“Right, we just have a quick meeting with your business manager to go over the new endorsement deals.”
Yuri glared one of his most potent glares but the assistant coach tasked with keeping him on schedule for the day was too busy flipping through his papers to notice. Maybe someone had warned him it was easier to avoid eye contact when giving Yuri bad news. Yuri hated business meetings. He knew they were necessary, important even. But the more titles he stacked up and the more medals he collected the more business there seemed to be. Medaling in the Olympics was a turning point for endorsement deals, the number of offers multiplied exponentially after PyeongChang.
Yakov knew he wanted as little to do with the whole mess of promotion and finances as possible and he actually did a pretty good job keeping Yuri’s schedule mostly clear of it. He had a very good accountant and aforementioned business manager to take care of it but he still had to actually meet with them occasionally. He’d rather be doing basically anything else, on the ice would be the best of course, but he’d probably take ballet, running, even core strength training over being stuck in a conference room,
At least over the last year or two the woman had gotten really good at streamlining everything, condensing all of the information into the most relevant thirty minutes or so. He took notes as she went through the highlights of the new batch of endorsements. He usually had the final yes or no on things so he’d go through the info packets later.
“And the last one was a sponsor for the national Olympic team and now they want you specifically.” She slid a sheaf of paper with a bright orange logo over to him. “Coach Yakov has already signed off on this one, he said, and I quote-” she smiled a little, “-no arguments, it’s a done deal, besides the brat should like this one, it’s on brand.”
A leaping tiger logo filled the cover page. “Tiger Balm, seriously?”
The manager shrugged, smiling unapologetically. “It does fit your image well, Yuri.”
“Ugh, ok. But I am not wearing cat ears or anything. Half of my fans are freaking furries already.”
Sprawled half across Otabek’s lap after dinner that night, Yuri was leafing through the ad campaign proposal and scoffing. The sketches for the print ads actually looked kind of cool and the commercials would be ninety percent footage of him skating so that was fine but the slogan…
Yuri crinkled his nose up and scowled, “Hear me roar? What the hell kind of lame ass slogan is that?”
Otabek had years of practice schooling his expressions so he didn’t outright laugh at Yuri but peering over the edge of the paper Yuri could see the telltale gleam of amusement in his eyes and the slight twitch at the edge of his mouth.
“Come on, admit it, if you’d thought of it first you would think it was pretty cool.”
“I will do no such thing,” he sniffed. He and Beka both knew he was full of it but at least his boyfriend let him pretend to be cool most of the time.
“What the fuck do they think I am, a fucking geezer who needs shitty Chinese medicine to function?”
“I think it’s made in Singapore,” Otabek countered thoughtfully.
“Not helpful.” Yuri leaned over the gently whap Otabek over the head with the packet of papers and only half managed to swallow an involuntary hiss at the sudden sharp pull of his shoulder muscles.
Otabek’s head whipped toward him, focusing in like a hawk. “I thought that last fall you took near the end of the day looked worse than you would admit to.”
Yuri huffed lightly, “It’s fine. We’ve both had worse and you know it.” But he reached over to squeeze Beka’s hand anyway, a silent ‘thanks for looking out for me’.
Otabek stood and tugged Yuri’s other hand gently, “Come lay down, I’ll give you something that will help.”
“Will you now?” Yuri grinned lasciviously but Beka just rolled his eyes and headed into the bedroom, directing Yuri to take his shirt off and lay down on his stomach.
They had professional trainers and masseuses at the rink complex of course but they’d both gotten pretty good at basic massage for routine aches and pains. Plus no matter how skilled the pros, nothing compared to the feeling of Beka’s hands on his skin.
Otabek lightly worked the muscles under and around his shoulder blade before pulling something out of a small box. There was a fresh, astringent smell as Otabek smoothed something onto his skin.
Immediately the patch Otabek had affixed started emitting a strong but comfortable warmth. He could feel the muscles all the way down his back loosen even further in response. Otabek chuckled, low and affectionate and Yuri knew something was up.
“Is that what I think it is?” He tried to sound irate, he really did. But the soothing sweep of Otabek’s hand up and down his spine and the pleasant heat radiating across his shoulder were conspiring to leech all of the irritation from his voice and he just ended up somewhere closer to drowsy resignation.
Otabek hummed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “At least you know you’re endorsing something that works.”
You're up, marksykins! <3