December 8th, 2025 -The Next Day-41 Weeks (Late)-

Yuri's POV

I walk through the house slowly, one hand on my lower back and the other on my bump. Well, I can't really call it a bump anymore. Large, intrusive, and very heavy, it seems to have taken over my life, dictating whether I can or cannot do things normally. I cannot, and it seems I never will again. It's a week past and I've yet to see any result of a nine-month wait. The anticipation is making me crazy, I hate not knowing when it's going to happen.

I ease myself onto the couch, pulling a blanket over as I do. I glance at the clock on my phone, 5:30, Beka should be home soon. Right now he's out at a press conference, the media being desperate to catch up with him after the results of the Grand Prix. They've been pestering him for the last month but he's been resistant to do it. Finally, though, they've gotten annoying enough that Yakov's forced him to, sick of them coming after him with questions about next season. We have it all worked out of course but haven't publicly stated our plans yet, drawing curiosity from many figure skating supporters.

I lie on the couch and pick up my book, this angle being perfect for reading. After a while though, I find myself growing disinterested and, resting my head on my arm, set it aside in favor of something else. I consider turning on the TV but that would require me to move, and I'm decidedly against that. I'm very comfortable right now, warm and relaxed beneath the blanket so it's no surprise when my eyes begin to shut of their own accord. I try to stay awake but eventually give in, nothing can keep me from sleep now. Even the faint kicks to my abdomen seem small and insignificant.

***

Otabek's POV 1st Person- An Hour Later-

I walk inside the door to find the house oddly quiet. Leaving the cold air, I venture into the living room, smiling at the sight before me. Yuri lies on the couch, Potya curled near his head and purring gently. A blanket lies draped over him, highlighting his stomach which has grown to be large and eyecatching. His arms rest against it, protectively wrapped around and holding it gently. A book sits beside the sofa, lying open and discarded on the floor as if Yuri didn't care to put it away. I can't blame him, he seems exhausted even in his sleep, his slender frame under so much stress right now. These past few months have been difficult for him but he's taken it all so well, never complaining even after inconvenience after inconvenience present themselves. 

I remove my coat and continue through to the kitchen, not wanting to wake my husband. I set the bag of Chinese food I carry down on the table, thinking I'll put it in the fridge for later when my attention is drawn away. A crash sounds from the living room and I feel my heart speed up. Rounding the corner I see Yuri on the ground, struggling to get to his feet. I go to him immediately and help him up, guiding him onto the couch.

"What happened? Are you okay?" I ask him, worried.

"I'm fine," He purses his lips, "I lost my balance," His hand wanders down to his abdomen and he shakes his head, looking vaguely annoyed with himself. "Who'd think," He mutters, "Award-winning figure skater can't stand up," He must see the look on my face for he quickly adds, "It's okay Beka, I'm fine," I give him a small smile and help him get to his feet, holding onto him a moment longer than necessary.

"I got Chinese for dinner," I tell him as we head into the kitchen, refraining with difficulty from offering assistance as he waddles down the hallway. He smiles,

"Sounds good," 

Once we dish out the food we decide to watch a movie and return to the living room, debating what it should be. We're agreed that as Christmas is so near, the movie will be one of the Home Alones, but we're conflicted about which one. I maintain that the second is the best while Yuri persists that the first is a classic. Eventually, we decide that we'll watch them both in order and get settled in front of the TV.

***

"Ouch," Yuri winces sympathetically for the man on screen as an entire shelf of paint cans falls on him, dying him multiple colorful hues, all of which looking very painful.

"I know, that would probably kill you in reality," I agree

"No, well, I mean, yeah, but not that." His hold tightens slightly around his stomach,

"What?" I ask him, immediately going to the most likely scenario. He shakes his head,

"Nothing," I study his face, not believing for a second that it truly is nothing.

About ten minutes pass in silence until this happens again. Yuri gasps softly and grips his abdomen harder than ever, eyes shut tightly. "Yuri?" He shakes his head slightly, eyes still shut, but after a moment shakily opens them, staring at me. His face says it all and I squeeze his hand, turning off the TV.

"I'm not ready," He says quietly, terror in his voice.

"It'll be okay," I promise him and try for a reassuring smile even though I'm mentally freaking out.

He looks at me, his beautiful green eyes bright with fear, "But we don't have a name yet, or a car seat-"

"All of that can wait," I take his hands and try to convey some sense of confidence to him, "But right now the important thing is getting to the hospital," He nods slowly and, leaning heavily upon me, gets to his feet.

"This is it," He says with a nervous smile, as we leave the house. "Here we go,"