A/N: I'm really fucking stupid, because I swore that I had posted the epilogue to this... but apparently I only did to Ao3. My apologies. With this chapter, marks the end of Magnetic. I set out about with this idea, purely because I wanted to write kind of a short story. I'm quite thankful to any and everyone who'd read this, and I really hope that y'all enjoyed it. I will always have a soft spot for this one because, well, it's the first fanfiction I've ever written, that I've actually finished.

Permeance

Permeance is the measure of the ability of a material, to support the formation of a magnetic field. It is directly affected by how strong the magnetic pull is.

1

Otabek's parents weren't surprised.

In fact, no one was, but that didn't really matter, because the only people that Yuri needed to be accepted by were his eventual-future-in-laws. He and Otabek hadn't talked about that yet, but damned he'd be, if he didn't put a ring on it.

Yuri had never visited Almaty- Otabek had always come to Moscow- so he didn't know really what to expect. The city was a thriving center of culture, and Yuri was blinded by how… modern it was. He wasn't sure what he expected, really, but it wasn't this.

The family home, however, was further out, closer to the countryside. Beka's family was wealthy and it showed, and not for the first time, Yuri felt incredibly inadequate.

Otabek had warned them. Yuri remembered his side of the phone call, the night after he'd shown up on his doorstep. He remembered the harsh whispering in Kazakh, punctuated by on occasional curse in Russian and Otabek's pleading tone. It wasn't often that he sounded desperate, but Yuri wondered if he was worth the risk of potentially losing his family.

Yuri wasn't stupid, he knew that he wasn't what they expected of their son. He wasn't a devout Muslim, he wasn't a successful business man, he couldn't give Otabek children. Thank fuck that Otabek didn't give a shit about any of that.

Otabek's mother was the easiest of the two to please. Yuri had loved her dearly when he was young, and she had always accepted him with open arms. She had known that his mother was dead to him, and she had always promised to love him as her own.

He hadn't seen her since he was fourteen, he realized as they stood on the porch of their home. She looked older, lines wrinkling the skin around her eyes and mouth attractively. She there, pensive almost, like she was unsure what to do. Especially when her eyes fell onto Beka's hand, pressed gently against Yuri's back.

But Yuri demanded to hug her, and she complied, tugging him tightly to her. "Look at you," she said in accented Russian, pulling back to look at him properly. He towered over her now, no longer this thin and gangly teenager who tripped over his own limbs. And her smile was warm with love, if still hesitant.

Otabek came up behind him, slipping an arm around Yuri's shoulder. His mother's grin faltered the slightest bit, and she must have seen Yuri's do the same, because the next thing she did was reach out to grasp his hand gently.

"It will take time," she said, "to get used to this. But that is all."

Otabek's father was the tough nut to crack.

Yuri wasn't ever sure that the man liked him, even as a kid, but he was positive he hated him now. Because if looks could kill, this man would have murdered him thrice over, he was sure.

Yuri reached out to shake his hand, and Otabek's father refused, his eyes narrowed in what looked like offense. Yuri expected it though. What he didn't expect, was the heated gaze of the man's wife.

"Sabir!" she chastised, reaching out to swat him.

"Aidana-" he hissed back, turning to her, but stopped dead the moment that her glare narrowed into a silent challenge. Yuri watched as the man swallowed thickly, before taking his hand reluctantly. His grip was tight and stiff, but it was a start at least.

2

For Otabek, there was no question as to what his future held, because it was wherever Yuri found himself.

Yuri nailed his audition, and with it came the title of First Principle Male. Suddenly, he was the most important male ballerino in the entire company and Otabek was so fucking proud.

When the topic of moving in with each other came to a head, Yuri was uncharacteristically freaked out.

"How can you be so calm about this? This is a big decision," he'd snapped through the phone line. "We have to think about this."

"What is there to think about?" Otabek asked, genuinely confused.

"What is there to ask- Otabek, you're such a moron." They were words that Yuri used a lot, and every time he did, the blow was lessened.

"The obvious choice is that I move to Moscow," Otabek said simply.

Yuri gaped at him through the tiny little screen, like he hadn't even considered that he might want to do that. "You- I mean… You make it sound so simple."

Otabek blinked at that, holding his phone out before him. It was simple. In fact, his entire life had become pretty fucking simple, after he'd made the decision to come after Yuri. "Yura," he said easily, "You dance in the Bolshoi Ballet, and what do I do? I sweat my ass off in a garage, fixing the occasional bike. Which by the way, I can do anywhere in the world."

He watched as Yuri swallowed, his throat bob just the tiniest of bits. "Beka, I-" he started, and then his resolve steeled. "Well then, you better get that ass over here, because I'm literally dying without you."

Otabek knew and he tugged at his bracelet unconsciously. There was no need to wear it anymore, but he did when they were separated, just to feel the tug. It didn't pull just his heart to Moscow, it pulled at his entire being.

3

It was like they had gone back in time.

Yuri eased into Otabek's touch with an astute familiarity. This was how things were, when they had been young. He'd always been aware, he supposed. Best friends didn't really cuddle on the couch, while watching movies. Otabek would sling his arm around his shoulder, or Yuri would throw his legs across his lap.

But there was a different feel to those touches now. Fingers lingered when they ghosted across skin, and movies were often left forgotten, in favor of each other again. They didn't need words, only heated touches and lingering kisses.

Yuri had expected Otabek to be hesitant with his affection, but the man had proved him wrong. In fact, it seemed like he couldn't keep his hands off of him. It didn't matter what it was Yuri was doing, Otabek just had to touch him.

That day, Yuri brewing tea while wearing sweatpants, staring out the kitchen window like it was actually interesting. Otabek sidled up to him, grabbing onto his hips, just holding. His thumbs rubbed circles across the skin that peeked out over his low-slung waistband.

Yuri turned around to lean against the counter and Otabek adjusted his stance accordingly. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Nothing," Otabek said, but his dopey grin gave way to his lie. Yuri rolled his eyes, about to pull the kettle off before it whistled, but the other man tightened his grip. "Everything," he continued with, leaning over and sweeping a hand up to cup Yuri's face.

Yuri still couldn't believe that this man was his. He lifted his butt onto the counter, pulling his boyfriend closer, breathing out a quiet, "Beka."

Otabek smiled, leaning up as Yuri leaned down, their lips meeting.

When the kettle went off, they ignored it entirely.

4

"I've fasted before," Yuri said with a huff.

Otabek didn't doubt that; he'd seen Yuri skip meals to make his preferred weight for performances, but- "Not quite like this," Otabek murmured, rubbing at Yuri's feet. It'd been a long and grueling day for the dancer, and he'd already dipped his feet in his daily ice bath. They'd moved on to the part where Otabek rubbed at them, massaging ointment into any cuts and bruises that he suffered. "It's-"

"It can't possibly be that bad," Yuri cut in, and then winced when Otabek pushed against a particularly tender spot on his arch.

"You can't eat or drink anything from sunup to sundown. And when I mean anything, I mean it. Not even water."

"Why the fuck would you even do that?" Yuri asked, but then realized how rude that might have been. "I mean, I know it's what you grew up with and-"

"Yura, it's fine," Otabek eased, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "You already know that I'm a pretty terrible Muslim, all things considered." Otabek wasn't really religious, especially when he considered that he had a fucking boyfriend. For a global society that is pretty liberal when it came to sexual orientation, Islam fell a little bit behind.

Tradition, his parents would tell him. Thankfully, they were easing up a bit.

"Then why bother at all?" Yuri asked quietly, a probing question. He didn't pry to be rude, he seemed honestly curious. Otabek and Yuri talked about a lot of things, but his fall from religion wasn't a topic that came up a lot- let alone celebrating Ramadan together. At least, only for the one weekend they visited his family.

"Even if I'm not an active observer, there are things that comfort me," Otabek finally replied with.

"So… things like starving yourself throughout the day."

Otabek couldn't help but laugh at that. "Less so the starving, more so the connection. Eating with the entire family before the sun is up, and then breaking the fast after sundown with a feast. It's a joyous occasion, and it's one spent with your family."

Yuri considered that for a long moment. "So it's more to do with spending time with them, than your actual beliefs," he concluded. "Is that why you want me involved?"

Otabek squeezed his foot one last time and then motioned for the other one. Yuri complied immediately. "I want to share everything that I am, with you Yura," Otabek replied. "And, I think that it might impress my father."

Yuri perked up at that. "I doubt that, but I'll try."

"You're growing on him."

"No I'm not, but your mother loves me at least."

5

Otabek stared at his hand, his first two fingers up to the second knuckle in Yuri's ass.

"I'm going to fuck this up," he said, unsure with himself. He wasn't a virgin; he'd slept with people- people that were women. This was something different, this was entirely new territory.

Yuri was on his stomach, stretched out like a cat, writhing on the sheets. He could hear his heavy pants, see Yuri's half-lidded gaze as he looked back to him. It was amazing, how hot and tight Yuri was, and he couldn't wait until he could just sink into that heat and-

But Yuri had been with men before, and Otabek was one thousand percent sure that he wouldn't measure up.

"Beka," Yuri practically whined, "I promise you that you won't. You already are doing so well."

Otabek doubted that, but didn't say anything. He moved his fingers a fraction, pulling out and then pushing back in, scissoring them gently. Yuri moaned, and he took that as a good sign, repeating the motion. They'd talked about this, of course, at length. Yuri had given him every bit of advice he could have possibly wanted, guiding him into what he liked.

So far, so good, Otabek supposed but who's to say that it'd last?

"God," Yuri breathed, as his moved his fingers again. "You're just, I can't believe, Fuck-" Otabek paused at that, as Yuri ground his hips back hard. "That's, that's-"

"Oh," Otabek said, leaning forward slightly. He wiggled his fingers around, digging into that particular spot again, and the moan that he wrenched out of Yuri would be worth a hundred deaths, he decided. "That's the spot, hm?"

"Beka," the other man whimpered, pressing his hips back, doing anything that he could to get friction.

"Yura, how about another one?" Otabek asked, his free hand flat on the small of his back, soothing the skin there as he pulled his fingers out most of the way. He added another finger when he pressed back in, and he was sure that Yuri just about lost it, grinding against his hand immediately before-

"Fuck, Beka," he hissed, clenching tight. "Stop- stop-" Otabek halted immediately, worried that he'd hurt him, but Yuri only moaned in bliss, a flush haze across his cheekbones. "I was close," he managed finally. "I didn't want to until- Otabek, please."

Otabek swallowed thickly at that, removing his fingers gently. This was it, this was where he'd fuck things up, and they would never have sex again. This was- Yuri had turned around, pressing his fingers against his chest, guiding him to lean back against the headboard.

"Yura," he started with, but Yuri was already before him, condom in hand. He leaned over to lick along his length, and Otabek threw his head back at the sensation. Then, he slipped the condom on easily, adding a generous amount of lube.

When Yuri slid back up his body, straddling his hips, Otabek gripped him by the waist. "This will be easier," Yuri said. "You've done so well, Beka," he crooned, taking his cock in hand. And then Yuri was lowering his hips. "I'll show you," he promised.

Otabek's hands tightened at the intense heat, and the tightness and that- God above, he wouldn't last more than a minute. He was going to finish immediately, because he'd never felt anything so fucking amazing.

"Beka," Yuri moaned, sliding himself down slowly. Otabek was almost certain it was for himself, not Yuri, but it didn't stop his fingers from curling into Yuri's hip bones tightly at the slow drag. "I fucking swear," Yuri said, bottoming out, leaning forward. His hair cascading around Otabek's face, like a waterfall, and he lifted a hand to Yuri's cheek.

"Yura-"

"It's different with you," Yuri said, rolling his hips. Once and then twice, Otabek stock still because if he even thought about moving his hips...Yuri's eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide, as he looked down at him. He looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, at that moment. "I've done this before, but never like this, never with someone that I love-"

Otabek came immediately, his hips jerking suddenly, and he grimaced. He'd screwed this up, he hadn't lasted and Yuri would make fun of him forever.

Yuri didn't though. Instead, Yuri grabbed at his face, rubbing his thumbs across his cheeks and peppering his forehead with kisses. He whispered sweet nothings into his ear until they got the chance to try again.

That time was pure fucking heaven.

6

Yuri fingered the worn fabric of his grandfather's armchair. He wasn't really nervous, but he never liked having important conversations. He liked to live life in the moment, just moving on and forgetting about the was- but he at least owed Grandpa an explanation.

"So uh-" Yuri started, but fell short. His grandfather looked up from the counter in the small kitchen, where he was rolling out pastry dough. He just waited and Yuri was frustrated by the man's unwavering patience.

"You know that Beka and I are like… together, right? I mean I thought it was pretty obvious, but I realized that I hadn't really told you and-"

"Yuratchka," his grandfather cut in quietly, as he replied flour to his hands. "Who else would your bracelet be tuned to?"

Yuri blinked at that, and then his lip just wavered the tiniest bits. He waited for him to say more, but he didn't, only set back to making the piroshki that he was currently working on.

"I won't forgive him if he's late for dinner though. I have expectations."

Yuri couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at that.

7

"Something's different."

Otabek looked to the woman at his side, his arms crossed over his chest comfortably. Amita looked more or less the same, felt the same, was the same. She was still this unwavering force of friendship and loyalty that still made Otabek's heart melt. Really, he didn't deserve her.

"Yeah, Yuri's eased up a bit," he agreed. Yuri was off to the side chatting with Amita's husband, a fair-skinned and blonde man from the States. He looked like a fish out of water, dead smack in the middle of Almaty.

"Oh I wasn't talking about him," she said lightly, smiling at Otabek. And he knew that look- the one where she just knew whatever it was he was hiding. "I meant you. You look happy, Beks."

Otabek opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find the words. Instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and Amita spoke again. "You know, it's okay. I know that you wanted us to both be happy together, and we would have been I think. But look at us now- this isn't just happiness, this is something else."

"This is where we're meant to be," Otabek finally said and Amita hummed in agreement. "I'm right where I'm needed."

She turned to him, pulling him into a tight hug, which he awkwardly returned. "I'm so proud of you," she said, close to his ear. "I'm so, so proud."

"There's a lot of things we still have to work through," he muttered, and she pulled away, a frown tugging across her face. She reached out to push back a curl from his face. She knew, she knew. Family, traditions and breaking all of that. She'd been through it though, and she'd recovered well enough.

He would too. He had to.

"That'll take time," she said, letting go of him. "Until then, there are more pressing matters. Do you think Yuri would prefer 'Uncle', or 'Big Brother'?"

8

"How long have you loved my son, exactly?"

Yuri froze in his chair, clasping his fingers nervously together. He'd talked to Beka's mother about many things before- even embarrassing things- but this was one topic they'd always slid right over.

She noticed his hesitation, offering him a small smile. Reaching out between them, she took his hand into hers, squeezing tightly. "This isn't an interrogation," she said quietly. "I'm only trying to understand."

Half a year into their relationship, and things with still awkward. Otabek had warned him. Yuri knew what he was getting into, that not everyone was like his grandfather and just accepted what was fact.

Cause you know, Yuri and Otabek were obviously made for each other.

"For as long as I can remember," Yuri finally sighed. They sat in the small garden that graced the Altin family residence, which was lit up by brilliant flowers in the high time of spring. "I know that's a weird answer, but it's true. Like, I can't-" He paused, trying to find a way to explain it. "He's always been this solid presence, you know? And after he fell into my life, I just couldn't imagine it without him."

Aidana seemed to think about his words, nodding quietly as she looked out at the flowers.

"That extends to you as well," Yuri said quietly, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. "I've never really had a mom and you always just kinda… filled that spot for me, you know?"

"Oh Yuri, you know that I love you dearly," she replied easily.

Yuri swallowed thickly at that. "I know that I'm not exactly what you imagined for your son. I'm not Muslim, I can't give him a family, I'm not-" A woman, his brain finished, and he punctuated the thought with a sigh.

"I knew that you were trouble, the moment you tumbled through that door with him," she said, her lips twisted in humor. But she didn't sound angry, only mildly amused as she sifted through old memories. "We've only ever wanted the best for Otabek," she continued with. "Perhaps in our effort to give him that, we overlooked what that would actually be."

"Mrs. Altin-"

"Yuri, you better call me Mom." The careful warning in her voice wasn't one to be trifled with.

His mouth snapped shut. She pulled her hand from his, turning in her chair to face him squarely. "You'll have to forgive us," she said to him softly. "We are learning, but most of all, our son's happiness is the most important thing to us. I am glad that happiness is you."

"But will it ever be okay?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Oh child, of course it will be. My husband will take longer, but he'll come around. Until then, I'll just smack him every time he thinks about saying something."

Yuri smiled at that and she reached out to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. "You bring such happiness to Otabek. I honestly would have never thought I'd see it." And then her hand slid to his wrist, thumbing at his bracelet. "Allah has brought you into our lives for a reason. We'd be fools to turn you away."

Yuri didn't really know what to say, so he settled on, "Thank You."

9

Otabek wasn't sure what he expected it to feel like, but it definitely wasn't this.

Yuri was so hot, filling him perfectly and Otabek was pretty sure that the moment he even thought about twitching his hips, he wasn't going to last.

"Fucking Christ, Beka," Yuri moaned, one hand tightly latched onto his hip, the other one holding Otabek's leg up against his chest and over one shoulder. He moved to tug his hips back, but Otabek reached out.

"Wait," he breathed and Yuri stopped dead in the motion. "It's not- I just- I need a moment, that's all."

Yuri was flushed red, smoothing the hand on his hip up and over his chest. "Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea," he managed, and it Otabek knew that man at all, he would think that Yuri was in pain.

Honestly, he'd never thought he'd be in this position. Otabek wasn't the authority of gay relations, but everything he'd read had made it clear that there was a top and a bottom, and that they usually didn't switch. Yuri had laughed at that ideal, stating that it was utter nonsense.

Which led to Otabek asking if he had ever topped. And Yuri replied that he never had, which made Otabek's heart lurch, because that was something that they could share together.

Yuri'd been nervous, when he pressed in, hesitant. And he was still nervous, sitting there, cheeks flushed and his fingers rubbing patterns on Otabek's hip bone.

"Okay," Otabek said finally, "You can-"

"Finally," Yuri moaned, pulling back his hips and pressing them forward again. It was a slow and calculated movement, and it left both of them breathless. "Are you-"

"I'm perfect," Otabek breathed.

"Good, because this is about to be over," Yuri said quickly, shifting his hips again. "Cause you're- Jesus fucking Christ, is this what I feel like?"

Probably, not that he had anything to compare to- but Otabek didn't answer his blabbering. Instead, he shifted his own hips, meeting the next thrust and Yuri's voice pitched deep and low. And then Yuri adjusted his angle slightly, sliding back in with a little more force.

True to Yuri's warning, he didn't last much longer, sliding over that edge with stuttering hips and Beka's name tumbling from his lips.

Later, once cleaned up and laying in bed, Yuri said, "I know I'm like a fucking broken record or whatever, but I love you."

He was laying against Otabek's chest, skin sweaty and hot. Otabek ran a hand through his hair gently before leaning down to kiss his forehead. He didn't need to respond. There were no words that could convey what he felt, because at that moment I love you seemed like it wasn't enough. But Yuri knew.

Yuri had always known.

10

It was strange, to have the Altin's around for Christmas. It was even stranger to hold Christmas at their house, for obvious reasons. But the moment that Otabek had asked them about visiting Yuri's father in Moscow for the holiday, his mother had waved it off.

"Nonsense," she's said. "We'll host him here."

Their house was currently decked out in green and red, and even sitting there as he wrapped presents, Yuri was still pretty fucking surprised.

"Dad's more chipper than usual," Maya said with humor. The entire group turned to look at the man- who was currently chatting with Nikolai- and he looked anything but.

"He's just angry Mom made him host Christmas," Otabek drawled, pressing his finger against a length of ribbon, so his sister could knot it off. Yuri had always loved Maya. She was the entire opposite of Beka. She was loud and opinionated, and most important of all- always right.

At the same time, he had no idea how her husband Seung-gil had lasted so long. He had no idea what he would have done, if this spitfire of a woman had flown across the world and shown up on his doorstep.

And then he glanced to Beka. It seemed that trait ran within the family.

"I'm just glad there's alcohol," Yuri chimed in, sipping at a glass of wine. "I know your parents don't really drink, but I cannot do this holiday sober, I fucking swear."

"Oh I don't know," Otabek replied thoughtfully. "They actually seem to be getting along."

They all looked to the pair again, and Otabek's father cracked a small smile at something his grandpa had said- and Yuri was pretty sure he'd die of shock. "Yeah no, there's definitely not enough alcohol here, if they're going to get along," Yuri finally said, topping off his glass. "Maya?" he asked, extending the bottle.

"Oh no can do. You know, being pregnant and all."

Everyone within earshot froze, looking back to her. Otabek's mouth hung and Yuri was about one thousand percent sure that he'd heard wrong, because there was no fucking way that Maya was-

"You being what?" It was Seung-gil who broke the silence, suddenly standing up, the present he was wrapping completely forgotten on the floor. His cheeks were flushed, and Maya blinked back at him in confusion.

"I… suppose that I could have forgotten to tell you that-"

"Forgotten? How do you forget something like that?"

"Well I mean, it's not like it's a big deal-"

"Maya, how is this not a big deal? There is a child literally inside of you-"

"We want children, Seung-gil, hence it not being a big deal-"

Yuri looked to Otabek, who still seemed relatively stunned. "Perfect for each other, am I right?"

"Yeah," Otabek agreed.

"That's gonna be us in like twenty years."

"Yeah."

11

Otabek couldn't help the grin that widened across his face, every time he saw his sister. She fucking huge now, as Yuri had put delicately one afternoon, leaving her to throw a shoe at him, but Otabek seemed to not be able to get enough of it. And Amita too- anytime that they face timed through the phone.

Yuri got it, really he did. Otabek couldn't help it. Otabek loved kids. He loved families, he loved all of that. Which is why it left Yuri thinking stupid thoughts that he knew he shouldn't.

Because these were things that he couldn't give him, you know? And his brain knew that Otabek would literally die, rather than trade him for someone else, but it didn't help.

One night, they were on the couch together, watching some old movie and snacking on some super unhealthy foods- the kind of shit that Lilia would kill him over.

"Yura, you're staring," Otabek finally said, looking to him with an easy smile across his face. Yuri had his legs thrown over his lap, and per usual, Otabek was rubbing at them. And he must've noticed Yuri's 'thinking frown', because he paused in the massage and said seriously, "Yuri, what is it?"

"I just- Do you-" Yuri paused and took a deep breath. "I know that you wanted kids and shit. Do you feel like that's a wasted opportunity because of… well, you know." He motioned between the two of them.

Otabek was quiet for a long moment, before he answered. "You know, I talked with my mother about this, recently," he said. "I asked her if Maya's kids would be enough. Do you know what she said?"

"I couldn't imagine," Yuri said dryly.

"First, she smacked me on the head, and then she told me that I would be stupid not to raise a kid with you."

Yuri's heart skipped a beat at that. He knew that Mom loved him and all, but he'd assumed that there would just be some things that she'd never be able to overlook- and this was definitely one of them.

"I have no idea why you think we couldn't have kids Yuri. Aside from the obvious."

"I just assumed that… well, it's a lot of work."

Otabek gave him this look that read, Well Duh. "Do you want kids?"

Yuri felt his stomach in his throat, at the question. "I mean… well, I've never really-" But that wasn't true, he'd thought about it a lot as of late. Otabek would be so warm with their children, so loving. And Yuri would never be able to overlook the sight. He'd be the perfect father.

Him? Not so much.

"I want children with you," Otabek finally said, squeezing at his feet gently.

"I do too," Yuri agreed. "I think. Not now. Not soon."

Otabek nodded. "Shame, because Maya already offered to be a surrogate."

Otabek narrowly missed the pillow that was thrown directly at his head.

12

"It's okay. I'm- I'm okay with… I'm okay with this."

Otabek had waited a year, to hear his father say that. And he wasn't there to hear it.

"I'm going to ask him to marry me," Yuri blurted. The man gave him a bewildered look and he winced. Maybe that wasn't the best follow-up to your boyfriend's father finally saying that he's okay with your very gay relationship that goes against everything that he knows. But it's what he said.

"Good," his father finally said. "It's about time. I'm surprised that Otabek hasn't asked first."

Yuri was very sure that he was planning to, and he was going to beat him to the punch.

"You're good for him," Sabir Altin said quietly. "I've done a lot of thinking, over this year and you're just… you're good."

Yuri wished that he was videotaping this, because he would never, ever hear it again. And then the man shifted, holding out his hand. And Yuri stared at it, really stared at it, as Sabir waited.

Yuri took hold and gripped tightly, unable to hold back the smile that spread across his face.

One Year

It wasn't easy riding tandem on Otabek's motorcycle. It was an ancient thing not built for two people, restored to its prime, glossy and polished to perfection. Because that was just Otabek, perfection personified.

At least to Yuri.

They'd paused to take a break, Otabek kicking down the bike stand. Yuri pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair- which felt odd, because he'd recently cut it. It around his chin and his head felt lighter than it had in years.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"We're almost there," Otabek promised, but refused to give up anymore.

Yuri wasn't sure what almost there meant, but they were currently in the Kazakh Steppes, literally a half-day away from civilization. And yeah, it was fucking gorgeous scenery, with the rolling green hills and mountains and valleys but-

Well, Yuri was a city kind of guy, and this was way too wilderness-y for his liking.

After their short break, they suited back up, Yuri slinking behind Otabek on the narrow seat. Two hours later, they pulled off the main road, favoring a worn dirt path. Otabek finally pulled to a stop, near the top of a hill crest, overlooking the area.

"Okay, spill it. Where the fuck are we?" Yuri asked, shaking out his legs from the long ride.

"You know how you always make fun of my Life Changing Year Long Ride?"

Yuri blinked at that- how could he forget? Only Otabek could travel throughout the entirety of Central Asia on his bike, only to come back from it a better man. Yeah, he made fun of that, but Yuri meant it with only the utmost love.

"On my way back home," Otabek continued, "I passed through this area. And this is where I was, when I decided that everything was going to be okay. That everything with Amita was fine, that I was my own person, and that my life was going to be perfection from then on out. I'd do my own thing, live my own life and I was good."

They'd never really talked about this, Yuri realized belatedly. They'd never really talked about that ride, or the thoughts that Otabek had or realized.

"They day that you're bracelet turned on, changed my life. Suddenly, I was having a crisis again. Suddenly, everything wasn't okay. And then you started going on about how you didn't have time for it, how the tug was just annoying you. And I'm sitting there thinking that I can't say anything, because I don't want to be the one to ruin it all.

"When it got bad enough for me to lose focus on everything, I took a ride. I saddled up my bags and hit the road again, but this time I only made it a day, because this is where I stopped. And this was where I realized how fucking stupid I was to not go to you."

Yuri felt the air leave his chest as Otabek reached into his pocket, and he knew, he just knew what Otabek was about to do.

"Yes," Yuri said, before Otabek could properly ask. The other man paused, looking at him, his face crinkled in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're going to ask me to marry you, right? The answer is yes." He watched as Otabek's breath hitched, and he swallowed thickly. "I mean, I kinda already told your Dad that I was going to ask, but you beat me to it I guess."

"Yura, you-"

"But I mean, the answer is fucking obvious-"

Otabek crossed the space between them, pulling him close as wrapped his arms around him. "Yura," he whispered, and dammit, Yuri wasn't about to fucking cry. Otabek pulled back, his hands on his cheeks, searching up into his eyes, and he looked so happy.

He kissed him, and Yuri responded enthusiastically, throwing his arms around his neck leaning down into him. They enjoyed that moment, long and sweet, before pulling away.

"What a fucking journey, you know," Yuri finally said, breathless. "From the beginning to get to here."

"Yeah," Otabek agreed with a laugh. "You'll have to forgive an old man for being stubborn and taking too long."

"You know, I don't even care anymore," Yuri said, smiling. "Because in the end, I still get the old man. How lucky is that? Pretty fucking lucky."

But luck had nothing to do with it, it was all the work of fate. Yuri had been pretty stupid to ignore that tug in the beginning, and he was glad that Beka hadn't. Otherwise, they'd be in very different places now, which was something he didn't even want to think about.

"You know, it's only smooth sailing from here on out."

"Nothing with you is ever smooth, Yura," Otabek replied wryly.

"No, but you love me anyway," Yuri said with a grin.

"Always," Otabek agreed. "Forever," he promised.

Yuri preened at the words. Forever was good.

Forever was something that they could do.