Chapter Text
The first time he and Otabek hugged happened a few months after the GPF, a month after Yuri’s sixteenth birthday.
Ever since the Kazakh saved him that day in Barcelona, they had exchanged numbers and talked sporadically throughout the week, despite the time differences between their home countries. They were both busy, especially Yuri who had the Europeans in January before Otabek competed at Four Continents in February, but they made their friendship work with the help of Skype and a variety of other apps—even if it was mostly Yuri encouraging Otabek to use them more and the latter insisting that he was more of a passive user. Yuri noticed, however, that it was Otabek who almost always initiated their conversations every couple of days.
After Europeans, they had their first video call mainly because Otabek wanted to congratulate Yuri “in person” for his new Gold medal. From then on, all their evening talks became video calls, even if they were only five minutes long. Neither understood why just yet, nor would they ever admit it if they did, but they both craved to see the other. They couldn’t wait to meet again at Worlds.
Their friendship progressed from talking about their rivals and the competition circle, to their personal interests, the music they listened to, Yuri’s obsession with cats and Otabek’s love for motorcycles. In the short span of two months, they managed to cover every topic they could think of, until they inevitably reached family life and friendship.
They had never had someone to confide in, so one late Saturday night, when neither knew what to talk about, Yuri, not wanting to go to bed yet after running out of things to chat about, suddenly asked Otabek about his family, which then led to Otabek asking about Yuri’s. And, just like with every conversation they had, they were honest in their answers, moving fluidly from that to the question of friends, realising that they both considered the other their best friend already.
They didn’t cover love or romantic relationships that night, much to the relief of Yuri, who simply did not want to admit that he didn’t really have a lot of experience in that department. He didn’t want to be seen as a loser by his new, cool friend, who had probably had a few romantic partners. Yuri could definitely wait for that one.
When they finally met a couple of weeks later, both of them felt the shift in their relationship. The last time they had seen each other, they were just rivals finding each other again after briefly meeting at a summer camp five years before. Now, they were friends who had to go up against each other. They wanted to do something more than just share a glance or a nod during their practices, but both men were too focused on the competition ahead.
Shortly after Worlds finished, with JJ taking the Gold, Katsudon acquiring another Silver medal and Yuri barely scraping for Bronze, they were standing at the airport about to leave in the direction of their respective gates.
‘So, I guess I’ll see you again when the season starts, right?’ Yuri mumbled a little, looking down, his signature hoodie covering his golden hair and most of his features.
‘Yeah, but we’ll still talk,’ Otabek replied, awkwardly lifting one hand and squeezing Yuri’s shoulder to get him to lift his eyes. It worked. Green met brown for the first time that day, and Otabek couldn’t help but smile at the shorter boy. ‘Congratulations on your Bronze, Yuri. I’m sure you’ll be able to beat JJ next time.’
‘Maybe. But now that Katsudon’s learnt how to skate and Viktor’s coming back…’ he trailed off, consumed by self-doubt thanks to all those articles Otabek saw him read about his Gold at the GPF being a fluke.
But that wasn’t all. Otabek could tell Yuri was still pissed off at having lost against JJ of all people, but he didn’t know what to do to comfort him. So, he did the first thing that came to mind, something he did whenever a person he cared about was feeling down. He took advantage of the hand still resting on Yuri’s shoulder and brought the boy closer to him as he stepped forward, putting both arms around the back of Yuri’s neck. They had been calling each other best friends for two months, surely… this was okay, right?
He felt the younger boy freeze briefly at the contact but quickly relaxed and brought his own arms around Otabek’s middle. They held each other for a few seconds and then stepped back to stand next to their luggage, both trying not to let goofy smiles take over their faces. Yuri cleared his throat and turned to leave, his suitcase in tow. He walked a few paces before looking over his shoulder and saying with a sweet smile:
‘Thank you, Beka. See you in a few months!’ and with that, he walked towards an exasperated Yakov and a bored-looking Lilia, who were waiting for him.
Otabek stood there until his friend’s back got lost among the sea of people moving around the airport and turned to follow his own coach to his gate, all the while covering the little smile that refused to leave his face with his scarf.
Beka, he thought. Yeah, I could get used to that nickname…