bringbackgold | Catchall (for bespredel)

Otabek had invited Yuri to come see one of his shows in Almaty. He knew, when Yuri said he would hop on a plan right away, that he was only half joking. So he started to get information about his next show, so he could send those details to Yuri, and the other could get a flight. And then, Otabek could get a backstage pass for it, as well. He wanted Yuri to not just have to be a part of the crowd, but then he could spend some time with Otabek, or at least have access to him since he knew that it wasn't like Yuri would know many people at the show.

He hadn't been joking when he offered up space for him to stay, either (though he had opted to set up the spare room at his apartment, rather than disturbing his family). He would never tease or joke that space was offered, after all, since he so liked that he had someone to share this with now. Not only that, but Yuri could spend any spare time with him at home, or doing... whatever he wanted. He planned on taking him for a few spins on the motorcycle if they were so inclined. He had friends that he knew through DJing, and he had people he knew through skating (though he would say Yuri is the only friend he had made in the sport), but the two never really crossed. Yuri, though, he had trusted him enough to let him cross into both of these worlds. The only other people who really were active in both parts were members of his family, so that made his friendship with Yuri something completely different.

Yuri was special to him. Important.

He had shown his friend around where he was working, having arrived early. He led him towards the DJ booth, where all of Otabek's equipment had been set up. There was a lot of space in this booth, more than he typically got, which meant that this worked out all the better.

"This is where I'll be spending the night," Otabek said. "You don't have to stay here, if you don't want to, but you can." He nodded towards his pass. "You have that."

Yuri rarely did anything by half, and so when Otabek had invited him to come to Almaty- well, that was it. Yuri could hardly keep himself from waiting to go, let alone making the necessary arrangements so that it wouldn't give Yakov heart failure. In the end, he had told his trainer, if just to save him the heart attack. He needed him for the next season, after all. He'd had to do some negotiating- make sure to keep up with his practice, let Otabek's coach offer some judgement, though don't let him interfere, Yakov's list of instructions was only half listened to. Lilia had her own list as well- keep up with his barre, even if he had to improvise. Work on his extension, don't skip his stretching. He would only be gone for two weeks, and yet they were speaking as though by doing so he would undo a life time of training. It was extremely difficult to keep from rolling his eyes when they took him to the airport, to get one last lecture in before he had boarded.

He'd been in a state of jittery excitement for the duration of the plane ride, and hadn't been able to contain himself when he'd finally seen Otabek. Leaping into the other's arms with a grin and winding around the other like a koala with the excited exclamation of 'Otabek!!'

He should have contained himself better, perhaps, but he was just so grateful to see the other, after wanting to so badly since Otabek had first invited him- he couldn't be blamed for his enthusiasm.

Tonight was a different sort of excitement, a more anxious sort of energy pulsing through him. He was going to meet people Otabek liked outside of skating, people who he had known for far longer than Yuri, for whom no one else had probably been introduced to. Would he make a good impression? Would Otabek think he was lame, outside of the rink?

Yuri had dressed himself in his favourite pair of red jeans, paired with his red leopard print sneakers and a black, loose and light fitting zip up hooded jacket with a leopard print lining. It was spiked with studs along the button holes. The shirt underneath was leopard print, too- artfully torn along the shoulders, arms, and back. It hung loose on him, but somehow still felt like a suit of armour; a second skin to hide his nerves behind. He'd pulled on some elaborate gold and silver bangles around his wrists, wore a low hanging gold chain around his neck decorated with a black cat pendant. He'd looked at himself in the mirror after dressing- and abruptly debated changing. If not for Otabek saying it was time for them to go, he might have.

Stepping into the club had tension rising through Yuri, drawing his shoulders tight and his lips thin as his sharp eyes took it all in. He almost looked as though he disapproved- but that wasn't the case, at all. He was impressed. He hadn't exactly known what to expect, having never been to a club before. Let alone with a VIP ticket hanging around his neck, behind his black cat. He whistled out at the equipment, touching the edge of the sound board softly, but not daring to interfere with anything. This was Otabek's space, he knew what he was doing, and he didn't want to mess anything up for the other.

"This is cool," Yuri remarked, gazing down towards where the dance floor was, and finally- finally giving the other a soft, yet nervous quirk of his lips- followed by a thumbs up, "I look forward to seeing you from both sides- up here, and down there." He wondered if Otabek would even be able to see him from up here, once people started really crowding in.

Otabek had gone to pick him up at the airport (sure to arrive early, just in case), just glad to have his friend with him for a couple of weeks. Yuri's enthusiasm made him happy, although it'd be hard to tell if you didn't know him. He was a proper balance to his friend. Yuri's loud joy was matched by Otabek's calm happiness.

They both arrived to his apartment, and he made sure that Yuri was settled into the room he'd have for the next couple of weeks. He expected that the room would almost excursively used for Yuri to keep his things, changing clothes, or sleeping. He knew that they'd spend their downtime mostly hanging out together in the living room. Or that was what he hoped.

He was dressed neatly in head-to-toe black. Everything fit neatly and perfectly. In the booth, Otabek's demeanor was similar to it on the ice. Calm, serious, but Yuri would be able to easily see that this was fun for him. He was at ease here. His fingers moved over the board, fiddling with some settings so they were where he wanted them to be. The movement was slow, graceful.

He was glad Yuri liked it. He was sure that he would get along with the people Otabek knew here. And even if he didn't, Otabek didn't really care. He wasn't caught up much in what people thought of him. Yuri was his friend. Yuri was important to him. It seemed simple to him.

Otabek would have trouble seeing him, once Yuri was down in the crowd. But he'd still look for him from where he was. "And you can come up here at any time." Yuri was his guest, after all.

A couple of others approached, one close to Otabek's size. He was broader, with a lop-sided grin, and he was the first to offer his hand to Yuri in greeting. He noted that he knew Otabek from this work, specifically - and they had done shows together before. He tapped Otabek on the back, wished him luck, then moved away. The other was taller, thinner, and quiet, and most definitely distracted. He nodded, got Yuri's name, and then moved around all of them, checking the equipment to make sure that everything was ready.

He fiddled with a few pieces, and Otabek's eyes drifted away from the introductions, to him. Otabek said a few things in Kazakh to him, and he nodded. He checked a couple more things before he shifted away.

"You meet interesting people DJing." Otabek finally said to Yuri. It was clear, though, from the simple interactions, that his friendship with them was different than with Yuri. "They seem to like you though."

It was nice to have someone who was able to catch him, without having a fear of hurting the other in doing so. Yuri hadn't remembered himself until he'd been climbing out of the other's arms, a little sheepish- but still beaming, just to be in the other's presence.

"Yo," had been Yuri's simple greeting to both Otabek's friends, shaking their hands and offering a sharp look, but these were punctuated with faint smiles. A little terse, sure, but it was from more of a guarded place than any disinterest in wanting to meet Otabek's other friends. He actually kind of liked the quiet guy, it meant a little less worry in regards to socializing.

"I can imagine you would," he agreed, offering the other a softer, brighter smile for it, before coming closer to the other and elbowing him gently in the side, flashing him a grin with teeth, before gazing back towards the turntables and dials before him, "So what are you going to play tonight, DJ? Something special for me, I hope," he blushed, even as he said it. Wondering if he was overstepping his bounds by making such a statement, knowing that he was being bold- but he was the Ice Tiger of Russia; it wasn't for him to tiptoe fearfully around anything.

A small, genuine smile appeared. It seemed to be one that was reserved for Yuri, since it only really was clearly there when the others were gone, or too preoccupied to notice. It wasn't that he didn't smile and have fun with his other friends, but there was a particular sincerity when with Yuri that he had never found before.

"Don't let them fool you, they're both very talkative once they know someone well." He knew from experience. Once they found common ground, it was hard to get someone to stop. Otabek always seemed to provide a quiet balance to their desire to talk with him about music, only speaking when he felt something needed to be said.

When Yuri asked him about his music. "I do have something new I'm playing," Otabek answered. The next part of his answer came easily after a moment. "I was thinking of you when I worked on it." His answer was direct, blunt. It was how he always approached things. And of course, it was honest. He did think of his friend when he worked. He did sometimes consider whether or not Yuri would like something of his.

He thought that Otabek looked really nice when he smiled. Yuri knew just how rare they were, and was all the more charmed to see it because of it.

"You really thought of me while creating something?" Yuri asked, blushing as the other admitted it, touched by the words, let alone the gesture. "Don't tell me when it comes on- I want to see if I can guess, and if I'm not already up in the booth with you- I'll head up and come tell you that I think it's the right song,"

He blushed, but was still smiling as he bumpd his elbow softly against the other's, not wanting to mess up what Otabek was working on setting up, but wanting to establish some further closeness.

"I think you'll be able to tell," he answered easily. He flushed a little himself, pleased with everything going on. He was happy to have his friend here. He was glad he was getting to have Yuri listen to the songs inspired by him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was a little nervous Yuri wouldn't like the music that he had inspired. And to Otabek, that would be the worst.

He wouldn't let himself be deterred by the possibility of rejection of his music, though. He was mostly sure Yuri would like it. He hoped so much he wouldn't let his friend down.

"I really did think of you. I hope you like it." Otabek offered a small smile, resting a hand on Yuri's shoulder, as he leaned a little into his space.

Otabek had neatly organized a room in his apartment for Yuri when the other was coming to visit him. Fresh sheets and a neatly organized space that Yuri could have all to himself when there. He never really thought much about how useful an extra bedroom would be until he had made a friend who actually wanted to come see him.

It was later in the afternoon, and Otabek was thinking about what to prepare lunch for the both of them. He moved around his kitchen, in relative silence. He was getting a couple of plates out of the cabinet, that was a little bit above his head. Opening and closing his fridge,and a few other things. Otabek could cook, sure, he ate well and healthy - he had to considering the sport that he participated in.

He thought maybe a quick meal would be the best option, though. He had a guest here, and he didn't want to spend too much time doing other things around the kitchen. He wanted to entertain Yuri and keep him company. He was already planning on a no-cooking-required dinner. He'd prefer to spend any time that he would normally spend in his kitchen, with Yuri instead.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, eyes drifting towards Yuri. "And I hope sandwiches are fine. I'll get takeout for dinner." He hesitated. "Or we can go out if you want."

Edited 2017-02-23 02:30 (UTC)

Even though Yuri was technically a guest, Yuri still found it difficult to just watch the other, and sit still. He wanted to help out with dinner- but when he'd offered Otabek had said it wasn't really necessary. So instead, he was trying to keep himself occupied in other ways- by watching the other work, while doing some stretching.

Okay, so maybe hanging upside down off of the other's couch, one leg hooked over the back as he pulled the other down towards his head with his arms wasn't really any traditional stretch, but Yuri liked the feeling. Yuri knew that if he was going to keep his flexibility as he kept growing, he had to make sure to stretch out his muscles as much as possible- keep them used to the feeling of being loose, and limber.

He cocked his head slightly sideways as Otabek addressed him, still gripping his ankle and keeping it close to the side of his head, before letting it go, letting it come to rest with the other over the back of the couch.

"I wouldn't mind a glass of water. And sandwiches are great," he assured the other gently, before shrugging, "Whatever you'd like for dinner- but I wouldn't mind staying in tonight," the admittance was soft, but honest. He'd gotten off the plane and had spent that same night in the club with Otabek. To say he was still hosting a little bit of a sense of jet lag wouldn't be an incorrect assessment. It wasn't that he was tired- not yet, at least, but the idea of staying in, sharing the couch with Otabek and eating takeout out of cardboard cartons sounded just fine to him.

As far as Otabek was concerned, Yuri was a guest in his home. That meant that he wouldn't be doing cooking or any other things around the apartment. He didn't mind doing this at all, and he wasn't bothered being watched. His attention diverted to Yuri for a moment, watching him stretch. Yuri's flexibility was impressive. He gathered things from the fridge for a sandwich (meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato), and the bread.

Before he put it together, though, he'd get Yuri a glass of water. He shuffled, getting a cup from the cabinet, and filling it before heading over to the couch and offering it to his friend.

"Sandwiches. And...ordering in for dinner, then." That was the conclusion he had drawn from Yuri's answer, at least. And he didn't blame him. Personally, he'd prefer to stay in tonight. He could turn on a movie, and they could sit on the couch and be comfortable as they ate. Enjoying each other's company without worrying about others around them was appealing to him in a lot of ways. He liked just sitting with Yuri and talking with him.

He had ideas of what he wanted to do with Yuri when he was here, and most of these things were not time sensitive. None of them were necessary.

"And maybe we can watch a movie, too."

Yuri would see about that as the days progressed. He wasn't going home without making Otabek some pirozhki if he had anything to say about it. And as for the cleaning- well, he'd make sure to clean up after himself, and insist on helping with the dishes whenever they made them. Yuri wasn't some invalid who needed someone to do everything for him, after all. He'd been helping his grandpa with housework for as long as he could remember.

"Yeah?" Yuri smiled at the suggestion of the movie, watching from his perch upside down as Otabek walked over with the glass of water. He reached out to take it- before pausing, and realising that trying to drink it upside down probably wasn't the wisest decision he could make, so with a soft huff he rolled himself sideways, legs flopping down over the end of the couch, before scooting to sit up properly so that he could take the glass from him. "What movie did you have in mind?"

This would be another window into giving him insight about Otabek's likes, and dislikes, and Yuri's heart fluttered in excitement. In the realm of possibility that opened before him from something so simple as the offer of a movie. Yuri didn't watch a lot of movies himself; he didn't have as much time for it as he wanted to. But, he enjoyed them now and again- and he went out of his way to see anything with talking cats.

Otabek wanted his friend to be comfortable in his home. So he'd do whatever he could to ensure that Yuri felt at home in his own home. He knew if these couple of weeks went well, it set a good precedent for future visits, either him going to St. Petersburg or Yuri coming to Almaty. You tended to learn a lot about someone after spending some time living with them, or sharing a space. And up until Yuri's arrival, he hoped that Yuri's perception of him wouldn't change.

Though once he was there, any worries were gone. It felt quite comfortable having him here, even after only a short time - so far.

He considers Yuri's question. He didn't have a particular in mind. He didn't watch many movies himself. His time mostly consumed with either work as a figure skater, which was most of what he did, or his work as a DJ. He seemed to favor easy to watch films, though. Something that he didn't have to pay too hard of attention to. He figured that something like that would be good for them, as well.

Something easy. "There's a couple zombie movies on Netflix I've been meaning to check out. Of course, we can also check Netflix Roulette and see if anything interesting randomly comes up." He didn't have a particular movie in mind, really. He didn't know what sort of movies Yuri liked, either, and he knew that what he liked sometimes weren't for everyone.

He couldn't help but laugh at the other's suggestion, his grin spreading. "Brain eating and lunch? Sound perfect," Yuri grinned, "We can have our own marathon. Relax and have lunch and watch a movie, go out for a quick run or a walk or do some yoga," because they definitely needed to keep at least a little active, even if they didn't go out to do so, "And then dinner and more zombies?"

He finished putting together their sandwiches, and moved back towards the couch, offering one plate to Yuri for his. He was still learning a lot about his friend, so he was cherishing the opportunities. He was going to figure out what the other liked to eat, or what movies he liked. "We'll eat and movie. After the movie we can go on a run and do some yoga." He never went days without at least going on a run. They both worked hard to maintain their bodies for their sport. Otabek wasn't particularly flexible, but yoga helped him to maintain what he had. He was looking forward to seeing Yuri do it, though.

He never would figure Yuri someone who would just want to sit around doing nothing all day. He didn't, either. "Then takeout and more zombies." Sounded like a fun day to him, actually.

Otabek doesn't like this job the moment he gets it. He's not in a position where he can turn it down, either. It wasn't like one could be picky when they were being sent out to assassinate someone. Still, something about this put him on edge. He preferred to keep himself distance from his kills. He sometimes didn't even learn their names, going into it with only a picture, and some details on where he could find them. This job was different, though.

He was given a name, a photo, and a detailed report on what he would have to be doing. This Yuri was important. It would't be an easy kill, which was why they had set him up the way he had. He would be going on as the young man's personal bodyguard. Much to his chagrin. This would mean getting way more personal than he was comfortable with doing.

He'd have to be so very careful.

He'd have to make sure he never forgot what he was there to do.

He'd have to make sure he did it quickly, too. The sooner he got this job over with, the better. Too long would make it too easy to make mistakes. And Otabek Altin did not make mistakes on the job.

A meeting had been set up for him to meet Yuri. The young man he was going to be acting as a personal body guard for, and then - soon - killing him. He spoke with other members of security in Russian. They talked, he had to put on a show, laughing and smiling. He had to seem like he was so glad to be there.

Finally, an older man approached him. He wanted them to be formally introduced. After all, they would be spending a lot of time together. His expression got serious, and he nodded. He followed him to Yuri.

Once there, he offered him his hand. "Otabek."

The bonus of having the job he did meant that no matter how much damage he did at times, no one really knew who he was.

Yuri Plisetsky.

When children had been going to high school to learn how to function in a business centric world, Yuri had been learning the most painful methods of pulling out a person's teeth. How to bend a finger until it broke, how to fillet a human calf, and keep the victim alive through it all.

Yuri Plisetsky. He'd hardly been sixteen, when he'd killed his first man. Self-defense, sure- but a death on his hands, nonetheless.

That had been years ago, now.

In another lifetime his thin, lithe figure would have lent itself to dance, or gymnastics. Perhaps skating- in this lifetime, it was a vicious tool, every muscle honed to action, and reaction. An unapologetically deadly instrument; heir to one of Russia's most dangerous and greatest crime families.

And for that, he had thought himself untouchable.

No doubt there were dozens, perhaps even hundreds that would have wished him to see his end, but they had always been too slow, too clumsy. Not good enough. It may have gone to Yuri's head, just a little. But of course he would never admit to anything that might have been seen as a personal failure. Those insecurities had been locked away, buried so deep that most days Yuri could forget he had ever had them at all.

The thought, then, that he needed a bodyguard was laughable, at best. Insulting, at worst. Yet his dedushka insisted; and when had he ever been able to deny the old man anything?

It as a bold choice, meeting this allegedly hand-picked man alone- well, sort of. Otabek was lead through an extremely lavish restaurant, to a private booth where Yuri waited. Sprawled elegantly across the leather half-moon shaped sofa, running a black leather gloved finger around the rim of a frosted glass. It was easy to guess that the clear liquid inside he was savouring likely wasn't water; yet, it did nothing to dull his sharp, fierce eyes. The judgemental stare he immediately fixed Otabek with. Sizing him up.

He didn't take the other's hand. Instead, reached to the pocket of his tight, black jeans. His hair hung loose and messy around his face, a heavy loose fitting leather studded jacket thrown over a leopard print shirt so tight it seemed painted on. The sleeves of his leather jacket were three-quarter length, and the leopard print shirt underneath was rolled up around them, giving a ring of the pattern around the leather.

From his pocket, he flipped out a butterfly knife, playing with it with elegant motions of long, gloved fingers as he stared the other down.

"If I told you to slit your wrist with this, now, here, would you do it?" he demanded, snapping the knife out properly, moving his hand away from the glass of vodka, leaning forward towards the table between them, knife poised in the air beside his own face.

Otabek, truly, had been handpicked for this. For someone as sought after as Yuri, it was wise to find someone capable to guard Yuri. It would not only take someone who was able to deal with outside threats, but also someone capable of dealing with Yuri himself. Otabek had led his life rather unphased in dealing with individuals. His unaffected state made him an ideal man for this job, even if he didn't like it.

They knew that if they needed someone to not end up making a mistake, they would call him. Otabek was dependable. And he'd seem dependable for as little or long as needed when dealing with Yuri.

Until he found the perfect time to rid himself of him. He preferred sooner, but knew that it wouldn't necessarily be possible.

He dropped his hand when the offer to shake Yuri's was rejected. His eyes and body not flinching once when the other spoke to him. It wasn't an unfamiliar question, if he was being honest. He'd have to earn trust, and trust was hard to come by when you shared the particular company Yuri did - at least in Otabek's experience. He didn't really trust anyone.

Without a second thought, his eyes fell on the knife for a single moment, before moving to look Yuri in the eye. They were dark, piercing. He wasn't bothered by the fierceness of Yuri's own.

"Yes," he answered easily. Though he knew, really, if Yuri had asked him of it and meant it, he'd just as easily take the knife to the young man's throat. Then, a few words followed his answer. "A dead guard is of little use to you, though."

Otabek hadn't moved to Saint Petersburg, but he would admit that he had been thinking about relocating there from Almaty since arriving (he considered this a trial of sorts). For the time being, though, he had learned that this was both a great place to train and to spend time with Yuri. Otabek had gotten his own place, and got a short-term lease for the apartment. He only intended to stay a few months, after all. Otabek had been enjoying it, really.

Spending a lot of time apart, when they were starting to date, had been difficult. The timing to change where he was training was perfect, and this turned into a way for them to start spending more time together, to see if they really wanted to bond. He didn't want either of them to make the choice too quickly, to make such a decision for their future without both of them being completely confident. And they'd only really know after spending some time together.

So they had been.

And while they weren't living with each other, Otabek found himself inviting Yuri to stay with him as often as he wanted. And the more time he spent here, the easier it became for him to think of moving here permanently.

But something recently had been bothering him. Something about Yuri had seemed off. He always kept a pretty close eye on him, mostly because it was just hard for him to keep his eyes off of Yuri. He seemed...different. He couldn't figure it out. He'd asked if he was alright, a couple of times, but if anything was going on, Yuri wasn't telling him.

Otabek kept things up as normal, knowing that if things continued, he'd insist that a doctor visit would have to be a thing. They'd go to practice, as expected, get food, and spend their evenings together. Maybe Yuri would stay the night, if he wanted.

This morning started normally. Otabek woke up early, to go for a morning run. He always listened to music before he got back to his apartment and got himself ready for their morning training. He was an early riser, enjoying getting up and spending quiet mornings out before they went out to training.

He figured they could take his motorcycle to training today. Yuri seemed to enjoy that time with him, and Otabek hoped to lift his spirits a little bit. He hoped the motorcycle ride would do that. There'd be no conversation for the duration, just the two of them, the sounds of the motorcycle, and the wind.

The long term relationship that they had initially shared was harder on Yuri than he ever cared to admit. Being away from Otabek for long periods of time with little but texting and skyping to tide him over was a physical ache in his chest. He wondered if this was what being bonded was like; he'd read about it before, how extended distance caused real, physical pain. It seemed ridiculous to be so attached already- yet whenever Yuri had put any thought to it, he knew that there was no one else he would rather be with. He couldn't imagine anyone else being at his side, sharing his heats, maybe building a life together.

He knew though, that that was getting a little ahead of himself.

While he had been ready after his first heat for such a commitment, Otabek was nowhere near as impulsive. He was far more reasonable than Yuri. After all, they had really only spent a handful of days with one another in truth. They had to consider things like how they might mesh living together, where they would want to live. So often, Otabek had come to Yuri- but Yuri loved Almaty, just as much. Before his last heat, he had asked Otabek not to come. And then had shown up on Otabek's doorstep, to enjoy a heat in the other's bed too.

Since they were both skaters, their schedules were, for the most part, synced enough. They both got up early, they both liked to run and exercise. Their gym routines differed, but at least they could still spend them together.

Lately, though, Yuri had been feeling... much more tired than usual. He couldn't explain it, couldn't quite understand it either. He'd been gaining weight, too, which he chalked up to his metabolism changing- so he had been more strict about his diet, watching what he ate and sticking to water, the occasional cup of black coffee for a pick me up in the mornings. He couldn't seem to make it out of bed without it, lately.

That morning he had slept right through his alarms, barely waking up in time to swear and throw on some of his training clothes and a little deodorant. He hadn't gone running, hadn't done any of his stretches- was barely even dressed, by the time Otabek showed up to pick him up. He had looked out the window to see the other waiting down on the street and swore under his breath, grabbing a hair tie to deal with his mess of blond hair later, and pulling on the first pair of sneakers he found. He hadn't even kissed Korolevna goodbye that morning; just grabbed his skates and stumbled down the stairs, hoping he didn't look half the wreck he felt.

"Otabek," he greeted as he burst out onto the street, before swearing beneath his breath. He'd forgotten his jacket upstairs.

Otabek was glad to see Yuri and the moment he did, a lot of his worries subsided. They always did when he saw him. Although he knew it was unusual for him to be running late. They both liked to spend their trainings together, so they made an effort to always make it there in a timely manner. He hadn't minded waiting for Yuri to get there. He'd wait hours for him as long as it meant that he knew they were spending time together. He was a sap like that, and he knew it. (He'd never actually say that though.)

To him, Yuri didn't look like a mess at all. Maybe a little scattered, and running late, but that was it. He tugged Yuri into a hug the moment he was close enough to him, burying his face in his hair for a moment.

"Do you need to get your jacket?" he asked. He didn't mind waiting a few extra moments to let Yuri go retrieve it if he needed it. He wouldn't question him if he said he didn't want to go back and get it. Otabek felt it was best, just because it could get a little windy and cold while riding, but Yuri knew that. Before even waiting for an answer, he asked another question.

"How are you feeling this morning, Yura?" he asked, using the affectionate name. He had been asking him that more and more lately. Ever since he noticed something was a little off.

"Shit," he muttered beneath his breath, dragging a hand through his rumpled unbrushed hair, before sighing and smiling a little as he pressed into the warmth of the other's embrace, his eyes closing. Briefly just letting himself enjoy the moment, before sighing and drawing a little further away.

"I should probably go get it," he muttered, "Sorry, Beka. I'll be right back." Leaning up he pressed his lips to the corner of Otabek's mouth, before gently pushing his skates into the other's hands so that Otabek could put them in the bike's travel compartment with his own, before twisting away, rushing back upstairs for his jacket. In his apartment, he had paused- had stared at his Russian team jacket, had even reached for it- and then abruptly changed his mind, grabbing one that Otabek had forgotten there a few nights ago, and hadn't bothered to reclaim just yet.

Wrapping himself in the scent of his lover made him feel a little less frazzled, a little more human. He tucked his face into the collar, drawing in a deep breath, before sighing out and heading back downstairs to meet with the other again.

Pointedly avoiding the question of how he was feeling, hoping that in the interim delay, Otabek would have just forgotten about asking. Or would assume Yuri was feeling okay. That way, Yuri didn't have to lie. He couldn't, not to Otabek. But he also didn't want to admit just how... tired he felt lately.

It was an admirable attempt on Yuri's part, but Otabek wasn't about to drop it. He didn't forget that he had asked, and he realized that Yuri hadn't answered him. As he waited, he put Yuri's skates in the travel compartment, closing it tight before Yuri makes his way back. He's patient, but he is worried. And the worry is starting to edge into the instinct that he naturally has to protect - born from the fact that they started off as friends before they were lovers. Even though they were not bonded, he saw himself as Yuri's Alpha, so that protective nature he felt towards Yuri had only become more obvious.

When Yuri approaches him again, he notices that he's in the jacket he had left there. He feels something in his chest seeing Yuri wear something of his, and there's a twitch to the corner of his mouth. He half-smiles.

When he sees Yuri again, he walks towards him so that they could walk together and talk for a moment before getting on the bike. "So..." he starts again, he wants Yuri to know that he can't dodge the question. "Are you alright?" The question had changed, just slightly. It was no longer a 'how are you feeling', but there was rather a hint of suspicion that Yuri was, in fact, not feeling alright.

Catching the other's mild smile reward Otabek with one of Yuri's own. An expression soft, and sort of shy, and only ever drawn out by the other. Reaching down, he zipped up the jacket, before linking his fingers with one of Otabek's hand, leaning against the other's shoulder as they walked the short distance towards the bike.

He hesitated a little at the other pressing the question, though. Letting out a slow, drawn out sigh. He reached for his helmet, pulling it over his head and snapping it in place underneath his chin, before finally allowing himself to reply. He had needed a minute to think, after all.

"I think so. I'm just... feeling really tired, lately. I slept through my alarm," he admitted, a little sheepishly, before rolling his shoulders in a shrug, waiting for the other to get on the bike so that he could settle behind him, "It's no big deal. I probably just haven't been getting enough sleep, lately." Carefully omitting that he'd scarcely been awake enough after training had finished to make himself dinner, before crawling into bed and falling asleep- and then sleeping in late.

Edited 2017-03-15 04:54 (UTC)

Otabek didn't like the way that sounded. The fatigue could mean a lot of things, but it mostly meant to him that Yuri was probably coming down with something. Keeping their health was an important part of their jobs, and not only that - he wanted Yuri to be healthy and happy. He climbed onto the front of the motorcycle, scooting forward so Yuri could climb on behind him.

He wouldn't start the motorcycle until he said what he most wanted to say. "If it keeps up, you're going to a doctor." Not a question, just a simple statement. It didn't much sound like a command coming form him, either. But Yuri had to know, Otabek was sure of it, that he'd drag him to the doctor if he had to, in order to be sure that he was taken care of and healthy.

He wanted to be sure that whatever was going on was something they could take care of right away. Better do it now before whatever sickness was lurking got worse. A day or two off of training was better than a week forced off by sickness, he knew.

After a moment, he is sure to add. "Before it gets much worse." Because there was always the possibility. He fully expected that in some level, he'd be argued with over going to the doctor. Although he had already determined he'd drag Yuri if he had to, he'd prefer if the other went willingly.

It was the last thing he'd say before they'd start towards the rink.

Yuri swung himself onto the motorcycle behind the other, nuzzling his cheek against the other's back gently.

"I won't need a doctor," he grumbled softly, "It'll be no big deal. I promise, I'm not feeling sick, just tired," he pouted, despite knowing the other couldn't see it, "But if I'm still tired in a few days, if it makes you feel better I'll go."

He knew he had to concede this to Otabek. The other wouldn't let him off without agreeing to it, and he knew from experience that Otabek could be just as stubborn as he was, even if he was a little quieter about it.

He nudged Otabek to get going, then, glad for the lapse of silence between them, an the roar of the engine that filled it. It was nice, knowing that they could be as comfortable in silence as they were in conversation. Lapses with Otabek never felt awkward, or forced. Yuri never felt like he ought to fill the silence with something, which wasn't true of anyone else he'd ever encountered. It was a part of what made him love the other so damned much.

The rumble of the engine between his thighs, the feel of Otabek's back against his chest, his arms around the other's waist- if not for the rushing wind against his cheeks he might have been able to fall asleep like that. Of course, there was some seriously inherent danger with that idea, which was all the more reason for him to make sure he stayed awake.

Still, when they reached the rink he leaned back on the bike and yawned, stretching his arms above his head, his back and shoulders releasing a few soft pops, before slid off the bike, tucking his hands into his jacket, and smiling at Otabek.

"I want to see you get that extra height and rotation out today," he chided softly, before leaning forward to catch the other's lips in a soft kiss, "And I also want you to braid my hair before we get onto the ice." His hair, which if it hadn't been a rat's nest before, was an absolute disaster now as he unclipped his helmet.

( showtime in almaty )

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( around the apartment )

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mafias

this tag is so extra he gets it from viktor

laughing still i love him

bebbins

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