Otayuri | complete

Fresh- Fluff

Word Count: 746

For what it's worth, I was just fucked by a World Class athlete. I have no shame. But I am somewhat ashamed of the pain accompanying the trek to the shower. I find myself heavily leaning on Otabek for support, suddenly unable to even stand on my own.

"Hot or cold," Otabek asks my preference of water temperature.

"Cold," I grumble, still feeling feverishly warm.

"Alright," Otabek spins the dial until frigid water falls in a gentle stream from the shower head. "Do I need to continue holding you?" I resent the amusement in his question.

"Ugh, I'm topping next time," I roll my eyes, although tightening my grip around his shoulders as we step under the water.

"You said that last time," Otabek smirks, the quick kiss that follows as clean as the soap he smoothes down my back.

Taken by surprise, I almost slip until his stronger arms steady me on my feet again. I am practically using his arm as a crutch. If I could stop the heat from boiling under my skin, I would. But even under the cold water, I am helpless to blush.

"You just wait, Beka," I grumble, returning the kiss reluctantly.

But as his lips touch mine again, greed overtakes my desire to snark. A soft "oh," falls from my lips as quickly and as swiftly as the water from the shower head. Otabek, that smooth bastard, takes the opportunity to sweeten the kiss and comfortingly massage my back with every additional stroke of soap. He lulls me into a state of squeaky-clean bliss.

A comfortable lapse in conversation follows the tender touch of his hands. The occasional coo will tumble from either of us, but we choose to simply enjoy the tactile sensation of fresh, clean partnership. When the water turns off, it is almost like awakening from a trance.

I blink around and shake the wet hair out of my face, searching Otabek's face. For what I am searching, I am unsure, but whatever his steady gaze supplies is enough to reassure me. I collapse against his chest, temporarily throwing him off balance. The sudden threat of crashing to the floor puts my systems on high alert, but Otabek simply stumbles and then stands tall as if it never happened. He smirks at me.

"You ought to rest now," he says lowly.

"Oh, yeah, you know that for sure?" I tease, daring to stand back and walk on my own.

Otabek's eyebrows almost lift, he is so impressed when I don't fall. I am relying on good balance, but I am standing independently, nonetheless. Walking, however, still appears out of the question.

"Beka," I groan, suddenly shivering. "Please, help me."

He sweeps me up in a fresh towel and kisses every available inch of skin as he walks me toward the bed. I land with a heavy plop! at his mercy. Otabek quietly walks away and begins to dry himself off while I sit and watch, quietly admiring the muscles in his back as they twitch with his movements. How did I get here, shamefully-shamelessly admiring the goddamn sexiest view given to any man on the planet?

As if to exaggerate my thought, Otabek drops the towel by accident, exposing every bit of skin I wanted to see. My stomach tingles with fresh desire. I avert my eyes however, just in time for Otabek to turn around and watch the blush dust my cheeks for the umpteenth time tonight.

"Sorry," he mutters, stepping into his clothes.

"No, don't do that," I protest too quickly. "What are the odds of you staying the night here?" I ask hopefully.

Otabek glances at the bedside alarm clock then back toward me. He stands, clad only in his underwear. He shrugs.

"Okay, Yura," he nods. "But I have to go in the morning."

"Wake me up before you leave," I implore.

"Alright," he acquiesces as he nudges me aside and joins me in bed. "But I'm the big spoon."

"You're always the big spoon," I argue. "I want to be the big spoon."

"Oh yeah?" his voice rumbles in a manner as close to laughter as he can achieve. "Earn it."

"Why I oughta--" I grumble, pouncing on him with renewed strength and energy. "There," I declare, clinging to his back like a panda to bamboo. "I am the big spoon now."

"You got me," Otabek deadpans.

"Awesome," I whisper, pressing a ginger kiss just below his ear.