A rough hand was closed around Yuri's throat, his head thrown carelessly on the pillow fanning his hair in a golden halo. He felt feather light kisses being peppered on his chest and arched into the careful touches that contradicted the still unmoving hand pinning his neck. Small mewling sounds escaped Yuri without any volition, the young Russian opened his eyes to see the dark tresses of Otabek hovering below his chin. The older Kazakh used the leverage his hand provided to press Yuri's thin frame into his sheets. Otabek looked up at Yuri, a pulse pounding excitement coursing through him as those dark eyes promised something fulfilling and enticingly dirty.
"You feeling good, my little kitten?" Otabek purred at him, throaty and almost pained sounding.
"Yes, Sir." Yuri moaned.
Yuri jolted awake, the husky moan echoing in his mind even as he noted the unfiltered sunshine streaming in through the windows. It was morning. More importantly, he was just dreaming about Otabek, dreaming about Otabek calling him his little kitten. The flush that painted his cheeks was hot and spread down his throat with a wild abandon. His green eyes gave a quick flash to the tent in the sheets, Yuri's erection stood tall and proud like a shameful beacon.
He growled at his traitorous mind and for the stifling frustration that pounded in his veins. Potya meowed at Yuri, the feline noticing he was awake and wanting attention. Yuri scooped the cat into his arms, he buried his face in her fur in an effort to dispel the remnants of the dream.
It was then that Yuri heard voices and movement coming from the kitchen. He guessed that Mila had finally made her way back home after romping around with that Canadian hockey player she was dating. With a groan Yuri hefted himself off the bed and padded down the hallway into the small kitchen where Otabek and Mila were standing shoulder to shoulder over the stove. The prick of jealousy was there before Yuri could control it.
"Good morning, Yura." Otabek smiled at him and Yuri's stomach tightened, his mind going back to the dream.
"Morning." He huffed, already red faced.
"Aw Yuri, you're blushing." Mila said as she sauntered over and pinched a flushed cheek.
"Hands off, you hag!" Yuri spat, bounding away from the ginger haired female and opening the fridge in a lame attempt to hide his face.
"You're such a feral little kitten." Came Mila's reply and it made the hairs on Yuri's arm bristle. There was no way she could have known about the dream, but that didn't stop the unease from settling in between his shoulders.
Otabek was suddenly standing behind him, Yuri froze as one of the Kazakh's hands reached over his head to grab eggs. Yuri could feel Otabek's breath tickling his neck and while it didn't last long enough for him to combust, the young Russian found this morning to be too much of an overload and he hadn't even been awake for half an hour yet. Yuri heard Otabek chuckle as he walked back to the stove, an almost triumphant look on his smug face.
Yuri gulped, on edge and feeling like things were only going to get worse from here. He closed the fridge and stomped to the kitchen table, a cup of plain yogurt in his hands.
"How do you like your eggs, Yura?" Otabek's rich voice grabbed his attention immediately and Yuri had to dispel the thought that he was being obedient.
"S-Scrambled, please." Yuri cursed himself for stuttering.
In the corner of the kitchen Mila's eyes widened, her pink painted lips parting with a knowing smile. Yuri and Otabek didn't notice her private realization, she feigned a slight panic at being late for practice and rushed out the front door without bothering to look at either of the boys.
Neither Yuri nor Otabek noticed Mila's odd behavior, neither even watching as she left. Yuri was trying to envision himself choking on his yogurt and dying while Otabek was occupied plating breakfast. The older skater walked two plates over to the table before taking a seat next to an incredibly flustered GPF Gold medalist. Yuri's face was flushed and his eyes were looking anywhere but at his best friend, Otabek frowned.
"You okay?" Otabek seemed worried, the concern plainly seen in his dark eyes made Yuri's chest ache.
"I'm fine!"
The hasty response wasn't very convincing and Otabek wasted no time in grabbing Yuri's hand in a misguided attempt at reassurance.The blond jumped at the sudden intimacy, but Otabek, ever oblivious, just threaded his fingers with Yuri's much smaller ones.
"You don't have to tell me. You don't have to think about it if you would rather not. We can talk about something else." The deep, almost whispered words were swimming in sincerity.
Yuri locked eyes with the dark haired skater, a resounding emotion gleaming in the depths of his jeweled orbs. Otabek was being patient with him, Otabek knew that after kissing him last night there was going to be a residual awkwardness. Yuri was never good with expressing himself through affection or touching, the only person who he could openly be affectionate with was his Grandfather. Of course Otabek knew this, Otabek knew everything about him. That thought sank heavy in Yuri's heart.
"Okay, let's talk about something else. Thank you for making me breakfast." Yuri smiled down at the plate in front of him and picked up a fork.
Otabek shrugged his shoulders, looking slightly sheepish. "I like cooking." He shrugged again.
Yuri nodded at him as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. Otabek smirked at him and picked up his own fork. The pair sat in companionable silence, appreciating the first of many breakfasts to be eaten together in their apartment. Yuri finished first and waited patiently for Otabek to finish so he could collect his plate to deposit in the sink. When Yuri turned to face his Roommate he noticed a strange apprehensive expression etched on the dark haired skater's handsome face. Otabek's eyes pinned him to the spot, he stood and Yuri saw the faintest blush just barely dusting the Kazakh's ears.
"Yura, can I show you a song? I found it last night before falling asleep and- well, it makes me think of you." Otabek stuffed his hands in his pockets, the small tinge of color on his ears blooming to life on his cheeks.
--Author's Note--
Boom! i'm back with a new chapter of my guilty gay pleasure folks. After that sweet forehead kiss you already know it's just gonna get fluffier from here! I wrote this chapter all hyped on fanart so excuse me if I got a little excited and have some errors, will do another proof read later.
Any guesses on the song Ota is gonna show Yuri?
I thrive on your feedback so tell me how i'm doing on my first fanfiction rodeo.
