Chapter 11
When Yuri and Otabek arrived back in St. Petersburg after another two long – but significantly more comfortable, thanks to Yuri's first class upgrade – days of travel, they were greeted by both Mila and Sara, who had come for a visit while they were vacationing in Hawaii. Hugs and souvenirs were exchanged, but Sara couldn't stick around for long, booked for her own flight back to Naples. With the promise that she would come back for another visit with Emil after the baby was born, Sara said her goodbyes, hugging Mila tightly before rubbing a hand over Mila's rounded belly.
"Addio, piccolina," Sara said affectionately. "I can't wait to meet you."
Once she left, Mila led Yuri and Otabek out to the parking lot. She had driven Yuri's Mercedes to pick them up, but when Yuri asked her to return his keys, she refused.
"You two have been flying for, what, a million hours? I'm sure you're exhausted. Let me do the driving," she offered.
For once, Yuri didn't argue, groggily climbing in the backseat after throwing his luggage in the trunk. His eyes were closed before Mila had even pulled out of the parking lot, his head slumped against the window.
Yuri wasn't sure how long he napped, but when the car rolled to a stop some time later and he opened his eyes, they were not in his usual parking space in their apartment building's garage as expected, but parked on the side of the street in front of a row of townhouses. "Uh... Where are we?" he asked, rubbing the remnants of sleep out of his eyes as he sat back up.
"Our new house!" Mila said brightly, twisting around in the driver's seat to look back at him. "Well, hopefully, at least. Me and Sara already did a walk-through with Vera Ivanovna while you were gone, and I think it's a really strong contender. It could be the one!"
Otabek unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the passenger-side door. "Well, I do like the curb appeal. How far are we from the rink?" he asked as Yuri and Mila climbed out of the car with him, Yuri fighting back another yawn.
"It's about a twenty minute commute, which I know is a little further than we wanted, but five more minutes isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things, right? And, though it only has three bedrooms instead of the four we were looking for, it does have a finished basement that I was thinking we could maybe convert into a studio apartment or at least a second master suite for Yura once things are a little more settled."
Yuri perked up at little at that tidbit of information. He did like the idea of having his own apartment to escape to while still technically living with them. "It's in budget?" he asked as Mila led them up to the front door, where their real estate agent, Vera, was already waiting for them.
"Just barely! Vera Ivanovna says we'll probably want to go in strong with a full-price offer, but the good thing is that the house hasn't officially gone on the market yet. If we put in a bid by the end of the day and the seller accepts, we won't have to worry about anybody outbiding us."
It sounded almost too good to be true. There had to be some kind of catch. It looked nice enough from the outside, but Yuri wouldn't be surprised if it was haunted or in need of a whole bunch of repairs. No matter how excited Mila was about it, he wasn't going to get his hopes up.
After exchanging greetings with Vera, the real estate agent pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked the door, showing them inside.
Oh.
Yuri's eyes widened as he took in the entire open concept first floor. It was beautiful. Somehow, it managed to combine Mila's love of glitz and glam with Otabek's preferred rustic industrial style, giving it that elusive "rock-star eclectic" vibe Yuri had been looking for.
Vera cleared her throat. "I don't know how much Ludmila Danilov–" Mila gave her a look at the use of her formal name. "Forgive me, Mila has told you about the place," Vera corrected, "but this house has three bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths. There are three floors, in addition to a finished basement, and there's a two-car garage out back. The backyard isn't the largest, but it's a decent size for a townhouse, and you'll find a lovely little playground..."
Vera's voice droned on, Yuri only half-listening as he walked further inside and began taking a closer look at everything. The family room was located near the front of the house, anchored by a gorgeous white stone fireplace with a chunky wooden mantle. Built-ins flanked both sides of it, and beautiful wide-plank hardwood floors flowed throughout the entire first floor.
In the middle was the dining area. A glamorous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the table they had staged with was big enough to fit eight people comfortably, a definite plus for when Otabek's large family flew over for a visit – something Yuri suspected they would do much more often once the baby arrived.
A small powder room was tucked underneath the staircase. Yuri glanced inside and was relieved to see it was much more tastefully decorated than the monstrosity he and Otabek had seen in the first house they toured. Yuri might have gone with a bold wallpaper instead of the safe greige paint color that had been chosen, but that was his only real complaint – an easy enough fix if they did end up buying the place. Maybe he could even talk Mila and Otabek into letting him put up a tiger-print wallpaper. That would be cool.
But the kitchen... The kitchen!
It was perhaps not as big as some of the other kitchens they had seen during their search, but there was still plenty of storage and counter space. According to Vera, the countertops were quartz that was made to resemble marble, and the stainless steel appliances all looked high-end and rarely used. Yuri also liked that it wasn't the typical all-white kitchen that was so popular nowadays. The counters were painted a soft dove gray, and the cool herringbone-style backsplash shone in metallic colors that pulled in the brass of the fixtures and the two pendant lights that hung over a massive island with enough bar seating for four.
Running a hand over the island's countertop, Yuri blinked back unexpected tears. He wished his grandfather was still alive to see this place. The two of them would have had so much fun rolling out the dough for piroshkis on such a big surface, Grandpa singing one of those silly old folk songs Yuri used to hate so much but now would give anything to hear him belt out just one more time...
"Hey, you okay?" Otabek asked softly, placing his hand on the small of Yuri's back as he came up behind him.
Yuri swiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," he said. "It's nothing. Anyway, what do you think?" He turned around, looking back at the front of the house where Mila and Vera were chatting about baby stuff. "This place really does seem to tick a lot of the boxes..."
"Yeah, it does," Otabek agreed. "If the bedrooms and bathrooms are even half as nice as this, I could really see us living here."
Yuri nodded his chin toward the staircase. "Wanna check them out?"
"Yeah."
They snuck upstairs and took a look around at the remaining rooms. All the bedrooms were a great size with big closets, and the two full bathrooms were just as beautifully decorated as the kitchen. Even the second-floor laundry room looked like it had been cut out of the pages of a magazine. Yuri was sold. He didn't even need to see the basement. Since they were already planning to renovate it, it didn't matter what it looked like anyway.
"So?" Mila asked the moment they rejoined her and Vera in the living room. "Do you like it? Should we put in an offer?"
"I don't know..."
Unable to resist the chance to tease her for a change, Yuri and Otabek pretended to hem and haw over the decision for a little while longer, pointing out the lack of the fourth bedroom and the longer commute that she had already told them about, before exchanging grins and giving Mila the "thumbs up" in unison.
They had finally found their dream home.
The seller accepted their generous offer almost immediately, which was a good thing since not only was Mila entering her third and final trimester, Yuri and Otabek were back to training full-time, preparing for their upcoming Grand Prix events. The next month passed in a blur as they packed up their respective apartments, practiced their programs until every movement was burned into muscle memory, and got fitted for new costumes, including the ones Mila had designed for Yuri's "Ave Maria" exhibition and Otabek's short program. Yuri kept up with his weekly appointments with Dr. Marakova as well, continuing to work through his various issues. By late September, all the necessary paperwork and checks had been signed, and the house was officially theirs.
"For the last time, we are not going to hang cheetah-print wallpaper in the nursery, Yura!" Mila said on moving day as the two of them unpacked the boxes labeled "Kitchen" and began storing things away in their proper spots. "The walls are going to be pink."
Putting a stack of plates away in one of the gray upper flat-panel cabinets, Yuri rolled his eyes. It was an argument they'd been having for the past couple of days. He had managed to get Otabek and Mila on board with the new wallpaper for the powder room with surprisingly little fuss, but she kept turning down all his awesome ideas for the nursery. "Come on, everybody does a pink nursery for girls. It's so damn boring."
"There's nothing wrong with girls liking pink. Besides, I'm not going to pick one of those pastel, girly-girl shades. Look at this." Closing the silverware drawer she had been organizing, Mila took out her cell and pulled up a Pinterest board she had created. "I was thinking something along this shade," she said, handing him the phone. "Wouldn't that look amazing paired with the black crib we bought and some black-and-white accessories?"
Yuri looked down at the photo on the screen. The walls were painted a very dark, saturated pink color called "Hot Lips", according to the note Mila had added to the pin. "You know, I'm gonna laugh my ass off if she ends up hating pink," he said, swiping through the rest of Mila's inspiration board, "but I guess that could look pretty cool." To his surprise, he actually really liked her ideas. Rather than the sweet princess-y style he had been picturing, it had more of a badass punk vibe.
"Right?"
Still… "But what about snow leopard-print wallpaper?"
"Yura…"
"Not on all the walls. Just one, like one of those feature wall things. Her room has that weird little nook we could put it in. Plus, it would be honoring her cultural heritage!"
"How so?"
"The Almaty coat of arms has a snow leopard on it," Yuri said smugly. Years ago, it had been one of the first things Otabek ever told him about his hometown, knowing that Yuri would find that factoid of interest.
"Well, maybe…" She took back her phone. "Beka, what do you think?" she called out.
While Yuri and Mila tackled the kitchen, Otabek had been put in charge of the family room at the front of the house. He had taken a break from hanging the framed photos he had blown up, however, typing something on his phone.
"Uh-huh. Sounds good. Whatever you want, babe," he said, not even glancing up.
Yuri raised an eyebrow. Usually Otabek was the one telling Yuri and Mila to put their phones away and pay attention to the world around them. "Beka?" He walked over to the couch where Otabek was sitting and waved a hand in front of his face. "Uh, Earth to Beka?"
Otabek finally raised his head. "Oh, sorry. Isabella had her baby last night. JJ just announced it on Instagram."
Mila joined them, wrapping her arms around Otabek's neck as she looked over his shoulder at his phone. "Oh, how wonderful! A boy or a girl?" JJ and Isabella had been Team Green, deciding not to find out the sex until delivery.
"A little boy. They named him Jean-Jacques, but plan to call him Jack."
"Of course that egomaniac would name his kid after himself," Yuri said with a roll of his eyes, plopping down in the armchair and pulling out his phone to check out JJ's Instagram himself. "That does make me curious, though. Have you two given any thought to names yet? It won't be too much longer before she's here, you know."
Otabek and Mila shared a look.
"Actually, I'm glad you brought that up, Yura," Mila said. She sat down beside Otabek on the couch, threading her fingers with his as he reached for her hand. "We've been talking, and we've decided we want you to name her."
"Me?" At first, Yuri thought it must be some sort of joke. "You do recall that you laughed for ten minutes straight when we first met and I told you my cat's name was Puma Tiger Scorpion – which is an awesome name, for the record. Right, Puma Tiger Scorpion?"
Puma Tiger Scorpion was currently busy exploring his new home, hopping on the unopened boxes scattered around the room like he was running some sort of obstacle course. He didn't respond to his name at all, of course. As awesome a name like Puma Tiger Scorpion was, it was also really, really long, and within a week of adopting him, Yuri had taken to calling him Potya instead, the nickname sticking.
"You were, what, twelve, when you named him? I trust your taste in names has matured over the years," Mila said.
"But why me?"
"Because we want you to have a part in her name, too, Yura. Beka's getting the patronymic, of course, and we've decided to give her my family name, so it only seemed fair that you get to choose her given name."
"Besides, it's also a Kazakh tradition for the parents to ask someone else to name their baby," Otabek explained. "I was named by my father's eldest brother. Most ask the paternal grandfather if he's still alive, but in this case, I couldn't imagine asking anybody else but you."
"I can really name her whatever I want?" Yuri asked, touched that they were giving him such a huge and important honor.
"Yeah. Well, within reason. Maybe stick with Russian names – or a Kazakh name might be nice, too. I can show you a website if you need inspiration."
"Anyway, we'll have veto power in case you pick something truly horrendous," Mila added, "but as long as it's not, you know, Ludmila, you'll be fine."
"I don't know. I kinda like Ludmila…" Yuri teased.
She grabbed a nearby leopard-print throw pillow and lobbed it at him, Yuri laughing as he dodged out of the way. "Veto, veto, veto!"
By dinner time, the three of them were so exhausted from unpacking all day that nobody felt much like cooking – not that there was much in the refrigerator anyway beyond whatever leftovers they brought from their respective apartments. Mila had a craving for something spicy, so after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors, Yuri was sent to get some take-out from the Mexican restaurant a couple of blocks away.
As his car was pretty much barricaded in the garage due to all the boxes they had yet to open, Yuri decided to walk and get a feel for their new neighborhood, making note of some of the local landmarks. It was a hip, upcoming area, with several restaurants and cool shops within walking distance and a pretty view of one of St. Petersburg's famous canals. He stopped to make friends with a calico lounging on the pedestrian bridge over the canal who bore a striking resemblence to Charlotte, the cat he had fallen in love with in Hawaii, and posted a selfie with her on Instagram, captioning it, "Met one of the new neighbors. She seems pretty chill."
On his way back home, however, Yuri began to regret his decision to walk when a sudden downpour hit just when he was about to turn the corner down their street.
"Oh, for the love of –"
Letting out a string of curses, he began running as fast as possible while carrying two plastic sacks loaded with food, but it didn't do much good. Yuri still ended up soaked to the bone by the time he reached the house.
"Oy, somebody get me some towels!" he shouted as soon as he stepped inside the entryway. "I'm fuckin' drench–"
Yuri sighed upon seeing Otabek and Mila making out on the couch, the two of them removing their hands from underneath their shirts and breaking apart when they realized they had been caught. "Seriously? We haven't even been here a day! If this living together thing is gonna work, you two need to keep that crap behind closed doors."
"Sorry, Yura," Mila said, standing up. "I'll get those towels."
Otabek got up as well, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to relieve Yuri of the bags. "Yeah, sorry. We…kinda got carried away."
"It's fine," Yuri said. At least they were fully clothed, this time. "We really do need to set some ground rules, though."
"Yeah, let's do that over dinner," Otabek suggested, carrying the bags over to the kitchen island to start unloading the cartons. "I hope this place has good food. It smells great."
"Can't vouch for how it looks, though. I had to run when it started raining, so everything's probably a huge mess."
Otabek shrugged. "As long as it tastes good, that's all that matters."
Mila returned from the bathroom a few moments later, carrying a couple of towels. "Here you go, Yura." She handed him one of the towels, placing the other on the floor to soak up the water that had dripped on the tile in the entryway. "You better go change out of those clothes."
"Yeah." That sounded like an excellent idea. Yuri dried off as best he could with the towel, then started climbing up the stairs to his room. "The tamales are mine!" he reminded them, leaning over the railing. "Nobody touch them."
The suite on the third story took up pretty much the entire floor, consisting of a beautifully renovated bathroom and a huge walk-in closet that Yuri was certain was larger than his entire bedroom had been at his old apartment. It was technically the master, but Otabek and Mila had given it to Yuri for now, deciding it was more important for them to be close to the baby's nursery on the second floor than to have the biggest bedroom and a private bath. Eventually, though, they planned to go through with Mila's idea to convert the basement into a studio apartment for Yuri, once the baby was a little older. Nobody had wanted the stress of dealing with a renovation in Mila's final weeks of pregnancy.
Yuri stripped out of his soaking wet clothes, tossing them in the hamper, and found a clean pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt in one of the boxes scattered around the room. A little more digging unearthed his blow dryer, Yuri deciding to take a few minutes to dry his hair before heading back downstairs to eat.
Only seconds after he turned it on, the lights in the bathroom flickered twice before completely going out.
"Shit!"
Yuri set the blow dryer down on the counter, then began feeling around the walls until he found the light switch, flipping it up and down to no avail. He cursed again. Was there an issue with the wiring? But the inspection hadn't flagged anything, and the house had been rewired only a few years ago when the previous owners had renovated.
He pulled out his cell phone – by some miracle, it was still mostly charged – and used the flashlight function to carefully make his way downstairs. It looked like the entire house was without electricity, none of the light switches he came across working.
"Beka? Mila?"
Upon reaching the first floor, Yuri found Mila lighting candles in the kitchen, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the flames.
"Beka went to check the breaker box," she informed him before he could even ask, "but he thinks it's probably out due to the storm."
As if on cue, they caught sight of a streak of lightning through the window above the sink, followed by a booming crash of thunder that caused a skittish Potya to bolt underneath the couch. The rain was coming down even harder than before, making Yuri glad he made it back when he did.
"Yeah, probably." Yuri sighed, setting his phone on the island. "Some way to spend our first night in our new home, huh?"
"Oh, I don't know," Mila said as she finished lighting the last of the available candles. "It could be kinda fun, eating dinner by candlelight." She giggled to herself. "I remember this one time, just a couple of weeks after Beka moved in, when the power went out at my old apartment. It was the middle of summer, and we were in the middle of a heat wave, so Beka and I –"
Yuri immediately held up a hand, cutting her off. "This isn't going to be another sex story, is it? 'Cause if it is, I don't wanna hear it."
"No, it's not a sex story. Well, I mean, it did eventually lead to sex, but –"
He was spared from hearing anything more by the return of Otabek from the basement. "Yeah, there's no power at all," he announced. "I'm guessing a powerline got knocked down."
"Great," Yuri muttered. If that was the case, there was no telling how long they would be without electricity.
"Well, at least we have hot food," Mila said. "Come on, let's eat! I'm starving."
They all took a seat around the island, where Mila had placed the majority of the candles, and began eating straight out of the cartons, nobody wanting to dirty any plates and have to clean up later. It actually was kind of fun to eat by candlelight, Yuri had to admit. Over a delicious meal of tamales, enchiladas, and burritos, they discussed how to divide the chores between them – Yuri was assigned cooking on weekdays, taking out the trash, and cleaning the litter box (along with all other Potya-related necessities) – and came up with some much needed ground rules now that they were all living together. Otabek and Mila agreed to keep anything beyond brief kisses confined to their bedroom and second floor bathroom, and in exchange, Yuri promised he would try to tone down his language in front of the baby when she arrived.
"Oh, man, I am stuffed," Mila said, rubbing her stomach after eating the last bit of her refried beans. She stood and began gathering up the trash. "So, what should we do now? It's still early."
"Yura, why don't you pop open that bottle of champagne in the fridge?" Otabek suggested.
Mila pouted. "You're going to drink in front of me while I'm carrying your child? I never knew you were so cruel, Beka."
He chuckled, pecking her on the cheek as he stood up from his stool and began helping her with the trash. "Don't worry. It's non-alcoholic. You can have some, too."
"But if there's no alcohol, what's the point?"
Yuri was thinking along the same lines. After all, wasn't non-alcoholic champagne basically glorified grape juice?
"Yura, just pour us some glasses, okay? I'll be back in a minute," Otabek said, grabbing the flashlight he had taken down with him to the basement and heading for the stairs.
"Wait, where are you going?" Yuri asked.
"I have to get something from our room."
Yuri raised an eyebrow in Mila's direction. "Do you know what he's getting?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine. I have no clue."
Doing as he had been asked, Yuri grabbed three champagne flutes from the cabinet and popped opened the bottle of non-alcoholic champagne that Otabek had secretly chilled in the fridge. He was pouring the last of the flutes when Otabek returned to the kitchen, setting almost identical small black velvet boxes down on the island in front of Mila and Yuri. The only difference between them was that Mila's box was topped with a tiny metallic pink bow and Yuri's with a bow covered in a fun leopard print.
"Beka, what's this?" Mila asked. "You got us presents?"
A soft smile crossed his lips. "Open it. You too, Yura."
"Okay…" Mila caught Yuri's eye across the island. "On the count of three?"
Yuri nodded, reaching for his own box. "One…two…three!"
They opened their boxes on cue, Mila letting out a gasp while Yuri's eyes widened when he saw the black tungsten band nestled inside.
"They're… Well, I suppose you can call them commitment rings, if you want," Otabek explained. "They're a symbol of my love and loyalty to both of you. Here." He took the box from Mila's hand and pulled out a gold band attached to a long chain. "Since your fingers have been swollen lately, I thought it might be easier for you to wear it as a necklace for now. May I?"
Mila nodded and turned her back to him, allowing him to clasp the chain around her neck. "Thank you, Beka. I love it," she said, squinting as she took a closer look at the ring. "Oh, there's something engraved on the inside, but I can't read it. Is it Kazakh? Ma-hab…"
"Mahabbatym." He wrapped his arms around Mila's rounded belly, kissing her temple as she craned her neck to look at him. "It means 'my love'."
Smiling, Mila repeated the word. "Mahabbatym. Forever and always."
After kissing her again, Otabek released Mila from his embrace and walked over to Yuri. "Yours is engraved, too, although it might be hard to see since the metal is black and it's so dark in here at the moment." As he did with Mila, he took the box from Yuri's hand and removed the ring. "Give me your hand."
Yuri held out his left hand, but Otabek shook his head.
"No, the other one."
He switched hands, softly inhaling as Otabek slipped the black band onto the middle finger of his right hand. "Good, it fits," Otabek said, relieved. "I wasn't sure what size to get for your middle finger."
Still at an uncharacteristic loss for words, Yuri could do nothing but stare at Otabek, aware of the second meaning behind his ring. He remembered reading about it online a long time ago, when Otabek had first introduced him to the term "asexual". A black ring worn on the middle finger of a person's right hand signified asexuality – in other words, it was an ace ring.
"Zhanym." Otabek brought Yuri's hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against the dark metal. "My soul."
"Beka…"
Otabek accepted him, had always accepted him as he was. Yuri knew that, of course, yet he had never felt it so strongly until Otabek put the ring on his finger. If the black band was also intended to be a commitment ring, then the unspoken message was clear: I will love you completely and without expectation for the rest of our lives.
Yuri's eyes watered with tears, which he was quick to wipe away with his free hand. No words seemed good enough to convey the depth of his love and gratitude, so he showed Otabek instead, pulling his hand away and kissing Otabek softly on the lips.
It was only a brief kiss, Yuri unaccustomed to showing such affection toward Otabek in front of other people – even Mila – but it had the intended effect. Otabek's dark eyes widened in surprise, his lips breaking into a soft smile when Yuri pulled away, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ears in mild embarrassment.
"So, yeah, um, thanks," he mumbled.
Mila giggled, plucking one of the champagne glasses from off the island counter and walking over to join them. "This is almost like a wedding ceremony, isn't it?" she said, her free arm wrapping around Otabek's waist. "Oh, except we don't have a ring for you, Beka…"
"That's right, I almost forgot…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out yet another ring – a gold band encircled with a thick stripe of black enamel. "Both your names are engraved on the inside of it," Otabek said as he slipped it onto his left ring finger. He then grabbed the last two champagne flutes from the island, handing one over to Yuri while keeping the last for himself. "I'd like to propose a toast," he announced, holding the glass aloft. "I just wanted you both to know how much I love you. Even though this wasn't how I ever imagined my life turning out, I wouldn't change a thing. So, here's to our future – may it be filled with love, understanding, and a lifetime of happy memories!"
"To our future!" Yuri and Mila repeated in unison, the three of them clinking their glasses together in cheers.
It wasn't until almost ten o'clock that the electricity was restored, the storm having lost most of its bluster. The thunder and lightning had faded away, leaving behind only a gentle rain in their wake.
With nothing else to do, they had spent the rest of the evening playing countless rounds of various card games by candlelight, Otabek winning most of the hands due to his infamous poker face. Upon the lights coming back on, however, Otabek and Mila decided to call it a night. Mila, in particular, could barely manage to keep her eyes open as Otabek gently took her by the hand and guided her upstairs to their new bedroom.
Yuri, on the other hand, was still feeling wide awake despite all the unpacking he had done earlier. He blew out all the candles they had lit, throwing out the ones that had melted too much to reuse, then poured himself another glass of the non-alcoholic champagne. He missed the buzz the real thing gave him, but it actually wasn't half-bad once he got used to it.
Potya, no longer hiding now that the worst of the storm had ended, jumped onto his lap as Yuri took a seat in one of the armchairs. Yuri gently stroked the old cat's white fur, rewarded with a contented purr.
"So, how do you like our new home?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink. "It's a lot bigger than any of the apartments we've ever lived in, huh?" Even Lilia's fancy condominium seemed small in comparison.
It was strange. Yuri had expected things to be awkward at first, learning to live with Otabek and Mila after years of being mostly on his own, yet even with mountains of boxes left to be unpacked, the new house already felt like…home. Home, in a way he hadn't really experienced since leaving Grandpa's tiny apartment in Moscow at ten years old to board with some random family who had agreed to take him in so that he could train in St. Petersburg. Living with Lilia and Yakov as a teenager had come close, but…
He smiled, lifting his hand off Potya's back to admire the black band on his middle finger. As Otabek had said during his toast, his life hadn't turned out anything like he'd expected either. Of course, the Olympic gold and all his other championship titles had always been a part of his plan, but... If he could travel back in time and tell his fifteen-year-old self that six years later, he'd be living in a gorgeous house with the annoying hag who wouldn't stop lifting and teasing him and a super-cool Kazakh boy he had apparently met once before as a child, the three of them planning to raise a kid together as part of an unconventional family unit, Yuri was certain his younger self would have laughed in his face before kicking his own older ass.
Yuri twirled the stem of his flute between his thumb and pointer finger, frowning as he thought back to that time. God, he'd been so full of anger back then. Angry at his mother for abusing and abandoning him, for putting her libido and her addictions above her responsibilities to the son she had kept, but never truly wanted. Angry at his non-existent bastard of a father, who Yuri blamed, unfairly or not, for his mother's descent into a life of drugs and alcoholism. Angry at Viktor for forgetting their promise in favor of chasing after some other Yuuri in Japan, and angry at that same Yuuri for constantly failing to live up to the potential Yuri knew he had in him to become his fiercest rival. He'd hated how Yakov and the Russian Federation kept pressuring him to become the next Viktor Nikiforov, and he'd hated JJ simply for existing, but probably more for the fact that he had two wonderful parents who loved and supported him so much that they had decided to coach him to his Olympic dreams, despite their specialty being ice dance rather than freestyle skating.
Back then, it had just been himself, Grandpa, and Potya. Yuri hadn't needed – nor wanted – anybody else. No other family to abandon him, no other friends to disappoint him, and definitely no boyfriends or girlfriends to pressure him into doing things he had no desire to do. Even before Yuri came to the realization he was asexual a couple of years later, the idea of dating and falling in love had never appealed to him.
But then Viktor gave him his On Love: Agape short program for his debut on the senior circuit, and everything changed.
As loathed as he was to credit the old man for somehow realizing what he needed was not Eros, but Agape, skating Viktor's program had awakened a part of himself Yuri had tried so hard to keep buried, opening his heart, little by little, and allowing him to believe in the goodness of love again. He might have still won all his medals with a different program choreographed by someone else, but Yuri shuddered to think how his life would have turned out otherwise. He probably would have followed in his mother's footsteps, drowning in booze and bitterness.
Yuri raised up his half-drunken glass. He may not have had the best parents, but he wouldn't give up his new family for anything in the world. "Here's to the bonds we choose," he said softly, bringing the flute to his lips for a sip.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled him from his thoughts.
He set down his glass on the table beside his chair and looked up at the staircase, surprised to see that Otabek had stopped midway down the stairs.
"Yura, you're still up," he said. "I thought you'd be in bed already. It's been a long day."
"Yeah. I…uh…was just thinking about some things." Yuri frowned, noticing the folded blankets and pillow Otabek carried in the crook of his left arm. "Did you and Mila have a fight?"
"What? Oh, no, we're fine." Otabek continued to make his way down the stairs, placing the pillow and blankets on the arm of the couch. "Mila's been having a rough time finding a comfortable position to sleep in lately," he explained. "I've been sleeping on the couch for the past week or so to give her more room."
"Beka, that's not good for your back!"
Otabek shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I don't mind." He unfolded one of the blankets, using it to cover the couch cushions. "It's only until the baby's born."
"But the Grand Prix is about to start. Your first competition is only a few weeks away," Yuri reminded him.
"Really, it's not that bad. This couch is actually pretty comfortable.
Yuri knew for a fact that it wasn't. It was Mila's old couch, the one he had slept on the night he got drunk for the first time, so he was well-aware how uncomfortable it could be. They were planning to buy a new one soon, one that came equipped with a fold-out bed that could be used when Otabek's family or one of Mila's parents came by for an overnight visit, but there hadn't been much time to go shopping for new furniture other than buying the new crib and a few other pieces for the nursery.
If Otabek wanted to play martyr, though…
"If you say so… I guess we'll go upstairs, then, so you can get some sleep," Yuri said, standing and gathering Potya in his arms. "'Night."
"Good night. See you in the morning."
Yuri only made it halfway up the stairs before stopping and turning to look down over the railing.
This was ridiculous! He had a perfectly good queen-sized bed in his room, more than big enough for the two of them to share; there was no reason Otabek needed to risk hurting his back sleeping on the couch.
"Beka, come on, you're sleeping with me," he called down, Otabek glancing up from fluffing his pillow.
"What?"
"I mean, not like that," Yuri said when he realized how suggestive he sounded. "We would just, um, sleep in the same bed. That's all."
"You wouldn't mind?" Otabek asked.
Yuri rolled his eyes. "Of course not. It would be dumb if you didn't qualify for the Final because you fucked up your back. As long as you don't mind sharing with Potya, too…"
Otabek chuckled. "I think I can live with that."
He grabbed his pillow, leaving the blankets behind, and followed Yuri up the stairs to the third floor master suite.
"Sorry about the mess," Yuri said, kicking a box out of the way. They had concentrated most of their effort in getting the main living area set up, so he hadn't had time to unpack much, the room still filled with assorted boxes and bags. "I'm gonna wash up."
"Okay."
After setting Potya down at the foot of the bed, Yuri headed to the en-suite bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. By the time he came back out, Otabek was already in bed, scratching a purring Potya behind the ears. The cat had decided to make Otabek his new pillow, curled up on top of his stomach.
Yuri couldn't resist smiling at the sight, pulling out his phone to snap a quick photo before joining them in bed.
"Hey, that's my Beka you're laying on," he playfully lectured, picking Potya up and moving him back to the foot of the bed where he normally slept.
"I didn't mind," Otabek said.
"Well, I did." He slipped underneath the blankets and scooted closer to Otabek. "Turn over on your side."
"Why? This bed is plenty big enough for the both of us."
"Just do it."
Otabek did as he was told, at first turning toward Yuri until he motioned for him to face the other direction. Once he was flipped over on his other side, Yuri pressed himself against Otabek's broad back, wrapping an arm around his midsection.
"I'm the little spoon?" Otabek asked, surprised.
"I'm taller than you," Yuri pointed out.
"By barely a couple of centimeters."
Technically by three and a half centimeters, but who was counting? "Still taller."
Otabek laughed. "Okay, okay, you win."
He stretched his arm out to turn off the lamp on his side of the bed, the room falling into darkness save for the moonlight passing through the windows. Yuri had forgotten to put up his curtains, so they had an almost unobstructed view of the night sky, although there wasn't much to see thanks to all the light pollution of the city. It made Yuri miss the beautiful skies back in Hawaii.
"This feels weird, doesn't it?" Otabek said after a few moments, craning his neck to look over his shoulder at Yuri.
"Yeah, kinda," he had to admit. It wasn't a bad sort of "weird", but it didn't feel as natural as when Otabek had spooned against him before.
"Wanna switch?"
"No." Yuri liked that in this position, he could be close to him without becoming aware of any surprise boners that may unintentionally pop up on Otabek's part. He hadn't completely ruled out the possibility of trying to have sex with Otabek again sometime in the future, but for tonight, all he wanted was to sleep in the same bed with no expectations of anything sexual happening between them. "No, let me hold you tonight," Yuri said softly, tightening his hold around Otabek's stomach and burying his face at the back of his neck.
"Okay," Otabek agreed in as equally soft a voice. "Good night, Yura. I love you."
Yuri, eyes already closed, blindly kissed what he assumed was Otabek's shoulder. "G'night. Love you, too."
The words came much easily to him now.
DISCLAIMER: "Yuri! On Ice" doesn't belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So, I did a little Googling and it looks like there aren't any real townhouse-style homes in St. Petersburg? Oops! But I was too attached to the idea anyway, so let's pretend townhouses actually are a thing in my fictionalized version of St. Petersburg. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to next month's finale! The baby is coming!
Feel free to follow me on Tumblr! My username is kaleidodreams.
