A/N: This is less of an epilogue, and more of little snippets. Some are scenes that didn't make it into the first part, others are just little earworms that became words. I could have made each one a chapter for each, but I'm not really one for drabbles, and so I just collected them here.

I hope you enjoy these little extras. They aren't beta'd, sorry!

The Lonely Listen

It should have been obvious that he would ask, and really to Otabek's credit, he waited longer than Yuri would have thought.

"Yuri," he had begun with. Yuri looked up from his work, hands deep in a pot of soil. It was Otabek's off day, so he spent it by his side. Yuri didn't have off days really, he worked whenever. And whenever was at that moment, weeding part of his garden. "I uh-"

"Use your words," Yuri replied easily. He'd come to learn that Otabek wasn't the most articulate man, and the phrase he'd picked up from Maya had become useful. Otabek never got angry about it, instead it seemed to ground him.

"It's a weird question," Otabek finally said. "Are you-" A paused and a deep breathe, almost like he was afraid to ask. Yuri frowned. How ridiculous. "Are you a cat? Or human?"

Yuri blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Really, he should have expected it, but Otabek wasn't the type to pry, which is why he was surprised the man had actually asked. So far, Otabek had just accepted the entire thing without question.

Finally, Yuri sighed, pulling his fingers out of the soil and wiping them on the rag across his lap. "I'm a cat," he said quietly, digging the rag along his joints. Otabek waited for him to continue, and part of Yuri didn't want to.

He didn't want to scare the man off.

"I'm a cat, who became lonely," he elaborated. "Humans wanted nothing to do with me the way I was, and so, I learned to become human."

Otabek nodded, absorbing this information. And Yuri waited, expecting him to turn tail. But Otabek didn't, instead holding out his hand. Yuri leaned over, grabbing it and Otabek laced their fingers together.

"Humans are stupid," Otabek replied. "We don't listen."

"Except for you," Yuri said with a smile. After all, that was how he'd won the game to begin with.

"I only listen to the things that are important to me." And with that, Otabek leaned over, pecking a kiss onto Yuri's temple. He had to lean up, but Yuri helped by meeting him halfway.

The Ironworker

The game had been a stupid bet to get the women away from him, hell to get anyone away from him. No meant no, and it was baffling how humans just didn't accept that as an answer.

And then there was the man, the dark-haired and tanned one. The one who looked like he just didn't fit in, with his stocky build and furrowed brow, already covered in a what smelled like a thin layer of ash.

The Ironworker.

Yuri's nose twitched at the sight of him, let alone the smell. The man paused at the stone ledge, regarding Yuri. It was strange, since he was a cat, and up until that point the entire village had literally ignored this form of his.

Unless it was to bat him away from a building with a broom, since you know, that was cool.

This man would be like the rest of them, then, Yuri could tell. But he didn't try to catch him. He didn't chase after him, he didn't even try to pet him. Which gave Yuri pause. And so, he waited to see what would happen.

"Keep it up," the man would finally say. "The running away thing. He's depending on you."

Yuri blinked and it took a moment to realize what he had meant.

The man had wanted Yuri to remain free.

Well, there was a first for everything, he supposed.

Age is a Number

"You said you'd been waiting for awhile," Otabek asked one night.

They were sitting together on Yuri's porch swing, something that saw little use before Otabek came along. Which by that point had been long enough, Yuri supposed.

Then again, they'd spent nearly a year becoming friends, which in Yuri's mind was a year too long. Humans were annoying creatures sometimes, always puttering around and taking their time. Cats did things with purpose. They didn't beat around the bush; when they wanted something, they took.

Humans were different. Otabek was different. He moved with purpose as well, but in a calculated kind of way, where he took time to make careful decisions. Really, he should have just gone with his gut from the beginning, because it would have meant they'd have made it to the snuggling sooner.

And Yuri liked the snuggling. Otabek was warm like a furnace, and Yuri loved to lean in and just melt against him. Some things never changed, be it cat or human, and he had instincts. At least, that's what he blamed it on.

"Yeah, I was," Yuri finally said, answering Otabek's question. Yuri was too tall to tuck himself underneath Otabek's chin, but he managed to press his nose into the space near his ear. It would do.

"For what exactly?" Yuri paused at the loaded question. He knew that Otabek hadn't really meant it that way. Otabek must have seen the change in his demeanor, because he then said, "Hey, Yura, what is it?"

"It's just- I mean, I know what you meant, but the question weighs a little heavier than I would have thought, I guess."

Otabek hummed at that. "I was curious as to how long you have loved me," he clarified. "Since I was apparently late to the party. Anything else that's your mind- well, you don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable with it."

"That's… that's a relief," he sighed, nuzzling Otabek's neck. "And to answer your question, there wasn't a solid moment. But I mean, I did go eat lunch with your mother. Many times."

Otabek chuckled, his chest rumbling low. He couldn't purr, but it was close, and it made Yuri smile against his skin. "Beka?" Yuri ventured again. Otabek rubbed a hand along his knee in response. "To answer your other question-"

"Yura, I told you that you didn't have too-"

"It's been a long time," was the quiet answer. "Long enough that I don't really remember."

Otabek's hand paused on his thigh, squeezing the muscle gently. "Then it doesn't matter. Age is only a number."

Warmth

Yuri remembered the exact moment, actually. The one where he fell in love with Otabek. It was a little bit embarrassing, so he would settle for Otabek inferring his own thoughts from his answer.

"If you want some of my mother's cooking Yuri, just ask."

Yuri had been about to scoff at such a thought, but then Otabek had held out the oilcloth. Yuri didn't need to ask him. Otabek was constantly feeding sweet little Potya. It didn't change the fact that his mother's cooking was literal magic, and he could smell it from the tiny and neat little package.

"Here, take it. Share it with Potya."

And Yuri had looked at it warily, like it was a trap. For cats, some things were instinctual. Things like being innately distrustful. But Otabek had fed him. Otabek had fed him, not wanting anything in return, and here he was doing the same for him, but as a human.

Warmth spread across his chest, and Yuri's heart fluttered awkwardly as he took the parcel.

He liked that warmth.

He wanted to feel it again.

Trinkets

Otabek was the kind of man who kept minimal possessions, which was why Yuri's house bothered him.

Well, maybe bother was a strong word, but it definitely made him uncomfortable. Yuri was a packrat and the dramatic irony of it wasn't lost on him. It wasn't that he liked shiny things, he just kept the things that looked neat. Or smelled interesting. Or had a cool color.

And Gods above, don't start him on books, because the moment he'd learned how to read, his life had been over.

Otabek stood there awkwardly in the den, holding a book in his hand. "Yuri," he said, "this is written in a language that isn't even spoken anymore."

Yuri leaned over, plucking it from his fingers. "What do you mean not spoken?"

"This is Latin."

"And no one speaks it? How do you think I learned it?"

The look Otabek gave him was something between astonishment and horror. "Yura, how long ago did you learn how to read?"

Yuri thought, really he tried, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Finally, he shrugged and told him to toss it in the far bookshelf with the others. "I just collect things over the years," Yuri finally said. "I know it might be overwhelming for you, Beka, but these things are my life. They show what I've lived."

Otabek didn't answer him after that, but Yuri did notice the slightly warm look on the man's face, as he looked through Yuri's home with a new set of eyes.

Lick

There was a very distinct moment that had happened during their long journal to becoming a pair, that Otabek had never quite forgotten.

When he'd been fixing Yuri's gate after Mila had destroyed it with a sledgehammer. He'd sliced his hand along the metal coupling, hissing at the bite against his skin. And Yuri- who'd been sitting next to him- reaching out for his hand and licking it.

At the moment, it had been a wanted, if odd moment, but in retrospect it made a lot of fucking sense. Yuri licked everything. A weird smell? A quick sniff, and then a lick to taste. Something on his fingers? His tongue would dart out to catch whatever it was.

At that moment, Otabek's gaze flickered over to Yuri, laying across his bed. Leaning against the headboard, a book propped up in his lap, his mouth moving along as he read silently. He got distracted, slicing his hand open on the shears that he held.

He hissed slightly, and Yuri's nose flared, and they met each other's gaze quickly.

"It's just uh-" Otabek stuttered slightly. Maybe it was stupid, trying to cut a length of leather while he was distracted, especially when he never brought his work home. "It's not that bad-"

"Beka," Yuri interrupted, "Come here."

He did, setting aside his leather work. He gave Yuri had hand when prompted, and the other man poked at it, as he surveyed the damage. But only looked, and Otabek's heart lurched, just wanting.

This was becoming more common, he had noticed, the heat. As much as they apparently loved each other, they relationship was fairly innocent, because in the words of Yuri- they had plenty of time.

"I should go home," Yuri said, about to drop his hand.

"Stay," Otabek breathed, before he could stop himself. And Yuri looked at him, and he saw it there, that raw and unbridled affection. "Stay," he repeated, before Yuri could fully pull away.

Yuri blinked slowly, his lips curling into a feral-looking grin, as he pulled Otabek's hand to his lips.

Name

"Where did the name Potya come from?"

Yuri blinked, looking to Otabek, who was busy stuffing his mouth with manti. Courtesy of the man's mother, of course. Yuri had come to expect such questions, but that was a rather silly one, with a fairly boring answer.

"It's what a boy named me once," Yuri replied, picking up his own bite of food.

"A boy?" At that, Otabek properly looked at him.

"I mean, don't children name their pets?"

"You've been a pet?" The incredulous tone was almost laughable.

"Of course I've been a pet. Don't I seem the type to lavish in the attention?" Otabek looked away, considering that for a moment, before popping another bite into his mouth. "Puma Tiger Scorpion," Yuri finished with.

"Eh?"

"Puma Tiger Scorpion," Yuri repeated, this time slower. Really, humans needed to listen better. Yuri had no idea how they got anything done. "Potya is a nickname."

Otabek snickered at that. "That's a hell of a name," he finally said with a chuckle.

"Yeah well, it was one hell of a kid."

"I like the name Yura better," Otabek finally said, leaning back in his chair.

Yuri smiled at him, around a mouthful of food. Yeah, he did too.

Bond

Marriage was one of those human concepts that was lost on Yuri.

For cats, you picked a partner and that was that. Sometimes you stayed with them, but usually you didn't. For Yuri to fall in love, let alone want to stay was a new and exhilarating experience.

When Otabek got down on one knee and proposed, Yuri was confused. Otabek didn't need to ask him, wasn't it obvious? And Yuri had blurted, "Why would I want to do that?" And the look on Otabek's face as it fell… well, Yuri could practically hear his heart crack into two, and shit, he'd fucked this up.

And when he fucked shit up, he did what he did best- he ran away, shifting effortlessly into a car and disappearing into the brush to sort out his thoughts.

Otabek was sitting on his porch later that night, fiddling with something. Yuri slinked up in his cat form, unwilling to bother him but-

"Yura," Otabek said quietly, and Yuri cursed. Of course he'd notice him, Otabek always did.

Yuri shifted easily, feeling his bones pop and creak is his form changed. Otabek watched silently, as Yuri plopped beside him on the porch step with a sigh.

"The last thing I want to do, is make you think that I don't want us," was the first thing that he said.

"Yura, I asked you to marry me," Otabek said flatly. Not angry but just… flat. It wasn't a tone that Yuri liked; it made his insides squirm with discomfort. "You said-"

"I know exactly what I said," Yuri interrupted, holding a hand out. "Please listen."

"Please." Otabek snorted at that. Yuri never requested anything, so he thought it funny.

"I was under the impression that we're already together," Yuri finally said.

Otabek blinked at that. "Well, yes, but I asked-"

"I know what you asked, Beka. I'm confused as to why you asked it."

Otabek looked at him incredulously. "Why would I- Yura, why wouldn't I?"

Yuri sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose to clear his thoughts. "No, no, that's not what I meant. Shit, I'm just really bad at-" He paused, taking a breath. "We already have that, so why would you have to ask?"

"Already…"

"I mean, I thought it was obvious." Otabek still had that blank, uncomprehending look on his face. Time to try another tactic. "Beka," he asked, "What is marriage to you?"

Otabek thought about how to word it. Yuri could see his brain trying to form a way to properly explain it. "It's a pledge," he finally managed. "It's a commitment to stay together."

"And you think that we don't have that?" Yuri asked simply.

"No, we do but-" Then Otabek thought about it. "This must be weird for you," he finally realized.

"I've always been weirded out by people asking me to marry them, Otabek- usually because they were strangers. But coming from you? It made me feel like what we have isn't enough."

"Oh, Yura," Otabek finally breathed, and his entire posture just kind of melted. "That's not what I- I didn't mean-"

"I know that I fucked it up," Yuri cut in. "And I've been figuring out how to fix it."

"You don't have to fix anything," Otabek said, still wringing his hands in his lap. Yuri finally looked at what it was that he held, and he held his hand out for it. Otabek dropped the ring into his hands without much of a thought.

It was a simple thing, really, just a gold band. But Yuri recognized Otabek's work anywhere. "I didn't know you could make jewelry," he finally said, turning it over in his palm.

"I don't, usually," the other man said, nervously rubbing at his neck.

"Do you really think that I don't want this, Beka? That I don't want us?"

"Yura," Otabek started carefully, "I never really know what you want."

Yuri slipped the ring on immediately, showing him, and Otabek let out a laugh. "What?"

"Yura, that's the wrong finger." He reached out, tan fingers brushing along his pale ones, slipping the ring back off gently.

"How is there a wrong finger?"

"You wear it on this one," Otabek said, tapping the proper one. "They say that there's a vein that leads straight to the heart."

"That's sappy, even for you," Yuri muttered. But he waited, and Otabek noticed. "You gonna put it on, or what?" Otabek complied and it fit perfectly. "There. Married."

"Yura that's not-"

"It's good enough for me, not that you even needed to ask."

Otabek looked at him, his eyes crinkling softly with affection. He reached out, grasping his hand, pulling it up to kiss the ring gently. Yuri later demanded that Otabek help him forge a matching ring.

And so he did.

Years

It was astounding, how you can know someone, and still learn something about them.

Otabek was older now. He stiff in his back, crow's feet just starting to sprinkle the skin around his eyes and his hair was starting to silver. And if he'd been good looking before, Yuri thought he was divine like this. It was like he woke up one morning and finally noticed.

"You never really change," Otabek finally said one night, as they settled down. Yuri was sprawled next to him, stretched out and pressing into the other man's warmth. Otabek, always like a fucking furnace. He couldn't get enough.

Before, Yuri had never really thought about it. People around him aged, and he really didn't. And when they were too old, he'd leave and find somewhere new. The village had started asking questions, not ever quite putting two-and-two together, even though he'd practically spelled it out more times than not.

It wasn't his fault that most humans were stupid as fuck.

But Otabek's words settled into the pit of his stomach, oily and distinct. For the first time in his life, he didn't want to leave. He could fathom such a thing.

"It's not a complaint," Otabek continued with, his voice tired from a long day of work. He'd noticed Yuri's silence.

"I've never been scared before," Yuri admitted quietly.

At that, Otabek turned his face towards him. "Scared? Of what?"

"Beka, I'm-" But he couldn't really finish the sentence.

Otabek's hand lifted, pressing against his face, rubbing against the soft skin there. "Hey," he soothed. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know," he replied. And then he moved, sitting up and stretching over Otabek like a tiger stalking its prey. He straddled the man's hips and Otabek's hands found his waist with a familiarity that nearly made Yuri's heart crumble.

"I've loved many people, Beka," he said. "Owners, people who've feed me, people that let me be but- with you it's different. I don't want to lose that."

"Yura, I'm not going anywhere."

Yuri sighed. "Never mind-"

"I don't get it." Yuri met Otabek's pensive gaze. "I will never understand, Yura, I've never been there. But-" He paused to cup his cheek again. "I'm here now, and I will be for a long time."

Yuri smiled at that, reaching up to clasp his hand. He turned to kiss Otabek's palm. "Usually I leave, when people start to notice."

"Then we'll leave-"

"Nah, let them fucking notice. I don't care anymore."

"I love you," Otabek said, and the adoration in his voice made Yuri's heart soar.

He'd lived a long fucking time, but he would never tired of hearing it, hearing that. He would never tire of Otabek. Yuri leaned over and Otabek leaned up to kiss his nose sweetly. Otabek grabbed his hand, the one with his wedding ring and kissed that too. He always did that, a sappy little gesture that Yuri loved more than literally anything.

"Gross," Yuri teased, and Otabek laughed.

Baby

Yuri stared at the basket, not sure what to do.

"Beka?" he called out, his hand gripping the door frame tightly. It was early, and Beka came up behind him half dressed and groggy with sleep. Yuri smiled at his mussed hair, before he remembered- "Hurry," he hissed.

"What is it?"

"There's a- well, just come look."

Yuri moved out of the way, so Otabek could peer around, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the basket. And then he shuffled out of the door, tucking under Yuri's arm, reaching into the basket and-

The bundle let out an angry cry, and Otabek moved to soothe it. "Shh, it's okay," he said quietly, holding the baby against his chest.

"Who would leave it here?"

Otabek paused, peering into the blankets quickly. "Him," Otabek corrected, before arranging them back around the child. "He can't be more than a day old," he murmured quietly.

"Who the hell just-"

"Shh, Yura, he's fussy." Yuri snapped his mouth shut, watching as Otabek whispered quietly and the baby cooed lightly in his arms. Yuri's heart lurched. As men, this was something that they wouldn't ever have, that Yuri had never even entertained.

And it wasn't his first time seeing Otabek with a child. Maya had children and Otabek often doted on the locals but- this was different. There was something intimate and just… he couldn't describe it.

It was a long moment, before Otabek spoke, swaying gently. "We can take him too-"

"No," Yuri said, cutting him off. "Bring him inside."

"Yura…"

"Just… it's fine," he replied lamely. "It's too cold out here for him. Let's warm him up at least."

Otabek hesitated, because he could already tell the that moment he crossed the threshold, that child wasn't ever leaving him. Yuri was the kind of person that just claimed others, and he'd claimed this kid too.

But then Otabek smiled, patting the boy's back and moved to step in. Yuri caught his sleeve, pausing him, leaning over to nuzzle his neck. And then, to get a proper look at the kid. At least he smelled decent. He reached out, patting the downy hair that covered his head.

"I've never really seen a baby," he admitted. Only children and humans.

"He's cute now."

Yuri hummed at that, thinking that he'd be cute always.

He should have listened to his husband.

Child

Otabek had been worried about raising a child, but Yuri had silently claimed the kid for him.

Yuri wasn't someone that he thought would have been good with kids, but he was proven wrong. The best they'd figured, is that a traveler had gone into birth on the road, and left the kid at the nearest house. Otabek wasn't one for fate, but Yuri had apparently taken it as a sign.

"Am I just old, or did our child learn to walk overnight?"

"Alexei is eight," Otabek deadpanned.

"Oh, right." And then Yuri nudged him gently. "Can't complain much anymore, right?"

"He's cute now," Otabek said, words often repeated. "I'm too old for this."

"Yeah, yeah," Yuri said with a wave. "You wouldn't change him."

"You're right."

Yuri was. Otabek wouldn't change anything.

Forever

The porch swing was their favorite place. Otabek leaned against one side, Yuri's feet in his lap. His fingers massaged his arches, knuckles cracking as he did so. Yuri sighed into the touch, his head hanging back and his eyes closed.

It'd been like this for a long time, this domestic bliss.

"Did you think we'd ever get there, Beka?" he asked.

Otabek hummed at that. "You always ask me that, when there's something on your mind."

"No, there's nothing- I'm just thinking of how much I love you."

Otabek cracked a smile at that, his hands pausing in their work. They were older now, Otabek's head more silver than black and a clipped beard covering his face. Yuri knew that it was less about style, and more about laziness.

And Yuri had grown too, cutting his hair short and gaining a wrinkle here and there. He marveled at it, really. His hair still shown like sunlight, but there was an undeniable ache in his bones. That ache though was satisfying and he wasn't afraid anymore.

Alexei was grown and moved out, married and on the other side of the village. So Yuri and Otabek only had themselves.

"Is this what you imagined?" Otabek finally replied.

"Never," Yuri said truthfully.

"Mila is still angry-"

"That old hag can shove it," Yuri snapped and Otabek chuckled, letting go of his foot.

Yuri moved, rearranging himself to slot next to Otabek's side. "Really, it's all her fault. If she hadn't annoyed me so much, I would have never wagered with her."

"With the whole village," Otabek amended.

"Whatever. Point is that she can't complain, but she made this happen."

Otabek hummed, his arm wrapping around Yuri's shoulders. They sat like that, just watching everything for awhile, before Yuri said, "I'm tired."

"I can tell," Otabek replied.

Of course he could., Otabek could tell everything. "It's a good tired," Yuri explained. "It's a satisfying kind of tired. The kind of tired that comes from contentment."

Otabek's face creased with affection and happiness, and he leaned over to kiss him. And yuri kissed him back, sweet and tender, a reminder of their journey there. Cats were solitary creatures, but they had both taken a gamble- and it had paid off.

"You're still perfect," Otabek sighed.

"You're still a sap."

"Always," Otabek replied. Yuri blinked at that, at the change in tone. Otabek's hand found his knee, squeezing gently. "Always."

That's what they had, and always would.

There wasn't a luckier cat in the world.