Yuri!!! On Ice Book 2

Chapter 17

Yuri's POV-- 3rd Person Omniscient

Yuri all but collapses on the apartment's floor; disheveled, exhausted, and pissed off by the zealousness with which the Yuri's Angels take their job of stalking him. All he wants to do is go to sleep.

But, after shooting a furtive glance toward his locked door, he pulls himself off the mat, and, leaving his case abandoned in the hallway, heads toward the kitchen, wondering if there's anything he's willing to eat.

There's not, it turns out, but he finds his cat sitting on the counter instead-- demanding to be fed. His attention is drawn away from her persistent mewing, however, by the piece of paper just peeking out from beneath her tail. Lifting her, much to her protestations, he retrieves the sheet and surveys the slanting writing he knows to be Otabek's hand.

Yuri,

He smiles,

I fed Potya, but she'll lie and act starved anyway, so, in lieu of staying up all night with a pissed-off cat, I'd give her a small snack to let you sleep.

I did the shopping but was unable to find several of the things we (you) normally buy-- the store seems to be out.

Congrats on the win- I know I told you that already but still.

I'll see you soon!

Love you, Beka

Lifting his gaze from the paper in his hand, he stares down at the squirming animal in his arms, rolling his eyes at her when she hisses in a futile attempt to escape.

"Now, be honest with me," He asks her, turning from her eyes to the note- "Did you write this? Or did you force Otabek upon pain of death to do so?" She just glares at him reproachfully and swishes her tail in a dignified manner, stating in her nonverbal, cat way, that she is above such accusations. "Whatever," Yuri mutters, "He's right anyway-- you'll meow at me until I feed you,"

And with that, he lets her down, plonking her unceremoniously on the counter as he moves to the fridge, retrieving one of her fish things from its depths. He wrinkles his nose at the smell when he opens the container, but, judging by the way Potya is clawing at his turned back, she rather likes it. He scoops some out and puts it in her bowl for her, gagging slightly as it falls onto the ceramic with a wet squelch, the oil in it seeping slowly from the mess, that, in some form of the word, is fish. Eagerly, she jumps upon it; devouring it, and, deciding to leave before she's done and can pester him for more, Yuri puts the rest of the container in the fridge and heads off to his bedroom-- intending to fall onto the covers and sleep for a solid 15 hours.

He does just that, but even as he does, he feels his desire for the motion ebb away. The bed is cold.

He hasn't slept in a cold bed in quite a while; first getting used to sharing the space with Otabek, then sleeping in hotels with their weird, fancy, heat-warmer things-- it's strange to come back to empty sheets. Rolling over, Yuri buries himself in the covers, fashioning a burrito for himself and crawling inside, not liking the empty vastness of the mattress before him.

He falls asleep relatively quickly, the exhaustion in his body beating any semblance of resistance from his mind. But, still, he thinks hazily as he drifts off, he doesn't like sleeping alone.

***

Yuri rolls off of his couch, flopping onto the floor limply. He's been banned from the rink and the ballet studio, Yakov and Lilia using their joint forces to insist that he 'rest,' having won a major competition recently. They're convinced he needs recovery time as athletes so often do after pushing themselves to, or past, the limits to win. He, however, doesn't, and is now bored of his fucking mind.