Chapter Text
"Daddy?"
Otabek hums in response. It never takes long for Katya to tire of the games on his cell phone. She'd downloaded all sorts of games into it, from truck races to princess dressing. Otabek had read one chapter and a half of his book though. That was good enough when next to his three-year old daughter.
"I want ice cream," Katya says, stretching her small legs to reach the edge of the seat next to him. Otabek's phone drops to the floor with a loud sound. "Oops," she makes, staring at him wide-eyed before bending to get it.
Otabek resigns himself to maybe dealing with a cracked screen but in reality it's still intact when Katya hands it back to him. "Daddy?" she asks again.
"Katya, you've had ice cream before," Otabek shuts his book.
"But I want chocolate," Katya pouts, slapping his knees. Otabek sighs and looks around. The airport is flooded with people. He'd asked Katya if she was hungry only two minutes ago. And she'd said no. Whatever. Otabek could use something to eat as well, and maybe a newspaper.
"Okay, let's go," he gets up and Katya follows excitedly, taking his hand. He's carrying his own backpack and her Winnie the Pooh bag, which is probably a funny sight for a man his age and height but there were many sacrifices Otabek was willing to make for his daughter.
He'd missed Katya a hell of a lot. Yuri too, but Yuri was in New York for a fashion event of Lilia's and Katya had stayed with Nikolai in Moscow while Otabek finished his tour. Otabek had insisted she should stay with his family back in Almaty, Damira had too, tiresomely, but Yuri wasn't having it. Otabek can't even blame him fully. Nikolai's health was declining with age and he'd always had a soft spot for his greatgranddaughter. Otabek didn't have the heart to stop him from spending more time with her.
They spend five minutes in line to get Otabek a sandwich and Katya a hot chocolate. She'd whined, but Otabek had steadfastly refused to get her an ice cream. Nikolai had surely spoiled her rotten during her stay with him and Katya always used any time she spent with Otabek to make him get her stuff Yuri wouldn't let her have. She now pouts up at him to show her indignation and Otabek can feel other people staring.
People are always so nosy when it came to children. Otabek used to wave it away when Yuri told him that, the sheer amount of advices they unnecessarily paid Yuri when he was pregnant was a little bit frightening but Otabek always thought they were trying to be nice. Nowadays he thinks differently. If his daughter is already high on sugar and Otabek denies her an ice cream he suddenly becomes a terrible father to the eyes of the half a dozen people waiting in line for overpriced coffee.
As usual, Katya settles down after a while, seemingly forgotten Otabek had hurt her feelings and sipping her hot chocolate while turning her head from side to side as they walk.
"Look, daddy," she shrieks, pulling on his arm excitedly.
Otabek's pilot has informed him his jet is already waiting at the landing strip. Otabek gets their stuff and hums to Katya.
"It's mama," Katya says, and Otabek looks up.
Yuri's face is indeed plastered to a giant window shop of a big makeup brand he'd signed with months ago, his eyes perfectly lined and staring down at them as though he can see them. That's what's always irresistible about Yuri, in Otabek's opinion. His eyes are striking. He was a terrific model in all aspects of the business but the eyes were remarkable. Otabek's heart actually tugs. "Yes, it's mama," he smiles.
-
In reality Otabek's tour hadn't been big, he'd only done Oceania and East Asia before stopping by at Moscow for a small, private gig and picking Katya up. That doesn't mean he isn't tired though. He'd done longer tours before but it always pained him to leave Katya and Yuri for too long. He and his agent had prefered to break it out in short pieces to allow him time in between with Yuri and their daughter in Almaty. But Yuri traveled as much as him nowadays. When Katya didn't stay in with her grandparents she went along with one of them, usually Yuri because Otabek couldn't take her to international festivals. It wasn't what he'd always dreamed of. In some way, they never settled down. But Otabek loved his career and knew he'd eventually have to take some time to go places if he wanted to keep it up.
Katya doesn't seem to mind. She gets terribly tired afterwards but she gets to meet new people and do new things she hadn't before. Like now, in Otabek's jet, she sits on his lap and tries to learn how he composes, carefully pressing the keys to his keyboard and watching in amazement as a beat resounds. In some way it's just like any other game and after some time she tires of it, jumping off his lap and taking the seat next to his.
"Aren't you tired, baby?" Otabek asks, eyes fixed on his screen. He pushes his reading glasses up his nose and glances at Katya, who has folded her legs up into the seat and is staring out the window. Katya shakes her head.
"Daddy," she calls suddenly.
"Yes?"
"Can we have kitten?"
Otabek grins. Yuri's cat, though now old, was Katya and Nikolai's sweetheart. Otabek had never been avert to cats exactly. But he'd tried to avoid getting one while Yuri was pregnant and then Katya was born and it seemed they already had too much to deal with. But Yuri loves cats. Maybe it was time he got him one.
"We'll see."
Katya gasps, surprised he didn't deny it. "Really, really, really? I want it white, but mama chooses. Daddy," she whines suddenly, laying her head on Otabek's shoulder and her short arms around his neck, "I miss mama!" she kicks her seat.
"Katya," Otabek puts his things away, "I miss mama too but we'll see mama when we get home."
"When?"
It was a four hour flight. Usually his pilot could shorten it to three and a half if Otabek asked him to, but despite having told Katya Yuri would already be home in reality Yuri would probably arrive at night when they would be there at noon. Katya will flop down on her bed as soon as they get there, but Otabek doesn't want to let her down. She gets truly impatient during flights. They're already two hours in and she's fidgeting.
"In a little while, baby."
Katya purses her lips and twists her nose, the mirror image of Yuri when he doesn't get his way. When a baby she looked a whole lot like Otabek, but now her face features remind him of Yuri more than anything. Her hair is dark like his, though not completely black, but dark brown and falling all the way down to her waist in fuzzy waves. He and Yuri have the hardest time combing it down but Katya insists she likes it long - her mother's influence, of course. The shape of her face though is all Yuri's, thin and delicate like her nose, perky and small. Her eyes on the other hand, are Otabek's, down to the shape and color, matching the same contour of his lips, mirrored into hers in feminine undertones.
"Stop," Katya bats his cheek away when Otabek spends too much time staring at her. That is one of her favorite words.
"Oh, now I can't look at you, princess Katya?" Otabek teases, holding her back as she tries to push him away. She giggles, staring at him with her small-teethed smile. "Why is that, hn?" Otabek grabs her by the waist and proceeds to tickle her tummy. Katya shrieks and kicks her short legs.
"Stop," she's saying in between bursts of laughter, "Stop, daddy."
Otabek lets her go after a minute. She'd once peed when he insisted too much, right on his and Yuri's mattress in Almaty. Yuri had given him a severe reprimand while Katya laughed in delight in the background.
Otabek goes back to his computer until Katya stretches her leg right over his keyboard. "Daddy," she calls again. That's one of the reasons Otabek used his private jet for this stuff. It was way better for touring, of course, no one used comercial flights for that. But Katya is a kid, she asks a lot of questions and still cries and whines and wants to run up and down the aisle, which people find annoying. Otabek can't even blame them. When he took comercial flights himself he prayed to Allah there would be no babies or children in it.
"What is it, Katya?" Otabek continues working.
"Can I have ice cream when we get home?"
-
"Oh, thank god!" his mother exclaims down the phone line. Otabek was still taking his and Katya's baggage up the elevator when she called. Almaty is the same, slightly sunny but with gentle, cold breezes every once in a while. "And Yuri? Still working? What an insult, leaving my granddaughter in Moscow when I could've watched her myself here! She'll start school soon, she shouldn't have traveled that much."
Otabek does his best to not let her hear his sigh. "I missed you too, mom."
"Oh, darling," Damira coos. "Where's Katya? I want to talk to her."
Otabek hands his phone to Katya, who is blinking tiredly against the wall and fighting to stay upright. "Grandma," Otabek whispers, "do you want to speak with her?"
Katya nods and reaches for the phone. The elevator's door whoosh open and Otabek pulls their baggage out. Katya walks ahead and speaks to her grandmother in low tones while Otabek carries their stuff and searches for the keys.
The apartment looks the same, the air smells funny though, kept locked inside for too long. Otabek opens the windows first and foremost, watching out of the corner of his eye Katya slumping down the sofa. She hands him his phone when he passes, curling up into herself and already starting to doze off. Yuri would bite Otabek's head off if he knew he'd let her sleep on the sofa after coming back from the airport without bathing first. He was strict with those things.
"Hey, mom," Otabek answers.
"When is Yuri arriving? I want to speak with him," Damira says tightly into the phone.
Otabek sighs, and this time doesn't hide it. "Yuri is coming from New York. He'll get here at night."
"Did he tell you that?"
"Yes, mom. He talked to me before he boarded his plane." Damira hums. It's clear she's looking for something else to say.
"I'll be there tomorrow to see Katya. Or you could bring her here too, it wouldn't hurt me and your father to get a visit, you know. Aisha's been pestering me lately. She wants to take up ballet. Thanks to your husband, I believe. When did he come up with that? Ballet!"
"Right," Otabek takes his baggage to his room and Katya's bags to hers. It's the one in front of their bedroom, the walls covered in small, child-friendly animals wallpaper, her bed kept fluffy with colorful covers and stuffed animals.
After a few more minutes complaining about Yuri Damira hangs up. Otabek looks around lostly. Yuri's absence inside the apartment makes him feel strange, an alarm setting off in his mind in warning that something is wrong.
Otabek picks Katya up from the sofa, she moves and clings to his hand - she used to do that to his thumb when she was a baby but now that she's grown it got too small for her to hold onto. Otabek sets her on her bed, opening the windows to let the soft breeze in and tucking her in. She reaches for his face when Otabek lays a kiss to her forehead.
"I want mama," she whispers, eyes firmly shut.
"I want mama too, darling."
-
Katya wakes up for dinner, the sound of her small feet pattering around enough to alert Otabek in the living room, where he's lying on the couch reading with the news report in a low volume in front of him. Katya jumps right on his stomach, not caring that he doubles over and repproaches her.
"When is mama coming?" she asks with a pout.
Otabek recovers from the blow of his three-year old daughter landing on his belly and folds his reading glasses away. "He'll be home during the night. What do you want for dinner?"
Katya opens her mouth to protest, but she's easily dodged and takes the time to think about what she'd like to have. "Ice cream," she finally says.
Otabek stares at her for a minute. "No," he says, and lifts her off his lap to head to the kitchen.
"Daddy," Katya whines and runs after him. "I want ice cream. You promised."
"I didn't promise," Otabek really hadn't, "I said I would think about it."
Katya purses her lips and twists her nose, closing her hands in fists beside her. She gave a high-pitched whimper that always got to Otabek's nerves and stomped her feet before deciding the sight of him was too much and heading back to living room loudly.
Otabek lets her fume for a while, grabbing all the ingredients he would need for a soup. He used to be better at this but he didn't want to make anything complicated now. He was too tired and worn-out. He wasn't against asking for takeout in these situations but he didn't want to feed his small kid too much grease. Not on top of all the Yuri-disapproves things he'd already let her do.
Otabek checks his phone while it cooks but aside from a few emails from his agent there's nothing new. He separates some of the soup once it's ready and puts it in the blender for Katya. She isn't the biggest fan of vegetables though Yuri has been trying to make her mind up but as long as she doesn't see it she eats it without complaining. Otabek put the rest on a plate for him and takes it to the living room.
"Katya, dinner's ready," he announces, handing her the small plate he'd made her, the soup blended and homogeneous. She pouts and turns away from him. Otabek sighs and puts it on the table, taking the seat beside her on the sofa and not sparing on the olive oil for his soup. He eats calmly, watching the news and glancing at Katya, who has her arms crossed now and glares at him whenever she catches him looking. "Are you sure you're not eating it?" he asks.
Katya shakes her head.
"Pity," he shrugs, "I was gonna get you ice cream if you did."
Katya tenses, flicking her eyes to the soup. She eyes Otabek suspiciously and inches closer. Otabek pretends not to see it when she starts eating, pausedly, but eating all the same. She gives him these looks as if challenging him to say something but also filled with hope that he won't change his mind now. Otabek smiles.
-
They walk to the ice cream parlor a few blocks down the apartment. Katya talks to him all the way, asking why they have to buy ice cream and not make it at home. The ice cream vendor already knows them and smiles when they open the door.
"You're back?" she beams at Otabek. Yuri hates coming here, he insists she hits on Otabek. Last time they'd been here he'd crossed his arms and stared her down all the while Otabek made their purchase. The girl hadn't seemed to mind though. "I saw you on TV. You were in Australia, right?" she continues. Otabek smiles politely and nods. Even though Yuri isn't here Otabek can feel the burn of his disapproving gaze on his neck, can imagine the tilt of his head and the rising eyebrow he always pays Otabek whenever he thinks someone that is hitting on him directs him a question. "How are doing, sweetie?" she asks Katya over the counter.
"Good," Katya responds happily.
"I see. So, two chocolates?"
-
They sit at the plastic chairs inside, Katya's face smeared with chocolate cream, her eyes focused on the ice cream as she devours it. Otabek eats his with a small green spoon, lapidating it into a square tower at the center. Yuri goes absolutely ballistic when he does that, often burying his own spoon into Otabek's ice cream to destroy it. He then calls him a whiny pussy afterwards though never in Katya's presence.
"Daddy," Katya speaks up, "when will we get the kitten?"
"Soon," Otabek brushes her away.
Katya squints at him suspiciously. "Can we have two? One for me and one for mama?"
Otabek eyes the bottom of his plastic cup. "Don't you want a fish? Fishes are nice. I had one when I was a kid."
Katya considers it, munching on her plastic pink spoon until Otabek tells her not to do that. She scoops more ice cream and shoves it into her mouth and then realizes Otabek has been meaning to trap her. "No," she exclaims. Some patrons look their way, "I want a cat. You promised."
Otabek grins. "I didn't promise. I said we would see."
Katya looks as though she's about to start wailing, so Otabek quickly appeases her. "Okay, okay. Wait until your mother comes back and ask him." Katya still looks unsure, but her ice cream starts to melt and she finishes it off, spilling some of the chocolate liquid into her yellow elephant shirt and on her pants. It sticks to her cheeks and also a bit on her hair. She looks like a mess.
Otabek can't stop laughing. Katya giggles and licks her fingers off, beaming excitedly when Otabek snaps a picture of her and sends it to Yuri. He knows he's in for having his dick cut but he can't away the fun of it. Katya had had ice cream, which Yuri doesn't approve of, stained her clothes, which Yuri hates, Otabek hadn't combed her hair, which Yuri always gives him shit for and they'd gone to the parlor with the vendor that hits on Otabek. Priceless.
In the end Otabek has to gather up as many napkins from the dispenser as it is polite to clean Katya off. The vendor girl steps up to give him more and Otabek thanks her, kneeling next to Katya to dab at her pants.
"You're a really great father," she tells him, eyes sparkling. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a thing for him. Otabek noticed women and some male omegas looked at him differently when he was with Katya. It was biological probably, he took good care of his children and that was attractive in some level. He nods shyly in response and thanks her before leaving.
Otabek carries Katya all the way back to the apartment. She'd slept through most of the afternoon but is still tired. Her hair spills over Otabek's shoulder and she leans her sugar-sticky cheek to the collar of his shirt.
He helps her bathe and washes her hair. It's full of knots that he has to comb away before blow drying it. Katya's head nods as she valiantly tries to keep awake. She smells like cotton candy by the time he's done, the same fragrance of her shampoo and the lotion Yuri had brought her from Paris. Otabek dresses her in her giraffe pajamas and she snuggles up into her pillow.
"When will mama get here?" she asks sleepily.
Otabek doesn't have to answer her. She's already fallen asleep.
-
Otabek isn't a light sleeper. But when he hears sounds coming from the apartment he wakes up. Maybe it's instinct. He's alone with his daughter so there shouldn't be any other noises when they're both sleeping. But there's a soft thumping coming from far away, and then a hissed out curse. "Fuck," followed by a louder thump.
Yuri.
Otabek gets up in his sweatpants. He blinks to clear his eyes of the sleepy fog and heads to the source of sound. The living room is completely dark, but Otabek can make out a silhouette. "Yura?" he asks, scratching at his hip.
"Shit, Beka, sorry," Yuri switches on the tablelamp. He looks tired, his face pale and clean of any makeup, hair up in a careless bun. He's wearing a dark, big trenchcoat that he swims inside. He's leaning against the sofa's armrest, having difficulty to toe off his high-heeled boots.
"Hey," Otabek leans to kiss him. Yuri pulls on his boot and sighs victoriously when it drops to the floor.
"Shit, Katya," he says, looking widely around. "Is she asleep?"
Otabek nods. "How are you?"
"Tired as fuck," Yuri responds, bypassing him to head into the hallway in his stockinged feet. He pads into Katya's bedroom on light feet, inching closer to her bed to sit at the edge. Yuri finds the top of her head tucked out of the duvet and kisses the crown of dark hair.
"Mama," Katya mumbles, moving sluggishly to twine her arms around Yuri's neck, "mama," she says, louder this time.
"Yes, darling, mama's here," Yuri hugs her in the dark, "Okay? Go back to sleep."
Katya makes a noise in the back of her throat and clings to him. Yuri chuckles, hugging her tighter and leaving kisses on her cheek. She slumps over Yuri sleepily, and Otabek goes over to extract her from him. She mumbles and lays back down, closing a fist next to her face on the pillow.
"Will you shower?" Otabek asks, following Yuri back to the living room. He's feeling ignored. He knows Yuri is tired but they could've embraced for more than a second. Yuri nods and looks at him over his shoulder before heading down the hallway. "Can I go with you?" Otabek follows his heels. He's pushing his luck but they don't have to do anything. He's missed Yuri terribly and just wants him to stand still for a while so he can press him to chest.
"No," Yuri says crisply. Otabek is about to ask if he'd done anything wrong. Did he see Katya's picture? Was he cross with Otabek because of that? "Beka, I need a minute," Yuri sighs, curling a strand of hair behind his ear. He doesn't stare Otabek in the eyes. "Will you wait for me at the living room? We need to talk."
Otabek scratches the back of his head. He isn't scared. He is not. Yuri sometimes isn't full of love to give, even more so when he's tired from long flights and a long time away from his family. This is new though. Otabek shrugs, "Fine."
He sits at the sofa and waits. He can hear the sound of their bathroom shower and imagines Yuri's thin, pale silhouette behind the glass doors. Yuri's baggages are still standing at the hall and Otabek makes himself useful by taking them to the closet for Yuri to sort out later. Coming back from trips means lots of clothes to wash and Otabek whines at the thought of it. They should hire someone to do that. Otabek helps out as much as he can, Yuri does too but house chores are a pain in the ass, even more so with Katya in her age of leaving everything around carelessly. Otabek's lost count of the times he's had the sole of his feet absolutely perfurated by Lego toys.
The lampshade sheds a golden light over the living room and Otabek goes back to the sofa and rewinds everything he's done in the last months. He'd kept in constant contact with Yuri and Nikolai, who was now better at Skyping than Otabek himself. They'd done what they always did: filled each other up on important facts going around them and sometimes sending love messages. Otabek did it all the time. Yuri did it sparsely but that's what made them so meaningful. Was he sick of Otabek's romance? He'd have said something earlier if that was the case.
They had phone sex too, maybe twice. For two months that was a low number though, but Yuri kept the flow of nudes constant and Otabek wasn't far behind even if he was way less comfortable with it. Was it his mother? Katya? Nikolai?
The sound of the shower dies down and Otabek pulls one leg up onto the sofa. He feels like he's about to receive grades for an exam. He turns his wedding ring around his finger and bites at the inside of his bottom lip.
Yuri walks into the living in his long, golden robe. Otabek had forgotten he even owned that. He only ever used it during his gestation with Katya because according to him it was large and hid the way he waddled. His hair hangs around his frame, the tips wet with his shower. Yuri pulls it into a low ponytail as soon as he turns to take the seat beside Otabek.
He rakes his eyes over Otabek and huffs amusedly. "You look as though you'll have a fucking heart attack," Yuri tells him. Yuri smells divine, like some exotic fruit, the fragance swimming around him, clinging to his soft, pale skin.
Otabek shrugs. "I get nervous around you," he teases, going with the more passive flow.
Yuri hums suspiciously. "Yeah? Or have you done something wrong and is afraid I've caught you?" Otabek balks without meaning to. He can't have done anything, unless he's missing something very important. But Yuri laughs, which means he must've pulled a face. "Relax. But I did see Katya's photo. You went to that piece of crap ice cream shop again, didn't you? What did that little twink say? I bet she creamed her panties at the sight of you."
"She asked for my number," Otabek lies. Yuri thinks he's got himself too much of an upperhand.
Yuri's smile falls off. He turns his head around in some spine-creeping fashion to stare at Otabek. "What the fuck?"
Otabek laughs before he can hold the lie for any longer. Yuri hits him with a pillow and calls him a fucktard. Otabek had missed this so much. He creeps his hand into Yuri's waist to pull him closer but Yuri actually grabs him by the wrist to stop him. "So," he says, shoving Otabek's hand away. "The thing I wanted to talk about."
Yuri's seldom done this before. When he's pissed off he avoids Otabek's touch and kicks him in the balls. But Otabek's now lost whatever apprehension he'd had before. Yuri wouldn't have teased him if he was about to scold him for something.
Yuri stares at his lap, a tinge of pink high on his cheeks.
"Is it bad news?" Otabek asks carefully.
Yuri frowns lightly, gaze faraway even though he keeps it firm on his lap. "No. It's a surprise."
Otabek patiently waits for Yuri to elaborate.
"Like," Yuri says, "I was gonna tell you when you were touring. But I think your romance has brushed off on me," Yuri smirks, reaching for both of Otabek's hands and guiding them to his waist. Otabek's eyes shift on his face.Yuri's waist feels normal, but Yuri guides his hands down, to the gentle curve of his lower belly. "Beka, I'm pregnant."
"You've gotta be-" Otabek chuckles. This is for real. "Oh, Yura," he breaks out laughing, pulling Yuri up to his chest. "Yura, my Yura," he can't stop saying, the warmth of Yuri's body, the smell of him seeping into Otabek's every pore. He'd felt like this when Yuri had told him about Katya too, but he'd forgotten how wonderful it could be. He feels on top of the world.
"Are you happy?" Yuri asks, stretching his neck for Otabek to nuzzle his bite mark. He snorts as soons as he's said that though. "Of course you're. You're like a baby-loving sap," Yuri continues, but his smile is as big as Otabek's.
Otabek leans to kiss him, setting his hair free in the process, cupping the back of Yuri's head in one of his broad hands to guide the angle. He will never be able to describe this, even as a thousand melodies swim around his head, set off by the powerful feeling of knowing they'll have another baby. He and Yuri. Another wailing baby to wake them up at night and use thousands upon thousands of diapers. Another small person to keep Katya company and fill Otabek's heart with love.
"How long?" Otabek asks in between kisses. Yuri has moved to his lap, his hair cascading around them. Otabek knows how long ago Yuri's heat had been. They'd spent it together before going their separate ways. He thought Yuri was on his birth control though. They did it without a condom because Yuri usually took precautions. He had been planning this all along. A surprise. He knew of Otabek's utmost desire for more children.
"Two months," Yuri replies hastily, tipping his chin down when Otabek catches him in an open-mouthed kiss. "Lilia found out before-ah," Otabek sucks down the length of his throat, combing insistent hair strands away, "before me," Yuri finishes.
"Let me see, Yura, come on," Otabek's hands scurry down the fine fabric of Yuri's robe, unknotting the front of it to let his hands span over the bare skin of Yuri's swollen belly. "Holy shit," he looks down. It's not all that big yet. But if Yuri wore any of his skin-tight undershirt again it would be visible. "You said two months? You sure they're not twins?"
Yuri pauses. "Oh, fuck off, Otabek. If they're twins I'm giving your mother one- hey, hold your horses," Yuri pulls the collar of his robe back where Otabek had pushed it down to lap at his shoulder. Otabek smirks predatorily up at him, bucking his hips up once to let Yuri feel the erection he already sported inside his sweatpants.
"Yeah?" Otabek asks languidly, and rolls his hips up against Yuri's backside.
"It's been literally less than fifty minutes since I came back," Yuri tries to formulate something else to say, but he remembers he's naked underneath his robe, which Otabek takes advantage of to knead at his bare ass.
"Don't you know it already? You pregnant sets me off like a teenager," Otabek mumbles against the skin of his collarbone, sliding his swollen lips down all the way to Yuri's chest, where he circles one nipple with his tongue before pulling at it with his teeth. Yuri's back arches up, digging his knees further into the cushions where he's straddling Otabek. His dick twitches insistently, already glistening at the head and brushing the firm skin of Otabek's stomach. "And these," Otabek says, nipping at the small but already sensitive swell of Yuri's breasts. "Ah, how I missed them," he opens his mouth around one and sucks harshly. Yuri's hole clenches.
Yuri hastens to shrug his robe all the way off, the thin fabric sliding to Otabek's knees before pooling on the floor. He's still not overly aware of his body but it's mostly due to the early stage of his pregnancy. Yuri feels as though there's a vault that he has to keep protected at all costs laying at the bottom of his belly. Or as though he'd swallowed a watermelon that still hadn't gone down to put it simply. But now he just feels sexy. Because Otabek gets so turned on with it.
Otabek's fingers are skimming his rim perfunctorily, a thumb occasionally sliding past to rip a strangled moan out of Yuri. Katya is sleeping a few doors down the hallway and Yuri tries to tone it down, shushing Otabek and sliding his sweatpants down to pump his thick erection. Otabek throws his head back and bites his bottom lip, watching with half-lidded eyes as Yuri's slender fingers work him.
"Missionary, doggy, what do you want?" Otabek asks, earning a slap to the shoulder from Yuri for not using a lower tone of voice. "Wanna ride me?" he asks lower.
Yuri frowns down at his dick, licking his lips before lying back down on the sofa. Otabek catches on immediately, covering Yuri's body with his and kissing him. Yuri stretches his legs open, scratching down Otabek's back with his manicured nails.
"Lube?" Otabek asks in between gasps, his fingers going to town in Yuri's hole.
"Fuck, I don't know," Yuri swings his head around. The armrest digs between his neck and shoulders. "Aren't you wet enough?" Yuri looks down at Otabek's dick, red and angry from waiting too long. Precome slides down the tip and gathers at the top of Yuri's swollen belly. The sight shouldn't turn him on, but it does. "I'll suck you or something," he offers.
"Really?" Otabek pauses to look at him.
"Your fingers, you asshole," Yuri elaborates. Otabek begins pulling his fingers out of Yuri's ass and Yuri clenches to trap them in. "Not those," he tips his head towards Otabek's other hand, lying over his stomach.
It's uncomfortable to do this with spit but they've already slid all the way down to Sin Land and Yuri isn't getting up for anything in this world. Otabek enters him in one smooth, deep thrust, pulling his forearm down for Yuri to bite on to muffle their sounds.
The sofa rattles with them, hitting the wall and the small table along with Otabek's steady rhythm. Yuri preens, tightening his legs around his husband's waist and pulling him down by the neck for a kiss.
"Come on," Yuri urges as soon as they part, "give it to me, come on, Beka." Otabek must find it very hot because he gives a particular hard thrust that has Yuri almost coming on the spot. The movement almost knocks the lampshade off but Otabek has fast enough reflexes to hold it upright in the right moment. As though fucking on the sofa isn't enough waking up their daughter could prove to be fatal to Yuri's nerves.
Otabek hisses. "Shit, that was close."
Yuri bats him away. "We can't hold this position," he kneels on the floor, supporting the base of his swollen belly on the sofa, "behind me, come on."
Otabek promptly kneels behind him, mouthing at the nape of his neck and sinking his teeth right when he pushes back inside. "Slow, slow?" he asks Yuri in a fervor, "Slow and good? Like this?" he gives a smooth fuck in, the kind that repeatedly has Yuri crying rivers with how good it feels.
"Gods, yes," Yuri clings to his own hair, gritting his teeth when Otabek builds a rhythm again. "Don't stop, fuck, Beka, don't, like this, deeper, yes," Yuri's toes curl on the floor.
Otabek's hand spans the small swell of his belly, the other moving to tug at Yuri's cock. Yuri manages to bite his finger to muffle his cry, but his eyes still tear up at the corners when Otabek lodges the head of his dick right there in quick succession.
Yuri finishes and forces his body back to not get any of his come on the sofa. Otabek hums in satisfaction, biting on Yuri's earlobe and just generally making Yuri tingle in oversensitivity. "Good?" he asks huskily next to his ear. Yuri slumps back against him and nods.
Otabek regains his rhythm, only now every time he thrusts in he whispers in Yuri's ear. You'll be a good mom for my babies, won't you?, Yura, you feel so good, so tight, will you make them healthy?, I want two, give me two. Otabek finishes inside him, his whole body shruddering, plastering himself to Yuri's back.
They gasp and try to gain their breath back. The room falls earily silent around them. When Otabek pulls out Yuri can already feel his come starting to leak down. He gathers himself up and uses his discarded robe to clean the mess on his chest and dab at his inner thighs. Otabek pinches his asscheek on the way back to their bedroom and Yuri swats at his chest playfully. "Watch it, fucker. I'm carrying your baby here."