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@markofapsychopath asked:

Otayuri, for sure. Prompt: Yurio tells his crush he likes them but he gets turned down. His new, or long time best friend whichever, best friend Otabek comforts and then confesses his crush for Yurio. High school or college au.

[hs au, unrequited victor/yuri, rated t for cuddles and kissing]

victor is a senior. he’s also student body president, drama club president, captain of the cheerleading squad, and valedictorian of his graduating class. he’s perfect and beautiful and everyone loves him.

but not yuri. yuri hates him.

yuri hates him because victor barely even notices him. he’s been on the cheerleading squad since he was a freshman. and now he’s the top of the pyramid, and he’s only a sophomore. he’s going places, and if victor can’t see that, he’s blind.

“are you going to eat that?” otabek asks. they’re sitting under a tree in the quad during lunch. a dozen feet away, victor is playing hacky-sack with the other yuuri. they look at each other like their stupid hearts are connected and yuri wants to set himself on fire.

“go for it,” yuri mutters. a sandwich is perched on his knee that his grandfather made for him that morning. he can feel otabek’s fingers as they brush his leg..

“you should eat something,” he says around a full bite. yuri would think he was being sarcastic if otabek were capable of sarcasm.

“i’m too filled with righteous fury to eat.”

otabek makes a mm noise. yuri’s mood swings never seem to affect him, which is how they’ve managed to stay friends this long. through everything: otabek was the first friend yuri made when his grandfather decided to uproot them to an entirely new country, and yuri in turn was there for otabek when his parents divorced. it surprised yuri as much as it did otabek, showing up at his bedroom window at three in the morning, having just received a text message: they’re splitting up. no words could do yuri’s profound and bewildering sympathy for his best friend justice, so he snuck out of his room and into otabek’s, offering comfort the only way he’d ever learned.

it’s okay, yuri had said, crawling into bed with him, even though they weren’t normally like this, having never exposed their truest selves to each other or the world. he held otabek as he cried, rubbed his back in small circles, silently. like yuri’s grandfather had held and comforted him growing up.

they never talked about that night, falling asleep clinging to one another. they just went on like two planets orbiting each other out of convenience rather than will, even though they both knew the truth.

“he’s single you know,” otabek says. yuri glances at him to find the sandwich half-eaten in his grasp, adam’s apple bobbing as he looks forlorn for some reason. “victor, i mean. you could ask him to prom or whatever.”

“why would i want to do that?”

otabek gives him a look – the kind that reminds yuri his prickly nature is useless around otabek. “because you like him.”

yuri dramatically retches, a horrific gagging noise that would be funny if otabek would ever fucking laugh.

yuri sighs. “i don’t like him.”

“sure,” otabek says with a sad nod. “just saying.”

*

now the thought has wormed its way into yuri’s head. he fantasizes about asking victor to prom – it makes so much sense, the two of them. stars of cheerleading, the most popular boys in their respective years. they’d be sure to be crowned as prom kings and each improve the others’ standing. it’d be so much better than victor taking some chubby nobody to the dance like yuuri.

they’re alone at cheerleading practice, cleaning up after everyone has gone home.

“victor,” yuri says, folding over a blue mat so that it slams dully on its other half. “i was wondering.”

“hmm?” victor asks absently. he’s looking at a clipboard barely paying attention, but yuri can’t hold it in any longer.

“would you want to go to prom with me?” there’s too much hope in his voice, he knows, but he tries to keep it at a resentful mutter so as not to mar his aesthetic.

victor’s attention snaps up. he stares at yuri for a long, agonizing moment as if he’s trying to make himself believe what he just heard. finally his expression lifts into a pleased grin and he holds up his phone, where his most recent instagram post is glaring at yuri: victor and yuuri, kissing, and the hashtag #promkings2k17!!!

yuri suddenly wants to melt into the core of the earth.

“i’m sorry, yuri,” victor says, still grinning as if he hadn’t just crushed all of yuri’s hopes and dreams. “i’m spoken for.”

*

yuri bangs his head on otabek’s kitchen counter. otabek, as usual, isn’t acknowledging the tantrum, and is instead standing in front of the stove stirring around some good-smelling food in a cast iron skillet. his mom is away on business and his dad moved out after the divorce. otabek is alone nearly all the time which is why yuri has made it a point to hang out at his house as often as possible.

otabek turns a knob on the stove and lifts the skillet over two plates. “it was worth a shot,” he says, so casually that yuri thinks he’s talking about the food and not the ruination of yuri’s entire life.

“no it wasn’t,” yuri replies through his teeth. “it was stupid. he’s a senior, of course he wouldn’t want to go with me–”

“i’m a senior too,” otabek interrupts. he slides the plate over the counter toward yuri and eats his own standing up.

yuri lifts his head and scoffs. “you wouldn’t want to go with me to prom either.” he doesn’t know what the food in front of him is, but he picks up his fork and shovels a mouthful – after otabek stole his sandwich, he’s starving.

“of course i would.”

yuri chokes on his bite.

when he manages to clear his windpipe, he asks, “what??”

otabek shrugs, like this is any old after-school conversation. he blows on a steaming chunk of potato and adds, “i don’t know, it might be fun. you, me, tuxedos–”

“you hate parties. and people. and prom itself,” is the only thing yuri can think to say.

“yeah, but…prom is important to you. so, i’d deal i guess.”

when yuri can only stare at him blankly, otabek says, “or not. whatever.”

“this is not an or-not-whatever situation!”

“it was just an idea,” otabek replies, still horribly unruffled by this plot twist. “you can say no.”

but yuri doesn’t want to say no. he should say no, because otabek is his best friend – his only friend – and they shouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. he can’t say yes, but he can’t make himself say no…

so instead he drops his fork and leaves.

*

yuri rolls over in bed, unable to sleep. three a.m. glows on his clock. the damp heat coming in from his open window tells him a storm is about to roll in. he used to hate this place so much, so far away from home, so foreign, until otabek walked into his life and made it all bearable.

he gives up and gets out of bed, shoves on a pair of pants, and climbs out his bedroom window.

otabek only lives about a mile away, and he’s been keeping his window open too, so it’s easy to find a handhold and climb in. otabek doesn’t wake, and yuri takes the opportunity to look at his sleeping form – shirtless, sheets pooled at his waist, one arm above his head and his hair mussed. his broad chest lifts with deep slow breaths.

yuri has looked at otabek like this before, longingly; thought back to the last night he had climbed through otabek’s window, the simplicity of the gesture, the ease with which yuri was able to set aside his own hesitations and console him. the raw itch of concern he didn’t know he was capable of feeling for anyone other than his grandfather.

perhaps, he thinks, gazing at otabek’s sleeping form, relationships don’t have to be anything other than the balance they’ve attained together. perhaps yuri doesn’t need victor’s social standing, or flashy instagram photos, or prom king–

“yuri?” otabek asks, voice rough with sleep as he sits up and rubs his eye. “thought you were mad at me.”

“i am,” yuri replies. he slips out of his shoes and lifts his shirt over his head before he can chicken out. then he climbs into bed beside otabek who instinctively makes room for him.

yuri thought it might be awkward, but like the last time they did this, otabek reaches out to him so easily, like any time they’re not doing this, it’s because he wants to be and has to force himself not to. yuri tucks his head under otabek’s chin and pulls him close. he can hear otabek’s heart beating at his ear, the breath in his lungs.

quietly, he asks, “do you ever think about the last time we did this?”

“i do,” otabek says. and more hesitantly: “a lot, actually.”

“me too.”

they’re silent for a long time, holding each other, breathing together. peaceful in the way that only each other’s company can provide.

“sometimes,” otabek says. he swallows thickly and continues, “the house gets so empty at night, i think about texting you and asking if you’d come over.”

“you never have,” yuri replies.

“i thought you’d freak out on me.”

yuri immediately wants to protest, but he realizes he freaked out this afternoon. instead he pushes away his pride and says, “i’m sorry.” he balls his hand into a fist. “i don’t want to go to prom with you.”

“i know.”

yuri is more nervous now than when he asked victor to prom. he can feel a tremor begin deep inside him, anticipating and wanting, unsure how to phrase it exactly, what he wants and why he wants it and–

he lifts his head and meets their lips together. otabek freezes for a moment, then all the tension floods out of him and he takes yuri by the chin, deepens the kiss with a kind of earnest desperation that yuri didn’t think him capable of. he’s so severe and stoic, it’s hard to believe such gentle passion could come out in something so simple as a kiss. he would have done it sooner, if he knew this was what it would feel like.

yuri breaks away and says, “i don’t want to go to prom at all anymore. i just want –” he kisses otabek again. “this.”

otabek smiles, which is such a rarity that it makes something in yuri’s stomach twist. he runs a hand through yuri’s hair and says, “me too.”

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