He must have damaged a thicker vein. The blood ran down his ring finger like a red thread - how metaphoric. It didn't even hurt, just a vague burning sensation where he had cut through the skin.

The elevator opened and Yuri stepped inside. He looked a little paler than usually, his complexion more gray than porcelain white. When Otabek followed him inside the elevator he looked down on the injured hand and the corners of his mouth twitched into a grimace. "You're staining the floor."

It was true. A drop of blood had fallen from the hand that Otabek held close to his leg. A little red dot next to his foot. With a frown he wrapped the right hand around the left, pressing against the cut to stop the bleeding. The blood felt sticky under his fingers.

Yuri huffed, then typed in the code for the upper floors into the number pad.

0 - 8 - 2 - 7

It took a second for Otabek to realize what the combination was: the date of Nikolai's death. His fingers clenched around his left hand and now it did hurt, but not the wound on his finger.

Yuri didn't say a word when the elevator started moving, and he didn't when the doors opened after a short ride. He stepped out of it and Otabek followed him wordlessly.

In contrast to the door that led to the Orlov Kompaniya, opulent with dark wood and the golden crest, the door to Yuri's apartment was plain and white. When Yuri unlocked it with another code that Otabek couldn't see standing behind the boy and then opened it, he recognized it as a heavy security door made of what was undoubtedly bulletproof metal. He followed Yuri inside and the door fell closed behind him with a soft but solid sound.

He didn't have time to look around when suddenly Yuri turned around and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pressing Otabek back against the cold door.

"What the fuck are you thinking?!", Yuri yelled at him, his eyes narrow slits, glittering with wrath. "Are you completely insane now?! Coming here and applying for this fucking job! If you want to have yourself killed there are easier goddamn ways, you asshole!"

"Yuri-", Otabek tried to pacify, only to be interrupted by the furious blonde again:

"Do you have any idea what danger you got yourself in, to hand yourself to him on a motherfucking silver platter?! I had no idea you were such a damn idiot! Fucking-" He pulled Otabek away from the door, and pushed him back against it violently.

Otabek could have made Yuri let go of him, but he didn't want to fight him. What he wanted to was explain. "Yuri…", he tried again and again Yuri interrupted him.

"Don't call me that, for fuck's sake! Do you want us both dead?"

"I want to protect you", Otabek countered, his voice low and steady where Yuri's was a mere hiss now.

"If that's how you plan on keeping me safe you do a fucking awful job", he judged, but mellowed the grip on Otabek's shirt.

"It wasn't my idea,", Otabek hurried to say, "Boris and Aljosha called me here, I didn't even know why. They brought me up here without telling me anything. I had no idea. I thought they might have found out about yesterday and brought me here to let Orlov kill me with his own hands."

With a huff Yuri pushed him against the door a little harder, then let go of him. "And you came here nevertheless?"

Otabek straightened his clothes. "What else should I have done? He could have punished you. If he had found out about us, if he knew, he could have hurt you."

Yuri had walked a step backwards. He gestured towards Otabek's hand clasped around his bleeding finger. "Instead he made you hurt yourself", and when Otabek only nodded he murmured: "You would have done it, am I right? You would have cut your finger off."

Otabek nodded. "If it had proven my sense of duty to him I would have done it. If it was necessary to bring me closer to you I would have done it."

The next moment he felt Yuri's hands in his hair and his lips on his own. The kiss was nothing like any of their kisses before. Last night they had been soft and gentle and sweet. Now it was desperate, almost brutal. Yuri tugged on his hair and pressed their mouths together. When he opened his lips Otabek did the same. He hadn't kissed like this before, of course he hadn't. But it felt good. Yuri's tongue was there and he wrapped his arms around the skinny body, pulling him closer. Yuri's mouth was warm and moist and sweet and he felt like crying and at the same time so indescribably happy. When after a moment Yuri pulled away his heart beat like it wanted to break out of his chest.

"I love you", Yuri whispered, breathless, his forehead pressed against Otabek's. "You fucking moron, I love you so much."

Otabek pulled him close. He never wanted to let him go. "I love you too", he whispered.

"It's dangerous", Yuri said after a while, holding him close. "He knows you now. He'll keep an eye on you. It was stupid to come here. So very stupid. But I'm glad." He looked up again and kissed him softly, like last night. "We have to be careful, Otabek… Erasyl. No one will watch us here, there are no cameras here, but damn, he can come here. And they will watch us literally everywhere else. We have to be very, very careful. Any mistake might cost us our lives."

"I won't let that happen", Otabek whispered and placed a gentle kiss on Yuri's lips. Then he let him go. "I won't let anything happen to neither Yuri nor Katyusha." He straightened and frowned, but he felt the pain he saw in Yuri's eyes in his chest as well.

Yuri took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Let's do something about your finger, before you're ruining the floor."

Looking down on his hands Otabek saw that the bleeding had almost stopped, but both his hands were bloodstained now.

"Come."

Otabek followed Yuri through the spacious apartment. It was almost entirely white, the walls high and austere, the hardwood floor only visible as a narrow plank surrounding thick white carpets that spread across the bigger part of the living room. There was a huge white leather couch and seats of the same design arranged around a glass coffee table and facing the biggest flat screen Otabek had ever seen in person. There were cabinets, glossy and white, as well as a sideboard. The shutters hanging in front of the large windows were closed so that the light was blueish and dim, making the room look surreal.

They crossed the room to enter the one farther left, a dining room with a white table and six chairs. There was a coffee mug sitting on the corner of the table. Clunky and gray it looked terribly out of place, like someone had placed it there to spoil the sterility of the plain white room. It jutted half a centimeter over the edge of the table and it made Otabek uneasy to look at it, like it would fall onto the white carpet under the table with the slightest nudge of even an unlucky gust.

"The bathroom is over here", Yuri said. He led him through a door on the left. What seemed to be the ceiling, hanging angular, could only be the stairs that led from the entrance door up to the left to the second floor - or the 37th rather.

The bathroom was small. Otabek guessed there was a bigger one upstairs, as well as the bedroom. Yuri was already at the cabinet next to the basin, pulling the top drawer out. He produced a cardboard box and pulled the lid aside to take a peek at the contents. "Lucky you", he said and fished a band aid out of the box. "Last one."

Otabek smiled the tiniest smile when he had washed the blood from his hands and Yuri made him sit down on the toilet lid, kneeling on the floor to attach the band aid to his finger. There were tiny stylized cats on the band aid.

Yuri pressed the sticky ends around Otabek's finger gently, then he smiled up at him. His cheeks turned a little pink when he lowered his eyes and kissed the injured knuckle. "Now it won't hurt anymore", he whispered without looking up at him as if he was embarrassed.

Otabek swallowed hard. He doubted that he would ever get over how beautiful Yuri was, how enchanting. With the patched up hand he brushed a loose golden strand from Yuri's peachy pink cheek, tucking it behind the pretty ear. His voice sounded raspy when he said: "Thank you."

Yuri blushed even more and bit his lip, then shook his head. "Thank you…" He sighed, then got up again. "Come on, let me show you around for real."

He gave Yuri a tour through the first floor of the apartment that he had seen the bigger part of already, only the kitchen a new sight. They went back over to the stairs, Yuri leading him to the upper floor. Coming upstairs Otabek was greeted by floor-to-ceiling windows, the shutters open to reveal a balcony with grass on the ground and beyond it the most beautiful sight of Moscow he had ever witnessed.

He had never thought about the city much. It was where Yuri came from was what mattered. And recently it was where Yuri lived. Nothing else had ever been of interest for him here. But finding himself confronted with the city so old, so sublime sent a shiver down his spine. He gazed at the tall, lean buildings in the dull morning sun, the glass fronts shining and a few of the Seven Sisters raising their heads over the surrounding rooftops. The Ostankino Tower and the Monument to the Conquerors of Space stuck out in a distance like thorns piercing the blueish-gray sky that reflected in the Moskva and the canal that laid like ribbons of spilled quicksilver across the city. It was beautiful and nasty at the same time, like a demon that had grasped his heart with a cold and brutal but bizarrely beautiful hand.

He turned to find Yuri an arm length away from him, staring out of the huge window as well. The cold of the sky made his eyes miss the sparkle he had fallen in love with.

"I hate it", he said, his voice weak. "It's so broken and corrupted. I want to run away and never look back, but I feel like I would die if I did. Like leaving would separate a part from me that's vital. That can never be replaced. Something that is rooted so deep inside of me that it keeps me here. It's a leash, but it's attached to my very soul. This place is a prison. An ugly, cold, painful prison and I couldn't leave it even if I wanted, because it's a part of what's left of me, the real me." He turned his head and looked at Otabek with so much despair in his clouded eyes that he felt like his heart was breaking in a million pieces.

"The code for the elevator", Otabek asked slowly. "It's the day your grandfather died."

Yuri nodded.

"The code for the front door…"

"It's the day you died."

Otabek frowned.

"One-zero-three-one", Yuri whispered.

Otabek felt tears well up in his eyes. "Please don't", he said, his voice cracking so that it came out as a hoarse whisper. He couldn't bring out the words, so Yuri said:

"It was meant to be the day you died. Now it's your birthday." His eyes lit up when something came to his mind. "I… I never had the opportunity to give you your present." He chuckled lowly, rubbing tears from his own eyes with the back of his hand. "I still have it. Do you want it?"

Otabek nodded, his teeth clenched to fight the tears back.

"Come." Yuri grabbed his hand and guided him along the glass doors to the bedroom that faced the farther side of the balcony.

The large bed was pushed against the wall in the far back, the sheets as white as the rest of the apartment. In the right corner, between the bed and the wall that separated the bathroom visible through the open door from the bedroom, a cat condo caught Otabek's eye. The perches were covered with leopard print cloth, the only hint of Yuri's taste he had spotted so far. Apart from that the upper floor was just as sterile as everything else Otabek had seen so far.

Yuri pulled him over to the bed and pushed the rumpled blanket aside for Otabek to sit down on the mattress. Then he pulled the drawer of the small night stand open and rummaged around in it for a moment. He stopped, hesitated, then took a small box out of the drawer.

"It's not a ring", he pointed out and pushed the small box in Otabek's hands. "It's nothing special, really", he mumbled. "Actually it's a little embarrassing now, but back then I thought… I don't know, I thought it was a nice idea back then… Maybe I should have never…" He sighed.

Otabek smiled as he turned the small tiger striped box in his hands. "Can I open it?"

Yuri only shrugged, his cheeks and nose tip red.

Otabek opened the box carefully. The lid opened like a ring box and the inside was lined with black velvet or something similar. There was no ring inside, though, like Yuri had said. Instead there was a small pendant. It looked like a Kazakh coin, 50 tiyin, like the one he had worn as a lucky charm, but not in the usual silver. He picked it from the velvet, a thin chain unraveling like a liquid.

"It's made of bronze", Yuri explained low-voiced. "I had it made after you told me that you lost yours in Pyeongchang. I always thought that you deserved Bronze in Barcelona, so… well… maybe you think it's stupid…"

"No", Otabek said. He closed his fist around the small coin, pressing it to his chest. "It means a lot to me." When Yuri shrugged he added: "It's the most precious thing I can think of."

A small smile showed on rosy lips. "More precious than me?"

Otabek huffed a laugh. "Let's say it's even."

The grin that lit up Yuri's face might have been just as precious.

"You had that made for me?", he asked, opening his hand and looking down onto the shimmering coin. It was weird to see the familiar shape and embossing in a metal different from the usual silver. It was beautiful. When Otabek looked closer he saw that the year at the bottom of the coin was his birth year. He looked up to Yuri whose smile looked shy and proud equally. "Thank you", Otabek said and took Yuri's hand to place a kiss on his fingertips.

Yuri helped him putting on the chain and tucking it underneath his shirt. His soft fingers brushed against Otabeks skin. When the metal touched his chest a little under his collarbone it felt cold, but within seconds the metal warmed up against his skin. Otabek shot a glance at the diamond studded bracelet around Yuri's right wrist. Odd how small pieces of metal could hold meanings so similar yet so entirely different. They were both promises, Yuri's bracelet Orlov's promise to protect him, but at the same time a manacle that bound Yuri to him. On the other hand Otabek liked to think of the bronze pendant as a promise, too - Yuri's promise to believe in Otabek. It meant so much to him.

"About that,", Yuri said, fixing Otabek's necktie, "we need to get you to the outfitter. Those suits you wear look kinda okay, but now that you are officially my driver you could use some tailored garments. I have a reputation and from today on you do too."

Otabek nodded. "As you wish, master."

For a moment Yuri stared at him, then he broke out in laughter. "Oh wow, your humor is still the worst!"

д

Afternoon found Otabek in a café downtown with a black tea and going through the small ad section of several newspapers.

Yuri had convinced him that they could not spent too much time together, not when Orlov knew they were together. "Too hinky", he had whispered and pressed a kiss onto Otabek's lips, then shoved him towards the door. "You remember the rules?"

"I will not touch you,", Otabek repeated what they had agreed upon earlier, after Yuri had showed him the rest of the apartment, "I will not reach out to you. I will always wait for you to call me, text me or come to me. I will never talk to anyone about you, unless it would make me look suspicious. I will call you Katyusha."

"At all times", Yuri pressed. "You will call me Katyusha at all times, wherever we are, even if noone is around. Even here. Even in the car. Even outside. And I will call you Erasyl. We can never use our real names. Only here, when we can be sure that no one is around and at your place."

"Only here and there", Otabek nodded in agreement.

"It's safe there, isn't it?", Yuri whispered, holding Otabek's hands tight like he intended to break them.

"It's safe there", he echoed, leaning in and placing his lips on Yuri's comfortingly.

Yuri leaned in the kiss a little, then backed away, too soon for Otabek's taste. "You need to leave", he said. His fingers still holding Otabek's hands tight spoke a different language.

"Will you be alright?", he asked and Yuri nodded.

"Of course I will be. You should care about yourself for a change."

"I will never stop caring about you, Yuri", he promised, then corrected himself. "Katyusha." It felt wrong saying that name. But of course there was no helping it. Yuri was right, they couldn't take any risks. The smallest mistake could cost them their lives. The only place that he knew was a hundred percent safe was his own flat, and he knew because he had personally chosen it for being a perfect hideaway.

"Go", Yuri said and this time let go of Otabek's hands. "I'll text you later, Erasyl."

He had left with a plan forming in his head even before the elevator doors slid shut.

So now he was going through the narrowly printed lines of small ads in tiny cyrillic characters, marking interesting entries with a circle here and there. The cats on the bandaid seemed to pitter-patter over the paper.

He had decided that the traditional way of finding a used car, namely by buying newspapers and try his luck with the ads in them, was safer than looking for one online. He wouldn't want to leave any traces on the internet that could be tracked back to him and he didn't know enough about erasing them or not leaving traces in the first place to make sure to avoid anything that could put him in danger. Calling someone who sold their car from a phone booth and arrange a meeting if he found something was less risky, especially if he bought the car right away paying in cash. He would never meet the person a second time, he could just take the key and car documents and disappear without even telling them his name.

He did have to look up the car models online though. There were dozens of cars in each newspaper, and after the fifth page he had a feeling for what brand and model had been sold in masses years ago. It would be the smartest to chose one that wouldn't stand out in the Moscow traffic, so he mostly circled small cars built between 1995 and 2005. He wrote down the phone numbers and specifics of eight cars in question and emptied his cup before leaving the café.

He walked half an hour, making sure to shake off anyone who might have gotten interested in him in the café, before dumping the newspapers in a lopsided trash bin and heading over to a telephone booth on the opposite side of the street.

The first number he dialed was out of service, the second one had an answering machine cutting in before the first ring ended. Of course he didn't leave a message.

The third call was answered by a man who first coughed into the receiver in a way that made Otabek suspect that he either smoked three packs of cigarettes a day or had a serious bronchitis.

"You're calling for the car?", he asked without a greeting and when Otabek answered affimative he hummed: "Listen, I've had a dozen people come see the car today, but as soon as they realize that the heating and the rear wiper and the lock and the window handle on the passenger's side really don't work they leave. I'm tired of this shit." He coughed again. "So, if you haven't read the ad properly and are not okay with the flaws the car has then don't bother me. I've got better things to do than stand outside and wait of another one of you just to be let down."

The man sounded like he was ready to hang up, so Otabek hurried to say: "I am still interested."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then the man spoke again. "You are?", he asked surprised.

"Yes", Otabek answered. "I am aware of the description of the car's condition and I am willing to purchase it in case it is still available."

From the receiver an "Oh" could be heard.

"I would like to inspect the car before I make my final decision as I am sure you'll understand. If I find the car in the condition you stated in the advertisement I am willing to pay you on the spot and in cash without further ado."

"Of course", the man said, still sounding perplex. "I can give you the address and you can come and see the car if you like. Right now if you like."

Otabek checked his wristwatch. It was shortly before noon, and Yuri hadn't contacted him about the performance he was going to attend later today, so Otabek still had time to arrange things concerning the car. "Tell me the address", he said and when the man did so he typed in the location into his phone. The address was in the outskirts of Moscow, not too far from where the old apartment of Yuri's grandfather was. He could be there in half an hour, but he still needed to go get some money in case he decided to buy the car right away. "If it fits your schedule I can be there in two hours", he said and the man agreed. They hung up and Otabek left the phone booth.

He went back to his small flat, changed into jeans and sweater, tousled his hair a little and took 20.000 roubles out of his suitcase. The ad had said that was the price for the car and he wasn't in a mood to bargain. He needed things solved quick and without much fuss and it wasn't like the amount of money the man had set was worth the effort. Sure, the car wasn't in the best condition, at least from what Otabek could imagine from the description, but Yuri wouldn't have to use it for a long distance. He would survive the 10 minute drive from his place to Otabek's even without the heating functioning properly. The idea that Yuri would complain about the inconvenience without a doubt made him smile.

He parked the bike in a car park halfway to the address the man had told him, then called a taxi. He didn't want to take chances and have the man see his motorcycle, just in case. When the taxi arrived 4 minutes before the time they had agreed upon, Otabek checked that his sleeve didn't accidentally show his tattoo, paid the driver and got off the taxi with a bright smile.

The man was waiting for him in a pound next to a house that looked almost as old as the man himself. There were a few cars parked there in different states of corrosion, the dark blue VW Golf 3 looking good compared to the two Ladas and a Ford that didn't even look driveable.

"You see,", the man said, once more without a greeting, heading over to the car, "it's exactly like in the description, right?" He coughed. "It's the last of the cars I sell, the ones over there are junk. My son left the country and I can not afford the house and the business by myself, so I have to sell everything." He started circling the car, Otabek in tow. "It's not new, but it's reliable enough. The edges are rusty, that's how it is with the production line in Mexico, and the Moscow streets aren't nice for delicate cars. Here", he gestured to the gas tank cover that was dark red instead of dark blue. "I had to replace it, because the hinges had rusted off. The tank was rusty as well, I had it replaced. I thought that I wouldn't have a problem selling a solid, reliable car like this one, but apparently people like those new fancy things better that break in halves if you close the door a little too sudden. It has servo steering, works perfectly well. The heating sometimes doesn't work, I wrote that in the paper already. Here,", they had arrived at the passenger side, "the lock doesn't work, you have to unlock it from the inside, the one on the driver's side works though-" He was interrupted by another cough, then continued without giving Otabek a chance to say something. "The wheels are as good as new and the brakes have only a few hundred kilometers on the counter. You can make a test drive if you want. You have to deposit the money first though, happened to me once that some thug never came back from the test drive, won't happen to me again. How about it."

"Okay", Otabek said with a shrug and a wide smile.

The man frowned. "Are you really the guy who called earlier? You don't sound like him at all."

"Ah, no", Otabek chuckled, acting as unselfconscious as he was capable of. "That was my brother in law. He asked me to come check out the car, it's for my nephew you know, he just got his license and we wanted to buy him a car that he can't damage too much for the beginning." He laughed cheerful and shrugged again.

The man suppressed a cough and nodded, then dug the key out of his pocket. Otabek did the same with the 20.000 roubles and they exchanged, the man starting to count the bills right away.

"Do you know how everything works?", he asked as Otabek got into the car and he shot him a confident smile.

"Sure, no problem. I have driven an Audi before, it's basically the same with VW, right?"

The man shrugged. "The papers are in the glove department. If you aren't back in 30 minutes I consider the thing settled, is that alright for you?" When Otabek nodded he slammed the door shut, then stepped back and watched as Otabek adjusted the seat and rear mirror. The seat was worn out, but comfortable. When Otabek turned the key the Golf came to life without much hesitation despite the temperature. He smiled to the old man but he had turned away already, counting the bills again as he marched towards the house.

Finally wiping his exhausting JJ-grin from his face Otabek drove off.

в

Finding a place to hide the car close to Yuri's house was easy enough. There was a underground car park that belonged to the bank in the same house as Yuri's apartment and that was just on the other side of the street, with multiple entries and driveways. With the pedestrian subway connecting the two sides of the street Yuri wouldn't even have to cross the street in the open.

Otabek had driven the Golf to the location where he had left the bike, then driven the bike home, then taken a bus back to the car. On his way to the bank's car park he stopped at a DIY shop and bought a spray can of dark blue paint, repainting the tank lid right there in the parking lot of the shop so the car would be less easy to recognize. He also bought a steering wheel cover made of dark gray sheep wool so that Yuri's hands wouldn't be too cold if the heating didn't work.

He parked the car and returned to his flat with a taxi.

It was almost 4 when his phone rang.

"I need you to pick me up at my place 5 on the dot", Yuri said, his voice strident. He must be in company if he didn't even say hello. "Not a minute later."

"Affirmative", Otabek said. "Shall I wait with the car or come upstairs to pick you up?"

Yuri sighed dramatically. "Downstairs of course. If I wanted you to get on my nerves I would have told you right away, jerk." He hung up immediately.

Otabek sighed. It didn't exactly hurt to have Yuri talk to him like that. He was supposed to do that. It was good that he did that. But it left a bitter taste on Otabek's tongue.

He rose his hand and placed it on his chest. The band aid with the cats on it still was there, wrapped around his ring finger. He could feel the edge of the warm bronze pendant pressing against his skin. It was calming, the tension in his shoulders and heart disappearing immediately. He knew Yuri loved him. He would never forget it. He would never doubt it.