“Tonight we are doing something bad.”
Otabek had just settled into his bed with a nice crossword puzzle when his door banged open.
Yuri came charging in wearing his rattiest black sweatpants and a leopard print thermal top and set something down on the floor before throwing himself in a graceful heap at the foot of Otabek’s bed.
He was pleasantly surprised, when he didn’t see Yuri in the locker room earlier, Otabek assumed he would be practicing late and he wouldn’t see him tonight. The crossword was immediately set aside as he turned to Yuri with a faint smile and a sardonically raised eyebrow.
“Something like lube all of the handles in JJ’s room bad or like get wasted and trash a nightclub bathroom bad?”
Yuri dismissed the question with a decisive shake of his head, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Neither. Nightclubs are full of grossness and people and gross people. What kind of misanthrope do you take me for, Altin? But remind me about the JJ thing later, that’s good.” He paused a moment looking thoughtful like he was taking mental notes. “We’ve been practicing our asses off and following our training regimens and I haven’t even had goulash this week and it’s the first Prague Skate in like ten years so we’re having these.”
He reached over to the retrieve the box from the floor, plunking it down between them and throwing it open with a flourish.
“What are those?” Otabek peered down at what looked like twin lumps of whipped cream masquerading as baked goods.
Yuri rolled his eyes and nudged the box closer. “Heaven. Just put one in your face.
They looked like cream puffs, more or less. Flaky pastry split to sandwich cream filling. Except there seemed to be a light cream and a golden one as well. The top was glazed with something too and speckled with vanilla beans.
He picked one up gingerly, resigning himself to sticky fingers. It was surprisingly heavy. Doing his best to ignore Yuri’s happy expectance - really if he had a tail it would have been twitching - and took a bite, bracing himself for sugar shock.
What he got instead was beautiful, tender pastry layers and cream that was smooth and flavorful. The vanilla and caramel creams were rich but not sugary and the glaze on top should have been illegal.
He met Yuri’s triumphant gaze with wide eyes. “Oh my god.”
“Right? Right?! And the French think they’re so great. I think the Czechs have been keeping this secret on purpose.”
“Can we blame them?”
Yuri’s unimpressed stare indicated that yes, he absolutely could. But after a moment he dived forward to pull his own out of the box.
“They’re called vetrnik,” he said through a mouthful of pastry.
Otabek turned back to his own dessert before he got caught watching Yuri lick cream off of his fingers like a creeper. He knew he should slow down and savor it but what had previously seemed like a massive pastry had disappeared remarkably quickly.
“Ha! I should put that on Instagram - inform all of your fans that the studious, straight-laced Otabek Altin has a massive sweet tooth.”
“It’s really only when you’re around,” Otabek assured Yuri before leaning forward to thumb the stray smear of whipped cream off his lip and steal a caramel kiss.
Yuri kissed back enthusiastically, practically purring under the influence of sugar and affection. “Do well in your short program tomorrow and there’s plenty more where those came from.”
“The kisses or the vetrnik?”
“Both if the Czechs cooperate.”
Otabek growled playfully, “I’d better not find out that you’ve been letting the Czechs hoard your kisses. I’ll go right down to the rink and punch Nikola in the face.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Yuri insisted smugly.
“You’re right. But I’d think about it. A lot.”
“Don’t worry,”Yuri assured him, nudging the box out of the way and arranging himself on Otabek’s lap. “You’re the only one I would bring vetrnik to. You know I hate sharing.”
Tag, you're it chuyeol!