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Yuri Plisetsky was a thief and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. That was the thought running through Otabek’s head as he stared at Yuri’s latest Instagram post.
To others it might have seemed like an innocent enough picture. Yuri was posing next to Yuuri at the ice rink, making fun of the look Yuuri was sending Viktor from across the ice. Even the caption did nothing to incriminate Yuri, simply remarking that as much as he hated the lovey-dovey eyes he was glad to have them back. To anyone else, the picture would seem to have caught an innocent moment between a couple and their third wheel. To Otabek, it was all the proof he needed.
Swiping Instagram to the background, Otabek jabbed his phone, bringing up the most recently dialed numbers. Poking Yuri’s number, perhaps a little to forcefully, Otabek brought the phone to his ear as he heard the line start to ring. Hearing the third ring come and go was just further incriminating Yuri in Otabek’s mind. After the fourth ring, Otabek heard the line pickup.
“Hello Otabek. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Yuri began, a bit too sweetly.
“You know exactly why i’m calling.”
“I haven’t the faintest clue,” Yuri responded, honey dripping from his words.
“Cut the crap Yuri, you know what you did.”
“As much as you may like to think I read minds, Beka, I don’t.”
Otabek was quiet for a moment, taking a breath. “I saw your latest Instagram post,” Otabek retorted.
“Oh did you now?” Yuri responded, returning to his overly innocent act. “It is so nice that Yuuri and Viktor are back in Russia following their honeymoon.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about Yuri and you know it.” Frustration seeping into Otabek’s voice.
There was a slight pause. “Whatever do you mean? You’ll have to explain, I don’t follow.”
Some days Otabek could not believe how stubborn his boyfriend was. Yuri knew what he had done; the eyes staring straight into his soul from the photo told Otabek Yuri knew exactly what he was doing taking that photo. Looking innocent in his workout clothes, twirling the string of his headphones around his finger. Well not his headphones. They were, in fact, Otabek’s headphones. Which is why they were having this conversation in the first place.
“I don’t need to explain myself Yuri, you need to explain yourself.” Otabek said with a sigh. “I specifically asked you if you had seen my headphones, which had gone missing after you left this last time. I believe you said and I quote ‘no Beka, I have no clue where your headphones are. The last time I saw them was on your bed.’ How could the last time you saw them be on my bed if you have them in Russia with you?”
“Well you see Beka, you can’t see headphones if they are on your head,” Yuri responded with a chuckle.
“So, you admit you stole them,” Otabek responded. “A confession at last. Just what the police need to come arrest you. With your confession and the evidence on Instagram I think this case is a one and done. The police should have no problem locking a thief like you up for a long time.”
“Beka, I’m no thief. Think of it as motivation for you to come visit me!”
“No thief my ass. What about my two favorite t-shirts you stole or the countless hoodies? I am going to go broke trying to replace them. Most incriminating of all, my team Kazakhstan jacket, with my name on it. With the sheer amount you have stolen and all of the evidence, I think the police will lock you up for a long time.”
“Well if that’s true, I do hope to see you for conjugal visits.” Yuri said, smirk evident in his voice as he ended the call.