Chapter 2: When I Think About You I Touch Myself

Yuri had been masturbating a lot recently. It was the first thing he did waking up each morning and the last thing he did before going to bed. He would touch himself in the shower, after practice, and even during breaks if he got the chance. And always, always to thoughts of Otabek.

It seemed excessive. He was beginning to think he had a problem.

He thought about calling his grandpa, but dismissed that idea almost as soon as it formed. What exactly was he supposed to say? Hey gramps, can I get your advice? I've been pretty distracted recently... About what? Well, I've been thinking about fucking my 18 year-old figure skating friend. Also, I'm gay...

Yeah, that was never going to happen.

Of course, he couldn't talk to Yakov or Lilia. The idea of either his coach or his choreographer finding out about his new favorite pastime sent him into a shame spiral. Perhaps the real problem was that he didn't have any friends who might be able to relate to what he was going through. The demands of his practice schedule and frequent international trips meant that he had been home-schooled for most of his life. The only person he knew close to his own age was Mila, and he didn't think he could share something like this with a girl.

If it had been any other problem, he would have gone to Otabek for advice. But this was the one thing he and Otabek could never talk about. Yuri could just imagine texting him: So whenever I think of you I get this irresistible urge to masturbate. Thoughts?

Yuri snorted with laughter. He was almost tempted to text Otabek after all, if only to see how he would respond. But knowing Otabek, his response would be something crushingly direct, like please stop or I don't want to be friends anymore.

If he said something like that, Yuri would die.

And so Yuri really had no choice but to keep at it, because without the regular release he got through masturbation, he just couldn't focus on his skating.

Today was no different. He had managed to slip out during the middle of practice while Yakov was distracted with the other skaters. He hid in a bathroom stall, and started thinking about Otabek's hands. Would they be smooth? Or rough and calloused from working on his bike? The second idea was more exciting somehow, and Yuri pictured Otabek's rough hands running over his skin as he gently pulled... no... ripped Yuri's clothes from his body.

Yuri held the bottom of edge of his shirt between his teeth. It was partly to ensure he didn't get it dirty, but mostly a precaution against crying out in the public restroom. Doing this sort of thing in public had its charms, because the fear of being caught filled him with adrenaline and added to his excitement. His heart was pounding as he reached between his legs and gripped his own cock.

He was already hard. A few strokes was all it took for him to be fully erect. Even with his shirt clutched tightly between his teeth, he couldn't keep himself from panting with arousal as he continued to imagine Otabek's hands, picturing the look on his face as Yuri took his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them one by one...

The bathroom door slammed open, and Yuri heard voices. His shirt fell back over his stomach, partially concealing his member, while his free hand flew up to his mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise.

The voices continued in Japanese.

"W-Wait, Victor! This is the bathroom!"

"This is fine, no one else is here..."

Yuri's boner went limp instantly. Those. Fucking. Homos! Yuri wiped his hand off on some toilet paper and quickly stuffed his prick back in his pants. His shirt was a little damp with saliva, but the material was dark, so no one would notice. As he rearranged his appearance and pressed his hands to his face in an attempt to cool his flushed cheeks, Victor and the Japanese Yuuri continued their conversation.

"Victor! This isn't right! Someone might come..."

"Yuuri... I don't want to wait! You landed that quadruple salchow so perfectly... Don't you want your reward?"

"Well, yes... But can't it wait till – mmff!"

Yuri had heard enough. Kicking his stall door open with a loud bang, he stalked out and glared at the couple. Victor and Yuuri Katsuki had jumped apart instantly, though only Yuuri had enough sense to look ashamed. Victor merely smiled at Yuri and said "Oh! I didn't know you were in here, Yurio."

Yuri scowled. "Idiots! You live together! Can't you wait to do perverted stuff at home?"

He didn't bother to wait for a response. He just wanted to make a hasty retreat. Yuuri Katsuki seemed humiliated enough for his satisfaction, though he did hear Victor exclaim, "How awful! Yurio didn't wash his hands!" as he made his way back to practice.

Yuri was now more frustrated than he had been before his break. It wasn't fun to be interrupted before his climax.

"This sucks!" Yuri said aloud, causing several nearby skaters to jump in surprise. Yuri ignored them, pulling on his skates and returning to the ice, hoping that the physical activity might help him calm down.

It was no good. He was still too distracted. He couldn't land any of his jumps and Yakov kept shouting at him. To make matters worse, Victor had returned with the Pig. Apparently Yuri had killed the mood when he interrupted their little tryst. Yuri was glad he wasn't the only one disappointed in his sexual endeavors today, but now he had to watch Victor, Yakov's prodigal son, take his place on the ice and deliver another flawless routine.

It was just practice, but when Victor was skating, you couldn't take your eyes off him. Yuri had beaten him at Nationals, but Victor had laughingly said that he was just a bit rusty from taking time off. While Yuri had given everything he had in his first match against Victor, the older skater had treated Nationals as a warm-up. In the end, Yuri had beaten him by only a few points.

He should have been thinking about how he could improve his performance to ensure he stayed a step ahead of Victor, but instead his mind drifted toward thoughts of the other Yuuri. Now that he thought about it, Victor and the Pig were the only gay couple he knew. Yuuri Katsuki had moved into Victor's apartment in St. Petersburg on the pretext of allowing Victor to remain his coach while Victor trained under Yakov. Of course, Victor was such a useless instructor that the Pig received most of his tutelage from Yakov himself. It irritated Yuri to have to share his rink and his time with Victor and his boyfriend. It irritated him even more to see them constantly flirting with each other.

They were at it again. Victor, finished with his practice routine, ignored Yakov's instruction and glided across the ice toward the Pig, who was watching him from the side of the rink. They stood together, hands clasped and fingers laced, as Victor shamelessly pleaded for praise. Yuri rolled his eyes and dove into his gym bag, searching for his phone, desperate for a distraction.

Naturally, he texted Otabek.

Hey. What are you doing?

He was worried Otabek would be in practice again, that maybe he wouldn't respond for hours, but to his relief, he got a text right away.

Working on the bike.

Do not think about him covered in grease... Yuri silently chided himself, though it was hard to resist the thought of Otabek dressed in loose-fitting coveralls over a tight black t-shirt, hair tousled and face a little dirtied from where he had wiped the sweat from his brow...

"Are you texting that Kazakh skater?" asked a voice in Japanese.

Yuri's head snapped up in surprise. He hadn't even noticed Yuuri Katsuki approaching. When his initial shock had faded and he realized what Yuuri had asked, he could feel himself reddening with embarrassment.

"No," he lied reflexively, hardly knowing why, "What makes you say that?"

"You were smiling," said Yuuri with a gentle shrug of his shoulders, "Usually when you're on your phone you're just scrolling through Twitter so you can pretend to be busy and not talk to anyone. But this time you were smiling. I thought you might be talking with Altin. You're friends, right?"

"Since when did you become such an expert on me?" Yuri sneered, hiding his embarrassment under a thick layer of scorn.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean anything by it..."

He was fumbling for something to say, but Yuri was already bored with him. His phone vibrated in his hand, alerting him to another message from Otabek, but he felt like he couldn't check it in front of the Pig.

"Did you want something?" he asked, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice.

He expected Katsuki to be cowed by his obvious irritation. He wasn't prepared for the Pig to draw himself up, look him in the eye, and say, "I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. When Victor and I ran into you in the restroom. I know that the relationship he and I have makes you feel... uncomfortable. You're right, we shouldn't have been doing something like that in a public place."

Oddly, it was Yuri who felt embarrassed. He couldn't help but feel that Katsuki was misunderstanding something about Yuri's dislike for him.

"It doesn't bother me that you're both guys," he heard himself say. "You could be a girl and I still wouldn't think you're good enough for Victor."

"O-Oh... Really?"

"Tell me something, Piggy," Yuri said, standing so that he could be closer to Katsuki's eye level, "How did a last-place loser like you manage to make a world champion like Victor Nikiforov fall in love with you?"

Katsuki turned as pink as the pig for which Yuri had nicknamed him. "I... I don't know..."

"Well, then who made the first move?"

"Um... I don't really know that either..."

"Come on. Something must have happened to make it official. Was it the rings?

"T-those were just a good luck charm!"

"Bullshit. Victor hasn't taken his off since you gave it to him. So is that it? Or did you seduce him when you got naked at that gala party?"

"... I don't really remember anything from that night!"

"I mean that must have been it. Why else would he fly out to Japan to coach you? But how did things progress from there? What happened after our Hot Spring on Ice skate-off? What did you do to keep him interested?"

He hadn't meant to turn this into an interrogation. But as they were talking, he really started to get curious about how the relationship between the two skaters was formed. All that ground to a halt when the Pig said, "Are you sure this isn't about that Kazakh skater?"

The question was so sudden that Yuri was caught off guard.

"No!" he shouted, his response a little too loud and a little too hurried. Katsuki broke into a grin as he continued to stare at him.

"Yurio... Do you like him?"

"My name isn't Yurio!" he snarled, desperate to change the subject, but Katsuki continued to smile. Yuri wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. How had the Pig guessed what he was feeling?

"Your secret is safe with me, Yurio," Katsuki said. To Yuri's horror, he reached out and gripped one of Yuri's hands in both of his own. "You know you can talk to me, if you want."

Yuri ripped his hand away. He was so flustered he could have hit Katsuki, but he managed to restrain himself.

"Shut up. You're wrong. And if you tell anyone that I... If you say anything, I'll kill you."

Far from looking intimidated, Katsuki couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face. If Yuri looked at him any longer, he really would punch him, so instead he turned on his heel and stalked away, kicking a trashcan over for good measure as the left the skating rink.

He didn't bother to change out of his practice gear. He simply marched straight home, taking big gulps of the frigid winter air as he walked. He didn't know if he could trust the Pig to keep his mouth shut, but it wasn't like he had any proof, anyway. Yuri could always deny it if anyone else asked.

There was a part of him that realized Yuuri Katsuki might be the only person he could talk to now. Probably the only person who would understand him. But he would sooner die than ask that Pig for sex advice.

It wasn't until he got home that he finally checked the message Otabek had sent him. It was a selfie of himself next to his bike. He was wearing an oil-stained sweatshirt, not coveralls, but there was a slight smudge of grease along his hairline, just as Yuri had imagined.

"Damn." Yuri groaned. Then he locked himself in the bathroom to finish what he had started at practice.