A/N: My longest chapter for this story (so far)! Over 3,000 words. I can't tell if that's too long, by it didn't seem right chopping this chapter into two different ones without it coming off as an awkward pause. Eh.
Enjoy the long read! I worked really hard on it!
Chapter 4
It's hard returning to the rink for the first time nearly two months since the miscarriage. The doctor cleared me to resume sports training and, while I am physically well, it's the mental aspect that's slow in catching up. In the first stages of pregnancy, I took care to be mindful of any falls I took on the ice. Viktor especially. He hovered like an overprotective parent to make sure any attempt at a skill wouldn't end with particularly hard hits to the belly. Now, I have to turn that mindset off.
There is also the whole public thing. I don't smell pregnant anymore, and certainly no longer look the part. I catch the moment when others do double takes at my missing belly. Or whisper amongst themselves when they believe I'm out of earshot. Sure, I can't really hear the barely-audible Russian anyway. But that doesn't mean I can't guess the subject of gossip.
As the days went by, I assumed I would become old news. Less stares, less whispers. Life continuing on as normal. Which, in a way, might almost feel more terrible than the miscarriage itself; in a fleeting moment, the child I lost becoming an afterthought and world continuing to spin without a beat.
Such a waste.
But no, that is not what happens. To my face, people give me words of consolation. But when they think I cannot hear, the Russian words for 'abortion' go uttered between groups of friends. It doesn't matter that they do not say it to my face, I've already seen the tabloids online, all various titles in various languages but with the same common theme. They all think I did this on purpose, that all these miscarriages aren't accidents at all, but abortions done on purpose just so I could skate a little longer. After all, pregnant omegas cannot compete in any sport. But I would never, ever snuff out the creation Viktor and I made together. I wanted all my children to live past the first trimester. I did. That the world thinks otherwise...is somehow worse than if people forgot about my pregnancies altogether.
This, compounded with Viktor's now blatant avoidance of anything remotely sexual where I am concerned, gets to my head. My practices are filled with moments where I blank out in the middle of rehearsal, forgetting choreography in pieces or altogether. Or making mistakes on tricks that should be easy for me. Footwork is my strong suit, yet still my errors are plentiful. Viktor is getting frustrated with my frustration, and I am getting frustrated with him for reasons that have nothing to do with the ice. The result is he and I bickering for too much time, in front of too many people when we both vowed to never take our problems in light of the public eye. Yet here we are.
In the middle of practice, Viktor throws up his hands and storms out of the rink, pushing the double doors open with too much force and leaving me behind to fume by myself.
"You'll burn a hole in the ice if you keep staring at that spot."
It's Otabek's voice that pulls me from my dangerous thoughts and back into the here and now. I was so distracted that I somehow missed hearing him skate up beside me. He's fiddling with his phone to pause the music, simultaneously pulling the earphones out of his ears. I'm on the opposite side of the rail, skates on but guards on as well since I'd just come back from lunch.
With a grumble, I pause my stretching to give him my attention. "Good, it'll drown all the disappointments they all have of me."
"Yuuri..." Otabek puts his phone away and cringes at my choice of words. I immediately feel bad.
"Sorry," I say quickly, "I know you don't feel that way. How's your daughter? Yurio said she was sick but I haven't heard much else."
Otabek waves a hand. "Vasilisa is mostly better. She caught the flu. Nasty bug going around her school, but Yuri's kept a good handle on disinfecting the house to prevent us catching and further spreading her bug."
Explains why Yurio isn't here. Sick children can't go to daycare and someone has to care for a miserable, sneezing, coughing child.
He goes on to rant a bit about it, painting a picture in my mind of a short Yurio trying and failing to spray bleach and sanitizer in hard to reach areas with a step stool. And at first I chuckle a bit at the image...but then it fades away into something of a forlorn look. It takes a while, but Otabek notices my silence and goes quiet as well. "What is it? What did I say?"
I shake my head no. "Nothing. Not really," I start. I shrug a bit. "I just wonder what all that must be like, is all."
Otabek gives a tight smile, almost looking apologetic. "You'll experience all the sleepless nights soon enough, I'm sure. Enjoy not having a toddler climb into your bed in the middle of the night to interrupt alone time."
"Not that there's any alone time to interrupt," I grumble mostly to myself in frustration.
I didn't think Beka would hear it, but apparently he had and he frowns. "Is that why you and grandpa have been at each other's throats the last week and a half...?"
The tops of my ears feel warm and I duck my head in embarrassment. That's answer enough for him, based on the long sigh he gives.
"It's not really appropriate for me to be talking about this stuff with you as an Alpha that's not yours, you know," Beka starts, talking lower. "But Viktor is getting older. Maybe his drive isn't what it used to be. Maybe spice things up in the bedroom..? Ah.." He rubs the back of his neck and glances around before speaking again more quietly. "Perhaps try some toys, or some lingerie."
The blush on my face deepens to crimson. "We...already do that kinda thing," I mutter. Viktor discovered kink about a year into the relationship and, being accommodating I agreed to explore our likes and dislikes together. As a result of our avid practice sessions, I often found myself on the receiving end of paddles, blindfolds and compromising positions. We had a huge assortment of toys with which to torment and pleasure. Hell, the two of us even experimented with the taboo role-reversal, having him be penetrated instead of me. Not that I was going to say so out loud. As Beka said, it wasn't appropriate for an omega to discuss such things with an Alpha that wasn't their own. Even with our Pairs being as close as they were, it was still kind of taboo. Yura was well aware about our experimentation, though, just as much as much as I was privy to theirs. Still, I wasn't surprised the little blonde kept such news to himself. He was fiercely loyal to guarding the secrets of others.
Otabek rubs the back of his neck. "Then, I guess he just needs time. Have you asked him about it?"
"He just says there's no need to rush, which is true on its own. Except...this isn't normal for us," I say vaguely in regard to the frequency of sex. We had it quite often over the years, several times a week if we could. To now all of a sudden be cold turkey for almost two months was concerning for me.
Beka goes quiet a moment, thinking about what to tell me. "Flip the tables," he suggests. "It's a chancey game, but perhaps trigger his inner-Alpha by trying to exert dominance over him. Growl, nip his neck. That tends to work when Yuratchka does it to me. Now, we really shouldn't keep talking about this, but maybe ask Yura what Omega mind-tricks he has up his sleeve. See what he says, yes?"
I'm all too happy for the subject change. "Thanks anyway, Otabek. Honestly. You and Yurio have been really helpful over the years."
Otabek gives a shrug and then skates backward. "You and your old man helped us when we needed it most. It's the least we can do."
The car ride home couldn't have been any slower. After two and a half months of no sex, I was absolutely dying for some action. I know the public saw me as some innocent, bright eyed youth who probably squirmed away at the idea of anything remotely explicit. They always thought that about omegas of Asian ethnicity. It was probably why we were so prized from the moment we present as the bottom caste of the hierarchy. Both reviled and revered for what we could provide, and what we lacked. And initially that had been the case. That is, until Viktor. I had no way and no reason to explore my sexuality before him. But with him, I'd tried most everything at least once. And came to know exactly what I liked, and exactly what I didn't. Sex wasn't a 'dirty' thing to me anymore, but a beautiful thing.
A beautiful thing I loved to have a lot of.
And now, wasn't getting at all.
I didn't pounce on Viktor immediately, even though every fiber of me wanted to rip off his track suit right there in the garage. Except, well, the garage is freezing cold, so maybe not the best idea.
So I wait most impatiently for us to get inside and peel off our sweaty clothes, and heat up over cups of hot chocolate I prepare for both of us. Makkachin sits quietly by both our feet, presumably fast asleep despite Viktor and I conversing none too quietly. I guess old age makes him able to sleep through most anything these days.
Viktor is the first to get up from his seat on the stool. He's already aiming to wash his mug immediately, but I get up and put my hand on his before he can open the faucet. "I'll do it, Vitya. You can shower first, ok?"
His smile is a genuine one. When he kisses the top of my head, I swear it warms me all the way to my toes. "Okay," he says, letting my go and making his way quite slowly up the stairs. I almost worry he might be too tired for what I have planned.
I don't wash our mugs, simply waiting until I hear the shower on the second floor turn on before chucking the two cups into the dishwasher. As if I was going waste our perfectly functioning appliance! We paid an ungodly amount of money for this house and I was going to make damn sure we utilized every penny spent!
I eventually make my own way upstairs and into our master bedroom, stripping out of my clothes and tossing them into the laundry hamper. Choosing to remain nude, I pad across the carpet, through the large walk-in closet, and finally peek into the steamy bathroom. It smells piney due to the body soap Viktor always buys. I find the shower surprisingly empty and discover Viktor opted for the bath this go 'round. Initially I planned to join him in the shower, but this is fine too.
Viktor is almost entirely submerged in the steaming water, long hair wet and slicked back out of his face. His head is tilted back against a towel, eyes closed. His arms rest on either side of the large tub, legs bent and spread at the knees. He doesn't notice I've come inside yet, partly because I'm not a particularly heavy walker and partly because he wasn't expecting company. And he doesn't catch on until I'm already dipping one foot into the tub.
His eyes open, and then widen as I lower into the water. "Yuuri-"
"Ssh." I glide across the tub and settle between his legs, hands on his chest while I close the distance between us.
"Yuuri...?" he mumbles against my lips.
"Hm?" I'm not really answering, but not really ignoring him either. More of an acknowledgment that I'd heard him but wasn't interested in talking. I needed actions, not words. He didn't object to the kiss, but he didn't spice up the kiss either. He kept them clean, neat and sweet.
I didn't want clean, neat or sweet.
My face dipped to his neck, nudging his chin on of the way for better access to his jugular. I wouldn't dare bite: Alphas didn't like that. Not usually. And I didn't want to kill the mood before it really got started by choosing this exact moment to experiment as Beka suggested. So I opt for lazy swirls of my tongue between suction. I knew well that he'd probably be forced to wear a scarf tomorrow to the rink, being the pale man he was.
My head rose again to his face to steal more kisses, seeking to taste him. To feel his tongue against mine in a power dynamic I never fought for.
"Yuuri...Yuuri, love, stop," Viktor said. He raised his hands to either side of my face to physically stop me and I blinked at him in confusion.
I guess the one to end the mood would be him before it ever got started. Now more irritated than aroused, my hands slip beneath the water between us to see if he'd even been brought to a hint of arousal by the proximity of our nude bodies and my ministrations. He flinches at the sudden grab to his privates, and I find almost to my horror that Viktor is limp.
A one-sided desire? With my own husband? I pull back out of his grasp with a blank expression, already making ready to step out of the tub again. This was a mistake.
The sound of water sloshing behind doesn't stop me, though I know it's Viktor coming out to get my attention. When he reaches out to hold my wrist, I shake him off; grab my towel, and leave the bathroom entirely to back the way in came in. I thought Viktor might leave me alone after that but apparently he, too, decides to cut his bath short.
"Damnit, Yuuri, let me talk to you," he says, now forcefully turning my around by the shoulders in the corridor of our walk-in. "What is going on?"
I brush his hands off. "You cannot be so stupid, so blind to not notice that I have been trying for weeks to get your attention, for you to even touch me. For months, Viktor. Months. What the hell is going on?"
He grabs my shoulders this time, but now I completely lift them off and take a very clear step backward. I'm not done talking. "I've never been the initiator of our intimacy, Viktor. Not ever. I'm too shy to. In all these years, outside of my heats I only ever hinted when I wanted sex so that you might get a move on. But now you're denying me. And have been denying my for months. Why?"
I pause, but before he can answer, I find myself word vomiting. "Do you not find me attractive anymore? Is it because I've gained weight? I'll lose it, just gimmie some time. But goddamn it Viktor, that's not a good enough reason to brush off someone who's married to you!"
"Yuuri, God no, I could never find you unattractive!" he says. "That isn't why—"
"You're lying," I say. I will not cry. I will not cry! "You weren't even a little bit hard. Not even a tad." My face crumples a bit. I cannot cry! "Who is she? Or he? There's another omega, isn't there. Or is it a beta?"
"Jesus Christ, Yuuri!" Viktor jerks back as if burned but I don't take back my words, willing him to counter my accusations. Wishing he would tell me something else that made more sense.
"Have you been sleeping with someone else?" I ask again. "Because you've gone from regularly scheduled sex, to none at all when we made a promise to try for a child again. That does not happen without sex."
"Yuuri, don't be ridiculous. You would have smelled it on me if there was someone else."
I scoff, not believing him. "Scent dampeners exist for pretty cheap, Viktor. Your sudden lack of appetite can only be explained by you getting it sated elsewhere."
Viktor's expression goes dark. "I am not cheating on you. I just..." With a sigh he rubs his face with his hands, then drops them to his sides, eyes closed.
Already, I don't want to hear anything he might have to say. "Save it."
And damnit, I start crying. I choose that moment to turn around and walk away, this time blasting hormones warning him not to follow me. That could happen sometimes if an omega was emotionally charged enough. Essentially a wall of pheromones that screamed 'touch me, and you'll regret it.' I could count on one hand how many times I'd done that in my life. And this was the first time with my own mate.
I'd been craving his touch for this entire time, and now, I just wanted to be alone. Thankfully, this house is big enough that we can go without seeing one another if we really wanted to, under the same roof. I take some of my stuff to the guest room, and quite loudly, lock the door.
When I finally get the alone time, I immediately start rearranging some items until I feel at ease before I curl up in the bed and unlock my phone. In my contacts, my finger hovers over my sister's name. We spoke every so often, but I usually kept my relationship issues in the dark. It was something Viktor and I always strived to do—not involving family in our personal problems. Because once you forgave your partner, your family was usually still stuck on hating them.
But I couldn't very well appear in Hasetsu without Viktor and without an explanation. Mari would know something was up, and lying was something I hated to do.
With a sigh, I dial up the Japanese number and quickly tell her I'd be coming home for a little while, simply saying I missed them and needed a little space from Russia.
It was enough. And after I hang up, I fall into an uneasy sleep.
A/N: Review!
