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{Fly safe today! Watch out for whack jobs in the airport I'm not there to save you …}
[I wish you were coming with me. It’s going to be so boring being there two weeks before hand.]
{You should have just asked, Yura. I would have cheered you on. No poms poms tho}
[Would you have come? Please come!]
{Where are you staying?}
[In Hanno. I don’t know the name I’ll send a link.]
{You want me to buy a last minute plane ticket to Tokyo? Have you seen these rates?}
[Yeah yeah yeah I know. But it's me! :( You want to see me win gold, right? AGAPE.. Beka Style]
{For all the money in my bank account?? >:[ ……. }
[I see how it is]
-
It was seven days before the World Figure Skating Championships in Saitama and Otabek arrived in Japan. He showed up, luggage in tow about a week after Yuri had arrived. On his first night in Japan, Yuri had pulled him to Tokyo. He didn't have much room for protest, he’d slept on the plane ride and spent 14 hours travelling from Altamy to Tokyo sitting, mostly. Even if he had protested, Yuri was persistent anyways and when it came to Otabek, Yuri was used to getting his way.
Yuri acted as their guide. He had been Japan once before so he was an expert now, of course. He spent the night pulling the other through brightly lit up streets and in an out of small shops. Flipping through his phone for maps and texts for Yuuri for direction. There was something about Tokyo that made Yuri buzz with excitement. The fashion of course, was one of the biggest draws. He told this to Otabek as he was ducking through a curtain and into a small clothing shop. He spent the majority of their time in the shops grabbing at clothing and modeling for Otabek who mostly watched, plain faced but amused and would occasionally nod for approval. This happened rarely, but when it did Yuri would toss it to a shop owner and start fiddling with yen.
“Don't try making me buy anything with animal print,” was Otabek's only requirement when Yuri started turning his attention to him half way through the night.
Of course Yuri wasn't going to get anything for him in cheetah. That level of cool was saved just for him, Otabek was more of a black leather and denim kind of man a fact he point out. Besides, Otabek looked good in black leather if Yuri let himself think about it for long enough. Usually, he avoided that type of thinking to stop the spiral his mind would go down as of lately. Otabek had been back in Kazakhstan for a while now, and certainly that’s the only reason Yuri had been thinking of him so much. Obviously, what else could it be? They were friends, after all. It really did suck to be away from a friend with such great distance between.
They trailed down a tight alleyways, already starting to become over encumbered with bags. Yuri was holding Otebek's arm at the elbow and chattering as they walked. Bright paper lanterns hung from the buildings around them. Joyful, finally after weeks of lonely training, Yuri whispered: “I'm glad you came.”
They made their way back to the hotel a few hours later, taking several minutes to get up to Yuri's room to drop off his bags. They stayed there, sharing bags and purchases, Yuri stealing a bottle of rice wine that Otabek was finally old enough to buy. They sat at the edge of the bed, crime documentaries drawling through the television and shared sake until Yuri’s cheeks turned pink.
His eyes were shining in the dim light of the television and they were looking up at Otabek curiously.
“Hey, lay down with me Beka. You must be tired, you're like 10 floors down, just stay here tonight?”
Otabek hesitated until Yuri pouted and insisted, which was usually how Yuri ended up getting his way. They turned the tv low, but kept it on. It’s colors danced across as they faced each other. Yuri reached out for his pillow and snuggled closer. The world was warm, fuzzy and he ended grabbing a fist full of Otabek’s shirt and pressing his face into a bicep. He stayed there and under his hand Otabek's body was strangely still.
“Yura,” he spoke softly into the space between them “I - I don't know if I can just be your friend anymore. I need - I want to be more than that.” Yuri's eyes were already closed, his fingers still twisted into the other man’s shirt, his head so dizzy from saké he didn’t hear all the words. He reached up and sloppily covered Otabek's mouth with a finger.
“Shhh, Beka. Sleep now. This tiger is tired.”
Otabek turned slightly towards him, curled his hand into the dip of Yuri’s waist and let his eyes close too. His breath was slow, long, as if he was trying to focus only on that. It tickled the strands of hair on Yuri's forehead.
...
The next morning they didn't talk about it. When Yuri had woken up against his chest they were still in top of the covers, Otabek's arms curled around him. For a moment he wanted to just lay there, nuzzle in and go bad to sleep until his mind started to wake up enough to tell him this was not something most friends do. This was maybe something Victor and Yuuri did. Otabek wasn't most friends but he didn't feel like processing what that meant right now. He untangled himself as quickly and quietly as he was able then leaned over to gently shake him awake.
Groggy, Otabek's arms closed in for a moment before he realized there was nothing there. Yuri didn't know why seeing this made his heart leap to his throat, so he looked away and started rambling about find milk tea in the area.
After tea, Yuri spent the next several hours bored alone in his hotel room, flipping through his phone and messing around with photo filters. It hadn’t been long, but Beka’s absence was already leaving him annoyed. He was looking for any excuse to go back and bother him when he received a call from Victor Nikiforov.
“Hey, Otabek!” Yuri banged on the hotel door moments later, not really considerate of anyone down the hall. “Let me in, it’s Yuri!”
Yuri was still banging when the door opened. He stumbled forward, and reached out his hand and came in contact with bare skin. Otabek was toweling his hair and scowling. He looked down at Yuri’s hand but didn't move. The blond yanked back quickly and threw his hands into his sweatshirt pockets.
His cheeks burned, “Uh look, everyone wants to go to dinner tonight. Some place Pig is suggesting.”
“Everyone, who?”
“I’m not sure. Victor and Pork Roll have come into town to watch and are insisting.”
Otabek waved him in. “You couldn’t have called? You’ve been hollaring so loud the guys next door are probably going to murder me in my sleep. I could barely get pants on.”
“You should always be prepared if I want to come around. So do you want to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish getting dressed.”
Yuri came in an sat down on the edge of his bed. His eyes were decidedly fixed on the floor as Otabek changed. Last night was not something that had happened between them before. Sure, they had fallen asleep in the same bed a few times over the years but never like that. So, was that something they did now? They didn’t say anything, and now Yuri could feel himself turning red thinking about it. The room suddenly felt hot when he started to remember how one of his legs was snaked between Beka's.
When they got downstairs, Yuri grabbed them juice boxes from the nearest machine and hailed a cab to get them downtown. It was a short ride and when they got out of the taxi, they were in the middle of a street strung with decorative lights. There was a small garden in the park ahead, with an arching bridge and calm waters. It was lit up by market lights that bounced off the pond just enough for someone to see the koi dancing inside. On the far side if the bridge was a couple, leaning in close together and watching the fish swim by. Otabek watched them for a moment before turning to Yuri. He had the same look on his face as he did before stepping on to the ice, soft but determined.
“You know,” Otabek said slowly, he slung an arm around Yuri's waist because maybe that's something they did now too. He watched Yuri sucking on his juice straw. “It’s nice around here. Almost romantic in some spots. Do you think maybe you’d like to come here?”
“Romantic?” Yuri spat out his juice. The thought of romancing someone here was the furthest from his mind. Why would he need to do that, he’d rather spent time with Otabek and explore Tokyo between practices. “Not interested, I need to focus on my training.” He was too busy wiping off his jacket to see Otabek’s face fall.
“Ah...”
“Come on, there’s Victor,” and he grabbed Otabek's arm as it started to drop and dragged him towards the restaurant. To his horror, others appeared to be joining them. Mila was there. Bubbling beside her was Sara Crispino surprisingly out for a night without her brother and over the moon about it.
“No Georgi, then? Stalking an ex lover probably?”
“Yurio!!” Victor came over and pulled Yuri into a quick hug. He leaned back and looked contemplative. “I haven’t been keeping up with my old rink-mate, actually. Yuri and I have been staying in Hatsetsu playing house at the hot springs but we couldn’t pass up coming to cheer for our little Yuratchka!”
Yuri growled and pulled away. From the corner of his eyes he could see the girls were huddled, Mila kept smirking and looking towards him and Otabek, she nudged Sara’s shoulder playfully who went red.
What the hell were they up to?
Dinner was… annoying. He should have just told Victor no and found somewhere with Beka. No one could shut up about the Katsuki-Nikiforov wedding. Yuri had planted himself to the left of Otabek but Sara had wedged in on the right and was bouncing from asking Yuuri questions about napkin colors to blushing and side eyeing Otabek half the time.
The bar was lively, full of fresh face an polite staff, vibrant menus, and a live band tucked away in the back corner. Everyone joyfully passed around sake and sake bombs; carefully skipping over Yuri who had to steal shots while Victor and Otabek weren't looking. Before long Katsuki’s ears were pink, his tie around his head, hiccupping as he leaned into his coach turned fiance.
Mila had that wistful look girls often got when talking about weddings. She rested her chin on her palms. “You hired a planner, yes? Will you choose Japan or Russia?”
“We’re getting married in Beijing, during the -hic- Olympics.”
“Yuuuuri, I don't think they'll let us get married there. We won’t be waiting that long.”
Yuuri wasn't listening. He was seemingly attempting to mesh his body against Victor's completely.
“That sounds so lovely! We're all being invited, right?” Sara was gushing, she glanced an Otabek shiftily. Yuuri nodded against Victor's shoulder, his eyes closing from the stupor of the alcohol but he still had that stupid lovestruck grin on his face. Victor was no better of the two, his face rosey and a smile just as wide, humming softly.
“Ugh, you guys are gross.”
“Oh Yurio!” Victor was using that all knowing, soft drawl he got when it came to Yuri. “There must be someone you're pining for?”
“Not even. I don't have time that for kind of stuff.”
For the first time that night, Otabek looked at him over at him. His eyes were thin and brows pinched together. He seemed about to say something until pressing his lips into a fine line and then turning back to his donburi. Yuri almost asked him what was wrong, but drunken Yuuri was already onto the next.
“It'll happen when you least expect it! Like Vicchan and I!”
Gross.
This banter carried on mostly for the rest of the night. Everyone around Yuri getting a little drunker by the end, save for Otabek who had stopped drinking abruptly half way through the night.
Yuri was pleased when everything settle, bellies were full and checks were paid. Finally able to leave, or so Yuri thought, he grabbed Otabek at the elbow and lead him out of the restaurant. Someone shouted behind him.
Sara was running to catch up to them, she reached out to Otabek as she neared. “Hey, Otabek can I - can I have a word with you?” She looked at Yuri, as if he was supposed to know what she was up to but he stood still and arched an eyebrow in her direction. Anything someone wanted to say to Beka they could say in front of him.
She seemed hesitant and then pressed on, her cheeks a bright pink, her lips glistening with fresh gloss. Yuri thought she looked a bit like a hussy.
“Otabek, would you like to grab dinner with me tomorrow?”
Yuri was aghast. His brow furrowed and he piped forward, “What chasing after one Asian isn’t enough for you?”
Sara became beat red and Otabek was apparently ignoring Yuri’s interjections and must not have cared about his opinion at all because he shrugged and said, “sure, why not.”
Yuri’s mouth fell open. What the damn hell?! And as he watched them exchange info, he felt a burning rage start to grow in the pit of his stomach.
Otabek's was going on a date with someone. He never had been on a date since Yuri knew him. As a dutiful and frankly wonderful friend if he said so himself, Yuri should be happy. But Sara? Wasn't she into girls? Mila? Her brother? Or Seung-gil or really anyone else besides Otabek?
As they head back to the hotel, quietly an awkward discomfort in the air around them, Yuri couldn't quell this fire that was starting to build up inside of him.
...
The way back to the hotel was excruciating. Eventually, like a tea kettle finally hot enough to burst, Yuri asked Otabek what he saw in her.
“She flirts with everyone, Otabek. Do you really want that, what are you even thinking?”
“What… just because you’re not interested in anyone doesn’t mean I can’t be?”
“What does that even mean? That has nothing to do with this.”
“I’m done talking about it Yuri,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m - tired, too much socialization for me today.”
“Alright fine,” he tried breathing and calming himself slightly. It didn't work much but just enough to change the subject. He had a brief moment remembering the soft, gentle comfort of laying next to Beka as he fell asleep. The thought seemed to cool the fire a bit. “You wanna just watch a movie in my room then?”
“No, not tonight.”
Not tonight?? The kettle was whistling again. Anytime Yuri and Otabek were in the same city they hung out the majority of the time. Even when they were in different countries he was constantly getting texts and memes and videos from the man at all hours of the day. Last night they had slept in the same bed. Yuri was pouting as they entered the hotel elevator. Otabek’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the intricately tiled floor. This was all wrong and it was Sara Crispino’s fault.
He was contemplating if skating blades were sharp enough to slit throats. He got so carried away that he hadn't noticed they had come to a stop at Otabek’s floor. So, he wasn’t coming up then.
“Dobroy nochi, Yuri.” This time Otabek sounded strained instead of content and relaxed. Yuri couldn’t put his finger on it what the hell was happening. He spent the rest of the elevator ride cursing Italian figure skaters and hoping some of the rice wine he stole from Otabek was left on his nightstand.
….
When Yuri woke up the next morning, he had text from Otabek. Of course, he must have woken up, realized how silly he was being and wanted to apologize. Yuri, you are right and amazing, she is a harlet and I came here to watch you at World's. I would never want to do anything else. Come to think of it, I'm moving to Russia to stay closer to you. It would probably go something like that. When Yuri opened his phone it said simply: {Hey}
Just hey? I'm done with him! He chucked his phone across the room and started getting his things together for training.
...
Four days before championships Victor came to the rink in hopes to catch Yuri practicing, maybe give him some coachly support if Yakov would let him. He found that they were already off the ice and Yakov was storming out cursing something about a waste of time and a disgrace to Russian figure skating.
“Yakov!” he stopped him. “I thought you were training now. I - Where's Yuri?”
“Not on the ice, and not in his head that’s for damn sure. I’m not sure what’s up his ass at the moment, but his performance today is a mess. He’s going to embarrass us on national television if he doesn’t get his shit together.”
“Keep him on the ice and wear him out. He’ll come back around, this isn’t like him.”
“You and I both know when his mind is set on something he won’t listen, I’m going out for saké. Lots of it.” Then he stormed off.
Victor went to go find Yuri and spotted him in the arena lobby.
Yurio was sitting at a table by the window, chin resting on his hand and looking at a few birds outside. His face was strained as if he was clenching his teeth hard enough to crack them. There was a broken spoon on the table, oddly enough, which may or may not have been related, Victor wasn't sure. He strode over to Yuri, who barely bothered to look over, sat across from him and leaned forward.
“Yurioooo, whats on your mind? You’ve never been much of a bird watcher.”
“Leave me alone old man,” Yuri growled. “I'm not in the mood.”
“Ehhh, what's wrong? Yakov said you were in a way.” Yuri was typically, fiercely dedicated to the ice. Something was bothering him, Victor thought back trying to place what it could be. Yuri had just walked away with his second gold medal at GPF, was about to compete at World’s. What could possibly be wrong? Something slowly dawned on him, the only other thing a hormonal teen could get so worked up about.
“Oh! Isn't tonight the hot date between Altin and Crispino?”
“How do you even know that? You know, nevermind. He's an idiot,” he spat the words and inside Victor was gleeful he struck the right nerve. He pressed further, letting his words knife a little deeper.
“Well, maybe. I can't see him having much luck, hasn't she been after Seung-Gil for a while now? Didn't they go on a few dates and then he ghosted her? Hmm.. Perhaps she decided to finally settle, she seemed determine to start dating.”
“Going on a date with Otabek is not settling! I don't see what he sees in her. So she has tits? Ha! Tits are balls of fat, anyone can get fat - I can't believe he said yes to that…”
“Yurio, instead of sulking around why don't you tell him how you feel about him.”
The blonde finally looked over at him and his eyes were sharp, defensive daggers. Victor winced at the coldness of it. “What are you talking about?” he said slowly, almost a growl.
“Come on, it's quite obvious you're taken with him.”
“He's my friend.”
“Like Yuri is my friend?”
“I'm nothing like you guys! Your embarrassing public displays of affection make me sick.”
“You should tell him before it eats. you. up.” Victor enunciated each of the last three words by poking a finger into Yuri’s chest with each one.
Yuri shirked away, annoyed. “I can handle it. I'm not letting any skater other than me come between us…” He was bitter and mulling over the words. Quickly he added, “I'm not gay. Not every figure skater is gay just because you are.”
Victor was older and more worldly than Yuri was. He had plenty of time and experiences to feel more comfortable with things than a 18 year old Yuri could have.
He sighed. “Hmm, maybe not but it’s nothing to be ashamed about, Yuri. I’ve known my preference ever since I watched my first figure skating competition. You can't say it doesn't sometimes attract the more feminine of us.”
“Victor! I thought you told me the first figure skater you watched was Evgeni Plushenko??” Yurio was almost choking on the words, his face scrunched up and incredulous.
“He was! Great memory, my little Yurio,” Victor chimed.
“Your first crush was on PLUSHENKO?” he said, pressing his finger to his own nose and making a face.
“I thought he was quite charming,” Victor was staring out the window wistfully, a small smirk was on his lips. He paid Yuri’s shock no mind. Yuri slowly shook his head and seemed to think things over for a minute. He must have been grateful that the focus was back on Victor because his tone was changing back to his normal, bored drawl.
“I’m not surprised. Your taste in men is questionable at best considering your weird obsession with that Japanese piggy.”
“Don’t call my sweet little pork cutlet a pig! You wouldn’t understand I supposed. You seem to prefer your men olive skinned, broad shouldered, brooding… on a motorcycle...”
“Shut UP!” Yuri kicked the chair nearest to them clear across the lobby and stormed off.
“You'll feel better once you let your true feelings out, Yuriooo!!” Victor called out after him. There was a janitor nearby, staring in disbelief at the chair and then back to Victor who rubbed the back of his neck. “Don't mind him, I'll get it…. sorry!!!”
—-
There were only three days left before the day of his short program.
He woke up that Tuesday morning, realizing he must have overslept. His alarm was no longer buzzing and there was a bright, high sun coming through the windows. Practice yesterday had been a disaster. Yuri couldn’t get into Agape at all, and was cursing himself for sticking with that program but there was no time to make a different one before the competition. Otebek had remixed this stupid cool new version for him and now the idiot was off consorting with harlots.
He grabbed his phone to find it was already almost noon and cursed, Yakov must be pissed. They weren’t slated for practice until later than night, after yesterday he was sure the coach was expecting some sort of apology or explanation. Yuri didn’t have one.
He laid there for a moment, trying to get the sleep from his eyes and contemplating if he should eat something. As he raked his fingers through messy hair, his phone chimed.
{What are you up to?}
Otabek. He hadn’t spoken to him much over the last day. Well, more like Yuri had ignored him actively the last 24 hours. It's wasn't normal for them not to message each other all day. He had to and find a way to explain his behavior the other night.
[Nothing… I’m hungry. Lets eat!]
{I’m in Kawagoe having mochi. Wanna meet and go find noodles somewhere?}
What the fuck was he doing in getting mochi without Yuri?
[Send me your location.]
Once Yuri had the pin, he scrambled up. He threw on the nearest black pants and hoodie he could find and texted Katsuki as he slipped out the door. Japanese Yuri would know where to go, he loved to eat so much and all.
He got boba nearby before finding a taxi and lazily handed the driver his phone for the address without saying a word. His eyes weren’t ready for the sun, and he threw on large shades as he sprawled across the back seat.
This Otabek situation had to get sorted out. It wasn’t good and he was going to be damned if he let it affect his performance on Thursday. If he was determined on dating Italian jezabels well, Yuri was just going to have to find a way to manage.
The driver stopped next to a sakura park in the middle of the city and grumbled something in Japanese, which Yuri didn’t know so he just shoved a wad of yen into the drivers hand and didn’t wait for the changed before stepping out onto the pavement. He looked at his phone and headed the direction of the of the pin, down a sidewalk lined with trees and littered in petals.He kept going, and gnawed on a squishy boba as he pondered this area as a meeting place. Maybe they’d walk back through this way after lunch.
It was only a few moments before he saw Otabek down the path from him.
He was sitting at a group of tables under a low hanging cherry blossom tree. The wind was fluttering petals down into his hair, the Saitama sun shining through the branches and lighting up his face, the angles of his jaw and thick furrowed brow were striking. He was.. painstakingly beautiful. He looked like he did every day, but it was as if Yuri had just now let his mind say it out loud. For a moment, Yuri stopped and felt his breath catch in a lump somewhere in the middle of his throat. It’s obvious you’re taken with him. He stood breathless for a moment, his chest tightening until Otabek leaned back and Yuri realized that he was not alone.
Sara.
Sara.
Yuri was still transfixed to the spot. Otabek was looking down, messing with his phone. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt his pocket vibrating but he couldn’t focus on that now. It was like the world had slowed, and there was a fog that muted all noises around him. The cars and people nearby him were cloudy. Sara was getting up, laughing joyfully. She put a hand on Otabek’s shoulder, who still hadn’t turned to look up at her, and she bent down to kiss him firmly on the cheek.
There was nothing that could have brought Yuri back down to earth in that moment. He was certain that the fury in his body had transcended to another level. His hand squeezed so tightly all of a sudden that his boba exploded splattering milky tea and gelatin all over his shoes. He threw the cup down and kicked it, reaching up in a swift motion to pull over his hood and yank down on the strings. He glared on from beneath his bangs and fumed.
He must have made a sound. Maybe it was from his cup bursting and clattering down the path or from the steam coming out of his ears or the air that escaped his flared nostrils. Otabek’s head shot up and turned to look at him.
“Yuri!” He seemed flustered, cheeks a little pink as if he was embarrassed. Sara was still resting a hand on his shoulder. She was too close to him, leaning over as she turned to look over at Yuri and beamed. This was all so wrong.
“Hiii, Yuri Plisetsky! I was just heading out, I’ve got practice soon! I’m sure you’re all booked with practices too! Why are you all bundled up, it’s not too cold today? I think spring is here!”
She’s ugly he thought. What he said was: “Beka I found a ramen place near here with good reviews from Katsuki - let’s go.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. He had half a mind to turn around and leave to go back to his hotel and smash some furniture. He wasn’t even sure if he could stomach ramen right now, he was starting to feel sick.
Otabek went to gather Yuri's tea cup, giving a low wave to Sara as she split off from them. He followed after and was quiet at first, for which Yuri was glad. He wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth had Beka asked him anything.
They were down several blocks before Otabek had the courage to try and Yuri was in such a fury that other was having trouble catching up as he turned down a narrow alley to get away from traffic and cut through to the restaurant. Otabek used the turn to grab Yuri and slow him.
Yuri whipped around, a small quivering ball of emotions that he couldn't even fully place anymore. He didn't even know the last time he felt this way. Maybe it was never.
“Look, Yuri what is wrong with you?”
He was glaring at him from beneath his hood and behind shades that he was suddenly very grateful for. What was wrong? Everything was wrong. Otabek hadn't dated since they'd become friends and now he decided was the time? Yuri was here to win a medal, and now he was too busy and wrapped up in - in whatever this was. Everything was all wrong.
“Nothing.”
Otabek ran a hand through his hair, panting and looking pained. As he bit his bottom lip, Yuri quickly looked away. Otabek continued on, “well, because it seems like you have a problem that I went out with Sara.”
“Problem!? I… “ he was spluttering. “You shouldn't be seeing her, it will affect your focus!” Its effecting MY focus.
“My focus? What are you talking about? Yuri, my season is over, you’re the one competing in a few days.” Otabek watched him for a moment and seemed to be having a debate in his own head. He squinted, reached forward to remove Yuri's sunglasses and asked very plainly, “What’s your problem with her?”
Well for starters she was hardly cute. She couldn't land a quad with the same ease as Yuri and didn't have as many gold medals as him. When she laughed, it was much too shrill and when she was near boys she seemed to laugh quite a lot. The sound made Yuri want to reach back and strangle himself. She had big ears. Yuri didn’t even know where to begin, there were so many things wrong with this.
He simply frowned, tight lipped and didn't answer.
“So you just have a problem that I went out with anyone, then. Are you jealous?”
So is that what Beka thought this was all about then? That Yuri was jealous. Yuri wasn’t jealous… Yuri was mad, mad that Otabek could do this to them.
“Fuck you.”
Otabek's face darkened and he clenched his jaw. Yuri shouldn't have said that, his breathing was sharp and shallow, his body felt like it had been lit on fire. He had to leave before he said anything else stupid like it should be me you're having mochi with. He had started to turn away but Otabek grabbed both of Yuri's arms tight and rooted him to the spot.
“God, you’re so...I came all the way here for you. I thought you would have realized.. I tried…”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? You came here for me, yeah, but you want to go galavanting with girls instead! Screw you, Beka!”
“If you're this angry with me don't you think you should have asked me out yourself?”
It shocked them both, to have that hanging in the air between them. Yuri glared up at him and Beka's bottom lip quivered the smallest bit but it was the last push he needed.
He ripped his arms away, surprisingly strong for being so much smaller. Otabek looked braced for a storm but instead Yuri reached behind the taller man's head pulled him down into a hasty, furious kiss. He laced his fingers into dark, silky hair. Everything seemed still in that moment and for a brief second Yuri thought he made a mistake that was going to cost him the only true friend he had.
Otabek closed what little gap in distance they had left, pressed Yuri against the wall, one of his hands grasping the small of his back to push their bodies together, the other softening the bricks of the wall against his shoulders and he opened his mouth against Yuri's trembling lips. All the anger seemed to melt out of Yuri's body at once. Otabek was holding him so tight it almost hurt, but it didn't matter, he liked the intensity and the feeling of Beka's rib cage pinning him down. It was a moment before either of them pulled away.
“Beka…” he spoke against Otabek's mouth who started saying sorry between short kisses, trying to apologize but Yuri interrupted him.
“Shut up. It's my fault, I'm so stupid .”
“Yuri.”
“And don't ever think you're going to hear me say those words again.” Yuri let his hands fall to Otabek's chest. “I’m hungry, I accidently spilled all my boba back there.”
Otabek pressed his forehead against Yuri’s and chuckled. “Alright, let’s go.” and he kissed him again before pulling him out towards the street.
Finally, with food in front of him and Otabek next to him Yuri felt his body relax. He fussed with some chopsticks with one hand and laced his fingers with Otabek’s under the table with the other.
Beka was smirking, “I’ve wanted you to do that for a while now.”
“Oh? Well who is the one that should have ask whom out, then eh?” it was almost a purr.
“I was nervous and you’re stubborn. You’re my best friend, you’re so important to me... I didn’t want to screw it up. I’d rather wait until I was sure.”
“Sure of how you felt?”
“I knew how I felt. I didn’t know how you felt.”
Yuri looked back over the last few days, years actually, and wondered if that put a few conversations in a different light. It was a fair assessment. Yuri wasn’t sure of anything himself until now. It had been like watching Otabek with someone was a cog that clicked the rest in place. It was the answer to the question that he’d been asking himself about his feelings for the last several months.
“Oh. For how long?”
“Hmm, since I picked you up on my bike. ”
Yuri thought suddenly, to the way it felt all those times he climbed on the back of Beka's bike and held him close and how Beka seemed to take the longest way to get places. He thought of how Otabek, so reserved, had been the one to suggest the Mouth Glove removal for Exhibit Skate. When Yuri asked anything of Otebak he would do it. When Yuri had cried, frustrated after missing gold last year Otebak had held him tight until he stopped, had literally ordered a plane ticket to Japan the second Yuri had asked, had watched that couple on the bridge, said it was romantic and asked Yuri if he wanted to go there. He had held Yuri's bags all night and curled his arms around him as they fell asleep.
Fuck.
“Beka, that was two years ago… we - we'd barely talked before then.”
“It’s possible to be physically attracted to someone when you see them for this first time. I hadn’t seen you for years, I was pretty surprised to see you had gotten so… cute.”
“Cute?!”
“Yeah, frantic and hiding from your fanclub down alleyways.”
Yuri was scowling into his noodles, “First of all, I've always been cute. Second… that means we’ve missed out in a lot of time.”
“I wouldn't call any of that missing out and anyway... I can think of ways to make up for a year or two...” Otabek grinned, slid his hand across Yuri's thigh and squeezed. Yuri choked on a slice of pork. He finally decided to check his phone to distract himself from the heat suddenly spreading up his body from between his legs. There was a notification from Beka from an hour ago: Can you meet in 20? I just want to see you today...
Otabek had been texting him while having mochi with Sara. Yuri pondered for a moment, this was all so… crazy. He couldn’t think of a single person he would rather choke on ramen next to. People back home would have a fit.
“I'm don't know if I'm gay. I'm bi?” he whispered into his ramen bowl after a bit. Although he wasn’t sure if it was true. He couldn’t remember giving a damn for anyone in a long time, except for when he was younger, Victor Nikiforov. That was years ago, and he chalked it up to a silly crush. This comfort and loss of breath and tight, giddy feeling in his chest with Otabek was something entirely different.
“Well, ok,” Otabek said slowly, accepting. “So am I. So you think you'd wanna date me and Sara then?”
What the damn hell?! Yuri whipped to look at the man beside him who looked amused with himself, eyes sparkling over playfully.
“I don't share!!”
Otabek laughed now, some people in the restaurant were staring at them. “Ha! I wouldn't know you at all if I really thought you would. I just love you when you're prickly and angry.”
Yuri ignored some of that, he could only take so much in one day. Instead he crossed his arms and glared.
“You're breaking it off with her.”
“You idiot, of course I am. I know she’s still silly over Seung-Gil, anyways. She’ll be alright.”
“Seung-Gil is nothing compared to you,” Yuri was indignant. “I hope she cries for weeks.”
“Yura,” Otabek smiled, thumb was gently rubbing the inside of Yuri's leg. He must have meant it to be calming but it was anything but every nerve in Yuri's felt focused on that spot. “Sara is nothing. You’re… everything.”
Yuri chewed on some fishcake in thought, the words bringing him back down into a flutter but then Beka leaned in, lips gracing Yuri's cheek and whispered, “Come over after practice tonight. Maybe we can watch a movie, I’m sorry I ditched the other night I was… upset.”
“Bekaaa, are you…” Yuri could feel the heat moving all the way up to his face now. “Are you trying to - to Netflix and chill me??”
“So what if I am? Hey, bring those silk pajamas I always make fun of you for.”
Yuri was certain he was as pink as the funny little swirled naruto he was eating. He looked around. “We’re in public. You know I hate that shite.”
“I don't think anyone speaks Russian here, I can say what I want,” Otabek laughed as he got up to use the bathroom. Yuri took it as a time to open his feed, distracting himself from the growing warm contentment his body. He frowned then, when he saw himself tagged in a photo.
It was a picture of the two ramen bowls, but in the background Yuri could see his own face out of focus with a soft smile - an actual smile. You could see, blurry as it was, their hands connected in the bottom of the frame. Yuri hadn’t even noticed him take a photo, the idiot. He was going to kill him. The caption read: vkusno! Everything I could have asked for.
It already had 200 likes, which was probably everyone Otabek had on instragram. Yuri should have been mortified. He slunk in his chair, but couldn’t find himself to even be the slightest bit mad for once.
---
“You’re going to do great, Yuri.”
There were cameras everywhere. Flashes bouncing off of the shine of his skates as he checked to tighten them. He heard an announcer calling his name and it rang out across the arena.
“Of course I am.”
“When you skate to Agape, think of me?”
“I don’t need you to win, Altin,” but he reached over and squeezed Otabek’s hand and held it for a moment. It was all the camera’s were get from him. Then quietly he added, “I think about you all the time.”
Otabek smiled, soft and sure. “Davai, Yuri.”
Think of me. Agape, unconditional love. The idiot, of course he would think of him. After all, they had created this version of Agape together. Yuri smiled, confident, and slipped out onto the ice.