Yuri!!! On Ice Book 2

Chapter 8

**Author's Note!**

Hey, so, just a quick thing. I published Chapter 7 last night without proofing it and I was going over it today and found some issues. I revised the ending and republished it just a few minutes ago. This revision helps it flow better and I find it necessary, but, as I noticed 2 people already read it before it was altered, I suggest that if you were one of the two, you go back and just re-read the ending quickly. It isn't a drastic thing but you won't really understand this chapter if you miss it. That's all, thanks so much for your patience! Enjoy!

May 5th, 2018- The Next Day-

Otabek's POV

"Yuri," I whisper, nudging him slightly. He jumps and looks up, jerking back to consciousness.

"What?" He says quickly, "Is something wrong?"

"No," I reassure him gently, "Take a break, you're exhausted," He shakes his head,

"I'm fine," He stands up and walks up and down the room, effectively waking himself up and silencing any forthcoming request from me about making use of the cot strategically placed beside our chairs.

"You've been here for 72 hours," I counter, then, turning to glance at the occupant of the bed, "He'll be fine if you leave for a few minutes,"

"I know that," He says stubbornly, "He just hasn't woken up yet, I want to make sure I'm here when he does," I stand up too and come to his side,

"You will be, but something tells me you haven't left this room since you got here," He shrugs and looks away, confirming my belief, "Look, go get a coffee or something, I'll be right here," He seems defiant, but, after a glance through the window, relents.

"Fine, five minutes," He mutters and turns to go, stopping at the door and shooting his grandfather a concerned look before exiting. Through the window I watch him walk down the hall, getting on the elevator to find what I know will be the cafeteria.

I turn my gaze to my fellow inhabitant of the room, remembering what we'd been told. He has- I don't remember what, the term was long and complicated, but it basically meant that he's in serious but not fatal condition and he'll be back to normal in two weeks. This is a fact I keep reminding Yuri of, as he seems to be unable to fully convince himself it's true. I think he's so eager to believe that it is, that his grandfather will be fine, he's convinced himself not to, in case the opposite proves to be true. It's a defense mechanism, and one he's chosen to employ instead of his usual constant irateness. I've actually seen no appearance nor sign of it since I got here, leading me to believe that he's either too stressed and worried to show it (plausible) or that his grandfather's presence (awake or otherwise) is enough to reduce him to a sweeter version of himself. As the latter is a more flattering truth, I choose it, wanting to envision the person I know and love as a younger, more docile, version of himself.

'I know and love.' Love. 

That phrasing, while thankfully not verbally communicated, leads me to another, less favorable point. We haven't discussed what happened two nights ago, it being entirely (and rightly so) eclipsed by recent events- more recent anyway. This both concerns and relieves me at the same time, if Yuri's (for lack of a better word I say 'forgotten') about what happened, which he seems to have done, then it'll relieve the tension between us and let us get back to our previous easy relationship- which I want. On the other hand, he might just be focusing on the priority right now- (family member in the hospital, hello?) and is waiting until things calm down again for the conflict to resurface and arise for discussion. Either of these is okay by me, I just don't want to distract him from what really matters with something so trivial- if our relationship could go back to the way it was, things would be so much easier. But then, easy isn't what I want out of life. The things I've chosen; skating, moving to Russia to work under a new coach, hell, even Yuri, are all wonderful, and none of them comes even close to resembling simplicity.

I'm yanked out of my thoughts by an unfamiliar male voice. I turn to the bed and see none other than Nikolai Plisetsky sitting up and staring at me, a look of Who the fuck are you and why are you in my room? written on his face. 

"Where's Yuri?" Now I'm paying attention, I find his voice is rough and deep, but undeniably kind. I glance over my shoulder quickly, no Yuri in sight.

"I forced him to take a break, he's getting a coffee right now," I say awkwardly, fully aware that this man has absolutely no idea who I am. "I'm Otabek Altin," I clarify, as if that helps, "I know Yuri," He nods,

"I know," This response catches me off guard, and I must look it as he adds, "He's talked about you quite a bit,"

"Oh," I bob my head up and down, searching for a suitable response. The 'oh' is all I come up with. Great first impression right there. "I've heard a lot about you too," We stare at each other for a moment, and I get the impression he's sizing me up. I break the gaze though, looking again through the window, desperately needing a buffer for this conversation, or, more accurately, lack thereof. "Here he comes," I say gratefully, and internally wince at how obvious the relief in my voice is. 

Indeed though, Yuri's coming up the hallway bearing two coffees. He turns into the room and hands me one, which I accept, before noticing the change in our co-inhabitant. "Grandpa!" Yuri rushes to his side, smiling brightly, pure joy in his features, "How are you? Do you feel okay?" The old man smiles gently at the concern his grandson displays, so out of character for him.

"I'm fine Yurotchka, now-" He looks sternly at him, "Who called you? You shouldn't be here,"

"One of the doctors," Yuri replies quickly, ready for this, "And I'm not leaving until they say you're well enough to be on your own,"

"You need to be in Saint Petersburg," He insists, though not unkindly, and anyone can tell it's not because he doesn't want his grandson around, but because he knows what's best for him. "You need to train, you're doing so well, don't stop for me," Yuri shakes his head,

"Skating can wait two weeks, plus this is the perfect time! We have literally months before the next competition, we haven't even finished choreographing our programs yet- right Beka?" Yuri looks to me for confirmation,

"Yeah," I nod and Yuri turns back to his grandfather,

"See? It's fine, and even if it wasn't I'd still be here," Nikolai opens his mouth to protest once more but I speak before he can.

"Actually," I say, hoping I haven't just been rude in interrupting the man now watching me intently, "That occurred to me," I bend and pull out the luggage bag from beneath the chair in which I had been sitting, "I brought our skates," Yuri looks surprised,

"You thought of that?" I shrug,

"I didn't know how long we'd have to stay, so I grabbed the essentials; some clothing, skates, and I dropped Potya off with Mila." The look on Yuri's face is priceless, somewhere between dumbstruck and utter surprise. Needless to say, it takes everything I have not to laugh.

Nikolai looks between us, watching as Yuri struggles to form words, and gets a strange look on his face. It's removed quickly though, as he nods, seeming to accept the compromise.

"Um," Yuri speaks finally, "Why don't we go find a nurse to see when we can take you home?" His grandfather nods once more and we leave the room. 

I start down the hallway, trying to figure out where said nurse might be when Yuri catches up to me. "You really thought of all that?" He asks, looking confused

"Yeah, it's no big deal though," I shrug but stop walking as Yuri does so.

"But, why?" I shake my head slightly, not understanding what he means, so he rephrases, "Look, you didn't have to come here, not that I wish you didn't" He adds quickly, not wanting a misunderstanding (which I'm thoroughly grateful for) "It's great that you are, but why? You came all this way and did all that stuff so you must've had a good reason."

"I did," I reply and smile slightly, "You," Yuri blushes gently and glances toward the ground and then back up at me before speaking.

"I love you," He whispers, his cheeks tinged pink and his eyes bright- there's no doubting he means it.

"I love you too," I answer immediately. 

Our lips meet and this is one of those times you know you'll remember forever, because, in this moment, everything is perfect.