Yuri's mouth fell open as he watched Yuuri's exhibition skate. Otabek, standing quietly next to him as they waited, couldn't help but look at those lips and wonder what they would look like with his dick between them, or if they were gasping his name.

He hadn't ever taken much time to think about his sexuality. In fact, he had never thought much about anything besides skating. When his fellow skaters had talked about being attracted to people, he usually just nodded along without really understanding. But there was something about Yuri that sparked things inside of him that he had never known were there. Ever since they had connected at Yakov's summer training camp, Otabek had found himself being drawn more and more towards the Russian skater. Had found himself imagining things that he had no idea he had wanted.

Yuuri's yell brought Otabek sharply back to reality. "Those damn pigs!"

Looking at the ice, Otabek noticed that Victor had joined Yuuri in the rink. He touched his chin thoughtfully and mused, "I guess our surprises overlapped…"

"Otabek!" His name was whipped out with force, and the Kazakh man answered immediately.

"What?"

"For my final exhibition, you be in it too! We're gonna be even more intense than those two!"

He grabbed Otabek by the collar and leaned in close enough that their breath mingled. Otabek felt a sparkle of electricity run through his abdomen. Unaware of the effect he was having, Yuri continued, "You're gonna watch me lay everyone flat out, right?" A little stunned by their distance, Otabek didn't answer immediately. Yuri prodded, "So? Are you gonna do it? Or are you not gonna do it?"

Yuri needed him. Fighting against the thrill of the sensation and desperately trying to push his complicated feelings to the side, Otabek answered firmly, "We're friends, aren't we? Then there's only one answer."

With a grin that bordered on a smirk, Yuri responded, "That's what I wanted to hear!" Throwing an arm around Otabek's shoulder, he leaned in his head until their temples were pressed together. "So what I was thinking was that we can work you in pretty easily without there being too much change. You know the part around the middle of the program where I throw my glasses into the audience?"

Otabek grunted in affirmation.

"When I do that, you should pull off my gloves. I'll offer my hands one at a time. What do you think?"

Staring straight into the younger skater's gaze, Otabek felt the corner of his mouth quirk up in a rare smile that he couldn't suppress. "Sure."

Straightening up, Yuri grinned and clapped his hands together. "Okay. And don't forget to shoot me at the end."

"Of course."

"Heh. This will show those pigs. Come on, let's go get ready."

The announcer called for Yuri to enter for the last program of the night. He handed a lopsided, confident grin back towards Otabek before skating out onto the rink. The older skater watched him go, and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Yuri's cool composure as the audience went wild over his appearance. Getting into position, Yuri stood and waited for the lights to drop. The stadium settled into expectant quiet until the spotlight came on.

Yuri flicked his head up and back down again, then snapped into motion. Although he had helped choreograph the program, Otabek was still mesmerized by the Russian skater's movements. His normal grace shone through the defiant attitude of the song as his lithe body moved across the ice. When he shed his jacket, Otabek clenched his jaw against the provocativeness of the motion, trying to focus on his role.

Then, suddenly, Yuri was approaching him. Otabek flicked his head up, grateful for the stoic mask that he had perfected. Yuri chucked his sunglasses into the stands, then threw his hand out towards his friend. As he did, their eyes met, and Otabek's stomach fluttered at the hard look in Yuri's eyes. Those soldier's eyes that he had admired so long ago hadn't changed at all and were staring straight at him, inviting him to stand in battle side by side. Firmly, he responded to the call by reaching out his hand and grabbing Yuri's glove. Yuri twisted his arm, effectively removing the glove, then flourished his other arm and offered it to the older skater.

He seemed to have misjudged the distance between them for the second hand, as this time his glove was nearly next to Otabek's face. Without a second thought, the Kazah man leaned his head forward and bit the fabric. Yuri's eyes didn't waver for a second as he withdrew this arm, turning back to the spotlight. Otabek felt a stirring inside himself, and was grateful that the pants he was wearing were heavy enough to hide in. He flicked his head to the side to remove the glove from his mouth, not taking his eyes off Yuri as he did. He couldn't have looked away if he had wanted to. He knew that the glove exchange had been something Yuri had added in last-minute to throw in Yuuri's face. Even knowing that, he couldn't shake the feeling of the intimacy of the moment, the closeness to one person in the middle of an arena full of people. His gaze followed Yuri as he finished out his exhibition. When the skater dipped backwards and revealed his torso under his shirt, Otabek thought his heart was going to stop.

He was so enthralled that he nearly missed his cue at the end. As Yuri went into his final spin combo, Otabek ducked his head down, trying to release himself from his rapture. He waited for the right moment, then raised his finger and thumb, drawing the trigger. Yuri stopped short, then fell down on cue, his body arranged delicately on the ground.

As he watched Yuri's body lying motionless, his heart jarred a little, and he had to remind himself that this was planned, and his friend was fine. In that moment, Otabek realized that what he was feeling wasn't merely a newfound sense of lust.

He was falling in love with Yuri.