☆ OTAYURI ONE SHOTS ☆ [y!!!oi]

You catch on like a bonfire. (Pt. 2) *

This part is slightly shorter but still rly hot so enjoy sinners

Author: idrilka on ao3, part 2 of their "in medias res" series show them some luv
☆Ship: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky (wowe such surprise)
☆Summary:
It's Yuri's third time in Asia with the Stars on Ice tour, but the first time he gets to do this with Otabek.

(An interlude. In which there are things Yuri needs to admit about himself.)

Notes / Additional Tags:
Future Fic
Fingering
Riding
Relationship Upgrade
sex is always a competition around here

They land in Fukuoka at some ass o'clock after five hours on a plane from Bangkok.

Yuri slept through most of the flight, and he goes through customs groggy and cranky. His joints ache like a motherfucker after the last-minute fuck-up at Suvarnabhumi that meant they had to fly coach this time to make it on schedule. What he needs is a cup of coffee, a bed, and five more hours of uninterrupted rest before he can start to look like something vaguely resembling a human being. Currently, he's just a pissed-off bundle of animal print, hair tangles, and cold sweat.

He fucking hates travelling by plane. Buses he can handle, and he likes trains best, but every time he steps off a plane, smelling like the stale recycled air, he feels like he's just aged five years in the span of a few hours.

Victor, on the other hand, is ecstatic and fresh as a daisy, like the fucker didn't just spend the same five hours in the same cramped seats. The only consolation is that Katsuki also looks like shit warmed over.

You win some, you lose some, Yuri guesses.

"Come on," Otabek says, handing Yuri his luggage. "The bus is waiting."

Yuri drags the suitcase behind him unceremoniously and clambers onto the bus, then claims the first free window seat and collapses against the backrest. Otabek slots into the aisle seat next to him a moment later.

"Sleep," he tells Yuri. "I'll wake you up when we get to the hotel."

They get a late start the following morning. It's almost ten a.m. when Yuri finally comes down for breakfast, grabbing a cup of plain yogurt from the buffet on his way along with a mug of coffee. He needs about four more of those before anyone should attempt to talk to him.

"Good morning," Otabek says as Yuri slumps into the chair next to him. He has a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal and an assortment of fresh fruit in front of him. "Your hair is a mess."

Yuri takes a large drink of his coffee and gives Otabek the finger at the same time. "Fuck off," he says into the rim of his cup. "Just because you're a freak with perfect hair doesn't mean we all have to be."

In lieu of answering, Otabek catches Yuri by the extended finger and tugs until Yuri can feel the knuckle joints pop.

"So I'm a freak with perfect hair, huh?" Otabek glances off to the side at Yuri, and honestly, nobody should be able to look this smug when they have roughly one facial expression to go around on the best of days.

Yuri can feel the violent flush that creeps up his neck and threatens to flood his face.

"You're something, okay," he says stubbornly, burying his face in his hoodie. "Now shut up and eat your oatmeal. And give me the apples. You can have your disgusting grapefruit."