NOTE BEFORE READING: This story is meant to be taking place during the current skating season (20-21), although obviously an alternate reality version of it, since there's no virus to disrupt things. Four Continents, before it was canceled, was originally scheduled to take place in Sydney, Australia this coming February, but since it's an AR season anyway, I decided to take creative license and moved it to Las Vegas for thematic and time difference reasons. FYI, Otabek is 22, JJ is 23, and Yuri is 19, about to be 20 in a month.

What Happens In Vegas

Otabek should have been happy.

He had just won Four Continents, his first international championship title, with two of the best skates of his career, yet it was difficult to feel truly victorious when his biggest rival (aside from Yuri) had completely bombed the competition. JJ Leroy hadn't even made the podium, placing all the way down in a surprising seventh place – his worst placement ever.

"Beka, a title is a title," Yuri assured him over the phone. "JJ skated like shit, and you didn't. Your skates were amazing. You deserved to win."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Otabek sighed, running his hands through his uppercut. He kept telling himself that, yet... "The victory just seems...hollow, you know? I wanted to win against him when we both skated our best, not like this."

"Whatever. At least he finally got the scores he deserved for a crappy skate. Whenever I think back to how that jerk stole your bronze in Barcelona…"

Four years, and Yuri still refused to let go of what happened at the 2016 Grand Prix Final. "Yura, come on. That's ancient history. It wasn't JJ's fault that the judges held him up on reputation."

"Please. You're too fucking nice, you know that?"

The corners of Otabek's mouth quirked into a slight smile. "So you've told me before. Sometimes, I think you only want me to be nice to you."

"Is that so wrong?"

"Don't worry." After glancing around to make certain none of the other skaters attending the post-competition banquet were within earshot, Otabek lowered his voice. "I plan to be very nice to you after I win Worlds next month."

"Oh, cocky, aren't we?"

Feeling the stirrings of an arousal as he thought of what he planned to do to Yuri the next time they saw each other in person, Otabek couldn't resist smirking. "In more ways than one."

"Oh, fuck, Beka," Yuri said. "Don't say things like that when I have my first practice session in… Oh, shit, ten minutes! I gotta go, or Yakov's gonna kick my ass."

Otabek chuckled. "Okay. Don't let me keep you."

"Congrats again. You would have deserved the win even if JJ had skated his best."

He wasn't so certain about that, but he appreciated the thought all the same. "Thanks. Sometimes, I think I'm the only person you're nice to."

"You're only realizing that now?" Yuri asked, laughing. "Anyway, call you after dinner?

Otabek quickly did the math in his head. Yuri normally ate around six, so taking into account the eleven hour time difference between St. Petersburg and Las Vegas, he would probably call around the time Otabek planned to wake up in the morning. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"Oh, you don't even know what kind of plans I have…" Yuri teased flirtatiously, causing Otabek to inhale a sharp breath and hit the back of his head against the wall.

"Fuck."

"If only you weren't, like, a million miles away."

"Yeah…" Otabek sighed, thinking along the same lines. It had been far too long, but it was what it was. Living and training in different countries, they had to take what they could get. "Anyway, you better get going."

"Oh, right. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, later. Have a good practice. Oh, and Yura?

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

After ending the call, Otabek slipped the phone back into the pocket of his leather blazer and emerged from his hiding place behind a large potted palm tree in the corner of the banquet hall. Dinner had ended about thirty minutes ago, so most of the guests were mingling and socializing amongst themselves. Otabek's eyes roamed around the room, searching for JJ, but he was nowhere in sight. He hadn't seen the Canadian champ since the conclusion of the free skate earlier that afternoon, as JJ hadn't been invited to participate in the gala – surely, another kick in the gut.

Spotting Leo passing by, holding Guang-Hong's hand as they made their way toward the dance floor, Otabek called out to him. "Leo!"

The two of them turned around. "Hey, Beka. What's up?" Leo asked as Otabek walked over.

"Have either of you seen JJ around?"

Leo frowned, tilting his head to the side. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I have. Guang-Hong?"

Beside him, Guang-Hong shook his head. "Sorry, I haven't seen him either."

"Man, I sure hope he's okay. He hasn't been himself lately. He hasn't posted anything on Instagram since Canadian Nationals. Usually JJ updates at least once a day, so it's definitely out of the ordinary for him."

Otabek hadn't even noticed. Though he had an Instagram account, he rarely checked his feed unless Yuri tagged him in a post he wanted him to see.

"Maybe check with Phichit?" Leo suggested. "He might know something."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll do that," Otabek said. "By the way, congrats on the bronze and landing that quad salchow today. It looked really good." Leo's quads still weren't the most consistent, but Otabek admired his determination.

"Thanks! Congratulations again on winning."

Leaving them, Otabek began searching the room for the men's silver medalist. He found Phichit taking pictures with the sixth place finisher Kenjirou Minami – or rather, Phichit spotted him, waving him over.

"Otabek, get over here! Kenjirou wants a pic of the two of us."

"Oh, uh, okay."

Otabek walked over, Phichit slinging an arm around his shoulder. Never comfortable in front of a camera, he forced an awkward smile as Kenjirou snapped a photo with his phone. "Sorry if it sucks," he preemptively apologized.

"No, it's great. Thanks!" Kenjirou said brightly, cheerful as always. "Oh, there's Da-rae – see you guys later!" Before Otabek even got a chance to ask him if he had seen JJ, Kenjirou took off after the girl from South Korea who had won the ladies' title.

"So, where have you been hiding?" Phichit asked once he was gone. "You're the gold medalist; you should be celebrating!"

"I've been around." Shrugging, Otabek stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Speaking of hiding, though, have you seen JJ? No one seems to know where he is."

"Not since the free skate, no. Must be ditching." He took a sip of champagne. "I don't really blame him. To skate like that when he was the odds-on favorite to win his third straight title, on top of everything else…"

"Wait, what do you mean?"

Realizing his mistake, Phichit almost choked on his next sip. "Huh? What?"

"What's 'everything else'"?

"Oh, you know, just the usual stresses of being King JJ," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Otabek arched an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Phichit, what do you know?"

"It's...not really my place to say anything."

"When has that stopped you before?"

"Hey, you act like I blab everybody's secrets!"

"Weren't you the one that posted that picture of me kissing Yura in Saitama? When we first got together and were trying to keep our relationship on the down low for a while?" Otabek reminded him.

"I've told you a million times how sorry I am about that! If I had known you wanted to keep things quiet, I never –"

"Just tell me what you know about JJ, and we'll call it even."

"Fine, but I want to emphasize this is only a rumor, okay?" Phichit said. "I only heard about it myself from Andre, that ice dancer who trains under JJ's parents. I barely know him, so who knows how trustworthy his info is, but..."

"Phichit."

"Okay, okay." He moved closer to Otabek, taking him by the arm and leading him out of earshot of the people around them. "Andre told me that JJ moved out of the condo last week," Phichit finally confessed, lowering his voice. "He's staying with his parents for now."

Otabek's eyes widened at the implication. "What?"

He had noticed Isabella's absence at the competition, of course, but he hadn't thought much of it, assuming she was busy with school. In hindsight, though, something had seemed off the last time he saw the two of them together at the Grand Prix Final back in December. JJ had won, but rather than Isabella showering him with kisses and compliments as usual, they had only shared a hug in congratulations and barely spent any time together at the banquet, Isabella hanging out with Mila and Sara for most of the evening while JJ had tried to goad him into a drinking contest.

"Apparently, he and Isabella have been having problems for a while now. Even got into a couple of screaming matches at the rink," Phichit said.

"Are they getting a divorce?"

Phichit shrugged. "If things are bad enough that they're no longer living together, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Damn." No wonder JJ had seemed so lifeless during his skates, simply going through the motions with none of his usual "JJ Style" flair.

"Yeah. Don't tell him I said anything, though. And don't tell anybody else, not even Yuri. I know it maybe doesn't mean much coming from me, but JJ deserves to be able to tell people on his own time."

"My lips are sealed," Otabek promised.

Otabek didn't stay too much longer at the banquet, boredom quickly setting in without Yuri in attendance to keep him company. Parties weren't his thing anyway, unless he was playing DJ. He had stayed an hour; that was long enough in his estimation to be considered polite.

He quietly slipped out of the banquet hall and got onto an empty elevator, sighing as he pushed the button for his floor and unknotted his tie. All he wanted to do was take a nice, hot soak in the bath, then climb into bed. The sooner he went to sleep, the faster time would pass until Yuri called him in the morning with whatever special "plans" he had in mind.

Not that it would be enough. It was never truly enough. They made due with sexting, phone calls, and video chats to satisfy their physical urges between infrequent visits and competitions, but Otabek longed to hold Yuri in person once again, to kiss him breathless and strip off all his clothes, to lick and caress his soft skin until Yuri begged him to –

The ding of the elevator reaching the fifth floor interrupted his fantasy. Otabek walked down the hall to his hotel room and pulled out his keycard, but he paused before swiping it through the slot.

JJ's in Suite 507, right? Otabek thought, suddenly recalling he had seen JJ exiting the room yesterday morning, just across the hall and a couple of doors down from his. If he had skipped out of the banquet, then most likely he was holed up in his room. He doubted JJ would have gone out anywhere else, despite all the temptations the Las Vegas nightlife had to offer. He gave off the impression of being a confident, extroverted guy, but whenever JJ was hurting, he had a tendency to wall himself off from others, not wanting people to see his weakness.

Otabek couldn't even imagine how heartbroken he must be. He'd been living with the Leroys, training under JJ's parents, when JJ and Isabella first started dating after meeting in chemistry class. The two of them had been crazy about each other right from the start, almost sickeningly so. Though Otabek had harbored his own secret crush on JJ, even he had thought they were perfect for each other. He still couldn't believe they had separated.

Concerned, he slipped his keycard back into his pocket, then walked over to the door to Suite 507 and lightly knocked. There was no answer.

Perhaps he had remembered incorrectly and the room belonged to one of the other skaters down at the banquet. Otabek decided to try one more time, knocking a little louder. "Hey, JJ, it's me," he said. "If you don't feel like talking, that's fine, but –"

The door swung open, revealing a shirtless JJ with a bottle of beer in his hand. His face broke into a huge grin when he saw Otabek, but there was something plastic about it, the smile not quite reaching his bloodshot eyes.

"Beka, buddy!" He threw his arms around Otabek, hugging him tightly. "Good to see you!"

JJ must have recently taken a shower. His hair was still damp, and the citrusy scent of his Axe body wash tickled Otabek's nose. It was the same one JJ had used as a teenager, bringing back embarrassing memories of when he'd occasionally "borrow" JJ's bottle in the shower in a rather pathetic attempt to get closer to him.

"Uh, JJ…?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." JJ released his hold on him. "Come in, come in! Want a beer?" he asked as Otabek followed him inside his room, closing the door behind him.

Otabek held up a hand, remembering the last banquet. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"Oh, don't be a stick in the mud. One bottle won't hurt," JJ said, already opening the minibar. "Here, catch."

His aim was surprisingly good. Otabek caught the bottle with little trouble, and after a couple of seconds of deliberation, twisted off the cap. JJ walked over and raised up his own half-drunken bottle.

"To your victory," he toasted, clinking their bottles together before taking a drink. "Congratulations. I saw your free. I have to admit, it would have been hard to beat."

"Thanks." Otabek took a sip as well and immediately crinkled his nose; he never had liked the taste of American beer. Still, he didn't want to be rude, aware that JJ was probably paying an arm and a leg for it, so he took another drink and forced it down. "We missed you down at the banquet."

"Yeah, had a headache. Didn't really feel like going, you know?" JJ plopped down on the bed, his smile finally beginning to fade. "Not that I had anything to celebrate, anyway." He ran a hand through his wet hair, letting out a bitter chuckle. "Seventh place. Marde, I don't even remember the last time I placed lower than fourth. I bet everybody's having a real good laugh downstairs."

"No one's laughing, JJ. People are worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?" Otabek asked. "Leo says you haven't posted anything on Instagram lately."

"I decided to take a break for a while. You know how vitriolic some skating fans can be…" JJ swallowed a large gulp of his beer, swiping his arm over his mouth. "You might have the right idea, not getting caught up in the social media craze. It can be more trouble than it's worth."

The golden wedding band he still wore on his left hand caught Otabek's eye.

Otabek frowned. Maybe Phichit's intel was wrong. Maybe JJ and Isabella hadn't broken up and the explanation for his absence on his usual social media accounts was as simple as getting tired of constantly reading awful things about himself on the Internet. Even Yuri, who practically lived for his next Instagram post, had days when he didn't even look at his feeds. Granted, those days were few and far in between, but they did happen on occasion.

"Beka? Hey, Earth to Beka. You there?"

He shook his head, embarrassed to realize he had been staring. To cover it up, he took another drink. "So, how's Isabella?" he asked. "She didn't come with you this time?"

JJ's eyes widened at the question before glancing away.

"Yeah, Bella's doing great," he said, taking another swig from his bottle. "She's started her first year of law school, and she...she…" His voice cracking, JJ brought a hand to cover his mouth. "Dammit."

So the rumor was true, after all… Otabek moved to sit beside him on the bed, placing a hand on JJ's bare back. "JJ?"

Sighing, JJ slumped his broad shoulders and set his beer bottle down on the nearby nightstand. "It's over."

Keeping his promise, he played dumb about what he already knew. Better to let JJ give him the news himself, as Phichit had said. Otabek set his own bottle beside JJ's on the nightstand, then asked, "What's over?"

"My marriage. My life." He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his nose in an effort to stave off his tears. "I've moved back in with my parents."

"I'm sorry." Otabek didn't know what else to say.

"I don't know how it got to this point," JJ said with a shake of his head, his voice strained. "I mean, yeah, we've both been really busy as of late, and it seems like whenever we do find time to be together, we end up fighting over the stupidest things, but… Marriage is forever. That's what we always believed. At least I thought – How could it…" He leaned against Otabek's shoulder, a sob escaping. "Oh, God, Beka, what am I gonna do without her? I can't –"

Otabek wrapped a comforting arm around him, JJ further burying his face in his leather jacket. They weren't as close as they used to be, but it pained his heart to see JJ – confident, amazing JJ, with the dazzling smile that used to make his heart skip a beat when he was younger – like this, so depressed, so utterly...broken. JJ's cries shuddered through his body, his breaths coming in heaving gasps. He gripped the lapels of Otabek's jacket, clinging to Otabek like a child. His leather blazer was no doubt a snotty mess, yet Otabek continued silently consoling him, rubbing soothing circles on JJ's back.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but eventually JJ's sobs began to subside, softening to a whimper. Sniffling, JJ released his grip on Otabek's jacket and swiped his hand over his face, trying to wipe away his tears. There was a box of Kleenex sitting on the nightstand on the other side of the bed; Otabek encouraged JJ to sit back up on his own, then walked over to grab a couple of tissues from the box.

"Here," he said, handing them over.

"Thanks." JJ managed a grateful smile, taking the tissues and using them to wipe his tear-streaked face. "Sorry. I'm a mess. I didn't mean to –"

"No, it's fine. I don't –"

The rest of Otabek's sentence was muffled when JJ leaned back over and, without warning, kissed him on the mouth.

Otabek's brain immediately short-circuited, his entire body freezing from shock. When he finally regained awareness of what was happening, Otabek pulled away. "Jean, what the he–"

"Do you remember that night?"

There was no need to clarify which night. It was one of Otabek's most vivid memories, one that he had replayed in his mind many times over the past seven years despite promising JJ he would forget it had ever happened.

"It started a lot like this, didn't it?" JJ continued. "You comforting me?" His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if afraid someone would overhear despite them being the only two people in the room. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't stopped us from going further." He reached over to brush a strand of hair out of Otabek's eyes. "If we had –"

Otabek cut him off, not letting him finish the forbidden thought. "That was a long time ago. I'm with Yura now, and you and Isabella can still patch things up…"

"I-I don't think we can, Beka. She wants a divorce."

"What about counseling? Maybe if you –"

"We tried. We really did try," he said, shaking his head. "It didn't help. It's over. It's really, really over."

"I'm sorry, JJ. I know how much you loved her, but –"

"I dream about you occasionally, you know?" JJ said, moving closer to him once again. "Once or twice, I even mumbled your name in my sleep." His fingers began unfastening Otabek's dress shirt, fumbling with the tiny buttons. "I tried to convince Bella that she misheard me, that I was moaning her name instead, but I don't think she believed me."

Otabek swallowed, hard, trying his best to ignore the growing arousal inside his pants. "JJ, you shouldn't be telling me this. It's not –"

"Do you ever think of me anymore? Like that?"

It would be a lie to say he hadn't. Not recently, and nowhere near as often as when he was a hormone-riddled horny teenager, but there were certainly moments he slipped and let his mind indulge in forbidden fantasy over the years. Those sexy underwear ads JJ occasionally modeled in for one of his sponsors didn't help matters...

"I love Yura now," Otabek said hoarsely, half to remind himself of that fact. He did love Yuri, more than anything.

"And I still love Bella. But you…" Hesitantly, JJ brought his hand to Otabek's cheek, his thumb tracing along the edge of his cheekbone. "Why haven't I ever been able to completely get you out of my mind? I know I shouldn't, yet…"

He glanced aside. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

"Please. Two bottles is hardly enough to make me drunk," JJ scoffed. "I'm not that much of a lightweight."

No, that was Yuri, and Otabek hated it, because Drunk Yuri was also Adorably Cuddly Yuri, and he refused to take advantage of it even though Yuri kept insisting he wouldn't mind if he did.

"Being long distance must be lonely," JJ continued, dropping his hand to rest upon Otabek's thigh. "When was the last time you were touched by someone other than yourself?"

His hand began slowly inching upwards, Otabek inhaling a sharp breath. "It… It's been a while," he admitted.

As reigning world medalists – Yuri with gold and Otabek with bronze – they had been given different Grand Prix assignments. The Grand Prix Final, which they both easily qualified for, was supposed to be their first competitive meet-up of the season until Yuri withdrew a few days before the competition started due to spraining his ankle on a badly landed quad lutz in practice. It was only a mild sprain, nothing too serious, but everyone agreed it was best to let it rest and heal before the upcoming Russian Nationals. (Well, Yuri had disagreed, of course, insisting he could still skate if given some pain killing injections, but he'd been outvoted by Dr. Mishin, Yakov, Lilia, Mila, and Otabek.)

After that, Otabek had planned to come watch Yuri compete at said Nationals and spend the holidays together, their first extended visit since their week long getaway to Yuri's grandpa's dacha back in August. Those plans got derailed when his favorite uncle suffered a heart attack the morning he was supposed to leave for Sochi. Though Uncle Serik pulled through, it hadn't felt right to leave his side until they knew he would be okay.

They wouldn't even be able to see each other in person on Valentine's Day next weekend. They would both probably spend most of the day at the rink, working on perfecting their programs for Worlds, then text each other while streaming an action movie – Yuri detested romantic comedies, and they weren't much his thing either – later that night, struggling to keep their eyes open until one of them – probably him, since Almaty was three hours ahead – inevitably fell asleep.

So, yeah, it had been awhile.

"Beka?" JJ's mouth was right next to his ear, the sound of his whispered name sending a pleasant shiver up Otabek's spine in spite of himself.

"Yeah?" Otabek said in almost as soft of voice, turning his head back to face JJ.

"I won't say 'no' this time."

And then JJ was kissing him once again, and Otabek's traitorous lips were kissing him back, his tongue slipping inside JJ's more-than-willing mouth as JJ slid his leather blazer off his shoulders, down his arms, and tossed it to the floor. His dress shirt and tie soon followed in similar fashion, Otabek moaning as JJ's warm hands roamed over his bare chest and stomach.

He needed to say "no". At the back of his mind, Otabek knew that. If JJ wasn't going to be the one to do it, then he would have to be the responsible one and put a stop to it himself. This was wrong. He loved Yuri, and if JJ had been in his right state of mind, Otabek knew he would be mortified by his current behavior. The person beside him, sucking kisses down his neck as he struggled with the buckle of Otabek's belt – he wasn't JJ. He might not be technically drunk, but he was still self-destructing, just like that night so many years ago.

(Isabella had been the cause of that spiral, too, thinking back on it, the two of them briefly breaking up after getting into a huge argument…)

Yet it felt so good to be touched again, to be kissed by someone again. Until that moment, Otabek had never realized just how starved he had been for physical affection. His body craved it, nerves tingling with every forbidden caress. Their hungry mouths found each other once again, a clash of tongues, teeth, and lips as they fell back on the bed. JJ was clumsy – Otabek doubted he had done anything more with a guy beyond that one intense make-out session they had shared as teens – but eager, untying the drawstring of his plaid pajama pants and pushing them down his legs, kicking them downwards until they joined Otabek's shirt and jacket on the floor.

Of course he was wearing those red boxer briefs underneath – the ones JJ had modeled in his very first ad, the ones that featured so heavily in Otabek's secret fantasies.

Except this was no fantasy. This was real.

"Like what you see?" JJ asked, no doubt noticing the way he was staring at the rather impressive bulge on display in the iconic underwear.

Otabek tore his gaze away, looking back up at JJ's face. "JJ, we have to stop this," he said breathlessly. "Like I said, I love Yura –"

"He never has to know." JJ rolled Otabek onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists to the mattress. "Please, Beka," he pleaded in a softer voice, looking down at him. "Just one night. I've always regretted pushing you away. I-I know we probably shouldn't, that it's probably a bad idea, but I don't want to be alone tonight." Sighing, he released his hold on Otabek's arms and sat back up on his knees. "To be honest, it's been a while for me, too…"

"JJ…"

"Please."

"Okay," Otabek said after a long pause, hating how weak he was to the sad, broken look in JJ's red-rimmed eyes. "Okay, as long as it's just for tonight..."

Moving back to a sitting position, he placed his hands against JJ's cheeks and kissed him once again.

Otabek slowly opened his eyes.

The hotel room was familiar...but not. The queen-sized bed was the same, covered in the same golden brocade blanket, as was the nightstand and the lamp. He recognized the creamy white walls and the plush beige carpet, too. The window, though… It's on the wrong wall, he realized, looking out to a different view of Las Vegas than the one he remembered from the past couple of mornings. The sun was just beginning to rise, light breaking through the towering skyscrapers in the distance.

That wasn't the only difference. Otabek wasn't alone, someone's warm body pressed against his backside, a strong arm wrapped tightly around his torso. In the haziness of morning fog, his heart leaped, thinking Yuri had come for a surprise visit, but that didn't make any sense. He was flying back home to Almaty later that morning. Impulsive as Yuri could be – and he definitely was at times; there was no denying that – even he wouldn't waste his time or money to travel 9,000 kilometers across the world for such a brief visit – and most certainly not in the middle of the skating season.

Besides, Yuri's skin was pale. His bedmate's arm was far more tanned and muscular, similar to...

JJ's.

Otabek squeezed his eyes shut, memories of the previous night flooding his mind. What the hell had he been thinking, sleeping with JJ?

No, that was the problem. He hadn't been thinking, at least not with his brain. He felt sorry for JJ, yeah, and maybe a part of him still harbored some lingering feelings leftover from his old teenage crush, but…

He needed to leave. Otabek gently pried JJ's arm away and began climbing out of bed, his movements slow and careful as he tried his best not to awaken JJ from his slumber. JJ let out a low moan, but to Otabek's immense relief, his eyes remained closed, JJ flipping over on his other side and pulling the blanket up over his shoulders.

Once he was free, Otabek looked for his clothes, finding most of them in a pile on the floor next to JJ's side of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and pushed his arms through the sleeves of his wrinkled dress shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he slipped his leather blazer over it. Socks went into his pocket. One of his shoes had disappeared underneath the bed, but his tie was nowhere in sight. After a brief search, he gave it up as a loss.

Shoes in hand, Otabek cracked open the door and looked out into the hallway. It was early, but the last thing either one of them needed was one of the other skaters witnessing him coming out of JJ's hotel room, doing the walk of shame. Fortunately, the hallway was deserted. He exited the room and quietly closed the door behind him, making his way back down the hall.

He had just unlocked the door to his own room when his phone began blasting "Welcome To The Madness". Startled, Otabek fumbled for the cell in his blazer pocket, a sharp pain piercing his heart when he saw Yuri's name on the Skype notification.

Right. Yuri had mentioned he would call after dinner...

Otabek tapped on the "End Call" button to decline.

He entered his hotel room, immediately dropping his shoes. Sighing, he then slid his back down the door, slumping down to a boneless heap on the floor. He needed to take a shower and pack up the rest of his things in preparation for check out, but he couldn't muster the will to get back up.

Fuck. What was he going to do?

He sat there, staring into space for who knew how long, until his phone once again started playing "Welcome To The Madness".

Yuri, of course. Probably wanting to know why the hell he had hung up on him the first time.

Otabek's thumb hovered over the "End Call" button, but if he declined Yuri's call again, Yuri would definitely suspect something was up. Forcing himself to get off the floor, he took a seat on his neatly made bed, remembering last minute to shrug off his blazer and shirt before finally accepting Yuri's call.

"Hey, good morning," he said in what he hoped was a normal tone of voice. "Or, I guess I should say, 'good evening'?"

Yuri's beautiful face, taking up most of the small screen, did not look happy. "Why didn't you answer the first time I called?" he demanded to know, exactly as Otabek suspected.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just needed a few more minutes of sleep."

Yuri harrumphed, though his features softened soon afterward, his annoyance thankfully dissipating. "Well, I guess I did call a little early…" he admitted, almost sheepishly.

"Did you just get out of the shower?" Otabek noticed that Yuri's long blonde hair was wet, what little he could see of his shoulders and collarbone bare. A couple of water droplets dripped down his skin.

(He pushed away the memory of a freshly-showered JJ from the previous night.)

"Yep," Yuri said, popping the "p" sound at the end. He grinned, then slowly began panning the camera downward so that Otabek could see that he was completely naked save for a tiger-print towel wrapped around his waist. "Squeaky clean and ready to get dirty," he said salaciously when the camera returned to focus on his face.

Otabek swallowed, blinking back a sudden onset of tears. It should have been an arousing sight – Yuri naked and wet and so obviously horny. It never took long for him to get hard when Yuri was involved, yet... He couldn't do this. He couldn't sit there and pretend everything was normal, that he hadn't fucked another guy the night before. Even worse, the guy had been none other than Jean-Jacques Leroy, who Yuri considered his nemesis. It was bad enough that he had cheated, but if Yuri ever found out who the "other man" was...

"Hey, something wrong?"

Not wanting Yuri to see, Otabek briefly shifted the camera to look up at the ceiling and swiped his hand across his left cheek to brush away a tear that had managed to escape. "Sorry, it's nothing," he lied. "I think I had a bit too much to drink last night."

Yuri frowned. "That's not like you. Did that asshole challenge you to another drinking contest?" he asked, no need to clarify who the "asshole" in question was. "I keep telling you that you're too nice. You should have let him drown his sorrows by himself."

Yeah, in hindsight, that's probably what he should have done. If only he hadn't felt the need to check in on JJ, make sure he was alright…

"Anyway, mind if I take a rain check?" Otabek asked, not answering Yuri's question. "I'm not really in the mood to do anything at the moment."

"Oh. Yeah, sure, that's –" Yuri paused, an unreadable look crossing his face. "Hey, Beka, are you sure there's nothing else you want to tell me?" he asked, Otabek's brows furrowing in confusion.

"Uh, no, not really?" Otabek tried to remember if he had perhaps forgotten some sort of important anniversary, but none came to mind. Yuri's birthday wasn't for a few more weeks, so that couldn't be it either.

"Oh, okay." Yuri tucked a strand of his wet hair behind his ear, his eyes looking downward instead of at the camera. "So, talk to you later, I guess?"

"Yeah, later. I'll call you when I get back."

"Have a safe flight home. Bye."

"Bye."

It was only after Otabek ended the call that he realized that neither one of them had said "I love you" as they usually did when saying goodbye.

Frowning, he stared down at the photograph of Yuri cuddling his beloved cat Potya that he was currently using as his home screen wallpaper. Yuri had acted strangely near the end of their conversation, Otabek still uncertain what he had wanted him to say. He couldn't possibly suspect…?

No, that was impossible. No one had seen him enter or leave JJ's suite, and JJ had promised to keep their one-night stand a secret. Besides, like him, he imagined JJ most likely wanted to forget the whole night ever happen.

Otabek shook his head. His guilt was making him paranoid, that's all. That had to be it. He needed to pull himself together. What had happened in Vegas needed to stay in Vegas where it belonged. He had no choice but to live with what he had done and resolve to do better in the future, for Yuri's sake.

He plugged his charger into his phone – the battery was running low after not being able to charge it the night before – then headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Somehow, he still smelled of JJ, the citrus scent that had seemed so nostalgic yesterday now churning his stomach.

While he waited for the water to get hot, he decided to brush his teeth. Otabek squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and was about to bring it to his mouth when he noticed a small bruise on his chest in his reflection.

It was located just underneath his collarbone, a few inches above his left nipple, the dark purple blemish contrasting starkly against his skin. A hickie, no doubt – one of several he found on closer inspection, trailing down his torso.

Hey, Beka, are you sure there's nothing else you want to tell me?

Otabek's toothbrush clattered as it hit the marble counter, his eyes closing as realization dawned.

Yuri knew.

Oh, God, he knew.

DISCLAIMER: "Yuri! On Ice" doesn't belong to me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic was written for dil-howlters-uncle-chris as part of the Yuri! On Ice Secret Santa event. I hope you enjoyed the story!

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