bringbackgold: (Default)
otabek altin. ([personal profile] bringbackgold) wrote2017-02-22 07:53 pm
tigerprint: (☆ calm the fuck down.)

[personal profile] tigerprint 2017-04-03 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)

Yuri just runs a hand through his hair and closes the door behind Otabek.

"It's okay, it'll just take a minute," he replies, ushering his guest over to the couch. His open-plan kitchen and living room is probably the tidiest part of his flat and it's still a tip: tattoo and motorbike magazines litter the coffee table, cups of half-finished tea dot the available surfaces, and there's a pile of clean laundry sliding off the far end of the sofa.

Anya slips past Yuri as he hurries back into his room to finish dressing. She's clearly intrigued by (yet deeply suspicious of) the new smell in the apartment; the television is used as a spring-board to the top of Yuri's bookshelf, and she makes herself comfortable as she stares down at Otabek. If he isn't good enough for her human, Anya will know.

Meanwhile, Yuri is throwing on his cropped biker jacket and selecting a purse. He opts to stick with the theme and selects his black bag with the faux-rhinestone tiger head; he throws in his wallet, phone, makeup, I.D., and a couple of pre-lubed condoms for good measure. There's already a tiny bottle of lube in his make-up bag, because ... Well, yeah. Yuri has enjoyed being sexually active since he was fifteen or so, and since then he's learned to make sure that he's always prepared. Just in case.

When he returns to the living room he's already rummaging for his keys, which he extracts from his bag around the crook of his finger before flashing a little smirk at Otabek.

"Ready." He gives his date a twirl. "Do I look okay? If it's supposed to be a fancy dinner I can put on something nicer."

tigerprint: (☆ what's this is it for my face?)

[personal profile] tigerprint 2017-04-30 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)

His ears burn pink at Otabek's praise. For some time now, Yuri's been hoping that Otabek always thinks he looks great, to the point where he's even switched up some of his outfits that he wears at work in the hops of catching his eye. Now that he isn't nearly naked and hanging off a pole, however, he has more opportunity to show off his personality, and can't help but hope that Otabek likes that part of him too. He knows he can be ... Well. An acquired taste, Chris might say.

Yuri ushers Otabek towards the door after blowing a kiss to Anya, and links his arm through the other man's elbow as they head down to the street. It's fucking cold out and for a moment he regrets not dressing for the weather; it might take a couple of shots of vodka to get him feeling warmed through again.

No - idiot! Don't be a drunk slutty mess for once, okay? Beka is fucking quality.

He chides himself, then accepts the helmet when Otabek passes the spare to him. He's a little miffed that he's going to end up with helmet hair, to be sure, but he supposes that even if he didn't wear it the wind would blow it all over the fucking place anyway. Anyway, he can shake it out when they reach the restaurant.

"No booze for you tonight, then?" Yuri settles behind him, and allows himself the pink-cheeked indulgence of wrapping his arms tight around his waist. "If you crash and ruin my face I'll fucking kill you, okay?"