Chapter Eight
NOTE BEFORE READING: While there's no "on-screen" sex in this chapter, Yuri does end up watching a gay porno at the beginning of the fourth scene. The action is only vaguely described, but if you wish to skip over that part, start reading again at the line, "Hey, Yura, do you –". Also, he and Mila end up a somewhat explicit conversation later on about anal sex during that same scene.
"So, it's a definite 'no' on that house, right?" Yuri asked as they entered their usual café, the bell above the door tinkling to announce their arrival.
As typical, there weren't many patrons, so they had their pick of where to sit. Otabek led them to a table near the front window, he and Mila sliding into one side of the booth while Yuri took the other.
"It wasn't that bad, Yura," Otabek said after Maria took their lunch order.
Across the table, Yuri gave him a flat look. "There was only one bathroom. One bathroom for three adults and one eventual teenage girl," he reminded Otabek. "Do you really want to deal with that, Beka? Really? 'Cause I sure as hell don't."
The three of them had spent the morning going on yet more house tours with their real estate agent, as had become a regular part of their routine over the past few weekends. When Yuri first agreed to move in with Mila and Otabek back in May, he never imagined they would still be house-hunting in August, but it turned out that asking three people with different tastes and needs to all agree on a house to buy was a near Herculean task.
Mila was all about the bling and modern glam, with some bohemian touches. She loved crystal chandeliers, marble countertops, and of course, her signature pink. Otabek, on the other hand, preferred more rustic or industrial finishes – stone wood-burning fireplaces, exposed brick, wide-plank hardwood floors – although rather than the aesthetics, he was more concerned with finding a place with a garage to store his beloved motorcycle and a decent backyard – or at least a nearby park or playground – where their daughter could play. As for Yuri, he dubbed his style "rock-star eclectic". He liked a little of every style, as long as he thought it was "hella cool". A little leopard print didn't hurt either, but mostly he wanted a great chef's kitchen with a large island where he could make pirozhkis and all the other old family recipes he had found when cleaning out his grandpa's apartment.
The location was the most important consideration, however. Their current apartment building was only a ten minute walk – faster when they ran, which they usually did as part of their off-ice training anyway – from the rink. They would have to go outside their neighborhood to find a single-family home, but they ideally didn't want to be further than a fifteen minute drive away. That limitation severely restricted their options.
"I'm with Yura," Mila said. "One bathroom is a definite deal breaker."
"Okay, but we're gonna have to decide on a house eventually," Otabek said. "The baby's going to be here before we know it. I still like the one we saw last weekend, the one in Kalinisky. I know Yura hates the kitchen –"
"The cabinets were pistachio green!" Yuri said, interrupting. "It was like walking onto the set of a bad 1970s American sitcom."
"— but at the price they're asking, we'd have enough money left in the budget to renovate."
"I don't know…" Mila frowned. "Do we really want to deal with the stress of a renovation on top of everything else? I'd really prefer something more move-in ready," she said, pulling out her phone.
"We could live with the pistachio kitchen for a little while, wait for a better time? Right, Yura?"
Yuri sighed. It wasn't only the ugly cabinets he disliked. There wasn't much storage, and usable counter space was almost non-existent. It didn't even have a dishwasher! Still, he had to admit the rest of the house checked off a majority of their lengthy wish list. As long as he would eventually get the kitchen of his dreams – and Otabek promised to do all the dishes in the meantime – he supposed he could suck it up and make due for a year or so. "I guess, if I absolutely had to…"
"Nope, too late." Mila held up her phone. She had pulled up the listing for the house in question, which now said "Sale Pending". "Looks like the owners already accepted another bid."
"Of course they did." Even when they did find a house the three of them miraculously all liked, somebody always seemed to swoop in before they could even put in a bid. "Okay, I think it's time we upped the budget again," Yuri suggested. "I can go up another three-and-a-half million rubles."
"No, you've already contributed more than enough, Yura. We can't ask you to put in even more money."
"You're not asking; I'm offering."
"Still, we wouldn't feel right about it," Otabek said. "There has to be some house out there that's in budget and suits all our needs."
Yeah, maybe in Fantasyland…
"Oh, I like this one," Mila said, swiping at her phone screen.
Otabek stretched his arm behind her, glancing over Mila's shoulder. "Did Vera Ivanovna send you a new listing?"
"Yeah. It's only a three bedroom, and it's a little further from the rink than we ideally wanted, but – Crap!"
"What? Don't tell me somebody's already put a bid on it," Yuri said. This was getting ridiculous!
"No, it's not about the house. Remember that trip to Hawaii Beka and I booked a while back? I just got a reminder from the travel agency." She groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Damn, I can't believe I forgot to cancel. It completely slipped my mind!"
"You can't go?"
"My doctor doesn't want me flying such a long distance at this stage in the pregnancy." Mila sighed, resting her head against Otabek's shoulder. "Oh, I really wanted to go, too…"
"Can we still cancel?" Otabek asked.
"Yes, but we'll lose all the deposits."
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now." He kissed the top of her head. "We'll just have to take the loss."
"I guess…" She sat back up, taking a sip of her tea before perking up again. "Wait a minute. You could go with Yura instead!"
"Me?" Yuri asked.
"Why not? It's better than letting the money go to waste. You don't have any plans, do you?"
"When is it? Next week?" While Yuri went on his annual vacation with his grandfather to the dacha, travel-lovers Mila and Otabek usually took the opportunity to go on a romantic getaway abroad before training for the new season began in earnest. Last year, they went to India. The year before that, New Zealand.
"Yeah, you'd leave on Saturday. It's a five day trip, with about four days extra of travel time."
Yuri frowned, pulling out his phone to check his day planner. Of course he had nothing scheduled aside from an appointment with the therapist he had begun seeing. He'd been thinking about going to the dacha anyway to pack up some of the things his grandpa had left behind, but the thought of visiting the place where they had shared so many memories over the years was still too painful. Maybe a Hawaiian vacation was just what he needed to take his mind off of things.
"I'd have to cancel an appointment with Dr. Makarova, but other than that, I guess I'm free…"
"Great!" Mila said, clapping her hands together. "You don't mind going with Yura, right?" she asked Otabek.
Otabek smiled. "Not at all. It'll be fun. It's been a while since we went on a trip together, just the two of us."
"Then it's settled," Mila said. "I'll contact the travel agency and inform them about the changes. Be right back." She left the table to make the call.
"Speaking of Dr. Makarova," Otabek said, reaching for a couple of packets of sugar to pour in his tea, "how are things going with her? If you've already scheduled a session that far in advance, it must be going well?"
Yuri shrugged, unfolding the cloth napkin wrapped around the silverware. "She's okay, I guess." Better than the first one he had tried, who seemed to think all he needed was a good fucking once he found out about his asexuality and didn't seem to care at all about the actual reason he had sought out therapy. At least Dr. Marakova respected the fact that he was asexual and didn't try to blame it on his crappy childhood or try to "fix" it. "She doesn't totally suck."
"That's almost high praise, coming from you."
True, Yuri had begun feeling somewhat better, more like his usual self, ever since he started attending sessions with her. As much as he hated to admit it, Otabek had been right to suggest he see someone to deal with his shit instead of holding everything inside and ignoring it as he had been doing for almost his entire life.
"Hey, I'm proud of you, you know," Otabek said in a lower voice, reaching across the table to take his hand. His thumb rubbed tiny circles over one of Yuri's knuckles. "I know it wasn't easy for you, to admit that you needed help."
"No, it wasn't," Yuri agreed, "but, um, thanks for not giving up on me once you found out how messed up I am."
"Yura, you're not –"
"I am." He pulled his hand away, setting it in his lap. "But I'm gonna get better," he promised, clenching his hand into a fist underneath the table. "I'm not going to follow in her footsteps. I won't."
He would make damn certain of that.
Mila returned around the same time that Maria delivered their food to their table. She slid back into the booth, her bump almost too big to fit, and snatched a fry from her plate. "Okay, it's all been settled with the agency," she announced once she finished chewing. "You two are going to Hawaii!"
"Tell me, Yura, have you ever told someone you loved them?"
Dr. Svetlana Marakova peered at Yuri over the rims of her red cat-eye glasses. She was an older woman, probably around Lilia's age, but she was still cool, with unnaturally white hair styled in a pixie cut, several tattoos and piercings, and a prediliction for wearing polka-dots. Yuri hadn't known quite what to make of her the first time he stepped inside her office, thinking she didn't look like any shrink he'd ever seen, but perhaps that was what made it easier for him to open up to her.
For the past few weeks, they had been working through his feelings surrounding his abuse at his mother's hand and her subsequent abandonment of him, but thanks to yesterday being what would have been Grandpa's 63rd birthday, today's session had focused more on his grandfather and the overwhelming grief he had felt when he died.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Yuri asked in response to Dr. Marakova's question.
"Earlier, when you were discussing your grandfather, you mentioned your greatest regret was that you didn't get the chance to tell him that you loved him before he died," she said. "It's clear to me that you loved him very much, so why were you so reluctant to tell him? You could have told him at any time. You didn't need to wait for a special occasion."
"I...don't know." Yuri played with the zipper of his hoodie, dragging the pull tag up and down along the teeth, and pointedly did not meet her all-knowing gaze. "I'm just not that kind of person," he mumbled.
"What kind of person?"
"You know..." He rolled his eyes. "The 'mushy, gushy, touchy-feely' type." As if she hadn't already caught onto that fact over the past month or so. He wondered why she had even bothered asking when she already knew the answer, but all his reply received in response was an understanding "I see," before Dr. Marakova moved onto her next question.
"Did your grandfather ever tell you that he loved you?"
Resigned to the current round of questioning, Yuri finally quit playing with his clothes and let out a sigh. "Yeah. When I first moved in with him – you know, after my mother dumped me on his doorstep – he'd say it a lot, to make me feel welcome, I guess, but, um..." He tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "I hadn't seen him since I was, like, a toddler. I didn't really know him that well yet, so it seemed weird to say it back, you know? So, I'd always brush it off, tell him to stop being such a sap, or whatever. I guess after a while, he didn't see a point in saying it anymore and stopped."
"Do you wish he hadn't?"
Yuri shrugged. To be honest, even if his grandfather had continued with the "I love you"s, he doubted he would have ever returned the sentiment. Like he had said, it just wasn't in his nature. It probably would have annoyed him more than anything else, especially during the throes of his teenage "badass punk" phase.
"Mmm." Dr. Marakova scribbled something down on her notepad, then turned her attention back to Yuri. "Returning to my previous question, have you ever told someone you love them?"
"Sure. I tell Potya I love him almost every day."
"And Potya is...?"
Yuri scratched the back of his neck. "My, uh, cat? Short for Puma Tiger Scorpion."
"Cats are very lovable," she agreed with a smile, nodding to the many pictures of her two Siamese cats on the bookcases behind her desk. "But what about humans? Have you ever told a person you loved them? Your mother, perhaps?"
The momentary fondness he felt toward the fellow cat-lover disappeared at the mention of his mother. "What the fuck do you think?" he asked, glaring.
"You didn't always hate her, Yura. It's natural for a very young child to love their parents, and the fact that your mother betrayed that love may be the reason why you find it so difficult to express you love for others in words."
"So what if it did?" Yuri rose back to his feet, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides. "Why does it fucking matter? Grandpa's dead! There's nothing anybody can do to change that. I'll never be able to tell him, so why...why... Fuck!"
Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose in attempt to stave off the sudden tears burning his eyes. This was why he hated therapy. He didn't know what kind of weird magical mind powers Dr. Marakova possessed, but she had the uncanny ability to bring him to tears at least once a session. At least she never made much of a fuss about it, simply holding out the box of tissues she always kept within reach. Yuri yanked a tissue from the box and plopped back down on the leather sofa, sniffling as he blotted away the few tears that had managed to escape despite his best efforts.
Dr. Marakova waited silently until he composed himself before resuming her questioning. "What about your queerplatonic partner, Otabek? Have you told him?"
"Beka knows I love him," Yuri said, still defensive. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, having such a delightful conversation with you." As usual, she didn't take the bait, reacting as if he was merely talking about the weather. It reminded him a bit of Otabek, actually, a thought he brushed aside as soon as it came to mind. "I'm doing this whole therapy thing for them," he said in a softer voice, wringing the tissue in his hands. "For Beka, Mila, and the baby."
"That's very admirable. 'Acts of service' are one of several ways people can show their love, and there's nothing wrong with that. That doesn't mean they wouldn't appreciate you telling them that you love them every once in a while, though. How do you feel when Otabek tells you that he loves you?" She raised an eyebrow at the silence that followed. "Yura?"
Yuri crossed his arms over his chest, a faint heat traveling to his cheeks as he thought back to all the times over the past four years that Otabek had told him that he loved him. "Embarrassed, but...good," he finally admitted. "Happy? Kinda...warm?"
God, that sounded so sappy! He made himself want to gag.
But his answer seemed to satisfy Dr. Marakova, the therapist breaking into another smile. "Wouldn't it be nice if you made him feel the same way? At least every once in a while?"
It wasn't as if he didn't get the point she was trying to make. He knew it would probably mean a lot to Otabek, for him to say the words aloud... "But I don't even know what kind of love I feel for Beka." Yuri sighed. "It's not the same love I have for Mila – I know that – but I don't think it's the same kind of romantic love she has for him, either?"
Dr. Marakova sat back in her chair and pressed her palms together. "Is it necessary for you to identify the type of love you feel before you are willing to verbally express it?" she asked. "Eros, Philia, Ludus, Storge, Philautia, Pragma, and Agape... The ancient Greeks divided the concept of love into many different forms, but at heart, they're still the same thing. They're still love."
"If you say so." The only thing he knew about that kind of stuff was what Viktor had tried to teach him about "agape" during that summer in Hasetsu, and even then, he wasn't sure if he ever fully "got" it, despite the praise he received for his "Agape" short program.
"I do." After glancing down at her silver wristwatch, Dr. Marakova set her pen and notebook aside. "It's almost the end of your hour, so we'll stop there for now," she announced, much to Yuri's relief.
"Great. See ya later."
Yuri tossed his balled-up tissue in the nearby wastebasket, then grabbed his backpack-style skate bag from the spot beside him on the couch, casually slinging it over one shoulder. He had come straight from afternoon practice for his appointment, so there hadn't been time to drop it off at his apartment beforehand. He was about to leave the office when Dr. Marakova stopped him.
"By the way, you're going on a trip with Otabek this week, correct? To Hawaii, I believe you said?"
"Yeah, we leave in a few days. What about it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked back over his shoulder.
"Oh, nothing," she said, taking a seat back at her desk. She wasn't even looking at him, her attention focused on her computer screen as she reached for the mouse. "I just wanted to tell you to have a good time. It sounds like a wonderful vacation."
"Oh."
"And if you need to talk – about anything at all – feel free to text me at any time. I can't promise I'll be awake due to the time difference, but I'll try to respond as soon as possible."
"Yeah... Thanks."
On the walk back home from his appointment with Dr. Marakova, Yuri remembered that he needed to restock the stash of travel toiletries he usually kept on hand for competitions. Though it was a pain to go shopping when he had his skate bag with him, he pulled his hood over his head as a disguise – it wasn't much, but it was better than nothing – and decided to drop by the local drugstore while it was still fresh on his mind.
He grabbed a shopping basket from the stack by the entrance and took out his phone to check the list he had made the night before of everything he needed to buy. I should probably ask if Beka wants anything while I'm here, he thought, texting Otabek.
Yuri: Hey. At the drugstore buying travel crap. U need me to pick anything up for u?
Otabek: Get me a new toothbrush.
Yuri: Any kind?
Otabek: I'm not picky.
Otabek: Oh, and remember to buy some sunscreen.
Sunscreen – he knew there was something he was forgetting! After all, sunscreen wasn't much needed when he did the majority of his traveling during the fall and winter months. Yuri added it to the list, along with the toothbrush.
Yuri: Anything else?
Otabek: Can't think of anything. I'll text you if I do.
OK. See u later, Yuri typed, though he paused before sending it, biting down on his bottom lip as he thought back to his session with Dr. Marakova.
Maybe this was his chance to tell Otabek how he felt – something casual and low-pressure. Otabek and Mila often ended their texts and phone calls with each other with some variation of "I love you", sometimes accompanied by a plethora of "kiss-y face" emojis on Mila's end. Perhaps it wasn't exactly what Dr. Marakova had in mind, but was sending the words in a text really that much different than saying them aloud to Otabek's face? It would still get his point across.
Yuri ducked behind a nearby display of greeting cards, his heartbeat quickening as he stared down at the screen. No reason to be nervous, he reminded himself. It was just three little words, nothing major! He said them all the time to Potya. It should be easy enough to say – no, text! – them to Otabek...
I love you, he typed at the end of the message, immediately making a face and switching "you" for his usual "u". That wasn't much better. Maybe if he used a "heart" emoji instead of the word "love"...
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, deleting the entire message
This whole thing was stupid. If he sent something like that to Otabek out of the blue, he would no doubt suspect he had been abducted and was being held at gunpoint – or else hacked, at the very least! No way would Otabek believe it was actually him saying such things of his own free will, thus defeating the whole purpose.
Besides, Otabek deserved better than to be told in a text. Even he recognized it was a cowardly move.
You still there? Otabek texted back, startling Yuri from his thoughts.
Yuri: Yeah just got distracted. U think of something else u need?
Otabek: No, I'm good. Mila says she wants you to drop by for dinner, though. She made too much for two people.
Yuri: OK. Ill be there. See u later.
Otabek: Bye.
With a sigh of relief, Yuri closed out of his texts and pulled his list back up. He quickly rounded up all the items, double-checking the list before he went up to the register. Shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, hand sanitizer, shower gel, sunscreen…
Oh, right. He also needed to get Otabek a new toothbrush.
Yuri headed down aisle six where the toothbrushes were usually located only to find himself surrounded by pregnancy tests, ovulation kits, and condoms. The store must have done some rearranging since the last time he shopped there. With an exasperated sigh, Yuri started to turn around, but the large display of condoms caught his eye.
He never realized there were so many different kinds. Different brands, different materials, different sizes… Yuri randomly selected a box off the third shelf from the top, his eyebrow arching at the words "cherry-flavored" printed on the front of the box.
"What the hell? What's the point of a flavored con– Oh. "
He set the box back on the shelf. Maybe if he'd had one of those on hand that night in Moscow, he wouldn't have minded sucking Otabek off instead of only reciprocating with a clumsy handjob…
Yuri shook his head. What was he even thinking about?
"Do you need any help, sir?"
He jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of one of the store's employees, a middle-aged woman in glasses. "Are you looking for anything specific?" she asked.
"No, I'm good," he said, grabbing a box that looked similar to the one he sometimes saw Otabek buy and tossing it in the basket, along with a travel-sized bottle of lube. "Thanks."
The woman grinned. "Have fun on your trip, dear."
"Yeah…"
Yuri pivoted around, walking as fast as he could without drawing undue attention to himself until he found the relocated dental care section a couple of aisles down. Sighing, he quickly chose a red toothbrush for Otabek, then headed to the register to check out, unloading the contents of his basket onto the counter.
He paused when he got to the box of condoms and the lube, the last remaining items. He'd grabbed them without thinking, but he had no real use for them. Despite what the middle-aged lady obviously assumed, he and Otabek were not going to have sex on their vacation.
Although, if they were to give it another try...
"Will that be all for you today?" the cashier asked, having rung up the rest of his purchases.
Yuri reached for the final two items, staring down at them. He didn't need them, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least keep some on hand. Just in case.
"These, too," Yuri finally decided, setting the condoms and lube down on the counter.
"People actually enjoy watching this crap?"
The day before he was to leave on his Hawaiian vacation with Otabek, instead of finishing his packing as he planned, Yuri found himself doing something he never imagined himself doing: watching gay porn.
That wasn't his intention when he first pulled out his laptop. He started out looking up "how to" guides for anal sex out of mild curiosity. Of course he knew how heterosexual penis-into-vagina sex worked, and he wasn't totally ignorant of how two men had sex together thanks to Christophe Giacometti having absolutely no filter when it came to discussing his love life, but he had never really thought about it beyond that, having little interest in the subject.
During the course of his research, however, Yuri had accidentally clicked on a link leading to some sketchy porn site. His first instinct had been to close out of it as soon as he realized what he had done, but he had always been more of a visual learner, so he had clicked on one of the available videos at random and started watching.
So far, the two "stars" – a tall dark-haired man and a smaller blond covered in piercings (including one down there which both fascinated and horrified Yuri) and tattoos who were portraying a police officer and a thug, respectively – hadn't done much, just a bunch of making out as they stripped off each other's clothes and recited dialogue so corny that it made Yuri want to gag in disgust. Maybe if they could actually act, it wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't as if he was expecting Oscar-caliber performances in a porno, but it was clear they had been hired more for their looks and willingness to expose everything on camera than any actual acting talent.
No, even if they could act, it would still be dumb. Like he was really supposed to believe that some cop was so overwhelmed with lust by the sight of a shirtless tattooed hoodlum that he offered to let him go free if he let the cop fuck him? Yuri could write a better scenario than that, and he wasn't even that interested in sex!
I do like those sheets, though, Yuri thought, admiring the leopard print as the cop pushed the tattooed guy on the bed and handcuffed his hands behind his back. I wonder where the set designer bou— He shook his head. Wait, focus. You're supposed to be paying attention to the sex, not the bed.
But even when things started heating up between the two actors, it was just so boring. In and out. In and out. In and out. The men sounded like they were having a good time – or at least faking a good time – but the moves were very repetitive and felt like they went on forever, even though it was only supposed to be an eight minute clip.
Did it really take that long to orgasm? What a pain.
"Hey, Yura, do you –"
At the sound of Mila's voice, Yuri slammed the lid of his laptop shut, his heartbeat racing. "Dammit, Mila," he swore, "haven't you ever heard of knocking?"
Mila blinked, closing the door behind her. "But your door was unlocked... Why would I need to knock?" She laughed. "It's not like you were watching porn or anything like that."
"O-Of course not," he lied, setting his laptop on the coffee table and following Mila to the kitchen. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, I got a sudden craving for pickles and peanut butter." She opened his refrigerator and began rummaging through his food. "We're out of pickles, though, and Beka's deejaying at the club tonight, so I thought you might have – Aha!" Locating the unopened jar of pickles at the back of the top shelf, she pulled it out. "Can I?"
Yuri waved his hand. "Sure, knock yourself out. Do you need me to open –"
She had already managed to pop open the lid, setting it down on the counter while she began looking through his cabinets.
"Of course you don't. What are you looking for now?" he asked.
"Your peanut butter."
"I thought you already had peanut butter."
"I do, but since I'm here…"
He rolled his eyes, "You're lucky I have this," Yuri said, pulling out a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet behind him. Peanut butter was hard to come by in Russia, usually only found in international grocery stores, but ever since Mila got pregnant and decided she loved peanut butter on literally everything, Yuri had learned to keep some on hand.
"You're the best, Yura!"
After grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer, Mila sat down at the island and fished a pickle out of the jar. Yuri looked on in horrified fascination as she proceeded to smear a spoonful of peanut butter on the tip and took a loud, crunchy bite.
"I will be so glad when your pregnancy is over and you start eating like a normal human again," he said.
"It's really not that bad. Wanna try?"
She spread another spoonful of peanut butter on the pickle and held it out to him. Yuri scrunched his nose, waving his hands in front of his chest.
"Yeah…no."
"Your loss," Mila said, shrugging her shoulders and taking another bite. "Anyway, what were you doing when I came in?"
"What?" Noticing the stack of dishes in the sink, Yuri decided to start loading his dishwasher. Probably wasn't the best idea to leave them out while he and Otabek were gone on their vacation. "Oh, I was just doing some online shopping," he said in what he hoped was a casual enough voice. "A birthday gift…for Beka." He congratulated himself on coming up with a cover story so quickly.
She cocked her head to the side. "But his birthday isn't until the end of October. That's still a couple of months away."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't hurt to start early."
"I guess not," Mila said. "Have you decided, then?"
"About what?"
"About Beka's present, silly! What are you going to get him?"
"Oh, I haven't found anything yet," he said, scraping some caked-on food off a plate before putting it in the dishwasher.
"Yeah, Beka can be hard to shop for. I don't know what to get him either."
As Yuri continued piling the dirty dishes – when was the last time he had done a load, anyway? – in the dishwasher, he wondered if he should come clean to Mila about what he was thinking about doing with Otabek while they were away. That was probably the ethical thing to do, right? She had been understanding about what happened between them the night of Grandpa's funeral, knowing that neither of them had planned it, but that wouldn't be the case this time... Besides, maybe she could give him some advice.
"Hey, can I ask you a personal question?" he asked after closing the dishwasher door and starting the load.
Mila pulled another pickle out of the jar and began spreading more peanut butter on the end. "Yeah, sure. What's on your mind?"
"Um, it's really personal."
At that, she stopped what she was doing, sticking her spoon back in the peanut butter and giving him her undivided attention. "You sound serious," she said. "Something wrong?"
"No, not really…" Yuri joined her back at the island, leaning forward on his elbows against the granite countertop. "I was just curious. Do you and Beka…" He wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject, so he decided to get straight to the point. "Well, do you ever take it up the ass?"
She blinked. "Oh!"
"Just forget it. Sorry. I knew I shouldn't have asked."
He straightened his posture, preparing to leave the room, but Mila reached for his arm, stopping him.
"Wait, it's fine," she said. "You caught me by surprise, that's all. But, yeah, I do it occasionally." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's not, like, my favorite thing to do in the world, but Beka enjoys it, so I don't mind. I imagine it feels better for a guy, though. Sometimes I'll wear a strap-on and –"
"Okay, way too much information." He should have known talking to Mila about sex was a bad idea…
She laughed, patting the empty stool beside her. "Sorry, sorry. Sit down. Why do you even want to know? You're not usually interested in sex stuff."
Sighing, Yuri plopped down on the stool and buried his head facedown in his folded arms. "I've been thinking I might want to try it," he mumbled. "You know, when we're in Hawaii."
"Really?" The surprise was evident in her voice.
"Don't make a fuss about it. It's not a big deal."
"But it is, isn't it?" she asked in a soft voice. "Especially for you. Are you sure?"
"I don't know," he admitted, turning his head so that he was looking at Mila. "I haven't made up my mind yet."
"What about Beka? Have you talked to him about it? He never mentioned anything to me…"
Yuri abruptly sat back up, eyes wide. "No, and don't you go telling him about this conversation either!" He didn't want to get Otabek's hopes up if he decided not to go through with it after all.
"Okay, okay, this is just between us," Mila promised, holding up her hands. "I won't say a word."
"Good." He exhaled, relieved. "But if we did decide to do it… Would that, you know, be okay with you?"
"Yeah, of course. It's fine."
Yuri frowned, not sure if he believed her. She sounded sincere, but it wouldn't be the first time she pretended to be "fine" with something that actually did bother her. "You aren't just saying that, are you?"
"Really, I'm cool with it," she said, reaching over to wrap an arm around Yuri and resting her head on his shoulder. "This isn't like when Beka and I first started dating. Back then, everything was so new, and his feelings for you made me kind of insecure, but now I know he really loves both of us. I think it would make him really happy."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Mila pressed her lips against his temple in an affectionate kiss and gave him a hug before pulling away and reaching for her forgotten pickle. "So, do you have any questions?" she asked after taking a bite. "I'll try to answer the best I can, although it might be better to ask a guy for advice… Maybe Yuuri or Vitya?"
"No way! Not happening."
He had no desire to talk about his sex life with those two, especially not Viktor. Knowing Viktor, Yuri wouldn't put it past him to fly to St. Petersburg and plan a "Congratulations On Losing Your Virginity" party when they returned from Hawaii. (Although he supposed he already had lost his virginity, technically… Did blowjobs count? He decided they did. Less pressure that way.) Yuuri might be an okay confidant, and he was demisexual, so if anybody might understand his feelings, it was probably him… Still, Yuri didn't want anybody else to know. It wasn't anybody's business what he did behind closed doors except for Otabek and Mila, and he intended to keep it that way.
"Okay. Well, then, the best advice I can give you is just to relax," she said. "You'll probably be nervous the first time, but it shouldn't hurt as long as you don't tense up and Beka goes slow, which, I promise you, he will. Oh, and use a lot of lube. Lots and lots and lots of lube. Like, double – no, triple! – the amount you think you'll need, because, seriously, there's no such thing as too much lu–"
"Okay, okay, I got the message – use a ton of lube! You don't have to keep repeating it." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, though. That was actually helpful, I think," Yuri said, feeling a little better about things after their chat.
Mila laughed. "Hey, don't sound so shocked!"
DISCLAIMER: "Yuri! On Ice" doesn't belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope you liked this chapter! (FYI, the three-and-a-half million rubles that Yuri offers to up their house budget is equal to about $50,000 American dollars.)
Good news, y'all! In a burst of inspiration last month, I not only finished this chapter, but Chapters 9 and 10 as well, with Chapter 11 fairly close to completion. After that, I just need to write Chapter 12, which is currently about a third of the way written and will be the final chapter. What does that mean? It means that I've decided to speed up the posting schedule to once-a-month instead of every two months as I have been doing, so you can expect to see Chapter 9 up at the beginning of September!
Feel free to follow me on Tumblr! My username is kaleidodreams.
