#He definitely Clocked me as a Russian speaker because he makes sure to talk to me every time

[chicago-geniza]

Everyone is exasperated about him but I have a deep and abiding fondness for the geriatric Russian man who comes to all our events, asks "more of a comment than a question" exclusively to play devil's advocate with the speaker, then steals several books while making direct eye contact as he leaves the store. Unfortunately he reminds me of my parents (affectionate/derogatory)

[the-lincyclopedia]

Happy New Year, Otabek! Chapter 4: Midnight Kiss

Fanfiction.net is being extremely uncooperative and not letting me upload anything right now, so here’s the fourth chapter of “Happy New Year, Otabek!” Remember, Yuri is 19 and Otabek is 22 here. If you want to read the first three chapters, they’re here.

Otabek’s friend Timur drove Otabek to the airport to pick up Yuri, since Otabek only has a motorcycle and not a car, so the three of them ride back to Otabek’s apartment together. They chat comfortably on the way there—Timur is extremely laid back and easy to get along with, the opposite of quick-tempered Yuri, and Yuri’s pretty sure that Timur is Otabek’s best Kazakh friend for that very reason. No one could stand being surrounded by profane time bombs all the time, after all.

When they get to Otabek’s apartment, Timur stays for a single drink—everyone has beer—before heading home, and then Yuri and Otabek make themselves comfortable on a sofa and talk for a while about nothing and everything. It’s easy to talk to Otabek, but at the same time Yuri’s crush is very much at the forefront of his mind, and he’s dying to ask Otabek about what he said that night at the hotel. He doesn’t, though, and finally both of them get ready for bed and go to sleep. They both sleep in Otabek’s bed, which is plenty big enough for two people, and Yuri longs to snuggle up next to Otabek, at the very least, but he forces himself to turn his back to Otabek and fall asleep in his usual position on his side.

He wakes up with one of Otabek’s arms around him. He tries to stay still and treasure the feel of the contact, but he must tense up or something, because suddenly Otabek’s breathing shifts and he retracts his arm. Yuri turns to face Otabek, and he can’t tell from the small amount of light making it around Otabek’s blackout curtains, but he thinks Otabek might be blushing.

“Beka—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Yura,” Otabek interrupts, uncharacteristically gruffly.

Yuri wraps his arms around himself, trying not to show his disappointment. “Oh. Okay.”

“Yura . . .”

Yuri glances over at Otabek. “What?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Yuri says, because it’s true.

Otabek sighs. “Any chance you can fall back asleep?”

“What time is it?” The clock is on Otabek’s side of the bed.

“Seven forty.”

It’s Yuri’s turn to sigh. “Probably not.”

Otabek sits up. “All right. What do you want for breakfast?”

“You don’t have to cook for me, Beka.”

“You’re my guest. I want to. Besides, I know how much you like blini.” Blini were thin, crepe-like Russian pancakes.

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Yes, I like them. That doesn’t mean you have to make them every time I visit you. They’re not even in my diet plan!”

“And you’ve cared about your diet plan since when?” Otabek asks.

“I don’t, not really, but they take so much effort to make.”

“I don’t mind, Yura.” Otabek gets out of bed. “Unless you don’t want them, I’m making them.”

“Okay, fine,” says Yuri. Then, grudgingly, he adds, “Thank you.”

After breakfast, which Yuri assures Otabek is delicious, because it is, the two deliberate briefly about what to do before heading to Otabek’s home rink, mostly because it’s too cold to have a good time taking the motorbike anywhere. Otabek told his coach that he may or may not come to practice that day, but now practice seems like as good an idea as any, as long as he can head out early enough to buy booze and cook dinner for tonight’s party. It won’t be the first time that Yuri’s trained with at Otabek’s rink; in fact, Otabek’s coach keeps up a continuous correspondence with Yakov about Yuri and Otabek’s routines so that either coach is ready to work with either skater at a moment’s notice. Yuri is endlessly grateful to both coaches for doing that for them; he’s never said as much to Yakov, but he’s voiced it to Otabek’s coach because he knows he can’t get away with being a foul-mouthed, ungrateful brat to strangers, and Otabek has thanked both of the coaches as well, so Yuri figures everything’s cool.

Yuri and Otabek both spend the morning running their routines. Yuri’s mostly focused on his free skate, where he’s trying to fit in as many jumps as possible and isn’t always managing to land all of them. He lands enough to rank first at nearly every competition, but that’s not the same as perfection. Otabek, meanwhile is focusing on his short program. Yuri is always in awe of Otabek’s skating, not least of all because Otabek does all his choreography by himself. Since becoming friends with Otabek, Yuri has started taking some ownership of his choreography, but he always works in tandem with Lilia or Victor to craft a program, whereas Otabek just does it all himself. Otabek is really the most independent skater Yuri knows, picking his own music as well, and Yuri admires that. If Otabek didn’t pick such awesome music for him, and if Lilia and Victor weren’t so helpful with choreography, Yuri might try to be more independent, but as things stand he’s content to admire Otabek and ask for help himself. Not, of course, that he ever phrases his requests as asking for help—not with anyone other than Otabek, that is—but still.

After lunch, Yuri and Otabek head to a liquor store to buy alcohol for the evening, and then they return to Otabek’s apartment to start making dinner. Yuri usually hates cooking, and he still lives with Lilia, who has a cook, but for some reason he doesn’t mind making food when it’s with Otabek, so what little he knows about cooking (and he used to know nothing, like, not even how to boil an egg) is stuff he’s learned from Otabek. The two of them make piroshky, which Otabek learned to make from Nikolai just for Yuri and then taught Yuri how to make, and they also make mutton and a Kazakh dessert called sheck-sheck, which is like a doughnut. They’re just wrapping up the meal preparations when someone knocks on Otabek’s door.

“I’ll get it,” Yuri says, since Otabek isn’t quite done with the food. He goes to the door and opens it to find Serik, the oldest of Otabek’s Kazakh friends, whom Otabek knows from DJing. “Where’s your sister?” Yuri asks. Serik’s younger sister, Aliya, is Otabek’s age and is one of Otabek’s childhood friends.  

Serik shoulders his way past Yuri and into the apartment. “Hello to you too,” he says in Russian, which is the language Otabek’s friends speak when Yuri’s around. Yuri and Otabek often speak English rather than Russian, especially when they’re around other skaters. Otabek perfected his English when he lived in Canada, but Otabek’s friends seem more comfortable in Russian, and Yuri’s not going to complain about that, even if he does have trouble with their accents sometimes. “Aliya and I don’t live together, you know.”

Otabek stops messing with the food to hug Serik, and soon the three of them are joking like no time has passed since Yuri’s last visit. Then Timur shows up with his girlfriend, Gulnaz. A few minutes later, Nurzhan comes, bearing so much alcohol that Yuri would think that he and Otabek hadn’t needed to shop for booze if he hadn’t known from past experience that Nurzhan would probably drink most of the alcohol he brought himself. Aliya shows up last, face pinkened from the cold, and at that point the real fun can begin.

Serik hooked his phone up to Otabek’s speakers without even asking permission, and he’s kept a good, upbeat playlist going ever since he arrived. Yuri’s been casually moving to the music the whole time, unable to keep his body from responding when moving to music is basically one definition of what he does for a living. Once Aliya arrives, the dancing begins in earnest. Aliya is a ballerina in nearly the same sense that Otabek and Yuri are skaters; she’s very, very good, enough so that dancing is her job. Yuri loves listening to Otabek and Aliya tell stories about each other from when they were growing up. They went to the same schools as children, and they were by far the most athletic, graceful, competitive kids in their classes, which made them close friends from a very young age. The only reason they haven’t dated is because they’re both completely gay.

After dancing for a while, everyone gets food from the kitchen and then settles down on Otabek’s three sofas to eat and talk. Each of the sofas is really a two-seater, but Otabek is squished between Yuri and Aliya and doesn’t seem to mind. Across from them, Gulnaz has her legs in Timur’s lap, while next to them Serik and Nurzhan are both on their third beers.

After dinner, Nurzhan suggests a game of truth-or-dare and gets soundly ribbed by everyone else for being the youngest one in the group (other than Yuri, of course, but he’s not really a part of the group) and for still acting like a teenager. Then Timur suggests playing “Never have I ever” as a drinking game.

Everyone’s on the verge of sloppy drunk by ten p.m., which Yuri thinks is the only saving grace of the whole game. It Otabek is any drunker than he is, then maybe he won’t remember anything from the game in the morning. Maybe neither of them will. That would be nice, given the kinds of things Yuri has just had to admit to doing. Otabek already knew him better than anyone else, but there were still things that Yuri kept private. Everyone deserves privacy, in Yuri’s opinion, and the media already tries to get through his on a regular basis. He didn’t need Serik’s “Never have I ever daydreamed about kissing Otabek” (Timur and Yuri both had to drink to that) or Gulnaz’s “Never have I ever wanted to sleep with someone I was rooming with” (Yuri, Otabek, Aliya, and Timur drank) to reveal his secrets.

Although, why did Otabek drink when Gulnaz said that? Does it have anything to do with Yuri? Otabek is gay, after all, and he had roommates when he trained in Canada, so maybe it was one of them? Otabek’s never talked about any of them like that, at least not to Yuri, but then, Yuri and Otabek don’t literally tell each other everything.

Or is it Yuri?

Yuri’s distracted rather easily from this train of thought at ten when Gulnaz declares that the drinking game has gone on long enough and it’s time to dance again. Serik and Otabek argue over whose playlist they should dance to, and Otabek eventually wins by pointing out that it’s his apartment and Serik played music earlier. Yuri is glad that Otabek wins the argument, because, good as Serik’s music was, Otabek’s music is the best. Yuri likes dancing, but he especially likes dancing to music that Otabek picked. It almost feels like dancing with Otabek himself, a rare experience given how little Otabek likes to dance.

Otabek is dancing now, though. Well, everyone is dancing, but what matters is Otabek. Yuri makes his way over to his best friend, but Nurzhan beats him to it and starts dancing with Otabek. Watching the two of them dance together, their bodies in contact, suddenly takes all the joy out of dancing for Yuri, and he goes over and sits back on the sofa.

Aliya notices him and comes over. “What’s up?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Yuri replies.

“It’s Beka and Nurzhan, isn’t it?” she says.

“How did you know?” Yuri asks.

“Everyone can see the way you two look at each other,” Aliya replies. “You need to talk to him.”

“We did talk,” Yuri says. “Three weeks ago when he was drunk at a banquet. He told me to forget about it in the morning.”

“Then you need to talk again,” Aliya tells him. “He probably was just worried that you only said what you said because he was drunk and you felt the need to keep him happy, or because you thought he was going to forget.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Yuri asks. It’s the sort of thing he would say to Mila or Victor, and it’s not entirely fair to Aliya, but he’s drunk and not in the mood to be polite.

“Because I’ve known Beka almost our whole lives, and I know he wants you.”

Yuri’s eyes widen. “He does?”

“Yeah,” says Aliya.

“Okay,” Yuri says, getting up off the sofa. He would have taken more convincing if he were sober, but as it is he wends his way over to Nurzhan and Otabek, not entirely steady on his feet. “Beka,” he says, louder than he means to, when he reaches them. “Can we talk?”

Otabek looks at him blurrily and says, “Yura? What’s going on?”

“Can we talk? Please?” Yuri says.

“Okay,” says Otabek, and he blessedly detaches himself from Nurzhan and heads more or less in the direction of his bedroom.

Yuri follows and shuts the door to Otabek’s bedroom when they finally reach it before joining Otabek to sit on the bed.

“What’s going on?” Otabek asks.

“I know you want to forget what happened after the banquet,” Yuri says, “but I need to talk about it.”

“No, Yura,” says Otabek.

“Please, Beka,” Yuri replies, just as forcefully.

“Why?” Otabek demands.

“Because I meant what I said!” Yuri shouts, far louder than he means to. More quietly, he continues, “I would date you, Beka, if you liked me. So I need to know whether you like me or not.”

“Don’t mess with me like this, Yura, please,” Otabek murmurs.

“I—what?! Beka, I’m not messing with you!” Yuri insists. “I want to date you and that’s the truth! Now please, tell me, do you want that too?”

The only answer Yuri gets are Otabek’s lips crashing down on his own. Yuri opens his mouth as soon as he realizes what happens, and his tongue tangles with Otabek’s. They both taste like alcohol, which wouldn’t have been Yuri’s ideal, but he’s more than willing to handle it if it means he can kiss Otabek. It’s hardly his first kiss—he’s fooled around with a number of guys in the last few years—but it is the first kiss he’s ever had that’s meant something, and he realizes that part of him has been waiting for this ever since Barcelona. He never realized how good it would feel to kiss someone whose lips he’d dreamt about, whose touch he’d craved, while that someone’s hands tangled in his hair. He leans into the kiss and remembers to breathe through his nose as he tries to drink in everything about Otabek.

It feels like multiple minutes before they break apart. It’s Otabek who pulls back first, and Yuri has a moment of panic before Otabek rests his forehead against Yuri’s and sighs. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he whispers.

“How long?” Yuri breathes back.

“A year? Two years? It’s hard to tell when it started.”

“We’ve wasted so much time,” Yuri marvels. “I’ve wanted it for at least a year as well.”

“So you weren’t lying, after the banquet.”

“Beka, why would I lie to you?”

“How could it be the truth?” Otabek replied, skimming a hand down Yuri’s back.

“Because I lo—like you like that,” Yuri says, catching himself just before he almost says the L-word. What just happened? It’s probably just because he’s drunk.

“Be my boyfriend?” Otabek asks.

“Yes,” Yuri breathes against Otabek’s mouth before kissing him again.

Some time later, when they break apart next, Otabek murmurs, “The party.”

“Fine,” Yuri grumbles, and he lets Otabek pull him to his feet.

The two make their way back out of Otabek’s room and into the living room, where Aliya and Nurzhan are dancing. Timur and Gulnaz are making out on one of the sofas. Yuri’s tempted to emulate them, but Otabek starts dancing and there’s no way Yuri’s going to give up an opportunity to dance with Otabek. They can make out again later. As he moves against Otabek, Yuri thinks that the only other thing that has ever felt this perfect is the kissing he and Oabek just did.

Yuri has totally forgotten it’s New Year’s Eve when suddenly Aliya starts shouting numbers in backward order. Then he realizes it’s a countdown to midnight. He starts screaming along with the countdown, mixing up the order of some of the numbers in the teens, but, when he gets to seven, Otabek’s mouth meets his, and Yuri doesn’t care about shouting numbers anymore.

The kiss lasts until Nurzhan knocks into Otabek and say, “Get a room already.”

Otabek stumbles backward a few steps but then says, “You know, that sounds like an excellent idea.” He takes Yuri’s hand and pulls him toward his bedroom. When the two of them reach the doorway, Otabek says, “The rest of you do what you want. I mean, you should probably stay over, since you’re drunk. But like, yeah, do what you want. I’m going to spend the night with Yuri. Don’t bother us; you know where everything is.”

“Have fun!” Aliya shouts, while Nurzhan just yells, “Okay!” Timur and Gulnaz are too busy making out to reply.

Yuri and Otabek make it to the bed and then topple onto it, and they have to wriggle a bit to get all the way onto the bed and into a position where they can make out. Once they’re there, though, Yuri can think of nothing but Otabek, Otabek, and more Otabek.

It’s finally happening.

[poppysicle]

some drabble at 12:15 AM

description: yuri talks to victor on the phone about what love is to him, as reference for him to understand his feelings about a certain boy who’s name starts with o and ends with k

also this is my first time even writing about otayuri and i think the ship is pretty cute okay but yeah, oops.

the time on the small, clock that stood in the darkness on the bed side table read 2:45 AM. victor didn’t know why he was awake at a time like this, especially with practice in the morning. he shifted his head to find yuuri’s body pressed into him, his head tucked into the middle of victor’s bare back. the younger man was sleeping soundly, victor smiled fondly and shifted off the bed carefully. 

since he was up, he might as well get a drink. adjusting the blankets back onto his sleeping lover, victor grabbed his phone off the charger and slipped into a pair of sweats that belonged to yuuri (it was left on the floor by accident in his offense). 

heading out of the room to not disturb yuuri’s slumber. once in the kitchen, victor placed his phone down on the island and opened the fridge. being blinded by the bright light, he grasped for the bottle of water on the side and shutting it. 

victor unlocked his phone, greeted with a message that had been sent not too long ago. 

yuri - u up? 

the message was sent about five minutes ago, victor realized he didn’t put his vibration back on after seeing a film with yuuri for their date last night. victor decided to reply, curious about why the teenager texted him this late.

victor - yeah, what’s up? 

he chugged after the bottle before his phone went off this time and he unlocked it to read. 

yuri - can i call you and ask you something? 

yuri wants to call him? out of all the people in the world? 

now victor was extremely curious, he glanced down the hallway to find nothing before pressing the call button and bringing the phone to his ear. it rung a couple times before there was a shuffle of what sounded like the other side picked up.

“hey,” yuri murmured, victor smiled graciously.

“hi, yurio. something on your mind?”

there was a slight scowl at the end of the phone line after victor saying the given nickname, “i wanted to ask you something.”

“shoot then.” victor replied, wandering into the living space to sit comfortably on the couch with his water bottle on the coffee table.

the apartment was quiet, victor prayed he wasn’t going to wake his poor yuuri that was still tired from today’s practice and antics. yuri collected himself, huffing in annoyance at what seems to be himself. victor let him take his time during the few minutes of comfortable silence between the skaters.

“can you- can you like tell me what you think love is?”

“love?”

yuri paused, “yeah. the mushy stuff you feel for katsudon.”

“oh, that kind of love!” victor grinned, “why?”

“can you just tell me?” the young boy replied, victor could hear his eye roll and chuckled softly.

“alright, alright. when you mean what i think love is, are you asking me to describe what i feel for yuuri?”

“kinda, in a way.”

victor pulled his lips into a tight line but let it go, he’s only 16 and he’s still got a long way to go. plus, talking about yuuri to yuri is a once in a lifetime chance and best believe he will take it. the russian got comfortable on the couch, laying back on the pillow away from the hallway he hoped yuuri wouldn’t come from.

“okay, i can work with that.”

yuri didn’t reply, only waiting for what victor had to say. victor put his phone on speaker, setting it down on his chest as he stared into the ceiling above him. collecting all the memories about yuuri since day one and it caused a smile to quirk from his lips.

“one of the best things i have ever gotten out of loving him is that i have discovered my own definition of love.” victor started carefully, not hesitating his words. “love is different for everyone and it’s rare that you find someone that is the whole idea that you have in mind. it’s an interesting process because it can either be one of the best things that has ever happened to you or break you into a million pieces. but no matter what, love is beautiful. in any shape or form.”

“something i have grown to love about yuuri is the entirety of who we are as a whole, it isn’t victor and yuuri. it’s more victorandyuuri. if you catch my drift, it’s as if we are one person together and i love that. i love that he is the one who could sign my hospital documents with ease and remember my order at restaurants without having to ask and reminding me of tasks and goals i have in mind. love is support.”

“there are times i wonder how i was able to live without love, how i was able to push it aside with a problem. yuuri makes it so hard to push it aside, he makes it worth something. having someone who makes anything worth it in the end is amazing, it makes you feel powerful knowing that you have that person by your side to guide you physically and mentally while you do the same for them.”

“love is a two person job, never has it ever been one person does it all,” victor coughed quietly and continued his words. “love is being able to connect with each other and not have a problem with it. discussing problems and coming up with a solution. never giving up no matter the circumstances. because love involves trust and trust involves working together.”

“things are hard to explain when speaking about love, yuri. i hope you know that because everyone has it different whether it be yuuri and i, sara and michele, or otabek and you.” the older man heard a soft huff and let it go to keep talking. “it’s different but that’s what is unique about love. no one has the same type of love. it’s all individual.”

“i could go on about the differences but i think i know where this is going. love to me, personally, is life. i feel so much positive energy around yuuri everyday. i feel as if i am the luckiest man in the world the moment he wakes up next to me. i am on cloud 9 when i go to the rink with him. i look forward to living each day knowing he is going to be there with me all the time, he is my muse. my love. my entire soul.”

victor paused to see if yuri was still there, “a very important thing about love, love is home. it’s the absolute comfort that you can go anywhere with that person whether it be to the grocery store, a movie theater, competitions, or a new country. it will always feel like home because they are there. which is beautiful in my opinion,” victor sighed with a soft laugh. “god, i’m so in love. i hate that i didn’t meet yuuri sooner.”

“yuri..” victor whispered quietly and felt the question on the tip of his tongue, “do you like someone.”

“what makes you think that?” yuri finally spoke up, victor hummed in content while shutting his eyes.

“i don’t know, why would you be asking me this question?”

“i-” yuri stopped his words, letting silence fill the room. all victor could hear was the soft snores by the dining room table where makkachin slept in the bed that yuuri got them as a gift on christmas. yuri shuffled again, the noise in the phone ringing victor’s ears. “i like someone, yeah.”

a smile grew leathily on victor’s face, “who?”

“you know him.”

“otabek, right?”

the phone on the other line sounded like it dropped, the russian heard a few cuss words in russian making him chuckle.

“how do you know?”

“i didn’t.”

“what?”

he bit down on his lip before speaking up, “a few days ago. yuuri asked me about otabek, wondering what your status was with him since he came to visit you for the week last week? yuuri suspected something between you because of the way otabek looked at you.”

a stutter from yuri caused victor to laugh, “what is that katsudon being nosy about?”

“is he not wrong?” victor asked amused, yuri hushed after.

“so what? i happen to like him, yeah. i don’t know what to do though.”

“how do i just tell him? what if he-”

“-yuri! otabek probably likes you. i am 100 percent sure of it, take it from yuuri. that man knows it all.” victor murmured, hearing pattering of feet on the floor.

his eyes shot open to find yuuri standing at the hallway arc, wearing victor’s shirt and tight briefs. yuuri rubbed his eye sleepily, his bed head everywhere. victor noticed yuuri’s mouth open slightly, but it was cut off but yuri’s words.

“everytime i am around beka, i get nervous. my hands get sweaty and my body gets really hot. i never had that problem before, especially around people i am close with.” yuri started with a sigh, “he’s my first actual best friend and i don’t want to ruin it. but every time i see him, i feel like you when you’re around yuri. i want to hold his hand and kiss his stupid face and see him smile.”

yuuri paused to process the thing going on, victor held the phone up and put his fingers on his lips. he motioned his lap, yuuri walked over carefully to plop down on victor’s lap and curl into his body. his hands around him, cozying up with him. 

“that’s not weird at all,” victor replied, “people have that happen all the time when they make friends.”

“yeah but it’s different, i have never liked someone before. i don’t know what you’re suppose to do or say. beka is great, i want to see him all the time and talk to him whenever we have a chance.”

“tell him, you won’t regret it.”

the younger boy spoke weakly, “what if i do?”

yuuri picked his head up to face victor, their eyes both shocked by the sound of how vulnerable yuri spoke to him. they stayed quiet as it sounded like yuri was going to continue speaking.

“i really like otabek, i actually want to love him too. but, i am so nervous to tell him. should i just do it?”

victor smiled with empathy, “why don’t you do it the next time you see him in person? aren’t you going to almaty to spend time with him for the week as well soon? tell him then.”

“you think so?”

“do it for yuuri, he’d be proud.”

victor pressed a soft kiss on yuuri’s temple, smiling when yuri groaned.

“you guys aren’t my parents.”

“we could be, if you’d just let us.”

yuri thought a moment, “thanks for.. for talking to me about this.”

“anytime, if you need anything from yuuri and i. let us know, okay?”

“okay.”

the phone call ended, victor set his phone on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around his lover. yuuri pressed a soft kiss on his jawline, peering at him in the darkness.

“what are you doing up?”

“i woke up on accident so i came out here to get a drink but then yuri said he wanted to talk.”

yuuri smiled, embracing victor in his arms and sighed happily. they sat together in a comfortable silence until victor tapped yuuri’s thighs, he complied and wrapped his legs around his waist. the russian hoisted the both of them up together, gripping yuuri’s thighs securely as he walked back into the bedroom.

“i heard you, you know?” yuuri whispered into his ear, sending a chill down victor’s spine.

“all of it?”

“all of it,” yuuri replied without missing a beat.

“good,” victor whispered, laying yuuri down on the bed and stroking his cheek fondly, “cause it’s all true.”