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writetomyheart2016-12-23 10:08 pm
beltenebra.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2016-12-23 10:08 pm
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[TEAM SEVEN] COUNTDOWN
This is the beginning of what will very likely be a longer fic. I am planning to finish it soon and post the whole thing on AO3 but the first part is done!
The competition schedule is loosely based on the 2016-2017 calendar but this takes place two years after Yuri on Ice.
He thinks that Otabek is doing a pretty bad job of trying to hide a yawn. The fake cough he goes for doesn’t cover the fact that his eyelids have been drooping for the last ten minutes. Even through the step removed that is Skype he can tell Otabek is falling asleep. They manage pretty well most of the time but in the evenings, Otabek tends to get the short end of the three hour time difference.
Yuri falls easily into a habitual scowl. “You are useless to me unconscious, go to bed.”
It’s possible that Otabek has had too much exposure to the scowl. Much like other Yuuri and stupid Viktor, it no longer seems to be effective. Otabek’s mouth curves slightly. At least he has the good sense not to call Yuri adorable when he’s trying to look angry, unlike Viktor.
“You too, yeah? I’m sure your morning practice is just as early as mine,” Otabek says as if they didn’t have each other’s schedules memorized.
Yuri crossed his arms and slumped back in his chair. “Don’t worry about me. I always get enough sleep.”
Otabek didn’t quite laugh but the amusement was clear in his voice. “Wasn’t it just last week that you posted ‘the perfect burn’ to one of JJ’s Instagram posts at three am?”
“That was a necessary exception.”
“Of course.”
Yuri can feel the fondness welling up in his chest, making him feel warm like he was already wrapped up in his blankets, pushing the frown on his face closer to a smile. One of these days Otabek is going to catch on and find out just how much Yuri likes him.
A few minutes later they both stop dragging their feet and set up their next call. Otabek insisted that they always decide before they hang up, he says he likes knowing exactly when they’ll talk again. Yuri pretends to humor him and is very secretly touched.
He says goodnight and is hovering over the end call button when Otabek smiles softly.
“Goodnight, Yura. Sleep well.”
Otabek’s video blinks off a second before Yuri can react. His suddenly dark screen reflecting his own wide-eyed shock back at him. He stabs the call button before he can think it through. Otabek’s face pops back up, silent, one eyebrow raised in an obvious question.
“What the hell are you thinking, saying something like that when you aren’t- when I can’t-” Yuri finally accepts the fact that words have abandoned him and lets his head thump down onto the desk.
“Long distance sucks.”
Yuri’s mic is better than he thought because Otabek responds immediately. “It does. But I had an ulterior motive.”
Now it’s Yuri’s turn to look up questioningly. Is Otabek blushing? No, must be a trick of the webcam. “I wanted to say it for the first time where you couldn’t hit me. In case you didn’t like it.”
He feels heat flood his cheeks and there is no way he can write that off as the video quality. Otabek graciously pretends not to notice. “I like it.”
“Good.”
They stare at each other silently for a few moments, a matched set in flustered happiness. Finally Yuri clears his throat and breaks the silence.
“How long has it been since the Grand Prix?” He doesn’t really need to ask, he feels like there is a countdown clock somewhere in the back of his mind always ticking away the days since they last met in person.
“A while. About five weeks?” too long He can hear the sentiment behind Otabek’s words now.
Yuri lets just a little bit of the longing lodged in his chest seep into his voice. “I miss you, Beka.”
Otabek is definitely blushing.
Yuri has no illusions about his feelings for Otabek. There right behind that first flush of happiness at making an unexpected friend had been the tug of attraction. Though, with the hair and the motorcycle, Otabek really didn’t play fair. He assumed it had been mostly teenage hormones because to be honest at fifteen he had been turned on by far less. He waited it out, getting to know Otabek, waiting to see if he could manage being friends with someone.
It turns out that Otabek is easy to be friends with, at least for Yuri. He listens to Yuri’s rants without complaining. He gives advice when Yuri wants it and keeps (mostly) quiet when he doesn’t. It is nice to have someone who is completely on his side.
Yes, one could make the argument that he could include annoying other Yuuri and stupid Viktor in that category. They bent over backwards at times to prove how supportive they were. But he is under no illusions who comes first with those two. They have each other - he’s happy to have someone in skating who was just his.
There had been a lot of little signs that Otabek might feel the same way. Some things could just be written off as friendship, like the insistence on regular video calls. Others, like the lingering glances when he thinks Yuri isn’t looking and the way Otabek so thoroughly avoids helping Yuri stretch when they’re together are more difficult to explain.
Here, in the dark, even thousands of kilometers apart the realization finally settles over Yuri’s shoulder like a hot towel on sore muscles, making him feel comfortable and languid.
Otabek wants him.
How long has he been holding back?! Suddenly Yuri is annoyed. And turned on. And incredibly annoyed by being turned on.
He leans forward with a slightly more menacing glare. “You know the age of consent in both of our countries is sixteen.”
“I am painfully aware of that, trust me.” Otabek’s voice is as strong and even as always but now that he knows what to look for Yuri can hear a similar tension in it.
“And you know that I am currently seventeen and will be turning eighteen in-”
“In forty-one days, yes, Yura I know.” Otabek almost snaps back at him that time. Yuri is inexplicably delighted.
He can’t stop his frown from melting into a wicked grin. “It’s only a week until the European Championship.”
Yuri doesn’t think he’s imagining the gleam in Otabek’s eyes, the one that is nearly, almost like the glint of challenge just before he steps onto the ice - but not quite. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“You and me both.”
Your turn,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chuyeol!
The competition schedule is loosely based on the 2016-2017 calendar but this takes place two years after Yuri on Ice.
He thinks that Otabek is doing a pretty bad job of trying to hide a yawn. The fake cough he goes for doesn’t cover the fact that his eyelids have been drooping for the last ten minutes. Even through the step removed that is Skype he can tell Otabek is falling asleep. They manage pretty well most of the time but in the evenings, Otabek tends to get the short end of the three hour time difference.
Yuri falls easily into a habitual scowl. “You are useless to me unconscious, go to bed.”
It’s possible that Otabek has had too much exposure to the scowl. Much like other Yuuri and stupid Viktor, it no longer seems to be effective. Otabek’s mouth curves slightly. At least he has the good sense not to call Yuri adorable when he’s trying to look angry, unlike Viktor.
“You too, yeah? I’m sure your morning practice is just as early as mine,” Otabek says as if they didn’t have each other’s schedules memorized.
Yuri crossed his arms and slumped back in his chair. “Don’t worry about me. I always get enough sleep.”
Otabek didn’t quite laugh but the amusement was clear in his voice. “Wasn’t it just last week that you posted ‘the perfect burn’ to one of JJ’s Instagram posts at three am?”
“That was a necessary exception.”
“Of course.”
Yuri can feel the fondness welling up in his chest, making him feel warm like he was already wrapped up in his blankets, pushing the frown on his face closer to a smile. One of these days Otabek is going to catch on and find out just how much Yuri likes him.
A few minutes later they both stop dragging their feet and set up their next call. Otabek insisted that they always decide before they hang up, he says he likes knowing exactly when they’ll talk again. Yuri pretends to humor him and is very secretly touched.
He says goodnight and is hovering over the end call button when Otabek smiles softly.
“Goodnight, Yura. Sleep well.”
Otabek’s video blinks off a second before Yuri can react. His suddenly dark screen reflecting his own wide-eyed shock back at him. He stabs the call button before he can think it through. Otabek’s face pops back up, silent, one eyebrow raised in an obvious question.
“What the hell are you thinking, saying something like that when you aren’t- when I can’t-” Yuri finally accepts the fact that words have abandoned him and lets his head thump down onto the desk.
“Long distance sucks.”
Yuri’s mic is better than he thought because Otabek responds immediately. “It does. But I had an ulterior motive.”
Now it’s Yuri’s turn to look up questioningly. Is Otabek blushing? No, must be a trick of the webcam. “I wanted to say it for the first time where you couldn’t hit me. In case you didn’t like it.”
He feels heat flood his cheeks and there is no way he can write that off as the video quality. Otabek graciously pretends not to notice. “I like it.”
“Good.”
They stare at each other silently for a few moments, a matched set in flustered happiness. Finally Yuri clears his throat and breaks the silence.
“How long has it been since the Grand Prix?” He doesn’t really need to ask, he feels like there is a countdown clock somewhere in the back of his mind always ticking away the days since they last met in person.
“A while. About five weeks?” too long He can hear the sentiment behind Otabek’s words now.
Yuri lets just a little bit of the longing lodged in his chest seep into his voice. “I miss you, Beka.”
Otabek is definitely blushing.
Yuri has no illusions about his feelings for Otabek. There right behind that first flush of happiness at making an unexpected friend had been the tug of attraction. Though, with the hair and the motorcycle, Otabek really didn’t play fair. He assumed it had been mostly teenage hormones because to be honest at fifteen he had been turned on by far less. He waited it out, getting to know Otabek, waiting to see if he could manage being friends with someone.
It turns out that Otabek is easy to be friends with, at least for Yuri. He listens to Yuri’s rants without complaining. He gives advice when Yuri wants it and keeps (mostly) quiet when he doesn’t. It is nice to have someone who is completely on his side.
Yes, one could make the argument that he could include annoying other Yuuri and stupid Viktor in that category. They bent over backwards at times to prove how supportive they were. But he is under no illusions who comes first with those two. They have each other - he’s happy to have someone in skating who was just his.
There had been a lot of little signs that Otabek might feel the same way. Some things could just be written off as friendship, like the insistence on regular video calls. Others, like the lingering glances when he thinks Yuri isn’t looking and the way Otabek so thoroughly avoids helping Yuri stretch when they’re together are more difficult to explain.
Here, in the dark, even thousands of kilometers apart the realization finally settles over Yuri’s shoulder like a hot towel on sore muscles, making him feel comfortable and languid.
Otabek wants him.
How long has he been holding back?! Suddenly Yuri is annoyed. And turned on. And incredibly annoyed by being turned on.
He leans forward with a slightly more menacing glare. “You know the age of consent in both of our countries is sixteen.”
“I am painfully aware of that, trust me.” Otabek’s voice is as strong and even as always but now that he knows what to look for Yuri can hear a similar tension in it.
“And you know that I am currently seventeen and will be turning eighteen in-”
“In forty-one days, yes, Yura I know.” Otabek almost snaps back at him that time. Yuri is inexplicably delighted.
He can’t stop his frown from melting into a wicked grin. “It’s only a week until the European Championship.”
Yuri doesn’t think he’s imagining the gleam in Otabek’s eyes, the one that is nearly, almost like the glint of challenge just before he steps onto the ice - but not quite. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“You and me both.”
Your turn,
chuyeol!
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does yuri even need help stretching. like for real.
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