*Just a short ficlet that popped in my head the other day. Something funny and realistic. Aged up Yuri and Otabek living together. Otabek hates Yuri's feet.

Otabek got home around 4. Long enough to head to the store for dinner supplies, tidy up the house, and shower. Usually Yuri would have gone home with him, but this was a late practice night. Otabek sighed heavily, dropping the grocery bags on the counter. He hated late practice night. It didn't happen often, but when it did it was never for a good reason. It was usually Yakov's sadistic way of punishing students for slacking off, or being mouthy. Yuri naturally received this punishment at least twice a month.

Yuri had been pissy that day, more so than usual. It seemed like everything set him off. No matter what anyone did, he took issue with it. He had even shouted at Victor for breathing too loud. Which led Victor to laugh, and breath even louder on purpose. Infuriating Yuri further.

Otabek had just sat down for a break, and listened to Yuri bicker and gripe at everything, and everyone. He often wondered if Yuri had some sort of cycle. He himself, had two sisters, he was well aware of how female moods would ebb, and flow throughout the month. Yuri was much the same.

He smirked, maybe he'd slip a Midol into Yuri's water bottle sometime, see if it had any effect. He made a mental note to purchase some next time he was at the drugstore. Even if it didn't change his mood, it would be a funny story to tell Yuri (and everyone else) at a later date. Otabek was no saint, as much as he adored Yuri, he loved to wind him up. Yuri was easy to rile, but with Otabek it was always short lived.

Otabek heard Yakov blustering loudly. He was at his limit concerning Yuri's shitty attitude, "Yuri, you're staying late tonight, maybe it will teach you to shut your trap once in awhile and focus on why you're here!"

Yuri's face scrunched into a look that could freeze lava, he opened his mouth, ready to bitch, but caught Yakov's glare. His jaw snapped shut.

Guess I'm going home alone tonight. Otabek thought to himself.

That was a few hours ago, Otabek was starting to unpack the groceries, and set the oven to preheat. Yuri would be even crankier when he got home. He'd be hungry for dinner, a shower, and anything else his overly dramatic brain could think of. Otabek suddenly dropped the loaf of bread he was putting away, it fell to the floor with a smack.

Oh crap, he's gonna want one tonight...he's gonna want a foot rub.

Otabek groaned. He loved Yuri deeply, he'd do anything for him, and had proven it time, and time again. He'd stuck by Yuri through their long distance relationship, eventually getting so tired of it that he moved to St. Petersbourg. He and Yuri had moved in together shortly after that. He'd left his family, his friends, his coach, and never regretted the decision. He'd do anything for him but.

Touching Yuri's feet? Putting his hands on those bony, misshapen, cracked monstrosities at the ends of Yuri's legs? Even Otabek had his limits.

He didn't hate feet, not at all. In previous relationships he had gladly given foot rubs. He enjoyed massaging sore muscles, working out tense knots until they melted away under his touch. He had been told by several friends, that he had a knack for it. Otabek was even toying with the idea of going into something therapy related after he retired from skating. It could be a decent career, it seemed like everyone had some kind of stress these days.

No, feet in general were not a problem, just Yuri's.

It's not like his own feet were anything to write home about. They were just as beaten, and battered as any other skaters. However, he was meticulous about taking care of them. He'd soak them in Epsom, cushion the blisters, bandage the cuts. He'd rub cream on his heels, and kept his nails trimmed, and clean. He'd occasionally get a pedicure, which Yuri taunted him mercilessly about. Otabek took care of his feet, and he wasn't ashamed of it.

Yuri was different. He took a sick satisfaction over the state of his feet. Wore his cuts, and bruises as a badge of honor, proof of how hard he had worked. He'd poke at blisters, and pick scabs. More than one of his toes had been broken over the years, leaving them in slightly odd angles. His heels though, sandpaper had nothing on Yuri's heels. In bed, his rough, cracked skin would snag on the blankets. Yuri paid it no mind, but listening to them scratch, and catch on the soft sheets gave Otabek the willies. More than once Otabek had pleaded with Yuri to get a pedicure with him, but Yuri stoutly refused.

Otabek had just finished putting dinner in the oven when another horrifying thought crossed his mind.

He'll want me to do the thing...

Otabek shook his head. No, he'd refuse, there's no way he was doing that. His day had been just as hard as Yuri's. Worlds was just a few weeks away, their stress levels were both dangerously high. Maybe Yuri would be merciful, and excuse him from the thing.

Before he could think any more about it, he heard the front door unlock.

"Hi Yura." Otabek called from the kitchen, trying to mask his the uneasiness in his voice.

"Nnnghh," Yuri groaned as he dropped his stuff and kicked his shoes off, "Yakov can go straight to hell." he spat.

"Hungry? Dinner will be ready in a few."

"Shower first, food later."

Otabek set plates out, as he heard the shower turn on.

Maybe he'll be too tired, maybe he won't want to.

Oh if only...

After dinner they were on the couch. Yuri in his sweats, hair still slightly damp from the shower and tucked up into a messy bun. Otabek noticed Yuri's feet were bare.

That's not a good sign...

Yuri usually wore socks around the house, thick, cushy socks in wild prints. Encasing them in plush, expensive socks was just about the only nice thing he did for his poor feet. The fact that he was sock less, did not bode well.

Otabek had settled on one end of the couch, reading a book, feet propped on the ottoman in front of him. Yuri laid on the opposite end, knees bent, playing on his phone. All was quiet for awhile, until.

Yuri stretched his legs, his gnarly feet coming in contact with Otabek's leg.

Otabek cleared his throat, and continued to read, paying no attention to him.

Yuri played with the fabric of Otabek's sweatpants with his toes, tugging at it. Otabek shifted away slightly.

"Beka..." Yuri said with a small whine at the end.

"Hmmm?"

Yuri began to inch his toe towards the book he was reading, nudging it.

"I want you..."

Please let it be anything else, a blowjob, a fuck, another helping of dinner, a dozen cats anything other than...

"to rub my feet."

Damn.

Otabek set his book down, lazily running his hand up and down Yuri's leg suggestively.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do anything else? I could suck you off if you want."

Distract him with sex, maybe he'll forget.

"Too tired for that, I just want to relax, my feet are killing me. Yakov just about broke me tonight."

"What about a movie? I could scratch your head while you watch."

"Sounds nice, but my feet are just so sore."

Otabek sighed, usually promises of sex, or a good head scratching were enough to distract Yuri. Tonight it all fell on deaf ears. He resigned himself to his fate.

He ran a hand through his black hair, "Okay."

Yuri smiled greedily, happy that he was getting what he wanted, and slid his feet into Otabek's lap.

Otabek began rubbing the arch of Yuri's left foot. Yuri let out a pleasant groan. He worked the tired muscles, kneading the balls of his feet with gentle pressure. He scratched the top of his foot lightly, and worked at his ankle. All the while trying to avoid the minefield of blisters and bruises.

He worked his way down to the heel, it was like running his palm over rough concrete, hard and scratchy. He fought the chill that ran down his back as his skin brushed over a deep crack. He squeezed hard on his heel, and Yuri let out a sigh of relief.

"Ahhhh," Yuri purred, relaxing into the couch.

Otabek rubbed each bony toe. They were long, and slender and would have been elegant looking if they had been taken care of.

"Beka," Yuri moaned quietly, "feels so good..."

To anyone listening, the groans and sighs falling off Yuri's tongue would have sounded like he was in the throws of sex. Yuri was always vocal while being pleasured, whether it be fucking, or a foot rub.

Otabek gave his foot another once over before setting it back in his lap.

Alright one down, one to go.

He started the process again on the other foot. Yuri's right foot was worse than his left, it was his dominant foot, and therefor took far more punishment.

Yuri's second, and third toes had broken a few years ago during an intense ballet practice. They had healed rather quickly, but in the process both had turned ever so slightly in opposite directions. As if the toes had, had an argument and refused to speak to each other. He grimaced while he rubbed each one, individually.

"Beka, your hands are magical" Yuri breathed, he was was in heaven, eyes closed, a smile on his lips.

Otabek trailed down to squeeze his heel. Yuri groaned again.

He would normally feel proud of how relaxed he could make Yuri feel. Savoring the moans and breathy praise, but instead he was just trying to get through it as quickly as possible.

He was coming to the end, he took almost every one of Yuri's toes between his fingers to give them each a rub.

"Better?" Otabek crooned, hopeful that the answer would be yes.

Yuri's face faded into a small pout, his eyes cracked open in disappointment.

"You forgot one." he mumbled. Wiggling his toes in Otabek's face. He swatted Yuri's foot before it got too close.

"No I didn't, I did everything the same on both feet."

"Liar, you missed one." he trailed off, "come on Beka, do the thing."

The thing...

"Yura," he started to protest, but Yuri cut him off.

"But I need it, " he pouted, "please? Pretty please, Beka?"

That face...that sweet, pleading look Yuri had on. His green eyes big and round like a tiny, begging kitten. He was certain Yuri could conquer the world with just that look alone. Otabek tried to be strong, but then he noticed Yuri's bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

That was Otabek's undoing.

"Fine." he growled, not angrily though.

Yuri again laid his right foot on Otabek's lap. Gently stretching his toes apart.

There it was; the bane of his existence. The little piggy that went wee, wee, wee all the way home.

Yuri's baby toe on his right foot was the worst offender of them all. It had also been broken long ago, when Yuri was still a child. He had fallen down the stairs, his pinky toe taking the brunt of it. It jutted slightly away from the other toes, and would have been more akin to a claw... if it had any nail to speak of.

That was a night Otabek would never forget. For as graceful as Yuri was on the ice, he was careless and klutzy at home.

It had been ages since the mishap that led to the little piggy's demise. They had both been sitting on the couch one evening. Otabek idly flipping channels, Yuri busily giving his skates a once over, and putting new laces on them. He, like many skaters were particular about how their skates were laced, and it took him awhile to get them just right. It was getting late, and he was so tired. He set both skates down on the floor next to the couch.

"Put the guards on those, and put them back in your bag, Yura." Otabek reminded him, still channel surfing.

"I will in a minute." he huffed, rubbing his temples, eager for sleep.

They had gone to bed awhile later, the skates long forgotten.

Otabek was usually a sound sleeper, which was an understatement. There were many mornings he would wake up on the couch, not because of a fight, but because Yuri had tried to wake him and couldn't. That night was different, Otabek was out of bed in a shot when he heard the unholy yowl coming from the living room.

"Yura? What's wrong? Are you okay?" he called out, rushing down the dark hall towards him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk..." was the only reply.

Otabek flipped the light switch and found Yuri in nothing but his boxers on the floor. His hands encircling his right foot, eyes squeezed tight against the pain. The skates nearby with just a hint of blood on them.

"What the hell did you do Yura?" Otabek crouched down beside him, trying to unlace Yuri's fingers from around his foot.

"I was getting a glass of water, and I tripped over my goddamn skates. I snagged my little toe on the blade. Jesus, fuck it hurts." he hissed.

After a few more colorful curses, Otabek was able to survey the damage. The nail was gone, sheared off by the blade of his skate.

Otabek resisted the urge to tell Yuri that he should have put his skates away, no sense in adding insult to injury.

Underneath his toe there was an impressive slice, but nothing that couldn't be taken care of at home.

Yuri still seethed with pain. He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at the damage. Poor Yuri was certain he had sliced his toe clean off. If he opened his eyes and saw his baby toe lying on the carpet he was positive he'd pass out.

"I've got good news, and bad news Yura." Otabek said, still looking it over.

"Christ Beka, fuck the drama just tell me is my toe still there?" he snapped.

"Your toe is still there, you lost the nail though, and you've got a pretty good cut, doubt you'll need stitches though. I think you'll pull through." He bent to give Yuri a kiss on his forehead.

Relieved, but still in pain Yuri cracked one eye, and then the other. It was ugly, the nail was definitely MIA, but it wasn't as bad as he imagined.

Otabek cleaned his toe, and helped him back to bed. It didn't take long for the cut to heal, Yuri was quick to heal when he didn't pick at things. The gash left just a ghost of a scar. However, the nail never did grow back. So Yuri was left with a pink, nail free, nub. Which grossed Otabek out to no end, but he never divulged that to Yuri.

Otabek was lost in the memory until he felt Yuri nudge him with his foot.

"Beka please..." Yuri whimpered.

Otabek huffed quietly, "Alright, alright."

Bracing himself, Otabek took the tiny, toe like appendage (it wasn't a toe anymore, he was certain of that) and rolled it between his fingers and thumb. He squeezed, kneaded and worked at the nub until loosened a bit. After a few more minutes, he grit his teeth and gave the nub a pull until the joint made a loud popping noise, followed by a few more quieter cracks. That was what Yuri had been waiting for, the thing. He reveled in the sensation, the pressure on his sore digit finally released.

"Beka, so amazing..." Yuri sighed, giving him a drowsy smile.

He continued rubbing for a few more seconds longer, until he was sure Yuri was satisfied.

"Good?"

"So good..." Yuri answered sleepily, it wouldn't be long before Yuri passed out. Foot rubs, and sex always ended with Yuri sleeping soundly soon after.

Otabek untangled himself and stood up. He grabbed the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and covered Yuri, tucking him in. He walked quietly, and calmly into the bathroom, locked the door, and proceeded to freak the fuck out. Cringing and shuddering, rubbing his hands across his arms as if someone had just tipped a box of live spiders over his head. Normally his granite like persona was unbreakable, but it had crumbled into to dust, all over a single, albeit gross, pinky toe.

Once he had fully rid himself of his heebie geebies, he steadied himself, and walked back out into the living room. He looked down at Yuri snuggled into the blankets, lips parted, softly snoring. Pieces of his bun had fallen down, blond tendrils trailed across his face. Otabek wound a few soft strands around his finger while he watched Yuri's sleeping form.

He looked so relaxed, it wasn't often that Otabek saw such a blissful expression of peace on his face. Even in his sleep Yuri was prone to scowling. He assumed that even in his dreams Yuri was yelling at others, but tonight he was serene, flawless, and utterly relaxed.

He couldn't help but lean over and kiss Yuri's parted lips.

Yuri's eyes fluttered open, arms drowsily lifting up towards Otabek, "Carry me to bed?" he whispered.

Otabek smiled, and scooped him up as if he weighed nothing. Even at 20 he was still small and lean. Yuri curled an arm over Otabek's neck, and snuggled in close. Otabek loved feeling the weight of Yuri's body against his own, and wondered how he had gotten so damn lucky in life.

Otabek was lucky, and he'd do anything for Yuri, even the thing.

**Hope you enjoyed it, I might add a few chapters, if enough people want to read more. I have a few ideas in my head, but nothing concrete. If you'd like to request something, I'd be open to ideas, just nothing crazy or kinky. I'd like to keep it more about domestic humorous type fluff. Let's be honest, we're all drowning in kinky Otayuri stores. I like the idea of them settled into domesticity, and passed the whirlwind part of their romance. That's when relationships really get interesting.