Brace Yourself

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This is a tie-in fic for venom_for_free's fic, "Superfan!" This can be read as a stand-alone, but I highly recommend reading Venom's bigger work, which incorporates tons of visual and literary Otayuri content! I had so much fun working on this project, and I'm so grateful to be a part of it! ♥

A huge thank you to Venom and especially Tae for the last-minute beta work; this would be pretty much unreadable without their help. XD

~~~

Nagoya.

Vancouver.

Pyeongchang.

Turin.

Barcelona.

Five cities. Five attempted dates. And five near-misses on telling his best friend he was maybe, completely, entirely desperately in love with him. But that wouldn't happen this time. No, Otabek had it all planned out: there was a destination in mind, a goal to actualize, a literal bulleted itinerary to adhere to. And, however it went, Otabek had finally worked up the courage to confess.
He just hoped, somewhat wistfully, that Yuri wouldn't rip his head off when he did so.

(He hoped, even more wistfully, that Yuri would reciprocate, but he had a strong feeling that the only way he'd be able to force the words out would be if he was complete in his delusion that Yuri loved him, too. So he was trying to not make the eventuality seem improbable, even in his own brain.)

He'd been working up to this for years, had come prepared for Montreal. Otabek had checked out all the best places to fall in love online, just like he had with Barcelona and every city ever since. Still, something always got in the way: something interfered and sent Otabek's careful online scouting tumbling down the drain.

In Nagoya, he'd taken Yuri to Tokugawa Garden, guided him through the winding mazes of foliage and scenery to the lakefront where he'd planned to confess. But then Yuri had, in some strange turn of events, fallen off the small bridge they'd stood on, flailing and screaming down into the four feet of water below, and they'd gotten kicked out because swimming was strictly prohibited. The attempt had been abandoned immediately afterward; Yuri was in no mood for romance while he wore sopping wet pants.

In Vancouver, they'd gone to the Seawall, and despite the sunset being perfect along the horizon and the small bouquet of flowers whose thorns were stabbing Otabek from where they were hidden within his leather jacket, romance had been forsaken there, too. Yuri was far too interested in making the Instagram comparison between this Seawall and Hasetsu's to be receptive to Otabek's many fumbling attempts at flirting.

And then there had been Pyeongchang, but the entirety of the internet had seen that.

Turin, when Otabek had been so sure he would manage to confess—he'd booked tickets to Borgo Medievale and Parco del Valentino—but arrived at the hotel just in time to catch a delirious Yuri who, Otabek learned, was sick with the flu and in no condition to leave the room they shared. Shockingly, Yuri still medalled at the competition they had been there for. It was bronze, granted, but anything was impressive when, hours before, Otabek had borne witness to the delirium which compelled Yuri to sing Panic! At The Disco's "Mona Lisa'' endlessly, despite him just about losing his voice. And, later, had been a victim of the energy crash which resulted in Otabek, with a sick and fluid-leaking Yuri on his chest, lying perfectly still on the bed, probably enjoying the physical contact more than was either moral or healthy when Yuri was A) extremely ill, and B) dead asleep on his human-sized pillow.

And finally, preceding each failure, was Barcelona.

But this time was different. Montreal was foolproof, not another aborted try to add to his depressingly long list. Otabek, if it killed him, was going to tell Yuri he loved him. Once and for all.

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