Yuri on Ice, Slow to Start

Title: Slow to Start [Yuri/Otabek]
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: While Otabek found many of Phichit’s life choices on the internet to be questionable, he had to admit that in this instance his advice seemed entirely sound
AN: Written for shiritori.

Slow to Start

“Make him wait tonight,” Phichit advised.

Otabek paused in the middle of doing up his tie to look over his shoulder. Phichit was half-dressed, shirt on but unbuttoned, sprawled across his futon on his stomach, seemingly absorbed in his phone. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Phichit chuckled at something on his phone, thumbs typing a quick reply. He flicked his gaze up just long enough to catch Otabek looking. “Don’t play dumb, Altin.”

“I couldn’t possibly.” Otabek went back to his tie. Yutopia Katsuki was packed full for the wedding, which was how Otabek had come to be sharing a room with both Yuri and Phichit. Yuri was out helping Yuko and Minako plan Yuuri’s tamer half of the two bachelor parties, but he’d no doubt put in an appearance at Victor’s eventually, enough though he was still too young to drink.

“I’m trying to help you out,” Phichit said, entirely reasonable. “I’ve been watching your little dance in close quarters for a couple days now. And it’s cute, but quite circular, don’t you think? Far be it from me to judge.”

“I’m sure.”

“I just think with the right nudge you two could take your game to the next level. Stop skating in junior division? Put on your game face, my friend!”

Otabek turned to face Phichit fully, giving in to the conversation since Phichit seemed so determined to have it. “And if I’m not only playing? Does your advice still stand?”

“Excellent,” Phichit murmured, sitting up to face Otabek with a broad grin. “All the more reason to occupy a strong starting position. Not even Ice Prince Plisetsky can resist wedding magic.”

While Otabek found many of Phichit’s life choices on the internet to be questionable, he had to admit that in this instance his advice seemed entirely sound. Once Yuri had strolled into the party, Otabek made himself elusive. It was almost too easy to keep the room in between them, to find someone else to talk to. A few times he caught Yuri’s irritated gaze across the room, but he only offered Yuri a half-smile, disappearing before Yuri could push his way through the other party-goers.

“YOU,” Yuri snarled when he finally managed to catch Otabek, dragging him away from an amused Christophe. His eyes flashed angrily. “What’s your deal? I’ve been trying to get your attention all night!”

“Have you?” Otabek asked innocently. It was hard not to laugh when Yuri’s irritated scowl doubled in intensity. “Well, you have it now.”

“GOOD,” Yuri snapped. He seemed to get stuck there, crossing his arms to keep from fidgeting.

“Now that you have me,” Otabek prompted, taking pity, “is there something you want?”

“N-no, I just…” Yuri stuttered as Otabek leaned in a litle closer. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s just dance or whatever.”

“Of course.” Otabek let Yuri drag him along, flashing Phichit and Christophe a sharp grin on the way by.

“What on earth?” Christophe asked, amused.

“Get it, Altin!” Phichit whooped, snapping a shot of them just as Otabek’s hands closed tight on Yuri’s waist. “Perfect, aren’t they? Just a little slow to start.”

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