Author's Note: And so begins Part 2 of Age of Consent - Otabek's Perspective. In order to get a clearer view of what daily life is like for Otabek, I had to create a couple of OC's to populate his world. I was inspired by Kubo-sensei's statement that Otabek has "mischievous friends." Hopefully you'll find their addition enjoyable, and not a detraction from the Yuri/Otabek romance that is the focus of this whole thing. Happy reading. - jinxauthor

Chapter 10: Prelude

He brought his trembling feet to the edge of the rink. Even with the skates laced tight for support, he felt wobbly, like the slightest movement would shatter his ankles. He wasn't even on the ice, but the threat of falling was very present in his mind. He hesitated at the entrance, hands gripping the railing on either side.

"You can do this," he said bracingly, "It's just a little ice! Nothing to be afraid of."

He took a deep breath, pushed himself into the rink, and promptly fell on his face.

"Ha! Did you see that?!" Akerke whooped, tossing her aqua-colored hair over her shoulder. "Serik bites the ice again!"

Not hearing a response, she turned to look at her silent companion. Otabek was on his phone, completely distracted.

"O-ta-bek!" she said loudly, enunciating each syllable for emphasis. The dark-haired boy only grunted in response. "Are you even paying attention?"

"What?"

"You missed it! Serik just had a magnificent wipe-out on the ice!"

"He always does that," Otabek said carelessly, though he managed to pull his face away from his phone long enough to observe their mutual friend, still sprawled on the ice and failing his limbs helplessly, "You'd better go help him before he hurts himself."

Akerke eyed him curiously, then with a shrug left to rescue the poor, pathetic man on the ice. Otabek watched them long enough to see Serik safely returned to his feet, but once Akerke began slowly leading him around by his hands, he quietly returned to his phone.

"Now, that's a new expression."

He had no idea how long he'd been distracted this time, but when he looked up, it was to see Serik leaning toward him over the half-wall. He was trying to appear casual, though Otabek could tell his friend needed to rest on something to maintain his balance. He and Akerke were watching him now, both with impish grins on their faces. Otabek carefully rearranged his features into a mask of indifference before asking, "What expression?"

"You can't fool us!" Akerke said. Being more confident in skates than Serik, she was able to point an accusatory finger across the barrier into Otabek's face, "Who are you texting? We want details!"

"I'm not texting anyone," Otabek replied truthfully.

"Then what's with that grin?"

"I was just scrolling through Instagram..."

"What?!" Serik shouted, nearly tumbling to ground again. "But you hate social media!"

Otabek felt that his reaction was a bit over-dramatic, but he didn't say as much. "I never said I hated it..."

"Um, I'm sorry, but yes you did," Akerke interjected, "Something about being too impersonal and being more about followers than friends?"

"No, no," corrected Serik, "I believe it was his inability to decipher a person's meaning from text alone."

"Sarcasm tripping him up again?" Akerke speculated, a finger tapping her chin.

Otabek relented. "OK. You both win. I did hate it. But it's not as bad as I thought."

"So why the sudden change of heart?" Akerke asked, though Serik was muttering under his breath, "I already know the answer..."

"Well, Yuri has an account so..."

"Ah ha! I knew it!" Serik crowed before Otabek had time to finish his statement. This time he really did fall to the ice. Otabek hoped he hurt his tailbone, then immediately felt guilty. To restore his Karma, put his phone down, removed his skate guards, and entered the rink himself. With Akerke's help, he soon had Serik on his feet again.

"Yuri... Always Yuri..." he was saying, "What is it with you and this kid?"

"I like him," Otabek said simply. Akerke made a sort of strangled squealing sound, so he added, "As as friend."

Akerke uttered a disappointed groan. Otabek thought it was best to ignore her.

"Are you still texting him every day?" Serik asked.

"Since Barcelona."

"What could you possibly have to talk about every single day?"

"Skating mostly. He just took first place at the Russian Nationals and he's looking good for the European Championship. I'm a little worried about Viktor Nikiforov, though. He's on the Russian team as well, but I really think he's Yuri's biggest competition right now. I think if he were to work on music interpretation rather than his technical score..."

"Beck, Beck! Slow your roll, dude!" Serik pleaded, lifting his hands as if to defend himself from the onslaught of Otabek's sudden monologue.

"I'm sorry. Was I talking to much?" Otabek asked with a tone of surprise. No one had ever asked him to speak less before.

"It's fine... I mean, it's not like you're usually a chatterbox," Serik said, mirroring Otabek's own thoughts.

"Maybe it would be better to focus a little less on Yuri Plisetsky, and a little more on our own Otabek Altin?" suggested Akerke. "How about a little demonstration?"

"Yeah, why don't you show us how it's done?" added Serik.

Otabek shrugged. "Well... Since I'm already on the ice..."

The community rink was open to the public today, though most visitors congregated near the edge, traveling in a slow-moving circle. Otabek effortlessly weaved his way through them toward center ice, which was nearly empty but for a few of the bolder skaters. They quickly cleared a space for him. Apparently they recognized the Hero of Kazakhstan.

The music being pumped through the arena's speakers was a generic pop song that Otabek didn't recognize. Still, it had a fast beat he could move to, and he used it to freestyle for a spell. He disliked doing anything too flashy in the public eye, so he limited himself to a few spins and step sequences. The physical activity would be a good warm-up to his real practice later that afternoon.

When the thought he'd made enough of a spectacle of himself to satisfy his friends, he returned to the edge of the rink, waving to the skaters who applauded his brief performance as he went. Akerke was among the fans who clapped for him, though Serik was looking at him with a sullen expression.

"I just don't get it," he said as Otabek left the rink and began unlacing his skates. "With your athleticism, you could have played any sport you wanted. And you picked figure skating...?"

"Skating calms me down." Otabek said by way of explanation.

"Right. And we all know how wild and spastic you are usually."

Akerke came to Otabek's defense, "He's being serious, Serik. You've only known him for a couple of years, but we went to grade school together. Trust me when I say that Beck wasn't always the master of Zen you see before you now."

"I'm not Buddhist," said Otabek.

Serik glanced at Otabek's serious expression and turned his skeptical eye to Akerke, "Yeah, I'm not buying it."

"It's true! Like this one time, when these kids were bullying me..."

He figured if they were going to start gossiping about his past, then it should be safe for him to check his phone again. It came as no surprise that he had a message from Yuri.

Hey. You busy?

Otabek glanced at his two friends. Akerke was busy pantomiming some alleged altercation between Otabek and the bullies she had probably invented for Serik's amusement. He returned his attention to his phone and responded.

Nope. What's up?

Since he'd received the text while he'd been on he ice, he wasn't sure if Yuri was still near his phone. But it would be fine either way. With their different training schedules, a single conversation sometimes spread over an entire day, one message at a time. But he wouldn't have to wait. Yuri sent the next message right away.

I leave for Euro Championship tomorrow.

He was in the process of typing a message to let Yuri know he was looking forward to his performance, when a second message came in.

Yakov's making me share a room with Viktor.

Otabek quickly deleted his draft and typed out a question instead.

What about Katsuki?

The Pig isn't coming with.

Marital troubles? asked Otabek.

They AREN'T married!

They act married.

Don't remind me.

Otabek might have laughed, had not his friends been standing nearby. He didn't want to draw their attention.

I'm sorry I can't be there to see you in person, he typed. Then, struck by sudden inspiration, he sent, Let's share a room at Worlds.

Yuri's next response was so delayed, Otabek thought he might have had to leave for practice. But finally the text came in.

First you have to get to Worlds, stupid! Don't be so cocky!

Otabek couldn't keep the grin from his face.

Same to you.

Akerke's voice brought his attention away from his phone, "What are you humming?"

Otabek lifted his head, careful to smooth the smile from his lips to avoid another bought of teasing, "I was humming?"

"Yes, you were. I liked it. Is it something new you're working on?"

"Not really," Otabek said, realizing that he had been thinking of a song while texting Yuri. He just hadn't realized he'd been humming the tune aloud. "It's just... something I've been playing around with."

Akerke shrugged it off, and Otabek said no more about it, but the song continued to play in his head as he gathered up his things and followed his friends out of the ice rink.