Yurio X Otabek; Alpha and Omega

Mirror

Yurio's eyes flickered open and he glanced over at the lengthy mirror as he climbed out of the single bed given to him by Beka.
He passed over to it and examined his naked body.
He was startlingly thin. Although only slightly, his ribs were starting to show, and yet Yurio hated the fat still on his arms, legs, and stomach.
He clenched his teeth in concealed agony and walked back to the bed with clenched fists.
He layed down and closed his eyes, but when he tried to sleep he felt a rib poke him stubbornly.
He turned onto his back, but he felt stiflingly hot, and despite how tired he was, his body found no restful position.
Instead of tossing and turning, he simply lay staring up at the pure white ceiling until he eyes stung and he body burned with heat.
All Yurio could see were disturbing pictures of his abused mother, and pictures of himself when he was 13, head on his knees, sobbing.
Then the picture moved, and the memory Yurio lifted his head up to reveal a teary boy, his face creased up, eyes narrowed from the tears. He looked.... Ugly.
(No I don't think Yurio is ugly, I mean Yurio himself thought he was ugly #Yurioisbeautiful)
Yurio gasped as he was woken up by a hand on his shoulder bringing him back to reality.
He opened his eyes to see Otabek, with his signature poker face, holding a plate of fruit.
Yurio took it warily, chewing on a piece of apple in resigned thoughtfulness.
Otabek leant against the wall next to the bed, watching Yurio silently, and emotions he might be feeling covered up.
"Do you want to do something today?" He asked blankly.
"Sure" the teen replied half earnestly.
Otabek nodded and left the room, heading down the stairs.
Yurio finished swallowing a piece of orange, and got of bed, heading downstairs to the kitchen, plate in hand.
He deposited the plate in the washing up bowl, nevel truly in a mood to wash up.
Otabek may be his friend, but he wasn't about to start washing his dishes for him.
Yurio flopped down onto the sofa and asked "What do you want to do then?" He raised a brow at Otabek.
"You can try skating again" Otabek stated.
Yurio's eyes widened if only for a second, but he managed to turn his surprise into ignorance and commented back "Sure."

Yurio was pulling his skates on, and Otabek was already on the ice, waiting patiently for the teen.
Because they were in China, they were in a different rink, but the rink was closed so obviously the owner trusted Otabek, and Yurio really didn't want to face any other people right now.
(The house Otabek is in isn't his actual house, he lives in Kazakh, he rented a house in China)
Yurio walked out of the changing rooms, taking off his guards as he stepped onto the ice, breathing in the cool air.
He started skating fairly slow around the outer circle of the rink, before starting to pick up speed.
Otabek leaned on the side, eyes on Yurio as he watched his practice.
It hadn't been long since the last compitition, but Yurio already felt out of practice.
He very rarely went a day without practice, let alone a few on top of the time he was unconscious.
Yurio stopped his mild warm up after a few minutes, starting to stretch by lifting his foot up to his head, before abruptly starting a new routine he was thinking up randomly.
He started by skating gracefully across half the rink, before lifting off the ground in a triple axel.
Yurio's blades met the ground with an ungraceful thump, and he dropped his legs to the ice, half folded under him as he gasped and clutched his lower stomach.
Otabek instantly rushed over to him, folding his legs under him and grabbing Yurio's hand.
"What's wrong?" He asked with worry laced in his tone.
"Hurts" Yurio gasped out.
Otabek understood and hoisted him into his arms as he glided over to the entrance of the rink and stepped out walking over to the changing room without any skating guards.
He placed Yurio on the bench and stroked his hair comfortingly.
Yurio broke a sweat and lay on the bench with his body shaking from the hoarse breaths he was inhaling and exhaling.
His eyes were clenched tightly shut, and he lay like that for twenty minutes, fighting not to make a commotion at the knawing pain.
After a while, however, his breathing calmed and he got up, ignoring Otabek's offer of him carrying the teen.
He padded back out to the ice, turning only at Otabek's shout of alarm.
"Yurio, let's leave, your not ready!" He shouted, but Yurio simply turned back to the ice and continued walking to the entrance, intent on practicing.
He nearly startled as Otabek grabbed his arm, bringing him into his chest.
The Russian soon relaxed in his friends embrace, before breaking away and nodding, his intimidating look of his teenage anger plastered back on his face.
He walked straight past Otabek, and he went back into the changing rooms, tugging his skates off and stuffing them and his guards into the bag he brought along.
Otabek was stuffing his skates into his bag when Yurio came back, and the teen watched his Beka stand and nod once, before walking besides him to the entrance.
When they arrived back home, the kitchen clock told that it was 1:16.
Otabek set to making dinner.
Yurio thought the idea of Otabek making dinner weird. He just couldn't imagine the poker faced skater cooking.
At least he wasn't wearing an apron. He startled as Otabek said "Can you help me make dinner?" Yurio knew it wasn't a question, it was a command, and he reluctantly helped make the food they would be having for dinner, chopping some vegetables.
All the same, Yurio was glad that Otabek wasn't babying him just because he had a weak moment earlier.
That was one reason Yurio accepted Otabek as a friend. He wasn't overprotective or a show off, like Viktor, yet neither was he weak and shy like Yuuri.
He just liked to keep to himself. He didn't bother with those he didn't want to bother with. In some terms, Yurio felt like he could relate to Otabek in some ways.
The difference was that Yurio was angry and tried to control using a moody tone and rude words, and Otabek did it calmly and stealthily, not often letting his emotions interfere.
And, in some ways, Yurio looked up to him.
But he was not a Yuuri having a crush on a Viktor.
Otabek was his friend, and he wasn't sone sad person who pined over their idol like Yuuri.
Making and eating dinner took a couple of hours, and the rest of the day was spent flicking through their phones and minding their own business.
Yurio was thankful Yurio hadn't brought up the subject of what happened earlier in the rink.
It was 11:48pm, and Otabek was still awake, unless he was sleeping on the sofa downstairs.
Yurio had been silently waiting for Otabek to go to bed for three hours, and before half an hour had passed he was distracting himself with skating videos on YouTube.
Eventually Yurio grew bored even of that, and his impatience soaked through.
No longer caring if Otabek heard, he opened his door and walked over to the bathroom, locking it behind himself and flicking the light on.
Otabek had his personal bathroom attached to his bedroom, so he didn't have a reason to come in the landing bathroom.
Yurio hoped.
He lifted the toilet lid up and shoved two fingers down his throat, clenching his stomach.
His throat burned as vimit rised, and once all the sick was in the toilet, he repeated again and flushed, then brushed his teeth, walking out and going back to his bedroom.

Bet not many of you saw that coming!