The bed in the hotel room is a plush, queen-sized deal with tasteful sea foam green bedding, and Yuri is horrified.
"Those morons who made the reservation must have messed it up, fuck," he says, dropping the handle of his suitcase so that it hits the carpeted floor with a dull thud and sitting heavily on the offending bed to call reception. He's slamming the phone back on the hook in frustration mere minutes later.
"They can move us tomorrow, but they're fully booked tonight," he grouses.
Otabek just gives him a thumbs up from the bathroom, where he's already brushing his teeth. He doesn't seem particularly bothered by this turn of events, which makes Yuri even more bothered by it than he already is. Otabek isn't one to get angry unless it's a world-ending catastrophe, but to not be annoyed at all? Fuck, what if he thinks that Yuri was the one who messed this up, or worse, that he orchestrated it on purpose?
He doesn't notice that he's glaring down at the bedspread with clenched fists like it just insulted his fashion sense until Otabek flips the covers from the other side of the bed so that he can get into it.
"It's a big bed, Yura," he says with a shrug. And then the corner of his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit. "Or do you kick in your sleep? In that case you can sleep on the floor."
"Asshole!" Yuri lets out a surprised laugh and throws a pillow at him. With the tension broken, he changes, gets into the other side of the bed and switches off the light.
But laying there in the dark, listening to Otabek's steady breathing next to him, he can't sleep.
He's crowded onto the edge of the bed as far away from Otabek as is comfortable, but Otabek's presence still weighs heavy on him, every one of his movements impossible to ignore.
Yuri is considering giving up on sleep for the moment and digging out his phone for something to do as a distraction, but then Otabek sighs, reaches out, and pulls Yuri across the short distance between them.
Yuri makes an indignant noise as Otabek curls into him, resting his head on his chest and casually slinging an arm over him like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's about to protest, but then Otabek cracks open a single, sleepy eye to look at him.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says with a yawn, referring, Yuri assumes, to how he'd decided to act on this unspoken thing between them out of the blue by fucking cuddling with him. "Now let's just go to sleep."
Yuri kind of wants to kick him, both because of how presumptuous he's being, but also to take out his irritation at how easy of a read Yuri himself must have been. He compromises by curling his fingers in Otabek's hair a little tighter than necessary when he runs his hands through it, carding through the strands and stroking over the soft bristle of his undercut like he'd wanted to for a long time.
"Okay, fine. Let's sleep," he says. They both drift off in a matter of minutes.
YOI: otayuri, sharing a bed
"Those morons who made the reservation must have messed it up, fuck," he says, dropping the handle of his suitcase so that it hits the carpeted floor with a dull thud and sitting heavily on the offending bed to call reception. He's slamming the phone back on the hook in frustration mere minutes later.
"They can move us tomorrow, but they're fully booked tonight," he grouses.
Otabek just gives him a thumbs up from the bathroom, where he's already brushing his teeth. He doesn't seem particularly bothered by this turn of events, which makes Yuri even more bothered by it than he already is. Otabek isn't one to get angry unless it's a world-ending catastrophe, but to not be annoyed at all? Fuck, what if he thinks that Yuri was the one who messed this up, or worse, that he orchestrated it on purpose?
He doesn't notice that he's glaring down at the bedspread with clenched fists like it just insulted his fashion sense until Otabek flips the covers from the other side of the bed so that he can get into it.
"It's a big bed, Yura," he says with a shrug. And then the corner of his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit. "Or do you kick in your sleep? In that case you can sleep on the floor."
"Asshole!" Yuri lets out a surprised laugh and throws a pillow at him. With the tension broken, he changes, gets into the other side of the bed and switches off the light.
But laying there in the dark, listening to Otabek's steady breathing next to him, he can't sleep.
He's crowded onto the edge of the bed as far away from Otabek as is comfortable, but Otabek's presence still weighs heavy on him, every one of his movements impossible to ignore.
Yuri is considering giving up on sleep for the moment and digging out his phone for something to do as a distraction, but then Otabek sighs, reaches out, and pulls Yuri across the short distance between them.
Yuri makes an indignant noise as Otabek curls into him, resting his head on his chest and casually slinging an arm over him like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's about to protest, but then Otabek cracks open a single, sleepy eye to look at him.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says with a yawn, referring, Yuri assumes, to how he'd decided to act on this unspoken thing between them out of the blue by fucking cuddling with him. "Now let's just go to sleep."
Yuri kind of wants to kick him, both because of how presumptuous he's being, but also to take out his irritation at how easy of a read Yuri himself must have been. He compromises by curling his fingers in Otabek's hair a little tighter than necessary when he runs his hands through it, carding through the strands and stroking over the soft bristle of his undercut like he'd wanted to for a long time.
"Okay, fine. Let's sleep," he says. They both drift off in a matter of minutes.