As a kid, the basement was always my favorite spot to hide from someone, especially my parents when they wanted to put me to bed. But this time was different. I wasn't hiding from anyone. I wasn't alone.

To be brutally honest, I never really spend much time in my own basement. It still looked well-polished and almost too perfect. (Not for much longer?) Down here was the most random shit… a stack of old books, a few bottles of vodka, a flower pot with fake flowers, a king-sized bed… That sort of stuff. But that doesn't matter right now.

Yuri definitely had me shocked when I realized how much more eager he was than me. Right now, he says he's getting dressed… which I don't think is the point, but maybe he has something special in mind. I simply sit on the comforter in the meantime while reading one of the old books I own but had let die down here with the dust bunnies.

The book is a kid's picture book, called "Jack and the Beanstalk", illustrated by Matt Faulkner. I remember getting this book years ago to help myself learn better English. I don't need it anymore.

When I hear Yuri come out of the room he was changing in, I glance over only to feel my heart pounding out of my chest. Shit, he looked good. He was wearing black pants with a tight, black, semi-transparent top. His face was oddly bare without his glasses, but I think I could get used to that. There was a sash from the shirt on the right hip, and sequins were spread along his torso. "It's a figure skating outfit," he tells me as he walks forward, closer to me and the bed.

"You're a figure skater?" I quietly ask, not taking an eye off of him. Keep in mind, he might be my boyfriend, but I don't know everything about him just yet. And I've got all the time in the world to find out.

He sits next to me, legs crossed over each other and a sexy smirk spread across his face. "You'd think." He adjusts his posture before continuing. "When I was younger, I always dreamed of being a figure skater. However, my family didn't have enough money to afford to pay for lessons, much less several outfits for the performances. I haven't bothered going into figure skating since, and I'm okay with that. Just putting on this outfit I recently bought makes me feel amazing."

"You look stunning."

He glances over to shine me a genuine smile. "Thanks." Being this close, I can confidently identify the prominent mascara on his eyelashes. When I first had a look at this man in that cafe, I never would have seen this side of him… his "Eros". His hand gently undoes the buttons further and further down my chest. My face shouldn't be as warm as it is right now.

"Yuri?" I whisper.

He stops after the last button on my shirt is undone. "Yeah?"

"Have you done this with someone before?"

Yuri smiles. "No. I never felt so confident." His fingertips lightly trace over my bare torso as he slowly drops the smile. But I'll safely leave out the rest, you pervs.

I have to admit, I've never had such a uniquely two-sided person in my life before… He has both Eros and Agape. I absolutely adore this Yuri.

We got into relaxed, cozy around-the-house sort of clothes afterwards. I had to lend him some of mine. (All he had was his clothes from work which were still soaked from putting them on after being in the pool… and he had his figure skating outfit which, trust me, I saw a lot of in the past time.

Yuri, who was comfortably planted on the living room couch for a while, suddenly jumps up and bolts for my bedroom. Laughing, I run after him and see what the heck he's got up his sleeve now. When I get to my room, he's picking up the cage.

My jaw drops. "Makkachin!" Yuri opens the hatch and a poodle comes darting out. I completely forgot about the poor thing.

Yuri's arms fold across his chest, giving me a smug glance from the corner of his eye. "Aaand who guessed it?"

A lovely puddle was waiting in Makkachin's cage, and, habitually, I snatch up the dog and run to the front door to get outside. Yuri fetches some paper towel for us to wipe his paws down with.

"I. Feel. Awful."

Yuri rubs my back as I sulk with a full cup of coffee warming up my hands. I take a satisfyingly loud sip. "It's the first week," Yuri gently mumbles, "It'll only get better."

A slight nod of my head shows him my hope. "Praying."

The puppy sits in front of the both of us, sleepily lying in cinnamon-roll orientation after playing outside. "He's lovely, Viktor," whispers Yuri as we gaze at the fluffy dog slowly moving up and down with each breath. It gives me a sense of calmness, and probably to Yuri as well.

"He does have a pure soul." I reply with a small grin.

My boyfriend leans into my shoulder, his eyes still on Makkachin. "The purest."

All of a sudden, the phone rings from in the kitchen. I stand up from the couch to go and pick it up. "Hello?"

"Viktor, it's been a while," the scratchy, old voice o the other line mutters. "How are you, kid?"

"Just… lovely," I say and then quickly put the phone to my side to mute him out. I look to Yuri, point at the phone, and whisper, "Yakov."

He frowns, confused, and tries to ask me something else, but by this point I've put the phone back to my ear and continued talking.

I let out an exhausted groan before responding. "You're inviting me over for dinner." Yuri seems a little uncomfortable listening to just my end of the line.

"Yes, you heard me right." the aged Russian man replies, a slight tone of annoyance showing through. "You do remember where I live, correct? You know how much I hate telling you my address this many times."

I clear my throat and peek over at Yuri on the couch, who looks quite puzzled. "I'll find it. And Yakov-"

"What?"

"... I have company over at the moment."

"No worries…" he slowly answers, "Bring the boy along. I'd love to meet him."

"You… Yakov…?"

A quiet chuckle comes from the other line. "Trust me, Viktor. You're an open book and gay as hell."

I immediately hang up on him, slapping the phone down onto the counter in frustration. Shit… Is it really that obvious?!

Yuri gets up from the couch, wrapping his confused self with a cozy blanket. "So who's Yakov?" His voice is calm, but I can still tell he's a little scared. Besides, all he heard was me talking to some guy who wanted to invite me over for dinner. I'd be confused, too, if the roles were reversed.

I firmly look him in the eyes and say, "Yakov is honestly the most annoying old Russian man you'll ever meet. I knew him like a grandfather back in Russia as a young kid, but when me and my family moved here, he couldn't help but follow us." I let out a long, tired sigh and run a and through my silver bangs. "Yakov haunts me to this very day with his snoopy, sassy, grumpy, or sarcastic remarks. And he just invited us to his alcohol-filled, smoke-polluted home."

The relieved smile Yuri gives me makes my heart pang a little at the thought of missing out on seeing him in color.

That's right: I haven't forgotten about it just yet. But I'm also happy for the two of us for our healthy progression. I've never felt so good dating before. Plus, I think we really have a shot at finding color. Not like that's what we're working towards. Heck, no. I don't need anything more than Yuri to love Yuri. Color is simply… a perk.

My hands loosen grip on the wheel since we aren't moving anyways. "Thank you, snow, for the worst traffic ever." Sometimes I really hate snow. I groan and check the time.

Next to me in shotgun, Yuri grins and then presses the horn twice to honk at the people ahead of us. We're stuck in a terrible snow storm trying to get to Yakov's house in time for dinner at seven.

"Yuri," I laugh while shaking my head, "It's not their fault!" He just smirks and hits it one more time. "You know what?" I ask him.

"What?"

"You're a real piece of work."

He raises an eyebrow, looks me in the eyes, and leans in closer to my face. "I love you, too." I'm so close that I can feel his breath. A loud, annoyed honk suddenly blares from behind.

"SHIT!" we yell, snapping away from each other ad quickly fixing our eyes on the road ahead. I put my foot on the gas pedal, tighten my grip on the wheel, and make a swift right turn. I continue to slowly make way through the snow to reach Yakov's disgusting living space he calls home.

When we finally find his house, I decide to park next to the road curb instead of bothering to pull in to the driveway. Yuri and I hop out and lock the car before walking to the front door. I painfully chuckle and sink a hand into Yuri's. "Here goes nothing."