Chapter Text
It was going to be a rough night. Otabek already knew before he made his way down the hall. He had already decided he wasn't going to comfort or try to look on the brighter side. There would be no brighter side to the one who mattered.
He had planned ahead and borrowed a room key from Lilia. She gave him a critical eye when he had met up with her in the hotel lounge to retrieve it via his request, but at this point everyone knew he was the only one Yuri listened to when he was in a rage. And there would be hell to pay tonight.
Yuri had placed third in the GPF. He had accepted the bronze gracefully in every manner, but the darkness in his eyes told Otabek otherwise. He wouldn't even look at Victor or Yuuri - Gold and Silver medalists respectively - as he had left the ice. He barely looked at Otabek as he slammed his way through the locker room. Before he left Yuri had bumped his shoulder against Otabek's and the latter took that as a sign. An invitation even.
Card key ready and a small package hanging from his other arm he knocked on the hotel room door. When no reply came he knocked again. Months earlier he hadn't wanted to answer an insistent knocking on his door. He expected the same from the other. What surprised him was the lack of yelling and swearing he had expected. No reply came to his third attempt.
Deciding three times was polite enough he stuck the key card into the door, hearing the click that confirmed the lock had been released. He pocketed the card as he used his foot to nudge the door open.
Before he even fully entered a voice greeted him - "Go away."
"No." He pushed open the door, the light from the hallway shining into the otherwise mostly dark room. A dim light from the bathroom also glowed into the room causing double shadows to cross their path.
"I don't want to talk." Hard green eyes met his as he stood in the doorway. Green eyes as Otabek had always said were the eyes of a soldier. Yuri was once again fighting a new battle.
Otabek shrugged, letting himself farther in to the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. They remained standing there, staring at each other in silence. And there was problem number one and Otabek knew that. Yuri had grown just as he feared. In the middle of the season his height had gone up five centimeters. It was one thing to go through a late growth spurt during the short off season, but mid-season...it had impacted his mental state which in turn affected his skating.
He watched as Yuri narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared and the Kazakh braced himself for what was coming. "I FUCKING HATE THEM!" Yuri screamed, turning to hit the wall. His fist going to splay out against the hard surface. He stared at his open hand as if studying it.
"No, you don't." Otabek dared to reply, still not moving. He didn't even blink as Yuri spun around grabbing the front of his jacket.
"I hate their stupid skating and their stupid medals and their stupid scores and...and..." Yuri fell to his knees, his fingers still gripping Otabek's jacket with white knuckles. "I went from a fucking Gold to Bronze! Bronze!! And what did you get? Fourth! You were supposed to stand on that podium with me! What happened?" There was a small crack to his voice. "What happened...?"
Otabek finally sank to the floor and Yuri flung himself into his arms, burying his face against his chest. "It was Victor's return to the ice." He wasn't positive why he was trying to make any sense of this. Why he was looking for an excuse. "Did you expect him to go in without a fight?"
"I beat his fucking records the past couple of years. Beat them so no one else could get past me."
"And did he?" He already knew the answer. No one would stop talking about it. Even though Victor had won gold he had come no where near to the records Yuri had set the previous years. But it only meant Yuri had skated that poorly this time around.
"Fuck no. He won because I fucking screwed my routines! I...fucked up my jumps. I fucked up my timing...I just..." He still had a death grip on Otabek's jacket as he felt hot tears burn his eyes. He hated this. Hated feeling weak. Hated losing control. As soon as he felt strong arms go around him he lost it. He let himself sob against the chest he was hiding in. Hiding even from himself. "I hurt all the time...I hate this body. Hate that I can't find my center of gravity. Hate that I don't even want to crawl out of bed. I..." He took a deep breath and when he let it out it was shakey. "I...can't...do this..."
And those were not the words Otabek had expected to hear from Yuri. Ever. "Hey." He said gently, pressing a soft kiss to the golden hair. "My Russian Soldier...look at me." He felt the shake of the head against his chest even though he couldn't understand which swear word Yuri had chosen to mumble as a reply. Otabek moved his hands to frame the face against him and forced Yuri to look at him. "Yuri Plisetsky. What is this? Who is this talking?"
His face was red from crying, sticky from angry tears that still threatened to fall. Yuri finally let his fingers release their grip from Otabek's jacket coming to rest on his wrists as he leaned into the hands that held him. "I...failed..." He spoke between teeth clenched tight.
"How? How the fuck did you fail?" He hadn't meant to speak so harshly. He never spoke that way. Never to anyone. Especially Yuri. He watched as green eyes widened. "You skated as if your life depended on it. You defied fucking gravity like no one I have ever seen. If I could skate like you..."
"You took fucking fourth, asshole." Yuri breathed still unsure what made Otabek say what he did.
"And according to you I'm a failure."
"I never..."
"You said you failed. A failure with a GPF bronze medal around their neck." Otabek interrupted, his jaw tightening. "What does that make me?"
"I didn't..."
"Didn't mean it? Well you said it. If you meant to or not. You spoke the words." Otabek never believed in tough love, but right now Yuri's words had hit a chord in him. It didn't matter if Yuri was calling him a failure or not. The words had stung. He knew he would never be on the level of Yuri. Could never come close. The fact he had placed fourth...just right behind him, Katsuki, and Victor...Otabek had felt pretty damn good. But now...now...
Otabek felt his jaw tighten more. He had worked hard this season. Harder than he ever had because he had promised Yuri they would meet at the GPF...he would stand on the podium with him..."Who the fuck am I kidding...You're right, Yuri...you're right..."
Yuri had never heard Otabek swear much except when he was drunk. The harsh words had stung, but even worse the utter defeat in the last few words spoken. Even with that angry crease between his eyebrows he had kept his hands framing Yuri's face. Yuri moved his own hands to imitate the same position. He felt as if something had happened in their relationship and he didn't want it to change. Didn't want to lose what they had.
He leaned forward to let their foreheads touch. "Hey..."
Otabek leaned more in to his touch, their noses touching now. No words were said, just a silence that spread through the room. A silence so thick it was hard to breath. Muscles tight from tension. Neither moving. Neither speaking.
Yuri closed his eyes as minutes ticked by and they still hadn't moved from their fallen position on the floor. Faces mere centimeters apart, hands framing those faces. Their breathing had grown laboured as if remaining silent was hurting them. Yuri's fingertips lightly brushed Otabek's tense jaw. He needed to breath. "You're too good to me..." His voice sounded rough to his own ears as if he hadn't spoken in days instead of mere minutes.
"Don't..." Otabek warned, barely breathing. "Don't you dare."
"What do you want me to do? What am I supposed to do?" Yuri was tired, tired of keeping it all bottled in. He had clawed as much as he could and turned up nothing but wounded. "How am I supposed to live always in someone's damn shadow! No matter what I do...no matter how much I try...why is it never good enough?" Fresh hot angry tears began to flow again as his voice became louder and louder with each statement. "Why is my best always a fucking failure! Why can't it be okay? Why can't I even let myself make one fucking mistake!
"I...don't want to be empty any more. You never made me feel as if all that mattered was what medal hung around my neck. You made ME matter. Is that too much to ask???"
"And what would you do if you left skating?" Otabek's voice was quieter and calmer than he felt. His heart had almost stopped. He had felt it. A crushing weight on his chest. "What part of your soul would you lose by walking away? You need skating as much as the ice needs you. Some times...there are things that are just so integral to yourself, a piece of yourself, you will never be whole without it. It isn't as simple as abandoning it, hoping that will be the solution. There is no solution. No easy way out."
"I don't want to hate myself!" Yuri cried.
"Then don't. Decide to simply not hate who you are becoming." A thumb swiped across a cheekbone that had grown sharper during the growth spurt. The baby fat beginning to fade.
Yuri sobbed at the familiar touch. "Who am I becoming?"
"That is your decision alone."
"No..." There was a quiet hiccup. "I want you to be there with me..."
Otabek breathed slowly, taking in the words Yuri had just spoken. They had flitted around being almost more than a lot of times in their relationship. When was the next step? Was there ever a next step? And then he had to wonder did Yuri even know what he just said...
Yuri finally broke the distance between them, just as he had done the very first time. They were more practiced though and it wasn't a clumsy first kiss, but it was hesitant, waiting, expecting. Soft lips rested upon his until Otabek took over, capturing them with his, swallowing the sigh that was let out.
When the kiss ended there was still a silence and they did not move. Otabek's hands still framed Yuri's face and Yuri had moved his hands to go behind Otabek's neck. It was as if they were stuck in that moment. "Have you texted Alyna?" Otabek started a casual conversation almost as if the previous half hour hadn't existed.
"Shit! I forgot. Dammit." Alyna had texted him yesterday about her local competition in Kazakhstan, but he had been so focused on his routine he had failed to respond. And now felt like an ass. Even more than he already felt and Otabek's next words didn't help.
"I just wanted to check. Make sure it's not because she's...you know...a failure or anything."
"Fucking shit. That's not funny."
Otabek shrugged. "Since third is I just didn't know how you felt about last."
"I wouldn't say that shit to Alyna." Yuri's tone was one of shock. As if the idea was preposterous even though he had been uttering such things just moments before.
"Only to each other, huh?" Otabek brushed Yuri's cheek with his knuckles before he moved his hands to rest on the small waist, stopping himself from pulling him closer.
"She never thought she was going to medal. Ever. You know her." Yuri was still in shock over the insinuation. He had just forgotten to text her...and everyone else... "That she even made it that far...that's just amazing."
A smile tugged at Otabek's face. "Can you remember that for yourself? That you worked your ass off to get where you are. No one just handed you that medal."
"What are you saying?" And Yuri really didn't understand.
"Do you know Alyna was about to quit skating before she met you? She loved it, but was getting so frustrated everyone seemed to be improving but her. I don't know what you two text each other about and, sure, I am a bit jealous apparently that my boyfriend and one of my friends hit it off better than I would imagine. But did you know she told YOU first she made the team? She told YOU what her program was going to be. Then the rest of us found out. Dimash didn't even know until your post on Instagram."
"Fuck..." Yuri's voice was quiet.
"You sparked something in her. You inspire her. She doesn't care what place you take as long as she can watch you skate. To her your bronze will make her cheer just as loudly as your gold." Otabek looked at him intently. "It's a talent you have, Yura...to inspire others...She will work harder now because of you. Push her limits. Find her place on the ice because of you. Dimash said to thank you. *I* thank you."
Yuri swallowed hard and blinked several times because he definitely wasn't crying again. He dropped his face, hair hanging in the way as he bit his lip. "How is her Biellmann?"
Otabek breathed deeply. "You can be such a jerk some times. You've been coaching her, haven't you? I *knew* that technique looked familiar!"
Yuri pushed himself away from Otabek's touch, scooting across the floor until his back was against a wall. He pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs. "She...she told me she was thinking of quitting. I called her a whine baby and she called me a bitch and we didn't talk to each other for a few days. We vid chatted where she screamed at me how I was all talk and had no right to say she was simply giving up without a fight because she had tried her best and I...kinda yelled back that if she had actually done her best she would have a medal around her neck." A pink had crept to his cheeks and he didn't dare look at Otabek who's face was in shock. "She sent me a video of her skating one of her routines and it was...pathetic. I tore it apart and told her every thing that was wrong with it."
"You are unbelievable." Otabek shook his head.
"No. It wasn't just me." Yuri dared to look up finally, resting his chin on his knees. "Remember when we talked before my first EX? How you said which Yuri you wanted to see the most? I told her *she* had to decide where she wanted this to go...where she wanted to be...who she wanted to show to everyone...Not to let this one moment control her."
"Are you listening to yourself right now? Because if not I can call her up right now and she can give you this same pep talk. Probably with all your swear words included." Dimash had called him up one night wanting to know who had taught his sister such colorful adjectives. It didn't take long to figure it out. Yuri leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Only you can make your dream a reality, Yura."
"What if..." Yuri stopped and swallowed. "How about..." He stopped again. He raised his head, opening his eyes seeing Otabek sit there waiting patiently like he always did. "Fuck it."
The silence began to grow between them again. Otabek waited, but when nothing more was said he pushed himself up off the floor, idly dusting his pants off even though he was positive it was a wasted movement. Yuri's eyes were following him. "There's a lot to do the next few days. You have an exhibition to skate. We have a gala to attend." He looked around for the package he had dropped earlier when Yuri had flung himself at him. Picking it up he held it towards the blonde who had yet to move. "I brought you something."
Even though he was hesitant Yuri reached for the package, curiosity eating at him. Looking in to the bag he saw a very familiar stuffed tiger. He bit his lip. "You've had him this entire time?"
"Tigers scare everything away." Otabek was noncommittal. After Yuri had left Almaty and they had sworn everything had been packed he had returned to his apartment and saw the tiger sitting on the shelf next to his bear. He had thought about mailing it back, but the longer he thought about it the harder it had become. He knew it was wrong and probably even a bit mean since he knew Yuri used the tiger on his travels to places. Only now did he wonder what Yuri had used in replacement.
In a split second Yuri had jumped up from the floor and it was as if nothing had happened or changed, not the yelling, not even Yuri's height, and the spunky Russian was in his arms, legs wrapped around him, holding him tightly. "You are such a jerk."
For a moment the kiss they shared was desperate, as if worried something had changed, but some kind of reassurance must have gone unspoken as the kiss turned tender and Otabek swore it was the best kiss they had shared yet. Yuri hesitated to separate, continuing to gently give a small kiss at the corner of Otabek's mouth, on his jaw, hiding his face into the side of his neck even as he pressed his lips there.
"Beka? Can we...can we make our dreams a reality together?" Otabek took a sharp intake of air at Yuri's words. "I know we have a lot to accomplish, a lot we need to see through, but I know we can make it work! We can...plan visits more regularly even during the season. What's a bit more jet lag? And I can practice in Almaty once things are worked out on my routines and I'm sure Yakov would love to meddle with yours. He always makes comments when you skate. And bring Alyna up! We can help her make the podium. Baba would adore her! Wait...that might be a bad idea...But..."
Yuri suddenly stopped as he felt Otabek's chest rumble before he heard the laughter. The laugh that was for Yuri alone. The pure joy that erupted with the sound. "What's so funny?" Yuri demanded.
"People want to compare you to Victor, but I swear you probably sound like Katsuki right now." Otabek felt a punch to his arm as he chuckled. "Let's do this. You're right. We can make it work. As long as we put our minds to it it'll happen. You can leave a few things at my apartment so you don't have to pack so much and I'm sure I can find some temporary housing in whatever town you're at when I visit."
"How about you stay with me?"
"At Lilia's? And have her evil eye on us for our carnel desires? And I'm not sure I want your Grandfather to hear how loud you get..."
"Asshole..." Yuri muttered.
"And if Alyna travels with me I can't expect them to house us both..." He tightened his hold around Yuri as the other still clung to him. "We'll make our dreams reality, Yura...I know we can..."