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Otabek Altin was a cheater and there was no way for him to hide it. Yuri hadn’t been sure for a while, but the evidence was damning. Now that he knew the truth about his boyfriend, Yuri was prepared for the confrontation.
“How could you?” Yuri asked, after Otabek picked up the call.
“Huh,” Otabek answered, sleep evident in his voice.
“You heard me, jerk. How could you do this to me?”
“Wha...what are you talking about Yura? What time is it?”
Yuri only felt a little pity for the fact that he had woken his boyfriend up at 2am, forgetting the three hour time difference, but this conversation was important and couldn’t possibly wait.
“I can’t believe you don’t know why I’m calling. I should have realized it sooner, but no I just had to look over all the suspicious behavior.”
“I seriously have no clue what you are talking about, Yura.”
“Really Beka, you can’t even admit to it?” Yuri growled. Yuri thought for a moment, hoping to force his boyfriend’s hand and make him admit to his actions. Yuri played his trump card, knowing that name dropping Otabek’s idol would at least spark his memory of his transgressions. “Mary Berry would be disappointed in you.”
“Shit,” Otabek cursed, realization dawning on him. “I thought I had reset the episode to the beginning.”
“Wow, not only do you admit that you cheated on me, but you even admit to trying to cover it up. What an incredibly inconsiderate person you are.”
“I’m sorry Yura, the last time we watched it you fell asleep and I just couldn’t get up to turn it off. You were sleeping so peacefully. Ten seconds really isn’t long enough.”
Of course, Otabek would try to shift the blame onto him. It wasn’t his fault that he had fallen asleep, Otabek was just so warm and huggable. And anyways, it wasn’t his fault that Otabek had decided to cheat on him. The Great British Bake Off was their show. It was their way to unwind after a long week. The fact that Otabek had watched at least one and a half episodes of their show without him was the greatest slight in history. Did the show mean nothing to Otabek? Their long hours watching the show, betting on who would win, attempting over half of the the recipes, because clearly they could make a chocolate souffle better than the contestants. This show was one of the cornerstones to their relationship, and Otabek had broken that tradition and his trust.
“Yura, are you still there?” Otabek questioned, the long silence worrying him. “I really am sorry, is there any way to make it up to you?”
“You might be able to make it up to me with another croquembouche,” Yuri said, mouth watering at the thought of dozens of tiny cream puffs.
“I suppose that could be arranged,” Otabek chuckled, remembering Yuri’s valiant if futile attempt during their last baking fiasco.
“Don’t sound so smug. I said you might be forgiven,” Yuri retorted. “Who knows how many desserts you’ll have to make me before you’re completely forgiven. Could be ten, twenty, one hundred.”
“I would make you ten thousand deserts if I had to. I would even go on The Great British Bake Off and win if it meant you forgave me.”
“Beka, you’re not even British.”