With a noisy squelch Otabek's heart landed on the Ducati's tank, bounced of the metal and fell onto the asphalt. The sound sent a shiver down his spine. Trying hard not to let his shock show he steered the bike in front of Maksim's house and stopped it next to the R8 that was parked neatly alongside the old wooden garden fence. He got off and helped Zhenya doing so, leading the boy to the fence gate by his hand.
"I think you have another guest", he murmured. If he could hear the irritation in his voice himself, then Zhenya could as well for sure.
The door opened before the boy could say anything and a very feverish looking Cilka appeared, wearing the cutest light green romper suit with little brown bunnies on it.
"Erasyyyyl~", she sighed and a wide, joyful smile spread across her face.
"Thank you for nothing, you little pest", Zhenya spat with a mean grin as he climbed up the three steps to the door. "It's only my birthday, you know. Move."
"But I sang for you already this morning!", Cilka complained and looked after her brother who had pushed her aside and entered the hall. He had been way too careful to convince Otabek that he was really pissed and once more witnessing the soft side of the boy made Otabek smile as he followed into the house.
"Yeah", Zhenya teased, "and it was awful, please never do that again."
Cilka looked like she was about to burst into tears, so Otabek crouched down next to her to draw her attention. "Are you feeling a little better, princess?", he murmured and she turned to him and the tears were forgotten.
"Yes", she answered with a smile and wrapped her little arms around his neck, hugging him close. The soft chuckle close to his ear melted his heart and he lifted the girl up on his arms to take her after her brother who had gotten out of his coat and scarf and proceeded to the living room.
Yuri sat on the sofa in an ugly-cute woolen sweater with a carousel on it and a braid obviously courtesy of Marisya and Dianka next to him, all three of them wrapped in a knit blanket. When Otabek entered he looked up from the story book he had on his lap. He shot Otabek a short glance, bit his lip to prevent a smile and looked to Zhenya.
"Hey Zhenya", he said and the boy stiffened immediately when he recognized the voice. "Happy birthday."
"Ka-Katyusha", he stuttered. His face was as red as it had been in the rink earlier.
"I hope you don't mind that I dropped by", Yuri said nonchalantly. "I heard that there's no party because of those three poor little darlings but I couldn't just not show up, right?"
The hum that escaped Zhenya sounded a little agonized. "Where's Papa?"
"Papa went fetch pizza", Dianka answered with a satisfied smile although she looked just as ill as Cilka.
"He asked me to watch after your sisters for the time being", Yuri added and Dianka nodded.
"Katyusha wanted to wait for you here."
"That's right." Yuri chuckled lowly. "I've been waiting for you here. After all I have a present for you." He smirked. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing to Zhenya and Otabek smiled a little despite his irritation.
"Tha-that-", Zhenya's hands balled into fists and if possible the blush on his face darkened. "That's really not- you shouldn't have- I mean-"
"What iwwit, what iwwit?", Marisya exclaimed, making Yuri laugh.
"Shall I go fetch it? I left it in the car, it's pretty big."
The two girls on the sofa cheered, the one on Otabek's arms hid her face in his neck and fisted the collar of his jacket.
"I can go", Otabek volunteered. "I still have my jacket on anyway."
"That'd be nice of you." Yuri looked at him with a smile that was so pretty that it hurt in Otabek's chest. "It's on the passenger seat."
He let Cilka who pouted a little down and took the car key Yuri had left on the sideboard in the hall, then left the house again.
The air was cold and helped him calm his mind a little. He hadn't expected to see Yuri again so soon. He wasn't prepared for this. The photo under his suitcase came to his mind, the pink of the lingerie and the black of the ink on Yuri's white skin. He shook his head and went over to the Audi. He needed to lock that thought out for now. Try not to wonder why Yuri had lied to him about the videos and the point when he had stopped doing them. He couldn't think about that now, not when he had no chance to talk to Yuri and find out what had happened. He couldn't let his pain show and the fear that Yuri might not have been honest with him at other times as well. He told himself to stay composed and remain in control of himself. Or maybe Erasyl told him that, he wasn't sure.
He took the box from the passenger seat. It was pretty big but surprisingly light, wrapped in paper with a flower pattern. Otabek noticed that the flowers were not only printed on the paper but also punched into it as a relief. He smiled when he realized that it wasn't a coincidence. Yuri had chosen this specific wrapping paper so that Zhenya would feel the pattern under his fingers. That was what the boy had meant when he had described Yuri as thoughtful.
He returned to the living room and placed the present on the coffee table. Yuri had managed to make Zhenya sit beside him, a scorching blush sticking to the boy's usually so pale cheeks.
"Open it!", Marisya pleaded, the girls seemingly more excited about the present than the birthday boy himself.
"On the table", Yuri murmured and Zhenya knelt down in front of it and reached out for his present.
Cilka got up from the sofa and went over to Otabek, who crouched down and accepted the girl's tender arms around his shoulders, wrapping an arm around the tiny figure. He noticed that Yuri shot him an amused glance.
They watched how Zhenya let his fingers run over the edges of the box hesitantly, then pressed his palms onto the paper.
"It's really big", he boy said with a low voice, only to be interrupted by Dianka.
"Finally open it, I wanna know what's inside!"
"Open it!", Marisya tuned in and Zhenya let out an annoyed breath, but found the spot where the wrapping paper was sealed with adhesive tape. He loosened the tape very carefully and unwrapped the paper to reveal a cardboard box.
"Waaa-u", Marisya marveled with shining eyes, "is that a-"
"Don't say it!" Dinaka pressed her small hands on her sister's mouth. "He has to find out himself!"
With a chuckle Yuri disheveled Dianka's long black hair a little.
Zhenya had felt along the edges of the box in the meantime and found where he could open the box. Reaching inside hesitantly he seemed to figure out what was inside and stopped in his movement.
"I don't-", he murmured, turning his head vaguely in Yuri's direction. "I mean… I'm…"
"You're welcome", Yuri said with an audible smile and Zhenya bit his lower lip but couldn't avoid the grin that spread on his face. With a hissing inhale he turned back to the box. With more wariness than necessary he pulled the slender neck of an acoustic guitar out of the box.
"Pwetty!", Marisya sang from behind the hands Dianka still held over her mouth.
"It's a Fender Tim Armstrong Hellcat", Yuri explained as Zhenya placed the red corpus of the instrument on his lap and let his fingers stroke the strings respectfully, producing small sounds. "I had the guy in the shop play some other models for me, but to be honest I fell in love with this one instantly."
Otabek could see why. The guitar wasn't only painted in a very beautiful and brilliant ruby red but also had small cat shaped pearl acrylic inlays marking the frets, the twelfth decorated with two skulls. Very plisetsky.
"I would've bought it for myself", Yuri added with a shrug. "So I thought you could like it, too."
"Can you play it?", Cilka asked, holding onto Otabek tightly when Yuri looked over to them.
"Sadly I can't", Yuri answered, then addressed Zhenya again. "That's why I will talk to your papa about lessons."
Zhenya inhaled shakily. "Really?"
Again Yuri shrugged. "That's part of the present."
Zhenya's voice was a little shaky when he said: "Thanks. Really."
The sound of the door opening announced Maksim's return and the girls all jumped up and ran over to the door to tell their father about the present Katyusha had brought for their brother who kept sitting with the guitar on the floor overwhelmed. Maksim asked Otabek and Yuri if they wanted to stay for dinner, but they both refused.
In the end Zhenya walked Otabek to the door.
"Thank you", he murmured, the smile on his lips genuine. "That was… pretty certainly the best birthday of my life. Thanks to you and Katyusha that is. I'll never..." For a moment he stood there, awkwardly, then threw himself at Otabek and hugged him tight. "Thanks, Erasyl", he murmured, barely audible with his face pressed against Otabek's chest. "You're really cool."
Otabek couldn't help but laugh a little. "I do my best."
When he arrived home some time later he found himself on his back on the mattress and still a little touched by the sudden boldness Zhenya had shown. He hadn't expected the boy to be so straightforward with his feeling of gratitude, but he was glad that he had witnessed it. Everything had turned out fine, just like Otabek had hoped. Even if only for one day Zhenya had experienced that in spite of his disability life could be happy and warm for him. And just as much Otabek had remembered that as well. Zhenya's laughter at the rink, the feeling and sound of blades on ice, the warmth of Cilka's tiny cheek against his shoulder, Yuri's smile - Yuri's smile! Yuri's green eyes. The dark gold of his lashes. That wonderful hair in a terrible braid. Long, slender, white hands holding a story book. So gorgeous, despite everything. So pure.
The knock on his door had Otabek alert and on his feet in a split second. He didn't panic, although the fact that someone was at his door probably should have. As quiet as possible he grabbed his gun, checked the magazine and unlocked it, then went over to the door. After he had attached a slim piece of thick material to the lower end of the door a few weeks ago he could be sure that from the outside the shine of his lamp could not be seen. That way he didn't have to sit in the dark or fear that someone noticed the small line of light and know that he was at home or even tell from the shadow he cast that he was approaching the door.
When it knocked again, louder this time, he was already opening the bolts without making a sound. He inhaled slowly. When he started to exhale he tore the door open and pointed the gun at the person in front of it.
Yuri stared at the opening of the Grach with wide eyes. The metal was mere millimeters from his nose and he made a slow step backwards before Otabek pointed the gun to the side. "Fuuuck~", he said and looked from the gun to Otabek to the gun again. "Nothing like a warm welcome…"
Frowning he secured the gun again. "Are you alone?"
A smirk accompanied the answer. "Of course I am, who do you think I could bring here?"
With a huff Otabek looked around behind Yuri, then nodded and went inside again. He placed the gun back into its case and straightened when Yuri wrapped his arms around him.
"I'm so glad you're home", he whispered. His breath tickled on Otabek's skin.
"What are you doing here?"
Yuri didn't let go of him. "I wanted to see you. It was so hard to pretend I didn't know you, even with only the kids around. When all I wanted was to hug you."
Otabek didn't hug him back. He kept his arms pressed to his sides, his hands balled into fists. "Why didn't you text me?"
At that Yuri finally let loose a little, distancing himself from Otabek to look at him with a bewildered expression. "I didn't want to waste time. I wanted to see you." When Otabek's jaw clenched, he rose one hand from his shoulders and placed the cold tip of his index finger on the scar on Otabek's jaw. "What's wrong?"
His voice was full of worry and Otabek wished he could pretend that nothing was wrong. He wished that he could lean forward and kiss Yuri and pretend the blonde hadn't lied to him. He wished he could hold onto that feeling Yuri's smile caused in his heart. But he wasn't that strong. Doubt seeped from his ribs right into his insides and he shook off Yuri's hand and turned away.
There was nothing to look at but the suitcase that hid what hurt him so much.
"We went to see Sergej", he began, staring at the black material of the cover of the suitcase. "He… didn't expect guests." When he looked back at Yuri he noticed the helpless expression on the boy's face. "I found something there."
Yuri watched as he bent over to take the photo out from under the case and turned around to hand it to him.
"You said you stopped when Orlov took care of you", he whispered, his voice giving in to the tension. "You lied."
First Yuri looked angry but then he took the picture from Otabek's scarily steady fingers. The green eyes widened in shock when he looked down on the paper.
"Those were everywhere", Otabek said, his voice back but strained. "All over the place. From different videos apparently, some old, some new. He printed them out and surrounded himself with them. With you. Doing all kinds of things. And then I found this. You with the tattoo. Care to explain?"
Yuri stared at the photo, then his eyes flashed up to Otabek, filling with tears. "I don't know." A whisper.
Otabek stared back at him.
"I don't know", Yuri said again, looked back at the picture.
It hurt to see him like that although Otabek didn't know exactly why he was crying. Was it guilt? Was it shame?
"Please, tell me the truth."
Yuri bit his lip, then shook his head, tears falling from his lashes.
Otabek grit his teeth. "It's no use to keep lying to me. Tell me the truth, Yuri... Katyusha."
"I don't know!", Yuri yelled and hid his face behind his hands, clutching the photo between his fingers hard. "I didn't lie to you!" Sinking to his knees. "I didn't lie to you! And I'm not Katyusha!"
It was cruel and Otabek was well aware of it. But he couldn't stand the lies anymore. Too many people had hidden the truth from him too many times. That Yuri was among them hurt beyond all measure.
"Then how comes Sergej had this photo of you?", he hissed.
Yuri looked up at him again. His eyes were full of wrath, piercing and cold when he screamed at him: "He fucks me!" With a galvanic motion he threw the photo on the floor between them. "He fucks me all the time! He drives me home and takes me upstairs and then he fucks me. And you know what? I let him do it! He's ugly and rough and I'm drunk and high and I hate it every single time, but I let him do it because I'm so tired of being used! Because when he says he loves me he sounds honest. When he says that he'll make me happy if I don't tell Daddy I want to believe him. When I pass out on the bed and wake up to him dressing me up he's so gentle. He holds my hair when I throw up from too much booze and he holds me when I cry because I feel so lonely, so fucking lonely because no one wants me! Because no one is there for me, but he is, and I don't like him, but… He is there! He is there when you are not!" Yuri's voice had become hysteric but all of a sudden he fell silent and just stared at Otabek.
Otabek who bit his lip and didn't wipe his tears away, because it hurt so much that he felt he could never stop crying. He looked down at Yuri, his beautiful Yuri and the vision blurred before his eyes but as soon as the tears fell from his eyes it was clear again and Yuri was still there and Otabek had still hurt him.
"Is that true?" His voice didn't sound like his voice at all.
Yuri nodded. "I let him", he said, his voice low and insecure. "I didn't know he takes photos. But this isn't from one of the videos. I stopped when Daddy found me. I didn't lie to you."
He knew he had to apologize, but his voice didn't seem to work. He stood there and stared at Yuri who sat back on his heels and lowered his eyes. It was cold in here. Otabek had turned on the heater when he had arrived home but it hadn't been enough time to heat up the place. Otabek felt like frozen in place.
"I'm disgusting", Yuri murmured after a while, the words ripping Otabek's heart out. "I know that. I'm disgusting and dirty and despicable. I'm not worth the clothes I wear, nor the food I eat, nor the air I breathe. And I've been aware of that every second of my life. I don't deserve love. I never have. I can only function as long as I'm needed. I can only be disposable. That's what I'm good for. I'm just a frozen cold piece of shit." He balled his hands into fists. His expression was bitter. He looked up to Otabek and his eyes showed that he was serious. That he was expressing what he felt inside. The same look he had seen on little Yuri Plisetsky's face all those years back. Those eyes that he had called the eyes of a soldier.
"But I'm not a liar."
There it was. Like a thread that was attached to his heart and that Yuri could play with without even noticing, making his soul shift and twirl in the process until he couldn't think straight. Like he was grabbing his insides with both hands, reaching through the hole where his heart had been. Touching him on the inside, painfully and honestly. All this wrath and pain and fear couldn't make Yuri stop. He'd fight. No matter how shattered he was. No matter how hurt. He'd bite, like a wounded tiger, not letting go of his attacker until they both bled out.
He had Yuri in his arms without noticing that he had moved at all. His face pressed against the blonde hair he couldn't say for sure if he held Yuri to comfort him or if he needed the comfort himself. Both probably.
"You're not", he said, tears wetting Yuri's sweater. "I'm sorry."
The weight of Yuri's hands on Otabek's shoulderblades was light, almost imperceptible. At the same time it was as reassuring as a mere gesture could be.
"I know you are", Yuri whispered, holding him so softly while Otabek was crying. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You never want to hurt anybody."
"I do", he whispered. "I want to hurt them. Everyone who ever touched you. Everyone who ever looked at you the wrong way. Even if it's the whole world. I want to punish them, all of them."
"Myself", Erasyl said in his head and maybe it wasn't even Erasyl this time.
The nod of Yuri's head made his awry braid rub against Otabek's temple. "Is that the reason you stay here?"
"Yes, that's the reason", Otabek said. The feeling of the soft hands on his back was divine. "No, you're the reason", Erasyl said in his head.
"Is that why you take in all this pain and all the fear?"
"Yes, that's why", Otabek said. He inhaled Yuri's scent deeply. "No, you're why", Erasyl said in his head.
"Because you want what? Justice?"
"Yes, I want justice", Otabek said. "No, I want you", Erasyl screamed in his head.
Gentle fingers caressed his hair. "Is that what you want the most in the world?"
"Yes", Otabek said. "You dirty liar", Erasyl sobbed in his head.
Yuri's warmth was comforting. It was nice. He closed his eyes and listened to the boy's calm heartbeat. He could sit here forever. That would be so nice. Stop the time and sit here with Yuri for the rest of his life, or more even: Until the world ended. Until seconds became minutes and heartbeats became eternity. He felt guilty, because he had hurt Yuri. He felt guilty because he couldn't be honest. But Yuri was here and that was all that mattered. As long as Yuri was here he could be happy. As long as Yuri stayed with him, the sadness was not there. The sadness he usually felt, usually, when Yuri was not around.
"Usually", he said, his voice low and calm and Yuri still caressed his hair. His fingers ran through the dark strands, cold white fingertips unwittingly brushing against the scar that was hidden there, a witness of when he had almost died. "Usually I'm sad", he confessed, slowly. "When you are not here. It's hard to describe. I'm just very, very sad. And angry." He sighed. "There's something. In my chest. Something black. It's always been there, since I can remember. I… I don't remember all of it, still. And there's something red. Behind my eyes. It makes me lose control. It makes me want to kill everyone. It makes me want to pull my gun and shoot Jessenin. Execute him. Execute Sergej. Execute Orlov. Kill them all because they…" He pressed his forehead against Yuri's jaw. "They had no right. You do deserve love. And all you get is pain. I want to make them pay." A sob made his throat cramp. "It's not fair."
"That's how this world is", Yuri whispered, his breath soft and warm on Otabek's forehead.
"It's my fault", Otabek concluded, squinting his eyes shut. It hurt so, so much. "I'm sorry."
Yuri caressed his hair, keeping silent for a moment. "I know you are", he eventually said. "And it's okay. I'm here with you. I promised you I'd be. I promised I'd help you when you need me. So don't be scared. We'll find a way to make things better. We'll make those feelings go away, the anger and the sadness. I'll help you."
Otabek sat up. His eyes hurt from crying, but he wanted to look at Yuri who smiled at him.
"You know what I think, Otabek? I think you are way more fragile than you want to admit. I think you take much more pain than you can bear. I didn't see it before. But you suffer so much, so much that it makes you sick. All this", he made a gesture that included the entire room, "this place and Moscow and me… It makes you sick. It makes you sad."
"I can't leave", Otabek whispered, shocked. Did Yuri want to send him away again? Hadn't he made his point clear? He would never leave, not without Yuri by his side.
"You don't have to." Yuri leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "I'll keep you with me. If that's what makes the sadness go away, that's what I'll do. I'll stay."
As appealing as it was, it still made Otabek shake his head. "You can't", he replied, wiping his tears from his cheeks with the back of his hands. "It's too dangerous."
"Then what?" Yuri looked disappointed. "Am I supposed to leave you behind and watch you break beyond repair? If it's not too late already? You can't ask that from me, Otabek."
"I'm not broken", he insisted, looking down on Yuri's hands that the boy had folded on his knees.
"Oh yes, you are. And the sooner you see that the sooner we can try to find a way to make it stop." A finger under Otabek's chin made him look up to those eyes he loved so much. "I can't see you suffer so much. You are my friend. You mean so much to me, more than you can even guess. So if we can't come up with a better idea, that's what I'll do: I'll stay, even if it's only for tonight."
"Yuri", he said, frowning. "You can't do that. Not… not just like that. Everyone will be looking for you. They'll find the car, they'll come here and take you away from me."
"Not like that?", Yuri echoed. "How then?" He leaned forward again, his stare intense. "How?"
With a shudder Otabek looked away. "We… we'll have to plan that. You can't take your car. It's too easy to recognize. They have seen us together. We have to make it less… salient." For a moment he pondered, then he had an idea. "You need a different car."
"I can take one of the Audis", Yuri suggested but Otabek shook his head.
"No, like, an entirely different car. One that no one would think could be used by you. I mean something like Boris' old Lada." He looked back at Yuri, suddenly eager with the idea. "We'll hide it, in a single garage somewhere close to your apartment. You said you have a secret exit, one that has no surveillance cameras. You can sneak out there and take the car to come here. There's so many cars and trucks going in and out because of the hauling company, nobody will suspect anything if there's one more or less. You could come here anytime. I can give you a key, or hide it somewhere where only the two of us know where it is. You can come here and…" He stopped, admiring the smile that Yuri's lips had formed.
"...be with you", Yuri finished. There was a light blush on his nose tip. The one that Otabek loved.
"Be with me." He felt he was smiling too.
"That's all I wish for." He chuckled and wrestled Otabek onto his back in a rough, boyish embrace. He came lying half on top of Otabek, his head placed on Otabek's chest, right where his heart was. "I want to stay tonight", he said. His arms were wrapped around Otabek's shoulders.
"You can't."
"I know that. But I don't want you to be so sad. I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy." He pressed up on his elbows. He was way too close. "You were so relaxed earlier, at Zhenya's. You looked at peace. You were so calm and… gentle." Yuri looked him in the eyes and blushed. "You have the prettiest smile. I'd love to see it again."
Otabek stared back at Yuri. The blonde was so close. His eyes sparkling, his lips so pink. Dianka's unskilled braid hung from his shoulder and it would be so easy, so, so easy to-
("I let him do it because I'm so tired of being used!", Yuri screams, his eyes overflowing with tears and every single one hurts like a gunshot in Otabek's heart. The photo lies face down on the floor between them and Otabek knows he has hurt Yuri more than anyone has ever hurt him before. He wants to turn back time and not hear it, wants to turn back time even further and make everything undone. But he can't. He can only stand there and realize that he is just as guilty as anyone else who drove Yuri this far. It can never happen again. No one can ever hurt Yuri again. He can never hurt Yuri ever again.)
"I know a place", he breathed. Then swallowed. Then realized the idea was brilliant. "I know a place!", he exclaimed and pushed Yuri away, jumped on his feet, took Yuri by his hand who gasped in surprise.
"Otabek!", he laughed, holding him back, eager for an explanation.
Otabek looked back at him, the slightest smile showing on his face. "What will it be?", he asked. "Coming or not?"
When Yuri nodded excitedly, his eyes sparkling with delight he knew he could fix this.