Third fic for a Pride Month prompt challenge from tumblr. Prompt: first date.

When Yuri gets the text to tell him that Otabek is outside, he feels a giddy leap behind his navel. He has no idea where they're going, only that Otabek told him to wear something relatively comfortable. He's done his best: a hoodie and skinny jeans, and he wanted to wear something smarter but he gets the feeling that Otabek isn't taking him anywhere fancy – not today at least.

He leaves the hotel room, locking the door behind him and practically running to the lifts. Surveying himself in the mirror on the way down, he smooths his hair and tries not to look too excited. Sure, it's the first time they've been able to go out together without fear of interruption from anyone they know (and oh how he's waited for this opportunity) but there's still a desperate drop in his stomach that reminds him that Otabek is the single coolest person Yuri has ever known. So he breathes slow, tries to slow his racing pulse, to mute his smile a little to not seem goofy.

Outside, the slight drizzle in the air does nothing to dampen his spirits as his eyes meet Otabek's across the forecourt. It's almost infuriating how effortlessly badass Otabek looks astride his motorbike: Yuri's breath catches in his throat a little and he frowns, swallowing down the feeling. He can't let Otabek see this, not yet. He saunters over (don't run, don't be weird) and greets Otabek with a smirk as the latter hands him a helmet.

"Hey," Otabek says, a small smile on his lips. "You look nice."

Yuri tries not to flush – god, don't be such a loser! – and nods, pulling on the helmet. "Thanks, you too."

"You excited?" asks Otabek as Yuri clambers onto the back of the bike.

Yuri scoffs. "Well I have no idea where we're going," he explains. "So I don't have a lot to go on to get excited over."

It's a lie: he has plenty to get excited over. The idea of an afternoon alone with Otabek has made his stomach do somersaults ever since they arranged this three days ago, and he's glad it's the off season because he knows Yakov would notice the change in his demeanour if he was at training. Yuri's been playing ideas and scenarios in his head on a near-constant loop, imagining situations, rehearsing conversations, trying to get himself into a state of mind where he won't get caught out and surprised by Otabek. Unfortunately, without any idea of where they're going, and Otabek keeping quiet on the issue, said rehearsals haven't been particularly concrete.

The bike roars to life under them and they race away from the hotel, through the streets, turning corners, pausing occasionally at red lights and intersections. Eventually they draw to a stop on a little side street and Otabek cuts the engine.

"We're here," he announces, and Yuri pulls off his helmet, shaking his hair out before looking up at the shop they pulled up in front of.

"Err..." Don't look disappointed, don't look disappointed. "It looks... nice?"

The facade of the art gallery is drab and grey, and the window display shows a bunch of country landscapes. Otabek laughs, taking off his own helmet, and the sound makes Yuri's heart skip. "Other side of the street, Yura."

"Could have fucking told me," mutters Yuri, turning his head to see what Otabek is talking about. He stops short, mouth dropping open.

"That more like it?" asks Otabek.

"A cat café?!" Yuri can hear the thrilled wobble in his own voice but does nothing to disguise it – he's too full of butterflies.

"Yeah," says Otabek, and there's a bashful little colour in his face too as he climbs off his motorbike. "I booked it a few weeks back."

Yuri's gaze goes from the café to Otabek, a huge grin splitting his face. Without even thinking, Yuri grabs Otabek's forearms and pulls him down into a kiss. When they come apart, he goes right back to grinning. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."