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It was a good day. Actually, scratch that and chuck it in a river, that’s the most untrue statement of the century. It was not a good day at all. Or, really, it wasn’t a good afternoon. Yuri Plisetsky’s day was extraordinarily mundane, he woke up at 7:00, had breakfast, trained with Yakov at the rink, then with Lilia at the studio. His day took a turn for the worst, however, when he threw up in the bathroom after his ballet class with Lilia.
Thankfully, no one heard, so no one was in the conjoined dressing room and bathroom to ask if he was alright. Because he was fine. No one should have to worry about him. He must have forgotten lunch again judging by how his stomach hurt, and, in retrospect, his breakfast definitely wasn’t enough for how much work he had done today. To top it off, he forgot to bring his water bottle, so he barely drank anything at all and had a developing headache.
I can’t believe I let this happen again . He cupped his hands under the faucet of the sink and watched his hands fill up with water. I can’t even take care of myself . He drank the water and repeated the process until he felt bloated and the water sloshed around inside him painfully. He finished changing, searching through his bag for anything edible. Nothing . Shaking, anxious hands hurriedly packed up his things. Not even a fucking protein bar . Yuri mentally kicked himself for being so stupid and walked out of the dressing room to meet with Lilia and go home.
--
“God dammit.” Yuri groaned into his hands as he fell back on the bed he was sitting in. “Leave me alone already. Please.” He peeked between in his fingers at the screen of his laptop, the Skype ringtone blasting from the speakers, interrupting his music. The caller was someone Yuri desperately wanted to talk to... just not at that moment, and no he’s not avoiding him, he’s not . He’s not.
The Skype ringtone stopped and Yuri buried his head in his pillow and sighed in relief. His stomach still ached and his head still pounded despite the fact that he ate a frozen TV dinner and drank a full glass of water as soon as he got home over an hour ago. Yuri fumed as he remembered the taste of the brown slimy mess that was probably meant to be some form of beef he microwaved, it was cold in the middle and the sauce on top of it smelled like cat food. He could have easily just put the damn tray back in the stupid microwave for thirty more seconds, but he had already started walking to his room when he tasted it. Besides, it felt like adequate punishment for forgetting.
The quiet was short lived when Skype started singing again. Yuri screamed into the pillow before sitting up and clicking the green button to accept the call. The playlist that he was listening to earlier resuming as Skype connected.
“Hi… Otabek.” Yuri said, rubbing his eyes tiredly and covering his face with his hands. The Kazakh man on the other end didn’t respond for a solid minute. Two minutes… Three… Yuri removed his hands to check if he accidentally hit 'decline' instead, but, no, Otabek Altin's face was on his screen. They've known each other for only a few busy years, in which they've picked up on a lot of the other's mannerisms, but Yuri had a hard time figuring out what Otabek was feeling judging by his expression.
“What happened, Yura?” Otabek finally asked, eyebrows knit together. Concerned. That's what it was. Fuck.
“Nothing.” Yuri lied, tilting his laptop screen so the webcam couldn’t catch his face.
“Yura..” Otabek said softly.
“How was your day?”
“Normal, how was-”
“My day was fine.” Yuri said too quickly, cutting off Otabek and mentally scolding himself. That definitely wasn’t convincing at all, and now Otabek was going to worry even more. Damn it, I don’t deserve his pity . “Really, it was fine.” Yuri repeated.
“Please don’t lie to me. Especially about yourself.” Was all Otabek said. Yuri looked back at the screen, at Otabek, and noticed his expression changed, ever so slightly pained. Fuck fuck fuck-
“I’m not lying, my day was fine, now can we change the subject?”
“You’re listening to the playlist I made you.”
“Yeah, I am. Is that not what you intended me to do with it in the first place?”
“You only listen to it during our calls when something is bothering you.”
“Nothing is bothering me, I just like it.”
“Yura, you let the call go to voicemail four times before you picked up.”
“So what? Maybe I was busy.”
“That’s never stopped you before."
Yuri was backed into a corner and he didn’t like it. Otabek didn’t deserve the evasiveness he was getting, but Yuri didn’t want Otabek to think less of him. He probably thinks I’m a helpless little kid anyways, I don’t want him to worry about how I can barely take care of myself . Yet… Yuri has never held back what was on his mind with Otabek before. Yuri’s brutal honesty was actually something Otabek has admitted to liking the most about him. Yuri had replied with a rushed and way too loud "yeah right," before putting his hood up and checking his social media. It's a conversation that Yuri remembers vividly, which is both a blessing and a curse. Yuri sighed shakily and moved the laptop screen to bring himself back into view.
“I forgot to eat and... I forgot my water at home… and-” Yuri tried to swallow the lump in his throat and closed his eyes tightly when it stubbornly stayed in place. “And I threw up at the studio. Again. Because I was so stupid. No one heard me, thank God, but I'm just so fucking stupid. I can’t even take care of myself, it’s a miracle that I haven’t starved my cat by now.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“How could you know, Beka? The only time we see each other is when we have off from practice. You’ve never even been with me on a normal day.” Yuri could feel tears pricking his eyes and he wiped at them furiously, “The only reason I don’t forget to eat around you is because you’re the one who always suggests we go out! Without you calling me everyday, I’d probably even forget you exist . God damn it!” The tears started spilling over his cheeks and he felt like screaming again. This was a mistake, this was a mistake, Yuri you idiot, why’d you say all of that, idiot, idiot, idiot .
“Number one, Yuri, it’s not your fault you forget things and you know it. Number two, your day is filled to the brim with work and your mind has to constantly switch gears from one thing to another. You have two entire programs to memorize; you need to remember ballet combinations; you need to remember your daily schedule, remember if there's any changes to it, then execute it; and you still find the time and energy to do schoolwork and maintain your social media pages. Yura, you’re impossibly dedicated and passionate about what you do, so it’s completely normal for you lose sight of the daily things you need to take care of yourself. Everyone forgets those things sometimes.” Otabek responds, a small, careful smile appearing on his face. He looks so soft and kind that Yuri feels like sobbing. He holds it together, thankfully, but just barely suppresses the urge into a quiet choking sound.
“It’s not ‘sometimes.’” He mumbled and Otabek barely caught it. “It’s almost every day, I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried reminders, I’ve tried writing it on my hand, I’ve tried everything. I just put it off and put it off, until it’s too late for lunch, and even if I remembered, I wouldn't even have anything to eat in my bag because I forgot to put something in there.” Yuri looked down at his hands. “I’m so stupid.”
“Have you tried asking someone else to remind you until you do it?”
“No…”
“Do you want to try that?”
“I don’t want anyone to worry about me. You know how I am, Beka.”
“They don’t have to know that you’re struggling at all. You just ask them if they’d go to lunch with you. Like I do with you.”
“I… guess that’s okay. That’s actually a pretty good idea.”
“And I’ll remind you to ask someone, if you want me to.” Otabek smiles again and Yuri smiles back.
“Thank you, Beka.” Yuri hates how small he sounds, like a child , but the uncharacteristically playful smile on Otabek’s face is enough for him to be able to bury the self-loathing thoughts for the time being and feel content, or at the very least mildly apathetic.
“You’re welcome,” Otabek said affectionately, “are you okay?”
“Yeah. I-” Yuri paused to clear his throat nervously. “I’m just afraid that I’ll forget something important. Like, really important. Like, something to do with you… and I’m so scared of that because I think I really love you, Beka.” It’s not like they haven’t said it to each other before but each time that particular L-word slipped accidentally from Yuri's lips, it felt like the first time for the younger skater. Especially now, since Yuri isn’t just saying he loves Otabek. He’s telling the dark-haired man on his computer screen that he never wants to forget him. That he wants to have memories with Otabek, lots of them. Plisetsky was not one for audible expressions of love, but he was one of those people for Otabek. Otabek, who was now badly surpressing a cocky smirk by resting his head on his fist.
“Mm, I know you do, Yura. I really love you, too.” He responded contentedly. Yuri blushed and tried to cover his smile by pretending to scratch an itch on his nose. “And there’s no way you could forget about me because you’re so hopelessly in love with me.”
“You’re a dork,” Yuri giggled, “a cheesy dork.”
“Only for you, Yurochka.” Otabek lifted his hands, curved his fingers, extended his thumbs, and pressed his fingertips together. Oh hell no, that’s too cute.
“Put that heart away right now, Otabek Altin, or I swear to God I will hang up right now!” Yuri threatened, pretend-scowling and throwing his head back. He couldn’t hold back his laugh, though, and the effect was ruined.
“So did Viktor and Yuuri do anything crazy today?” Otabek asked and lowered his hands.
“Holy shit don’t get me started. I’ve never heard so many innuendos and I was around Chris during the banquet after the Marseille GPF!”
--
Yuri talked with Otabek for a few hours about Viktor and Katsudon, then they talked about their own programs for the coming season, when Yuri can visit Almaty again, as well as just enjoyed each other’s company. Neither of them ended the call that night, both of them fell asleep watching a TV show together. Otabek woke up earlier than Yuri, and smiled when he heard soft snoring coming from his computer and saw the top of the blond’s head. If Yuri had been awake, he would have heard Otabek tell him how much he loves Yuri, what he loves most about him, and his hopes for their relationship.
But Yuri hadn’t been awake. So that’ll have to wait for another time.