Fear had always been a part of Otabek. An important part even. Since he had been a child he had feared to disappoint. Had lived with the fear to fail and come home to the disappointed faces of his mother, his coach, his people. They wouldn't say anything negative, at least not as long as he was a child, but he could see that their smiles were not honest and the "Well done" that accompanied the pat on his shoulder meant "Well but not nearly enough". There was nothing he could do about the fear, so he adopted it and turned it around. He managed to change it into something else and it helped motivating him, made him give all he had to be successful. The fear had become an important part of his character even before he had known what character he would have as he grew up.

The fear he had gotten used to later couldn't be changed into something good. He had seen Yuri, this small, bitter ray of sunlight in the ballet room and he had changed his life. He had fought hard to one day be equal to this child prodigy, or at least become good enough to make him bother with him at all. Good enough a skater and good enough a person. Of course there was no guarantee that Yuri would not hate him; Yuri seemed to hate every single individual on this planet after all, with the exception of his grandfather at least. So when facing the boy they called an angry kitten Otabek had struggled to fight the fear back. Fear that everything he had worked for would be proven futile once the Icetiger of Russia ripped his guts out. JJ's presence had almost ruined it back then, the blonde so annoyed by JJ that Otabek had not even dared saying something. Retrospective it might have been the best decision to just leave, but on the inside Otabek had fought a battle wether to say something or do something. In the end the fear to completely ruin everything had won and he had run away. He had been embarrassed to give in to his fear. And if he was honest with himself it had been pure luck that he had found Yuri later and somehow making him his friend, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes not even able to see this beautiful sunset.

The fear he felt now resemled the kind of feeling he had carried around in his chest since he had talked to Khaligaz, his dear Khaligaz pitying him that he had forgotten Yuri. From the moment on he realized that not only he didn't know where Yuri was or if he even was alive but that there was only so little a chance that he'd ever find him again something had settled between his heart and his ribs that made it hard to breathe. He had discerned it as something dark, a black gooey mass, sitting in his chest like a lifeform that had awoken from a long hibernation. Yes, that was right, it wasn't something foreign, it was something that had always been a part of him. Something strangely familiar. Maybe in the end it was the same fear that had always been there but that had evolved into something more mature, more powerful. And in this very moment when he saw the door closing behind Orlov and Jessenin and Katyusha he felt that it rose, its claws pinching through his chest. It almost made him look down on his chest to see if the black spikes were visibly sticking out from his heart.

Otabek took a deep breath and tried to relax his fists and jaw. The black was still there, this fear inside him.

He didn't even realize that Boris and Artjom came to stand beside him before Boris spoke. "Are you alright? You look upset."

Otabek shot him a glance. The concern furrowing the other man's eyes reminded him that he had to keep up his facade. "I'm fine", he replied.

Boris hummed, obviously not convinced, then took his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "We'll wait here untill dinner is over", he explained, blowig blue smoke into the cold air. "Then we'll take them home again and hope that's it for today." He sighed. "And then say our prayers that that bastard Sergej finally starts taking his job seriously, because I didn't apply for this." When Otabek didn't say anything Boris frowned. "Honestly, Erasyl, what's wrong? You look like you're about to murder someone..."

Oh, he was so right, he had no idea. But what were the chances that Otabek could just storm into the restaurant and shoot Jessenin and Orlov, maybe half of the staff as well, then get Yuri out of the place unharmed, eventually killing Boris and Artjom too and escape in one of the cars? The mere thought was ridiculous. He didn't even know if Orlov or Jessenin were armed. He didn't know if any of them could fight. He had only 18 bullets in his Grach and 18 in his reserve magazine. He didn't know if there were more of Orlov's people in the restaurant. He had to have some bodyguards at least. If he owned the entire Ritz-Carlton this restaurant was his for sure, too. Therefore it was very likely that the staff was recruited from clan members as well, so there was a chance that some people in there were dangerous opponents as well at the least. And even if Otabek managed to make it in there, kill everyone and get Yuri out alive as well, he still didn't know if Artjom could fight. Boris wouldn't be much of a problem, Otabek guessed. The man was a bouncer but by now Otabek knew him well enough that he could say for sure that he didn't pose a real threat. Artjom's skills were still unknown though and as the driver Orlov trusted with his family Otabek had to suppose he was not as harmless as he appeared. Boris had mentioned that the man was reliable, even had taken a bullet for Orlov before. So there was hardly a chance that Otabek could go on a rampage and not be dead within a few minutes. And even if he managed to kill everyone and escape in a car with Yuri he had no idea where to go. They would have to leave Moscow, had to leave Russia and hide somewhere safe, in a place where no one knew them. Fleeing the country in one of the cars of a just murdered Russian vor vzakone, a highly respected man whose 'adopted son' had been kidnapped by a crazy nobody who had lost his capability to make reasonable decisions leaving corpses left and right. There was no chance they'd make it. They'd be hunted down by the entire bratva and everyone who felt obliged to Orlov. Everyone would look for them. They'd find them. And then they'd take Yuri away from him again. He couldn't let that happen.

"I'm just worried", he said eventually. "I wonder if this place is safe."

Boris shrugged. "I guess so."

"Yeah", Artjom added. "We have people in there. No reason to be worried actually."

When Otabek just nodded once, his frown remaining directed towards the restaurant, Boris flicked his cigarette stump away. "I don't know what happened to you, but you don't need to be worried. Really." He placed his hand on Otabek's tense shoulder. "It's okay. Calm down."

It was hard. No, impossible. Of course he couldn't calm down, but it seemed that at least he was convincing in pretending. He sighed and turned away from the bulding, stuffing his trembling hands into his pockets.

They decided to wait in the car Boris and Otabek had arrived with, Artjom sitting in the back because he said that it'd be too boring in Orlov's all by himself. Boris tried to light up the mood by telling stories from the Nightshade like that one time when two girls had tried to sell him coke and were so persistent that he had had to act like he was an undercover policeman from the drug squad to get rid of them.

Otabek sat in the driver's seat and did his best to look relaxed. Actually though he kept looking at the clock in the Audi's dashboard, counting the minutes since Yuri had entered the restaurant. He imagined that this was what hell felt like. He wanted nothing more than go in there and take care of Yuri, ask him if he was alright and prevent anyone from coming too close to him. Especially Jessenin. It seemed ridiculous how Otabek had thought the man was alright earlier that night. Only God knew if he wouldn't try and take advantage of Yuri when Orlov did't look. The thought was scary.

"By the way", Boris interrupted his thoughts, "Anka was amazed by how you went after Zhenya back then. The boy is so difficult, he usually doesn't warm up to people that fast. We were all pretty impressed, you know."

Otabek pondered for a moment, not sure of what to say or how to explain himself at first. "It just seemed right", he replied slowly. "He's interesting."

Boris and Artjom laughed. "That's a nice way to put it", Boris commented, then went on: "It's the boy's birthday next week if I remember correctly, I swear he'd be happy if you came. I'll ask Maksim about it if you want." Suddenly Boris became very serious. "Zhenya doesn't have friends, you know, because he doesn't go to school, so if it doesn't bother you..."

The thought of the pale boy made Otabek frown. Zhenya had seemed so lonely back there in that dimly lit hallway. A lot like himself. He had had friends back then, Khaligaz and Belek at least, although they had not been available because of his training. But at least he had know they were there. Wether he had stayed in the US or in Canada later, he had known that once he came home to Kazakhstan they'd both be there. Zhenya had nothing like that. He was trapped all by himself. Considering this his situation resembled that of Yuri a lot more. Yuri who had been alone all this time since Yakov had taken him in as a little boy, separated from his grandfather, fighting all by himself for acceptance. For a little bit of recognition. It made him sad to think that Zhenya had to go through all this and through worse, a dark and lonely future laying ahead of him.

He'd think of something, Otabek decided. Something that would if not help Zhenya long term then at least distract him for some time. If he could make him smile this cute smile again even if just for a second then he'd try. He had managed to make Yuri smile more. Maybe it would work a second time.

в

At half past eleven Boris couldn't stop yawning.

"They're taking their time today", Artjom who as Orlov's regular driver was used to the restaurant dining procedure mentioned.

"I heard they're bargaining about Jessenin's share of the uncle's legacy." Boris yawned again. "From what I know they want Orlov to take over the rest as well."

"That's what I heard, too", Artjom agreed. "I don't even want to think about how much money this is about if he brings Katyusha as a good luck charm..."

"Oh, come on!", Boris exclaimed, one eyebrow risen. "I bet you know exactly how much it is!"

Artjom shrugged. "Too much for any of us to wrap our heads around for sure..."

"Here they come", Boris said, but of course Otabek had noticed already.

They got out of the car and Artjom bid his farewell with a brief nod, then made his way over to the other Audi.

"Finally", Boris said under his breath and stretched a little. His spine made some low popping noises. He sighed when the group of three split up unexpectedly, Orlov hugged Jessenin, then placed a kiss on Yuri's lips very gently.

"I knew something like that would happen", Boris said with another long exhale and it took Otabek another second to realize what Boris meant by that. But when he saw how instead of getting into Orlov's car Yuri accompanied Jessenin in their direction his jaw clenched painfully. It could only mean one thing: Jessenin took him back to the hotel. And the way Yuri wrapped his white fingers around Jessenin's arm gave a hint on what would happen once they were there.

The wrath tightened his chest until he thought he could never take a single breath again. And then they were there and he had to open the door to the back of the car letting Jessenin in, the filthy old bastard who didn't even spare Otabek a look as he got into the car. He seemed to be drunk, the grin on his face obscene and his cheeks reddened.

Yuri on the other hand seemed perfectly sober. Not a single hair on his head was out of order, the braid still sitting in place like a crown, his complexion the same flawless porcelain as ever. He was beautiful. Maybe that was what had brought him here in the first place.

When Otabek held his hand out so he could get into the car, he gave him this tiny smile again and a whisper: "Thank you", just like he had earlier. It wasn't much, but it meant the world to Otabek. Because in a situation when anyone else hadn't even bothered to look at him Yuri took the risk and smiled at him. Thanked him. And Otabek knew that it wasn't because he helped Yuri into the car. It was because he was here. Because he was angry. Because he had promised to be there for Yuri as much as he could and recognized that Otabek kept his promise this time. So in the end it didn't break his heart when Yuri sat too close to Jessenin, or when he started to trace his fingers over the button line of the man's shirt. Because Yuri did behave affectionately towards this stranger, but Otabek knew it was nothig but an act. No matter how intimate or lewd it was, it was all just for show. But that smile wasn't. It had never been.

That way or the other the drive over to the hotel cost Otabek all his strength. They had closed the separating pane to the back of the car so they would not intrude what was going on back there - or vice versa - but once in a while Yuri's laugh could be heard, the high pitched fake laugh, not the deep honest laugh Otabek had fallen in love with again and again. It was relieving in a way but nevertheless Otabek had a hard time pushing his imagination aside that made him wonder what was going on in the back.

Boris wasn't a great help distracting him. The man almost fell asleep on his seat. So instead Otabek focused on the traffic.

When they arrived at the hotel some time later Boris didn't even bother to get out of the car. "I'll leave the work to you tonight. Take it as a sign of my trust in you." He laughed but it became another yawn.

Not that the task required two people at all. Otabek got out and straightened his clothes, then opened the back door. He heard Yuri laugh just as Jessenin pulled his hand out from the dress that rode high on Yuri's tights by now. Otabek's stomach turned. He held out his hand to assist Yuri and it trembled.

"Excuse me", he murmured. The feeling of Yuri's fingers in his was strangely comforting. Yuri's fingers were cold. Somehow that calmed Otabek down. But that wasn't all.

With a swift motion Yuri swung his legs out of the car and in the next moment stumbled so close to Otabek that he could feel Yuri's breath on his lips.

"Oops, sorry", he giggled, but it was an act too. Because a split second later Otabek found Yuri's hands on his shoulders and his lips so close to his ear that it sent shivers down his spine.

"Don't worry", he breathed against the skin of Otabek's neck just before distancing himself from Otabek again on shaky legs. He chuckled and then took a step backwards. The look he gave Otabek was serious though, the smile not reaching his eyes.

"Katyusha", Jessenin exclaimed and waved Otabek's hand away as he held it out to help him too. "Wait for me my beautiful darling. Don't leave me behind to vanish into thin air like I only imgined your tasty lips!" He emerged from the car and Otabek was disgusted. But he stayed composed. He had to. He had to remain calm.

Jessenin stood and immdiately wrapped an arm around Yuri's bony shoulders, then dragged him away towards the hotel's main entrance. Otabek stared at them until the door slid closed behind them, then got into the driver's seat again and slammed the door shut.

Boris started, sitting upright in his seat. "Well, good morning to you too, boy", he said sarcastically and sank back into the seat. "And now get me home, I'd rather spend my night with my wife than with you when you're on your period..."

ж

Otabek didn't sleep a single second this night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Yuri before them and Jessenin and all the things he might do to the boy. The thing that made it awkward though was that Otabek had never had an interest in coming up with sexual practices out of the ordinary. He had never had an interest in anyone but Yuri after all. So he could not imagine what Jessenin would be able to do to Yuri, what the most perverted act could be or what he could ask from Yuri that would take the blonde to his limits. The mere fact that he could do things to Yuri now, things that Otabek in his innocence wasn't even able to imagine, was a nightmare itself.

So he just laid on his mattress, on his back, staring up at the ceiling that was illuminated by his light bulb. Dried droplets of paint threw weird shadows on the patchily painted ceiling. Forming shapes and patterns that didn't make sense, just like his thoughts didn't make sense. At least until he imagined how he would treat Yuri if he ever got the chance.

He'd be gentle. Very, very gentle. And respectful. He'd let Yuri make the first step, barely acting, mostly reacting not to hurt or scare Yuri. He'd touch his skin, softly. Caressing Yuri's hands, his forearms, then his upper arms. He'd slowly stroke along his collarbone, then pushing the silky golden strands aside so he could see Yuri's white neck. And then he'd caress the skin there. With his fingertips first, very carefully. Then with his lips. He'd breathe gentle kisses on Yuri's ambrosial neck, almost too soft to sense them. And Yuri would allow it, tilting his head to the side, sighing like he had longed for his touch, for his kisses. He'd kiss Yuri's jaw. The soft spot beneath his ear right afterwards. Then his chin. Then the corner of his mouth. Finally his lips. And in his imagination Yuri kissed him back, almost unnoticeably. His fingers would come rest on Otabek's chest and Otabek's fingers would dance across Yuri's back, holding him soft but close. The light bulb would make Yuri's hair shimmer, his lashes a dark gold, casting heavy shadows on his reddening cheeks. He was beautiful like this. Incredibly gorgeous. And in his imagination Otabek kept kissing him, caressing him: his chest, so white, his ribs and his waist that had looked so slender in the black dress. Otabek touched him everywhere and he took his time for each spot. He treasured every bone, every tiny white-golden hair on Yuri's skin. He treasured the long legs and the bony feet and the black ink under Yuri's skin on the small of his back. He made Yuri sigh in bliss, showing him how much he meant to him, how much he was worth. He treated Yuri with the respect and the love he deserved. And with all of Otabek's passion that had piled up in him over the years. It all belonged to Yuri. All the touches he had saved for him, all the kisses and all the love. And he himself. It all belonged to Yuri.

Otabek woke up with tears drying on his cheeks. The light was still on and he hadn't even noticed that he had fallen asleep. But the dream clung to his heart for a moment more, this wonderful melancholic dream in which he finally had shown Yuri what he felt for him. And in which Yuri had accepted his love.

The emotion vanished when he remembered what had woken him: the sound of his phone. When he reached for it and checked the overview on the lock screen his heart skipped a beat.

Pick me up from the hotel in 30 minutes, take the R8, the message from Yuri's smartphone read, received a minute ago, at 2:47 am. It made Otabek get on his feet in the blink of an eye. The wording sounded urgent. Like something had happened. And it wasn't in the secret chat that automatically deleted messages after 30 seconds. It was in a regular chat. A fact that worried Otabek to no end, because usually Yuri wasn't that careless.

He picked up Yuri's car from the car park and arrived in front of the Ritz-Carlton 20 minutes later.

OMG I'm so sorry I'm late, please don't be mad at me Q.Q