Lilia had nothing against the theme, as he suggested it to her during the evening tea. "What secret?" she only asked, although the tone of her voice clearly indicated she knew Yuri wouldn't tell her.

"A secret is a secret," he answered with a shrug, but then something urged him to add, "But it's a good secret," and saying it, he realised it really was so.

Lilia stared at him intently for a longer while. Then, in a voice that only someone very sensitive could hear curiosity in, she asked, "Like... first love?"

Never before Yuri had been so proud of himself as he was now, returning her gaze without as much as blinking. "You're free to imagine whatever you want," he replied in the most boring voice he managed to muster and then leaned over the list of the elements for his new routine.

"I don't want to imagine. I'd rather... know. In order to create you the best programme," she explained.

He glanced at her from behind the fringe; he'd long since learned to bear her gaze. "I think... it's okay to have some love there," he said reluctantly, hoping that the tone of his voice would be mistaken for his disgust with the topic itself. "But I'm sure the choreography will make a bigger impact if you don't know too much. It's a secret," he reminded her. "Let me deal with the execution myself," he added.

She nodded slowly, sipping her tea. "Makes sense," she agreed with him, which happened more and more often as he grew older. She put the cup down on the saucer. "Fine, I'll make you such a programme that the audience will rack their brains, trying to find out your secret," she declared, and he believed her. "Do not dare to ruin it with a lousy interpretation," she warned.

"Have I ever wasted your work?" he asked, although he knew the answer.

Lilia spent another moment scrutinising him, and then a slight smile stretched her lips. "One more question, though. Would you skate it in a male or female convention?"

Now Yuri did blush. "Male!" he snapped at her. He was one hundred percent sure he would never skate as a girl again, like he had done in his first two seasons in adult division.

Lilia nodded. "I hope she is worth it," she said, and something flashed menacingly in her eyes.

Yuri blinked... and then realised Lilia had probably taken the bait. Or maybe she only pretended to, he couldn't put it past her.. Since the day they had met, they would always try to trick one another. In any case, he would be damned if he gave himself away before Lilia...! And just as he thought it, he realised that if he managed to trick her, then he would probably manage to trick everyone else.

He decided to strike the iron while hot. "I'm going to have more sessions with the group from now on," he said casually. Let Lilia wonder which girl training under Yakov's guidance had turned his head... even though he found such a vision pretty revolting. "I must finally learn to cleanly land that quad Lutz... Actually, I must learn to land it in the first place," he added mockingly; well, that was true. "How much time do you need?"

She kept staring at him with that intent gaze of her while drinking tea. She didn't rush her answer, and he patiently waited. He realised it was only here that he managed to calm down after that unrest of a few last hours. It made sense; skating was like his other skin. It was something so close that it was almost himself. It covered him like a blanket, sometimes even gave him a shape. It made him feel safe. As long as he had his skates... as long as he could concentrate on skating, he would manage. He would copy with absolutely everything, he couldn't doubt it.

"I'm positive I'll be able to present the majority of the routine, if not all of it, on Sunday," Lilia's voice broke his reverie.

He focused his eyes on her and then nodded with appreciation. She really was the best. He was perfectly sure she would create him a routine that would enchant not only the audience, but him too, in the first place. He never ceased being amazed by her talent, by her skills, by her ability to see dance on some other plane than most people did, which enabled her to create masterpiece, one after another.

"In that case, I'll be mostly in Yakov's place," he said and rose from the couch.

"Yuri...?"

He turned around. Lilia was staring at him, and there was some hesitation in her eyes now - so unlike her.

"What?"

"If you need some advice... or just want to talk about it, I'll listen to you. I may not look it, but once I was in love, too," she said with some dignity.

Yuri felt his face turn red. "Never!" he cried and head for the door.

"Yes, yes... But in case you need, you know where to find me," she added, clearly ignoring his agitation.

He managed not to slam the door, but his calm was gone. Honestly, Lilia couldn't imagine he would talk with her about that? Never, it was totally out of question...! He would be wrong in his head if he wanted to confide in her. She was the last person he could turn to...!

Back in his room, he flung himself on the bed and lay down for a while, his face in the pillow, trying to regain his composure. Impossible. He rolled over on his back and tousled his hair, suppressing the urge to shout. It took him a moment to realise it was not Lilia's offer that annoyed him the most - actually, that he even appreciated - but her commentary to the whole situation.

'Once I was in love, too.'

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, before biting his lips. His heart was racing like mad, and suddenly he felt bad. Until now, he'd tried not to think about it - he'd tried to keep away that thought, that possibility, for it was the very worst option - but now that Lilia had said it, he could no longer ignore it.

Was he in love with Otabek?

He covered his face with both hands and then shoved his fists into his eye-sockets. Suddenly, he wished the whole world vanished... the world that was this very moment collapsing right onto his head. Absurdly, he thought that if it was only about sex, all that would be much easier. If it was only about Otabek arousing him, he would certainly cope with it. If it was only about the physiological reaction, he would hope that it simply went away; he'd only had to clench his teeth and wait.

But if there was more to it... then it really called into question their whole friendship, and Yuri felt very cold upon the thought. If he was certain of anything - well, except his desire to win everything one might win in the figure skating - it was that he couldn't imagine living his life without Otabek. He and Otabek were one, and Yuri had thought - probably foolishly - that they would always be. After all, they were best friends and had a hell of fun together, every day. The idea it could end - for any reason - wouldn't even occur to him.

But if it was... love in question, then Yuri was strangely convinced that it was too serious matter to just wait it out. His previous determination vanished, and he was no longer sure he would cope with the situation, which made him feel even worse. Maybe... maybe he really should ask someone? Other people must have had more experience with such things. Maybe they could tell him what was being in love? Ignoring the thought how absurd all that was - Yuri Plisetsky asking around, oh, they wouldn't leave him be - he took his phone and browsed through his contacts.

Mila had a new boyfriend every two week, on average. And she cried over every parting like it was her only love in question. Yuri doubted she was the best source of knowledge. Objectively speaking, it seemed to him that what Mila considered love was actually something else... above all her desire to have a boyfriend. Of course, he would never tell her that; he didn't feel like bringing some permanent bodily damage upon himself.

Katsudon must have known all about love; after all, he'd been bearing with someone like Victor Nikiforov for a few years already and still looked like the world greatest treasure had been bestowed upon him. But he'd once, drunken, confessed to Yuri that he hadn't figured out his feelings, even having spent months with Victor and even unconsciously proposing to him. He hadn't noticed he was in love? Could anyone be such a loser?

Otabek...

He threw the phone aside and put the pillow onto his face, feeling like the most wretched person in the world. It wasn't nice and annoyed him more than anything. He didn't like this state. Yuri Plisetsky wasn't someone who used to plunge into self-pity and depression. No, he was someone who always searched for a solution, a way out of dire straits. Someone who fought and won. He was a soldier, like Otabek had once said...

Fuck.

He rolled over to his side. He couldn't think of anything else; his all thought revolved around Otabek. Was it love? He clenched his teeth... The only person he'd loved so far was Grandpa. Sure, being in love was something else... but he attempted to understand his feelings, so he tried to compare them. Grandpa meant mutual devotion, support and readiness to help. Trust, feeling he could always count on and never be let down. Security. Above all, so much warmth and joy to be together. Lots of happiness. Only positive things, even if they didn't always agree or had different opinions. Differences simply made them different people, not divided them. Even though they were different people, they felt great together. When Yuri was with Grandpa, he felt it was his place. He was being accepted, he was a part of, he belonged to.

Fine, but Grandpa was his family. How it was with Otabek, then... He felt hot on his face, and his heart started to pound in his chest again. He pulled his arms and legs to his chest and tried to ignore those physical sensations. Potya jumped onto the bed and curled himself behind his back. Yuri sensed the cat's warmth and even those slight quivers of purring. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Presence of the cat helped a bit, but his heart kept beating like mad. Otabek... He felt good with Otabek, too. He felt safe, too. He felt sure, too. He could always count on him, and he could always expect his support. He trusted. He had fun. He was happy. And he wanted it to be so for the rest of his life.

He groaned. He could see no difference. Otabek was as important to him as Grandpa... and he would stay crushed under the weight of that realisation, before urging his mind to operate. How it was with other people? Did he feel the same about them? He would cogitate on it, before reaching the conclusion he didn't. Mila was a good friend. Those girls he'd once slept with... No, he shouldn't even consider them. Lilia... He hesitated. Lilia was like a mother - demanding, but wise and fair mother. He was attached to her and trusted her, but it wasn't the relationship that made all borders and barriers disappear. He wasn't Lilia's part the way he was Grandpa's and Otabek's.

He took his phone again and, feeling like a prized fool, started to google the symptoms of being in love. Finally, red as a beetroot, he threw the phone away and once more covered his face with the pillow.

Why did it happen to him? he asked himself for the hundredth time this day. And why today? He had no answer, and he knew he wouldn't have. After another fifteen minutes of unproductive self-pity, he forced himself to return to the starting point. What should he do about it? Giving in to this... to those emotions that turned his brain - no, his very personality - into boiled noodles was not an option. As far as he was concerned, he knew he would be able to wear a mask, and outside this room no-one would figure him out.

No-one... Was it really so? He could deceive anyone, even Lilia, but would he be able to keep this poker face with Otabek? After all, today he'd had to run away from him. Well, but today, he told himself right away, today he'd been surprised. It was just an instinctive action, he couldn't have planned it, he couldn't have prepared himself. While tomorrow...

He felt dizzy again. He'd gladly pull the blanket over his head and stay under it for at least one week, even though it would be the greatest cowardice in the world. At the same time... The thought he would see Otabek tomorrow filled his chest with some sweet warmth. It no longer mattered if he could deceive Otabek... Actually, he felt some delight at the possibility of Otabek noticing... understanding... He trembled.

And even though it was absolutely unacceptable, his mind went in the direction it couldn't be turned back. The training session tomorrow... The two of them in the same rink... Practising not alone, but together... He could perfectly well visualise Otabek stretching his hand to him and himself taking it... and since that moment the ice belonged only to them. He'd always - nine times out of ten - regarded Katsudon and Victor's 'pair skating' with complete disgust, but now he thought that maybe it wasn't that bad... Now he felt that if he had a possibility to skate together with Otabek, it would be like a dream becoming true.

Although he normally didn't spare them any thought, he realised now he remembered all those times Katsudon and Victor had performed in exhibitions. He remembered how they'd moved, how they'd stared at each other, how they'd touched one another... He moaned. He knew he should stop, but he just couldn't. If Otabek stared at him like that... with those intent eyes that wouldn't miss a thing... If he had stared like that, as if there was nothing else in the world but Yuri... then the ice beneath them would probably melt down. And if Otabek touched his face, in a feeling gesture, but so tender... Or if he pulled him together, just for a moment, only to release him and move on, but they would still hold hands... Then, undoubtedly, it would be Yuri to melt down.

He was fully aware it was only his own illusions, but he couldn't contain himself. He started to imagine Otabek's face, so close, closer than ever. Dark eyes, always focused and never revealing emotions. Broad forehead and straight eyebrows, often frowned with cogitation, but never with dislike. Slightly outlined cheekbones and a strong jaw with a firm chin. Lightly tip-tilted nose that fitted him perfectly. Lips - so wonderfully shaped and indicating determination. It was a very manly face, and very beautiful, in a way... at least in Yuri's current state. He wished he could run his finger over those eyebrows and those cheeks, over that nose and those lips... and Otabek would never take his eyes off him...

He bit his lips and pressed his eyelids shut. He could barely remember where he was, for it seemed he was in another dimension that belonged only to the two of them. He wouldn't be able to stop this vision even if his life depended on it.

So when he'd already get to know Otabek's face like he hadn't known until now, his hands would move down, on the neck and collarbones, on shoulders and arms... Otabek had a splendid body, with great strength in it. Although Yuri was taller, he was under the impression Otabek could crush him without trouble. Now he imagined those strong arms encircling him, holding him in an embrace he would never be able to get out of. He imagined how Otabek's muscles moved under the skin of his arms, chest and legs... For last two years and a half, he'd had all too much occasions to stare at Otabek's figure - both on and off ice - and it now seemed perfect to him. No, Otabek had nothing to be ashamed of; he was ideally proportional, and nature couldn't really have been more generous. If he had a chance, Yuri would like to explore every fragment and make it his. He would like to touch everything, taste everything, feel everything... He would like to merge into one with Otabek.

He was shivering all over and felt terribly hot. His breath was breaking, and his heart was racing as if it was his most difficult skating programme ever. His head was humming with the rush of blood. He was so aroused it hurt. His hands, as if they had life on their own, slipped into his pants to put out that fire that burned in him up to the very ends of his nerves. He stroke himself, imagining someone else's hands providing him with that pleasure - and much more. He clenched his teeth to contain his scream in ecstasy, or its poor substitute, that came all to soon. He curled on the bed, panting... and knowing it wouldn't help him for long, but at least now. Potya was still purring behind his back, but it was not his presence Yuri yearned...

He would lay for a longer while with his eyes closed, too exhausted to feel anything. The realisation he'd first become aroused by and then come with a thought of another man wasn't as mortifying as it might be. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that man was none other than Otabek Altin.