NOTE BEFORE READING: This can be seen as a sequel of sorts to "Welcome To The Family", but no prior knowledge of that fic is needed to enjoy the story!
Also…
Deda is Russian for Grandpa.
Praded is Russian for Great-Grandpa
Papa is...well, Papa!
And Äke is Kazakh for Father.
Never Too Old
"Well, it's been great talking to you, but I should probably let you go," Yuri said as he and his grandpa neared the end of their video chat over Skype. Lev was due to wake up from his afternoon nap at any moment, and he needed to get dinner started before Otabek got back from coaching at the rink. He wanted to try out the new recipe for lemon chicken he had found on Instagram the other day. "We'll see you –"
"W-Wait, before you sign off, there's something important I need to tell you," Grandpa said.
Eyebrows furrowed, Yuri's finger hovered over the touchpad. "Yeah? What's up?" he asked, curious as to why he was only bringing it up now when they had already been talking for almost a full hour. If it was so important, wouldn't Grandpa have mentioned it right away? "Is everything okay?" His heart seized as he was struck by a horrifying possibility. "You're not, like, sick or anything, are you?" Grandpa had mentioned going to his doctor for his yearly physical a couple of weeks ago. Yuri had assumed everything had gone well when he hadn't said anything more about it, but…
On screen, Grandpa shook his head, chuckling. "No, no, nothing like that. Other than wanting me to work on lowering my cholesterol, Dr. Mozalev gave me a clean bill of health."
Yuri slumped back against his leopard-print desk chair, running a hand through his loose hair. "Shit, don't scare me like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry, but I intend to stick around for a while longer yet."
"Glad to hear it, old man," Yuri said with a grin. He sat back up and reached for the bottle of water he had placed out of the way of his laptop, taking a sip. "Then what is it? You sounded kinda serious."
Grandpa inhaled a deep breath. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how to tell you. I know this will probably come as a bit of a shock, but the thing is…" He paused, loudly clearing his throat before starting over again. "The thing is, well, I'm...seeing someone."
Yuri nearly spit out his water, slapping a hand over his mouth just in time to prevent him from spewing all over the computer. "You're what?" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the collar of his T-shirt. "A bit of a shock" was the freaking understatement of the century. "Seeing someone, as in dating? Since when?"
"We, uh, met on that cruise you sent me on for my birthday," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And you're only telling me this now? That cruise was months ago, Deda!"
"I know, I know. I probably should have told you sooner. I honestly didn't expect much to come of it. We both thought of it as just a fling at first since Vasya was living in Yekaterinburg at the time, but –"
"A fling?" Since when did his grandfather have flings? As far as he knew, Grandpa hadn't so much as kissed another woman since Grandma died over two decades ago. Granted, Yuri had no real way of knowing what kind of romantic shenanigans Grandpa had gotten up to once he moved to St. Petersburg to train with Yakov, but… No, he just couldn't picture it!
He didn't want to picture it.
"Ah, is that not what you young people call it nowadays?" Grandpa asked, stroking at his beard. "Should I call it a… What's the word? A hook-up, instead?"
Groaning, Yuri ran his hand over his face. "Please don't. 'Fling' is fine."
"Well, anyway, we both thought of it as a fling at first, but we kept in touch on-line after we returned home, and now that Vasya is moving to Moscow –"
"Wait, you're moving in together?"
"Yurochka, will you let me finish a damn sentence before you start asking questions?" Grandpa asked, his expression between fond and exasperated.
"Oh, right, sorry," Yuri said, properly chastised.
"But, no, we're not moving in together. At least, not yet. It's still too soon in our relationship to take such a big step, but Vasya has become an important part of my life, and I would like to introduce you when you, Beka, and little Lyovushka come visit next week. Would that...Would that be okay with you?"
"I mean...I guess so?" What else was he supposed to say? He and Otabek had already made arrangements to stay at Grandpa's apartment in Moscow rather than a hotel so that he would easily be able to babysit their toddler son while they attended rehearsals for their upcoming ice show. If Grandpa wanted to invite over his new, ugh, girlfriend, there wasn't much he could do about it without looking like the world's biggest asshole.
Grandpa breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Great, we'll see you then," he said, just as Lev's ear-piercing cry cackled over the baby monitor Yuri had set nearby. "Give lots of hugs and kisses to Lyovushka for me, and tell Beka I said 'hello'."
"I will," Yuri promised. "Bye, Deda."
In the kitchen, Yuri had just finished tossing a salad for dinner when the door to their apartment opened and Otabek stepped inside, returning home after a long day at the rink. Lev, abandoning the noisy firetruck he'd been playing with almost non-stop since he woke up from his afternoon nap, toddled over to greet his other father as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him.
"Äke!"
"There's my favorite little boy!" Smiling, Otabek scooped Lev into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Have you been good for Papa?"
"He's been driving me crazy with that daaa...arn firetruck of his," Yuri said grumpily. He chopped up a peeled banana for Lev's dinner with perhaps more force than strictly necessary while Otabek buckled their son into his high chair at the head of the eat-in dining table. "I swear, the next time we see Vitya and Katsudon, I'm gonna –"
"– thank them for giving Lyovushka such a thoughtful gift?" Otabek interrupted before Yuri could finish voicing his...well, less-than-child-friendly threat.
"Yeah, sure. Something like that." Sighing, Yuri set aside his knife, some of his irritation fading away when Otabek came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Hey, welcome home," he said in a softer voice, turning his head to the side so he could give his husband a peck on the lips. "How were things at the rink?"
"Good. Ilya's getting really close to landing that quad axel off the harness. I think it'll be any day now. Oh, and Medina wants you to choreograph her a new short program."
"What happened to keeping her old one for another season?"
"She got bored of it, apparently."
Yuri rolled his eyes. He had a feeling that would happen, but Medina had insisted she still loved her "Sing, Sing, Sing" junior short program and only needed to up the technical content for her debut as a senior next fall. "Fine, if she has some new music already in mind, I suppose I can squeeze in a couple of sessions with her before we head to Moscow," he agreed, transferring the cut banana slices onto a small plastic tray, along with the bowl of oatmeal he had heated up earlier. "Speaking of which, wait until you hear what Deda told me over chat today…"
As they sat down for dinner at the dining table with Lev, Yuri brought Otabek up to speed concerning his grandfather's unexpected announcement.
"So Kolya has a girlfriend? Good for him," Otabek said, taking the news much better than Yuri had, much to his annoyance.
"No, not 'good for him'. Bad! Bad for him!" With a huff, Yuri cracked open the tab on his beer and took a large sip. "He's seventy years old, for crying out loud! What does he need a girlfriend for?"
Otabek arched an eyebrow.
"Ew, no!" Yuri exclaimed, making a face at the wordless insinuation. "Deda doesn't do that!" Well, obviously he must have done it at least once in his life, or else his awful mother – and by extension, himself – wouldn't exist, but certainly not any time this century at least.
"Yura, he's old, not dead. People his age can still have active love lives –"
Yuri quickly covered his ears. "Lalala, I can't hear you!"
"Can't hear! Can't hear!" Lev repeated, copying Yuri.
Gently, Otabek pulled Lev's hands back and handed him the spoon he had dropped. "Come on, finish eating your oatmeal, Lyovushka," he said before turning his attention back to Yuri. "So, you don't think we'll still be, uh…dancing once we reach Kolya's age?"
Yuri rolled his eyes as he took another swig of his beer. "That's different. We're gonna be young and hot forever."
"Oh? Did you discover the Fountain of Youth while I was at work and forget to tell me?"
"Smartaaaa–" Yuri remembered the presence of impressionable ears just in time. "-aleck."
"Why does Kolya having a girlfriend bother you so much?" Otabek asked, cutting a piece off the chicken breast on his plate. "I would think you would be happy for him. After all, it's been well over twenty years since your grandmother died. Don't you think enough time has passed?"
"I don't know." Sighing, Yuri poked at his salad with his fork. Otabek was right – he should be happy for Grandpa. Especially now that they were living in Almaty, it would be good for his grandfather to have someone nearby to depend on in case of emergency and keep him company. Yuri always worried about him living by himself and had even invited him to come live with them when they had decided to move to Kazakhstan and adopt Lev, but Grandpa had outright refused, a stubborn Muscovite through and through. "It's just...weird," he said, his fork clanging on his plate as a sudden thought struck him. "Fuck! What if she's one of those gold diggers?"
"Yura, language," Otabek scolded, but it was already too late.
"Fuck!" Lev shouted, happily throwing one of his banana slices on the floor. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
"Sorry," Yuri said, his voice muffled behind his hand as he struggled to hold back his laughter. Even though they weren't related by blood, and even though he could almost pass as Otabek's biological son if you squinted – rumors that Lev was actually Otabek's love child from a secret affair or the product of surrogacy had run rampant back when they released the first photos of their new little bundle of joy on Instagram – Yuri already had a feeling Lev would take after him in personality when he grew up. He wasn't so sure if that was a good thing or not, remembering his rebellious teenage years…
Across the table, even notoriously blank-faced Otabek was having trouble hiding his amusement. "Lev Yurievich Altin, we do not use that kind of language," he lectured with a wag of his finger, the intended effect somewhat lessened when he turned his head and started snickering into his fist right afterward.
Lev grinned, waving his spoon around as he let out another adorable "Fuck!" and started off another round of uncontrollable laughter. Dammit, the kid was just too cute for his own good when he swore!
"Anyway, do you really think a gold digger would prey on a seventy-year-old retiree living on a pension?" Otabek asked once he managed to stop chuckling at Lev's antics, getting back to the original topic.
His own laughter fading at the reminder of Grandpa's new girlfriend, Yuri shrugged and stabbed at a cherry tomato. "It's...possible. Deda doesn't have any money, but we do. She could be trying to get to us through him."
"I don't know… Sounds kind of far-fetched."
"Well, whatever. I still don't like it." Even if she wasn't a gold digger, who knew how trustworthy she was? Grandpa hadn't been very forthcoming with information about his mysterious new girlfriend, after all. All Yuri knew about her was that she used to live in Yekaterinburg.
Reaching across the table for Yuri's hand, Otabek brushed his thumb over his knuckles. "Hey, just...keep an open mind. You never know – you might actually like her once you meet."
Yuri highly doubted that. She would have to be pretty damn incredible for him to judge her worthy of being his grandfather's significant other. "And if I don't?"
Otabek paused, tilting his head slightly to the side. "At least you live four thousand kilometers away and probably won't have to deal with her too much?"
Yeah, he supposed there was that... "Fine, fine, I'll give her a chance. For Deda's sake," Yuri said with a sigh. "But if I suspect she's up to no good..."
"...then we'll do everything we can to protect Kolya," Otabek assured him as he pushed back his chair and began gathering their plates. "I'll take care of the dishes since you cooked. Why don't you get Lyovushka cleaned up, and after he goes to bed…" he bent down, lowering his voice as he brought his mouth next to Yuri's ear, "...maybe we can do a little dancing of our own."
A pleasant shiver ran up Yuri's spine. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed, tugging on the front of Otabek's sweatshirt and giving him a long, lingering kiss that had Otabek letting out a soft moan as they parted. "A preview for later," Yuri said with a smirk before turning his attention to Lev. "Okay, Lyovushka, bath time!" He lifted Lev out of his high chair and laughed as he used his adorable lion-themed bib – a gift from Mila – to wipe some of the oatmeal off Lev's cheeks. By the looks of things, the majority of his dinner had ended up more on his face, rather than his stomach. "Look at you. You're a mess!"
"Mess!" Lev repeated cheerfully as Yuri carried him down the hall to the bathroom.
Traveling internationally with a cranky 18-month old was not Yuri's idea of a good time. By the time they landed in Moscow, his brain was pounding against his skull, and Otabek didn't look to be fairing much better, dark circles rimming his eyes due to a lack of rest. At least Lev had finally fallen asleep, barely even stirring in Otabek's arms as they gathered their luggage from the carousel, made their way through customs, and picked up the keys to their rental car. He slept through most of the drive to Grandpa's apartment as well, his dark eyes fluttering open just as Otabek turned the car down the familiar street leading to Yuri's childhood home.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Yuri said, smiling as he turned around in his seat to check on Lev in the back. Thanks to the paracetamol he had taken before they left the airport, his headache had faded to a dull throb, putting him in a much better mood. "Are you ready to see Praded?"
Lev rubbed his fist over his left eye. "Praded? Video?"
"No, no, not on video. In person. Look, he lives right there in that –" Yuri blinked at the building near the end of the road. What had once been a run-down four-story red brick structure was now painted stark white, the windows outfitted with brand new black shutters. "What the…?"
Had Otabek taken a wrong turn and gone down the wrong street? But the surrounding buildings still looked mostly the same aside from a new gas station...
"Seems they've done some updating since the last time we visited," Otabek said, pulling the car into the building's parking lot. "Looks nice."
"Yeah…" Another thing Deda failed to tell me about, Yuri thought, suppressing a frown.
The inside had also gone through some updates. The building still didn't have an elevator, but the staircase had been redone, the ugly green carpet replaced with (most likely engineered) hardwood and the walls painted a trendy pale gray. As they made their way up to the third floor, Yuri recalled Grandpa mentioning that his old landlord had retired and sold the building a few months ago. The renovations must have been the work of the new owners.
"Shit, I hope the rent hasn't gone up," Yuri muttered to himself, setting down their luggage to knock on the door. Part of the reason why Grandpa had stayed in the same apartment for so many years despite Yuri's multiple offers to find him a better place was the fact that his old landlord hadn't raised prices since the turn of the millennium, a veritable steal of a deal.
"Kolya hasn't mentioned anything about it?" Otabek asked, smoothing down Lev's wind-swept hair.
"No, but considering the other secrets he's been keeping lately, I –"
The door swung open, cutting him off. "Yurochka!" Grandpa immediately pulled him into a hug. "So good to see you."
"You, too, Deda," Yuri said, tightening his embrace.
"I've missed you so much, my boy…" He affectionately kissed Yuri's temple before pulling away and turning his attention to Otabek and Lev. "You, too, Beka. Welcome!" Since Otabek had his arms full with Lev, a leopard-print diaper bag slung over his other shoulder, Grandpa settled for a one-armed hug, patting Otabek on the back. "And, oh my, is this little Lyovushka?"
Lev bashfully buried his face in the fabric of Otabek's cardigan. Though they saw each other frequently on video chat, this was the first time since their visit to Moscow to introduce Lev to Grandpa right after his adoption that they were seeing each other in person. Lev tended to be a bit shy at first around people he didn't know well, but Yuri had no doubt he and Grandpa would be as thick as thieves after a day or two.
"I can't believe he's so big already," Grandpa said, taking no offense. "It seems like only yesterday you brought him home."
"Yeah, the time has been flying by." Otabek shifted Lev on his hip. "By the way, thanks for letting us stay with you and agreeing to watch Lyovushka while we're at rehearsals. We really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it. I'm happy to help, especially if it means spending time with my favorite great-grandson." He tenderly stroked the back of Lev's dark curls. "Anyway, come in, come in! I'll make some tea."
"And piroshki?" Yuri asked, hopeful.
Grandpa laughed heartily, slapping Yuri on the shoulder. "Some things never change… Who do you think I am? Of course I have piroshki!"
They followed Grandpa inside the apartment, Yuri bringing up the rear with most of their bags. Jeez, nobody had thought to warn him just how much crap babies needed when they decided to adopt. He and Otabek used to have the whole "packing light" thing down pat after years of traveling for competitions, but that all went out the window once Lev came into their lives.
The moment Yuri stepped over the threshold, his eyes roamed around the small apartment. Unlike the rest of the building, the apartment itself looked much the same as always, a time capsule of outdated furniture from mostly the 80s and 90s, though still in relatively good shape considering. Grandpa didn't believe in throwing anything away unless it was broken beyond repair, so he took great pride in caring for his possessions.
The infamous new girlfriend was nowhere in sight. Yuri couldn't help but sigh in relief, not sure if he was ready to meet her just yet.
"Vasya will be by later," Grandpa announced, seemingly reading Yuri's mind. "I thought we could catch up a little first." He waved his hand toward the floral-print upholstered couch in the center of the living room. "Make yourselves at home. The tea should be ready in a few minutes," he said, heading toward the kitchen.
While Otabek settled on the couch with Lev, Yuri carried their bags down the hall to his former bedroom where they would be staying. Though the apartment looked much the same since the last time they visited, one notable change was the large collage of framed black-and-white photographs hanging on the wall next to his old bedroom door. Yuri couldn't help but smile at the candid pictures of himself and Lev, most of which had been shot by Otabek. Ironically, the man who hated being photographed with a passion turned out to have quite an eye when he was the one behind the camera, even if Otabek modestly insisted it was only because Yuri and Lev were such great models.
Frowning, Yuri wondered if there were any photos of the mysterious Vasya on display in similar fashion. He searched around after putting their things away in the bedroom, but as far as he could tell, there were none to be found. Dammit, he should have asked for Vasya's full name when Grandpa first mentioned they were dating! He could have at least checked out her social media accounts before they came, made sure there weren't any red flags to be aware of.
By the time he made a pit stop at the bathroom and returned back to the living area, Grandpa had brought a tray of tea and piroshki over to the coffee table, along with a small bowl of dry cereal for Lev to snack on. Yuri sat down on the couch beside Otabek and grabbed one of the piroshki, moaning as soon as he took the first bite.
"Still the best, Deda!" he said, his mouth full of savory deliciousness.
Grandpa grinned. "Damn right!" He scooped some raspberry jam into his mug, stirring it into his tea. "By the way, how do you like the new look of the place?" he asked, taking a sip. "They did it while I was away on my cruise. Didn't even know about it until I came home! I can't say I'm really a fan of the lack of character, but at least they finally fixed that god-awful staircase. That thing was an eyesore!"
Yuri couldn't disagree with that. "Yeah, it looks a lot better now," he said, reaching for his favorite mug, the one with funny cat faces covering it, although most had faded away with age. "Such a big renovation must have cost the new owners quite a bit of money, though. Have they gone up on your rent?"
"Eh, a little."
Just as Yuri feared… "How little?"
"So little that I can still afford it without needing to rely on my grandson for money," Grandpa said before Yuri could even offer.
"But, Deda –"
"No. I told you on your wedding day that I would no longer accept your money, Yurochka. You have a husband and son to support now."
"We're more than comfortable financially, Kolya," Otabek assured him, setting his blue-and-yellow mug back down on the tray and reaching for a piroshki. As usual, Grandpa had made them with chicken instead of pork since Otabek abstained. "Yura and I wouldn't mind at all pitching in if money is tight. It's not a problem."
"Or you could always just move to Almaty with us like we offered," Yuri countered. "Then you wouldn't have to pay rent at all!"
"Yurochka…"
Yuri sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. This is your home, and you don't want to leave." He'd heard it all before. "God, you're so stubborn!"
"A Plisetsky family trait, I'm afraid," Grandpa joked. "Seriously, though, as much as I appreciate the concern, you two don't need to worry about me. I'm doing just fine."
"If you say so…"
"I do, so let's put the topic to rest and move on to a more pleasant subject, like this little cutie-patootie." Grandpa reached over and tickled one of Lev's bare feet, getting a giggle out of him. "I want to hear everything that's happened since the last time we chatted. Don't leave anything out!"
They spent the next couple of hours catching up, Yuri and Otabek regaling Grandpa with hilarious stories about parenthood while Grandpa chatted about the neighborhood book club he had recently joined and the new knitting hobby he had picked up on a lark. Yuri had to admit, Grandpa seemed...happier than he had been in a long time, a twinkle in his eye that was hard to ignore. Some of it, Yuri knew, was due to their visit and getting to spend time with his great-grandson, who was quickly warming up to him, but no doubt the majority of his joy could be credited to his new love...
"Oh, let me show you the project I'm currently working on," Grandpa said, reaching for the basket beside his armchair. "It's a pair of socks for Lyovushka. I found this pattern –"
A knock on the door interrupted him mid-sentence.
"That's… That should be Vasya." Grandpa set the basket aside and rubbed his hands against his thighs before rising to his feet. "Just a moment."
As he walked over to answer the door, Otabek leaned toward Yuri and murmured, "Remember, be nice and give her a chance."
"I know, I know!" Yuri hissed, shifting a gurgling Lev to sit on his other leg.
Due to the angle of the opened door from the couch, Yuri couldn't see much of anything, but he was able to hear Grandpa and someone he could only assume was Vasya talking in low voices. Vasya spoke with an unexpectedly deep alto voice, almost bordering on husky. A smoker? Yuri hoped not. Grandpa had been a heavy smoker back in the day, and the last thing he needed was to pick up the habit again after working so hard to quit.
They continued talking for a minute of two before Grandpa stepped back and turned his attention once again to Yuri and Otabek. "Yurochka, Beka, Lyovushka… I'd like you to meet my partner, Vasya," he said as a tall, bespectacled man entered behind him, holding his fedora to his chest as he bowed his head in greeting.
"Vasily Konstantinovich Malikov."
Dammit, Otabek was right. Against all odds, Yuri actually liked Vasya – Vasily.
It was hard not to. A charismatic retired history teacher, Vasily now spent his days creating cooking videos on YouTube, of all things. He enjoyed finding old, traditional recipes from around the world and cooking them as authentically as possible while educating his viewers about the culture and history behind the dishes, combining his two passions. He and Grandpa had even teamed up on a couple of recent videos, although Vasily had yet to upload them to his channel, respectful of Grandpa's wishes to wait until after their visit to post them. He did allow Yuri and Otabek to have a sneak peak of one of the videos on his phone, though, the two of them showing an easy chemistry as they cooked pelmeni together.
"Bet you never imagined your grandpa becoming a YouTuber in his old age, huh?" Grandpa joked after they finished watching the video.
"You were a natural, Kolya," Vasily said, kissing the back of Grandpa's hand. The two of them were sitting together on the loveseat, Grandpa's other arm thrown around Vasily's shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "My fans are going to love you – all twenty-five of them."
"Bah, don't be so modest! He just hit ten thousand subscribers last month."
Vasily rubbed the back of his neck. "Ten thousand subscribers is a drop in the bucket compared to some of the bigger channels, but I do alright for myself, I suppose. Of course, that must seem like nothing to your famous grandson and grandson-in-law. I still can't believe I'm talking with two Olympic gold medalists! When I found out Kolya's Yurochka was actually the Yuri Nikolayevich Plisetsky, I watched every video of you two I could find on YouTube. I have to admit, I never was much of a skating aficionado, but, wow, I'm officially a fan now."
"We'll have to get you a ticket for our Moscow show," Yuri promised. He had already reserved front-row seats for Grandpa and Lev, but it wouldn't be too difficult for the stars of the production to scrounge up another ticket. "If you liked us on video, you'll love seeing us live."
Not to mention, Vasily was also a cat person, with two adorable gray tabbies named Dmitri and Svetlana who he doted on as if they were his own children. That automatically earned him brownie points in Yuri's book, although his heart ached a little as he and Otabek scrolled through all the cat pictures on Vasily's phone. His own beloved cat Potya had passed away of old age about six months before they adopted Lev. They kept meaning to adopt a new one, but between taking care of Lev, traveling around the world to skate in ice shows, and their coaching and choreographing duties back at home, there just hadn't been time.
"Hey, let's visit some shelters when we get back to Almaty," Otabek murmured softly to Yuri, reading his mind. "It's been long enough."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
About the only fault Yuri found with Vasily was his annoying tendency to call him "Yurochka". Grandpa was the only person allowed to call him Yurochka; not even Otabek dared to use the childish diminutive. (The one and only time he tried, Yuri had banished him to the couch for the night.) But, unlike some people he could name – Victor and Katsudon still persisted in calling him Yurio, even ten years later – at least Vasily made an effort in correcting himself once Yuri made his displeasure at the nickname known.
"Hey, could you cool it with the 'Yurochka'?" Yuri asked after the third or fourth time. "Deda is the only one who can call me that."
"Oh, sorry, I've heard Kolya call you Yurochka so much, I must have subconsciously picked up the habit," Vasily apologized. "He literally never stops talking about you, though. I've never met a more proud deda."
"Stop, you're making me blush, Vasya," Grandpa said, playfully slapping Vasily's arm. "I'm not that bad. Your obsession with those cats of yours is far worse. I swear, it's always 'Dima this' or 'Sveta that'."
"Obsession?" Vasily scoffed, dramatically bringing a hand to his chest. "Well, I never!"
Yuri covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. Beside him, he could see Otabek hiding a smile behind his mug. They really did seem to get along well. Whatever concerns Yuri might have had about his grandfather being taken advantage of faded away the more he got to know Vasily, despite his initial shock over his gender.
"Well, it's been great to finally meet you all, but I should probably head out," Vasily said around four, slapping his hands on his thighs.
"So soon?" Grandpa asked.
"Dima and Sveta are waiting for me. You know how they get when I don't feed them their meals on time." He affectionately rolled his eyes as he stood and put his hat back on. "Besides, I have my weekly live stream to prepare for tonight."
"Oh, right, right. I nearly forgot about that. I'll see you out then."
"It was really nice meeting you, too," Otabek said, politely extending his free hand to Vasily for a handshake as everyone else stood to say their goodbyes. "We'll make sure to get you one of those tickets."
"Oh, don't go through too much trouble on my account," Vasily said. "I don't want to put anybody out."
"It's no problem at all, really," Yuri assured him. "We're happy to do it."
"Thank you. I appreciate it, Yuratch– I mean, Yura." Vasily smiled, reaching for Yuri's hand and pulling him close. "Look, I know I might not have been who you were expecting to meet today, but I want you to know, I do care about your grandfather very much," he said in a much softer voice, his words meant only for Yuri to hear. "Please, don't judge Kolya too harshly. He….just didn't know how to tell you."
"Oh, um, yeah. I get it," he said, although he really didn't. As a gay man himself, it wasn't as if Yuri would be upset that Grandpa's new partner was a guy. Then again, considering his reaction to the news Grandpa was dating anyone at all… Well, maybe it wasn't so surprising that he had been less than forthcoming. "Don't worry. We're good."
"Good." Nodding in satisfaction, Vasily finally let go of his grip on Yuri's hand and waved goodbye to Lev. "Bye-bye, Lyovushka! Hope to see you again soon."
"Bye-bye!" Lev said, returning the wave from Otabek's arms.
As Grandpa walked Vasily to the door, Yuri and Otabek sat back down on the couch. "Well, Vasya Konstantinovich was certainly...a surprise," Otabek said softly, bouncing Lev on his knee. "You really had no idea…?"
Yuri shook his head. "None at all! I one-hundred percent thought Grandpa was dating a woman, I swear. I'm just as shocked as you are." Probably even more so.
"He seems like a good guy, though, and Kolya has never looked happier in all the years I've known him."
"Yeah… I just wish – "
"So, any requests for dinner?" Grandpa asked, rejoining them in the living area. "I was thinking of making some beef stroganoff, but if you're in the mood for something else, we can –"
"Deda." Yuri shot him a pointed look.
Grandpa pursed his lips. "...Right."
"I'll put Lyovushka down for his nap," Otabek said, sensing their need for some privacy. "It's been a long day."
As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, Yuri turned his attention back to his grandfather and asked the question that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue from the moment Vasily had been introduced. "Vasya is a...guy?"
"Yes?"
Even hours later, Yuri was having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that his grandfather was dating a man. Grandpa liked women; he'd been happily married to one for nearly twenty-three years. Yuri never even suspected… "I thought her name was Vasilisa," he said, rubbing at his forehead. "I just assumed… You never mentioned…"
"Forgive me." Grandpa moved to join Yuri on the couch, placing his hand on Yuri's back. "I should have told you from the start, when I first mentioned Vasya. I…"
"Why didn't you? Why did you feel the need to hide his gender? Yeah, I would have been surprised at first, but I wouldn't have cared that you were dating a guy."
"I...don't know," Grandpa said. His shoulders slumped as he slid his hand away from Yuri's back. "I just don't know."
"So...you're gay now?" Yuri asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
He shook his head. "Bisexual, like your Beka. I always have been, for as long as I can remember."
"And you never told me? Even when I told you I liked boys?"
"I never told anyone except for your grandmother," Grandpa said, a fond smile on his face. "Zhenya gave off the impression of being rather conservative, but she could be quite modern in her thinking at times."
Yuri didn't remember much about his grandmother. She had died when he was around four or five, too young for him to recall many memories with her, although one detail that always stuck out to him was the heavy gold cross she often wore around her neck.
"And she was okay with it?"
"Yeah, she was. I still remember what she said the night I told her: 'Kolya, I don't give a damn who you're attracted to, as long as it's our bed you sleep in at night.'" He let out a hearty laugh at the memory. "But...other people were not as accepting as they are nowadays," he continued as his laughter faded away, his eyes losing some of their light. "If I had publicly 'come out' back then…" He sighed. "Well, it was easier to stay in the closet, as the saying goes. Besides, once I fell in love with Zhenya, there was no one else for me. Even after she passed away, I never imagined I would fall in love again…"
"...until you met Vasya Konstantinovich?"
"Yeah. The moment I laid eyes on Vasya on the deck of that ship, I knew he was someone special," Grandpa said, smiling once again. "He reawakened a part of me I thought I had buried with your grandmother. It was like I was a randy young man again, strong and virile –"
Yuri held up a hand. "Please, spare me the details." As it was, he already knew much more about his grandfather's sex life than he ever wanted to. "All I really want to know is...are you happy?"
"The happiest I've been in years," Grandpa said without even a hint of hesitation.
"Then...I'm happy for you, too," Yuri said honestly. "Vasya seems like a great guy."
"He is. He's the best."
"Just...get him to stop with the Yurochka business, okay? I know he's trying, but, seriously, I'm begging you, you have to get him to stop."
Grandpa let out a boisterous laugh, slapping Yuri on the back. "Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do."
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for Day Six of Otayuri Week, Themes: Family and Miscommunication. I hope you enjoyed the story!
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