Pirozhki

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Just another day. Yurio was laying on his bed flicking through his phone when Otabek entered.
It had been just over four hours since the two had arrived back home, and the sky was inked a deep black.
Yurio caught Otabek's eyes for a split second before his eyes trailer to the plate of Pirozhki in his hands.
He met his friends eyes with a curious expression, and Otabek said in an emotionless tone of voice "I brought you dinner."
The way he said it and the situation reminded the Russian of films he had watched where people being held captive would be given food by their captors. Despite the kindness, it reminded Yurio of that, oddly.
He nodded slightly in a curt show of thanks, taking the plate from Otabek. He had tired eyes and ruffled hair, and his clothes looked untidy, contrary to the usual tidyness of the man.
As he nodded in acknowledgement and left the room to return downstairs, presumably to tidy the kitchen if he hadn't already, Yurio realised in astonishment that Otabek must have spent ages trying to perfect the Pirozhki, most likely re-doing it numerous times.
Yurio smiled a tiny smile, knowing that no-one was there to see it and judge him.
He looked at the Pirozhki, stomach craving the favoured food, but instead he frowned and sighed.
He carried the plate to the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door before pushing the contents into the bin with his hand.
He knew that Otabek would be suspicious of him 'eating it' already, so he relaxed on his bed with his phone for half an hour, before bringing the plate downstairs, depositing it in the washing up bowl.
Yurio once again caught Otabek's eyes, but turned and walked upstairs, muttering a faint "thanks".
He was sure he saw his friend smile.

It was currently two in the morning. Yep. Yurio had laid awake, waiting for Otabek to go to bed, before waiting for a while, then having been absorbed in the task of staring at the ceiling.
When he checked his phone it was already two in the morning, so to prevent him accidentally staring at the ceiling again and forgetting the task at hand, the Russian climbed off his bed, still fully clothed, plugging in his phone and trying to silently make his way downstairs.
He kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he trod carefully, thankful that there were few creaks.
From there he spent a good seven minutes on the stairs, stepping down, waiting, stepping down, yep good to go.
When he finally met the carpeted floor beneath the also carpeted stairs, he breathed a long, shaky breath and relied on the carpet to hide his footsteps as the teen walked over to the kitchen, where the carpeting stopped and his bare feet slapped quietly on the marble floor.
He scanned the marble kitchen desk, his eyes landing on a piece of paper.
Ha. Otabek shouldn't think that he wouldn't come down early in the morning just because he pretty much so far had never got up of his own accord apart from waking up from the 'accident'.
He smirked and picked up the paper, scanning the writing.
After a few seconds his hand started shaking, along with his face paling dramatically.
Yurio was sure he felt a tear roll down his cheek, and lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away.
On the paper was a handwritten account on Pirozhki, Yurio's preferences and even a set of instructions on how to make it, labelled to Otabek.
And the handwriting was Viktor's.
Otabek had travelled over to the place Yuuri and Viktor were staying at just to get a handwritten recipe for Yurio's Pirozhki, and then spent hours trying to make it perfect.
Yurio choked back a sob as he placed the note back on the desk, before turning and going back up to his room, this time concentrating less on being quiet.
All he could remember after that was collapsing on his bed and crying.

Yurio opened his eyes to see Otabek, having just spoken his name loud enough to awaken him.
"Morning" the teen groaned.
He let his brain catch up with last night's events and he yawned, lack of sleep catching up to him.
"Was the Pirozhki good?" Otabek asked so quietly Yurio could barely smile.
Yurio met his eyes, retaliating with an emotionless face.
"Yes." He said simply.
"How would you know?"
"What?"
"I said how would you know. After all, you did throw it in the bin."
Yurio continued to stare at Otabek, this time his eyes showing confusion and a slight hint of fear.
"What?"
At that Otabek simply turned and left the room.
Yurio scrambled out of bed, ignoring his stomach whining for food and rushed downstairs.
He fell asleep in his clothes and honestly couldn't be bothered to change into any of Otabek's clothes, one of the reasons being they didn't fit him. Especially now.
He jumped the last step and walked into the kitchen. Otabek was just staring at the wall.
Yurio made to walk away when a hand caught his wrist.
He was spun around and felt cold lips against his own, and it took a few seconds to register that Otabek was investigating Yurio's mouth with his tongue before he pulled away from Otabek's loosened grip and ran straight out the door.
Yurio swore he heard Otabek calling his name.

So... Thoughts? Good? Bad? I prefer to rely on others opinions as mine are self-biased. That being just part of it.
Hehe. Anyways, seriously thank you so much for the support! It really does mean a lot.

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