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It was dark and cold in the St. Petersburg streets. Yuri and Otabek’s living room window faced down onto a series of storefronts and apartments, but tonight no light was visible, for the winter was throwing down a vicious storm.
Yuri glared beyond the pane with a hunger that rivaled the snow’s insatiability and Otabek could not imagine in all the world why, until Yuri said, “No one will go to public skate hours tomorrow with the weather like this. We can get to the rink early, and I can practice before Yakov comes.”
Otabek frowned. The idea of dragging himself into the freezing morning, only to plow through the snow by foot to get to the rink, was not what he wanted to dwell on when he’d been trying to coax Yuri to the couch for the past half-hour to watch a movie.
“Okay,” he obliged. “Tomorrow. Not tonight.”
Yuri huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, yeah. I just need to practice.”
“I know, but you’ll get it down. You always do.”
He fell onto the couch and curled up next to Otabek, but still grumbled. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Relax.”
Yuri brought his knees under him and was quiet, but Otabek was determined to spend a single peaceful night in. With the remote in hand, he started searching for their movie while Yuri dragged a blanket over them.
In the darkness, with his arm around Yuri, and the opening theme of a movie filling the room, Otabek felt a calmness he’d forgotten could settle in. The snow and worries about tomorrow were almost distant memories when Yuri whispered, “Otabek…”
“Hm?”
“Do you think my quad sal is getting weak?”
“Yuri.”
~
Otabek barely woke up to the first ridiculous alarm.
He did wake up when Yuri yelled out minutes later.
Otabek didn’t catch what Yuri said or if he said anything at all. He tried to push past it, let it fade into dream. Maybe it was just that, and Yuri was still curled into his body - he pretended he wasn’t noticing the distinct absence of him in his arms. Dream, dream, dream…
“Otabek,” Yuri whispered with a shake of his shoulder. Otabek tried to hold onto sleep still, but -
“Otabek!” The covers ripped off him. “Yakov freaking canceled practice!”
He sat up to that. The room was dark, though there was a distinct brightness beyond the bedroom’s drawn curtains. Yuri was kneeling on the bed, still in the long T-shirt he’d worn to sleep. His hair was a ruffled mess.
“What?”
“Yeah! Look!” His phone was shoved in front of him; Otabek squinted against its terribly bright light. God, too early.
A message from Yakov was open.
Rink is closed because of a power outage, and I can’t get my car out anyway. No practice today.
A message from Yuri had followed with, I checked and that rink at Zhdanovskaya is open. But Yakov had reiterated the I can’t get my car out anyway message with, If you can make it there, practice your free skate. You know what parts.
Before anything else, Otabek clarified, “Yuri, that rink is 45 minutes away.”
“I’ll take the bus. But I can’t believe this!”
He tossed his phone onto the bed and scrambled off. Helpless, Otabek watched as Yuri marched to the window, exclaimed, “I doubt it’s even that bad!” and nearly tore the curtains off their hinges as he shoved them apart. That suspicious light revealed itself in a blinding stream - white, icy brightness flooded into the room. Otabek covered his eyes and Yuri yelled, “Damn!”
Muscles stiff and unhappy, Otabek moved from the bed and made his way to the window. His jaw dropped a little; the world outside was absolutely caked in white. Snow clung to tree branches, pulling them down in long white arcs. A few limbs had even cracked off onto the ground - and maybe into the streets? One couldn’t be sure. Snow completely covered everything.
The bus stop sign stuck resolutely out from the snow that climbed almost halfway up its pole. It was the only thing besides the buildings and trees visible outside, there as if to mock Yuri’s declaration to take the bus.
“Wow,” Otabek said. “I haven’t seen a snow so bad in a long time.”
“Why aren’t they clearing the roads?” Yuri demanded. He was pressed against the window and peering down both sides of the street. “I don’t see anyone!”
“I’m sure they’re trying, somewhere. This is a little much though.”
With a disgruntled sigh, Yuri yanked the curtains shut. “Of course this would happen.”
“It’s just one day,” Otabek tried, but Yuri was at the closet and shuffling through it. He tore out a sweatshirt and threw it onto the bed, then a pair of pants. Otabek frowned. He knew how much Yuri was stressed about skating and knew just how much this was throwing him off.
Otabek parted the curtains enough to peak down the street. It was a desert of white with no sign of anyone even attempting to brave the weather. “At least it’s stopped,” he suggested despite the ruffle of Yuri mangling himself into his clothes. Yuri only grunted in harsh response.
Otabek hadn’t even considered his lack of practice today - he had a lot to work on, too. More than Yuri.
Yuri ran a comb through his hair and began to tie it up. Otabek sighed, swallowed hard, and said, “Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
“And why?”
“I’m going to see how bad it is for myself.”
Otabek watched him dig for another few moments. His forehead was creased, teeth biting lower lip, and it was hard not to think he was adorable when this stubborn about something so far out of his control.
And so Otabek’s frown faded. He had his snow day mission.
When Yuri shoved on a tiny green toboggan, Otabek was behind him to promptly pull it off. He slid an arm around him, tightening it when Yuri yelled out his name and tried to snatch the hat back. “There’s no chance the snow isn’t there from the ground floor,” he whispered, forehead pressed into the back of Yuri’s head. “I promise.”
Yuri squirmed again. “I want to at least estimate how long it’ll take the city to get plowed.”
“Yuri.” Otabek grabbed his hand, humming a little nonchalant response to Yuri’s continued resistance. He pulled until Yuri let himself be tugged from the bedroom. Otabek led them to their deck’s window and pulled the blinds aside. That snowy light poured in along with the sight of snow drifts piled against their window pane. From here they had a different view from their spot in the city.
As Otabek suspected, no one was out there. The world was dead.
“Fine,” Yuri resigned. “I’m mad, though.”
“I know.” Otabek pushed some of Yuri’s hair from his face and amused himself to a smile as Yuri forced his lips into a tight, narrow line. Otabek told him, “We’re going to relax today.”
Yuri’s whole body slumped a little, and then he let his head gently knock against Otabek’s chest. He deflated more with a sigh. “I don’t know if I ever can,” he exasperated.
Otabek ran fingers through Yuri’s ponytail. It’d been loosened by the hat. Otabek pulled the band out and let his hair splay down his shoulders. Yuri still didn’t move, except as Otabek took him softly by the shoulders to turn him around.
He took the length of Yuri’s hair, finger-combed it a few times, and began tying it back up. “How’s this,” he said. “You get into something comfortable to stay in all day, and I’m going to take a quick shower. When I come out, we’ll eat something. Whatever you want.”
“Yeah, okay,” Yuri resigned further. Otabek’s heart gave a little squeeze - he hated when Yuri’s defiance against the world wasn’t enough, and he had to give way to disappointment. It was silly, perhaps irrational, but even when it was senseless, Otabek knew a small part of him always wanted Yuri to get his way.
He finished the ponytail and leaned around to briefly press a kiss to the edge of Yuri’s jaw. He flinched in surprise, lost in thoughts that Otabek needed terribly to rip him from.
“Go, then,” he said and nudged him forward.
~
Otabek was caught in the throes of hoping they wouldn’t have heating problems as he dried off. Even with heat blowing in steadily from the vents, there was a certain chill to the winter air that stayed in the corners. The kind that snuck up on you when you were sitting still and laid just beyond the bed covers as you slept. Even now while immersed in shower steam, he could feel it edging in.
He opened the door, sweatpants and t-shirt adorned for the sake of the one day he didn’t have to dress to go out, and was met with a swathe of cold over his skin. It felt like the front door must be wide open, and Otabek’s immediate fear was that the furnace had died after all.
He started from the bathroom in a hurry and went down the hall. His heart sank as the temperature only seemed to grow colder. Today of all days for a heating failure.
“Yuri? Why is it so cold?” He turned a corner into the kitchen; the chill had laid over to freezing at this point. Otabek’s shower heat barely clung to his skin.
He stopped walking.
He was met with the sight of Yuri mid-spin in the air. In their kitchen. Otabek noticed, to his horror, that the kitchen window was wide open.
Yuri’s feet came down with a slight thud. His socks slipped a little and Otabek winced, but Yuri had his grace wound tight. He came to a stop, lightly, then brushed back his hair. As if he could possibly be sweating, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
Then he whirled to notice Otabek. His face was flushed, be it from his sock skating or being caught doing so. “Oh!” He opened his mouth and then closed it fast without even an attempt at another word.
Otabek blinked. He didn’t know whether to laugh or pretend this was a totally normal thing to walk into. “What are you doing?”
Yuri didn’t answer for a whole second or two before saying, voice meek, “Just some stretches?”
“You… are practicing.”
The open window was screaming with the cold pouring inside and the heat sucking out. Every part of Otabek cried to slam it shut, but he was stuck gaping at his positively mad boyfriend.
Yuri used it as an excuse to turn away from Otabek. He reached out to shut the window, and at least that stopped Otabek’s worrying some. The heater was kicked on, running loud and proud.
“Don’t make fun of me, okay?” Yuri pouted. He faced Otabek again with crossed arms. One socked-foot was tracing idle patterns onto the linoleum.
Otabek tried not to indulge the part of himself that was in love with this eclectic side of Yuri. Because he was positively wild, so much that he’d make his own living space a damned ice rink to get what he wanted. Agh, but that wasn’t the point of a day off...
Yuri eyed him suspiciously as Otabek pushed the silence on. His hair shone in that brilliant winter light coming in, but it left his face darkened.
Otabek stepped forward, shaking his head. Yuri didn’t say anything as Otabek stroked hair from his face.
“We don’t need to talk about that,” Otabek smiled. “But today I’m going to show you how to accept a day off.”
Yuri’s pout from earlier returned. He sighed, bouncing on his socks a little while he appeared to think, and Otabek couldn’t help but wonder if he was really searching for an argument right now.
“Well then… just promise that if it’s still bad tomorrow, you’ll look into helping me get to a rink.”
“... Of course.”
Yuri’s pout faded a little. He wrapped arms around himself and looked abashed. He looked so well in the bright snow light coming in the windows. Otabek swallowed hard.
Yuri said, “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”
“We’ll start there.” Otabek moved to set water to boil, his first idea being put into motion.
“What? You going to make oatmeal?” Yuri teased. Otabek ignored him, and Yuri hushed when he pulled a box of hot cocoa mix from the cabinet. If he’d been prepared for this he could have even had marshmallows.
Yuri watched him, wordless, like maybe he’d never even seen hot cocoa being made before. Perhaps he hadn’t.
The chill was pushing out of the room by the time it was done. Yuri’s arms eventually fell from their small capture of warmth and he leaned over the mugs. Sweet steam rose. There was no way Yuri wouldn’t love this. And who knows? The sugar might force some cheer into him.
“So when did we actually get mix for this?”
Otabek shrugged. “I think I threw it in the cart one day on impulse.” He pressed the mug into Yuri’s hand and gave him a confident smile. He’d gone a whole ten minutes without mentioning ice skating. So good so far.
“I probably shouldn’t drink stuff like this, it’s not good for me.”
Otabek let the statement float by.
~
They drank their cocoa on the couch with the TV on low. Some random channel was playing a holiday special cartoon, but Otabek was focused on Yuri’s expressionless face as he drank.
There’s some dry commenting on the cartoon, some of Otabek suggesting what they could do today where the only response was a tired shrug. Otabek started to flail a little inside. His intention was definitely not to let Yuri be miserably bored all day.
Yuri must’ve found some treat at the bottom of his cup because he suddenly gave Otabek a sugar-sweet kiss on the mouth before reiterating his surrender. “Fine, you win.” He set his mug on the coffee table. He took Otabek’s for him, too.
A little flustered, Otabek only managed, “I - what?”
Yuri picked himself up and then fell onto the couch on his side, feet in Otabek’s lap. “Can’t think of a way out of it still. You win.”
Ah, of course he’d been arguing with himself that whole time.
Yuri tucked one of the decor pillows under his head. “You know,” he said. “One thing I hate about staying in is that it always makes me tired. Even if I just woke up.”
Otabek took a blanket draped over the couch and pulled it over Yuri. “That’s because you probably are tired.” He tucked it under Yuri’s sides, and when he folded it around his feet over his lap, Yuri jerked and buried his face in his pillow to muffle a laugh. Then he groaned. Otabek said nothing but bit his lip to pull down his grin.
Otabek brought out his phone for entertainment, but went for the weather app first. It was a good time to check on just how bad this winter storm was going to be without Yuri nosing for information.
Yuri chimed back in with an attempt at resistance yet again. He sounded tired, though, perhaps already half gone. “... I don’t want to sleep.”
“Shhh.” He pat Yuri’s leg, and there was no response after that.
But Otabek frowned at what he was seeing on his phone. There was a lot more snow coming for them.
~
Yuri stirred a little later and seemed regretful of it. He curled in on himself, thus pulling his legs off Otabek’s lap. Then he tried stretching out again, curled up, rolled over; Otabek watched in amusement, unable to read on his phone while being jostled by Yuri’s kicking until at last he flopped onto his back and sighed.
Otabek dropped his phone somewhere in the pool of blankets and lifted himself onto the couch. Yuri narrowed his eyes and asked in an accusatory way, as if it might be Otabek’s fault, “Why am I so tired?”
He only responded with a mild hum and took Yuri by the hips. He tugged him down and underneath him, and Yuri yelped, startled, but then rolled his eyes. "I said I'm tired!"
"Then sleep."
He leaned down and kissed him, and kissed him again until Yuri stopped stubbornly pursing his lips. Otabek combed fingers through Yuri's hair, traced around his ear and felt Yuri's hands tighten on his shoulders. The last time they'd just... had a moment felt so far away. And this was nice. It was nice to be kissing him and tugging his lip and running a hand down his side without the inkling pretense of them needing to hurry. To stop, keep going, do something because there were other things to be done, or they needed to get to sleep or be somewhere else.
Yuri couldn't be faulted for those times, either. Otabek felt too, and often, the general dizziness of a day in their life.
Yuri gripped Otabek's shoulders a little harder but pushed away, then held him at that distance. He glared like he'd just had something undone he was trying hard to keep together, and it was lovely.
"We're going to do something," Yuri declared. Otabek backed away enough that Yuri could sit upright. His blanket fell to the floor as he crossed his legs and stared in resolute seriousness at Otabek.
"And what is that?" Otabek took the blanket from the floor and shook it out. He laid it back across the couch, thinking about how what he wanted was to keep kissing Yuri. All day, right here. Yeah, that would be nice.
"You're going to choose something. I'm not going to lay in the bed all day. Or the couch, whatever." He threw back the hair from his face and crossed his arms. "Wake me up."
~
Otabek scooped the snow from their deck rail and table, careful not to scrape any dirt up. He had set Yuri to the task of whisking milk, sugar, and vanilla extract into a bowl, which he’d set about while teasing Otabek over the silliness of whatever they were doing, as well as complaining, “Good god, not more sugary crap.”
Otabek was surprised he couldn’t guess it, but was pleased by Yuri’s blank expression when he declared he was going to retrieve their final ingredient - snow. At least he seemed intrigued now as he stood from the doorway watching.
Well, Otabek thought he was watching. When he’d collected enough clean snow in a bowl to return to the kitchen, he turned to find Yuri grinning a little madly at a trembling Potya standing frozen just beyond the door. Snow covered the whole of her legs and went up to her furry little chest. She already had little balls of ice stuck in her tufts.
“She just pounced out here,” Yuri explained. “Look at her, she hates it too.”
Otabek rolled his eyes but laughed. The poor thing seemed frozen in the shock of the cold more than the cold itself. “Has she never been in the snow before?”
“I never thought to let her out when it snowed.” Yuri bent down and plucked his cat from the white like a snowdrop. She took the opportunity to scramble from his arms and jump inside.
“I’m sorry, Potya!” Yuri called. “Oh no, she’s got it all over her.” He chased after her, and Otabek followed him through the doorway, shutting it. They really needed to stop letting openings hang open. The apartment had a chill about it again.
“Yuri, we have to finish making this before it melts.” He dumped the snow into the bowl Yuri had mixed and picked up the whisk. Maybe this was a little silly, and maybe this wouldn’t even be good - he had only made it once or twice when he was little in Almaty.
Yuri came to his side, Potya curled in his arms, and peered into the mix of ingredients. It smelled sweet - almost sickly sweet, Otabek thought, but Yuri liked sweet things despite his complaining, and he just hoped -
“Oh my god! It’s ice cream!” Potya bounded from his arms at his outburst. Yuri bent forward over the bowl. “I’ve never heard of doing this before. Where did you learn this?”
Relief swept Otabek. He huffed laughter that was half a sigh. “I made it once when I was little.”
“This would have been so much cooler than Grandpa’s neapolitan in a box.” Yuri started retrieving bowls and spoons from cabinets and drawers. “I didn’t realize snow days were about eating and drinking so much sugar.”
Otabek spooned them out equal amounts - or he maybe gave Yuri a tiny bit more. “Same, to be honest. I hope it’s good.”
Yuri plopped a spoonful in his mouth, swallowed, and exclaimed, “YES!” He paused around another mouthful, glancing around them as if realizing where he was. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall.
With a jab of his spoon through the air, he said, “Still got a lot of time to fill.”
~
“No one has cleared our street yet,” Yuri remarked. He stood at the living room window, staring out as if mourning a lost pet. “And it’s snowing again.”
And that was when Otabek dropped Yuri’s winter coat over his head, under which Yuri flailed. “Hey!” He looked at Otabek pulling on his own coat and asked, “What, are we going somewhere?”
“Yes, to the rink.”
The coat he’d just handed over was used to swat him. “Not funny!”
Otabek smirked and pushed it back to him. “We’re just going outside.”
He began yanking the sleeves on, begrudging and mumbling. “Are you going to make me play in the snow?”
Otabek shrugged. “Get your gloves on.”
Outside it was starting to snow rather heavily again, which was honestly lovely for the mood, even if Otabek remained subtly concerned about the weather. He tried to shake the worry from himself. It was pointless, for it only make him a hypocrite while he tried to get Yuri to stop fretting.
The flakes were the fluffy kind. From their deck they watched a plow scrape and rumble past as it cleared another street; the snow spraying from its sides was a grey slush.
Their own street remained still and pure - the pretty side of a snow day. It was when the plows would come, when the snow was dirty, when it was far too cold for it to melt but the world was alive enough that one had to go about their normal day, that winter turned ugly.
Yuri stared at the messy path left by the plow. He thought he saw Yuri understand this too, because he didn’t look quite excited by the evidence of the city attempting to thaw itself out. His thoughtful expression fell into one of determination as he turned on their patch of deck snow, now well-trampled.
“I’m going to make a snow Potya,” he declared, stepping forward to take a huge wallop of snow off their table into his hands.
A nice bit of warmth filled Otabek’s chest. That was so cute - much better than the typical snowman they’d set out to make.
In the end, it was quite a work of art, and Otabek told Yuri so, to which he received a pretty hard shove.
“Nothing can match Potya’s beauty, okay?” Yuri argued during his struggle to reattach a part of Snow Potya’s head. It fell again, and then part of the body.
Yuri was determined. It was snowing a little harder now, but he just buried his face further into his scarf. Otabek was cold, but certainly wasn’t going to waste this opportunity to watch Yuri struggle to create a snow version of his cat. He may never get this opportunity again.
“There.” They took a step back to revel in the glory that was Snow Potya, standing stoic and white on their deck table.
“Lovely, Yura,” Otabek affirmed. He took Yuri’s hand, only realizing how the cold had seeped through his gloves when his fingers were nearly too stiff to close. Yuri shivered and leaned against Otabek.
“Inside?” he suggested.
“Yeah, let’s get warm.” But Otabek took a moment to face Yuri; he gazed down at his pink-tinged cheeks and reddened nose. His expression - with those brilliant eyes - was so stark amongst the wrap of his scarf and the hat pulled down over his head. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
Yuri narrowed his eyes, then pushed up off his toes just briefly enough to kiss Otabek real quick. He was caught well off-guard, but then it was over, and Yuri was burying his head in his chest, all shivery with arms wrapped around him. “Cold, I said!”
~
“Cold!” Yuri was still complaining when they’d changed. He dove into their bed, buried himself in the blankets and squirmed there as if the friction would rejuvenate him. “Otabek! I don’t know how I ice skate but can’t stand the snow.”
“I wonder that, too.” He rubbed his hands together, as they were still a little frozen, and laid down with Yuri. He was just about to lift the blankets over himself when the light blinked off, and the subtle whirring of electricity faded out.
Yuri stilled. Otabek froze with the blanket half lifted. They waited in that stilted silence, hoping, holding their breath… but nothing happened.
“Shit,” Yuri muttered. Otabek first thought of them not having charged phones for tomorrow. Then he thought about the heat.
Otabek dropped the blanket and just fell there, defeated. “Yeah.”
Yuri laid there for one small, resigned second. The light beyond their window was back to the soft white glow of when they woke up. It would’ve been a lovely light to nap in - and they’d almost done just that. If only. Even now, the bed felt so comfortable. But he needed to figure out what to do, call the power company, something… Damn. The day had been so nice.
Yuri heaved himself out of bed. “All right then, let’s get working.”
“Wait, what?” A tad dazed, he watched Yuri walk across the room to their closet and start pulling out sweatshirts and pants.
“Gotta stay warm. Heavier clothes.” He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and brushed back his hair. He threw clothes at Otabek.
Otabek started pulling them on without argument. “Yuri?” he prodded as Yuri began drawing the curtains.
“We have to do everything we can to conserve heat.”
He blinked. “Yeah, of course.” Closing the curtains. That made sense. Yuri pulled his phone out and searched on it a moment. “Grab some old towels or blankets,” he said as he put it to his ear.
So Otabek blindly went about gathering those from the closet and bathroom while Yuri casually spoke to what was presumably the electric company. “Outage,” he said. Then their address. “Ah, okay. How long will it take? … Okay.”
Otabek was before him with blankets and towels loaded in his arms. The expression Yuri wore when hanging up was one of disappointment, and he braced himself for the news.
“Lots of power outages all day. He said they’ve already got a few hours of work they’re tied up in. Plus, it’s going to keep snowing for a while.”
Otabek thought back to the weather updates he’d checked earlier. Consistent snow - heavy snow - until midnight. This was what he’d been afraid of.
“Well, come on.” Yuri shook his head and made his way out of the room. Otabek trailed after him like a clueless child, arms still stuffed with blankets and towels. “Let’s get ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Yuri stopped at the hallway closet and opened the door with a squeak on its hinges. “The cold.” That still wasn’t a real answer.
He dug his arms into blankets on the shelves and began hauling some out. They were old - clean, but Otabek recognized the one they used in Potya’s carrier for the vet.
They were thrust into his arms among the others as if Yuri had decided what he’d collected before wasn’t enough. “Put these against the bottom of the front and deck door. Gotta block the draft.”
Otabek blinked wordlessly yet again. But that made sense too. So he nodded and marched off to fulfill his duty. He couldn’t feel a draft coming through either door, but he supposed the cold would seep in anyhow.
When he’d scooted the blankets nice and snug into the bottom of the deck door, he turned around and nearly ran into Yuri skipping through the apartment drawing all the curtains. “Get the flashlights from the kitchen drawer!” he called out. “Candles too, if we have any!”
They sealed up the apartment, even shut all the doors inside, until the place felt lonely and dark. With a note of finality, Yuri threw a heap of their nicer blankets onto the couch. On the floor was a pile of flashlights and batteries next to a case of water bottles. Otabek thought it might be a bit extreme, but when he peaked beyond the curtains and saw the whirlwinds of snow whiting out his view, he was grateful for Yuri’s determined preparation.
“Grandpa lived at the edge of town. Our power went out a couple times a winter, and we were usually the last to get it back on,” Yuri explained over the flick of a lighter. He lit the candles they’d found, which was a random assortment of scented and unscented. “So we adapted.”
Considering the pile of blankets on the couch, Otabek wondered aloud, “Will we be sleeping out here?”
Yuri set a candle down on the TV stand, then turned and grinned. “Yeah, best to consolidate heat in one place and stay there. That’s why we shut all the inside doors. It’ll be like a sleepover, yeah?”
“Uh, sure. Guess you’re teaching me a snow day tradition of sorts, now…”
“It’s like that, isn’t it?”
If the room had seemed dim and solemn before, nothing compared to having candles flickering on every surface. The little lights shot oblong, huge shadows all over, like ghosts moving across the ceiling and walls. It was as if Yuri had turned their living room into some sort of wintry hallowed ground.
But then Yuri was there billowing blankets out across the couch with eyes alight and proud. He had the same expression as when he’d been building Snow Potya. Adorable and good.
They bundled down into the blankets together. It wasn't awful yet, but the cold was beginning to bleed into the place. Otabek could feel it just a little beyond his sweats. He and Yuri, funnily enough, placed a lap desk between themselves and settled on playing cards as best they could with the scant light provided by flutters of candlelight.
Go Fish was a poor go-to, and soon they were putting their phones on power-saving mode and searching for better card games. And it turned out that Yuri was quite good at card games.
"Nertz!" he yelled with a slap of his hand on the cards so hard that Otabek jumped. The desk was nearly upended with the cards. "Won again!"
It was pretty much the same with every game they played: they'd learn a game, spend a few rounds on equal awkward grounds, and then suddenly Yuri was a pro.
Yuri squinted at their tally of points scribbled onto some scrap paper. Otabek was sure he'd won this game of Rummy, but alas, Yuri said, "Oh, nope, you're actually ten behind me."
Yuri was wildly competitive. Otabek knew this, of course - Yuri was a figure skater, a gold medalist, a champion and all that. But somehow he seemed more violent about his competitiveness here and now, with a deck of old cards between them.
"WON AGAIN!" Yuri yelled with arms flung high. A few cards slipped away into the dark.
"Thank god," Otabek said. "I can barely see anymore."
Yuri smirked at him and teased, "You're just tired of losing!" But he cleared the cards up in a single swoop and set them and the lap desk down.
He shifted to lean into Otabek. "It is getting dark," Yuri whispered, and Otabek wrapped arms around him. "Despite everything, I was hoping that the power would come back before nighttime."
It was getting colder, too, but they didn’t mention that. Their candles burned low and Otabek wondered if they should have waited to light them until full dark. Not that they were doing much to warm the place at all, but it was easy to believe they were. Yuri shivered in his arms; Otabek frowned.
"Want me to get you anything?" he asked. Yuri shook his head. They stayed silent for a while. Nothing but them and the cooling dark. Two ghosts in candlelight.
If the roads weren't impossible to traverse, he would recommend they get a hotel. Logically he knew that they would be okay, but it worried Otabek to feel Yuri shiver against him again, only to vainly nudge himself closer. If Yuri got sick from this - well, that would be different than missing a day or two of practice because of snow. He'd be devastated.
Otabek lifted his phone over Yuri to check the time. Only just past 7. He needed to find something for them to do.
"Yuri," he shook his shoulder. "You awake?"
"Hm?"
Yuri rose up. His air was ruffled again. Otabek began fixing it idly while he spoke. "Wanna watch a movie?"
Yuri rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I think we're lacking like, the ability to turn on a TV?"
"I bet my laptop has enough battery for a couple hours. And I have movies on there." In the silence between his words and Yuri's response, the wind gave a shrill whistle from outside. Yuri glanced toward the window warily, then looked back to Otabek. He nodded. "Yeah, let's try that." Another pause. Then, a little pathetically, he added, "The heat from the laptop will be nice."
~
They cocooned in blankets side-by-side with the laptop on each of their adjacent legs. It was only Otabek's hands cold at this point. Next to him, Yuri seemed a little recovered.
They settled on a cult classic, The Thing , only because the moment Yuri saw it in Otabek's downloads he couldn't let go of how perfect a movie it was for the moment. “It’ll be extra scary because we’re forced to be in the cold dark!”
Otabek thought that was a reason not to watch such a thing, but the decision seemed made when Yuri pushed Otabek’s hand away from the touchpad and clicked the movie.
He grabbed Otabek's hand the moment it started and they moved them under the top blanket together.
So at least that hand wouldn't freeze.
~
At its end they were not only struggling for warmth, but also spooked. It was deep dark outside as the winter night set in full. Yuri clung to Otabek’s side and Otabek felt none too easy about their situation. It’d been a bad idea to get themselves jumpy from that ridiculous movie.
Yuri set the laptop away for them. It was about dead anyway.
“What’s wrong?” Yuri asked upon observing Otabek a long moment through the dark.
“Ah, nothing.” He tried to look away, but Yuri caught the side of his face. His hands were probably cold but Otabek couldn’t tell.
“Liar.”
“I’m not-“ And with a whoosh of a hundred fluffy blankets, Yuri knocked him into the couch. It was hardly a real knock over because they just leaned into a mound of blankets. Yuri threw one over their heads, laughing in a way that made him sound a little maniacal.
“You’re scared we’re going to freeze to death!” He said it like a taunt, as if it would be funny, and Otabek ignored the accusation and tried to unravel from the web of polyester-cotton and Yuri. Yuri laid his head on his chest with a whiny, “Nooo.”
So Otabek acquiesced. “I’m not scared,” he said, “I’m just… irritated the power hasn’t come back on.”
He couldn’t see Yuri, and so his lack of response was unnerving.
“What about you? Do you not care?”
Yuri laughed, soft, breathy laughter of resignment. “I mean yeah, it’d be nice to cook a hot meal. But it’ll get fixed.” It was hard to breathe under the blanket. Otabek tossed the top back off them and Yuri didn’t fight it.
He thought about Yuri’s change in demeanor. “Not even worried if you have to miss skating again tomorrow?”
A pause a few seconds long, and Otabek thought he pushed too far and that maybe the reality of this hadn’t hit Yuri yet. He started to apologize, take it back, but Yuri hushed him.
“I realized over the course of the day I will not forget a lifetime of training and months of practicing in one day. Or two.”
With pursed lips and eyes to the almost invisible ceiling, Otabek considered this. And then he smirked; despite the dark, it laced itself into his voice as he said, “So I was right?”
Yuri thwacked his shoulder.
“Well?” Otabek prodded.
Yuri lifted himself just high enough to kiss Otabek. And this time he didn’t steal away too soon.
Otabek kissed him back, between the scoops of blankets and the cold. There was warmth where Yuri’s hands grazed, then shiver. And it was so dark. The last of the candles burned low enough that Yuri was just a figure over Otabek, kissing his mouth and down his jaw. God, it was tempting to chase the small bursts of warmth Yuri provided.
He cut his fingers through his hair. Yuri sighed against his neck and stayed there until he said, “Thank you for today.” It was a whisper, breathy and warm against Otabek’s neck and hell there was that shiver again.
Otabek’s heart beat hard and he whispered to the pale shadows, “I feel like I should be thanking you .”
Yuri snickered. “Don’t make fun of me.” He lifted himself enough to lay at Otabek’s side, and Otabek moved against the couch back to give them both room. They both grabbed the nearest blanket and tugged it over themselves better.
“I’m not. You’re quite... handy in emergencies.”
Yuri wriggled closer. “Maybe.”
Otabek wanted to kiss him long and so much, but they were both tired. The cold beyond their bubble and the coziness of the couch pulled them down. It was kinda nice here in a space where they had no obligation but to keep warm together.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow they would figure out where to go. How to beat the winter and the no-skating-practice and all their icy demons.
Yuri’s grip on Otabek loosened as his breathing slowed, and then Otabek felt himself slipping away too. He fell deep into their space of warmth, and it was cheesy as hell, but Otabek fell asleep thinking about how much he loved this man, with his vibrant passion and intelligent calm. He really freaking loved him.
~
The light of the goddamn sun, or something like it, blasting into Otabek’s eyes sent him awake. He startled first, then blinked warily. Where was he?
He recognized the couch underneath him and then felt Yuri against him. Right, the snow. The power.
The cold - wait. The blissful sound of the heater rattled from the vents.
“Yuri!” Otabek shook his shoulder. He almost regretted it: Yuri’s face was serene and calm. It was a sin to stir that beauty, but this was important, so he called a little louder.
Yuri stirred just as put off by the brightness. His understanding hit faster, and suddenly he was scrambling to sit up. “The power is back!”
“Yeah, what time is it?”
They sat up and threw blankets about for the nearest phone. They found Yuri’s. It was 5:30 am. Not even light outside yet, but the lights inside were bright and strong, and Otabek had never been so elated by fluorescents.
“We’re gonna live! See?” Yuri flashed a grin. Otabek reached out to grab him into a hug, but Yuri jumped right beyond his fingertips, laughing, and went toward the window. Otabek followed.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked as Yuri pressed his face into the glass and cupped hands around his eyes. “Doomsday?”
“They plowed our road!”
“Really?” He nudged in next to Yuri. Sure enough, barely visible but enough so in the glitter of snow under lamplight, was their street with the snow all shoved to the curbs.
“They worked through the night,” Otabek said. “Wow. And it stopped snowing.”
“Yes! I can practice!” Yuri cheered, but pulled back after a punch to the air. “I mean,” he glanced at Otabek. “It’ll be nice to skate again.”
Otabek reeled him into a hug, kissed just above his ear, and whispered, “And practice your quad sal, too. It’s been getting weak.”
“Hey!”