~ Mpreg (there is something very wrong with me, I am aware), domestic fluff, and squirrel humor

A scrabble outside drew Otabek to the door. It was most likely nothing, just some animal running over the gravel drive and walkway and making an infernal racket-- God, the thing was a nuisance. With the knowledge that there was a 99.99% chance that this was the source of the noise, Otabek set his hand on the doorknob-- just to check. He couldn't not. Because it might not be a squirrel.

Otabek knew he was thinking wishfully; he knew that Yuri's plane got in at a quarter to seven and it was barely five; he knew that he was picking Yuri up and there was no fucking way that it was him in the driveway. But the four months of separation had taken a toll on him, and if there was even the slightest off-chance that by some miracle of nature it was Yuri in the driveway, he needed to be sure.

Married for four years in a month, Yuri and Otabek were very much in love, a fact which only made four months' separation harder to deal with. Yuri had remained in their tiny apartment in Saint Petersburg while Otabek had headed to Almaty to set up the house they'd bought only a few weeks before. Ideally, he wouldn't have left so early, arriving with Yuri several months later, but his record label had signed him up for a tour just over six months ago, and between flying to cities halfway around the globe to perform and trying to settle some more domestic squabbles, it had just become easier to head to Almaty early, leave for the tour a week later, and return three days before Yuri arrived. On a normal occasion, Yuri would've accompanied Otabek on tour, or even stayed in Almaty to deal with moving in, but he'd had obligations from his (now finished) job at Victor and Yuuri's dance studio to fulfill and it just wouldn't have made sense for him to leave before he had.

Which lead to this: Otabek going crazy waiting to see his husband for the first time in four months and stalking a squirrel on the off-chance (and by off chance he meant 9,000 to -.001 against) that said squirrel was actually Yuri, the man having worked his usual magic to get himself an earlier flight in hopes of surprising Otabek. Which really wasn't something so out of character for him to do.

So, mentally rolling his eyes at himself and his newly developed stalker-like tendencies, Otabek pulled open the front door; hey, if all else failed, he figured, he could become a professional nature photographer and get paid to not-so-secretly obsess over his husband and his possible relations to squirrels.

Chuckling softly at the thought, and wondering vaguely if the prolonged separation had actually sent him off the deep end, (he was venturing dangerously close to Victor territory) Otabek stepped out onto the front porch.

Fucking Christ.

Of course it was in Yuri's character to book an earlier flight and find his way from the airport to the house without telling anyone, because, naturally, that was what the little shit had done.

As Otabek stood on the doorstep, moments from yanking himself out of his stupid, trance-like state at seeing his husband again, Yuri (or someone who looked remarkably like Yuri, cheetah print bag and all), stood on that godforsaken gravel drive, tugging violently at his suitcase, trying to, from the looks of it, extricate its wheels from the gravel that they'd become stuck in.

With one last hearty yank, the suitcase came free, and, tucking a lock of long, blonde hair behind his ear, Yuri continued to approach the front door. He watched his suitcase distrustfully for a second as he pulled it along, then turned his back on the infernal thing, and his thin t-shirt pulled taut across his body, highlighting the curve at his navel. Glancing up, red-faced and sweating in the scorching Almaty heat, Yuri saw Otabek; they locked eyes.

Yuri didn't pounce on Otabek in their usual greeting fashion, partially because Yuri remained a good six feet away, and partly because to reach Otabek he'd have to vault over five steps onto the front porch, and, though Otabek didn't doubt Yuri could do it, it would have been exceedingly stupid to try; the gravel was an unsteady surface to take off from, and it would probably result in a broken ankle.

No, instead he dropped his suitcase, and rushed forward, Otabek flying down the front steps and enveloping him in his arms. Yuri's hands found dark hair, and as their lips met, Otabek felt his husband's nails scratching against the short, velvety hairs of his undercut, and likewise one of his hands knotted itself in Yuri's loose, blonde tresses.

They broke apart only when breathing became necessary, and Otabek took a good five seconds just to take Yuri in. His face was flushed from exertion and his cheeks were a bit puffy-- not at all surprising given his current condition. His emerald eyes shone and sparkled as his golden hair fell around his face, framing it, and winning the battle against the hair tie Otabek could see tangled in what must have once been a ponytail near the back of Yuri's head. Beaming, Yuri looked back at him, taking in his appearance as he had his, and, at last, stepping back slightly. Instantly, Otabek's eyes fell and watched Yuri's hands as they moved to his abdomen, cupping and highlighting the curve there, formed from six months of pregnancy.

Being the 'corny sap' Yuri constantly accused him of acting like (and, whatever, this was totally worth it) a huge smile split across Otabek's face (Yuri would later tease him that it had been bigger than it had been on their wedding day, though Otabek believed whole-heartedly that they were of equal size and enthusiasm) and tears tickled his eyes (yeah, he really got laughed at for that one later).

Coming forward and embracing Yuri once more, Otabek wrapped one arm around his waist while the hand of the other fell to the space between Yuri's own, resting against his abdomen. Otabek stared down at it, gasping slightly as he felt a small thump against where his palm was placed. He raised his gaze to Yuri's face, and kissed him tenderly, Yuri laughing slightly into it when the baby kicked twice more against their hands.

In a few minutes, the spell was broken, or, not broken, suspended rather, and the (admittedly large) part of Otabek's brain that had gone dormant upon seeing Yuri, returned to him. With a glance up at the sun scorching down upon them, and Yuri's bare arms and face, Otabek walked the few steps down the drive (he hated losing contact with his husband even if it was only for a few seconds; he hadn't seen him or his baby in four months-- sue him) and yanked the leopard-print suitcase out from the gravel it had again managed to get itself stuck in, before turning and wrapping an arm around Yuri's waist, leading him and the suitcase inside.

Leaving the case in the hall, Otabek held Yuri fully, standing behind him and wrapping his arms around him so his palms again rested on his abdomen. He smiled as he felt another light jab against where his hand rested (God, he'd never get tired of that), and stroked gently as Yuri settled against him, leaning into his chest with his head on his shoulder.

"Welcome home," Otabek murmured into Yuri's ear, letting out a short chuckle as another kick landed right under Yuri's belly button-- almost in response to the words.

Yuri turned his head to look at him, "Corny," He muttered, but his words had no bite to them as he smiled and he kissed Otabek again.

Their positioning didn't last long, Otabek taking a bit longer than he normally would to notice how Yuri sagged against him, and realizing that after a five-hour flight, dealing with the insanity of the immigration line, baggage claim, the general chaos of the airport, and fighting to get a cab home, all while six months pregnant, Yuri had to be past exhausted.

"Do you want to sit down?" Otabek murmured and Yuri just groaned, dropping his head onto Otabek's shoulder and letting him lead him into the living room.

Yuri sank onto the couch with every appearance of a person who would like nothing more than to just sleep for thirteen hours straight, and, when Otabek nudged the ottoman at him (yes, he had had the foresight to think of that at the home-goods store) he put his feet up, seeming to melt on the spot.

Otabek smiled watching him, and bent down to kiss him on the cheek before another thought struck him: the flight was only five hours long, so they wouldn't have given the passengers anything more than ginger ale and a tiny bag containing approximately four animal crackers for its duration, not to mention that the time it had taken for Yuri to get home from the airport had to have been at least another hour, probably longer.

"Are you hungry?" Otabek asked quietly, sitting lightly on the edge of the couch and stroking Yuri's hair. His closed eyelids fluttered; Otabek was almost sure he was rolling his eyes.

"God, yes." He groaned at the same time as his stomach gave an audible growl. Yuri huffed and Otabek chuckled slightly, setting a hand against it (because, seriously, he would never stop loving the feeling of it) before pressing a kiss first to Yuri's forehead, then to his abdomen. Otabek didn't need to look to know that Yuri had flushed bright pink.

"Stay here; I'll fix you something," Otabek murmured before standing.

Yuri nodded drowsily, "Good, because I am absolutely not getting up."

Otabek laughed and kissed him once more on the forehead before heading into the kitchen.

Once Yuri was fed (that had taken a while; it was true what they said about pregnancy and devouring everything in sight-- even more so with a famished and travel-worn Yuri) and felt willing to stand again. (he'd winced visibly as he'd stood back up, and Otabek felt a pang of sympathy for how badly his feet had to be hurting after the day he'd had) Otabek had taken him on a tour of the house.

It was very brief, the temporary rest and meal obviously doing nothing to assuage Yuri's exhaustion but Yuri was stubborn enough to insist that he had to 'meet' his own home before going to bed. (They both ignored the fact that the clock was just on seven in the evening and Yuri's body clock thought it was only four.)

After showing Yuri around quickly, taking a glance at the backyard that had a nice patio, a grill, and the space for both a pool and a treehouse, because, in Yuri's words: "Fuck yes!", and the rest of the rooms in the house (excluding the attic; all of those stairs were not necessary right then), Otabek led Yuri to their second to last stop.

Yuri stopped in the doorway, pressing a hand to his mouth as tears gathered in his eyes, (Otabek could already hear Yuri's later declaration of: "Fucking hormones!") looking for the first time upon the nursery.

Gently wrapping an arm around him, Otabek led him further into the room, and Yuri sniffled slightly (which they both ignored) as he looked around at the soft, lilac walls and the light chestnut furniture. As he passed the changing table, Yuri ran a hand along the baby blanket that already rested upon it, folded and ready to go. When he reached the crib Yuri let out a tiny, tear-choked laugh as he reached inside and extracted a tiny white tiger plushy wearing a little pink bowtie.

"Do you like it?" Otabek's voice was soft as he came up behind him, gently wrapping his arms around his husband as he looked all around their daughter's bedroom.

"Yes," Yuri whispered, tears on his cheeks, but a small, contented smile upon his face. "It's perfect," he turned to face Otabek, bringing his arms up to sling them together around his neck, "I love you." He rested his head against Otabek's chest, utterly exhausted, but also hopelessly happy.

"I love you too," Otabek's reply was soft enough that it could have been missed but for the rumble Yuri felt in the man's chest as he spoke.

They went to bed after that, Yuri almost sobbing in relief and delight when he saw the pregnancy body pillow already lying on the comforter. That night, Yuri, cushioned on the pillow, and Otabek, his arms around him, slept soundly. They smiled in their dreams, content that they were finally together again, and safe in the knowledge that they would remain together for a long time to come.