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The picture has 214,783 likes on Instagram, now.
Otabek doesn't know much about social media, but he's pretty sure that's a lot to receive within two hours of posting.
It's a pretty boring picture, all things considered. Just Otabek sitting in a booth at a cafe, facing the camera. His head rests on his right hand, and the fingers of his other hand are joined with those of the photographer, whom everyone knows to be Yuri himself.
All in all, a fairly standard post on Yuri's Instagram.
Except for the rings, of course.
Otabek hadn't been sure this was the best way to announce their engagement, at first. The rings were hidden fairly well in the composition of the picture - Otabek's behind the rest of his fingers, and Yuri's almost cropped out altogether.
But if there's one thing Yuri's followers have, it's sharp eyes.
Within minutes, people were commenting their congratulations and excitement for them, and the notifications are still rolling in.
Now there are 214,901 likes.
Victor and Yuuri had called them from their home in Japan as soon as they saw the picture, yelling and crying. Yuri had just rolled his eyes with a “yeah, yeah, whatever,” but Otabek had made sure to thank them politely. All the other skaters commented on the picture, too.
Things have cooled down a bit, now, but the likes are still coming.
Yuri leans back in Otabek's lap, tucking his head under Otabek's chin.
“All these years, and my fans are still bat-shit crazy,” he groans.
Otabek hums amusedly.
“I remember how they used to be,” he smirks. “I saved you from them.”
They both fall silent as they remember. Otabek holds Yuri closer in his arms and buries his nose in his hair.
Yuri suddenly huffs.
“I can't believe that was seven years ago.”
Otabek kisses the back of his head in lieu of answering.
Yuri drops his phone into his lap and turns his hand over to admire his ring - a simple silver band, identical to Otabek's.
“And I can't believe I'm getting fucking married,” he adds, quieter.
Otabek smiles softly, reaching up to join their hands together.
He can't believe it, either. Can't believe that he gets to call this beautiful man “mine,” and hold his hand, and wear his ring.
He can't remember a time when he wasn't in love with Yuri, and now here he is, right in his arms.
In his arms.
He still doesn't know how he managed such a feat. By all accounts, Yuri should be with someone much better than him. Someone richer, or friendlier, or… just. Someone better.
But instead, he's with him.
It's unbelievable, almost.
Yuri squeezes his hand gently.
“You're doing that thing, again, aren't you,” he says.
“What thing?”
“You know, where you get all insecure, and shit.”
Otabek sighs.
“Not really,” he says. “I'm just very, very in love with someone very, very much out of my league.”
He can't see Yuri's face, but he's positive he's rolling his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up,” Yuri commands. “No one's out of anyone's league, here. We're equally awesome.”
Otabek huffs.
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
Otabek pauses when he realizes what Yuri just said. A small smile fights its way onto his face. Someday, soon, Yuri's going to say those words to him again, for real, and they'll actually mean something.
“I can't wait to be married to you,” he confesses.
A slight flush runs up Yuri's neck.
“Shit, Beka, don't just say things like that,” comes the obligatory response.
“Why shouldn't I be honest?”
Yuri groans.
“Because it's fucking embarrassing, that's why.”
Otabek lets out a chuckle.
“Fine,” he says. “Then I won't tell you that I'm so excited to be your husband, and that you make me very, very happy, and that I love you more than anything.”
His voice has lowered nearly to a whisper by the time he's finished. Yuri grabs both of Otabek's hands and presses soft, barely-there kisses to his knuckles.
“I love you too.”
The words are whispered into the back of his palms, and Otabek closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest on the crown of Yuri's head.
I don't deserve his love.
The thought is unbidden, but familiar.
He's too good for me.
He squeezes his eyes tighter, trying to block them out. But they don't go away.
They'll never go away. Otabek will never deserve him. He'll just have to learn to live with it.
“Beka?”
His eyes fly open. He realizes his hands are crushing Yuri's fingers, and makes a conscious effort to relax them.
Yuri pulls back to look him in the eye. He looks worried.
“Beka, what's wrong?”
Otabek tries to give him a smile.
“Nothing,” he says.
Yuri scowls.
“If you can be honest about how much you love me, why can't you be honest about everything else?”
He has a point. Otabek sighs.
“I'm just… insecure, and shit. You know how it goes.”
Yuri's face softens.
“I don't always know what you're insecure about, though, so tell me.”
Otabek swallows.
“You're so…” he begins. “You're too good. For me.”
“Shit,” Yuri whispers, closing his eyes. Otabek ignores him and keeps going.
“And you're always going to be too good for me. I'm never going to… to truly deserve you. But I'm too selfish to give you up. So.”
Yuri takes a deep breath before opening his eyes.
“I don't know where this keeps coming from,” Yuri says, “but I've told you already. No one is too good for anyone here.” He clears his throat. “We're going into this as equals, alright?”
Otabek ignores the tear fighting its way down his cheek and nods.
“Shit, don't cry, you know I suck at this…”
He laughs as Yuri brings a hand up to wipe the tear away.
“I know,” he teases.
“You do this on purpose, don't you,” Yuri grumbles. “You get all emotional, just to watch me fail at something.”
Otabek shakes his head, still laughing. Yuri leans up to give him a kiss.
“Shut up.”
Otabek kisses him again, unbelievably happy that Yuri is his.
“We're getting married,” he says wonderingly.
Yuri grins.
“Yeah, we're getting married.”
The phone in Yuri's lap lights up with more notifications, but they ignore it.
Yuri's too busy kissing him.
And Otabek's too busy believing.