Disclaimer: If I owned anything, I wouldn't be on this site, now would I?

A/N: Woohoo! My first M-rated fic! This was beta-ed by my lovely friend ALifeYouLove (who can be found on AO3). Any mistakes are, of course, mine. Yuri is heavily based on me in this fic, especially with regards to his sexuality. (Wow, HermioneGirl96 writing a self-insert, what a surprise, I know.)

"I can be ready now, if you want," Yuri said foolishly. He was seventeen and so relieved he could almost cry; he and Otabek had finally talked about what had been on both their minds for two years, and now they were curled up on Otabek's sofa together, talking about sex.

"That's not how it works." Otabek sounded a bit annoyed. "You'll be ready when you're ready. If you're ever ready. It's not something you can rush."

Yuri's sense of relief suddenly doubled, and he curled into Otabek, nuzzling his head into Otabek's stomach. "Thank you." He could feel a prickling at the inside corners of his eyes, and no, he was not going to cry.

"Yura." Otabek bent forward, probably because he'd heard something in Yuri's voice. "Are you okay?"

"I just—" Fuck, tears were a legitimate threat. "I want this to be good for you. And I don't know if I'm ready or how long it'll take but I just want you to know that you can always—I mean, this is about you, too, and you should feel free—"

"No."

Yuri had never heard Otabek's voice this harsh, and it tipped him over the edge, a sob forcing its way out of his throat and past his lips. Otabek's arms wrapped around him instantly.

"Yura, Yura . . . Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" All the harshness was gone, replaced by gentleness Yuri was prepared to categorize as infinite.

Yuri just shook his head and burrowed further into Otabek's chest, trying to stop the tears and get his breathing under control. Otabek rubbed his back and murmured apologies and reassurances into his hair.

When Yuri could finally breathe properly again, he said, "I meant it, though. This means I'm yours and you should feel free to take what you want."

Otabek let him finish the sentence this time, and he didn't snap a reply, but he looked pained. "How could you think I would do that to you?" His expression darkened. "Has someone else—"

"God, no, there's never been anyone else, Beka."

Otabek's arms encircled Yuri again, and this time the words he murmured into Yuri's hair were, "Thank God."

Yuri forced a weak laugh. "That jealous, huh?"

Otabek shook his head. "It's not that. I just got worried that someone had hurt you."

"No, no one's done anything," Yuri said.

Yuri's tears had plastered his hair to his cheeks; now Otabek brushed it away. "Thank God." Then his face got serious and he looked Yuri in the eye. "I want to be clear about this: You don't need to thank me for letting you take your time. It's just basic human decency. No matter what happens between us or how long we last, don't let anyone tell you differently."

The words "no matter what happens between us or how long we last" represented the first time it ever occurred to Yuri that he and Otabek might break up, and he resisted the idea by sticking his head back in Otabek's chest, though at least this time he avoided crying. Otabek rubbed Yuri's back some more and said, "Please listen to me on this one, Yura."

"Are you sure?" Yuri managed to say, though he could hear the quiver in his own voice. "I want this to be good for you, too. What if you get tired of me?"

"It might be too early for me to promise I'll never get tired of you, but I can tell you I find that possibility supremely unlikely," said Otabek. "And any future where I get to be with you sounds like a good future for me, regardless of what we're doing together."

"How are you so perfect?" Yuri mumbled into Otabek's chest.

"I'm not perfect, and I have no idea how you still think of me that way," Otabek replied. "If your idealized vision of me hasn't already been destroyed, it soon will be, I promise. And I hope you'll stick with me once that happens."

"Always," said Yuri.

"Woah there, tiger. Don't make promises you can't keep. It's too early for that kind of talk."

Yuri suddenly felt young, the way he'd felt when Otabek wouldn't let him into that club two years ago, and the age difference between himself and Otabek yawned before him. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked.

Otabek kissed Yuri's forehead. "Very. I've been sure for a long time."

"Good," said Yuri. "So have I."

"Good thing we finally talked about it, then, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Otabek ran a hand through Yuri's hair and said, "Let's go to bed."

Yuri stiffened involuntarily, but he said, "Okay."

Otabek carried Yuri to his bedroom (how did he get arm strength? Yuri could barely lift his checked bag when he traveled) and set him down in his unmade double bed. Yuri fought a yawn and tugged off his shirt but left his exercise pants on for now.

Otabek looked at him and frowned. "I thought you were always cold."

Yuri shrugged. "You're joining me, aren't you?"

Otabek smiled at that. "Yes I am. And I can't deny I enjoy the view."

The hunger in Otabek's tone made Yuri want to hide, but Yuri would fight all his instincts for another glimpse of that smile.

Otabek walked around to the other side of the bed and began undressing. Yuri held himself tense, clenching all his muscles, and forced himself to watch, forced himself to smile. That's what a normal boyfriend would do, right? He liked the sight of Otabek's abs, anyway, and Otabek's legs weren't too bad. He just wasn't quite prepared for the sight of Otabek's dick, and he hoped he'd be able to keep himself from closing his eyes or rolling away . . .

And then Otabek pulled a pair of pajamas out from under one of the pillows and tugged those on instead, without ever removing his underwear in the process.

Yuri was confused. Maybe Otabek liked being undressed by whoever he took to bed? Was that why he'd put on pajamas? Had Yuri made a mistake in taking off his own shirt? Putting it back on now would just be awkward, though. Yuri hadn't figured out what to do yet when Otabek flopped down on the bed, rolled onto his side, scooted in close, and wrapped an arm around Yuri.

"Hey, how am I supposed to undress you like this?" Yuri said once Otabek had gotten settled.

"Undress me?" Otabek asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that what we're here for?"

Otabek blinked at Yuri. "What?"

"You said we were going to bed," Yuri replied.

"God, Yura," Otabek said. "I meant sleep. Well, and I'd like to hold you, if that's all right."

Yuri relaxed, able to unclench for the first time in what felt like much more than a few minutes. "Oh."

"I suggested going to bed because you sounded exhausted. Do you want sex?"

"Do you?" Yuri returned.

Otabek skewered him with a look. "That isn't what I asked. Do. You. Want. Sex."

Yuri looked down and mumbled, "Not really."

"You really think I'd hurt you like that?" Otabek sounded pained.

Yuri forced himself to look back at Otabek. "No."

Otabek sighed and ran a hand through Yuri's hair again. "Please believe me when I say I won't do anything you're not ready for, okay?"

Yuri nodded.

Yuri wanted to savor the feeling of being held by Otabek, but he was exhausted from crying and fell asleep quickly, a process probably aided by the extra warmth Otabek added to the bed.

In the morning, Yuri woke and took a few moments to figure out where he was before recognizing the band posters on the walls from Skype sessions with Otabek and remembering that, after last night, the only logical place for him to be was in Otabek's arms.

Otabek. Otabek who was perfect and patient and, just now, so warm. Yuri held himself still so as not to wake Otabek, instead mentally cataloguing sensations. Otabek's breath in his ear. Otabek's arms around his torso . . . Otabek's morning wood poking into his hip.

Yuri found himself stiffening again. He trusted Otabek, but at the same time, how could Otabek not expect sex? That was how relationships worked, right? You got together and then you had sex?

Behind him, Otabek started making quiet grunting noises and then yawned. Yuri shifted so he could see Otabek, and Otabek blinked several times and then asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Yuri, still waking up himself, replied with, "What? Yeah. Sure." He'd wondered what Otabek tasted like for over a year now.

This was probably not the right circumstance to find out, given that neither Otabek nor Yuri had brushed their teeth last night and now they had morning breath on top of that, but the pressure of Otabek's mouth against Yuri's felt so right that Yuri didn't care much about the taste. After a few moments, Otabek pulled back, rested his forehead against Yuri's, and said, "How was that?"

"Good," Yuri replied. "More. Please."

So Otabek continued kissing him, slipping his tongue into Yuri's mouth and running his hands through Yuri's hair. They were laying on their sides, bodies pressed up against each other, and Yuri could feel Otabek's swelling erection against his thigh. Eventually, Yuri pulled back and said, "You're hard."

Otabek looked down. "You're not."

"Do you want me to . . . do something . . . about yours?" Yuri asked haltingly.

"Do you want to?" Otabek replied.

"What do you want?" Yuri asked.

"Sex would be brilliant, but only if you want it," Otabek answered. "Otherwise I can jerk off later. It's no big deal. What would be a big deal would be doing something you don't want or something you're not ready for. That would be very big, and very bad."

"Are you sure?" Yuri asked.

Otabek huffed. "Very. So what do you want?"

Yuri bit his lip for a moment and then said, "Would you hate me if I said I just want to keep kissing you?"

Otabek kissed Yuri's nose. "I could never hate you, Yura, and that's a completely reasonable request that I quite like the sound of." And then he covered Yuri's mouth with his own again.

Much later, as Otabek was making breakfast, he asked, "Yura, do you masturbate?"

Yuri blushed. At least Otabek was blushing too. "No," said Yuri. "I've never really wanted to, and I've never seen the point. It sounds awkward and sticky."

Otabek laughed. "It's only awkward if you think it is, but it can get sticky if you don't do it in the shower."

"Oh," said Yuri, unsure of what else to say.

"How about porn?"

Yuri looked at Otabek for a moment before remembering he trusted this man with his life. "I tried once. I think that's the closest I've ever been to a panic attack."

"Shit, Yura, seriously? And you've still been suggesting sex?" Otabek looked up from the eggs he was making and gave Yuri a sharp glance. "No more of that unless you're really, really sure you want it."

"But what if you want it?" Yuri asked.

Otabek looked up again. "Please believe this, Yura: I only want it if you want it. Period."

"But—"

"No 'buts.' At all. Ever. I mean it." Otabek turned back to the eggs and said, "Yura, do you think you might be asexual?"

"What, like a bug that clones itself?"

"No, like a person who doesn't experience sexual attraction."

"I like you, though . . . I mean, like that," Yuri said.

"Yeah, but is it sexual, or just romantic?"

"There's a difference?" Yuri asked.

"Yeah," said Otabek, putting the eggs on plates and handing one plate to Yuri. "Do you want to be with me or do you want to have sex with me?"

"Be with you," Yuri replied, accepting the fork Otabek handed him. "What do you want?"

"Both," Otabek admitted. "But it's fine if I only get one of the two."

"Are you sure?"

Otabek leaned across the breakfast bar to kiss Yuri's forehead. "Yes. I mean, you could be demisexual, which would leave open the possibility of you developing sexual attraction to me once the relationship is strong enough, and that would be cool, but it's also fine if you're completely asexual and that never happens."

Yuri stared at Otabek. "How do you know all this stuff about asexuality?"

"Ayana is asexual," Otabek said, referencing his older sister. "She's not out to our parents, but she came out to me when I came out as bi. I didn't understand, so she sent me some things to read, and sometimes she posts about asexuality on her private social media accounts. And I noticed you never participated in conversations about sexual topics and you always seemed really uncomfortable around Chris, so I kind of wondered if you were asexual, too."

"I'm so glad Chris retired," Yuri admitted. "His performances always made me feel sick."

"Do you mean that the way you say Victor and Yuuri make you sick, or do you mean it literally?"

"Literally," Yuri replied. "Though sometimes I'm being literal with Victor and Katsudon, too."

"Shit, really? Do they know?"

Yuri shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I don't know. I mean, I tell them they're making me sick all the time. They don't ever seem to listen, but I always figured that just meant they didn't care."

Otabek swallowed his latest bite of eggs and said, "I'm pretty sure they just don't realize you mean it."

"Oh."

Otabek took a few more bites of egg and then said, "Yura, would you help me with something?"

"What is it?"

"I only want to do things you're comfortable with. Will you be honest with me about how things are for you, please? I can only make sure you're having a good time if you tell me what you want and what you don't want, what feels good for you and what freaks you out. So will you help me with that, please?"

Yuri nodded. "I can do that."

Otabek smiled. "Thanks. How have the kisses been for you?"

"Good. Really good," said Yuri immediately.

"Can I keep kissing you on the forehead and on the cheek whenever I feel like it?"

Yuri swallowed a bite of eggs and said, "In private, yeah. I don't think I'm ready for public affection. I mean, I'm not planning on keeping us a secret—like, I'm going to tell Victor and Katsudon and Mila and stuff—but I don't want, like, the world to know. There's too much paparazzi."

"Okay. That's good to know. Thanks."

Yuri looked down at his plate and mumbled, "You don't need to thank me."

"You're helping me. I can thank you for that."

"I'm helping you make me happy. Why would you thank me for that?"

Otabek leaned across the breakfast bar again and kissed Yuri on the cheek. "Because making you happy is one of my favorite things."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "You're such a sap, Beka."

Otabek grinned. "You're just noticing that now?"

"I mean, I feel like you kept a lid on it before."

"Okay, yeah. Do you mind?"

Yuri blushed. "No, I like it." He handed his empty plate to Otabek.

Otabek set his own plate and Yuri's in the sink and then exited the kitchen. Yuri followed him to the living room sofa where so much happened yesterday. Otabek sat down and Yuri folded himself into Otabek's arms. He wasn't used to being held, but already this was the most comfortable position he could imagine.

It was another few hours of kissing and talking (mostly kissing) before he called Victor and Katsudon to announce that he and Otabek were dating. Victor screamed, Yuuri cried, and Yuri knew that all was right with the world.