Yuri walked home after a long day at the rink. Victor and Yuuri were as useless as usual, spending more time flirting with each other than coaching their student. Luckily, Russia's top skater could take care of himself, only needing occasional advice from his annoying coaches. Yuri had tried to reject them when they offered to be his coaches after their retirement and subsequent wedding two years ago, but without preparations for competitions to keep them busy they only became more obnoxious, and Yuri couldn't take it. Thus, after a long, single day of resistance Yuri caved, and the power couple of figure skating became his coaches. (He would never admit it, but the thought of being coached by the couple hadn't annoyed him as much he made it seem.)
He had, however, held his ground when Yuuri offered him their spare bedroom. There was no way he could stand that much time with them, especially when the walls of their apartment were that thin. Instead, he had settled down in his own apartment a few blocks away from Victor and Yuuri. He enjoyed the peace and quiet with his cat for a few months, but eventually the solitude caught up with him and even his nightly Skype calls with Otabek weren't keeping the loneliness safely repressed. He had mentioned this to Otabek one night, offhandedly joking that he should come to St. Petersburg and move into his second bedroom. Evidently sarcasm doesn't translate well over Skype, since Otabek gave him one of those butterfly-inducing smiles reserved only for Yuri and started looking at ticket prices. Yuri didn't bother to correct him since the thought of Otabek constantly being a room away was strangely comforting.
Otabek had finally moved in after the Grand Prix Final a few months later (where Yuri had won gold yet again, Otabek at his side with silver). Now, after having lived together for over a year, they had become accustomed to each other's presence and had no thoughts of changing their living arrangements anytime soon. Living in such close proximity to another skater had brought out even more competitiveness between the two of them and gave them both their best season yet. The media and their competitors had high expectations for them for the current season, at least until Otabek severely injured his ankle early-on at Skate America, taking him out for the rest of the season. Otabek was of course disappointed, but Yuri was more upset about the situation than his friend was. It took weeks of Otabek's reassurance that he wouldn't let the injury be the end of his career and dozens of promises to attend all of his competitions before Yuri was back to being himself. Besides, it always gave Yuri a hint of excitement knowing that his friend would be waiting at home when he got back from practice.
Today was no exception. Once he entered their building and climbed a flight of stairs, he headed down the hall to their apartment. He pulled out his keys when he reached the door, and he heard the familiar hurried shuffle of a book and the TV remote from inside. Yuri sighed and rolled his eyes. No matter how many times he told him it was stupid, Otabek still insisted on stopping whatever he was doing when the sound of Yuri's keys announced his arrival so that he could give Yuri his full attention to welcome him home. Yuri always scoffed at this and barked at him to "stop acting like a stupid dog waiting for his owner!" This house was for cats, damn it, there was no room for dogs. Unfortunately, the angry little blush that appeared on Yuri's face every time he yelled just made Otabek want to do it more.
Yuri unlocked the door and took a deep breath in preparation for what was to come. In retrospect the deep breath was a good decision, because once he opened the door and caught sight of Otabek, he stopped breathing entirely.
When he saw Otabek perched on the couch with dog ears on his head and a lopsided smirk across his face, he immediately regretted ever comparing his friend to a dog. (Surely that twitching feeling near his stomach was regret, right?) Yuri stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, his usual blush creeping onto his face even without his usual yelling. "W-what is that?"
Otabek's smirk only grew. "Welcome home, Yuri."
Yuri finally convinced his hands to work long enough to get the door closed. "What. The hell. Is that?! There are no dogs allowed in my home."
Otabek cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry. Have I been a bad boy?"
Yuri sputtered as his bag fell crashing to the floor. "E-excuse me?"
"Aww, have I? I was hoping I'd get a treat today," Otabek pouted.
"Where the hell did you even get those?" Yuri gasped, pointing at the ears.
Otabek chuckled and leaned back on the couch, fiddling with the dog ears as he spoke: "I bought them earlier. Have you really been working under the delusion that I stay home all day doing nothing but wait for you to come home? I guess you really do think I'm like a dog." He winked.
Somehow Yuri's blush managed to grow even stronger. He walked toward his bedroom and muttered, "Whatever, just take the damn things off." He closed his door as soon as he got to his room.
Yuri was infuriated that his best friend could be so childish despite being over two years his senior. What was he trying to accomplish with that trick? He headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Even though he managed to rid his face of that awful blush, he found himself unable to shake the picture of Otabek with dog ears from his mind. He couldn't figure out why. He trudged over to his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Oh no, closing his eyes only made the mental pictures stronger. Yuri could admit that his best friend was spectacularly handsome—anyone with eyes could see that—but for some reason the damn dog ears only seemed to make him more attractive. Yuri had occasionally let his mind wander over the years, imagining what it would be like to kiss Otabek (and maybe a bit more), but he had convinced himself that it was nothing and attributed it to teenage hormones. Unfortunately, his excuse began to wear thin when he wasn't a teenager anymore and the hormones were still very much there.
He heard a knock at the door. "Yuri? Are you okay?" In stark contrast to his behavior a few minutes ago, Otabek sounded genuinely concerned. "I'm sorry if I upset you. Can I come in?"
Yuri blinked. "Have you—are they still—"
"I took them off."
Yuri sighed, still hiding his face in his pillow. "Sure." Otabek opened the door. He sat down on Yuri's bed and waited for the younger man to speak. He didn't.
Otabek broke the silence. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you."
That wasn't what Yuri was expecting. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I wasn't trying to make fun of you for thinking I act like a dog. If anything it's kind of endearing when you say that to me. I thought the ears would make you laugh." At this, Yuri did start laughing. Otabek continued, "That is why you're upset, isn't it? I guess it wasn't really a good idea. They looked really dumb."
Yuri sighed into his pillow again. "They didn't look dumb," he muttered.
Confusion spread across Otabek's face. "T-they didn't?"
Shit. Yuri didn't think he had said that out loud, and he definitely didn't expect Otabek to understand his words so clearly when they were muffled by his pillow. There was no digging himself out of this one with a lie; Otabek had already heard too much. "They looked good," he whispered even more quietly, hoping that by some miracle Otabek would mishear his words in a way that didn't make it sound like Yuri had just called his best friend hot.
"Good?" Otabek said, trying to ignore the feeling of warmth that began rising to his cheeks.
Yuri's mind desperately searched for a way to salvage the conversation. "W-well, not that good, I mean, it's hard to improve on perfection—" Oh god, of all the words in the world he just had to pick those.
Yuri hoped that Otabek wouldn't say anything and would just pretend like nothing had happened. For a few minutes Otabek did stay quiet, and Yuri thought to himself that maybe the universe was on his side for the first time all day—
"I could put them back on."
Against his better judgment, Yuri finally jerked his head up from the pillow to face his friend. He was met with a slight blush on Otabek's face that was steadily growing stronger, and after a few seconds the corner of Otabek's mouth began to tug upwards.
Otabek spoke again. "Besides, I never got the chance to properly welcome you home."
Yuri was thoroughly confused. He had just confessed to his best friend that he thought he was attractive, and Otabek was…happy? Now the universe must be playing some cruel prank on him. He was expecting Otabek to be mad at him. His reaction was too good to be true. But Otabek still sat there with a smile on his face, eagerly awaiting Yuri's response. Yuri had to say something sooner or later.
"And how do you want to welcome me home?"
This must have been the answer Otabek was waiting for since his eyes and smile grew wider and his face drew closer to Yuri's. When their eyes were inches apart and Yuri realized what he was doing, Otabek paused briefly, waiting for permission.
"Well, are you going to welcome me home, or not?" Yuri whispered impatiently, his breath ghosting across Otabek's lips.
The last thing Yuri saw before he closed his eyes was the smile across Otabek's lips. As Otabek closed the distance and their lips finally met, Yuri sighed in relief. It was much better than he ever imagined. He sat up, pressing himself closer to Otabek and wrapping his hands around his neck. Otabek hummed in contentment.
After a minute, they broke apart for air. Otabek leaned his forehead against Yuri's. "Welcome home," he whispered. Yuri smiled back at him.
"It was still a mean trick," Yuri said as he leaned back. He lifted his hand to run his fingers through Otabek's hair.
Otabek chuckled softly. "I suppose it was. Can I make it up to you?"
Now it was Yuri's turn to smirk. "I don't know….You've been a very bad boy." He tugged Otabek toward him. "But you can still have a treat."