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What was Yuri Plisetsky up to?
Otabek was usually privy to everything floating through his boyfriend's mind, without prodding. His mere existence was enough to open the flood gates time and time again, and he was more than willing to root his feet and let the waves wash over him. He'd earned that spot. Planned for it. Fought for it. Well, fought was a strong word for stumbling upon—shamelessly stalking—Yuri in Barcelona, rescuing him—kidnapping … consensually. Technically—and confessing his five-year-long fascination—obsession—under the setting sun. But the point was, Otabek worked for his right to be the sole person Yuri divulged his every thought and emotion to, without hesitation.
Although, looking back on it, Otabek's grand romantic gesture had been a little to the left of setting foot into serial killer territory, but the universe was kind to his poor, awkward soul.
But for the last two weeks, Yuri had been … weird. Not exactly hiding things, but when one was accustomed to listening to a near-constant stream of consciousness from their partner, even the smallest change in that flow stuck out.
Although, since it was almost the 31st, a small amount of secretism was expected. Yuri always kept his Halloween plans quiet so he could reveal the big event in a dramatic fashion rivaling Viktor on the best of days—like last year when he filmed his entire 'murder', just to announce the theme of the party to their guest list. It was the one holiday he thoroughly enjoyed, despite it not being much of a thing in Russia beyond the modern-day youth throwing private house parties. And to Otabek's wishes, they didn't make the simultaneous falling of his special day a focal point, though Yuri always slipped a little birthday surprise into things regardless.
But Yuri wasn't giving any indication he was even preparing for Halloween aside from 'sneaking around' Otabek.
Sometimes literally.
Cheating didn't even cross Otabek's mind. He trusted Yuri with his soul. He'd rip his own heart out and leave it in Yuri's hands if he could, because sometimes, he was sure his boyfriend would take better care of it than he would himself. And since the year had rained near-hell down on the world, to the point no one would bat an eye if Cthulhu were to rise from the void, an actual holiday party was out of the question until next year.
So … what was Yuri Plisetsky up to?
A question Otabek shamefully asked Viktor. And Yuri Katsuki. And Mila … And maybe also Phichit and Chris … Possibly even Leo. But he absolutely drew the line at Jean. If he was going to break his own rule about not behaving like a child going through their parent's closet in search of hidden Christmas presents, he at very least wanted to maintain some of his dignity.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Otabek frowned, and Viktor slipped up beside his husband, purring, “You're a terrible liar.”
Yuri sighed. “Okay, fine. But I'm sorry, Beka. I can't tell you what I know. It wouldn't be fair.”
“You mean Yura would throttle you.”
“That, too.”
Viktor chuckled. “Besides, why are you snooping?”
Otabek scoffed, though his gaze darted away from them. “I'm not snooping. I just … want to make sure Yura isn't getting too … adventurous.”
“Mhmm … Right, yeah. Of course.” Yuri grinned. “So … snooping.”
Otabek's groan startled the crows out of a nearby tree.
“Ha, like I'm telling you anything, Altin. Why would I ruin the super sexy surprise?”
“... Sexy?”
“Oops, did I say that?” Mila smirked. “No, but seriously, Beka. You're on your own with this one.”
Otabek pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Mila, you know I don't like surprises.”
But that did nothing to quell her devilish grin. “Oh, trust me, you'll love this one.”
“ Beka, darling. Why would I know anything? I'm in Switzerland.”
“... Because you know everyone's secrets?”
Chris laughed and shrugged one shoulder. Or at least the one visible on the screen. “Ah, well. You have a point there. But I promised Yura I wouldn't say anything.”
“Okay, but … can't you at least … I mean, Yuri and Viktor made it sound so … innocent. But Mila said—”
“ Beka, Mila will say anything to get a rise out of a man.” Otabek groaned and palmed his face, which just made Chris laugh harder. “Relax, darling. Look, I don't think any of us know all the details. But I promise, even with what little I do know, what Yura is planning will be well worth the wait.”
“ Don't even think about it, Beka,” Phichit teased the second he answered the call. “Chris already warned me you were being nosy.”
“I am not being nosy!” Why was everyone saying that? Otabek Altin was many things, but a busybody was not one of them. Was it really so wrong to be curious? Apparently, because Phichit was giving him the same look Yuri had when he denied snooping. “Phichit, please.”
But the Thailand skater just grinned and shook his head. “Yura has been working really hard on this. I'm not going to be the one to spoil it. Sorry, Beka. You'll just have to wait and find out. But trust me,” his less than subtle wink made heat dance along Otabek's cheeks, “you're going to have a great Halloween.”
“Leo, please have mercy on me.”
But the beaming smile plastered across his friend's face left little confidence that Leo had any intention of sparing him. “Oh, Beka. You never really did well with information being withheld from you.”
“I am not snooping! ”
“ I never said you were.” Leo chuckled, then sighed. “I know you're curious by nature. And it must kill you that we’re being so tight-lipped about things. But please know, it's because we love you.”
Otabek huffed. “But I don't like sur—”
“ Surprises, I know. And I'm sure Yura does, too. But I swear, this one in particular will be right up your alley.”
What was Yuri Plisetsky up to?
The constant whiplash of hints between sweet and spicy had Otabek's head spinning and his heart racing. It wouldn't be out of character for Yuri to be planning something a little … well, wild. And it's not like they were celibate. But it didn't matter how many times they were skin-to-skin, mixing panted breaths and moaning into each other's ears; Otabek's whole body flared and tingled from just the memories. And he didn't want to take something away from Yuri, especially not something he’d gone out of his way to prepare.
He went to nearly all of their friends to plan whatever he was doing, for God's sake. Including Viktor!
But that didn't stop Otabek from spiralling through a whirlpool of emotions and questions in the days leading up to Halloween. And the morning of was even worse. He failed several jumps because his mind was back at home, desperately trying to paint a picture of what he could be walking into when practice was over.
Yuri took the day off to get ready—
Otabek hissed as his ass hit the ice. Again. And the expression on Yakov's face screamed, Fuck my life.
As his shadow loomed over the apartment door, Otabek froze. His heart rammed against his chest and the key almost slipped from his fingers. Why was he so nervous? Yuri knew him better than anyone, possibly even better than Otabek knew himself. And he trusted Yuri. But this was so … different. The past few years, October 31st had been about the holiday far more than his birthday, and he liked it that way. Yuri thrived off of attention, but Otabek was more than happy to let all the focus be passed off and just celebrate his birthday at the end of the night, once everyone else was gone, with warm blankets and soft kisses. But with the world in such a precarious state, there was nothing else to focus on.
No Halloween party. Which meant no hiding, metaphorically or otherwise.
Gathering his courage, Otabek sucked in a breath. It was just Yuri. Just the man he loved and treasured more than anything else. If he could find the balls to pull off Barcelona, he could walk into their apartment and face what Yuri had planned for him.
Right?
Key in the lock.
Click.
Hand on the door handle.
Creak.
“Hey, Beka.”
Yuri's bright, love-filled smile invaded his vision before anything else could catch his attention. But Otabek's eyes scanned both his boyfriend and the room a heartbeat later. No wild lingerie. No secret we-could-get-charged-for-this house party. The room was dark, all except for the strings upon strings of fairy lights hung around the living room, casting an almost ethereal glow over Yuri. The coffee table was covered in what seemed to be a variety of Kazakhstan treats, their imperfections outing them as homemade by inexperienced hands, but that warmed Otabek's heart even more. And the man in question himself …
There was Yuri, standing in the middle of the room in a dark grey, pinstripe suit. His hair was braided back on one side, the plaid held in place by a Jack Skellington clip. And in Yuri's hand was a VHS copy of The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Otabek's gaze darted to the TV, landing on the VHS machine they hadn't owned yesterday. “You … remembered.” His eyes prickled, then stung.
“Of course I remembered, you nerd.” Yuri's sweet smile shifted into a much more familiar prideful grin. “You don't rant about anything, so it was a bit hard to forget when you couldn't shut up about it.”
“That was months ago.”
Yuri's lips stretched even wider, nearly across his entire face. “I know.”
Otabek was rooted in place, frozen, all but his eyes, which looked over everything again before settling on Yuri. His boyfriend wasn't in a costume; he was in a form of cosplay. Just for him.
Tearing himself from the doorway, Otabek rushed forward and threw his arms around Yuri. His partner's gale of laughter was the sweetest music and made Otabek hold him even tighter. Their embrace lasted for what seemed like minutes, hours, days, weeks—time was irrelevant. But Yuri didn't pull back. He didn't break the touch Otabek so rarely was the one to seek first. He held onto Otabek just as fiercely, his head resting on the birthday boy's shoulder.
Eventually, their arms loosened, only for their lips to meet instead. And what started as a sweet, simple 'thank you' kiss melted into passion and heat and tongues, into moans pleading for more and stolen breaths. Soft caresses turned into swift, rough tugging on each other's clothes. And first the couch, then the floor, became their bed as they celebrated Otabek's special day.
The movie could wait. Because as much as Otabek loved The Nightmare Before Christmas, he loved Yuri far more. And Yuri Plisetsky had planned the single most nerdy and romantic birthday surprise in the world. His efforts deserved to be rewarded.
“So,” Viktor purred over the rim of his water bottle, “how was your birthday?”
Otabek barely spared the other man a glance as he focused on ensuring his skates were correctly tied. “It was nice.”
“Just nice?” The younger skater hummed, and Viktor frowned. “That's it? That's all you're going to tell us?”
“Well, that's pretty well about as informative as you two were.”
Yuri sighed but was at least wise enough to not comment. Unlike Viktor. “Oh, come on, Beka. That was different. It was a surprise. That we helped with, I might add. Can't you give us just a little more than that?”
For a moment, Otabek considered giving them absolutely nothing. Not just because of the heat threatening to invade his cheeks, but because as much as he had tamed his boyfriend over the years, the exchange went both ways; a little bit of petty had been sown into Otabek. But unlike his beloved partner, who would flip them off and storm out of the locker room, Otabek took a different approach.
He held Viktor's gaze, smirked, and said, “Yura's not coming to practice today.”