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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

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Prompt 53. Yurio/Otabek

Yo, thanks for the request, @r0kita. I know it’s been Months, bro, but I have finally gotten around to writing something up for it. I hope you like it, even if it’s angsty.

I kind of used this short fic as a chance to explore something I want to do with a longer fic I am working on (we 20 pages deep, fam!! still going!!) where Yurio struggles with his grandfather’s Alzheimer’s getting worse. Sad, I know. But sometimes you just Gotta write something upsetting. It’s a little cathartic.

Anyways, enjoy.

OtaYuri Prompt #53: “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4:00am to go for ice cream?!”

A loud, staccato tap at the window made Otabek flinch. He pushed his headphones off, wondering if maybe he was imagining things. Curiosity stole the better half of his judgment and he went up to the window, looking out into the dark. From where he was, all he could see were a few street lamps, some pavement, and the apartment across the street.

He padded back to the couch where his laptop sat, the white-blue glow the only thing lighting up the small living room as its fan whirred from all its hours of use. His mixes weren’t going to finish themselves, and he had a new gig to DJ at next week.

Before he could get settled back into what he was doing, there was a faint scraping sound from outside.

What the hell is that, Otabek wondered, his eyebrows pressing together in confusion. The only thing he could think was a stray cat, or maybe some other animal. But what cat would make such a clear sound against the outside wall of a second-floor apartment?

As he approached the window with tight caution pulling at his back, he gasped and fell back a step.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

One after the other, a fist rapped at his window. A voice shouted from the other side, the nighttime quiet doing nothing to muffle it.

“Beka, I know this is your apartment! Open the hell up!”

Yura? Otabek thought with alarm, now extremely confused.

Otabek rushed to the window and opened it. Yuri was practically hanging off the fire escape that was just to the left of his window. The sight in and of itself made Otabek’s heart jump into his throat and cold sweat break out on his temples.

“Finally,” Yuri huffed.

Before Otabek could even think, Yuri pulled himself into the apartment window. As graceful as he was on the ice, Yuri practically fell into the room. He was a tangle of long limbs and short huffs of curses. Yuri’s long legs finally found their way into Otabek’s place. A rank, sour smell followed him into the room. The scraggly Russian finally stood up, adjusting his sweater.

“Dude, I have been texting you all evening. What the hell are you doing?” Yuri asked.

Otabek blinked and then went to the other end of the room for his phone. He’d left it charging at the kitchen counter. Sure enough, when he scrolled through his notifications, he had messages from Yuri.

“Sorry, I was busy,” Otabek said.

Tight, hollow guilt tugged at his chest.

“Whatever,” Yuri breathed halfheartedly with a dismissive wave. He crossed the room and turned on the lights. Otabek’s eyes adjusted painfully. As he blinked away the strain, he looked at Yuri. His hair was mostly in his face, but Otabek could see that Yuri’s eyes were sort of bloodshot.

“Wait a sec,” Otabek said, stepping up to Yuri. He sniffed deeply the closer he got, making out the scent.

“God, did you and Mila share a joint again? You reek,” Otabek said.

“So what? She offered. Why the hell would I say no? Anyway, like I texted you, let’s go.” Yuri took a few long strides, already going to the front door.

Otabek hurried to his window to shut it.

“Go where?” He asked as he tugged the window shut and turned back to his friend.

“To get ice cream. God, you didn’t read any of my messages, did you? C’mon, it’ll just be a quick stop.”

“You came here to get ice cream? Through my window? Yura, nowhere to get ice cream is even open,” Otabek said. He could feel agitation snaking up his back. This was ridiculous. Why couldn’t Mila go with him?

“What’re you talking about? Convenience stores are open all the time. You gonna go with me or not?”

The two young men exchanged glances for a moment, and then Otabek slunk to his room.

“Lemme get my shoes,” he mumbled.

Something in his gut told him this wasn’t just about ice cream.

Yuri sighed, almost with relief, shifting his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. The familiar light, shiny sound of keys in his pocket was missing, reminding him yet again that he left them at Mila’s place. He’d just get them later.

Otabek shut his bedroom door and motioned with a finger for Yuri to get a move on.

“Let’s go. We’ll take my bike.”

Yuri had somehow talked Otabek into buying the ice cream for him. They were both getting chocolate-dipped ice cream bars. Yuri insisted on getting two for himself, even though Otabek told him the second one would melt.

Once they left the convenience store, Yuri was already peeling one of the bars open. He took a greedy hunk out of the corner. Light from the red and blue neon signs in the convenience store windows reflected on Yuri’s hair and cast different hues of warm and cool on his face. The hum of far-off traffic reached the parking lot. St. Petersburg was too big of a city to ever sleep.

“Wanna go anywhere else tonight? We can go back to my place.” Otabek offered.

Yuri shrugged, his shoulders slumping. He looked visibly bothered, like he was closing in on himself.

Otabek leaned against his bike, unwrapping his own ice cream bar. As he took a bite, Yuri spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically forced.

“My grandpa’s doctor says she thinks he’s showing signs of dementia.” Although mumbled, it carried just fine in the humid fog of the early, still-dark morning.

Otabek didn’t have any idea what to say. Sure, Yuri’s grandpa was getting old – the guy was in his seventies. But that didn’t change the fact that Yuri’s favorite person was starting to fade.

“I shoulda noticed before,” Yuri went on, eyes fixed to the ground. “He’s been calling me by my dad’s name sometimes – sure, I look like that fucker, but Grandpa doesn’t even correct himself much anymore. And he thought Potya was new when he was over last. A cat I’ve had since I was eight and he thought he was new.” Yuri let out a short, broken laugh.

Otabek stood up, approaching Yuri. He fixed himself right next to him, unsure as to whether he should grab Yuri’s hand.

“And my mom wants me to call my dad and tell him this shit. I’m surprised she even knows his goddamn phone number. Last time I saw that fucker, I was five. I ain’t sayin’ shit to him. That asshole’s been gone for fourteen years – he doesn’t deserve to know this.”

“Why’s she making you call him?” Otabek asked.

Yuri shrugged again, this time almost following his shoulders down. His gaze looked exhausted.

“She just doesn’t wanna talk to him, so she’s shoving that onto me. I guess if I don’t do it, she’ll call him eventually.” Yuri took another large bite out of the ice cream bar.

“We should go to my place. You can sleep over. And we should wash your clothes, you still stink,” Otabek said.

If Yuri didn’t know him better, he’d think Otabek was being insensitive. But things like this were how Otabek showed concern. He always wanted to act, even if he couldn’t fix anything.

“Sure, yeah. I don’t have my keys anyway. We can do that.” Yuri turned to Otabek, his shoes scuffing against the pavement.

He was so close that Otabek had to look up at him. Yuri didn’t seem to be looking at him – or anything. He just stared out to the street. Otabek’s stomach sank at the way Yuri’s lips pressed in a thin line.

“Beka.” Yuri still didn’t look at him. “What if he forgets me? I mean, I know it’ll happen – that he’ll forget everything, but—” Yuri let out an uneven breath, his jaw clenched. He swallowed in a useless attempt to push his rising emotions down.

Otabek’s gaze fell to the ground, knowing there was no good answer. Like Yuri said, people with dementia forget everything at some point. Anything Otabek said about that would be empty.

As Otabek glanced up, he noticed the sky was turning to a shade of gray. The sun would be coming up within the next hour or so. Otabek patted Yuri’s arm, as if to push him in the direction of his bike.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he said.

Yuri nodded weakly and bit off what all was left of the bar. The cold filling his mouth felt painful against his teeth. He let the popsicle stick drop to the parking lot as he followed Otabek to the bike. Once Otabek was on, Yuri got on behind him and wrapped his arms around Otabek. His grip was unusually tight, and he bowed his head so that it rested against Otabek’s shoulder.

Otabek didn’t say anything as he drove off. Yuri wasn’t usually this vulnerable with him, even though they had been friends for years now.

When they got back to Otabek’s apartment, Yuri had changed out of his musky clothes and into some stuff Otabek let him borrow. None of it fit properly – the joggers stopped halfway down his shins and his shoulders stretched out the snug T-shirt. Now, Yuri was curled up in Otabek’s bed, hogging the bedsheets. Otabek let him. He lay on his side, awkwardly draping an arm over Yuri, grabbing his hand.

“You can sleep in as long as you want. I won’t be busy tomorrow,” Otabek said.

A low grunt of affirmation hummed in Yuri’s chest and Otabek could feel it through his back.

In just a few minutes, Yuri was asleep. His even breathing was the only sound to accompany the hum of the AC in Otabek’s room. Even though he had shut his blinds, Otabek could make out the pale gray dawn coming from behind the slits. He scooted closer, pressing himself into Yuri’s back. Even with the beginning of an immense loss, he didn’t realistically see Yuri dropping out of competitions over it or taking a break. Yuri was stubborn, and he’d push himself through anything, even the painstakingly slow loss of his favorite person.

Otabek planted a kiss to the back of Yuri’s neck, shutting his eyes. He lay there clinging to Yuri, the AC’s white noise dragging him into sleep. The sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be able to do anything about this was the last thing he remembered feeling before dozing off.

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuri!!! on ice #y!!!oi #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #yurio plisetsky #yurio #otayuri #yurabek #yoi fanfic #yoi fanfiction #yuri on ice fanfic #yuri on ice fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #angst fanfic #fanfic prompt

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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

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Here’s the prompt list I used in the past. Feel free to send some! Or even send your own request, yo. Don’t gotta be from the list. If you want something, lemme know. If you want a NSFW thing, I’m open to that, too. I don’t write NSFW often at all, so it’ll be an interesting challenge.

It will def take time for me to finish these requests and post them, as I am a Busy college guy, but I’d love to start writing ficlets again! Thanks so much, @lovely-beka for the promo and for reblogging my short fics! You doin’ me a solid, yo!

⭐️ go follow @jii-chanwrites and flood their inbox with requests because i’m selfish and i want to read all their fics :)

thank you kindly 💓💕💗💞

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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

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Prompt 71. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

For @arthacked. He sent me this request months ago. Here it is. Hope you like it. I know it’s short, but I actually wanted to try something short, like a flash-fiction thing. Hope you don’t mind that!

IwaOi Prompt # 71: “Kiss me – quick!” From this prompt list.

The ear-popping slam of the volleyball hitting the floor was followed by a shrill whistle. Seijoh’s ace scored another point. The match was close, and in its latter half, now with Karasuno just two points behind. Seijoh had to snatch the game’s momentum from the other team and give them no chance of recovery. That was the captain’s job. This was when Oikawa relied on Iwaizumi the most. The ace always pulled through when things were getting tough.

“Nice kill, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chimed, smiling at Iwaizumi. He’d said it dozens of times before, but meant it every time. The satisfaction he got from serving to Iwaizumi had never diminished. He could serve to him with his eyes shut.

The gruff wing spiker made a face at him.

“Of course.” He replied, setting his sweaty hands on hips.

The teams got set up again, players taking their places in the new rotation. Oikawa would be up to serve.

“Quick, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, stepping up to the ace. “Kiss me good luck.”

“No. Go serve, Shittykawa. We’re in the middle of a game.” Iwaizumi said, shoving at Oikawa’s shoulder.

“But their libero’s gonna dig my serve if you don’t,” Oikawa whined, feigning disappointment. He looked down at Iwaizumi with an exaggerated pout.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. His hand shot out and grasped Oikawa’s shirt collar, tugging him in. He gave Oikawa a quick peck and then shoved him away, leaving the shirt front a crumpled mess.

“Nice serve, Shittykawa,” he muttered, turning away.

Oikawa had barely heard him over the squeaks of shoes against the gym floor and the hum of the crowd in the bleachers. A smile broke out on his face. Once he stepped behind the serve line, that grin quickly changed to smug confidence. He eyed Karasuno, meeting eyes with their captain behind the net. A heated exchange without words, over in an instant.

If you’re going to hit something, Oikawa thought, hit it until it breaks.

Bringing the ball up to his forehead after a quick twirl of it in his hands, he took in a deep breath, eyes shut. The whistle sounded for the serve. Oikawa opened his eyes again and tossed the ball up, taking a few solid steps out until he jumped. The ball connected with his swinging hand perfectly, and it went exactly where he wanted it to go. Nothing wild, but fast enough that if he blinked, he’d miss it. Controlled power – that was Oikawa’s serve. And he was going to break Karasuno’s captain.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x iwaizumi #iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #iwaoi fanfic #iwaoi fanfiction

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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

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Prompt 99. Yurio/Otabek

Prompt 99. Yurio/Otabek – “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

Thanks for sending me a prompt, @genichirolto! I hope you like this! Feel free to tell me what you think.

More prompts here. Feel free to send me one! I’ve had writer’s block like mad. Maybe these will help me out. Expect more soon!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Yuri hissed, clutching his phone in a white-knuckled grip. No signal. No apps loading. Nothing. They were lost.

“God dammit!” Yuri slammed his foot into the wall, digging his heel into the brittle, aging wood of the cabin wall.

“Yura, just calm down—”

“Calm down?!” Yuri turned on Otabek, jabbing a finger into a face he could barely make out. “We’re fucking lost!”

“I know that!” Otabek shouted back, swatting at his friend’s wrist. He clutched the flashlight tight enough that he thought the plastic might crack. “Venturing off was your idea.”

“Oh, so this is my fault, huh?!” Yuri stepped in closer, thinking it would make Otabek back down.

“Kind of, so don’t freaking yell at me,” Otabek said.

“Well, you got a better idea? Besides sitting in this damn shed?” Yuri asked, throwing his arms out and letting them drop back down.

“No. This is the best bet we have.” Otabek crossed his arms.

“We’re sitting here doing nothing—”

“We’re waiting.” Otabek said it like it was obvious.

“How do you know anyone will find us in here?!” Yuri was almost surprised at how much he raised his voice, and he worried Otabek might have been bothered, but he couldn’t really tell in the dark room.

Otabek didn’t say anything. The two of them stayed there for a short moment, glaring at each other, before Yuri let out a quick huff and turned away. He slumped down to the floor, pulling his hood over his head. At least they’d found someplace to get away from the cold wind. Yuuri, Viktor, and the others were back at the campsite probably wondering where the hell they were. If they didn’t find their way back, their friends would start searching for them. The idea made both of them uneasy. This was supposed to be a fun trip, and here they were, screwing it up for the rest of them just because Yuri was slightly tipsy and both of them were curious. An unfailing recipe for bad decisions. Bad decisions that led them to take shelter from the cold in an old, abandoned cabin that smelled like cheap cologne.

“Whose idea was it to even go camping anyway?” Yuri asked, leaning his head back and gnashing his teeth.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just stay here for now. At least it’s not that cold, and it should be safe.” Otabek sat across from him, attempting to balance the flashlight on its end, hoping to illuminate more of the small cabin they were in. The wood floors were too uneven, so it wouldn’t stay. He let it drop down onto its side with a dull clack.

“Sure, super safe. A bear could just rip this rotting door down and maul us.” Yuri jabbed his thumb to the wood door. It had some gaps and chips in it, which made the wind whistle occasionally. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was freaking him out.

“Or maybe, for all we know, this place could be fucking haunted,” Yuri spat, pressing his hands to his face as he sighed.

“It’s better than just being lost outside,” Otabek said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees.

Yuri peered through his fingers at what little he could make out of Otabek. He could see some of the right side of his friend’s face and a vague outline of his body all bulky from his thick coat. He couldn’t even remember what color it was. Blue? Green? Gray? Whatever it was was better than Yuri’s hoodie. He didn’t think it would get that cold, so he never bothered to bring anything heavier. He was regretting it by now, and even though he knew outside would be worse, he still felt like sitting here and doing nothing was a waste.

Yuri got up, pacing to try and keep himself warm and keep his mind from wandering. The wood floor clunked under his shoes with the five steps it took him to cross the room, only to turn and continue the pattern. He started to wonder how many animals might have snuck in here for warmth. He figured not many, since he couldn’t hear anything but his own footsteps. They probably were alone.

It wasn’t the feeling of being alone that made him uneasy, though. He just wanted to know his way back so he didn’t get stuck out here. But alone is what he’d wanted. That’s why he’d wandered off with Otabek – to be someplace alone with him. Yuri wouldn’t have agreed to even go camping if Otabek wasn’t coming along. But he was, and that changed things. This could give him his chance to finally talk to Otabek without someone breathing down his neck, like Viktor or Mila or even his grandpa. Why was everyone so nosy? Sure, he was interested in Otabek, but he didn’t want other people interested in him being interested.

“Cold?” Otabek asked.

Yuri gave a low grunt in reply.

“Bet I could do more pushups than you,” Otabek said. A challenge seemed like a more fun way to keep warm and pass the time.

“No way am I puttin’ my hands on this shitty floor. It’s probably full of splinters,” Yuri said.

“Fair enough.” Otabek shrugged and lay back, folding his hands behind his head. The ceiling was a black expanse and he was sure if he looked at it too long, it would suck him in. He wondered if anything could be up there, hiding away in here with them. Whatever it might be sure was quiet.

Yuri’s steps came closer to him, and soon his form loomed over Otabek.

“How long do you think we’ll end up waiting?” He asked.

“Dunno. An hour? We didn’t get that far,” Otabek said. He was trying to convince himself of this, too, but it was barely working.

The floor creaked as Yuri knelt down. He leaned forward, his narrow hips fitting just between Otabek’s thighs as he let himself drape over his friend, hands planted on either side of Otabek’s torso. Otabek could feel his face, neck, and ears getting warm. Was Yuri still feeling tipsy?

“Uh, Yura, is everything okay?” Otabek moved his hands from behind his head, half tempted to push Yuri off of him. He hadn’t really noticed until now, but Yuri was getting taller, and his build was much broader now. The young Russian took up more space than he used to.

“I already said – I’m cold,” Yuri said, as if this made perfect sense.

“Oh. Sorry.” Otabek slowly rested his hands on Yuri’s back. Strings of blond hair tickled Otabek’s neck.

Yuri could feel his hands starting to shake. This is stupid, he thought. What the hell am I doing? He could feel his own breath pooling against Otabek’s neck in warm puffs. He still smelled like booze, but he wasn’t feeling buzzed anymore. Maybe it was the oddness of the entire situation, but being close to Otabek felt more than comforting; it was tempting – magnetic. Besides, they were all alone now. He didn’t exactly screw that up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Otabek asked. Yuri could feel the rumble of Otabek’s voice in his chest. For no longer being buzzed, his mind sure felt fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Yuri croaked. He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up against Otabek’s clavicle.

The pads of his fingers dug into the wood floor as Yuri pushed himself up, just enough to hover above Otabek’s face. It was nearly impossible to make out Otabek’s expression in his own shadow that blocked the yellow light from reaching their faces. Propping his elbows above Otabek’s shoulders, Yuri pushed his hands down into Otabek’s hair as he leaned forward and kissed him. The warm rush of excitement as his heart rattled against his ribcage definitely helped in the cold, and the low moan that made its way up Otabek’s throat sent Yuri’s brain into a whirl. To Yuri’s relief, Otabek reluctantly kissed back, and he could feel Otabek’s hands grip his shoulders.

Yuri pulled away for a breath, his hands still shaky and his pulse throbbing in his ears. He didn’t dare look down at Otabek, even if he couldn’t see him too well.

“Didn’t think my first kiss would be with a drunk guy on a dingy cabin floor,” Otabek said.

Yuri sat back onto his haunches, his hands pressed against Otabek’s knees as he stared down at him.

“What?! There’s no way this was your first kiss!” Yuri scrambled to point an accusing finger at Otabek, even if he wouldn’t really see it. “And I’m not drunk!”

Otabek laughed. “Okay, so you’re not drunk. Still. This is…really unexpected.”

“’First kiss’ my ass!” Yuri could feel his face heating up, and the warmth was spreading down his neck and to his chest.

“Yura,” Otabek laughed, reaching up to put his hands on Yuri. He settled for resting them against Yuri’s chest. “Stop screaming, you’ll wake up the whole forest.”

Yuri let out a disgruntled huff. His eyes trailed along the dark walls of the cabin until they found their way back to his friend. Friend? Could that still work? What even were they now? Shrugging off that thought, Yuri let himself lean into Otabek’s hands, gripping his wrists as he got closer again.

“You serious? This was your first kiss? Shit, Beka, I wouldn’t’ve guessed.” Yuri made an effort not to laugh. Otabek seemed like the kind of guy who’d been in a few relationships – at least casual ones. This had to be a joke.

“I guess it wasn’t a terrible first kiss. I dunno what I expected. But definitely not this,” he said.

Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri, keeping him pinned down.

“Still cold?” He asked. Yuri might still be cold, but Otabek was completely okay with the warmth radiating from him. He wasn’t about to ask this human blanket to move.

“Maybe,” Yuri said, pushing his hands back into Otabek’s hair. “We’ll last longer if we stay like this anyway. It’s really starting to get to me in here.”

The grip on Yuri’s shoulders tightened as Otabek leaned in for another kiss. The intoxicating feeling of those warm lips pressed to his own made it much easier to keep from worrying about when they’d be found.

Cutting through the sound of the wind were a series of quick huffs and sniffs. Yuri pushed himself up, looking to the door. A mixture of fear and anger rose in his chest. An animal had found them.

He put a hand over Otabek’s mouth, trying to get across the idea that he shouldn’t make any noise. Otabek gave a short nod and Yuri was up. He grabbed the flashlight, holding it like a club as he faced the door. His shoe scuffed against the floor as he got into a more stable stance. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fight off an animal like the few fights he’d been in with people, but it was a better chance than nothing.

Some more muffled sound came from the doorway, and then the door burst open. Yuri could feel his heart jump into his throat as he quickly stepped forward, only to be met with laughter and then the impact of paws meeting his stomach and almost knocking him down. The dog in front of him panted, not sounding the least bit threatening.

“Funny finding you here,” Viktor’s voice said from the doorway.

Yuri shined the flashlight his way, hoping to blind him. Behind the silhouette of Viktor was another figure. Probably Yuuri.

Otabek was up and at Yuri’s side. The two of them stepped out of the cabin with Makkachin tailing behind them.

“How was your little adventure?” Viktor sang, a smug smirk on his face.

Yuri’s face flushed with embarrassment as anger rose in his chest. As if you two have any room to talk, he thought, noticing the two men were already holding hands. Gross saps.

“Shut up, we just got lost,” he said, turning the flashlight off and shoving it into his hoodie pocket. He definitely wasn’t about to explain any of this to Viktor.

“Nosy fucking bastard,” he muttered.

A low chuckle came from Otabek as he looped an arm through Yuri’s. Yuri wouldn’t have much more time to avoid questions any longer. At least Mila would give him enough booze to forget his embarrassment.

#yuri on ice #otayuri #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #yurabek #otabek x yurio #yurio plisetsky #yoi #y!!!oi #yuri!!! on ice #yuri on ice fanfic #yoi fanfic #otayuri fanfic

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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

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Prompt 147: “I Can Take Care of Myself Just Fine”

Another fic prompt request from @sofia-altin! This one was pretty fun. Fluff for sure. Enjoy, y’all.

Cold air whipped at Yuri’s face as he wrapped his arms tighter around Otabek’s waist. He could hear the growl of the bike as they passed through the St. Petersburg streets. The solid shifts of Otabek’s back whenever he moved made Yuri’s face feel warm, even with the cold air. He was glad Otabek wouldn’t be able to look at him. They turned a corner on the bike and Yuri dipped his head down, closer to Otabek’s ear.

“Take a left up there and then just park someplace. I’ll be fine, just drop me off,” he said.

Otabek shrugged and kept the bike going.

When they got in front of the apartment building, Otabek got off his bike after Yuri, grabbing Yuri’s arm.

“You shouldn’t walk unaided. You really did a number back there on your ankle.” Otabek’s grip tightened and Yuri gave him a half-hearted glare.

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself, y’know? The building has a damn elevator.” Yuri’s lips pressed into a thin, agitated line. “Besides, you’re too short to be of much help.”

Otabek rolled his eyes.

“Sure, but I could carry you. You may be tall, but you’re light as a feather. I do squats heavier than you at the gym.” He turned around with his back to Yuri, holding his arms out with his palms turned back, wiggling his fingers as if to coax Yuri into accepting the piggy-back ride.

With a resigned sigh, Yuri put his arms around Otabek’s shoulders. He hopped up and awkwardly tried to get his legs around Otabek’s waist. Otabek hooked his hands under Yuri’s thighs. Yuri could feel his ankle throbbing and his whole left leg was tense.

“Second floor,” Yuri mumbled, and Otabek walked them to the elevator with careful steps.

When the elevator doors opened, Otabek quickly jabbed the button for the second floor. Yuri could feel Otabek’s back tensing. A smug smile crept onto his face as he pushed himself up at his thighs, digging them into Otabek’s hips. Teasing him was one way to ignore the ache.

“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” He asked. He nipped at Otabek’s ear, letting out a huff of a laugh as his mouth stretched into a grin.

“Do that again and I’ll drop you,” Otabek said flatly, stepping out of the elevator. “It’s apartment two twenty-four, right?” He took a few steps to turn right, going down the exposed hall.

“Yeah. Lemme get my keys.” Yuri freed one of his arms from around Otabek’s neck and dug into his hoodie pocket, finding the keys. With a finger through the key ring, he dangled them in front of Otabek’s face. “Here.”

Once in front of Yuri’s apartment door, Otabek snagged the keys from him and unlocked the door, opening it and quickly heading inside.

“Okay, just set me on the couch or something,” Yuri said.

Otabek complied, eager to get rid of the extra weight. He practically dumped Yuri on the couch, the young Russian hitting the cushions with a loud slump and a short, throaty yip of surprise.

“Jesus, Beka, be gentler with me,” Yuri spat as he adjusted himself on the couch, stretching his legs out over the opposite armrest as he leaned back against the plush arm of the couch. The couch was his grandfather’s, and when Yuri finally got his own place, Nikolai decided he’d give his grandson the brown couch. It was older – well-loved. Perfect for napping, among other things Yuri had found it to be of use for. Really, it was just his grandfather’s excuse to get a new couch.

“Yura, you’re fine,” Otabek said dismissively as he roamed the kitchen, pulling his jacket off and draping it over a chair. “Do you have anything like an ice bag or something? Y’know, those rubber ones you just dump ice into?”

“I think those are in my bathroom. Maybe under the sink? I dunno, haven’t used one in a while.”

“I’ll go look.” Otabek wandered into Yuri’s room and into the bathroom. Yuri could hear the fan turn on as Otabek turned the lights on in the bathroom. Potya shot out of the room, running past Yuri and over to the small laundry room connected to the kitchen.

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Glad to see you, too, Potya,” he mumbled as he tugged his hoodie off and let it drop onto the carpet. Leaning forward, he untied his shoes. A pained hiss slipped between his teeth while he undid the laces. Quickly pulling his shoes off, he let them fall to the floor, leaning back against the arm of the couch when Otabek returned, having unearthed one of the blue rubber ice bags.

“I’m surprised I found anything. You don’t seem like the type who even believes in rest days,” he said as he walked to the freezer.

The door opened with a dense crack and Otabek visibly shivered at the brief burst of cold air from the freezer. He took out the ice tray.

“You’re right, they’re the worst. Who the hell likes sitting around doing nothing?” Yuri said as he picked at his nails. He was tempted to sink further down into the couch to rest his head on the armrest, but he figured having his legs dangle off the couch wouldn’t be comfortable.

“You should learn to have some down-time,” Otabek said, walking over and setting the ice bag over Yuri’s ankle. “Want any pain pills?”

Yuri shrugged. “Not really. You can go now. Just hand me my TV remote or something.” He gestured to the coffee table.

“I don’t have anything else going on. Besides, who’s gonna make you food?” Otabek plopped himself on the floor in front of the couch, grabbing the TV remote and turning the TV on. He flipped through some channels, stopping on something that wasn’t a commercial.

“I can have something delivered,” Yuri said.

“And who’s gonna answer the door?” Otabek looked over his shoulder up at Yuri.

“I can hop over.”

“Sure you can. But what if you fall while you’re carrying the food back?” Otabek had to keep himself from smiling. He was having fun messing with Yuri.

“I won’t,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t fall.”

“You fell at the rink today. We all saw it happen,” he teased, no longer able to keep his mouth from curving into a grin.

Yuri crossed his arms and frowned, painfully aware that he was blushing.

“It’s not my fault I’m forgetting how long my legs are,” Yuri huffed, swatting at Otabek’s head.

Otabek leaned back, resting his head against Yuri’s arm and holding the remote up to him. Yuri let out a short grunt as he pushed the remote down with a finger, rejecting the offer. He turned and moved his arm from under Otabek’s head, his hand quickly scooping Otabek’s chin up to angle his head back. Yuri leaned in and gave Otabek a quick peck on the lips. They both looked at each other for a few seconds before Otabek brought his hands up to Yuri’s hair, a hand snaking around to the back of his neck and pulling him back down for a longer kiss.

“This angle’s uncomfortable. Come up here,” Yuri said.

“I’m not making out with you while your ankle’s all swollen.” Otabek pushed at Yuri’s cheek, leaning forward as he looked at the TV.

If Yuri hadn’t learned to read Otabek’s body language, he’d be offended. But Otabek seemed cautious – almost shy, like he didn’t want to be a nuisance.

“Well, if you’re not gonna distract me, why don’t you go find me some Advil or something?” Yuri said, already looking ready to mope.

Otabek turned back to glance at him.

“Is that what you really—”

“No, of course it isn’t what I actually want, Beka,” Yuri said. “Get on the couch with me.”

Pink spread across Otabek’s cheeks, and Yuri felt his heart skip a beat.

“I-I’ll get you something for the pain,” Otabek said, getting up.

“Otya,” Yuri whined. He drew out the vowels, trying to sound pitiful, grabbing Otabek’s arm.

“Don’t call me that,” Otabek muttered, hiding his flustered face as he pushed his hair back, tugging his arm away. He walked back to Yuri’s bathroom to find pain relievers. Yuri sunk back against the couch.

When Otabek came back, he tossed the pill bottle at Yuri, who made a lazy effort at catching it.

“Are you sure you feel up to me being on the couch with you?” Otabek asked as he filled a cup with water for Yuri at the kitchen sink. He came over with it, holding it out to Yuri, who was already dropping two pills into his mouth.

“Sure,” he said around the pills as he took the cup. He gulped them down with a large swig.

Otabek sighed, taking his shoes off. He picked up Yuri’s hoodie and pulled it on, pushing the sleeves up. It was a tad oversized on him.

“How the hell am I gonna get on the couch, you’re over all of it.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and grabbed Otabek around his waist, tugging him over onto the couch. Otabek practically fell onto Yuri.

“This is stupid,” he mumbled.

“Quit moving around. My god, you’re worse than Potya,” Yuri said. “Just straddle me, for fuck’s sake, Beka. That’s what you usually do. Me having a bad ankle doesn’t change that.”

Otabek rolled his eyes and shifted so he was straddling Yuri.

“That’s better,” Yuri said, pulling Otabek down for a kiss.

“Sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” Otabek asked between kisses, his hands keeping him propped up on either side of Yuri.

Yuri bit Otabek’s lip and then pulled away.

“I dunno, my bad ankle might get in the way of that,” he teased, his hand slipping into the back pocket of Otabek’s joggers, cupping his ass.

“Yurka, that was a serious question,” Otabek grabbed Yuri’s wrist, moving his hand back to his lower back.

“Oh. Uh, sure. Yeah. If Potya doesn’t let you sleep in my bed with me, you can have the couch.” Yuri pulled Otabek down against his chest, kissing his neck.

“Maybe rest days wouldn’t be so bad if you came over,” Yuri said.

Otabek kissed along Yuri’s jawline.

“Don’t push your luck, Yura,” Otabek said, relaxing against Yuri. Yuri got his arms around Otabek and let out a contented sigh against the Kazakh’s dark hair.

“Too much to ask, I guess.”

#Yuri on ice #otayuri #otayuri fanfic #yoi #Yuri Plisetsky #Otabek Altin #yuri on ice fanfic #Yuri!!! on Ice #y!!!oi #yoi fanfic

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jii-chanwrites · 7 years

Text

Prompt 112: "Why are you bleeding?"

I was asked on my main blog to do some prompts by @sofia-altin (thanks, yo! Hope you like it!), and I had actually made this writing blog weeks ago. I just haven’t had anything finished enough that I’d want to post – until now. And damn, does Tumblr ruin my formatting. Ngl, I don’t even wanna mess with it, it’s 3:00AM lol I’ll be posting other short fics in the future! Stay tuned, y’all.

Summary: Otabek’s trying to finish up his new mix for his next DJ venue when Yuri comes to his hotel after a scuffle that’s left him a little roughed up and mostly just wanting to be alone with his favorite person.

Clicking a few things on his laptop, Otabek put his headphones on and leaned back against a stack of pillows. His new mix had to be finished by tomorrow. He had a gig set up for him late at night he was going to DJ at. It’d been a while since he’d done any shows, and he was a little nervous. But at least he was comfy.

Hotel beds always somehow felt better than Otabek’s bed at home. Something about how plush everything was – the way his head sunk into the airy pillows, the way the sheets felt light and cozy, the way he could feel himself fully relax into the mattress. Yeah, that was much better than his bed at home. Not to mention, the hotel was quieter. But sometimes he did miss the bustle of his family. Traveling around for the season had its ups and downs, and missing his sister was always what got him the most.

Otabek shut his eyes, turning the volume up with the little button on the side of his headphones. He had to make sure this was perfect. People were gonna be dancing to this at the club.

Buzz.

Flinching, he opened his eyes. A text? Now? It could wait.

Buzz.

He sat up, pausing the track and then digging into his pocket for his phone. He wouldn’t be able to focus with it vibrating against his thigh. Scattered among some Snapchat and Instagram notifications were texts from Yuri. It was the night before a competition. There was no way he was nervous. Yuri Plisetsky doesn’t get nervous. The guy’s even said so himself. But maybe, for once, he was nervous.

Hey, can I come to your room?

I’ll even bring food.

Beka???

Answer the door, lazy ass.

Blinking, Otabek looked to the hotel door. He took off his headphones and then scooted off his spot at the center of the bed and waited, almost expecting another knock – that is, if Yuri had even knocked before. Wouldn’t be unlike Yuri to just text that he was there. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Otabek went to the door and opened it. Yuri stormed right in.

“Dude, look at your damn phone.” He walked right to the hotel room’s desk, setting down a large paper bag with an intricate red logo on it. He plopped into the chair before Otabek even had the door locked.

“Sorry, I was busy,” Otabek said. “I need to finish my mix by tomorrow night, so time isn’t exactly on my side.”

“Oh. Right,” Yuri looked away, shoulders sagging. “Shit. Uh, I should probably leave.”

Just as he was getting up, Otabek had made his way over to Yuri, setting gentle hands on his arms.

“Wait a sec, are you bleeding?” Otabek asked, trying to get a better look at Yuri’s face. For once, Yuri’s newfound height wasn’t exactly on his side. Not like he was trying to hide it, though. Part of him just didn’t want Otabek to ask.

“It’s not a big deal.” Yuri waved his hand dismissively and then went to grab the bag.

“What happened?” Otabek pressed.

“Nothing, okay? It’s fine, I’ll go. You’re busy anyway.”

“Yuri, it’s not fine. Sit back down.” Otabek pressed at Yuri’s chest, almost having to shove his friend back into the chair.

Yuri let himself collapse into the swivel chair, sighing. His gaze finally fell directly on Otabek.

“Let’s just say I had a little altercation.” Yuri’s shoulders shook with a small laugh. His eyes trailed away from Otabek when he realized his friend wasn’t finding it funny.

“Jeez,” Otabek breathed. “And the night before the competition, too.”

He leaned in, looking over Yuri’s face. Otabek couldn’t tell if Yuri’s nose was still bleeding, but he had a cut on his cheek, too. It seemed Yuri had tried to use his shirt to do something about the blood from the nosebleed, because his shirt collar was red and there was some blood on his chin and smudged against his collar bone and neck. He was only relieved his friend didn’t have a black eye. That would be tougher to hide.

“What happened?” Otabek asked.

Yuri looked down, shoving his hands into the pockets of his joggers.

“Some fuckers were harassing this girl and I confronted them,” Yuri said. “I guess I at least gave her enough time to get away from them.”

Otabek looked down at Yuri, sighing. He sat down at the foot of the bed, across from the swivel chair.

“I actually thought you might’ve caused some trouble. That seems more likely, honestly,” Otabek joked, smiling.

Yuri shot him a scowl.

“I’m not always being a jerk,” he said through his teeth.

Otabek leaned forward, getting a better look at Yuri’s face again.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Not really. I guess if I put too much pressure on it, it would.”

“Must look worse than it is,” Otabek said, getting up from the bed. “What’d you get us?” He asked as he flicked the bathroom light on. Pulling tissues out of the dispenser by the sink, he crumpled a few in his hand and turned on the faucet.

“Chinese takeout. Hope you like spicy Szechuan chicken. You don’t have a consistent order for Chinese, so sorry if you hate it. Guess that means more for me. At least I won’t get fat like Katsudon.” Otabek could hear Yuri’s throaty laugh from the bathroom. When he came back, Yuri was slouched in the chair, already peeling the bag open.

“Don’t eat yet, I’m gonna wipe your face,” Otabek said, standing over him.

“I can do that myself,” Yuri said, reaching out for the damp clump of tissues.

Otabek grabbed Yuri’s wrist, looking at his knuckles.

“Looks like you actually got some hits in. Do your hands feel okay?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

Nodding, Otabek let go of Yuri’s hand and cupped his chin instead, stubble digging into the pads of his fingers. He rubbed at Yuri’s nose and upper lip, feeling warmth rush to his own face. Something about looking roughed up made Yuri look more like himself. Otabek didn’t always like Yuri’s aggression, but it was definitely part of the guy. And even though this was a strange opportunity, Otabek was letting himself enjoy it. Usually, if he was this close to Yuri’s face, it didn’t last too long. If not for the blood, he might have leaned in and stolen a kiss or two. But it seemed more like he was smudging the blood on Yuri’s face than actually cleaning it off. He’d probably need to get more tissues to actually help. For a quick second, Yuri shut his eyes, scrunching up his face and letting out a grunt.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” Otabek asked, dabbing at Yuri’s face a few more times.

“Just quit it, I’m fine.” Yuri pushed Otabek’s hand away, turning to the desk.

“Okay. You should shave before the competition tomorrow, though,” Otabek said. He tossed the bloodied tissues into the waste basket and returned to the bathroom to wash his hands.

“You’re not my mom, shut up,” Yuri spat. Otabek felt a smile tug at his lips. This was as close to verbal affection as Yuri ever got.

The bed creaked under Otabek’s weight as he sat back across from Yuri, this time facing Yuri’s back. He prodded the back of the chair with his foot.

“Hey, feed me, Tiger,” Otabek teased. His face sported a silly grin.

Yuri turned in the swivel chair, his face and neck red like when he’d get drunk.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled as he passed Otabek one of the white boxes packed to the brim with food.

They both sat quietly, hardly looking at each other. The only sounds were the white noise of the hotel’s AC unit and the munching of saucy chicken. Otabek was a little wary about eating something with such dark sauce over plain white sheets.

“The girl I helped earlier,” Yuri started, “she kinda reminded me of your little sister. Same wavy hair, y’know? I think I got a little carried away cuz of that.”

Yuri glanced up at Otabek, almost put off by his look of concern.

“What do you mean ‘carried away’? Am I gonna have to keep you hidden away from the police or something?” Otabek asked.

“You think guys preying on some teenage girl are gonna go to the cops for getting beat?”

“What’d you do to them?” Otabek shot the question out before Yuri really had time to think of something snide. He instead stabbed at his chicken with his fork.

“I broke a guy’s fingers, okay? Whatever.”

He shoved a hunk of chicken into his mouth before Otabek could ask anything else. But Otabek looked even more concerned.

“Seriously? Holy shit, Yura—”

“It wasn’t completely on purpose! The fight got messy and I grabbed his hand funny,” Yuri pushed the chair around with his heel to face the curtained windows, setting the takeout box down on the desk. “Is it bad that getting into a fistfight felt satisfying? Yakov and Lilia have been putting so much damn pressure on me lately, and I had no way to blow off steam this past month, it almost felt like the timing couldn’t have been better.”

Otabek thought for a second, then shrugged.

“No, I wouldn’t say it’s bad. And actually, I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could fight.”

“Shut up,” Yuri said. “Just work on your mix or whatever.” Yuri leaned back in the chair and toed his shoes off.

“You spending the night in my room?” Otabek asked.

“I’m at least gonna make myself comfortable for now. Shit, man, I got blood on this shirt and everything.” Yuri pushed himself out of the chair, walking to the bathroom. “Those ladies at the Chinese restaurant probably thought I was some thug. I’m surprised they didn’t kick me out.”

Otabek watched as Yuri leaned towards the mirror, inspecting his face. It would probably bruise by tomorrow. Lilia would give him an earful for that.

“I bet they get weirder people.” Otabek moved to set his box of chicken on the desk. He stole another gaze at Yuri, smiling.

“C’mere. Worry about that later,” he said, sitting back on the bed. He put his headphones back on and restarted his mix, getting comfy against the pillows like before.

Otabek felt the weight of the bed shift as Yuri got in next to him, sprawling out so his long legs hung off the end of the bed, cheek pressed to Otabek’s stomach.

“Hey, don’t get blood on my shirt now,” he said, running a hand through Yuri’s hair.

He couldn’t hear Yuri’s reply over his music, but the way he felt Yuri’s mouth move, it was probably another “shut up.”

#yuri!!! on ice #otayuri #yuri on ice #yuri x otabek #yoi fanfic #yoi #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #otabek x yurio #yuri on ice fanfic #otayuri fanfic #fluff #tw: blood #cw: blood #yurio #yurio plisetsky #yuri plisetzki

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