Chapter Text
THE INFAMOUS FLANNEL INCIDENT
PART II
It was already two-thirty in the morning when they arrived at their building. Otabek had an absolutely blank expression on his face and he wasn’t even glancing at Yuri while they made their way home from the parking lot. The natural course the Russian’s feelings went had him regretting ever opening his mouth as soon as they had begun riding the streets of St. Petersburgh. Yakov was right. He was a brat. Always throwing tantrums, then ending up being aggressive towards his boyfriend, who had no need of handling whatsoever. But Beka still did and he never held it against him or even yelled back. Yuri wondered if the blue-haired girl was a nice person. He wondered if she really was soft-spoken. He wondered if Beka would have held her hand on the way up the stairs if she hadn’t thrown a senseless fit. Maybe a girl like her would apologize right about now, if she had. I don’t even know what I’m talking about, even a dude would. Viktor would be licking the floor Yuuri walked on and Yuuri would be promising Viktor his heart, body and soul for his forgiveness. The problem, in the end, really is me. Yuri sighed. Only a couple more flights left. He took his cellphone out of his pocked and opened Instagram just to make himself look busy. It was too awkward.
Nevermind, the problem is YOU AND THE SMURFETTE BITCH.
Beka almost dropped the coat that he had folded over his arm when Yuri grabbed him by the wrist and rushed him up the rest of the stairs. This time, it was the blonde who didn’t even bother to look back because, as soon as he closed that door, he would give that man a piece of his mind and they couldn’t get there soon enough. After pulling the Kazakh – who looked unfazed, by the way, and almost tired - inside of the apartment, the blonde cornered him against the front door and held his cellphone inches from Otabek’s face.
- What the actual fuck?! – Yuri screamed and all his boyfriend did was squint his eyes to try and make out what was being shown to him.
Liked by pushhkoya, merkdnt, dohrk and 13 others
nibyashmenka: got a taste of what it's like to be @yuri-plisetsky tonight (it's
#bliss in case u were wondering) ❣
vanykof16: HE REALLY GAVE IT TO YOU??? OMFG #JEALOUS
pushhkoya: why are you taking a pic smelling the guy's clothes, you creeper
nibyashmenka: at least @vanykof admits she's jealous @pushhkoya
- So she’s your fan. – was Otabek’s conclusion.
Yuri’s eyes widened and wrinkles formed between his brows.
- Are you fucking with me? Are you seriously that dense?!
For a second, the Kazakh’s inhale was the only sound in the apartment. He closed his eyes, maintaining his composure. Not that he minded his boyfriend’s tone, but it was too late at night to decode whatever it was that he was supposed to. The blonde’s arm was still positioned, his iPhone in hand, even though the screen had already gone dark. Otabek held the back of that hand with his left, gently, and slowly pulled the phone out of it with his right. Yuri didn’t complain, only stared at his boyfriend’s fingers adjusting to intertwine with his in the middle of them. Otabek took a step forward and, not looking at the Russian, he placed the phone in front pocket of Yuri’s black leather jacket. He guided their joint hands down.
- Don’t get me wrong, okay? – the older man asked, then let his shoulders sink down and started leaning his side against the wall – I’m just… exhausted right now… From working, from working! – he quickly clarified, worried Yuri would think it was because of him. The Kazakh led the back of his own hand to his lips, kissing Yuri’s fingertips – What’s really bothering you?
Honestly, how could anyone win over him? Otabek’s eyes were half-closed and it was so clear how he was trying not to let his lids shut, but his features were still soft as he gazed at Yuri and the blonde was trying to ignore the curl at the sides of his boyfriend’s lips. Even after being yelled at and practically manhandled inside, Yuri knew Beka had taken the time to try and understand him. It was hard to look at him right now. On one hand, the Russian felt petty. And ungrateful. But, on the other hand, he was still not able to shake this feeling. In the end, he was looking for validation more than anything else.
The blonde was going to let go of Beka’s hand to lean back against the wall (beside him, but not facing him). The Kazakh noticed and didn’t let go of Yuri’s hand. Instead, they both leaned back with their intertwined fingers in between them. Their cats were sprawled on the couch, paying no attention. Yuri licked his lips and faced forward, he could sense Otabek staring at his profile.
- Do you not see anything wrong with some girl smelling your clothes?
Here I go again, sounding saltier than my own cooking.
- It kinda freaks me out, to be honest. Isn’t she, like, fifteen?
The blonde scoffed. – As if. You know better than anybody that they don’t let minors in.
- Fake ID? – He sounded so sleepy. – No way the girl’s legal, she looks like a child.
Yuri yanked his hand away, which seemed to startle Otabek, who suddenly had his eyes wide open. The blonde turned around, to face diagonally at his boyfriend, and crossed his arms on his chest.
- Is that your way of saying she’s cute?
Yeah, he really must’ve looked like somebody out of Mean Girls for the way Otabek subtly choked on a laugh.
- No? – it sounded like “Are you for real?” – It’s the universal way of saying that she looks like a child.
- Get that smug off your face, Altin, I’m onto you.
- Wow, that sounds offensive already.
Yuri ignored the comment. – I was sixteen when you got the hots for me.
- I was eighteen when I got the hots for you.
Otabek stating it as blatantly as he had made the blonde’s cheeks blush unconsciously.
- Anyhow, - Yuri started, way too fast – she’s not a minor. What’s your next excuse?
- For what?
- "For what?"! – he shouted – I don’t know, maybe for giving your clothes to the first pretty groupie you see?!
- She was not—Yuri showed him the death-glare. Otabek wouldn’t be caught dead finishing that sentence ("not the first pretty groupie I saw"). – Love, the girl had spilled coke on her shirt and she was sad ‘cause it would ruin the picture, so I just figured I had an extra one—
- YOU SWEAT ON THAT SHIRT, OTABEK! THERE’S, LIKE, YOUR FUCKING DNA ALL OVER IT!
Otabek was so confused.
He was seriously that dense.
In his frustration, Yuri turned and started pacing from one side to the other in the living room, pressing his lips together. As much as he wanted to listen to the side of him that said that this was a stupid argument, God, he hated her. Eventually, Beka walked up to him, his arms were crossed on his chest, getting defensive for being yelled at, most likely.
- You’re worried she might frame me for murder? – it sounded sarcastic, but it was the only thing the Kazakh could come up with.
Yuri started trying to put his hair up in a bun, but kept failing because of his shaking hands and ended up just messing it more.
- Do you not know what someone’s smell can make people do?! I wear your clothes all the time, Beka, I know!
- I might have an idea, but I’d very much rather hear it from you. – he teased.
The blonde’s eyes widened and he pushed the Kazakh’s shoulder lightly with one hand once, so much that Beka’s feet remained where they stood. – How can you— then twice – You know I’m pissed, how– - three times – You’re such an asshole—
Yuri felt his boyfriend’s arms wrap around his waist and tried to push him away.
- Do you want me to apologize?
He swallowed and looked down. – Would you even?
- Maybe not for giving her the shirt ‘cause I honestly didn’t mean anything of it and I would do it for—
- You’d do it for anybody. – the Russian whispered and hated that his voice cracked. He huffed, trying to force a smile, but ended up sniffing as his eyes threatened to water. – I know.
But I wanted to be special.
The Kazakh gently placed his hand on the back of Yuri’s head and pulled him closer, so they would be cheek-to-cheek, for Yuri to be able to hide his face and cry freely if he needed to. The blonde was just standing there, his fists still trapped between their chests. It made him so conflicted. Being held like this – nursed, taken care of, protected – made him feel like a baby, but… He still wanted it and longed for it when those were too far out of his reach. It made him feel warm inside. Yeah, he could probably cry, but he wouldn’t.
- But I would for hurting your feelings. Apologize, I mean. – Beka continued. – Yura, I’m sorry. – The blonde’s eyes widened when it reached his years. To be held like this… He craved it. – It doesn’t matter if I meant to or not. I’m sorry.
Otabek stretched his neck to hug him without forcing Yuri to hug him back, not narrowing the space in between them. The older man’s hand started moving, slowly and gently, up and down Yuri’s blonde hair. When was it exactly that you figured it all out? Otabek maybe couldn’t pinpoint what made Yuri angry because of his explosive personality, but he knew what made him sad. The Russian’s one fear was meeting once more the cold that he hadn’t been able to handle as a child. Living in this country all of his years, Yuri had never shivered in the winter as much as he did when he felt alone.
He heard his boyfriend snap his fingers and the cats were quickly lying on their feet.
- What are you thinking about? – the Kazakh asked.
Yuri recognized that tone. He was about to be led into a therapy session.
Calling the cats over was some sort of intervention, right? An intervention with kitties. A kittenvention.
Am I high?
The blonde tried to shrug the dumb off and shook his head, which his boyfriend took as a cue to let go of his hair. It hadn’t been. He bent his neck to rest his forehead on the man’s shoulder, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket, and took a deep breath.
- Can you say that you’re gay? – He wasn’t asking for it. It was an honest question.
- I definitely can’t say I’m not. – Otabek replied. – But you’re the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to, so I don’t know? I guess I’m being g-- - He clicked his tongue – I don’t even know, I don’t think about it that much.
The blonde nodded as much as he could in that position and licked his lips before standing upright and making his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water – as one would when they wanted to pretend that they weren’t paranoid. He had hoped for a different answer. “Who cares, I only want you” would’ve saved him a world of hurt. You should’ve just dismissed me completely. He looked at the Kazakh, who had been observing him silently, over his shoulder.
- You want some? – The Russian tried to ask as naturally as possible.
- Yura.
- No? Then I’ll— he stepped in front of the sink, meaning to wash his glass, but felt Beka grab his free hand, then take the glass out of the other and place it loudly in the sink.
The older man led them around the counter and placed his hands on Yuri’s sides, asking for permission to lift him up and have him sit there. Yuri did it himself. The Kazakh took a step back, scratching his shirt with his fingers as if his heart were hurting, then looked straight into Yuri’s eyes.
- Do you think I’m stupid? – It was also an honest question.
- What? – the blonde questioned.
- Don’t you think I can tell that what we have going on between us is a once in a lifetime thing?
- Right now, you may think this way, but—
He reached for the blonde’s knees and looked up at him. – Baby… - he breathed – What exactly do you think would change my mind?
The blonde crisscrossed his own fingers between his thighs, nervously fidgeting, and looked up.
- I don’t know, I mean… - he started – Like, I know the sex is better, but once that’s old news,you’ll fall back… - he took a deep breath to keep himself from tearing – to your natural… Instincts…
- You think my natural instinct is to sweet-talk girls that come to my concerts?
Yuri felt like he was about to say it one more time after his grandfather told him to say it one more time.
- Any… Girl… Actually…
The Kazakh laughed and looked down, still supporting himself on Yuri’s knees. The blonde slapped the side of his boyfriend’s head, mortified by the reaction. “Don’t be a dick”, “Sorry, sorry”. Otabek crossed his arms on Yuri’s thighs when he placed his hands on his sides. Then, Beka rested his cheek on his arms, stretching his legs to get comfortable, and look up at Yuri.
- I don’t get those kinds of urges, love. – he said.
- Come on, you fucked Karina.
- And you, Damyen. It doesn’t mean he’s your instinctive mate or whatever.
- It’s different, I can never be anything close to a chick—
Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri. The blonde never thought he’d see his boyfriend resting his head on his lap and clinging to him like this. It was cute.
- You can’t be anything close to anyone. Actually, nobody can be anything close to you.
Yuri grinned and huffed. He was so in love with that man. Maybe that was the reason that he was so afraid. But he started running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair anyway and he slowly closed his eyes. You’re Virgin-fucking-Mary.
- Go to bed, Beka. – he said and the Kazakh shook his head slightly. – Come on, you’re beat.
- Come with me.
- I’ll get our cats settled, then I’ll—
- Then, no. – he said, brushing his cheek on Yuri’s jeans – I won’t be able to sleep with you mad at me.
He could easily deny that.
- I’m not—
- Or with you alone with your thoughts.
But not that. So he said “okay” and waited for Beka to lazily adjust to get down the counter and make his way to the bedroom, asking the Kazakh to follow.
- I actually got the hots for you when I was thirteen. – the Kazakh suddenly said from behind him. Yuri’s hair slapped his face because of the speed in which he turned around. – Maybe not “the hots”, but I was hooked for sure. – Beka walked towards him, running his fingers into Yuri’s hair. The blonde could feel the warmth of his palm over his ear. – You were simply the most inspiring thing I had ever seen. Still are. – the Kazakh’s thumb started lining Yuri’s cheekbone – When I saw you for the first time, I didn’t want to skate. I thought it wasn’t for me. I wanted to give up, but my parents wouldn’t let me. But, you… - he smiled – beautiful, I saw you and I thought “I want to be in the same universe as him”. Because you made it freeing. Everything about you screams freedom. For a person like me, whose ears had never had a minute’s rest, you… You were my wings. - He kissed the blonde’s forehead - I’m sorry for getting carried away and not paying attention. But you – he hooked the Russian’s chin and kissed his lips – Set the bar way too high for anyone to follow. And I sure as hell ain’t settling for less.
Drinking doesn't Always have to lead to disaster - Part II
Orin's house, after the official proposal
“Yeah, me and the entire female demographic.”
Otabek’s eyes lost their light as soon as the words reached his ears. He nodded slightly and pressed his lips together, trying to accept that he had, really, just heard that and it wasn’t the alcohol getting to his brain. “Oh, yeah, we have this problem”, he remembered. That detail had gotten lost amidst the picturesque memories the Kazakh had replayed in his mind for months. Yuri’s jealousy, when it was all about Yuri and his own doubts, mostly didn’t get to him because the older man knew that whatever his boyfriend said was almost always meant towards whoever the girl was that had ticked him off. And, yes, it had to be girls. Yuri never once had felt threatened by other men that came onto Otabek.
The Kazakh slowly let go of the blonde. Not even for being disappointed – which, I kid you not, he was, but at everything else that had made Yuri so afraid of being replaced -, simply because, after hearing the affirmation, it was just awkward to keep holding him. He sincerely didn’t know if Yuri was just putting his concerns out there or honestly believed that Otabek was actually interested in anybody else other than him. The blonde didn’t seem to mind.
- Vitya, - they heard Mila mumble at the phone – your loose cannon is firing all over the place again!
Yuri instantly furrowed his eyebrows. – Mila, this is embarrassing to your soul.
- And he’s not only a bitch to Beka, but to me, too, Vityaaa—
- малыш, your phone has been dead for an hour, remember? – Orin carefully took the cell out of her hand. Yuri scoffed. – But you really are too old for passive-aggressiveness, Yuri.
- You’re too new into the group to comment, Orin. – Beka reflexively fired. He was standing up for Yuri before he even had the time to think about the people that were actually standing up for him. – Just… Nevermind, alright? Let’s go, cab’s waiting.
The blonde murmured “Hang on” already making his way towards Kai and Remi. Beka instinctively followed. His bandmates were sitting next to each other, playing with each other’s hands like thirteen-year-olds. The Kazakh had caught on that they had been pining for each other for a long time, maybe ever since they’d met. Kai was a shy, introspective guy. Like a softer version of Otabek, if you would. He used to have hair in a shade of blonde that was almost white and light-brown eyes, but he had dyed his locks black when Remi had started dating. It should have been that airhead’s first clue, but Remi couldn’t pick up on it and, honestly, Otabek didn’t know if he was willing to take the leap, even though it was clear that the tension was there. Maybe all he needed was a bad break-up and a bottle of vodka to realize that gender meant shit.
- Yo, straights, - the blonde called – do you guys have condoms?
Otabek frowned. They had a habit of carrying condoms in their wallets – when you were dating Yuri Plisetsky, you never knew when they would come in handy – and shouldn’t he be the one his own boyfriend would ask condoms to?
- Nah, sorry. – Remi replied, and Beka knew the disappointed in his voice was not for not being able to help a friend out.
– I guess big boss Lucifer was looking out for ya, that’s why we strangely didn’t engage in hot engagement sex in the bathroom. – he opened Kai’s hand, placed the condom on his palm, then closed it. His cheeks turned vivid red, Otabek worried they might melt. – Water doesn’t work, but conditioner does. – the blonde pointed out, before putting his hands in his jacket pockets and turning around. – Welcome to the new world, kids. – he said, waving them goodbye.
Unconsciously, a grin had formed on Otabek’s lips, then turned into a smile. Seriously, how did Yuri do it? It was astonishing how he was wrapped around that Russian beauty’s little finger and gladly so. That blonde, green-eyed feline with a smart-mouth, always so brazen, so unpredictable, so undeniably himself was the one person in the world who was able to bring out such exposed reactions out of Otabek. And he did so easily, so unknowingly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Yuri wasn’t imaginary.
The Kazakh had never believed in perfection. As a matter of fact, he thought a perfect person would be a flawed one just for the lack of distinctive quirks. He did, however, found logical that there would be a perfect match for everyone, quirks and all. His entire life, Otabek had been called every variation of the word “cold”. It was like he had been born with merged heart and mind. Everything that he felt came in words and thoughts and thorough analysis. His head would be always too busy to think of showing a person a smile or a pat on the back. But Yuri… He had never known what it was like to be impulsive until he saw Yuri in front of a hotel in Barcelona, when he was eighteen, and he needed to get close to him. He needed to look at him.
“What are you staring at, asshole?”
He chuckled in his head then.
Since both were the same, he heard the thump of his heart.
The Ice Tiger of Russian had already conquered him whole.
Yuri winked as he made to walk past Otabek, but the older man took a side-step to block his way. It was so clear, now. Loving Yuri Plisetsky was one epiphany after the other. The blonde waited with a brow raised.
- Look, I’m gonna need you to stop with the remarks about women, okay? – then he said the rest with one breath: - Anybody can see from a mile away how stupidly in love with you I am, so you sound like a basket case every time you come up with these things and I’m honestly embarrassed for you.
The Kazakh swallowed and expected his fiancé’s reaction. Yuri’s lips parted a bit and Beka cursed the moment he had opened his mouth, but, then, the blonde showed his teeth when his chin dropped, letting out an amused gasp. The laughter started growing from his stomach, then reaching the younger man’s lips, Yuri shut his eyes tightly like he had heard the world’s funniest joke. He threw his head down and placed both hands on his bent knees, still laughing.
- Somebody needs to make a sitcom character out of you. – the blonde said, as he straightened his back again and brushed his hair to the side with one hand.
Otabek wasn’t quite sure of what to make out of the reaction, but Yuri smiled. His cheeks were flushed and his face looked fresh, as if there wasn't a tense joint in his body anymore. The Kazakh wished he could take a picture of him right now. The blonde stretched out his arm in the space between them, closing one eye and showing the other man a thumbs-up, blocking Otabek’s right eye from the green eyes’ sight with his languid thumb, like one would to erase the moon from the night sky. If he were to continue with the metaphor, Beka would state that there was no need for a moon. That smile. It was bright enough for him to find his way in the dark.
- You got it. – Yuri assured him.