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Bundled up and ready to brace the snow outside, Yuri Plisetsky walked out first, followed by Otabek. The two settled into a comfortable silence, and Yuri, while knowing the route by heart, found himself looking up at the other skater with a curious glint to his eyes.
He didn’t look down to meet his gaze but it was as though he was aware, and if he was, he didn’t show any sign of discomfort.
“Beka,” he called. Otabek turned his head slightly to face him.
“Yeah, Yuri?”
Yuri paused. Heat graced his cheeks and he hoped that his friend wouldn’t point it out much less comment on it. He held out a clenched fist. “Can you hold this for me?”
Otabek looked at his hand, then held out his own, palm facing upwards under his fist. “Sure.”
Yuri quickly laced their fingers together as soon as their hands made contact. From his peripheral vision, he could see the slight upturn of Otabek’s smile. His insides fluttered.
Score.