bringbackgold | Catchall (for bespredel)

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.

Otabek only grunted, sounding happy when Yuri had agreed to the doctor. It would make him feel a lot better, and he was glad - if for no other reason - that Yuri agreed to go to make him feel better. It's silly, but he was sure that this was what was feeling off about Yuri, so if they could put it to rest, he could let it go.

On the motorcycle, once he goes, he feels Yuri relaxing against him, although the other's grip on him is secure. Yuri shifts his weight appropriately, goes with the flow of the bike. He feels content in the silence. Otabek has always liked his motorcycle because of it, and while riding - Yuri never seemed to really find a need to fill that silence with him.

It was why Yuri was so readily invited to always ride with him.

At the rink, he parks it, using the kickstand, and then letting Yuri get off first. He follows after him, returning the soft kiss happily. A small, half-grin reserved for Yuri when the other gives him that kiss. He reaches his fingers up to brush through Yuri's messy locks, and nodded. "Alright, I'll braid your hair. Let's go inside."

He tugged off his own helmet, brushing his fingers through it a few times, then took out their skates. He handed Yuri's to him, then reached reached for Yuri's free hand so they could walk together inside. "And I'm working on getting that height." He has done the jumps, but he was inconsistent. And that was no good for competition.

He walked with the other into the rink, to the locker rooms first so that they could rid themselves of their outer layers and he could braid Yuri's hair before they would hit the ice.

They didn't need to say much else, Yuri with his skates draped over his shoulder, his other hand in Otabek's. This, despite the mishaps of his mornings start, was certainly a good morning indeed.

"We should have stopped for coffee," Yuri grumbled, but it was only half a complaint. There was always coffee for them at the rink, although more for the coaches than the skaters. Yuri liked the occasional morning pick me up- but lately, the thought of coffee had made him feel nauseous. The smell of it worse. He just chalked it up to never having been a heavy coffee drinker in the first place.

"If you get that height and land your jumps consecutively three times, I'll blow you in the locker room," Yuri flashed the other a grin, nudging his elbow into the other's side, and raising his eyebrows suggestively, before laughing brightly as they made their way into said locker rooms, to put on their skates and finish getting ready.

Otabek shot Yuri a glance when the offer was made. "I'll hold you to that," he said, moving towards a bench in the locker room, and pulling off his jacket and scarf. Underneath, he wore a black v-neck tee with his black pants. He folded them neatly and then sat down on the bench, tugging off his shoes and starting to put on his skates. It was motivating, really, to get the reward. But with his luck, he'd nail the jump twice then flub on the third and that would be how it'd go through the day.

Still, he had managed only do two consecutively so far, and it'd be nice to beat that at some point. The reward mad it a little bit sweeter. He secured his skates, staying quiet as he got himself ready, but glancing over to Yuri off and on.

"And if you wanted coffee, you should have said. We could have stopped." He only occasionally drank it himself, sometimes the buzz it provided was more than he wanted.

Once he knew his skates were secure, he walked towards Yuri, guards still on, fingers moving through his hair. Just this small action was relaxing for himself. Being close to Yuri, knowing he was there and close to him made him always feel better. The thought that at some point he'd have to return to Almaty always made his stomach twist.

A feeling he'd almost immediately squash with the fact that he was going to eventually end up living here, and he knew it.

"You know I'll make good on it," Yuri grinned, pinching his tongue between his teeth as he gave the other a thumbs up, just a little bit of a smirk curling on his lips while he was at it. Smug in his offer, knowing that it would be an excellent motivator for the other out on the ice. Not that Yuri wouldn't have blown him anyway, but games like this between them were fun. Yuri didn't think anything would ever get boring between him and Otabek, when they both made sure to keep things interesting like this.

Bending over on the bench, Yuri slid off his own shoes and started to pull on his skates, shrugging at the other's offer.

"I know, but I didn't really think of it until we got here. The ride was relaxing, I was more focused on that than having coffee," he huffed out a breath, before leaning back, pulling up one of his legs onto the bench, and stretching sideways towards it, gripping the bottom of his skate guards with his hands as he pulled himself sideways. He hadn't stretched that morning, so he ought to do it now, after all. He shifted out of the pose, before scooting onto the floor to make room for Otabek, sliding his other leg out to do the same to it, before going into resting splits while Otabek braided his hair. The last thing on his mind, the thought of Otabek going back to Almaty. The thought of it made his stomach twist, his mouth go dry and anxiety rise. So he didn't like to linger on it at all.

Otabek moved his fingers through Yuri's hair as he braided it. Worry fading the more that he touched and stayed close. He watched him stretching quietly. He had stretched before he had left, so he was feeling as limber as he ever feels (which isn't to say that he's particularly flexible). Usually, they both did. That meant Yuri really had slept through his alarm.

He loved to do this with Yuri. He liked opportunities to touch like this. He had learned to braid hair, really, as a result of being with Yuri. And it was a skill he never regretted gaining. It was a small, intimate moment that he so often desired. "They'll have some brewed that you can get up before getting on the ice if you think it'll help," he said.

He shifted, having finished the braid, and moved his fingers over the skin of Yuri's neck. "Let me know if you start feeling tired, we can cut it short. I'll make sure to get you a nice bath ready when we get home, too." Cutting it short wouldn't be acceptable, and he knew it. Yakov wouldn't like that, and he knew Yuri wouldn't like it, but - well, health was more important. He knew the coach would understand that.

Yuri was calmed immensely by the act of the other's fingers stroking through his hair, calming his wild tangles and turning his mop of a mess into something manageable on the ice. His braid was getting long enough that his braid had a habit of slapping him in the face during the more dramatic twists jumps, and spins, but he supposed that was some of the price for fame, or some sort of saying like it.

"The coffee here is shit," and for emphasis he made an ugly face, tongue hanging out in a mockery of gagging, before huffing and leaning back against the other's lap now that Otabek had finished his braid. "A bath sounds nice," he admitted softly, "But you know Yakov would kill me. And castrate you for the idea," he rose his brows at the other before huffing out a breath of laughter, and patting the other's thigh.

"Come on, lets get out onto the ice for warm up," he shifted, rolling onto his feet, shedding his jacket and hanging it up with Otabek's, before leading their way onto the ice.

They had to go their separate ways a bit, then. Working through warm ups tailored to their own styles, enough room on the rink for all the skaters present to do so comfortably.

Usually, when Yuri hit the ice it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him. The ice was all that existed, his body an extension of his skates, of the music he could hear in his head, in his heart, whether it was actually playing or not. Today, though, he couldn't seem to focus. Every motion taking extra effort. His step sequence felt clumsy, his Ina Bauer not steeply arched enough. He launched into the air; a combination jump triple toe loop into a double axel. The first, was supposed to be a quad. He grimaced, his head spinning, his focus waning further. He should have known better then, than to push it. Yet he continued, breathing out, drawing his leg up and preparing for his signature Biellmann spin. It was going perfectly well-

Until suddenly, it absolutely wasn't anymore.

Yuri felt dizzy, and not just the usual amount that came with the spinning motion of the Biellmann. His vision was blackening at the edges- he had to stop. Couldn't breath. Couldn't... the leg he was balanced on shook, and Yuri let go of his leg abruptly, dropping out of the position too early, narrowly getting his other foot underneath him before he hit the ice, panting hard as he sprawled, and spun across the ice on his ass.

Edited 2017-03-15 09:53 (UTC)

Training on the ice had been going pretty well for Otabek. He hadn't landed the three jumps consecutively, but he was sure that he would be able to do it today with how well it was going. One jump, second jump - he'd touch down. Then one jump, two, third he'd touch down. He wouldn't get enough height. Or he'd over rotate and barely become able to keep himself from falling. Though he'd be able to land two in a row more than he ever had before. He'd be able to do it.

He skated, went from a spread eagle into a quad toe loop. Once. Done, he moves to skate around the ice a second time to start to attempt to do it again. Spread eagle, into a quad toe loop. He jumps, getting good height, and lands it for a second time. Finally. It takes a lot of stamina to keep at this. He gives himself a moment, lazily standing in an inside spread eagle when he hears Yakov shout something. He's used to that, actually.

When the two of them practiced, they kept apart. They both had their own styles and needs when they did. He tried not to watch Yuri when he practiced, and if he were anywhere but on the ice, it'd be difficult. Once he hit the ice, though, he became focused and engulfed in what he was doing.

He decides that he's going to try it again, starting in his inside spread eagle, and preparing to go into the jump, when he hears Yakov again. This time, the voice isn't the same shout that he had heard moments ago. His concentration broke, and he fumbled before he was even able to get into the jump. He barely gets off the ground, before he's touching down with one hand.

His eyes shift to Yuri, and those jumps don't matter. Not even a little. Seeing Yuri there on the ice was an unusual sight. He recovers himself immediately, and as fast as his body lets him get there, he's at Yuri's side. He's glad his concern he'd been feeling wasn't just some paranoia or over-protectiveness driven by his nature as an Alpha. It was real.

He kneels down beside him, his typically steeled expression gone. He was worried - which even a stranger would be able to tell by looking at his face. "Yuri...?" he asked. He already knew their earlier discussion meant that if this were something he couldn't handle, then they'd be leaving. "What happened?"

His breathing was still uneven, struggled. He couldn't seem to get enough air, it was scaring him. When Otabek came over, Yuri stared at the other, wide-eyed. Trying to calm down. He reached out for Otabek, finding contact with the other's body calming as he let out sharp, shaking breaths.

"I just-" his voice sounded strangled even to his own ears, and he swallowed, took in another slow, shuddering breath to try and calm down. "I don't know," he admitted softly, his grip on the other's arm tightening a little, "I was in my spin- I started to get dizzy, I felt like I was going to black out, and I just... I had to sit down," so there he was. With the ice melting slowly underneath him, his stomach still in queasy knots.

Otabek's arms shift around Yuri, and he tilts his head, inviting Yuri to take in his scent and his warmth. He hopes that it helps calm him, knowing full well that being near Yuri helps ease him when he's not feeling well. All he wants to do is hold him, and he knows from that moment, they're going to have to get off the ice. Yuri can't be out there if he is getting dizzy.

"You're sick," he said quietly. He sounded...worried. His expression, though, was as even as expected. "I don't think you're okay." He wasn't going to suggest the doctor again, he'd let Yuri suggest it this time. He was thinking about the best way to get them off of the ice. "Do you think you can stand?" he asked.

He'd at least help guide him off of the ice, to get to the side of the rink. Then, he could get Yuri whatever he needed, including their supplies to leave so he could get him to a doctor. Though if he was feeling dizzy, Otabek knew he'd have to call a cab. He wasn't going to have Yuri attempt to ride on the back of the bike and risk anyone getting hurt.

He didn't need any further encouragement to bury his face into the other's neck, winding his arms around the other's back and sucking in shuddering breaths, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, grounding himself in the comforting scent of the other, the solid feel of his body against him.

"Just give me a second," he murmured, muffled into the other's skin. It took longer than a second, but eventually he nodded. Allowed Otabek to draw him up onto his feet, his legs feeling unsteady underneath him, glad for the other's arm around him, the help hold him up.

"I think I should probably go see that doctor, now," he mumbled softly as they slid towards the edge of the rink together.

"Way ahead of you," Yakov barked, his voice gruff as he gripped the side of the rink, scowling at the two as they slid closer, "You're going to give an old man a heart attack Yuri!"

Yuri sneered in response, huffing out a breath, "Can it old man." At least he wasn't sick enough to keep from being prickly.

Yakov huffed, "You have an appointment with your usual doctor in half an hour. You'd best get going if you're going to make it. Otabek- here," he threw the other a set of keys, scowling, "Take my car. I don't want to see him falling off that death trap of yours!"

Otabek holds Yuri close, from the moment he starts leading him off the ice, until they step off of it. He accepts Yakov's keys with a small, "Thank you." Because he had shared a similar concern with having Yuri climb onto the back of his bike. After what he had witnessed on the ice, he never would have let him ride on it and put him at such a great risk.

He helped Yuri get on the guards for their skates before heading towards the locker room to get them both ready to leave. He continues to hold him close, letting Yuri lean on him as much as he needed. He would offer to carry, but he doesn't want Yuri to think that he figures him incapable.

The worry he feels settled deep in his gut. He's worried for Yuri and what's happening. What if it is something serious? It could be nothing big - a cold, the flu, that'll take him out for a few days, and be taken care of with some antibiotics.

In the locker room, he settles Yuri on a bench so he can get his shoes on, but he gathers up most of their things himself.

"We'll figure out what's wrong, then go home and rest, alright?"

He might have let the other carry him right then; he felt so tired, so light headed. He wondered if it had something to do with not having had time to have breakfast that morning- but he knew deep down that there was a lot more to it than skipping breakfast that morning.

He felt nauseous with worry as he sat down on the bench, taking a moment and rubbing his stomach softly, before leaning forward to unlace his skates. Even this small action of leaning forward made him feel like he wanted to pass out, and he'd had to sit up slowly, shaking his head softly as he sat up.

"Yeah. I think that's a good idea," he mumbled, "Maybe run that bath you promised me. I'm sorry Otabek-" he deflated a little, his shoulders slumping, a slow breath shaking out of him, before he forced himself to give the other a weak wry smile. "I really wanted to blow you in the locker room," but that was an awful idea now, he knew. With him as light headed as he was-

Yuri didn't think Otabek would ever let him go down on him again if Yurio passed out with Otabek's cock in his mouth.

He's just finishing getting his shoes tied up when Yuri says that. He pauses, looks towards him, and blinks a few times. "We'll do it another time," he said. There was a slight joke in his tone. He was worried, but that joking helped ease a little bit of the tension that was very clearly in his body. When it came to Yuri, he often went through the worst possible things to prepare himself.

Shoes on, bags packed, and his own scarf and jacket on - he moved towards Yuri. He moves to kneel down in front of him, since he seems to be struggling a little with getting himself together. He offered Yuri the jacket he wore.

"Do you think you can walk?" he asked. He wanted to hold Yuri. He wanted to have him close, keep him safe. He wanted Yuri to know that he was there for him, too. There was nothing more important than him to Otabek. But, they would be at the Doctor before long. He'd just have to drive Yakov's car there. And once they knew, he could relax.

"Yeah," Yuri agreed, carefully pulling on his shoes, letting Otabek get their things together. It was probably for the best that he did, as much as Yuri didn't want to sit and be useless- he was tired again, exhausted to the marrow.

"I shouldn't have skipped breakfast this morning," he mumbled, sliding into the other's jacket, nuzzling the collar where Otabek's scent was strongest. "I think so, I just... maybe just hold me?" For balance, and for support. That was all he wanted, what he needed right then.

"God, just. What the fuck is wrong with me Otabek?" he whispered softly, a whine on the end of his question, "I've never felt so out of tune with my own body before."

Otabek moved one arm under Yuri's, helping him up, so that he knew that he could lean on him. Otabek wanted Yuri near him, to hold him and support him. He wanted him to know that he was there to help him, regardless of what was going on. He held Yuri close as he started walking with him out of the rink, and towards Yakov's car. That was his silent response to Yuri's request to be held. He hoped that if Yuri had wanted more than that, he'd be sure to let him know. Otabek would have been glad to offer it to him.

"I don't know, Yuri, but we'll find out soon. And the sooner we know, the sooner you'll feel better." It sounded like a promise, and it was. He knew that regardless as to what it was, a doctor would be able to help them figure out how what it is and how to help Yuri feel better and more at place in his body again. "I am sorry you're feeling bad, Yuri. I'm glad you're going to the doctor."

Of course, at this point, he didn't really have other options.

He tried not to lean on the other too heavily, not wanting to give Otabek further reason to worry. It was nice to have the other's support like this, and Yuri was reminded once again just how grateful he was for Otabek to be there with him. This, he felt, was more important than anything else. To think that he could have been dealing with whatever this was, alone...

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered, leaning over and pressing his lips softly against the other's jaw as they made their way out of the rink, before focusing on one foot over the other.

Yuri sunk into the passenger seat, blushing at the way Otabek held the door open for him. Pushing the other's shoulder softly, and teasing him for being such a gentleman. He huffed softly, before doing up his seat belt and kicking his feet up on the dashboard, staring out the window for a few moments, before closing his eyes. Starting to doze against his own best efforts.

The examination itself passed in a bit of a blur. Yuri explaining his symptoms, having his weight taken, his blood drawn. He'd gained ten pounds somewhere along the way, which Yuri could hardly believe. He'd always struggled to put on weight. He knew he scale had been climbing a little, but ten pounds? His blood pressure was low, too, which after a morning of training, even if short, was unusual.

They had to wait awhile, for his results to come back. When he did the doctor returned smiling.

"Well, Mr. Plisetsky, we have the results of your tests back. Congratulations, you're pregnant," he said it in a calm, matter of fact manner, his smile a little too terse to be genuine. Teenagers.

Yuri, still sitting on the examination table with his feet dangling, his hand in Otabek's- paled. His grip going tight on Otabek's hand.

"But I can't be pregnant!" he blurted out, "I'm on birth control!"

Everything seemed to go quickly, and while they were waiting, Otabek had let out a sigh of relief. They would know soon what was going on with Yuri,a nd then they could be sure that he was taken care of and healthy. Otabek sait next to the examination table in a chair, holding Yuri's hand when the Doctor returned. But the answer that the Doctor had given them was not the one that he had expected. The flu would have been no shock, but this - it came as a surprise.

Enough of a surprise that Otabek wasn't able to control the way his jaw went slack and his eyes went wide. That had to have been the first time that Yuri has seen the way that shock was on his features. His own hand gets tight in Yuri's. His eyes drift towards Yuri's abdomen. Not that he was expecting to see anything there, he just needed to see it.

The symptoms Yuri was experiencing, that he had known of, all seemed to make sense though with the context of pregnancy. And he wasn't about to debate a doctor. Still, Yuri was on birth control. He shouldn't have been able to get pregnant. They had shared his heats prior to the last one without this happening.

"There is always a small chance of failure with birth control," the Doctor had answered. And Yuri, of course, just happened to be included as one of the few who had it fail him.

Otabek's hand tightened on Yuri's, his body trying to relax, but it did make him a little nervous. And excited. And just the thought of having a child with Yuri made him happy. His mind was rushing everywhere, and he didn't say anything, just listened. "And Yuri's failed..." he said. There was no upset there, just a bit of awe.

The Doctor nodded. "I'll prescribe some vitamins, and get you some papers with information. Also, we can refer you to a good doctor." He seemed to be explaining this because they were young. "We'll get your first appointment scheduled for soon."

Otabek could only nod.

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