A/N: Yeah, I jumped on the Yuri on Ice bandwagon. This is my response to the OtaYuri discourse. AKA I love them, Otabek is a gentleman, how dare anyone talk shit on them XP This entire thing is basically just fluff. Enjoy.
I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.
Yuri Plisetsky leaned against the rail surrounding the rink, watching his- rival? Friend?- Katsuki Yuuri choreograph his latest routine. He knew Yuuri came here regularly, and had come here deliberately looking for him, because he needed- oh god it hurt to even think it- he needed relationship advice. And, well, he couldn't exactly go to Victor. Victor was... flighty, to say the least. He'd probably say some meaningless drivel about how he had to figure it out himself, and then lapse into some sickening story about himself and Yuuri. And by god, Yuri did not need to know about Yuuri and Victor's sex life. He knew that Yuuri came here on his own on purpose, the two of them having mutually decided their routines should be entirely secret until the day of the competition. That way they couldn't deliberately one-up each other in practice. Which meant that he was the only one here. Well, this was probably the best opportunity he was going to get, Yuri supposed, so he'd best get on with it.
It had started... a while ago, he supposed. After the GPN, he had begun to spend more and more time with his new friend. Otabek was good company, and he found himself looking forward to visiting whenever he had the opportunity. Then, one night he'd sat down and considered his actual opinions of the man, and come to the conclusion that maybe- just maybe- his attitude towards the Kazakh was not entirely platonic. And whilst he was a very prickly person, he did have a habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve. It was only a matter of time before his stumbled sentences and frequent blushing around the older man came to his notice. One night, Otabek had suggested they see each other, to which Yuri had enthusiastically agreed. He had felt a now familiar bubble of joy in his chest as Otabek held out a helmet for him to take, and he had climbed onto the back of the motorbike he was so accustomed to. Arms around the Kazakh's waist, he had watched as streets, cars and buildings blew past them, until he stopped outside... an apartment block? Otabek had always taken him out somewhere, whether to eat,to a fair, to the cinema, it didn't matter. Never back here. Otabek had invited him into the flat he was staying in during his time in Russia, and had sat him down on his sofa. At this point, Yuri's stomach was tying itself in knots as he wondered what exactly was going to happen. Otabek had given him one of his soft, rare smiles as he'd gone to the little kitchen he had, and came back with two coffees. Yuri's was perfect- full of sugar, just how he liked it. Then he'd sat beside him, and said that dreaded sentence.
"I think we need to talk."
Yuri hoped the way his hands were shaking wasn't too obvious to the older man as he tried to play it casual.
"About what?"
Otabek took a sip from his mug, the picture of calm, and then said without missing a beat, "You have feelings for me, don't you?"
Yuri had almost choked on his coffee, having to put it aside to stop his coughing. He swore he heard a small exhale of air which might have been a laugh from his friend.
"What? No, I... I'm not- Maybe Katsudon's rubbing off on me." He made a lame excuse, but he knew it was already too late. He could feel the humiliating flush across his nose and cheeks, a surefire sign. He huffed and turned away, looking surly. This time, Otabek did laugh- only a short, quiet laugh, but still.
"You can only interact with so many fans before you start to notice these things." He told Yuri, his voice soft, in no way mocking. Yuri chanced a look at him, saw that he too had put his drink aside, and was looking down at his clasped hands.
"...Is that gonna make things weird?" Yuri asked, still mad at himself for being so obvious.
"I don't know." Otabek turned to face him, his expression serious. "You're sixteen. I'm nearly twenty."
"So?" Yuri blurted before he could help himself. "Victor's like five years older than Katsudon. They seem to get on well enough."
"They're both adults."
Yuri's eyes widened slightly, and he felt himself flush again, angry now. "So I'm a child to you?"
"That's what I need to know." Otabek looked him in the eye. "Are you serious about this? I won't lie and say I haven't... thought about you." Yuri's breath hitched. He searched Otabek's face, looking for anything that could tell him what he needed to know- does he like me, too? "But I won't entertain a puppy crush. I need to know that you're sure you want this."
Yuri blinked. He glanced over his friend- his dark, serious eyes, his hair, still windswept from their ride, the confidence with which he held himself. And listened to the flutter in his stomach.
"Yeah. I do."
"Have you been in a serious relationship before?"
"Uh, not really. Haven't really had time."
"Hm." Something in Otabek's expression shifted, and for a moment, Yuri was scared that was going to be a deal breaker. Then he smiled again, quietly amused. "The press is going to tear us apart, you know that, right?"
"Tch." Yuri sniffed. "Fuck them."
Otabek laughed properly, something that happened rarely enough that it made Yuri smile every time he heard it.
"Yeah." Then he sobered up. There was a moment of silence, which Yuri didn't know how to break, and then Otabek moved. He moved closer to Yuri, so they were face to face, and Yuri had to swallow to fight the sudden dryness in his mouth. "...May I?" The dark haired man asked, and Yuri nodded, though he was suddenly painfully nervous. Somehow, being close to Otabek made him feel an awful lot like he did before a performance. The older man seemed to sense this, because he raised a hand to Yuri's cheek in a comforting gesture before he closed the distance.
Yuri didn't know what to do. Otabek's lips were warm, and slightly damp. His hand on Yuri's cheek felt nice, and the way he moved caused Yuri's face to heat up, and a strange, but not unpleasant sensation to settle in his stomach. Should he- was it okay to touch back? Should he try to take control, or just... let Otabek do what he wanted? He wanted to reach out, to touch Otabek's chest, to move closer, but he didn't know if that was okay, if that was the right thing to do. So instead, he just closed his eyes and returned the kiss to the best of his ability. He felt Otabek's fingers thread through his hair, and heard himself sigh at the feeling. Otabek broke the kiss for a moment, kissed him once more, then pulled back. His eyes searched Yuri's face.
"Hm. Not bad."
Yuri blushed, and hit his shoulder lightly. "Shut up." He glared at the man for a moment, then the smile he was holding in escaped, and he shifted closer to Otabek, resting his head on the older man's shoulder, like he'd wanted to do for a while. Otabek seemed to stiffen slightly, shocked by the move, then relaxed, his arm resting around Yuri's slim shoulders.
"Beka?"
"Mm?"
"Are we dating now?" Yuri turned his head, nestling into the space where the collar of his shirt gave way to skin. He smelled of leather, like the jacket he wore.
"If you want to," came the soft reply.
Then I guess we are, Yuri thought with a smile.
At first, not much was different. It was mostly on Yuri's part that things changed. He slowly tested boundaries, finding out what he could get away with. Leaning on Otabek's shoulder when they sat together, holding on just a fraction tighter when they were on the bike, just little touches. Otabek was, as with everything, reserved in his affections, though he did steal kisses from time to time, and was quick to rest a protective hand on his boyfriend's hip whenever they encountered one of "Yuri's Angels". As predicted, news spread quickly. When Victor found out, he seemed overjoyed, though it took him mere seconds to lapse into full parent mode and lecture a horrifically humiliated Yuri on being safe. Yuuri had apologised and tugged Victor away, stating that he was sure the young Russian knew how to take care of himself. Yuri had responded by yelling at both of them for being stupidly overprotective, and vowed to never share any details of their relationship with the older couple. Otabek only smiled and promised to do right by him, prompting Yuri to irritatedly remind him that they were not, in fact, his parents. His grandpa was unsure at first, reminding Yuri gently of Otabek's age, and worrying that the older man would take advantage of him. Yuri was adamant to change his mind though, and after meeting the Kazakh, he seemed to relent with only mild threats should Otabek hurt his grandson.
And then the inevitable happened. Someone had managed to catch the pair of them on camera, and two days later a photo depicting them sat on a park bench, Otabek's arm around Yuri and Yuri pressing a kiss to his cheek, was all over social media. Responses were mixed. Many of Yuri's fans seemed heartbroken ("Wait, they actually thought they had a chance with me?"), with some even going as far as to accuse the now-famous skater couple Victor and Yuuri of 'corrupting' him. And, as Otabek predicted, the media was vilifying him for being with the younger man, questioning his intentions. It didn't seem to get to him, though. He told Yuri after a particularly nasty Otabek Altin: Hero or villain? article made the rounds that the only person he needed to prove himself to was Yuri himself, prompting Yuri to accuse him of being as disgustingly cheesy as Victor. He would never admit that the comment had made his heart skip a beat.
So what was his problem? Well, as their relationship progressed, they became more comfortable with each other. Though in public they were never anything but chaste, behind closed doors their interactions became more and more intimate. Gentle kisses turned into full-on making out, and more than once, Yuri had left his mark on the older man. And yet... every time he tried to push it further, Otabek would stop him. If he tried to slip his fingers under the Kazakh's shirt, he would feel a gentle touch on his wrist, if he tried to trail kisses down the older man's chest, he would pull him up to resume kissing his lips. Yuri wasn't brave enough to bring it up in conversation, but in the back of his mind, he was beginning to worry. What if Otabek didn't like him like that? What if he didn't find him attractive? Was he doing something wrong? So here he was, about to ask- he swallowed, feeling his pride slipping through his fingers- Yuuri Katsuki for sex advice.
"Oy! Katsudon!" He yelled. Yuuri glanced over from where he was skating a perfect arabesque, bringing his skate back to the ice so he could change direction towards Yuri.
"Oh, Yurio!" He gave him a smile and a wave, which Yuri returned with a glare. He glided to a stop against the rail where Yuri leaned. "What are you doing here? Not here to see my competition routine, are you?"
"No, idiot. I can win without cheating." He scratched at a mark on the railing, already feeling a blush start to show on his cheeks.
"Oh. Well, I'm leaving the rink in a half hour so if you can wait-"
"I'm not here to skate." He snapped. Then he huffed, not quite making eye contact. "I need advice."
"Advice?" Yuuri looked surprised, pushing dark hair out of his face. "Has something happened between you and Otabek?"
"Not- not really. Actually, that's... kind of the problem."
"Huh?" Yuuri frowned.
"Nothing's happening! I keep- I keep trying and he doesn't respond! He stops me before I can do anything!" Yuri gestured vaguely in a random direction, expressing his pent-up frustration. "It's like he's not interested in me!"
Yuuri held his confusion a moment longer, then realisation dawned on his face. "Oh. Oh." He blushed, figuring out what Yuri wanted from him.
"I can't believe I'm asking this, but how do I get him to put out?"
"Yurio, aren't you... you know, a bit young?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, I'm sixteen! I'm legal!"
"It's not about the law, Yuri." Yuuri leaned against the rail beside him. "It's about if you're ready or not." He smiled softly. "You know, it actually took Victor and I a while to-"
"Shut up!" Yuri clapped his hands over his ears. "I deliberately came to you instead of Victor so I could avoid hearing about your- that."
"Ah, sorry." Yuuri laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in a slightly embarrassed manner. "I'm just saying. You know what I was like when I first met him."
"Yeah, I do, Katsudon."
"So it's okay if you take your time. Have you tried talking to him about it?"
"Tch." Yuri picked at a spot of flaking paint. "No."
"Why not? Do you feel like you can't talk to him about things?"
"No! He's- I trust him. But I don't know. How would I bring it up? It feels... just... ugh, no."
"Hmm." Yuuri regarded him. "Do you think it might be because you're nervous?"
"What? No, I'm not nervous." He looked away, considering himself. Was he? Maybe a little. Otabek was older than him. More mature. Maybe that did scare him a bit. Not enough to put him off altogether, though, right?
"I think you should think it over. Make sure it is what you actually want."
Yuri glared at him. "You're useless."
"Ah, sorry Yurio. There are some things you've gotta figure out yourself."
"Whatever." He turned to leave.
"See you around!"
"Yeah. Have fun or whatever." With that he left Yuuri to it, shoving his hands in his pockets and thinking. He found himself fidgeting with his phone in his pocket, and it didn't take long before he took it out and brought up Otabek's number.
"Yura?"
"Hey, Beka. Can I come over tonight?"
"Of course. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just want to see you. Is that a crime?" He said, and then berated himself for being so defensive.
"...No." Otabek sounded mildly taken aback. "Should I cook?"
"Um. Yeah. That sounds nice. I'll... I'll come see you after practice, yeah?"
"Mm. See you."
"Love you." Yuri said before he could help himself. There was a pause at the other end of the line, then a soft, "Love you too." The dial tone sounded, and Yuri put his phone back in his pocket, trying to will away the furious blush on his face. So now what? Am I gonna confront him about it? Tonight? Fuck.
Later in the day, he made his way to the rink where Otabek practiced, signing himself in and pulling on his skates. Making his way to the ice, he caught Otabek practicing jumps, and watched as he glided through a mohawk turn into a triple flip with perfect poise, the height of the jump impressive enough to pull a gasp from the gold medallist. He noticed Yuri as he rounded the ice again, and held up a hand in greeting. A small spray of ice kicked up from the outside edge of his skate as he slid to a halt.
"Yura."
"You could have made that a quad, you know." Yuri pointed out, stepping out onto the ice to join him.
"That's the goal." The older man watched as Yuri made his way to the centre of the rink, doing a few basic moves as he did so. "Have you mastered it yet?"
Yuri didn't reply, instead speeding into a three-turn and leaping from the ice. His lack of preparation meant his form wasn't perfect, and as he landed he stepped out, but he landed it, and he smirked at the impressed look on Otabek's face. "Getting there."
"You'll have it perfected by the competition, I'm sure." He caught up with Yuri, placing one hand on his waist and taking Yuri's with his other so they moved along together for a moment.
"Do you think we should do a pair skate?" Yuri asked, somewhat out of the blue as he turned to face Otabek, their fingers laced together.
"Maybe. I've never tried pair skating before."
"Neither. I was never strong enough to do the lifts."
They skated for a while, showing off moves and just generally enjoying themselves. Having very different styles, they both found they could learn from the other, though Otabek told Yuri he didn't think he'd ever be able to get his leg above his head the way the other did. Yuri responded by doing a perfect Biellman spiral, showing off his balance and flexibility.
Eventually, they grew tired and left the ice, returning to Otabek's apartment. They ate together, Yuri having discovered that the Kazakh was actually a half decent cook, and settled down for the evening. It wasn't until then, cuddled up to Otabek on the older man's sofa that he thought about his problem again. Should he say something...? No, he didn't want to make it awkward. So instead, he pressed a kiss to Otabek's jaw, looking for attention. The Kazakh looked down at him, then caught his lips in a proper kiss. He was soft at first, but Yuri chased him, looking for passion. He grasped at Otabek's shirt, and felt the familiar threading of fingers through his hair. Wanting more contact, he moved into Otabek's lap, deepening the kiss. His hand toyed with the collar of the older man's shirt, and he could feel the line of his collarbone beneath it. A shiver went through him, and he trailed kisses down Otabek's jaw and throat, hearing the catch in his breath when he bit down, taking the time and care to leave a mark. He trailed his fingers down Otabek's chest, down to his hip. He felt his partner's shiver when he brushed bare skin, but once again, when he tried to push up the hem of Otabek's shirt, to touch him properly, he felt long fingers around his wrist, stopping him. Instead of immediately pulling his hand back though, like he usually did, he left it there, tracing the line of Otabek's hip lightly with his thumb. He paused with his kisses as well, knowing that if he didn't say anything now, his chance would have passed.
"Hey, Beka..." He murmured. "Why do you always stop me?"
Otabek was quiet for a moment. "Because I don't want you to do something you'll regret."
That made Yuri sit up, and look him in the eye. "You think I regret any of this?"
"No." The Kazakh's hand left his wrist, going instead to rest on his thigh. "I don't. But I also think you don't want to go further."
"Why not?" Yuri couldn't help the irritated edge slipping into his tone. Otabek regarded him for a second or two, his dark eyes pensive. Then he tapped lightly on his leg.
"Up." Yuri blinked in surprise, but then Otabek repeated the action, and he obeyed, climbing off. Otabek stood, and took his hand, leading him to- to-
Oh.
Was this really happening? Otabek led him to the bedroom, pushing the door shut behind him and returning to Yuri. He leaned in to kiss him again, gently guiding him backwards as he did so, until Yuri felt the backs of his knees hit the bed. He lost his balance, falling back onto it, and felt a flush on his cheeks as he looked up at his boyfriend, his heart beating a little faster than normal. Otabek climbed onto the bed above him, his body warm and heavy on top of Yuri's. They moved so Yuri's head rested on the pillows, and Otabek gave him a moment to get comfortable before kissing him again, taking his hand and guiding it back to where it had been, against his hip under his shirt. Yuri's breath hitched again, not knowing what to do now he had permission to touch. He let out a shaky breath as Otabek kissed his neck, tracing his fingers hesitantly up the line of his partner's spine. He heard the other make a soft noise of appreciation at the touch, and felt Otabek's own hand on his hip, his touch light against the V-shape of his hipbone. He shifted against the touch, suddenly insecure about how thin he was. Compared to Otabek, who he could tell had the perfectly toned musculature that most male skaters had to some degree, he felt so... delicate. Small. His heart pounded in his chest, and he had to put significant effort into breathing normally, so much so that when Otabek pushed his leg between Yuri's thighs, he audibly gasped, taken by surprise.
"Beka..." He tugged lightly on the back of Otabek's shirt, but his partner already seemed to have picked up on Yuri's train of thought, because almost as soon as he heard Yuri's gasp, he pulled back, looking down at Yuri with a softly fond expression. Yuri found himself at a loss for words as he looked up. All he could do was look, as he tried to calm his shaking nerves. Otabek brushed his hair from his face lightly.
"Are you okay?"
Yuri felt the blush across the bridge of his nose, and he scowled and looked away. "Alright. You've made your point."
"What point? I was just making out with my boyfriend." He lay beside Yuri on the bed, somehow managing to look nonchalant.
"Innocence doesn't suit you."
"It suits you." Otabek kissed his cheek lightly.
"Shut up. I'm not innocent."
"Your Agape says otherwise."
"And what if Victor had assigned me Eros? What would you think of me then?"
"Hmm." Otabek looked up, pensive. "Probably impure things."
"What, you don't do that already?" Yuri smirked at him. "I think of you."
"That doesn't surprise me." Otabek teased him. "I hope I measure up."
That made Yuri snort with laughter. "Beka, was that a pun?"
"A completely sincere pun." He smiled, and Yuri cuddled up to him, sighing softly.
"I'll find out one day."
"Take your time, Yuratchka. I love you either way."
"Love you too, Beka."
