Chapter Text
When Yuri Plisetsky signed up to be the roommate of a girl who looked like she could kill, he didn’t realize what he was actually getting himself into. He never had a problem with girls, other than the ones who were obsessed with him because of his popularity on social media, but his roommate was a special type of a handful.
She was cool and all, with her brightly dyed hair and her particularly dark and rebellious sense of fashion. But Yuri couldn’t help but notice that she was especially terrifying when it was that time of the month, and that she managed to get home at an extremely late hour about 70% of the time.
The apartment they shared was the perfect size. The two bedrooms were both the same size, and the kitchen was only a little smaller than Yuri would have liked, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. Although he may have had a hot temper and a very biased opinion on everything, he understood when he had something that more than what he deserved.
His roommate, who’s name was Mila, sat on a bench in the kitchen one Friday night when she was actually home, about three weeks after they had met and started living together. Yuri laughed wildly at a story Mila had told him as he finished making two of his Grandpa’s special Katsudon Piroshki, his hair tied back into a bun. “Ya’ know, I don’t really know that much about you, Yuri.” Mila smirked as she crossed done leg over the other.
Yuri looked at her, surprised that she was interested in him at all. “There’s not that much to know.” He shrugged, handing her a hot Piroshki wrapped in a paper towel. “What do you wanna know?”
Mila pondered for a moment, blowing on her food to cool it down. “Well… I don’t know what you major in. And I don’t know what your hobbies are.”
“I’m a ballet dancer,” Yuri mumbled, looking at his roomie from the corner of his eye. “And I major in graphic design. I really like working with Photoshop and all that shit. I draw a bit too, so it helps me develop my art style.”
Mila almost choked on her food, shocked. “Really? You’re a ballerina? Mister, I-could-totally-beat-all-of-your-friends-up-in-a-minute is a ballerina?” Yuri shrugged, annoyed that she was making it sound so weird for a guy to like ballet. Mila suddenly became smug. “Huh… so you’re an artist, too?”
“Yeah, i am.” Yuri mumbled. “I post a lot of my art on Instagram, so ive got a really big following. Im half decent at taking nice photos, too.” He continued to devour his food as a thought popped into his head. “What about you? You’re almost always home late, and you’ve got this whole ‘rebellious’ thing going on, so what’s your story?“
Mila chuckled, taking a small bite out of her Piroshki and swinging her feet back and forth. “I’m an English major. I self publish novels online. Usually fanfiction.” She tried to hide a sheepish smile, kind of embarrassed that she just admitted something like that. However, considering his expression, Yuri seemed oblivious as to what that actually was. “As for the late nights… I’m the lead singer and a guitarist in a band with a few of my friends. We practice at like, ten every night but Thursday and Sunday.”
Yuri smiled, much fonder of the whole ’in a band’ thing than devil worshiping (which was what he had assumed a couple of times). “That’s cool…” He mused, his upbeat mood different from his usual grumpy aura. “Why arent you practicing tonight, then?“
“Our lead guitarist has been feeling really shit for the past week.” She sighed, hopping off the bench and tapping her heel on the door of the fridge as she took a sip from a can of pepsi (Mila always insisted that they got Pepsi as well as Coke, even though Yuri despised it). “He was throwing up last night, so we cancelled practice for tonight. He should be good for tomorrow, though.”
“You should let me watch you rehearse sometime.
She chuckled lowly, nudging Yuri’s arm with her elbow. “Likewise, Yuri. Considering you’re a ballerina, though, I doubt you’d like the music we play.”
Mila finished off her food before throwing the paper towel in the bin. “Tch,” Yuri scoffed, glaring at the back of her head. “Who says I don’t jam to some Nirvana?”
Mila doubled over with laughter, leaning against the open fridge door. “What, you like grunge music?” She pondered aloud, smirking at Yuri’s offended expression. “To be honest, I’d be thrilled if you came to watch us, but we’re all at least three years older than you. You might get kinda intimidated.” At Yuri’s offended expression, Mila cursed. “I just mean, they might poke fun st you if they figure out that you’re a ballerina. They’re all meat-heads.”
With a sigh, Yuri nodded. “Yeah, I get you.”
“Yuri!” Mila’s voice made Yuri jump as he sat alone on the couch, eating scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast and watching some crappy show about midgets in LA. He turned his head so quickly, he was pretty sure he had gotten whiplash. “Wanna come to my bands rehearsals tonight? It’s gonna be shorter, so you’ll only be there for an hour, rather than two.”
With a groan and a mutter, Yuri shook his head. “I can’t tonight. I’ve gotta wallow in my self pity and stare into the abyss.” He gave Mila an apologetic glance before focusing his attention on his food and the program on TV.
Mila put her hand on her hip, acting offended. “Wasn’t it only last night when you said you wanted to watch us rehearse?” She glared at him. “Instead of being a loser and quoting The Grinch, you could do something fun!” She hopped to his side, giving him a hopeful stare.
Yuri cocked his head and smirked. “I was only kidding about the pity and abyss shit. I actually have a practice today, too.” He explained. “I’ll be way too exhausted to come. Another night, I promise.”
Mila shrugged her shoulders and muttered something about how it was Yuri’s loss as she slugged into her room to get changed out of her awfully unflattering pyjamas. Yuri was already dressed and ready to go out, since he was planning on going to the shops before rehearsal. Ballet, despite what some people thought, requires a lot of effort, as well as skill. So, every time he had a rehearsal at the CAPA part of the Colleges campus (CAPA stands for Creative And Performing Arts), Yuri liked to relax and go shopping.
His ballet instructor never gave him an easy time. He was a really successful figure skater, but also a really talented dancer as well. The two went hand in hand, after all. Yuri wasn’t particularly fond of his teacher, considering during most of his rehearsals, his insufferable husband would come along and make googly eyes for the whole time. Yuri found it disgusting.
“I’m leaving, Mila! I’ll be back before you go to your rehearsal, I hope!”
The walk to the shopping district wasn’t short, but it wasn’t really long either. The thing Yuri had always hated about it was that it was constantly packed with whiney children and annoying mothers. Of course, he was annoyed at the few times he’d have to stop to take pictures with fans of him. See, Yuri was a star on social media. He liked to flatter himself and call himself an influence for millions of teenagers, but people around him usually cut his ego down to size.
Yuri hurried to get through the bustling crowd, keeping his head down and blasting Hollywood Undead in his earphones. He occasionally grazed a passerby with his leopard-print-jacket clad shoulder, but one guy, only a bit taller than him (but fuller in frame), really bumped him.
Taking out one earphone, he turned back and glared at the guy. “Oi! Watch where you’re going-” he was cut off, however, when the guy turned and gave him an apologetic look, offering a quick sorry, I’m in a hurry, and storming off.
Yuri couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was.
“Viktor! I’m sorry I’m late!” Yuri barged through the door of the Ballet studio, pulling off his jacket, jeans and shoes to get changed into his tights and slippers. Yuri was someone who liked to show off how ‘manly’ he was, but he was really just a very feminine guy with a negative attitude.
“It’s alright, Yurio!” Yuri cringed at the nickname, becoming annoyed suddenly as he grumbled and dawdled into the studio. His mood got even worse as he saw Viktors husband, the other Yuri. Although Viktor had known Yuri longer than his husband, he changed his name to Yurio and continued to call the other Yuri by his normal name. It pissed him off beyond belief.
Yurio cringed as Viktor left a lingering kiss on Yuri’s lips, winking at him. “Alright, Yurio, how’s your week been?”
“Alright, I guess.” He shrugged. “I found out that my roommate is in a band last night. I shouldn’t have been surprised though, you should see her.”
“That’s interesting,” Viktor chuckled, sounding positively sarcastic.
“If you’re gonna ask me how my week’s been, at least show a bit of interest in my answer, asshole!”
As per usual, Viktor smugly smirked. Even after the long ten years that they had known eachother, pissing off Yuri was still one of Viktor’s favourite pass times. “Okie, let’s start with some stretches.”
Yuri wasn’t home until about 11 pm, since he had stopped not only at Starbucks, but at Hot Topic, The Pet Store and had dinner at a Mexican place. Yuri had a knack for procrastinating and taking way longer to do things than needed, so he managed to spend a few more hours at the shopping district than he normally did.
There was a light on in the hallway, and Yuri assumed it was just a light Mila had left on for him when she left. She did that sometimes, but not always.
He grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and sculled it, ignoring the tingling sensation he got in his throat. He took off his jacket and singlet and threw them into the dirty clothes basket near the front door, sighing with relief at the freedom of not wearing a shirt. It wasn’t a cold night, but it wasn’t particularly hot either.
He started getting ready for a shower, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a towel from the cupboard before dawdling down the hallway. As he grabbed the doorknob, it started turning without him, and the door swung open to reveal a very tanned half naked man, a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.
He looked at Yuri, shocked, and avoided him as he got out of the doorway and stood idly in the hallway. The pair only looked at each other, both of their eyes trailing down subconsciously to look at each others exposed abdomens. As they realized what they were doing, they quickly averted their eyes to one another’s eyes.
“Who are you?” Yuri pointed, not bothering to hide his chest. He recognized the guys face, and realized that it was the same guy he bumped into earlier that day. “Why were you in my bathroom? Half naked?”
The guy smirked and crossed his large arm across his chest. “I’m Otabek. I’m guessing you’re Mila’s roommate?“ He outstretched his hand for a handshake, but Yuri only looked at it, and then at his face. “Alright, well… I was having a shower. The wet hair and towel should have given that away.”
Yuri’s eyes began to trail down his chest again, only now noticing the water dripping down his toned torso. “Like what you see? I could take my towel off as well, if you want.” Otabek smirked, looking down at Yuri’s suddenly flustered face.
“N-no!” Yuri exclaimed, shaking his hands wildly. “Don’t be an idiot and actually answer my questions!”
With a chuckle, Otabek gently pushed passed him and let himself into Mila’s room. “Yuri, is it?” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m in Mila’s band. She may have told you about me, or not. I don’t know. Anyway, I was feeling a little under the weather and couldn’t go to practice, and I didn’t have a place to crash tonight. She said I could sleep on the couch here.”
“OK, but did she say you could have a sho-”
“Mila also told me,” Otabek cut Yuri off as he threw a singlet on. “That her lanky roommate had a pretty short temper and would be very annoyed. Turn around.” He gave Yuri a serious look, and he immediately turned on the spot as he realised what Otabek was doing. “She said I could make myself at home. I have been here before, you know.”
Yuri frowned, folding his arms across his exposed chest. As he turned around again, Otabek had just finished putting a pair of pyjama pants on, and had a quick perv of Yuri’s surprisingly toned stomach. “You know, Mila said you were lanky and angry, but she didn’t say anything about you being hot.”
Yuri choked on his saliva and gave Otabek a startled stare. “W-what? I’m not…”
Otabek burst out with laughter as he made his way out of Mila’s room, stopping at Yuri’s side and leaning in dangerously close to Yuri’s face. “Trust me, you are.”