When Otabek opens his mail on Monday during practice break, the last thing he had expected was to see an email from Yuuri and Victor; as far as he knew, neither of them knew his email address.'Otabek, Victor and I will be going away for the weekend, and need someone to look after Makkachin, as well as the apartment. Yurio is too young for us to feel comfortable about leaving him alone, and we don't want to bother Yakov. We trust the both of you, so you'll find plane tickets attached. Make yourselves at home, but try not to wreck the place. We've only just moved in and we love the place. We'll be back Monday after you leave. Thank you, - Yuuri and Victor'
"Oh," is all Otabek can say. The plane leaves on Thursday, so he needs to schedule time off with his trainer. He needs to pack as soon as he gets home, and really think about what he is going to back, because, yeah, okay, they're having a weekend for themselves.
Sure, Victor and Yuuri claim they invited him because they don't trust a sixteen year old to watch the place and dog on his own, but both Yuri and Otabek knows the actual reason. If they told Yura, that is; Otabek knows Victor is a fan or surprises.
Should he call Yuri to ask? Or let Yuri contact him? Or maybe don't say anything and let it be a surprise?
Their relationship have evolved faster than either of them expected, but Otabek knows neither of them cares or would change it if given a chance.
They both want this, have craved it. Otabek's been the one who's had to stop them from going too far before they're both ready. This weekend together will give them time to be alone, to explore what they are and how far they're ready to go.
Because Otabek knows he is ready to go further with Yuri, hoping Yuri is too but prepared for it to not be the case; after all, the important thing is that they get to be together.
"Watch the apartment," he mutters to himself as he makes his way back onto the ice. He knows the security at that place is good enough they don't need to have someone stay over for that. The dog is another matter, but as far as excuses go, it's poorly thought out. Well executed though, he'll give them that.
-
His plane arrived late that night, and Yuri's asleep when Otabek arrives, tired after a long day of practice. Still, it's only Thursday, so they have until Monday morning, when Otabek needs to go home to Almaty and practice.
Otabek enters the apartment quietly, using the key that had been left for him. Yuri's sleeping on the sofa, Makkachin draped over him like a blanket, hands buried in the soft curls. When the dog spots him, she lets out a bark in greeting and jumps down from the sofa, tail wagging, to receive pats.
At the disturbance, Yuri curls up, hands reaching for a non-existing blanket and he sighs something that sounds suspiciously like "Beka".
He is so far gone that he stays asleep even when Otabek picks him up and carries him into Yuri's bedroom. Well, maybe it's their bedroom; Otabek will never stay another place while in St. Petersburg after all.
A change of clothes and a trip to the bathroom later, Otabek joins Yuri in bed.
Otabek strokes Yuri's hair away from his forehead as gently as he can; he doesn't want to wake him. He still can't believe he is this lucky; to be in the same bed as Yuri Plisetsky, the young man who captured his soul over five years ago. The young man with the eyes of a soldier, the one who had let Otabek rescue him and then accepted his friendship despite having no memory of him.
-
Otabek is adamant they talk about it first; he has practiced a speech on the trip there. He still is, even when it means he needs to pry the younger man off of himself when Yuri wakes up and sees him.
"You're here?!" It comes out as both a question and an incredulous statement.
Yuri straddles him, showering him in kisses and burying his hands in his hair before Otabek has time to do more than open his eyes.
"Missed you," Yuri breathes against his ear. "Should have woken me when you came." He chuckles at the innuendo, hips grinding against Otabek's. When Otabek settles his hands on Yuri's hips, his intention is to halt their movement, but he can't stop himself, instead moving them up under the worn t-shirt he knows Yuri 'borrowed' from him last time, and he notices it's more worn than it was a few weeks ago.
"Yuraaaaaaaaa…."Just like at the night of the moving in party Yuri and Victor had held just over a month ago, Yuri can make Otabek go weak in his protests and loud in his pleasure.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Yuri asks him in between kisses spread across Otabek's throat.
"Wanted, aaah… wanted it to be a surprise," he replies, feeling his resolve slipping and knowing he needs to stop them from going further. "Victor and Katsuki invited me."
The statement has its desired effect, as Yuri stops kissing Otabek's chest to curse them. He sits back, arms crossed, still straddling Otabek's hips.
"You're here because they asked you to?" Yuri demands, an angry frown on his face that makes Otabek regret his own choice of words.
"I'm here because of you." There's an earnestness in his voice that makes Yuri visibly relax, if only just a little. "I would have stayed in Almaty if it weren't for you. Only you make being here worth it."
Yuri melts at that, sinking down on top of Otabek again.
"You know just what to say," he mumbles into Beka's chest.
"Breakfast?" Otabek asks, and before Yuri can reply, his stomach rumbles. They burst out laughing before they get out of bed to get ready to face the day.
-
"I've done some research," Otabek states in a matter-of-fact tone, taking a sip of his coffee. He decided to approach it in a more clinical matter, finding the subject odd and awkward to talk about in a more normal tone.
"Oh? On what?" Yuri asks, crumbs falling out of his mouth.
They're having breakfast on one of the benches outside the apartment complex, in the wooded area. Makkachin is resting at their feet, tongue lolling out. It's warm, the early summer sun shining down on them from a blue sky. It's quiet, most people are at work at this hour.
"On sex."
Yuri spills the iced coffee he was taking a sip of; barely a few drops making their way into his mouth.
"The fuck are you on about?"
"If you're ready, I want us to do it right. I want it to be safe, to feel good." Otabek hands him a napkin, seemingly unphased by the spray of beverage. Makkachin moves to Otabek's other side, hoping to avoid getting anything else spilled on her.
"You've thought about this for a while," Yuri says, now completely serious.
"Yes. But we're only doing it if you're ready. I can wait, if you're not. I don't want you to regret it."
Yuri kisses him then. He tastes like cold coffee and honey, from the pastry he brought to eat alongside breakfast. Somehow, this kiss feels different than their previous ones; loaded with something more than want and lust. Otabek thinks it feels like love and care and adoration.
"I'm ready."
-
Before he had met Yuri for the second time, Otabek never thought about matters like these. He never wondered when he'd get his first kiss or what it would be like. Never had an interest in anything but skating and his family.
With Yuri, everything changed, and what had once been focused on skating, now turned its sharp gaze towards the angry teen who accepted his friend request despite not remembering him.
For years he had focused on his career in skating, on improving and making a name not only for himself, but for his country. It rewarded Otabek with the title Hero of Kazakhstan.
But more importantly, his drive, his focus, rewarded him with Yuri.
The so-called 'awakening' had happened in Barcelona, after the medals had been given out.
Otabek had helped him pick out the clothes in Barcelona, but seeing him wear them at the club, and then again at the exhibitions had been hard - pun intended.
He had sent a prayer to whomever was listening that they had been at the club, that the crowd had been enough to stop him from jumping Yuri right then and there.
It had been even worse on the ice, and Otabek thanked himself for the (miraculous) control he had over himself; especially when he used his teeth to remove one of Yuri's gloves. It had been planned but not practiced, and Otabek sent another prayer that the light and attention was on Yuri rather than him, as the evidence of the younger man's affection on him became clearer and clearer the more skin Yuri revealed as he moved seemingly effortlessly across the ice.
When Yuri's back had arched as he slid towards Otabek, his control started slipping and he hadn't know how he would have acted had they been practicing and not performing.
After that, it had just evolved.
-
They go into town after finishing their meal. Otabek buys lube and condoms, as well as supplies for the both of them to get properly clean. Neither knows just how far they'll go, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
Yuri is in charge of buying them food for the weekend. The most important being the right type of food (fibrous), but he decides to buy ingredients so he can make his grandfather's pirozkhi as well. So what if he wants to spoil Beka? Beka deserves the best.
Cleaning is an awkward affair they don't talk about. Otabek does it first. It feels weird, but knowing what's to happen afterwards makes it worth it. He puts on a boxer before swapping places with Yuri. Deciding to let Yuri do it in peace, he turns on the TV, switching to a music channel to block out any possible embarrassing sounds that might come from the other side of the door. Otabek still feels restless, so he paces the room rather than sitting down on the bed to wait.
Some minutes later, Yuri stalks naked out of the bathroom, pushing Otabek back on the bed, straddling one of his legs. He looks every bit like a tiger, not like a kitten. Otabek finds this newfound confidence to be a turn-on, because it's so different from the confidence Yuri express on the ice.
Otabek is only allowed a moment to stare at the golden halo framing Yuri's face, before Yuri's kissing him in earnest.
"Yura…. Yura, Yura, Yura." Otabek repeats his name over and over again in a hoarse whisper as Yuri kisses his way further down Otabek's chest. He arches his back, chasing the touch and mouth.
"Can't hear youuuu," Yuri replies in a sing-song tone. Otabek is always so silent, so stoic, but Yuri has away of making him talk, even if it's just ramblings from what he does to Beka.
Yuri is always the one who's loud, who makes his presence known, but when they're together like this, just the two of them, he can make Otabek the vocal one, the one who fills the room with praise, with Yuri's name, with sounds of pleasure that only Yuri brings out of him.
The music still plays on the TV, but neither of them seem to notice or care; they only have eyes and ears for the person in bed with them.
"I wanna make you scream," he continues, kissing his way lower and lower, towards Otabek's boxers.
"I'm gonna watch you plead," Yuri mouths hotly against his cock through the fabric, but otherwise doesn't touch him.
Instead, he starts sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin on the inside of Otabek's thigh, rubbing a thumb against the skin on the other thigh. It has the desired effect, and Yuri would be smug about it if he were cruel, but this is Otabek, and Otabek deserves the best Yuri can give him.
"Yura, please…" Otabek keens as Yuri brushes his nose against the bulge.
"Please what?" Yuri asks, trying to make his tone as innocent as possible, given the circumstance.
Otabek looks at him then, cheeks flushed, pupils wide and eyes dark, a drop of blood on his lip from where he is bitten it, trying to be quiet as though it's not occured to him that they're alone, that no one but the dog will hear.
"You want me to beg?" Otabek asks him, trying to keep his voice under control. "Fuck me, Yura. Please, for the love of God, I've wanted you inside me so long, waited for you to be ready, waited for this, for you for so long." It's as if he is opened a floodgate, and the words won't stop pouring out.
"I want you to open me, to come inside me. I want you to mark me as yours. Please Yura!"
Yuri stares back at him in bewilderment for a second, before kissing him harder than he is ever done before. He kisses Otabek with reckless abandon, wet, sloppy kisses that makes their teeth clash, leaves strings of saliva mixed with blood.
As they break apart for air, Yuri pulls Otabek's boxers down and finally touches him. Otabek arches his back, a litany of 'ah yes, Yura, so good, finally' slipping past his lips, head thrown to the side as Yuri marks his throat while stroking him.
It doesn't matter to Yuri that his own cock has yet to be touched; the sight of Otabek under him, the sounds he can wring out of the other man too wonderful for Yuri to bother focusing on himself; he does it enough already - Otabek deserves his undivided attention.
"I'm ready, Yura. Please." Yuri nods in response, knowing what to do from what Beka told him.
Coating his fingers in lube, Yuri waits until Otabek nods to show he is ready, then inserts one finger. Yuri's not tried it on himself, so the feeling of his finger sliding in and out of the tight heat, of watching it disappear and reappear is mesmerising. It makes him wonder what it feels like.
"Yura…" It's all he needs to hear before he inserts another finger, feeling Otabek loosen up slightly around his digits.
"Try… ah, try moving them apart," Otabek instructs, voice already starting to break. So Yuri does as he says, until Beka lets him know it's okay to insert a third finger.
Yuri forgets to pay attention to Otabek's cock, much less his own, too busy staring at his fingers. He is brought out of his reverie when Otabek speaks again.
"I'm ready," Otabek repeats, eyes locked with Yuri's. Such simple words for such an important step, Yuri thinks, kissing him.
Only now does Yuri touch himself for the first time that night, and it makes him cry out. He is never felt this sensitive before, but he tries to ignore it as best he can as he puts on a condom and coats it with lube.
"You're sure?" he asks, not because he feels he has to, but because he cares so damned much about Beka and never wants to see him hurt or make him regret anything.
"I've never been this sure in my life," Otabek replies in earnest, and the adoration in his voice manages to make Yuri tear up.
So he hangs his head to hide it from Otabek, lines himself up to Beka's entrance and slowly enters him. But before he gets more than halfway, it all becomes too much. Too tight around him, too warm, too much sensation after neglecting his cock for so long, that before he can decide whether to pull out or try to move further in, Yuri comes inside Otabek. It feels so good, he feels too much all at once and he screams Otabek's name as stars appear in front of his eyes and he fears he'll pass out.
Then the shock of what just happened hits him, and he pulls out, turning away.
Yuri curls in on himself shame, hiding his face from Otabek, back turned towards him as a shield.
"Yuri…" Otabek puts a hand on his shoulder, but Yuri pulls away from the touch as if burned.
"It's okay, Yuri."
"'s not."
"Look at me." It's a command, and somehow, thankfully, Yuri turns his head slightly look at him. There are tears in his eyes, making them sparkle, but for all the wrong reasons. Otabek thinks Yuri's eyes should only sparkle from happiness.
"I didn't tell you, but I knew this might happen."
"Then why didn't you?" Yuri asks, and Otabek wonders if Yuri is asking why he didn't tell him or why it only happened to him and not Otabek himself.
"Because I didn't want you to worry it might happen.." Otabek pauses, looks ashamed for a moment before continuing. "You're not the only one."
Brows furrowed in confusion, Yuri looks at him intently. Otabek explains however, before he has the chance to ask.
"I've thought about this for a while, as I said. But I've done more than that. Sure, the research was clinical, but…" Otabek takes a deep breath, still maintaining eye contact with Yuri. "But it also made me wonder what it would feel like. So I… I tried to finger myself. Tried being the key word. I, ah... "
He stops talking then, hoping Yuri understands what he is getting at. Hoping he won't judge him. A soft smile appears on Yuri's lips then, a smile of comfort and understanding and Otabek curses himself for not bringing it up with Yuri sooner, to have spared him for his tears.
"Let me make it up to you," Yuri says, confidence returning to his voice as he once again pushes Otabek down on the bed. He takes him in hand, and before Otabek can react, Yuri opens his mouth around him and takes in as much of his cock as he can.
Otabek's head slams back into the headboard, and he is grateful it's padded and not made of wood, or else he'd fear he'd end up with a concussion from the impact.
It's clear to the both of them that this is Yuri's first time giving a blow job, but Otabek is already too far gone from their previous activities and the wet heat of Yuri's filthy mouth around him to care.
It feels awkward, but good at the same time. Otabek finds it hard to focus on anything but what Yuri's doing with his mouth, while Yuri wonders and worries he's doing it wrong. It never occurred to him that there were things he'd have to think about while giving Otabek a blow job. Cover his teeth, make sure not to choke, apply enough pressure but not too much, use his hand as well.
The slurping sounds are filthy, and it's hard to contain them, impossible to control the amount of saliva. Yuri accidentally scrapes his teeth along the base of the head, but it's difficult to know if the sound Otabek made at the motion was of pleasure or pain.
Yuri lets go with a wet pop, moving to lick and suck at the shaft instead, his hand moving down to fondle Otabek's balls, and that's all it takes for Otabek to come undone, one hand fisting the sheets, the other pulling on Yuri's hair in a warning that comes just in time.
Otabek shouts Yuri's name as he comes, back arching, while Yuri stares at him in wonderment, almost coming undone once again from the sight of Otabek falling apart underneath him. It makes Yuri feel invincible, to have such control of another man, to have such an influence over Otabek that it's all thanks to Yuri himself that Otabek looks like he is about to pass out from the sensation.
Only when Otabek's flat on his back again does it occur to Yuri to move his hand away from Otabek's cock, sure that it must be just as sensitive as he himself had been just minutes before.
"There's a pack of wet wipes in the bathroom," Otabek says drowsily. He stays awake barely long enough to clean himself off, the pair of them tossing the wipes on the floor, both too tired to make more effort than that.
They curl up under the covers, spent and sated, neither regretting the step they just took in their relationship.
-
The next day, Yuri makes them pirozhki for breakfast. They eat them while walking Makkachin, before they retire to their bedroom where they proceed to learn what makes the other one writhe in pleasure.
They only take breaks to sleep and eat, spending hours upon hours locked in the room until Makkachin barks outside the door and they remember she needs to be taken for a walk again.
"I want to try again," Yuri says as they're walking Makkachin. There are other people walking the paths, but none pays them any attention.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow." They stop to let Makkachin mark a tree. "But only if you want to," he adds, suddenly sounding unsure.
"Always,"Otabek replies, smile soft and eyes filled with love.
When they get back, they eat dinner in front of the TV in the living room, watching The Road to El Dorado and commenting on how obvious it is that Miguel and Tulio are more than just friends.
"Partners sounds about right," Yuri comments. "In that totally-in-love kinda way, not the 'howdy pardner' way. They just undress in front of one another like they're completely used to it."
"I wouldn't be too sure about the cowboy part if I were you," Otabek replies.
"Hmmmm?"
"I'm just saying. Men alone with other men for months; bound to be something happening even if they were straight."
"I'll show you not straight," Yuri laughs and pounces on him.
The rest of the movie is left forgotten as they make out on the sofa, moving from slow, languid kisses to the more intent kind filled with passion and want. Then they move to their bedroom, slowly making their way while stripping off their clothes, leaving a trail.
Makkachin huffs and moves to sleep in Victor and Yuuri's bed; the sliding doors having been left partially open to allow her access. She'd always thought her humans were bad, but these two were way worse.
-
They get it right the next day. Several times. As well as they day after.
Sunday night is spent simply cuddling after they've done the dishes and have cleaned up after themselves. Otabek's plane leave early the next day, and neither of them is ready for him to leave. But even if he could postpone his return to Almaty, Victor and Yuuri are still coming back home later that day, so continuing as they have this weekend would have been impossible.
Neither of them is sure what to say. They don't know when they'll get to see one another next time, competition or not, so instead they prefer to simply feel the other person's presence for as long as they can, rather than fill the silence with empty words.
Still, it's a comfortable silence. Otabek is used to being quiet, and Yuri somehow manages to not get antsy as he is not used to prolonged silence himself. Had it been anyone else though, it would have been different.
They fall asleep on the soft carpet in the living room, Makkachin draped over them like a blanket, just like she'd been draped over Yuri when Otabek had arrived Thursday night.
-
When the alarm goes off in the morning, the silence between them becomes thick, laden with something they can't put into words. It stretches on through breakfast, then through Otabek finishing packing (and not letting Yuri know he knows Yuri stole a sweater and a shirt from his bag, nor saying he replaced the items with some of Yuri's own clothes), until finally Yuri can't stay quiet anymore.
"You could stay, you know. They're too busy with each other to even notice you'd still be here."
There's almost something child-like about Yuri's behaviour, the way his voice is low and uncertain, the way he clings to the bottom of Otabek's t-shirt, and it puts him on edge. This Yuri is so different from the one that's initiated contact during the weekend they've just had.
"I'm not leaving you."
"Still feels like it."
"I'm never leaving you, Yura."
"You can't say that. You don't know, you can't promise."
Otabek pulls him into a tight hug, breathing in the scent of his hair, kissing his forehead.
"You don't know that either, Yura. It's not that far, nor that long. You're always welcome in Almaty, no matter when or why."
Yuri sniffles against him, hugs him tighter and then lets go.
"Okay." He wipes at his eyes. "Call me when you get there."
"I will." A small smile barely turns up the corners of Otabek's lips, and then he is gone.
The silence Yuri is left with once the door closes is deafening. In a matter of hours, it'll be filled with Victor's loud voice, Katsudon's laughter and Makkachins happy barks at having her owners home again.
Tired for more than one reason, Yuri puts on one of Otabek's hoodies and falls asleep on the sofa, cuddling Makkachin.
It's how Victor and Yuuri finds him when they arrive home, hours later. The pair smile at one another; soft smiles of understanding, already plotting a way to have Yuri and Otabek meet again as soon as possible.