheets or even finding him a plush Siamese cat that looked just like his Zina, who was all the way back in Moscow with his grandpa.
So, yeah, maybe they weren't completely insufferable, but it wasn't like Yuri would ever tell them that.
After dinner on a Friday evening, the trio was lounging on the couch, energy spent from a rigorous afternoon of training. They had put in a movie, but Yuri wasn't paying attention. Instead, he was texting back and forth with Otabek, complaining about how disgusting Victor and Yuuri were, all cuddled up together on the other end of the sofa.
Soon enough, however, their eyelids began to droop. With the movie only half-finished, Victor shut off the television and he and Yuuri helped set up the pull-out couch for Yuri to sleep.
Once he was settled, Victor and Yuuri wished him sweet dreams before retreating to their bedroom.
"Hey," Yuri warned, just as Victor was about to close the door. "I better not hear any funny business from you two. Don't make me lose my dinner, got it? Or else I'll kick your asses."
Yuri heard a squeak of embarrassment from Yuuri, but Victor only laughed. "Goodnight, Yurio."
"Ugh. Gross." Yuri flopped down against his pillow and tucked Little Zina underneath his arm. He then shot Otabek a quick message of, ttyl beka. going to bed and shoved his phone beneath the pillow, not waiting for a reply.
Yuri woke with a start. His heart jackhammered in his chest and he could feel beads of sweat collecting on his brow. As he sat up, he blinked away the darkness until the faint glow from the streetlamps of downtown St. Petersburg came into focus, filtering through the living room windows.
Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, Yuri swallowed the growing lump in his throat. That was awful.
Yuri had his arms wrapped securely around Otabek's middle as they sped through the streets of Almaty on the older boy's motorcycle.
The sky was a crystal blue, not a cloud in sight. Bright rays of sunlight glinted off of Otabek's helmet and the wind whipped through Yuri's hair.
The buildings passed by in a blur, and Yuri smiled. He felt free and light, like he was floating.
It happened in a flash. A car waiting at the intersection peeled out too fast in front of the bike and Otabek slammed on the brakes.
The sudden stop tossed Yuri from his seat, his body hitting the ground in a violent collision.
By some miracle, he wasn't hurt. Not even a scratch. But when he got to his feet, what he saw made bile rise in his throat.
"Beka!"
The sounds of the city drowned out his cries as Yuri rushed over to him. Falling to his knees, Yuri struggled to breathe. Otabek's motorcycle was a wreck, tipped on its side a few feet away. The front end had been crushed, the headlight shattered. One wheel had lost its rim, the other with a gaping hole. But that was nothing. The bike was replaceable. Yuri clamped a hand over his mouth when he turned, his eyes falling on Otabek. His helmet had been knocked off, revealing a bloodied and bruised face. Otabek's nose was surely broken, and there was a deep gash on his forehead. His left arm was trapped beneath him, but the other was twisted at an unnatural angle beside him. But worst of all, he wasn't moving. Yuri tentatively reached out to check for a pulse. Pressing two shaking fingers to the crook of his neck, Yuri whimpered. There was nothing.
This time, nobody could ignore his screams.
Chewing on his bottom lip, Yuri took Little Zina into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. He felt stupid. It was just a dream. Otabek was fine. Still, he felt a pang of uncertainty when he relived the vision of his best friend lying face-down on the asphalt. He just had to be sure.
Grabbing his phone, Yuri opened his texts. As he scrolled through, he saw a new one from Otabek that had come in two hours earlier.
Night, Yura. Talk to you tomorrow :)
Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. His pulse was beginning to even out though his hands were still trembling. Placing the phone at his side, Yuri laid down and tried to make himself comfortable. It was in vain. He tossed and turned; kicked off his blanket; put it back on. He even cranked up the air conditioner and listened to some music. Nothing worked. Yuri groaned, burying his face into his pillow. Expected to be at the rink the next morning at 8 o'clock sharp, he knew he needed to go back to sleep. But the second he started to drift off, he was jolted awake by the sensation of falling, remembering how he was thrown from the motorcycle like a rag doll.
Staring up at the ceiling, Yuri glanced over at Victor and Yuuri's closed bedroom door.
Maybe he could... No. No way. He was sixteen years old, for God's sake. Besides, Yuri could only imagine how annoying and dramatic Victor would be about the whole thing.
Although, maybe Victor didn't have to know. Yuuri, despite his almost overbearing protectiveness, did seem to have a sense of decorum that Victor sorely lacked.
Getting up before he could change his mind, Yuri crossed the room and took ahold of the doorknob.
He twisted it slowly, daring not to breath as the door squeaked open. Yuri then slipped through the small crack, careful to avoid disturbing a sleeping Makkachin on the ground.
Tiptoeing over to Yuuri's side of the bed, Yuri reached out and prodded his upper arm.
"Hey," he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "Wake up."
"Mmm..." was the response he received, Yuuri only burrowing further into the mattress.
Poking a bit harder, Yuri frowned. "Oi. Pig. Wake up."
He watched Yuuri's brow furrow slightly before he opened his eyes. It took a minute to adjust to the dark, but finally, Yuuri's gaze drifted upwards to where Yuri was standing over him.
Pawing blindly at the nightstand, Yuuri took his glasses and slid them on. "'urio..? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Yuri bit the inside of his cheek before he answered. "I... had a terrible dream and I- is it okay if I stay in here for a little while?"
"What?"
Yuri froze, a sting of embarrassment running up his spine. "Um... nevermind. It was nothing. Sorry. I'll just..."
"Wait, wait." Now more awake, Yuuri pushed his blanket away and grabbed Yuri's arm to stop him from leaving. "Hang on, Yurio."
Yuri turned back to face him, and Yuuri took his hand away to pat the empty space beside him. "Sit for a sec."
Keeping his head down, Yuri took a seat next to Yuuri. He spared a glance over at Victor, who was sleeping soundly on the other end of the bed.
"What happened?" Yuuri asked.
"I just... had a nightmare," Yuri explained. "And it really freaked me out, so I didn't want to be in the other room all alone, that's all. It's dumb, I know."
"No, it's not," Yuuri insisted. "Yurio... there's nothing wrong with needing or asking for help. I'm glad you did. Do you remember what it was about?"
Yuri sniffled. "It was Otabek," he said, his voice wavering at the mention of his name. "We were on his bike. But there was an accident. And I was fine, but he- he... I- I couldn't..."
"Oh, Yurio..." Yuuri put his arm around his shoulder, allowing Yuri to lean against him. "I'm so sorry. Shh... it's alright. It was just a dream."
"It was really scary," Yuri admitted softly after a moment. He pulled away from Yuuri so he could look him in the eye. "It felt so real. Like I actually lost him."
"I know," Yuuri whispered. "But, listen, you can stay in here as long as you need to, okay?"
With a small nod, Yuri wiped at his eyes with his thumb.
"Come on," Yuuri said, placing a gentle hand on Yuri's back. "We've got an early day tomorrow."
Yuuri scooted back and shifted closer to Victor, giving Yuri plenty of room on his other side.
"It's like a Russian sandwich," Yuuri mused, drawing the blanket back up. The smile in his voice was unmistakable.
Yuri snorted, but his expression was soft and appreciative. "Thanks, Katsudon."
"Anytime, Yurio," he said, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "Goodnight."
Already beginning to doze off, Yuri curled up on his side and wrapped himself up in the warm comforter. "G'night..."
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