Chapter 7: It's My Party, I'll Cry If I Want To
He left early that morning. Yakov and Lilia were still asleep, but he left them his usual note and headed straight for the ballet studio.
These private practices had become a part of his regular routine. He might call them practices, but in reality, they did little more than provide some much-needed distraction. Ever since his return from the Four Continents Championship, he brought himself to the studio whenever his thoughts strayed toward Otabek. And since daily communication with his Kazakh friend had resumed as if it had never suffered an interruption, he found himself thinking about Otabek a lot.
Oddly, his skating had improved. Yakov was pleased, and even told Yuri that he thought the trip to Korea had been a good idea, after all. He teasingly hinted that Yuri had regained his confidence by seeing the other skater's inferior performances. Yuri had to restrain himself from loudly proclaiming Otabek's superiority.
He focused on clearing his thoughts as he did a few warm-up stretches. He had the studio to himself. Plugging his phone into the sound system, he quickly pulled up one of the tracks he'd be skating to at Worlds. It was a ballet number, especially selected by Lilia. He might not be able to glide across the floor the way he could on the ice, but Lilia was a ballerina before she was a figure-skating choreographer, and her routine was just as beautiful on hardwood as on skates.
He remained still during the first few bars of music, allowing himself to enjoy the swell of the strings and the gentle murmur of the drums. He was waiting for inspiration to strike, to feel the music pull him into the routine. It was difficult at first. He wasn't in the right head space for ballet.
His head was still full of Otabek. His thoughts strayed to the waltz they'd shared in Gangneung. He began to dance, moving in time to the music and trying to remember the steps Otabek had taught him. It was enough to get him going, and he fell into the familiar pattern of Lilia's choreography.
He should have been pleased with the height he was getting on his jumps, how lightly he could land on his feet, how gracefully he performed the pirouettes... Instead, he was bored. He'd done these exact moves a hundred times. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel anymore when he heard this music.
Frustrated, Yuri allowed himself to deviate from the routine. He started to form his own dance, making his movements less precise, more sloppy. He leaped into the air with aggression, enjoying the heavy thud his feet made against the hardwood floors. Lilia would condemn his dance as something ugly. The thought made him smile.
The music was drawing to a close. As the rose in a final crescendo, Yuri made his gestures even more wild, finally whipping into a frenzied series of pirouettes before ending the song with a sudden flourish. He'd put more energy into this made-up routine than he'd put in his real performance in weeks, and he was panting from the effort.
The sound of applause broke into his private moment. Yuri flinched in surprise and turned toward the door of the studio. Yuuri Katsuki stood in the doorway, clapping his hands and grinning widely.
Yuri frowned. He'd made a point of avoiding Yuuri Katsuki. Any conversation with the Japanese skater would inevitably involve Otabek, and Yuri had no interest in discussing his feelings with Victor's butt buddy.
"What do you want?" Yuri demanded, hoping the Pig would hear the implied fuck off in his tone.
"That was fantastic, Yuri!" Katsuki said with enthusiasm that completely ignored Yuri's obvious resentment. "That was the music from your free skate, wasn't it? But I've never seen you move like that before... Did you decide to change the routine?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Yuri said scornfully. "Do you really think I'd tell my competition what I had planned for Worlds? I haven't even talked about my routine with Otabek..."
Katsuki's eyes lit up, and Yuri immediately regretted his words. He'd stumbled right into the topic he most hoped to avoid.
"Were you thinking about him just now?" Katsuki asked gleefully, "That makes sense. I usually think about Victor when I'm skating, too. You should think about using your feelings in your routine if you haven't already..."
"Stop," Yuri said, throwing up his hands as if to shield himself from the onslaught of Katsuki's words. "Just stop it!"
Katsuki's eyes widened. "Stop what?"
"Stop comparing me to you! What I have with Otabek isn't like what you have with Victor, OK? So just stop..."
He'd started off feeling angry, but as he spoke, the feeling faded into a lonliness that was becoming depressingly familiar. He'd never spoken aloud his fears concerning the frailty of his relationship with Otabek until now.
Katsuki chose his next words carefully. "Yuri... Can I ask...? Have you told Altin-kun how you feel about him?"
It wasn't worth the effort trying to deny his feelings to Katsuki anymore. He hid his embarrassment with a glare and replied, "Didn't you hear what I just said? It's not like that between us. If I said anything to Otabek... He'd probably hate me. It would all be over."
"You're wrong," said Katsuki with conviction. "He's your friend, isn't he?"
"My best friend," Yuri said aloud. My only friend, he added silently to himself.
"Then if he's really your friend, he won't hate you, no matter what you tell him. It's possible he won't be able to return your feelings, but if he truly cares for you, he'll understand."
Yuri wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps Katsuki was right. And besides, he didn't know if he could keep his feelings a secret forever.
He was staring at his feet. He couldn't see the smile on Katsuki's face, but he could hear it in his voice as the Japanese man continued, "And anyway, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."
Yuri glanced up at Katsuki and saw his suspicion confirmed. Katsuki was offering him a gentle, knowing smile.
"What do you mean?"
"I was at Four Continents, remember? I've seen the way Altin-kun looks at you."
Yuri's curiosity was peaked. "And how does he look at me?"
"The same way you look at him. When you two are together, it's like you're the only two people in the world. The rest of us are just background noise."
Yuri was speechless. What Katsuki just described was exactly the way Yuri felt whenever he saw Victor and Katsuki together.
"Oh!" Katsuki exclaimed suddenly, "I almost forgot!"
Yuri watched in confusion as he ran into the hall only to return a moment later with a gift-wrapped box in his hands.
"You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yeah..." Yuri said, staring in disbelief at the box. It could only be one thing. Katsuki had brought him a birthday gift.
Sure enough, Katsuki held the box toward him with both hands and a big smile. "Open it when you get to Moscow."
Yuri took the box, shaking it slightly to see if he could get a clue as to the contents. Katsuki grinned wider at his efforts.
"It's nothing much," he said, "I just thought it might be useful."
"OK...?" Yuri said, his tone questioning.
"Victor says it's bad luck to wish someone a happy birthday early, so I'll just ask you how it went when you come back!" Katsuki said. He seemed a little too pleased with himself. Yuri didn't like it. He considered ripping the present open at that moment to see what sort of stupid gift Katsuki had thought up. But Katsuki might try to stop him, so he decided against it. The box was shoved into his gym bag, where it would be forgotten until the following day.
He was home sooner than expected. Stepping off the train in Moscow, he began making his way toward the station entrance. He was sure his grandpa would be parked, waiting for him by the side of his old car. But he didn't see his grandpa. Instead, he saw Otabek. He was leaning against the side of his motorcycle, beaming at Yuri.
"Surprise!" he shouted, "Happy Birthday, Yura!"
Yuri hardly knew what to say. A thousand questions rushed through his head, but the first to come out was, "How did you know it was my birthday?"
"The other Yuuri told me."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Why?" Otabek asked, looking crestfallen, "You're not happy to see me?"
"No, I am. I'm very happy to see you," Yuri responded, realizing only after he'd spoken that his words were true. He was so happy he could barely conceal it from Otabek.
"Did you drive all the way here?" he asked as a diversion.
Otabek nodded and stood back from his bike, giving it a fond look. "I thought I could give you a lift from the station. You're going to your grandpa's place, right?"
It was Yuri's turn to nod. The small gesture was all he could manage. He was still trying to process the fact that Otabek was here, in Moscow, wishing Yuri a happy birthday and looking glorious in his leather jacket. Even his helmet hair looked sleek and sexy. Yuri wanted to run his hands through it and pull Otabek's face toward his...
"Yura?"
Yuri hadn't realized that he started to space out until he noticed that Otabek was holding a second helmet out to him. He took it automatically, then realized what Otabek was asking him to do.
Sure, he'd ridden on a bike with Otabek before. But that was Spain, where they spoke for the first time and Yuri only thought of him as a passing acquaintance. No... A perfect stranger. There was no way he'd climb on the back of his bike now! Just the thought of pressing himself against Otabek's back, holding onto his waist as the bike vibrated underneath them...
"I want to ride up front," Yuri blurted.
Otabek looked surprised, then delighted. "You want to learn how to ride?" he asked, "That's great! I'll teach you."
Otabek took Yuri's bag from him, slinging it over his own back. Yuri eased onto the motorcycle, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. He'd hoped this arrangement would be easier for him to manage than the alternative, but he knew he was in trouble when Otabek slipped into the space right behind him. His arms came around Yuri's sides, gripping the handlebars next to Yuri's hands so that they were touching.
"Gas is here. You break with this. I'll be here to guide you, but I'll let you do all the steering, OK?"
"O-OK," Yuri stuttered. He was too aware of Otabek's body against him, and he was suddenly terrified of crashing the bike. Somehow, he managed to steer them in the direction of his grandfather's home, though Otabek needed to intervene on more than one occasion to keep them from toppling right over.
Miraculously, the arrived safely in front of Nikolai Plisetsky's house just as he was stepping out the door, car keys in hand, ready to meet his grandson at the train station. He seemed surprised to see Yuri already there, and even more surprised to see him arrive on the back of a motorcycle with someone he'd never seen before.
"Grandpa!" Yuri exclaimed happily. He didn't have to fake his joy. The only person in the world Yuri cared about more than Otabek was his grandpa, and all the difficulty he'd experienced behind the handlebars of Otabek's bike were forgotten the instant he was reunited with his family member.
He sprang off the back of the bike and ran headlong into his grandfather's embrace. Nikolai seemed just as happy to see him, though he continued to stare at Otabek in bewilderment. Yuri pulled away first, following the path of his grandfather's gaze. The Kazak had hung back respectfully to give Yuri and his grandfather their space, but he offered them both a warm smile.
"Yurotchka, it's good to see you! But who is this...?"
Yuri was eager to have his two favorite people meet for the first time. He waved Otabek toward them and moved quickly through the introductions.
"It's nice to meet you, sir," Otabek said seriously, holding out his hand, "Yuri's told me so much about you."
"Well he hasn't said anything about you," Yuri's grandpa said gruffly. He kept glancing over Otabek's shoulder toward the bike parked on the curb. "But any friend of Yurotchka's..."
Nikolai welcomed them both indoors, where Yuri was immediately greeted by a delicious aroma.
"Pirozhki!" he exclaimed, dashing through the living room toward the kitchen, "Otabek, you have to try one! Grandpa makes the best pirozhki in the world!"
The corners of Nikolai's mouth twitched downward - a tell-tale sign that he was flattered by the compliment. He hid his emotion by stating, "It's why I was late picking you up. I just got them finished. Happy Birthday, Yurotchka."
Yuri split a fresh pirozhki with Otabek, delighted to see that his grandfather had made a few of the Katsudon-inspired pirozhki he'd invented before. He happily explained their significance to Otabek, all the while filling him in on Yuri's impressions of Japan. His grandfather wanted to know more about Yuri's recent trip to Korea, which was a topic both he and Otabek could use to entertain.
Yuri was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it felt to have Otabek in his childhood home. Any misgivings his grandfather may have had in the beginning seemed to evaporate the more the talked with Otabek. The two of them were sharing tips for motorcycle and vehicle maintenance when Yuri suddenly remembered his other birthday gift.
"I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, jumping up from the table. He ran into the living room where Otabek had left his bag and retrieved the gift Katsuki had given him. He carried it back to the kitchen, resuming his seat across from Otabek and Nikolai.
"Katsuki gave me this before I left," Yuri explained as he tore off the wrapping. It hid a shoebox that once held a pair of ice-skates.
"New skates?" guessed Otabek.
Yuri didn't think so. The box seemed old, and wasn't labeled for his size. He tilted the lid back to peer inside, and immediately slammed it shut again. His face was on fire. The box had barely been open a second, but it was long enough for Yuri to see what was inside - a jumbo-sized bottle of lube and a box of condoms.
"Yuri?" Otabek asked, "What is it?"
"It's nothing!" Yuri practically screamed. "It's just his idea of a dumb joke!"
Otabek and Nikolai exchanged a glance. They looked to be on the verge of asking a question about the gift, until Yuri interrupted with a quick change of subject.
"Where's my cat?" he asked.
His grandfather appeared even more confused, though he responded that the had last seen Yuri's cat asleep in his room.
"I'll go get her," Yuri announced, careful not to leave the box unattended. He carried it with him into the living room, where he stopped to stuff the box back into this backpack. He knew his grandfather was too respectful to pry into his things.
"Yuri, I'll come with you," Otabek said, following him from the room.
They marched up the stairs to the second floor together, Yuri taking the lead. Katsuki's gift was still fresh in his mind and he couldn't calm his blush. He just hoped Otabek wouldn't ask anymore about it.
"I knew it!" Otabek suddenly declared as soon as Yuri had pushed open the partially closed door of his bedroom.
"What?" Yuri asked in shock, worried that Otabek had somehow guessed what he was thinking.
Otabek simply pushed past him and walking into his room.
"Leopard. Blanket," he stated plainly, flopping down onto Yuri's mattress. "How did I know you'd have a leopard-print blanket?"
His motion disturbed Yuri's cat, who had been curled up asleep on the pillow. She opened her eyes and stared balefully at the interloper before noticing Yuri standing in the doorway. She meowed once in greeting, the climbed to her paws, stretching luxuriously before padding toward Otabek for inspection. Yuri watched as Otabek grew still, watching her approach him and patiently allowing her to sniff at his hair. He seemed to have passed whatever test the cat was conducting, as she promptly began rubbing herself all over Otabek's face.
Otabek took that as his cue to move again. Laughing, he gathered the cat in his arms and sat up, grinning at Yuri as if he'd just won a prize.
"Your cat is like you, Yura," said Otabek cryptically.
Yuri stared as his cat continued to shamelessly cuddle up in Otabek's arms. "What do you mean by that?"
Otabek rose from the bed so he could ruffly Yuri's hair. "You're both so fluffy!"
Yuri smacked his hand away, though he was careful not to hit too hard. "Ha ha. You're very funny."
He directed his glare at the cat, who had settled comfortably in Otabek's embrace and was now peering at her master with a kind of calm disregard. "Traitor," he said to her, "I haven't seen you in months, and you throw yourself at the first man you see."
"She can't help herself," Otabek said with a shrug. "Cat's just love me."
"Is that so?" Yuri said. He couldn't help but smirk.
"True fact," Otabek said with a solemn nod.
Yuri laughed. "All facts are true, stupid. That's why they're called facts."
"Well that one was especially true. And now I have something for you."
He sat Yuri's cat back onto the bed and reached into his jacket. From a pocket concealed in the inner lining, he drew out a flat parcel, wrapped in tiger-striped wrapping paper.
"What's this?" Yuri asked, though he could guess the answer.
"Your birthday present."
"I thought you were my birthday present," Yuri commented as he absently turned the parcel over in his hands. He had been wondering what it could be, then realized how his comment must have sounded. Otabek was looking at him with raised eyebrows. "I mean you came all this way!" He said quickly, trying to recover before Otabek could get the wrong idea. "Just getting to see you is good enough."
"Well, then consider this a bonus. It really isn't much, but I made it for you."
"You made it?" Yuri asked, finally tearing off the wrapping paper. The flat parcel turned out to be a CD case. Through the transparent cover, Yuri could read the words drawn on the album's surface in Otabek's blocky print.
"Yura On Ice?" Yuri read aloud. "You made me a mix tape?"
"Sort of. It's just one song. But it reminds me of you, so... It's lame, isn't it?"
He could tell that Otabek was feeling self-conscious, and he hadn't forgotten what Otabek told him. Making music was his hobby, and Yuri was flattered that he wanted to include him in that part of his life.
"It isn't lame," Yuri said, all the while knowing that if anyone but Otabek had pulled a similar stunt, he would never stop shaming them. "Let's listen to it now."
Most of his music was either on his phone or his laptop, but he still had an old CD player in his room. Placing the disc carefully inside, he hit the play button and took a seat next to Otabek on his bed. In the few seconds of silence before the start of the track, Yuri saw that Otabek had picked up his cat and was burying his face in her fur.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I don't know... I'm kind of embarrassed," came Otabek's voice, slightly muffled through the fur of the cat. She gave a low meow if indignation and squirmed away. Otabek's face was flushed.
He's cute when he's shy...thought Yuri. Then the first notes of music began.
He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this. Otabek had said the music reminded him of Yuri. Under normal circumstances, Yuri would expect to hear something classical, perhaps a soothing ballad appropriate for a ballet, suggesting grace and beauty and poetry in motion. That, at least, was what he had been skating to for most of his professional career. But from the start he could tell that this was not that kind of song. It was electronic, with a heavy base beat you could feel reverberating through your chest, not because of the speakers, which were small, but because it matched the beat of his heart. The song wasn't fast, but it had an energy all its own that made Yuri want to stand and throw himself into a dance. Not ballet. Ballet wouldn't be able to capture the essence of this song. He didn't know how he would dance to it, but he felt like he wanted to try.
He gasped when he heard the melody, a string of notes weaving into the base beat with their own fluid rhythm.
"This is..." he started to say, but he couldn't finish. He recognized the tune. It was the same song Otabek had been humming when they danced the waltz in Korea. It was altered, and the feel of a waltz nearly gone, but the melody was still there.
Otabek smiled at his reaction. Any trace of embarrassment was gone as he saw how well his gift was appreciated, "I did say that it reminded me of you, right? I guess it's more accurate to say that this is what I hear when I think of you."
"This?" Yuri asked, completely caught off guard, "But this is... Usually my music is more..."
He was struggling to express himself, but Otabek already understood what he was trying to say. He nodded his head knowingly, "But that stuff isn't like you. Not really. It's too pretty. You're not pretty."
He must have seen something sour in Yuri's expression, because he chucked and said, "Come on, you know I think your skating is beautiful. But you could be so much more than that. Remember what I said about the first time I saw you?"
"You said I had the eyes of a solider," Yuri quoted. After all this time talking with Otabek, he still wasn't sure what he'd meant by that comment. It was by far the most cryptic thing he'd ever said, considering he was pretty blunt about everything else.
"I still think that about you," Otabek said as the song belted out its last powerful notes, "And one day everyone else is gonna see it, too. I just have to make sure I get at least one gold medal over you before that happens."
"Never gonna happen," Yuri said, playfully pushing against Otabek's shoulder.
"Why not?" Otabek said, gently pushing him back. "I think I have a good chance. If your hair gets any longer, you'll trip over it and break your leg. Then I'll win by default."
"My hair isn't that long..." Yuri started to argue, but Otabek took away his next words, surprising him by brushing the hair out of his face.
He'd done it once before, and it had sent chills up Yuri's spine. This time felt different. Perhaps it was the intimacy of being in his room, sitting together on the edge of his bed, but Otabek's touch lit a fire inside him. It could have been his imagination, but it seemed to him as if Otabek's fingers lingered just a second longer against Yuri's cheek. Their eyes met, and it almost seemed as if Otabek leaned closer toward him.
He's going to kiss me! Yuri thought, almost panicked. But Otabek pulled away.
"I should go," he said abruptly.
"Wait, what? But you just got here!" Yuri complained.
"I know. But I've got a long drive back. I can't miss too much practice. I've got to win a gold medal at Worlds, after all."
Yuri didn't understand. Otabek was talking just as he always did, but something seemed odd. He was leaving too suddenly. Yuri couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done or said something wrong, but he felt like trying to force Otabek to stay would jeopardize revealing his feelings. Instead, he tried to mirror Otabek's casual conversation with their usual banter.
"As if I'm going to let you take the gold medal from me."
He told himself he was stupid for feeling disappointed. It didn't matter if he was 16 or 61. Otabek was never going to see him as anything but a kid. He felt like an idiot for expecting anything more.
