Archive of Our Own ^omega

The sun is already setting when the plane lands in Almaty. It’s really quite a sight, the sky turning red and pink and purple, the last sunbeams casting a soft glow over the city and the surrounding mountains. It takes Yuri’s breath away every time he sees it, which honestly surprises him, because by now he should be used to sights like this, with how much he’s always flying around the globe. 

But maybe the way his heart speeds up and his breath catches in his throat as the plane descends isn’t only because of the beautiful view. 

By the time he leaves the plane and goes to collect his luggage, Yuri is almost shaking with impatience, a strange nervous energy buzzing under his skin. All of this is taking way too long, in his opinion. 

He was supposed to be here hours ago, but then his flight got delayed, and now the day is basically over, and Yuri is, frankly, pissed. It feels like the airlines have it out for him, personally, cutting his already limited time with Otabek even shorter. They had plans for the day, goddamnit, and Yuri had been looking forward to them, but none of that is going to happen now. They’d wanted to walk around the city, and they had reservations for that new restaurant near Otabek’s apartment that he hasn’t stopped gushing about since it opened. And, fuck, Yuri really wanted to go there with Otabek. 

He sighs, tapping his foot with impatience, as he waits for his suitcase. He maybe looks at everyone around him with a bit more of a glower than usual, but really, who can blame him? His carefully laid out plans for the weekend are already being ruined, and it’s only the first day. 

He tries not to think about it too much, tries not to let it get to him. After all, he’ll see Otabek soon, and they still have the entire day tomorrow, and then half of Sunday to spend together as well before he has to catch his flight back. He won’t let this weekend be ruined, just because the first day isn’t going as perfect as he’d planned. 

Things can still get better. 

That’s what Yuri tries to tell himself, at least, as his suitcase finally appears on the luggage belt. Yuri grabs it with a sigh of relief; part of him had been scared it might have been lost, because that would really be typical, wouldn’t it? 

He turns to make his way out of the airport, towards the exit, where he knows Otabek will already be waiting for him, when the suitcase zipper suddenly breaks, spilling his clothes all over the filthy airport floor. 

For a second, all Yuri can do is stare in disbelief at just how fucking unlucky he seems to be today, before he starts cursing, uttering every swear word he can think of, loud and filthy enough that the people around him turn to stare at him in horror. He doesn’t pay them any mind, instead getting down on his knees to start gathering his things, stuffing them back into the suitcase and trying to get the damn thing to close again. 

It doesn’t close again. 

Yuri groans, throws his head back and stares at the bright ceiling lights in exasperation, before he gets up, hefting up the suitcase and trying to somehow hold it closed. He manages, but only barely. It must look incredibly stupid, the way he’s clutching the suitcase to his chest like some treasure chest, hair no doubt in disarray, something that may or may not be his underwear sticking out of the offensive baggage at a place he can’t reach right now. 

Scowling, cheeks red with embarrassment and anger, Yuri stumbles through the airport, silently praying he won’t drop his suitcase, arms straining to hold it up. 

Finally, he reaches the exit. He walks out of the building, breathing in the crisp autumn air with immense relief. 

Just as promised, Otabek is leaning against a wall just a few steps away. 

The sight of him, huddled into his jacket with a scarf wrapped around his neck, looking down at his phone, cheeks red from the cold, makes Yuri’s heart skip a beat. It’s been way too long since he saw Otabek in person, and the realisation that they have the rest of the weekend to themselves makes Yuri smile. It’s almost good enough to make him forget his earlier frustration. 

For a moment, Yuri just stands there, looking at Otabek, taking in the sight of him, a bit blown away by just how much he missed him. Then Otabek looks up, and as he spots Yuri, a wide smile spreads on his face, one that makes Yuri’s heart go even more haywire. 

“What happened to your suitcase?” Otabek asks, smiling, and fuck, his voice sounds so different in person. It absolutely doesn’t compare to the way he sounds on the phone, hundreds of miles away. 

Yuri groans and rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight the smile on his lips. 

“Zipper fucking broke. Hopefully I can get it fixed again before Sunday.” 

Otabek nods and hums, then steps over to Yuri and looks as if he’s going to hug him, thinking differently about it at the last second, because it would no doubt be uncomfortable with the way Yuri has to hold onto his suitcase. 

“It’s good to see you,” he says instead, and the words make warmth spread out in Yuri’s chest. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Yuri responds. 

They look at each other for a moment, just smiling, and the entire thing is so stupid, but Yuri doesn’t care. When Otabek makes no move to do or say anything after a while, Yuri raises his eyebrows, and Otabek blushes, coughs awkwardly once before running his hand through his hair.

"Well, we better get going," Otabek says, glancing at Yuri's suitcase. "Before this thing falls apart again." 

Yuri groans, then nods, because Otabek isn't wrong. He feels like he is only one wrong move away from another suitcase related catastrophe. 

It doesn't take them long to find a taxi to take them to Otabek's apartment. Yuri sends a silent thanks to whatever deity is listening as he deposits his suitcase in the trunk without spilling the contents everywhere. As soon as he slides into the backseat next to Otabek, he lets out a relieved groan, throwing his head back against the headrest. 

Otabek chuckles, the quiet sound he makes when he's amused that Yuri likes so much. 

"Rough day?" he asks. 

Yuri groans again, for emphasis, making Otabek snort with barely suppressed laughter. 

"You have no idea. All the waiting was terrible and the people were terrible and the airplane food was terrible and everything was just all around terrible. My back hurts. I'm tired as fuck. And Yakov won't stop texting me." 

Otabek looks at him in sympathy and hums. 

"Yeah, I can imagine it wasn't great. Delayed flights are pretty annoying." 

“To put it mildly,” Yuri grumbles. 

He shuffles around on the seat, trying to get comfortable. After hours of sitting around, his butt hurts, and it’s almost impossible to find a position that doesn’t make him want to tear his hair out. He looks out of the car window and observes the passing scenery in an effort to distract himself. 

Yuri likes Almaty. It’s a nice city, with some great spots for taking pictures, which is something he appreciates. The view isn’t that bad, and the mountains in the distance are, in all honesty, breathtaking, no matter how many times he sees them. And since it’s October, the weather isn’t even terrible. Almaty in the summer is a special kind of hell, in Yuri’s opinion. The colder weather suits him much better. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to take a shower,” he says with a sigh. 

“We won’t take much longer to get home, don’t worry. You can settle in, and I thought we could just order pizza and watch a movie, then go to sleep?” 

Yuri nods, feeling half relieved, half guilty. He knows, logically, that it’s not his fault the flight got delayed, but he still feels bad because of it. 

“Maybe we can go to that restaurant tomorrow instead?” Yuri asks, looking at Otabek hopefully. He really wants to go out to eat dinner with Otabek, but Otabek is right: He is exhausted, and he doesn’t have the energy to traipse around the city in search of a restaurant that isn’t fully booked. Damn this fucking flight making him miss the reservations they had. Just thinking about it makes anger bubble up in Yuri’s stomach, and he frowns. 

Otabek smiles at him, just a little, and really, it’s embarrassing how soft the sight makes Yuri feel inside. Otabek’s smiles are rare things, and the fact that Yuri gets to see so many of them, all the time, never fails to astonish him. 

A part of Yuri wants to keep looking at Otabek and his handsome face and pretty smile, but he knows that now isn’t the time for that, so he blinks and averts his eyes. Otabek doesn’t seem to have noticed anything. He keeps talking like everything is perfectly normal, and Yuri’s heart isn’t trying to jump out of his chest simply because looking at Otabek is too much for him. 

“Sure, I can call them later and ask if they still have a table for tomorrow. The food there is amazing, you’ll love it.” 

Yuri bites his lip to suppress a smile. “Yes, you’ve said that before. I can’t wait.” 

They fall into silence again, and it’s a lot more comfortable now. Yuri is always amazed at how quickly they can fall back into their routine. Even after not seeing each other for months, it only takes them a short while until it feels like they were never separated at all, sharing soft or sharp words and silences that say more than words ever could. Of course, Yuri can’t stop thinking about how limited their time together is. He hates it more every time they have to say goodbye. But there’s no way around it, so all he can do is make the most of the time they do have together. And he plans to really make it count this time. 

As Yuri’s phone buzzes in his pocket, he sighs. A glance at the screen confirms his suspicions. It’s Yakov. Again. Yuri decides not to respond and puts his phone away again. 

“What is Yakov saying?” Otabek asks, and really, it’s amazing how he just knows.  

Yuri huffs. “That I’m a terrible idiot, and immature, and why am I not thinking about my career, I should have told him I’m leaving for the weekend, I shouldn’t be taking time off at all, it’s competition season, blah blah, the usual bullshit. He’s been blowing up my phone all day. I’m not responding, obviously.” 

“Right. Obviously,” Otabek says, deadpan, but Yuri can see the teasing amusement in his eyes. 

“Shut up, Beka. I don’t get why he worries so much. I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want.” 

Being able to say that still makes a thrill of excitement rush through Yuri. Since his eighteenth birthday, he points it out as often as he possibly can. There’s an unexpected freedom about officially being able to do what he wants, about really being an adult, at least on paper. Finally, he can do what he wants, and no one can stop him. Well, mostly. There are limits, of course. Yuri just doesn’t like to think about them.

“I mean, he has a point. We are in the middle of competition season. And anyway, I don’t think he means any harm. He’s your coach, he just wants what’s best for you.”

Yuri throws his head back with a sound of exasperation. 

“Beka. You’re supposed to be on my side here.”

“Alright, sure,” Otabek says with a grin that tells Yuri he’s not being serious at all. “Yakov is definitely the one being unreasonable here.”

“Thank you!”

Yuri grins back at him, and Otabek fondly shakes his head. Then something passes over his face, dimming the smile, and Yuri frowns, tilts his head. Otabek clears his throat somewhat awkwardly and turns to look out the window, at the blurry buildings flashing by. The taxi driver is humming along to some inane pop song playing on the radio. 

“But. Really,” Otabek says, voice rough. He’s still not looking at him, and Yuri could swear there’s a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “You… Yura, you didn’t have to come here just for my birthday. Your training is more important, you shouldn’t- not for me, I mean…” 

Yuri chuckles, but it comes out somewhat strained. 

“Hah. Taking a weekend off won’t make a difference. I’m going to crush you at the Final anyway.” 

Then he swallows, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He looks away from Otabek, and now he’s the one blushing, and his heart is beating a lot faster than before. He clears his throat. 

“And, anyway. I wanted to see you. I… I wanted to spend your birthday with you,” Yuri admits. 

He feels like admitting this has left him strangely vulnerable. It’s not as if it’s anything unusual, but Yuri still feels like he’s said too much, like Otabek can look right through him and see that he doesn’t just mean it in a platonic way. 

For the first time, Yuri wonders whether he really should have come here. He thought it was a good idea before, but Otabek’s words make him second-guess himself. Maybe Otabek didn’t want him to come by for a visit, maybe he’s keeping Otabek from getting some important training done, maybe Otabek just agreed to this because it’s impossible to tell Yuri no, because, like Yakov said, he does what he wants and no one can do anything about it.

But then he shakes his head, chases the thoughts away. Otabek wouldn’t do something like this. This is one of the reasons he likes Otabek so much, because he always says it like it is, and he doesn’t lie, not to Yuri. Otabek’s blunt honesty is refreshing, something they have in common. It’s why they match. 

“Well,” Otabek says, and they’re still not looking at each other, but it sounds like he’s smiling again. “If you say so. I’m really glad you’re here, Yura.”

Yuri can’t help but grin. “I’m glad I’m here too.” 

He lets his head rest against the window, the cold glass clearing his head, and looks outside, gaze unfocused. They’re quiet again, but Yuri doesn’t mind. He listens as Otabek starts talking to the driver. They speak that peculiar mix of Russian and Kazakh that people in Almaty seem to be so fond of. Yuri’s Kazakh isn’t great, but he understands enough of the conversation to know that Otabek is asking how much longer the drive will take, then just making a bit of polite small talk. The droning of their voices and the humming of the car are steady and comforting, lulling him to sleep. 

Yuri startles from his slumber when he feels someone gently touch his shoulder. He blinks, mind still hazy, and rolls his head on his shoulders, making something in his back crack loudly. He turns around, and sees Otabek leaning close to him, hand still resting on his shoulder.

“Sleep well?” Otabek asks, the corners of his mouth tugged up in a smile. 

Yuri yawns, then nods. The car has stopped moving, and he recognizes the street outside. They’re finally there. 

While the brief nap has no doubt helped lessen his exhaustion, Yuri’s neck hurts like hell, and he groans as he sits up properly. Otabek’s hand, warm and steady, falls from his shoulder, and Yuri mourns the loss of the touch for a brief moment before he climbs out of the taxi. Otabek pays the driver quickly, then gets out too, and opens the trunk to get Yuri’s suitcase for him before Yuri has the chance to carry it himself. 

With a huff, Yuri crosses his arms. 

“I can carry my stuff myself, you know,” he mutters, and tries very hard to ignore how warm his face suddenly is. 

Otabek nods. “Yes, I know. I just wanted to be nice.” 

And really, who could blame Yuri for falling for this man? He’s fucking perfect, is what he is. No one has ever carried Yuri’s luggage for him before, just to be nice, just because they know Yuri is exhausted and are trying to do something for him. 

Yuri takes the keys from Otabek, because there’s no way Otabek will be able to carry his luggage and get the doors unlocked, and they get into the apartment without any further suitcase-related incidents. Yuri is infinitely grateful for that. 

As soon as he enters the apartment, he lets out a relieved groan. The smell that surrounds him is familiar and comforting; it’s Otabek through and through. The apartment isn’t big, but it’s cozy, feels lived in. Traces of Otabek are everywhere, this space is entirely his own, and it shows, and Yuri loves it. There are records and old band posters hanging on the walls, dark vintage furniture, Otabek’s motorcycle helmet on the floor next to the sofa, his laptop and equipment on the coffee table, some half-dead plants on the shelves. Yuri knows that Otabek’s apartment is usually messier, so there’s really no need to have it cleaned up specifically for this visit, but knowing Otabek went through that effort to make him feel welcome sends another spike of warmth through his body. 

Yuri throws himself onto the sofa immediately, stretching out his legs and burrowing into the worn cushions. After the day he had, the relief of lying on a soft surface almost makes him moan out loud, but he stops himself at the last second. His expression seems to give his emotions away though, because Otabek looks at him and grins. 

“Comfortable?” he asks, depositing Yuri’s suitcase in the corner, propped against the wall, where no one will stumble over it. 

“Very,” Yuri answers, voice almost a purr, as he toes off his shoes and settles deeper into the cushions. 

Otabek chuckles again, that deep, pleasant sound, and starts walking around the apartment. Yuri closes his eyes, lets his whole body relax. He really is tired, and exhausted. As much as he would like to go out and do something today, he doesn’t think he has it in him. In fact, with his eyes closed, it’s exceedingly hard to stay awake and not fall asleep again. That would simply be rude. He doesn’t want to waste his time with Otabek by falling asleep on him again, but the way it’s looking right now, Yuri won’t manage to stay awake much longer. 

“I ordered us pizza, and called the restaurant to change our reservation. They still had a table for us, so we can go tomorrow, if you want.” 

Otabek’s voice reaches him as if it’s coming from very far away. Yuri blinks with heavy lids, peers up at Otabek, who is standing right next to the sofa, looking down at him with an expression that could maybe be fond. He has taken off his jacket and scarf, and has apparently also found the time to change into sweatpants. He’s wearing one of his adorable grandpa knit sweaters that Yuri likes to mock him for but actually thinks look really good on him, and his face still looks slightly flushed. The sight of him makes Yuri smile sleepily, and he sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t think that he fell asleep, but considering he didn’t notice Otabek changing and making two phone calls, he must have. Fuck. He really is useless. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and is surprised by how rough his voice suddenly sounds. 

As Yuri coughs and clears his throat and tries to wake himself up again, Otabek sits down on the couch next to him, and pulls a knitted throw blanket from the back rest to hand it to Yuri. Then he gestures to the coffee table, which is still pretty much overflowing with technology, but where he has also placed two glasses of water. 

“If you need anything else, just say so. You seem pretty beat. Let’s just watch a movie until the food arrives, then go to bed, what do you think?” 

Otabek’s voice is so gentle and his actions so thoughtful, it makes Yuri want to scream. In a positive way. With an exaggerated groan, he lets himself fall sideways against Otabek, resting his head on his shoulder, feeling the soft sweater on his skin, inhaling his smell. 

“Fuck, Beka, you’re too good to me. You’re a literal lifesaver,” he says, and only barely manages not to grin when Otabek chuckles just a tad awkwardly. 

“Well. I mean. I’m really not, but if you say so…” 

Yuri nods as best as he’s able to in his position, pulling the blanket over both himself and Otabek for additional comfort. 

“I do say so. Now pick a movie. I don’t care what we watch, it just has to be good.” 

Otabek picks up the TV remote and pulls up Netflix, laughing. 

Yuri barely notices anything about the movie Otabek picks. By the time the opening credits are over and the movie starts properly, he’s already falling back asleep. He’s trying very hard not to, is telling himself to get it the fuck together, to cherish his time with Otabek, and to stay the fuck awake, but it’s not really working. The blanket is so warm, and Otabek next to him is even warmer, and leaning against him is so comfortable, and with the sound of the movie and the distant rumble of the city, Yuri quickly finds himself dozing off again. 

He is awoken when the food arrives, and stays awake only long enough to wolf down his pizza and then Otabek’s leftovers like he’s starving, before Yuri’s eyes feel heavy again. While Otabek cleans up, Yuri lets his head fall back against the backrest, nodding off and startling awake again every few seconds. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before Otabek gently shakes him awake again. 

“Yura. Are you awake?”

“I am now,” he grumbles. 

Otabek smiles at him, and Yuri blushes, though he doesn’t quite know why. His sleep-addled brain doesn’t seem to be so keen on functioning properly. 

“What is it?” he asks, because it seems like Otabek has something to say. 

“I think we should go to sleep,” Otabek says. “You can take my bed if you want to, I know you’re pretty exhausted. I can sleep on the couch, it’s no big deal.” 

Usually, Yuri would feel bad about exiling Otabek from his own bed. Now, though, Yuri is grateful for the offer, and nods quickly. He really is exhausted, and a proper bed sounds really damn inviting right now. He almost suggests that they could share, that Otabek doesn’t have to take the couch and they can just sleep in his bed together, but holds himself back at the last second. This isn’t the time for a question like this. It isn’t the time for a discussion like this. Maybe soon, but not now. 

Yuri gets ready for bed in a haze, washing the airport grime off his body on autopilot, and he falls into the pillows soon, tugging a blanket around himself, revelling in the way he is absolutely surrounded by Otabek’s smell. It makes something in his chest flip over, and makes giddy excitement bubble up in his stomach. 

Maybe this first day didn’t quite go according to plan, but it wasn’t terrible either. And there’s still time left. Tomorrow, Yuri decides, will be absolutely perfect. Tomorrow will go exactly according to plan, and if everything happens the way he wants it to… who knows, maybe he’ll even sleep next to Otabek tomorrow night. That’d be nice. 

***

After years of waking up at ass o’clock every morning for training, Yuri rarely ever sleeps in. His body simply isn’t used to it, waking him up way too early even on weekends. When he wakes up in Almaty on Saturday, it’s almost ten am. He does the math quickly, knows that it’s much earlier in Russia, and that he only slept two hours longer than usual, but he still considers it a win. He doesn’t feel jetlagged, and he’s glad for that. 

He has plans for today, and he can’t afford to be tired. 

Though he is much more rested after a good night’s sleep, Yuri is hesitant to leave the bed at first. It’s comfortable and warm, and it still smells like Otabek. The smell is all around him, making his mind hazy, and it occurs to him with a warm little thrill that, after sleeping in here, he must smell like Otabek too. The thought excites him more than it should. 

After lounging around for a few blissful, lazy minutes, Yuri gets up, yawning and scratching his head. No matter how much he would like to just stay in bed, he can’t. After all, it is Otabek’s birthday today, and Yuri is excited to spend the day with him. He didn’t fly all the way to Kazakhstan to lounge around all day.

When Yuri enters the living room, Otabek is already awake. He is holding a steaming cup of tea and scrolling through his phone, sitting on the sofa in a mess of blankets and pillows. His hair is still messy, the clothes he slept in rumpled. When Yuri steps into the room, the old wooden floor boards creaking beneath him, Otabek looks up, and he smiles, the expression so soft and gorgeous that Yuri nearly confesses on the spot, almost blurts out his feelings right then and there. 

Instead of making a fool out of himself first thing in the morning, Yuri swallows, and runs a hand through his hair.

“Good morning,” Otabek says, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Morning,” Yuri responds. 

He coughs awkwardly, blushing because he still can’t look away from Otabek. They stand like that in silence for a moment, before Otabek raises a brow at him, expression teasing, and Yuri starts blushing even more. Then, he remembers why the fuck he’s even here, and he feels like sinking into the floor out of embarrassment, because he can’t believe simply looking at Otabek can make his brain short-circuit like that. 

“And, uh. Happy birthday!” 

Yuri tries to smile as he says it, feeling exceedingly awkward. It eases somewhat when Otabek returns his smile. 

“Thanks, Yura.”

His voice is so tender that it makes Yuri dizzy. He still isn’t fully awake, and all of this feels so intimate that he’s getting stupid, that all he wants is to fling himself at Otabek immediately. But no. Not yet. He has a fucking plan and he will stick to it. 

Yuri takes a deep breath, tries to center himself. Before he can say anything, his stomach rumbles loudly, and he snorts a surprised laugh at the sound. Otabek grins, lifting his brows again. 

“Maybe we should have breakfast?” he asks. 

Yuri groans. “God, yes, I’m starving. "

“Yes, I can hear that.” 

Otabek is still grinning at him. Yuri rolls his eyes, but grins back. 

“Dick,” he mumbles, just loud enough that Otabek can hear. 

Thankfully, the awkwardness goes away after that, and they sit next to each other on the sofa, eating oatmeal and drinking orange juice, talking about the day ahead and whatever else they can think of. Again, it strikes Yuri how easy it is to simply be with Otabek. It’s easy to talk with him, and to be honest. That had unnerved him, at first. Yuri doesn’t just talk to people, especially not like this, but with Otabek, it all seems so natural, and now it’s one of his favourite things about their friendship. 

He hopes that, after today, they’ll still have that. That he won’t ruin everything. 

After they’re done eating, Yuri gets up to rummage around in his backpack, pulling out a plain white envelope. Otabek watches him with curiosity as he sits back down and holds the envelope out. 

“It’s for you. Your birthday present,” Yuri explains, urging Otabek to take it.

“Yura, you know you didn’t have to…” Otabek starts, carefully reaching for the envelope. 

“Yes, but I wanted to.” 

Yuri watches in silence as Otabek opens it and pulls two tickets out of the envelope. He looks at them, and then his eyes widen. 

“I- Yuri, you-” 

It’s honestly adorable, seeing Otabek speechless like this, stuttering and trying to find the right words. Yuri can’t help but grin as he Otabek starts smiling, wide and stunned and undoubtedly happy. 

Otabek is holding concert tickets. When Yuri had first found out that one of Otabek’s favourite bands would go on tour in Russia next year, he’d simply known that this would be the perfect present. With Otabek already planning to visit Yuri on his birthday, and the concert taking place in St. Petersburg on that day, 

“But… Yuri, this is on your birthday. Are you sure you…?” Otabek mumbles, still staring at the tickets in awe. 

Yuri nods. “I want to spend my birthday with you. It doesn’t matter what we do. Unless, you don’t…?”

Otabek looks up at him, eyes wide. “No. Fuck. I… I really want to go. With you. Thank you. Really, I- Thank you, Yura.” 

He can’t help the way the blood rushes to his head at Otabek’s words, and he starts to fidget. 

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad you like your present,” Yuri says quietly. 

The way Otabek smiles at him is nearly blinding, and Yuri swallows. His heart is doing very acrobatic, kind of painful things in his chest.

He realizes, of course, that there is the very real possibility that Otabek might not want to go with him to the concert anymore when the day is over. That thought makes his stomach hurt, but he can’t not think about it. 

He has this day all planned out in his head: He and Otabek will walk around and get dinner and go clubbing, and then they’ll dance, and Yuri will confess his feelings, and they’ll kiss, and it will be great. All in all, he has a good feeling about this. He has noticed the way Otabek looks at him sometimes, when he thinks Yuri doesn’t notice, all sweet and tender, and the way Otabek’s touches always seem to linger just a little bit longer than necessary. 

But no matter how sure he is that Otabek feels the same, he can’t help but be nervous. Because what if he’s got it all wrong? What if that’s just how Otabek is with all his friends, and Yuri is just seeing what he wants to see? And when Yuri finally tells him how he feels, Otabek will look at him differently, will want nothing to do with him? Not that he thinks Otabek would do something like this, something as cruel as sending Yuri away, but still. 

There is the possibility that Yuri’s plan will go wrong, and he doesn’t want to think about that, but he also can’t keep the thoughts away. They cling to him like glue as he watches Otabek look at the concert tickets some more, and while they both get ready, and even when they finally leave, Yuri can’t quite shake them away. 

***

The day passes quickly, and after a while, Yuri does manage to stop worrying, at least for a little bit. He’s enjoying himself, walking around Almaty with Otabek, exploring corners of the city he hasn’t seen before, letting Otabek show him all his favourite places. Spending time like this with Otabek is nice, and even though it’s cold, the weather is nice, and Yuri gets to see Almaty in all its beauty. He takes pictures for his Instagram, and some that he decides to keep just for himself, and ignores all the texts he gets from Mila (teasing) and from Yakov (angry). 

Before he knows it, it’s early evening, and they make their way to the restaurant to get dinner. It’s cozy, and warm, and the waiter taking their order is nice. The food is amazing. Yuri stuffs it into his mouth almost faster than he can chew, no doubt looking silly with his cheeks puffed out. Otabek keeps grinning at him from across the table, and it makes Yuri feel all warm and fluttery. 

“So, have you thought about what exactly we’re going to do later?” Yuri asks when he’s halfway through his meal and finally slowing down. 

Otabek shrugs, swallowing a bite of food. He is eating much more slowly than Yuri is. 

“No concrete plans. There are plenty of clubs we can go to, I thought we’d just decide spontaneously.” 

Yuri shrugs too. He doesn’t know shit about clubs in Almaty, and doesn’t really have an opinion on where they’re going to go. He just wants to dance with Otabek. 

“We should definitely get booze,” he says absentmindedly. 

Otabek raises his brows at him. 

“Oh, should we, now?” 

“Of course!” Yuri shouts back, a bit too loud. He blushes, and continues more quietly. “You’re twenty-one now. You can finally buy your own booze. We should celebrate that.” 

Otabek shrugs again, but there’s the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Yuri knows he won. They’ve gotten drunk together in the past, in countries where the drinking laws are much more lenient, but he knows that there’s something special about this for Otabek. And honestly, Yuri is glad they can now get their hands on some alcohol without any problems, because he could really use some liquor courage for his plan to work out. 

When they’re done eating, they make their way to a seedy looking kiosk. Otabek gets a bottle of cheap vodka, and when he shows the cashier his ID, he actually seems a little proud. It’s honestly adorable, and it makes Yuri like him even more. 

They make their way back to Otabek’s flat after that, opening the bottle almost as soon as they’re through the door. They put on some music, drink straight out of the bottle, and Yuri quickly finds himself dizzy with alcohol and Otabek’s company. 

When the bottle is half empty, he stumbles into Otabek’s bedroom, throwing open his closet. Otabek isn’t far behind, laughing. He gets like that when he drinks, all open smiles and loud laughter, and Yuri loves it. They also both get more affectionate, and Yuri would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to Otabek’s hugs and lingering touches. 

“Why are you in the closet?” Otabek asks, then laughs again at the double entendre. 

Yuri can’t help but laugh too as he rummages around in Otabek’s clothes. 

“I’m trying to pick out what you’ll wear to the club later. Why are all your clothes so monochrome?” 

Otabek shrugs, lets himself fall backwards onto the bed. 

“I dunno, I just like it like that.” 

“But it’s boring .” 

“What are you going to wear?” Otabek asks, diverting from his own style choices. 

Yuri turns around to look at him, all sprawled out on the bed. He briefly considers just… lying down on top of Otabek, but quickly banishes that thought from his head. Instead, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and rolls his eyes in an exaggerated motion. 

“Something with animal print on it, obviously. I brought a bunch of stuff to choose from. You can help, if you want.” 

“Ah, so that’s why your suitcase is so big,” Otabek comments, and he’s teasing now. 

“Hey, fuck you,” Yuri says, but he’s grinning, he can’t help it. 

Otabek laughs again, the sound deep and rich, and then he hums, turning his face into the bunched up comforter.

“This smells like you,” he comments, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. And then, “It smells good. You smell good.” 

Yuri literally stops breathing for a second. He’s not sure he doesn’t just pass out. He almost pinches himself to make sure he’s still awake. Maybe he had more vodka than he thought, and has started hallucinating. But, no, Otabek actually just said that. And now he’s started talking about something else as if nothing happened. It takes Yuri a long moment to tune back in and listen to what Otabek is saying, and even when he does, he still feels all tingly and weird, with his heart racing. He can’t believe Otabek just… said that. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. 

As it gets later, the sun going down and the bottle emptying steadily, Yuri relaxes more and more. They pick out things to wear; Otabek looks unfairly good even in his simple black shirt, and his jeans are sinfully tight. Yuri can’t stop looking at his thighs and ass. A blush spreads across his face, and it takes Yuri a lot of effort to tear his eyes away. 

By the time they stumble out of Otabek’s flat and into the crisp night, they’re both pleasantly drunk. Yuri is buzzing with excitement; he needs to move, needs to get the excess energy out somehow. He keeps jumping up and down, grabbing Otabek’s hand to pull him along faster. He wants to dance. He is ready.

Otabek follows him, laughing, and Yuri laughs too. It’s nice. He likes this. He feels good, and he thinks he’s going to feel even better once they get to a club. 

“So, where do you wanna go?” Yuri asks, words slightly slurred. 

Otabek looks around, squints, hums. 

“Hm. There’s this place nearby that’s really cool, and the music is nice. I’ve played some sets there in the past, it’s really chill.” 

Yuri shrugs. “Sounds fine. Lead the way, then.” 

Otabek nods with a grin, then starts walking again. They’re still holding hands. It doesn’t seem like Otabek wants to pull away anytime soon. Yuri shivers, and it has nothing at all to do with the cold. 

It doesn’t take them long to get to the club; the thumping base can be heard from a block away, and when they round the corner, Yuri can see a gaggle of people crowding in front of a building with a flashing neon sign hanging over the front door. Though it’s hard to judge from the outside, Yuri supposes it looks alright, and the people waiting seem to be the more relaxed sort of partygoers. 

They get in line, and then they wait. 

This is Yuri’s least favourite part about going clubbing. He has never been a very patient person, and he starts fidgeting before long, unable to stand still. Otabek laughs at him as he keeps bouncing on the balls of his feet. Yuri blushes, and swings their clasped hands back and forth. When Otabek squeezes his hand briefly, Yuri has to look away. 

By the time they’re finally at the front of the line, Yuri feels like he’s ready to burst, about to jump out of his own skin. He digs his wallet out of his pants pocket, when the bouncer says, “Your tickets, please.” 

Yuri stops, frowns. Otabek does the same, looking up at the bouncer in confusion. 

“Tickets?” Otabek asks. 

The bouncer nods. “Halloween party tonight. No entrance without tickets.” 

Otabek and Yuri look at each other, then back at the bouncer. Yuri feels his heart sink. He didn’t know this was some sort of special event, and clearly Otabek didn’t know either. They don’t have any tickets. 

“Can we just buy them now?” Otabek tries. 

The bouncer shakes his head. 

“Sorry, buddy. Pre-sale only.” 

“Could you make an exception? I come here to play sometimes, maybe you could-” 

But before Otabek can even finish, the bouncer sighs. 

“Look, man. No tickets, no party. Nothing I can do about that. Doesn’t matter who you are. No exceptions. Try somewhere else. We’re all sold out for the evening.” 

He still sounds nice, but he’s also very tall and very muscular and Yuri knows that he shouldn’t go looking for trouble with this kind of man. Yuri knows that, if he would start to argue and try to convince him, the bouncer could very quickly become a lot less pleasant to talk to. A part of him still wants to try, but then Otabek sighs and gives the bouncer a quick little nod. 

“Alright. Thank you,” he says, polite as ever, before stepping out of the line and away from the entrance. 

Yuri sighs too, but then follows him. 

They walk a few steps in silence, and Yuri can’t help but notice that Otabek has let go of his hand now. He feels weirdly dejected about it. When they reach the next intersection, Otabek stops and looks around again, frowning. 

“Well, that didn’t work out the way I thought it would,” he mumbles, sounding a lot less chipper than before. 

“Are there any other places we could go? This is a big city, there has to be more than one club,” Yuri says. 

He’s trying to sound optimistic, but he can’t deny that he’s a little bit disappointed too. It’s getting late, and he wants to get on with his plan. 

Otabek thinks for a moment, then nods. 

“Yeah, there are a few nearby that I think are alright,” he finally says. 

Yuri breathes a sigh of relief, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. For a brief moment, he thought the evening would be over before it has even begun, but he should have known better. He bumps his shoulder against Otabek’s, grinning at him. 

“Let’s go, then,” he says. 

As they start walking again, he stays purposefully close to Otabek. Every once in a while, their hands or shoulders brush, and it could be a coincidence, of course, but Yuri doesn’t think it is. Not with the way Otabek is smiling his sweet little secret smile, shy and barely there. Not with the way it just keeps happening, and Otabek isn’t looking at Yuri, but whenever Yuri glances at him, he could swear Otabek is blushing, just the slightest bit. 

“So,” Yuri starts as they trot down the streets, the city still awake despite the late hour. “Do you have any special birthday wishes? Any goals for the next year, or something cheesy like that?” 

Otabek lets out a surprised burst of laughter, and he looks at Yuri with his brows raised. 

“What?” he simply asks, obviously surprised by the question. 

Yuri shoves him gently, trying not to appear too embarrassed. 

“You heard me, idiot,” he mumbles, then stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. 

“Hm,” Otabek makes, looking thoughtful now. Then, he suddenly looks at his feet, and now he’s definitely blushing. “Uh, no, I- well, there is something, but it’s not- and anyway, you shouldn’t talk about your wishes, or they won’t come true, right?” 

It’s very unlike Otabek to stutter like that, and Yuri can’t help but look at him in surprise. He doesn’t say anything, and Otabek takes a moment to collect himself again before clearing his throat. 

“I do have a goal, though,” he says, and he sounds more sure of himself now, the way he usually does. 

“And what?” Yuri asks, curious. 

Otabek grins at him. “To steal gold from you at the Grand Prix Final this year.” 

Yuri laughs at that, loud and sudden. 

“Yeah, keep dreaming. That’s not gonna happen,” he says and sticks his tongue out at Otabek, so he knows that Yuri is just teasing. 

“Just wait and see,” Otabek says with a smirk. 

They both laugh, then, and Yuri enjoys how light he feels, still floaty with alcohol and Otabek’s closeness. 

It takes them a while to get to their next destination, but the walk doesn’t feel long. They keep talking, and laughing, and Yuri is still excited. He feels like his chest keeps swelling with every second, just counting down until the moment has come for him to let it all out. 

The club they end up at looks much like the first one from the outside. Again, there are blinking neon lights and people clad in clothes that are way too short for October standing outside. The line is much shorter though, and Yuri is relieved about that. He doesn’t think he could stand to wait outside for ages again. 

It doesn’t take them long to get to the front of the line. The bouncer, this one a lot grumpier than the first one, checks Otabek’s ID without asking them for any special tickets and waves him through. Yuri shows him his ID too, and is about to follow Otabek through the front door and to the register, when the bouncer stops him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“No, not you,” he says gruffly. 

Yuri frowns, and Otabek looks back at him, waiting. 

“Why not?” he asks. 

The bouncer huffs, very clearly annoyed.

“‘Cause you’re too young, that’s why.” 

Yuri is about to protest, but the guy cuts him off before he can even get started. The hand on his shoulder tightens briefly. 

“Gotta be twenty-one to enter.” 

His voice is firm and leaves no room for discussion. Yuri takes a step back, starting to get angry, but at least the bouncer stops touching him. Otabek has come back outside, and it seems like he wants to say something, but the bouncer throws him a truly intimidating glare. Without another word, Otabek puts his hand on Yuri’s arm, the weight of it comforting, and steers him away from the entrance. 

Yuri groans. 

“What the fuck! Why won’t they let me in! I’m eighteen, for fuck’s sake. Your stupid laws are stupid!” 

“I didn’t realize they were so strict about age,” Otabek mumbles. 

Yuri throws his head back, glaring at the night sky. 

“It’s fucking stupid,” he repeats. 

When Otabek lets out a little snort, Yuri turns to glare at him instead. 

“Are you alright?” Otabek asks after a few more steps. “I saw that guy touching you, and I know you don’t like when strangers do that.” 

The concern in his voice makes Yuri feel warm and fuzzy all of a sudden, and it’s almost enough to chase away the anger about being denied entrance again. He nods, and looks away so Otabek doesn’t see him blush. It doesn’t escape his notice that Otabek is still touching him, and how much Yuri likes that. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. That dude was a dick. He needs to relax,” Yuri grumbles. 

They walk in silence, and before long, Otabek drops his hand again. Yuri kicks an empty can away, trying to expel his frustration and enjoying the resounding metallic clang it makes. This sucks. It’s getting late, and Yuri thought he’d be pressed up against Otabek’s strong body by now, sweat clinging to them, music pounding in his ears. In an ideal world, they would have kissed by now. Instead, they’re wandering around somewhat aimlessly, and Yuri is starting to get uneasy. Things weren’t supposed to be like this.

“Let’s try some other place,” he says after a moment. 

Otabek looks at him for a moment, face unreadable, and then he nods. 

Yuri nods too, and sighs. He tries not to fidget. 

It will be fine. 

Everything is going to be perfectly fine. 

***

Everything is not perfectly fine. 

It turns out, as they walk from one club to another, that finding a place that allows eighteen-year-olds to enter and that isn’t throwing some special exclusive Halloween party today is kind of impossible. 

They’re turned away from more places than Yuri can count, and with every bouncer shaking their head at him, he gets more dejected. They’ve been walking for what must be ages, and Yuri’s feet are starting to hurt. And with the warm buzz of alcohol wearing off, he notices how cold it really is. He regrets not taking a warmer jacket with him as another gust of wind hits him, making him shiver. 

Restless energy is tingling under his skin, but it’s different now than before. Before, he was excited about spending the night with Otabek, about Otabek having a nice birthday. Now he is nervous, because nothing is going the way he planned, and what if they never find a club that lets them in? What if his plan to confess won’t work out, and the evening will end with everything the way it was before?

Yuri tries not to think about that. 

After they are turned down at yet another club, things nearly escalate. Yuri turns away from the entrance after the bouncer inspects his ID and tells him no, and he’s groaning and not looking where he’s going, and he walks right into some drunk idiot loitering around outside the club. The guy turns around, face contorted in anger, and starts swearing at Yuri immediately. His breath reeks of alcohol. 

A part of him wants to fight, because a part of him always wants to fight, and his anger is rising quickly. The guy seems to look for a fight too, squaring up and shouting obscenities, and really, Yuri has no patience for bullshit like that. He’s about to start rolling up his sleeves when Otabek steps in front of him and pulls him away before anything can happen. 

They walk away with quick steps, and Yuri is suddenly filled with sinking guilt, because what was he thinking, picking a fight with someone when it’s Otabek’s birthday and really, Otabek shouldn’t have to deal with that, Otabek shouldn’t have to deal with him- 

Something wet lands on his nose. 

Yuri stops walking, confused. 

“Yura? What’s wrong?” Otabek asks, turning around to look at him. 

Yuri frowns, and then he is hit again, this time on his cheek. He looks up, and a raindrop lands next to his eye, making him flinch. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters. 

He can’t believe it’s fucking raining. It’s as if the universe has it out for him. 

“Well, shit,” Otabek mutters, and Yuri almost flinches again, because Otabek doesn’t curse a lot, and that must mean he’s in a bad mood. 

The drops are coming down faster now, and Yuri shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“What do we do? Where do we go?” he asks, and immediately bites his lip when he realizes how lost he sounds. 

Otabek simply shrugs, looking sort of lost himself. 

Great. 

***

In the end, they don’t go anywhere. 

The rain starts pouring down hard, way too soon, and they’re running through the streets, breathless, looking for a restaurant or a grocery store or a fastfood chain or anything where they could find shelter, but everything in this area is closed already. 

They’re completely soaked and breathless by the time they find an awning big enough for both of them to stand under without getting any wetter. 

Yuri tries to shake away some of the water, tries to wring out his hair. He is panting and shivering and wet and he hates it. The pounding rain is almost deafening, the only other sound Yuri can hear is his labored breathing, and Otabek beside him.

The awning they’re standing under isn’t that big. They have to stand close to fit, and with the wind howling like this, every once in a while a gust of rain is blown into their faces despite the shelter. 

“This fucking sucks,” Yuri grumbles, hugging himself tighter, trying to keep some of the cold out. 

Otabek nods in agreement, runs his hand through his wet hair, making the dark strands stick up at wild angles. 

“Yeah, it kind of does,” he agrees. 

Something heavy settles in Yuri’s gut at the words, something that feels a lot like guilt. With every minute they spend here, waiting for the rain to stop and fucking freezing, Yuri feels more terrible. He can’t stop thinking about how all he wanted was for Otabek to have a nice day, and now they’re stuck here, and that’s the exact opposite of nice. 

And his plan has probably been ruined too. 

Yuri lets out a frustrated groan, turns around and kicks the house wall behind him. A sharp pain spikes through his foot immediately, running up his leg, and he curses, turns away again, to look at the empty street, and the rain streaking by, blurring the yellow glow of the street lamps. 

“We should wait for the rain to pass, and then… maybe we can just go home. Spend the rest of the evening relaxing. What do you say?” Otabek says after a while.

Yuri bites his lip, tries not to let it show how disappointed he is. Part of him wants to protest, because that wasn’t the plan, and they haven’t even had the chance to dance yet, but he doesn’t want to make a fuss, and really, it’s probably a bad idea to stay out any longer. If they keep running around the city to find a club, they’ll probably freeze to death, and there’s no guarantee they’ll even find anything. And even if they did, soaked as they are, Yuri doubts it would be a very comfortable experience. 

In the end, he just mutters, “Sure,” and tries to keep his voice as steady as possible. 

He glances over at Otabek, who is frowning out into the darkness. The water is dripping off his leather jacket, his shirt and jeans sticking to his body in a way that would usually make Yuri’s mouth water, but now it’s just making him sad. 

As they wait in silence for the rain to stop, the lump in his throat is steadily growing, threatening to choke him. He is torn between being angry at the universe for ruining the evening, or angry at himself, for being so insistent that he and Otabek go out clubbing, for being so insistent about coming to Almaty in the first place. If he’d just stayed home, Otabek could have spent the evening with his local friends, or even his family. But Yuri had to be selfish, had to force himself into Otabek’s day, and now Otabek’s birthday is fucking ruined, all because of him. 

Yuri feels like he could scream. Or cry. Or maybe both. 

He looks at Otabek again, and notices how he’s bouncing on his feet, hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to get warmer, and at the sight, something inside of Yuri breaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. 

Otabek turns around, looking at him with a frown. It takes Yuri a lot of effort not to turn away from him, the instinct to wrap his arms around himself and shrug up his shoulders and try to fade away almost too strong. 

“What? Why?” Otabek asks, and he… he sounds so sincere, so genuinely confused, and that just makes Yuri’s chest hurt more. 

“Because this entire day has been a disaster!” Yuri shouts, perhaps a bit louder than is technically necessary. 

The frown on Otabek’s face deepens, and he takes a hesitant step closer to Yuri. As if he’s scared he could frighten him away. It’s almost funny, because as much as Yuri would like to disappear, Otabek could never frighten him away, and now there’s a part of him that just wants to throw himself at Otabek, wrap his arms around Otabek’s shoulders and never let go. 

“Do you really think so?” Otabek asks, quiet, careful. 

Yuri groans, he can’t help himself. 

“Of course I think so! We’ve been running around all evening, because no fucking club will let us in, and now it started fucking raining, and we’re soaked, and there’s no way we’ll stil find a club like this, and you- and we-” 

He stops, breath heavy and shaking. There it is again, that stupid lump in his throat. Yuri huffs, wipes at his face angrily. He’s not crying, he’s not. But. He feels like he could, and that would just be fucking embarrassing. 

Otabek looks like he wants to say something, and he’s still furrowing his brows, mouth somewhat twisted. The knowledge that Yuri put that expression on his face hurts. He doesn’t think he could bear whatever Otabek is going to say, so he starts talking again before Otabek gets the chance. 

“I just… this is all my fault. I really wanted you to have a good day. I wanted you to have a great birthday, but it’s my fault we can’t get into any clubs, and that we’re even out here in the first place, and I just, I’m so sorry, Beka.” 

He sounds pathetic, he knows that. But he can’t stop talking. Now that he’s started, the words are spilling out uncontrollably. 

“But, Yura, none of this is your fault,” Otabek tries to interrupt him, but Yuri barely hears him, is already talking again, words tumbling out fast. 

“This is fucking miserable, Beka. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here now. You could just… I don’t know, do something actually nice instead of freezing your ass off in this shit weather. Fuck, it’s your birthday, and it’s just… fucking ruined. I should have just stayed in Russia, let you spend the day with someone else, so you could actually have a good day. This must be the worst birthday ever, fuck-” 

“Yura! Shut up,” Otabek interrupts him. 

Yuri is so surprised by the firmness of his voice, by the hands landing on his shoulders, that he actually does what he’s told for once. 

Otabek is staring at him very intently, but he doesn’t seem angry. He doesn’t seem even a little bit pissed, or sad or disappointed. There’s none of that on his face. Just… fond exasperation, maybe. Yuri isn’t exactly sure, and he is very confused about it. Otabek looks at him steadily, dark eyes unwavering, lips a straight line. 

“Yura. You need to calm down, okay?” 

Yuri can’t do anything but nod, eyes wide. 

Otabek is very close to him. 

Yuri can almost feel it when he sighs. 

“None of this is your fault, alright? You can’t control the clubs’ rules, or the damn weather,” Otabek says, and now he really does sound exasperated. 

“But this is still terrible-” Yuri starts, but then Otabek’s grip on his shoulders tightens, shutting him up again. 

“No, it’s not. This… Yura, this birthday hasn’t been terrible at all, don’t you understand that?” 

Otabek lets out a breathy chuckle, somewhat unsure, maybe, before he shakes his head and continues. 

“There is no one I would rather spend my birthday with, Yura. I wanted you here, with me. If you’d stayed home, that would have made this day terrible. I don’t care about all that other stuff. Sure, it’s not ideal…” 

And he laughs again, and Yuri can feel his throat going dry, his palms sweating all of a sudden, despite the cold. 

“But. None of that matters. Not as long as you’re here, Yura,” Otabek says softly. 

Yuri thinks he might die. That he might drop dead on the spot, because his heart is beating so fast, there’s no way it won’t just jump out of his chest. Otabek is looking at him with his eyes so big, and so open and honest, and so fucking sweet, and it’s going to kill Yuri. It really is. 

Otabek clears his throat, somewhat awkwardly, and glances to the side. If Yuri didn’t know any better, he’d say Otabek was blushing, but. Well. It’s hard to tell, in the dark. 

“So. Just. Please don’t beat yourself up over this. I had a really nice day.” 

Yuri swallows, eyes not leaving Otabek’s face. He can’t look away, even if he wanted to. The lump in his throat is receding, but his heart is still beating too fast. The weight of Otabek’s hands on his shoulders is impossible to ignore, and Yuri imagines he can feel the heat of them even through his clothes. 

“I- Are you sure? I mean. This is sorta shitty, right?” he mumbles, nodding his head, indicating the, frankly, still terrible weather. 

Otabek huffs, shrugs.

“I mean, I guess it is. But it could be worse.” 

His hands are still on Yuri’s shoulders. He’s not moving, doesn’t seem like he’s going to take them away anytime soon. It makes Yuri nervous, how close they are, but it also makes him feel something else. Something warm and soft that is reserved only for Otabek.

And, fuck. Yuri can see the droplets of water still clinging to Otabek’s lashes, thinks he could count every single one. He can see the small rivulets running out of his hair and down the side of his face, and the way Otabek’s lips are shimmering. He can see the small flecks of gold in Otabek’s brown eyes, and it’s making him a bit dizzy, how fucking gorgeous Otabek is, even now. 

The urge to kiss him hits Yuri suddenly and with unexpected force. He almost does it right then, but holds himself back at the last second, because this isn’t what he planned, and he can’t just- 

Except he can. 

The plan is fucked anyway. They’re going to go home, not to a club. They won’t end up dancing the way Yuri wanted, and the perfect moment he’s been waiting for, the moment he’s been counting on… it won’t happen. Not the way he thought it would, not tonight. 

And Yuri knows, deep in his bones, that he can’t wait any longer. If he doesn’t do it tonight, it’s entirely possible he’ll combust. 

He’s nervous, of course. So fucking nervous he wants to run away, or puke, or scream, or simply not do it. 

But… there’s the way Otabek is still looking at him, with his eyes so impossibly gentle, and the way Otabek is touching him, has been touching him all night, the hint of a blush on Otabek’s cheeks, and Yuri… Yuri wants him so much. Maybe he even loves him. That’s something that scares him, so he’s been trying not to think about it, but the things he feels or Otabek are so strong, and he’s been feeling this way for so long that he’s almost certain he’s in love with Otabek. 

And fuck, there’s no way he can keep it to himself any longer. 

Yuri clenches his fists, takes a deep breath. This evening may have been an absolute shitshow, but he can still get this right. There’s still a chance that this might work out, and as scared as he is, he’s also hopeful. He does still need to gather all of his courage to finally open his mouth, though. 

“I have another present for you,” Yuri says, voice tight, trembling. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, and there’s no way that’s healthy. 

Otabek tilts his head to the side, clearly not having expected Yuri’s words. 

"What? Another present?”

Yuri nods. He considers backing out, but it’s too late for that now, and he’s never been a quitter. 

“I don’t need another present, Yura. Really, you’ve already given me enough.” 

That makes Yuri smile, just a little bit, because it’s just like Otabek. Always so humble, always so polite.

“I want to give it to you, though,” Yuri says. 

Otabek looks at him for a moment, considering. 

“What is it?” he asks, sounding curious. 

“You have to close your eyes. It’s a surprise,” Yuri whispers. He doesn’t think he has the strength for anything else. 

At first, Otabek simply raises a brow at him, but when Yuri doesn’t explain it any further, he closes his eyes obligingly.

Looking at him now, Yuri feels rooted to the spot, frozen in place. He can’t move. He can’t possibly do this, there’s no way he’ll be able to pull this off. But he has to. He tells himself, again and again, that this is his chance, the moment he’s been waiting for. His heart is doing some truly adventurous things right now. His stomach is in knots, and his hands are shaking. 

Yuri swallows again, takes a deep breath to steady himself. 

And then, before he can change his mind, he leans in, closes the distance between them, and kisses Otabek. 

It’s short, lightning-quick, and very soft. He’s careful about it, because he doesn’t want to mess this up, and he pulls away after only a second. Otabek’s eyes fly open immediately, and he gasps, and Yuri is still close enough to his face that he can feel the puff of breath on his skin. 

Now he really is frozen, waiting, frightened. He has no idea what to do now. Otabek isn’t saying anything, is just staring at him with wide eyes. The longer the silence stretches, the more Yuri starts to regret making a move. He really should have known better, he shouldn’t have done something so impulsive, and though he doubts this is what Yakov had in mind all the times he told Yuri to think before he acts, Yuri can’t help but think that maybe, Yakov was right for once, and this was stupid, incredibly stupid, and now the only real friendship he ever had is ruined…

But then, Otabek starts blushing. And then, a smile spreads on his lips, slow and wide and incredibly beautiful, and really, when Otabek is looking at him like this, Yuri can’t do anything but grin back. It’s a compulsion, he can’t help it. He looks at Otabek, at his smile and his eyes, shining, and… happy. There’s no doubt about it. Otabek looks fucking delighted.

Yuri lets out a breathy little chuckle, and he knows it sounds nervous. Otabek echoes it back, blinking quickly. 

“Uh. Good surprise?” Yuri asks hesitantly, because, with the way Otabek is looking at him, he thinks he might have done the right thing for once, but he can’t be sure until he actually hears him say it. 

Otabek huffs, then nods. 

“Yes. Definitely a good surprise,” he says, and the bone crushing relief that floods Yuri pales in comparison to the absolute euphoria that erupts inside of him as Otabek moves his hands from Yuri’s shoulders to his cheeks and pulls him in again. 

This kiss lasts longer. Yuri closes his eyes as he feels Otabek’s lips against his, and makes a choked off sound in the back of his throat. For a moment, he can’t move, can only concentrate on how warm and soft Otabek’s lips feel, pressed against his, moving slowly. Then, his body finally catches up, and Yuri moves his hands, puts them on Otabek’s hips to pull him closer. The sigh that Otabek breathes against Yuri makes him shiver, in the best possible way. 

He didn’t realize kissing could feel this good, but fuck. It really is amazing. Otabek is soft and careful and gentle, and Yuri thinks he could get lost in this, could spend hours dragging his lips and tongue over Otabek’s, thoughts fuzzy and body warm, everything but Otabek fading away. 

He doesn’t know how long they kiss. Their movements are languid, unhurried, savoring the taste and the feeling of each other, everything sweet and slow like dripping honey. After what could be minutes or hours, they break apart. Yuri is slow to open his eyes, still somewhat dazed. He doesn’t pull away completely, stays close enough that he can still feel Otabek’s breath on his lips. He doesn’t know what to say. There are no words left in his brain. Every thought he ever had has been obliterated by Otabek and his perfect kisses. 

“Are you going to laugh at me if I tell you that this was my birthday wish?” Otabek mumbles, his voice sounding as if it’s coming from very far away.

“Yes,” Yuri says, grinning, and he’s already holding back a laugh.

Otabek sighs. “Damn.” 

That does make Yuri laugh, once, short. Otabek smiles at him, still holding him, hands warming Yuri’s face.

"This automatically makes today the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Otabek admits, and he sounds dazed. Usually, he would never say something so cheesy.

It makes Yuri giggle more, a relieved, happy thing, and Otabek soon joins in. 

Slowly, the outside world is coming back into focus. It’s still raining, though the downpour is less heavy now. It’s also cold, and dark, and Yuri shivers involuntarily as a gust of wind hits his back. Otabek pulls him closer, putting his arms around him. The gesture warms Yuri from the inside out. 

He leans forward again without thinking, and Otabek meets him halfway, and they kiss, still smiling. 

And maybe, this didn’t exactly go according to plan. Maybe, all of this played out completely differently than Yuri would have thought. But still, Yuri can’t exactly complain. Because Otabek’s lips feel extremely good on his. And he knows now, knows that Otabek wants him too, and that makes his chest clench with such intense happiness that he can’t even begin to put it into words. All he can do is pull Otabek closer, kiss him a little bit harder. 

And, as they stand there, lost in each other, Yuri thinks that, all things considered, maybe this day did end up being pretty damn perfect after all.