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It started the day Otabek stepped into the living room, and Yuri rushed to end a phone call. Granted, he figured it was a coincidence. Things like that happened all the time. There was no reason to get paranoid, right? Especially when immediately after, Yuri smiled and lifted the blanket across his lap, inviting his boyfriend to join him for cuddles and a movie.
Yes, everything was fine.
Or was it?
A few days later, as Otabek entered the kitchen, Yuri shoved what seemed to be some kind of letter back into its envelope before stuffing it into his pants pocket. But once again, he greeted Otabek with a brilliant smile and affection, and as they cooked the evening’s meal together, he relaxed, his concern and confusion melting away more and more every time he stared into that bright emerald gaze.
Yes, everything was fine.
Except it wasn’t.
The next day, Yuri and Mila stopped talking when Otabek returned from his workout. They’d been chittering like little birds a moment before, he heard it through the door. Only to fall so quiet when he stepped inside, the silence made his ears ring. He frowned, and Yuri smiled and welcomed him back like nothing happened, but Mila … she couldn’t even look him in the eye as she tossed out a half-hearted greeting of her own.
Maybe something wasn’t fine.
Or was it?
That weekend, Yuri surprised him with a trip out of the city to a little cottage they’d have all to themselves. Everything was planned; Potya would be with Lilia, their luggage was packed and in the car, Yuri even had a damn itinerary—and it was colour-coded! Yuri was practically vibrating with excitement, but Otabek was caught between gratitude and worry, unsure which emotion to lean into more.
On the one hand, Yuri’d done something absolutely wonderful, and Otabek could imagine how much work had gone into setting everything up. But on the other, Yuri was never this … prepared. He was spontaneous, random. Otabek himself was usually the one to put plans in place, just for his amazing little fireball to scorch half the schedule with a burning, ‘absolutely necessary right the fuck now’ impromptu activity. Or seven. But how could he extinguish his lover’s pure joy and excitement?
So he smiled, embraced Yuri, and kissed his boyfriend. Then they were getting into the car and driving out of the city.
Maybe everything was fine.
Until the next morning. Despite a damn near magical night together—lights off, candles everywhere, the air flooded with lavender and soft music as Yuri rode Otabek so hard, both of them were sore afterward—Otabek woke, rolled over, and Yuri immediately dimmed the screen on his phone and set it aside, moving so fast, he almost dropped the device instead.
“Okay, no.”
Yuri blinked. “What?”
“What the hell is going on?”
His boyfriend frowned. “Ah … it’s morning? We’re in a cabin in the woods? You okay? I knew I rode your brains out, but this is a bit much, Beka.”
Otabek groaned and sat up. “No, Yura. I … something’s going on, and I won’t let you convince me otherwise.”
“Oh, ah—”
“You’ve been acting weird all week—”
“Beka.”
“Ending conversations when I enter a room, hiding things when I come in sight—”
“Beka.”
“What’s this whole weekend about? Did you cheat on me? Do something illegal? Or are you—is this a breakup?!”
“Oh my fucking God, BEKA!” Otabek snapped his jaw shut because Yuri … was laughing?! What the hell? Hot and cold crashed together and raged inside him as Yuri howled, tears building along his lashes. “I’m so sorry! I d-don’t …” He sucked in a shaky breath and wiped his eyes. “I don’t mean to … to laugh. I swear. Fuck, I’m really sorry, Beka.” He shook his head, still grinning. “If it’d realized you’d react like this, I would’ve come clean sooner.”
Cold. Definitely cold. The heat was gone, consumed by the razor-sharp ice dropped into Otabek’s gut. “Come clean … about what? ”
Yuri giggled a little more before finally, mostly, sobering. “This isn’t a fucking breakup. I didn’t cheat. And I’m pretty sure I haven’t done something illegal but don’t quote me on that.”
“Yura!”
“It was a prank.”
Otabek blinked. “I … what was a prank?”
“This. All the weird shit.” Yuri sighed and took Otabek’s hands into his own. “Look, I’m really sorry I worried you, okay? But I thought … I dunno. On Sunday, when you walked in, I honestly had just finished talking with Mila. So I hung up. You just happened to come into the room at the same time. But I saw the flicker of … something on your face. So I just … thought it would be funny to mess with you a little.”
Otabek swallowed. Was he shaking? He was shaking. But it wasn’t from anger. It was from relief. “So … we’re good, then?”
“Very good.”
He groaned and yanked his hands out of Yuri’s, only to pull his boyfriend into a crushing hug. “Don’t do that to me! Damn it, Yura. I was really worried!”
Yuri deflated in his arms and returned the embrace, squeezing just as hard. “I’m sorry, Beka. Really. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to ask me about it.”
“Why, though?”
They parted, if only to allow each other to take full breaths again, and Yura took hold of his partner’s hands once more. “Because … and don’t freak out. but … there was something I didn’t tell you.”
‘Don’t freak out’ he said. Right after giving Otabek a bloody heart attack. “Yura, for the love of—please don’t do this to me again.”
“Right, sorry.” Yuri smiled, though. And it was … soft, sweet even? Almost apologetic? Otabek wanted to let it wash over him, wanted to return it. But he just stared, frozen, too exhausted from the whiplash of the last few minutes. “When I was talking with Mila that day, on the phone, I realized I was finally ready to say something. And I was asking for her advice on how to do it.”
“So all this is her fault?”
“What? No. No, no! It was my idea. Fuck, Beka. Don’t go after her or anything. Actually, she was entirely against this whole thing. It’s why she was so quiet on Wednesday when you came home.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Otabek deadpanned.
“I know, I know. Now. But anyway.” Yuri sat up a little straighter and though he winced a bit in the process, his smile returned a heartbeat later. He gazed into Otabek’s eyes and he squeezed his hands before saying, “I love you, Beka.”
Silence.
Yuri stared.
Otabek stared.
Yuri swallowed, his eyes wide. “Ah … okay, so um … now’s not the time to prank me back, but please fucking tell me that’s what you’re doing. That I didn’t just … fuck. Um … Okay, shit. Well, look, you don’t need to say it back or anything. I—fuck, sorry. It’s just—”
Otabek surged forward and captured Yura in a deep, searing kiss. The ice had melted, the fire was back in his gut, but this time for all the right reasons. Was he over being jerked around, and not in the fun way? No. Not yet. But he would be soon enough, so that didn’t matter. What mattered were those four little, yet bigger-than-life words. They’d never said it before. They’d waited, wanting to be sure they really meant it, felt it, first. And now that he wasn’t being eaten alive from the inside anymore, Otabek could appreciate the utterly romantic getaway Yuri had planned for them just so he could finally say it. Sure, it wasn’t Barcelona, but it was Yuri’s plan. Which was just as perfect.
Well, almost.
Pulling back enough to whisper into the hair’s width of space between their lips, Otabek said, “I love you, too.”
Yes, now everything really was fine.