Author's note: This twoshot is dedicated to my friend, SasuNaruGaaraIta, because it's her birthday today! Happy birthday, sweetheart!
Now this is my first time writing a Yuri on Ice fic and thus my first attempt at the pairing Otabek/Yuri, so I can only say that I hope it isn't too awful ^^;
Warnings: Yuri's pov; some foul language; slash; MPreg; some drama; some angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Yuri on Ice. Mitsurou Kubo owns it.
Dedicated to: SasuNaruGaaraIta
I hope you'll like this first part!
Part 1
"Yuri, you're done for today," Yakov barked; his red face not entirely the result of the cold air wafting from the ice.
Panting, Yuri scrambled up again, his knees still smarting due to his hard fall on the ice. He ignored the throbbing ache and sped towards the old man. "Come on, I still have two hours of training left!" he bristled, slapping his hand down on the railing.
Yakov crossed his arms and looked unimpressed. "That's the fifth time you messed up your footwork, Yuri. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you lately, but you can't keep screwing up. Take a break for now and I'll see you back on the ice in two days."
"Two days?! I'm not going to sit on my arse for two days!" Yuri yelled, uncaring that his voice echoed across the ice, startling the other skaters.
"You will do exactly that if you don't want me booting you off the ice for the rest of the season!" the coach growled and marched away before the blond could launch into a tirade.
Gnashing his teeth together, Yuri contemplated whether he couldn't risk staying on the ice. It was only for two more hours, who was the old man to tell him he couldn't finish his training?
"YURI, GET OFF THE ICE NOW!" Yakov's voice boomed, the volume amplified by the open space and the younger man cursed, spewing explicative curses as he stamped off the ice.
He took care when taking off his blades, but his movements were jerky with frustration and it took him a couple of attempts before he could loosen the knots in the shoelaces. The shower he took was brief, just enough to get rid of the sweat, and he ignored a couple of the guys calling out to him when he stormed out of the lockers.
Russia's cold wind stung his cheeks and he stuffed his hands into his pockets; his face set on thundercloud as he marched through the streets, back to his apartment. Other people sensing his foul mood gave him a wide berth, which suited him just fine. Made it a lot easier to get home at any rate.
He knew, okay? He realised he'd been fucking up a lot during training this week. Was it his fault that he'd been feeling weird for almost two weeks now? Several mornings so far he'd woken up nauseous; not bad enough to actually warrant throwing up, but it was enough to make eating breakfast difficult. The sick feeling tended to linger throughout the day and it became harder to concentrate during practice.
Today wasn't the first time he'd fucked up during practice, but it had definitely been the worst so far. He'd even screwed up a simple jump! Only a fucking beginner messed up something as easy as a jump.
Scowl deepening, he ignored the cheerful "Hello dear!" from the old woman who lived next door and jammed his key into the lock. It took a bit of wiggling the key around, ramming his shoulder against the door and cursing so loudly it had a man walking past gaping in shock, but then the damn door finally opened with a screech and he stumbled inside.
Checking the mail, it revealed two bills and a bunch of advertisements he had no interest in. He really should get their names off the advertisement list; the flyers only ended up in the trash anyway.
Trudging upstairs, he ignored the way his stomach rolled with each step he took and selected the key to his apartment. Fortunately this door wasn't as stubborn as the front one and he slipped inside with minimal effort, locking the door behind him. Old Peter from the third apartment on this floor had a tendency to just walk into whatever apartment was unlocked whilst drunk and Yuri was definitely not in the mood to deal with his drunk arse.
Throwing the mail on the table – he'd deal with the bills later – he kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen, plucking a bottle of water from the fridge. Wandering back into the living room, he took his phone from his pocket and checked whether he had any messages.
There was one from Otabek, 'Flight's been delayed for two days. Mum insists I visit my grandparents first.'
Well, crap. Yuri scowled as he went to form a reply. He'd hoped to see his boyfriend again tomorrow, but he had to wait at least two more days. 'It's fine. Tell them I said hi.'
There was one from Mila, telling him he'd best get his act together before Yakov would kill him, but he ignored that one. That old hag should mind her own damn business instead of sticking her ugly nose in his. The third message belonged to Yuuri and the blond furrowed his eyebrows.
'You up for some company? I need to see something else than my apartment.'
"What, the idiot not entertaining enough?" Yuri muttered but almost automatically his fingers typed 'Sure, whatever. I'm home.'
The Japanese skater had moved to Russia permanently two years ago; he and Victor shared an apartment in the more higher end of the city. It wasn't unheard of for Yuuri to drop by Yuri's place, either after training had ended or just because he needed a change of scenery like now. The blond skater didn't really understand why Yuuri would want to stay at his apartment – which was admittedly less luxurious than the one he shared with Victor – if he wanted to get out of his own apartment, but whatever.
Occasionally it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't as annoying as that old hag or as gruff as Yakov. Hell, maybe he could even get Yuuri to make some katsudon for him.
Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on his door and when Yuri opened the door, he met brown eyes, which blinked up tiredly at him. "I didn't hear the bell of the front door," Yuri remarked, stepping aside. "You look like shit by the way, Katsudon. Did you even sleep last night?"
Yuuri groaned and walked past him, straight to the couch. "Anna's been fussy the entire night," he explained, rubbing his hand over the baby's back. The nine month old baby girl was resting against his chest in her powder blue sling, sleeping peacefully. Her black hair was covered nearly entirely underneath an emerald green cap, which her father removed gently. When she would wake up, Yuri knew he'd be looking into bright, light blue eyes – ones inherited from her other father.
"She sick?" Yuri asked cautiously, settling down carefully next to the black haired man. The last thing he wanted to do was wake her up in case she decided to exercise her lungs again. She could be as dramatic as Victor, proving she was definitely his kid.
"No, just a bad night," Yuuri muttered and hid a yawn behind his hand. "How did training go?"
It was a rather innocent question, one which the other skater – currently on leave to take care of his daughter – had asked numerous times before. It was his tone of voice that had Yuri instantly on edge and he glowered at the other man, who hunched his shoulders and looked away.
"Who told you?" he growled, fingers digging into the couch.
"Told me what?" Yuuri tried to deflect, but when Yuri's glare intensified, the dark haired man bit down on his lip and sat up a bit straighter. "Mila texted me," he admitted, cheeks flushed. "Said that you're off your game lately. Is something bothering you?"
"You gossip about me a lot?" Yuri sneered and stood up, crossing the room in a couple of strides to look out of the window. Not that the view was that marvellous; just the street with its steady stream of cars.
"We don't gossip about you, Yuri," Yuuri said softly. "She's just worried, you know? She knows you won't talk to her, so she asked me to check up on you."
"I'm not a kid you have to check up on," Yuri snapped, barely keeping his voice low enough to prevent waking up Anna.
"I know you're not a kid, Yuri," Yuuri was quick to reassure. "Just – if something's bothering you, you can, you know, talk to me about it."
The blond snorted and crossed his arms. "Why the hell would I go to you of all people?"
"We're sort of friends, aren't we?" Yuuri answered in a small voice; uncertainty clearly audible.
With a 'thunk', Yuri's head landed against the window and he sighed loudly. One would think that someone of Yuuri's age had learnt not to be so goddamn insecure anymore. Especially considering he was now a parent.
"We can leave if you want," Yuuri offered after they'd passed some time in silence. "Or we could do something else. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."
"Damn right I don't," Yuri muttered and turned around, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "I've just been feeling off for the past two weeks, that's all," he explained begrudgingly.
"Off, how? Are you feeling sick?" Yuuri questioned, humming absently when Anna started fussing.
For a minute, both men were silent and watched the baby, but she didn't wake up in the end and just closed her fist, snuggling closer into her dad's chest.
"Not really sick, just a bit nauseous, you know?" Yuri rubbed his hands over his face. "I can barely eat during the mornings and I keep messing up my steps because I feel like at any time I'll be puking my guts out."
The Japanese man grimaced at the mental image. "You've been like this before? Maybe it's just nerves for your upcoming tournament?" he suggested.
"I'm not like you," Yuri retorted unimpressed and the other man flinched slightly, frowning. Okay, fine, maybe that had been a low blow, especially because the Katsudon had actually improved in that regard in his previous tournament, but what kind of stupid question had that even been? The idiot should have known better than to think he'd be nervous to the point of feeling sick.
He tended to get more annoyed, even pissed off if he felt nervous, not sick.
"Well, er, if it's not because of nerves, did you take a test then?"
At Yuri's blank eyes, Yuuri coughed and looked meaningfully at the blond's stomach before flicking his eyes down at Anna and at once the younger man understood what the other was alluding to.
"No, and I don't need one!" he bit out, pressing back against the wall.
"Look, it can't hurt to do a test," Yuuri tried to reason but Yuri slashed his hand through the air and cut him off sharply.
"You think Otabek and I aren't careful? I don't need a fucking test, okay? I'm not feeling off because of that!"
The patient, sympathetic look filling brown eyes made him want to punch him. "Victor and I used protection too," Yuuri remarked quietly, rubbing a hand soothingly over Anna's back. "And yet I still ended up with Anna. Protection isn't always completely safe, Yuri, and you know that."
"I'm not pr- I'm not expecting, all right!" Yuri spluttered, balling his hands into fists. He couldn't be expecting a baby, not like Yuuri had been, because … Because …
He'd never considered having children in the first place.
He'd known from a young age that he carried the gene responsible for giving some men the ability to become pregnant. Not every man had the gene; one had around a thirty-five percent chance of being born with it. Some scientists claimed it was nature's way of keeping the population at a good number by giving some men the ability to bear children as well; others just considered it an abnormality, genes not forming properly, like blue eyes had been in the beginning.
There was a test parents could subject their sons to in order to find out whether or not the boy carried the gene. It wasn't mandated and most men lived their lives without ever knowing if they had the gene or not. The test could be done at a later age as well, though Yuri had undergone the test when he'd been eight years old. His grandfather hadn't initially planned on letting him get tested, but back then the media had been in an uproar about three boys who'd ended up with complications after a surgery because they hadn't known they were carrying the gene, and Yuri's grandfather had decided it was better to be safe than sorry and had booked an appointment with the doctor immediately.
Yuri ended up having the gene. The knowledge didn't particularly change his life much. Sure, it had caused a rather embarrassing talk with his grandfather when the older man had decided to give him the sex talk, but overall, it was something Yuri had never really thought about. All his dreams, hopes and thoughts revolved around ice skating; who cared whether he could carry children?
Then he'd got together with Otabek and after three months, he'd confessed to the man that he was carrier of the gene. Considering he wanted to have sex with Otabek at some point, he'd only thought it was fair that the man knew about the risks. Admittedly, he'd been rather nervous that day, because in spite of the fact that the gene was world wide known, there were still quite a few people who were disgusted by it and not a year went by without the newspapers reporting about a man being beaten by others because of it.
Otabek had reacted well, however, telling him they just needed to be careful then and thanking him for trusting him enough to tell him about it. And that had been that. They started living together, having sex and being careful about it, and Yuri hadn't thought about the gene until Yuuri had ended up pregnant and a completely smitten Victor had announced to anyone who wanted to listen that they were going to be parents.
The couple had had no qualms admitting to their closest friends that Anna had been a complete accident, albeit a very welcome one, and Yuuri had retreated from the competitions in order to focus on his pregnancy and now Anna herself.
Yuri remembered thinking that the couple had been idiots if they couldn't even use protection well enough to prevent a pregnancy, but he had to admit that Anna was quite the cute kid; inheriting her parents' best looks and maybe even their talent on the ice. Although they would have to wait a few more years before they could find out whether or not Anna would be the next contender in ice skating championships.
Still even with Yuuri's pregnancy, Yuri had never given much thought about his own situation. He and Otabek were careful, what was there to worry about? He wasn't as stupid as Katsudon and that airhead had been; he knew how to use protection. There would be no surprise baby for him, he was sure of that.
But now Yuuri was implying that the reason he'd been feeling weird these past few weeks was because of a possible pregnancy and that – that was just ridiculous. He and Otabek were careful every time; he would know if they had messed up somewhere!
"Look, I didn't want to believe it at first either," Yuuri spoke softly, his head bent down and his hair – longer than normal – shielding his face from view. "I kept trying to find other reasons why I was feeling sick, why I was messing up my steps, why I felt so tired all the time. I just hadn't slept enough, I had eaten too much the evening before, I needed to focus better, try harder … But I kept being sick, kept being tired and in the end Phichit basically smacked me up the head and dragged me to a pharmacy to buy a test."
"We're not the same," Yuri muttered, glowering down at the floor.
"I know it's scary to think of the possibility, and hey, maybe you're right and you're not pregnant, but you'll only know that for sure when you've taken a test," Yuuri stated, sounding firm now. "If the test is negative, you can go see a doctor to find out what's really going on. Don't you want to know for sure, though?"
No, he didn't, because he'd never thought about having children and the idea that he might actually be carrying one right at this moment scared the shit out of him.
"Just think about it, okay?" Yuuri sighed softly, adjusting Anna slightly. "How's Otabek doing?"
The change of subject was rather weak and glaringly obvious, but Yuri accepted it gratefully, not wanting to keep talking about taking a damn test. "He's fine. His mother is making him stay an extra two days so he can visit his grandparents."
"That's nice," Yuuri smiled, crossing his legs. He'd started losing weight apparently, because those jeans were ones he'd worn before his pregnancy. "My parents and Mari are planning on visiting us in a month."
"As long as your sister stays away from me," Yuri mumbled, coming over to sit down on the couch again. "Where's Victor anyway? Shouldn't he be with you?"
"He's taking Japanese language classes, remember?" Yuuri smiled, letting Anna curl her hand around his index finger. "He still has an hour left before he's coming home."
"I thought he knew enough Japanese by now?" Yuri furrowed his eyebrows. Victor had been taking classes for almost two years by now; hadn't he become adept enough at it by now?
"He's taking advanced classes now," Yuuri smiled proudly, dropping a kiss on Anna's head. "I told him his Japanese was good enough, but he insists on completely mastering it."
"Even with languages, he has to be perfect, huh?" Turquoise eyes rolled and Yuri slouched against the back of the couch.
The other man shrugged, still smiling. "At least our daughter will be able to speak at least two languages fluently," he said happily.
They talked for a little while longer, about training and the upcoming tournaments and Yuuri left an hour later with a fussy Anna after extracting a promise from the blond that he would join them for dinner next week.
Slumping back down on the couch, he drew his legs up and picked up the remote, turning on the tv.
He resolutely ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach and the voice in the back of his mind, whispering, 'What if Katsudon is right?'
Because he wasn't. Yuri was sure of that.
AN2: I hope it wasn't too bad! The next part should be posted soon :)
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all back in the next part and I wish you all a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!
Cuddles
Melissa
P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.