"Yuri, it can't be that bad."
Otabek was slumped on the hotel room bed in Marseille after a long day of sightseeing. He peered at Yuri, who was standing in the bathroom, glaring into the mirror as he tried to brush the tangles out of his hair.
"Beka, you took me to the beach. I didn't have a hair tie. Between the wind, the ocean, and the motorcycle ride back to the hotel, my hair is done for." Yuri threw his brush on the tile floor and stomped his foot.
In the past year, Yuri had grown another inch and grew firm muscles everywhere. He was still more petite than Otabek, but was a far cry from the delicate Russian Fairy he had been just a year before.
"You are too impatient. Here."
Otabek stood up, retrieved the brush from the floor and took Yuri's hand. Yuri rolled his eyes and followed him to the bed, sitting cross legged. Otabek climbed onto the bed and held a handful of Yuri's hair, combing out the tangles from the ends first.
"I'm so impressed with you, Yuri. You won the gold medal for the Grand Prix Finals two years in a row."
Yuri laughed. "I beat JJ. That's all that matters. Ow."
Otabek relaxed his grip on Yuri's hair. "Sorry. At least he was at the top of his game this time. You beat him for real."
Yuri turned around to frown at Otabek. "I don't care what condition he's in. I wouldn't let him win at anything, even if he's confined to a fucking wheelchair." He crossed his arms. "Plus, everyone knew I would win with Viktor finally agreeing to coach me now that Piggy's retired."
Otabek hummed in agreement, then turned Yuri's head away so he could continue brushing. "That was a short return to skating for both of them."
Yuri scoffed. "They can't keep their hands off each other long enough to train seriously anymore."
"I don't blame them. It's hard having a long distance relationship." He continued brushing Yuri's hair, taking it one section at a time.
Yuri reached behind him and squeezed Otabek's wrist. "We'll see each other more now that Yakov is your coach and we're all staying in Hasetsu."
Otabek was nervous about moving to Japan, but he was thrilled he'd get to spend more time with Yuri. He was lucky that Yakov decided to stay on as a coach for a few more years before retiring completely.
Otabek forced a smile and ran his fingers through Yuri's hair. "There are still some more tangles."
"I wasn't fucking making hyperbole about the state of my hair."
"You have such a way with words, Yura."
Otabek switched between using his fingers and the brush to finish Yuri's hair. After a few moments of silence, Yuri relaxed his shoulders and deepened his breaths. He loved playing with Yuri's hair, feeling the fine strands between his fingers. Yuri's hair was always incredibly soft, and he kept it just past his shoulders, which made it long enough to twirl and tug.
Finally, Otabek ran his brush through every part of Yuri's hair, feeling the satisfaction that the brush slid through without catching on any tangles.
He went to put the brush away, but Yuri pulled Otabek back to the bed. "Stay."
Yuri's hands plucked the brush away from Otabek and instead interlaced their fingers. Yuri turned around to face Otabek and they locked eyes for a moment before closing them and falling into a familiar kiss.
Otabek loved this soft side of Yuri. Hell, he loved the crass and loud side too, but very few were privy to just how sweet Yuri truly was.
Yuri climbed into Otabek's lap and sat on his knees, wrapping his arms around him and deepened the kiss. Otabek moaned into Yuri's mouth, kissing back as good as he got. They had been careful not to get too wrapped up in each other during the Grand Prix Final, choosing instead to stay focused on the competition.
He fell backward, head hitting the pillow. They broke their kiss and Otabek looked up at Yuri with a smile. He pushed a lock of blond hair behind Yuri's ear and cupped his cheek with his hand.
"What do you want to do?"
Otabek let his hand trace a line down Yuri's neck and chest. "I think we can make that happen."
The hairbrush lay forgotten on the side of the bed.