Yuri Plisetsky is not used to using words to express his emotions-
that's what ice skating is for: to declare what's on your mind
in the most direct way possible
without having to muddle your words with diluted syllables
misunderstood because of the movements of your mouth-
and so, he stays quiet more often than not;
the matters of emotions
do not interest him
because the words to describe his innermost thoughts
escape him, squirm out of his insides like jello
for pride sticks in his throat
loud enough to hide
the fear of failure (he has to win,
above all,
more than life and more than breath
for the cutthroat nature
of competition runs deep within his soul) ,
the fear of not being accepted (who even likes a loser
who doesn't even like himself?),
and worst of all, the fear of disapproval,
(that nagging voice
whispering to you during your happiest moments
reminding you of when you failed so truly so utterly
can't ever be silenced).
So here Yuri sits,
as still and as wooden as can be
overcoming the fierce desire to twitch
with the fire within
legs crossed, tight-lipped,
arms crossed, face contorted
on the bleachers of the skating rink
staring Otabek Atlin in the eyes.
"I can wait all day if you want," he deadpans,
expecting Yuri to open up emotionally
with that cute/annoying curl of his lips
tnto a smile that he dares call dazzling/dumb,
and that calm, collected tone infuriates Yuri
because how dare Otabek enunciate his words
with the tranquil bliss of standing water.
Ever since Yuri and Otabek became friends
(a word that burns
anxious and metallic on
Yuri's lips, burning and painful and right)
Otabek wanted Yuri to become more emotionally open,
and Yuri couldn't find out how to do so…
but Otabek guides him easily,
as if the idea of emotional maturity comes without work.
Otabek rewards Yuri with caresses,
soft and light and warm
across the cheek and on his hips
and on his thighs...oh so badly does Yuri
want to succumb to Otabek,
but pride? Pride says otherwise
(pride says a lot in Yuri's life,
pride never leaves,
always making itself welcome
with a saunter and a scream)
and all Yuri can reply to Otabek is
"How are you so fucking cool!"
That smirk Otabek wears,
seductive velvet and lustrous silk
wrought iron and sunset gold,
grows into a full-blown grin
of the shit-eating kind.
"So your brain worked
your mouth into saying something
your heart wanted" and Otabek
revels in Yuri's blustered, red-faced, protection of his wits
but underneath the swaggering protection of his pride
there is a vulnerable young man
with a heart willing to bloom
"I'll wait for you, Yuratchka."
Otabek kissed Yuri's forehead,
Yuri calms down, leans into the affection
and they both let out hearty laughs
and lead each other to the rink.
