#toxic yuri cat couple part 1

[viscerast]

warriors oc BLAST

this is piper :3 i put her into a timeloop for her sins

[charles195]

(Late) OtaYuri Week: Day 2 - Social Media/Celebrations

Word Count: 1.6k+

Rating: T+ 

Summary: In the off-season, bad habits arise for the skaters who can only pull themselves together when the world is watching them. 

A/N: Loose use of the prompt. I haven’t slept all night. It is currently almost 7 A.M. for me. Can be read as a continuation of Day 1 or as its own piece. 

Yuri heard a noise nearby, like some kind of thumping. He didn’t mind it until he noticed it and once he noticed it, he couldn’t ignore it. He hated becoming conscious of undeniable facts out of his control: his own breathing, blinking, the short shelf life of his body, the inevitability of death… That was what social media was for--to be a distraction from unresolvable tensions about the human condition. So, he checked Instagram since Otabek didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk to him after flying out just to see him. That was fine. Besides, he was curious about how many likes his most recent post was getting.

Any picture that featured Otabek in it seemed to be a hit with Yuri’s Angels, sure, but add in the skating world’s power couple “Victuuri”, and suddenly ten more people felt like following Yuri. Eight of them were also Otabek’s followers, even though he rarely posted. Yuri curiously tuned into Victor’s livestream from the kitchen. Yuuri and Victor were pretending like they were on a cook show while they prepared their famous dish and inspiration for Eros, the katsudon bowl. Yuri suspected that that was the only dish they actually knew how to prepare. He commented, stop fooling around, i’m hungry.

“Ten more minutes, Yurio!” Victor promised.

Yuri commented again, stop calling me that, i knew you before katsudon did.

“Ah, Yurio is jealous!” Victor whispered to Yuuri in the video.

I’M STILL WATCHING, YOU STUPID OLD MAN.

“That’s strange. When I met first met Yurio, I was the one who was jealous of how comfortable he was with you,” Yuuri mused. “He even slept in the same bed as you when you accidentally got him sick by sending him to the waterfall too many times! Oh, I think I still have pictures...”

Yuri checked Otabek’s expression for the millionth time that hour. It was stoic and unreadable, like usual, and that irritating thumping noise was still continuing. Yuuri’s anecdote about Yuri’s sick day in Japan was playing on the livestream on Yuri’s phone, definitely within Otabek’s hearing range, yet Otabek did not even acknowledge it. Yuri sighed loudly, loud enough to cue Otabek to ask him what was wrong, closed the livestream, and laid his head on the edge of the table.

He discovered the source of the thumping noise. Otabek was shaking his leg.

Yuri rose his head. “What’s wrong with you? You’re like an addict anxious about when his next dose will be.”

“SorryIneedfreshair,” Otabek mumbled hurriedly before he stepped out of the front door.

Yuri just let it happen. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with the only friend he had in the brief time they had together, not that the time was being put to any good use.

Victor and Yuuri emerged from the kitchen as soon as Otabek was gone. Yuuri immediately noticed the empty seat, where Otabek previously was. It wasn’t even pushed in--what savagery. “Did you two have a fight?” he asked. It was a natural assumption, given the angry looks both Otabek and Yuri had been wearing before, but it was hard to tell since they both had a bad case of resting bitch face.

“I wish,” Yuri admitted. “He’s a mystery.”

Yuuri locked hands with Victor. “Victor was a mystery to me, too, when he first came to coach me…”

Victor frowned and released Yuuri’s hand. “‘Was’? Do I not surprise you anymore?”

Yuuri laughed nervously. “N-N-No, th-that’s not what I mean…”

Yuri rolled his eyes--he was amazed that someone as impulsive Victor managed to sustain a relationship with someone with as much anxiety as Yuuri. “Victor is just stupid. Otabek is a real mystery. I know nothing about him. I have no idea what we have in common besides skating and a time we met that I don’t remember.”

Yuuri could almost relate, except for the fact that he knew every trivia fact there was to know about Victor Nikiforov from his favorite conditioner to his most common order at Starbucks before Victor even knew Yuuri existed. Yuri was right--the few social media accounts that Otabek did have revealed nothing about his personal life, other than he lived in Almaty and that he hated long escalators.

“Where is he?” Victor asked. “Bathroom?”

Yuri shrugged. “He said he needed fresh air. He has been shaking his leg a lot. I know I should’ve gone after him, but I don’t want him to snap at me.”

“He won’t be offended if you just show that you care,” Yuuri assured him.

“That won’t stop him from snapping. It’s a toxic masculinity thing.”

Victor nodded sympathetically. “I’d be mad if I was scared of my only friend snapping at me, too…”

Yuri immediately got up and went after Otabek. “Fuck you, I’m not scared! I’ll talk to him!” he declared.

Yuuri’s phone alarm rang. The katsudon was ready.

The only reasons Yuri could of for why someone would ask to get fresh air was because they were overwhelmed with anxiety or because they desperately needed a smoke break. It was rather biased, but Yuri assumed that Otabek was a smoker since he also wore leather jackets and rode motorcycles. Yuri opened the front door wide to find Otabek with a lighter in his hand and a cigarette in between his lips. “Oh.” He didn’t expect his prejudiced assumption to be correct. “Smoke doesn’t count as ‘fresh air’ unless it’s pollution, you know.”

Otabek ripped the cigarette away from him and grabbed the collar of Yuri’s shirt. “I work three jobs in the off-season and I’m still months behind my coaching fees.”

From inside the house, Makkachin barked and growled.

“Be quiet, dog!” Otabek yelled. “Not all of us can rely on wealthy men!”

It seemed that the dog had a good grasp of Russian. Makkachin understood that it was best if he returned to his owners’ side without protest. For once, Yuri was inwardly praising a dog for its intelligence.

Yuri pried Otabek’s fingers from his shirt and took a step back. “I wasn’t going to lecture you. I can’t control you.”

Otabek’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Yuri, I’m sorry… I’m… I’m sorry, I’m really sorry--”

Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets. “I heard you first time. Just go smoke, I don’t care.”

Otabek flicked his lighter on and off. “I’ve been trying to quit for you.”

“For me?” Yuri scoffed. It wasn’t that the thought didn’t flatter him. He just didn’t understand why he was worthy of such dedication, or at least the remnants of dedication that were hanging on by a thread. “I wouldn’t even delete my Facebook account for you.”

It took everything in Otabek’s body to not give into his nicotine craving or the sudden urge to light himself on fire. Both were strong. “I’m sorry, Yura. I always quit before competitive season starts, but in the off-season, there’s nothing to stop me from letting my lungs rot. Or at least, there was… I wanted to celebrate your presence in my life by finally quitting.”

“Quit, then,” Yuri told Otabek firmly, as if it was as simple as that. In Yuri’s naive mind, it was.

Otabek gave his cigarette to Yuri, along with the rest of the pack. Yuri looked at it in disgust before taking Otabek’s lighter and crushing that below his foot. The crunch was satisfying.

“There. Can’t make smoke without fire,” Yuri said smugly. He left Otabek on the front steps while he retreated back inside for warmth and to throw away the cigarettes.

The smell of katsudon entices Otabek into following.

“Do you drink, Otabek?” Yuuri asked after opening a bottle of sake.

Otabek could feel the judgement from Makkachin--those shiny eyes, that tongue hanging out, the wagging tail.... He couldn’t believe the dog had his own seat at the dining table--at the head of the table, too. He was, to Yuri’s satisfaction, definitely a cat person. “I try not to.”

Makkachin barked sharply at his response. Otabek slammed his hand on the table and stood up. “I said that I try!”

Yuri took the bottle of sake and poured himself a cup while everyone else was frozen in silence. Otabek ashamedly sat back down when he regained his composure.

“I take it the off-season is stressful for you?” Victor guessed. He has been in the skating world long enough to know what withdrawal looked like, whether it was from the adrenaline from a competition or steroids or a tasty bowl of katsudon.

Otabek nodded. “I don’t understand how you all afford competition season.”

“I’m the type of fame that comes with fortune,” Victor admitted bluntly.

Yuri crossed his arms. “The Angels,” he spat out.

Yuuri enviously glared at the two. “I understand how you feel, Otabek. The only reason why I’m more relaxed this time around is because my coaching fees were no problem for me to pay off.” He patted Otabek’s hand to comfort him, “unintentionally” giving Otabek a perfect view of his golden ring. “It was a nightmare when I was in America for college and skating competitively.”

Otabek appreciated that Yuuri was familiar with the “stressed” part, but he was talking about the “poorer than dirt” part. “Did you work?”

Yuuri’s face suddenly heated up at least twenty degrees hotter.

Victor whipped out his phone and started another livestream. “Hello, viewers! This is Victor soon-to-be Katsuki-Nikiforov and Yuuri soon-to-be Katsuki-Nikiforov with the Ice Kitten of Russia and the Anti-Hero of Kazakh. This just in, a fascinating new story has been revealed about Yuuri’s off-season job while he was in America! Yuuri, do tell!”

Victor tried to encourage Yuuri by pouring him a cup of sake. He was disappointed when Yuuri shyly pushed away the cup…

… only to take a swig from the bottle itself.