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Yuri woke up first – an unusual occurrence.
Most days, early bird Otabek was the first to awaken, sneaking out of bed while Yuri was still asleep to start preparing breakfast. However, that morning, there was no pleasing aroma of brewing coffee to rouse Yuri from his slumber, only a few beams of faint sunlight filtering through the thin tiger-striped curtains covering the window.
Yuri wondered what time it was. His alarm had yet to ring, so it had to be fairly early. Still bleary-eyed, he extended his arm toward his nightstand and felt around for his phone.
Instead, his hand wrapped around something...cube-shaped?
Yuri sat up to examine the small box that most certainly was not there when he had fallen asleep the previous night. He recognized the signature Tiffany blue even before he noticed the company’s monogram on top. What the…? With shaking fingers, Yuri pried open the box and let out a gasp.
Nestled in black velvet was a gold band accented with a small baguette diamond.
He glanced beside him on the bed. Otabek was still asleep on his stomach, his face turned in the opposite direction. At another time, he might have let his eyes linger on the exposed muscles of Otabek’s back, maybe even trailed some light kisses down his spine in a bid to awaken him, but he was far too impatient for answers. Yuri reached over and shook his bare shoulder.
“Beka, Beka! Wake up!”
Slowly, Otabek lifted his head from the pillow and craned his neck to look at Yuri. His voice was low and husky as he mumbled, “Yura? What time is it?”
“What’s this?” Yuri asked, shoving the box right in front of his face.
Letting out a soft yawn, Otabek rubbed the sleep out of his right eye. “It’s a ring, isn’t it?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Obvious.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “What I meant was…” He inhaled, once again staring down at the ring. Christmas and Valentine’s Day had long passed, as had his 21st birthday in March. He was fairly certain today wasn’t any kind of special anniversary either, so if Otabek was giving him a ring – a very expensive ring – out of the blue, then… “Is this supposed to be an engagement ring?”
Otabek flipped over on his side to face Yuri, propping himself on his elbow. The barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“That depends. Do you want it to be?”
“I…”
For once, Yuri was speechless.
Marriage.
That was kind of a big deal. They had never really talked about it before, other than as a joke when he accidentally caught the bouquet at Mila’s wedding last summer. (Yuri still swore that she aimed for him on purpose, the hag. He had been standing nowhere near where the group of single ladies (and a couple of guys) had gathered behind her, finding the whole tradition to be utterly ridiculous.) To be honest, he had never really thought of himself as the marrying type.
Then again, he never thought he would be the type to fall in love, either, yet here he was, naked in the bed he had shared with his best friend for the past two years – the two happiest years of his life. He loved Otabek; he had absolutely no doubt about that. He couldn’t even imagine a future without Otabek in it. Yuri wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, but still..
It was a big fucking deal.
“Hey, it’s okay if you need more time to think about it,” Otabek said in a soft voice, placing his hand on Yuri’s thigh and kissing his bicep. “You don’t need to give me an answer right away. I know I kind of sprung this –”
“No.”
“No?” Otabek moved to a sitting position, his brow furrowed. “No, as in you don’t want –”
“No, as in I don’t need more time,” Yuri clarified, giving the box back to Otabek. “Ask me properly.” He didn’t want them to be like Viktor and Yuuri, the idiots who had spent over a month debating if they were really engaged after their ring exchange in Barcelona until Viktor put the argument to rest once and for all by officially proposing after Yuuri won his first Four Continents title.
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
Otabek started to climb out of bed, Yuri reaching for his arm. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Getting down on one knee,” he said, a rarely seen mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes. “You said to ask you proper—”
“Oh, my god, just ask me the damn question, Beka! You don’t have to make a whole production over it.”
“Fine.” He sat back down, his body fully turned toward Yuri, and reached for his left hand. To Yuri’s surprise, Otabek’s own hand was slightly shaking. He took a long moment to compose himself, closing his eyes as he inhaled a deep breath. “Yuri Nikolayevich Plisetsky,” Otabek said when he finally opened them again, “will you marry me?”
“Yeah,” Yuri said, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a big deal, yet the answer turned out to be surprisingly simple. “Yeah, I’ll marry you.”
Grinning, Otabek took the ring out of the Tiffany blue box and slipped it on the ring finger of Yuri’s left hand. It was a perfect fit, the morning light bouncing off the tiny diamond embedded in the center of the band. Otabek brought Yuri’s hand to his mouth and kissed the ring, bringing a warmth to Yuri’s cheeks.
I’m gonna marry this man, he thought, moving to straddle Otabek’s lap and kissing him passionately on the mouth.
Needless to say, they were very much late for practice.