Insomnia (OtaYuri fanfic)

Chapter 4: Sweet dreams or beautiful nightmares

   The fireplace was burning warmly, giving the room a feeling of mystery and some sort of softness, making it look more like home for the two silhouettes that were sharing a brief moment of tenderness after all those lustful nights. "Y-Yuri... W-what are you saying?" Otabek had the Russian wrapped securely into a protective embrace, the dark haired male shocked by the words he just heard from his mouth, blushing slightly, his blush barely noticeable in the light of the fire burning silently, his eyes sparking in hope. The teenager looked up into his eyes with those beautiful emerald orbs of his, a genuine smile on his face. "What you just heard. I love you, Beka. I love you." He said, leaning closer, getting up on his tip toes, his lips almost touching the Kazakh's, brushing them over his roommate's softly with a smile. There was no sign of alcohol in his breath. He was sober. He was lucid. He confessed to him for real. The handsome foreigner let out a shaky breath, the intimacy of the moment giving him the worst butterflies he could have ever experienced in his life. The blond let out a short, shaky breath himself before whispering with an unusual sincerity and desire in his eyes. "So please, make me yours." He finally closed the space between them with a soft kiss, as the other slowly placing his hand underneath his pastel jumper, the warmth making his heart race, his palms that, until then, were cold, sweat like mad and the adrenaline rush into his blood. The other placed his hands on the dark haired male's chest, lightly pulling him down with him on the white, fluffy carpet, everything happening at such a slow pace. But it was finally true. Yuri loved him. No drunk, meaningless rushes of lust, just love. This was how he wished it to be. Their first time together to be of them making love, not having sex. This was so much more different than everything they'd do before. But different in all the best ways. Otabek lifted Yuri's shirt slightly, caressing his thigh with a smile, kissing down his neck, as his roommate left small gasps every now and then. Such innocent reactions, it was almost... adorable. He started kissing his stomach softly, a hand still up his jumper, to feel the heat of his body, the teenager whispering softly "I-I love you, Beka..." he said, his face turning red as he shyly covered his face with the sleeves of his oversized jumper. He was so adorable when he got embarrassed, the other thought. "Please. Let me see your face." The Kazakh said, taking his hands away from his face to replace them with his lips-

The exotic stranger in Russia woke up from his sweet dream, or beautiful nightmare, whatever this was, sweating and the heat in his body rising all of a sudden. He endured this dream for too long, ever since that God forsaken day when Yuri said he loves him in his drunken state, he had this dream every single night. Two, maybe three weeks have passed since that day, and the routine was always the same: Otabek would leave for work without waiting for Yuri to wake up, Yuri won't spend his drunken nights with Otabek anymore, but instead come home and break everything that there was to break, throwing everything that there was to throw, destroying everything that there was to destroy, Otabek not even bothering to check on him to see if he is ok, seeing as the other suddenly just decided to ignore him. After his night tantrum, he would run to his room, doing Lord knows what. Because of Yuri ignoring him like that, he took the opportunity to sleep more, since he would only stay up for a little longer just because Yuri is an insomniac. But unfortunately for him, he'd have the same dream every single night, waking up in sweat and a wet spot on his black boxers. Each night, he'd sneak in the bathroom, hoping his roommate was asleep already, even though it was not that likely. He felt ashamed that he was getting hard over a dream, a product of his imagination, a hope of having the blond only to himself, for his roommate to see no one else but him, so they could make love, instead of just meaningless drunken make out sessions, touching with no purpose, words with no meaning. But he couldn't help it. His body craved for his love, no matter how hard he was trying to deny him. But tonight, for the first time in three weeks, after taking care of his erection, he gathered all of his courage that he could, his left brain speaking to him for once. 'This can't go on' he told himself, getting up from the floor, a determined look on his face. He wanted to know why was the pretty boy ignoring him all of a sudden? He was so cold, to the point where he was not even looking at him anymore. Yet again, he has been avoiding him all of this time, so he didn't even know how he looked now. Did he get even prettier than he already was? Did he get a boyfriend or some shit? Did he remember about the nights and now he regretted it? Whatever it was, he needed to know what was going on.