And the Award for Best Power Couple Goes to...

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~ So I just watched the ISU Awards and Madison Chock and Evan Bates were SO CUTE. What if that was Otayuri?

Or: They're invited to the ISU Awards via the internet during quarantine, and Yuri accidentally outs their relationship on live TV.

***

"This is stupid," Yuri muttered from the couch, slumped against the cushions and looking thoroughly unwilling to be doing this. "Why do we have to give fucking interviews? We're not fucking facetiming-- can't they just find a picture and slap it on the screen and we can go on our merry way?"

Otabek, in the kitchen of his small flat in Almaty, rolled his eyes. "They're trying to keep it as close to normal as possible," he reasoned, "last year we were able to accept the awards in person-- we're not getting out of the speeches just because we're stranded on separate corners of the earth."

"God, that's true," Yuri grumbled again, watching Otabek make tea through the open floor plan of his apartment. "The ISU will never be stopped. Fuck me if an earthly force will ever succeed in bringing it down."

"Well, that's not fair. I fuck you anyway, so that isn't saying much."

Yuri turned pink. The 'fuck you' on his lips was withheld as he pulled himself from the couch and slumped over to wrap his arms around his boyfriend.

The couple was currently living in Otabek's cramped and tiny apartment in urban Almaty, conveniently working around the COVID ban on seeing people who one didn't live with during quarantine. Yuri, true to his nature, refused blatantly to risk not being able to see Beka for months upon months (because normally they at least got together at competitions) and had hopped on a six dollar flight from Petersburg to Almaty a good five minutes before international travel became impossible.

At nineteen, there wasn't much Yuri couldn't do, and leaving his grandfather for months on end (yeah, he felt pretty bad about that one) to show up on his long-distance boyfriend's doorstep for an indefinite stay certainly didn't fall into that category.

"Whatever," Yuri huffed, "why do we have to watch it, though? The awards are so stupid this year. Kenjirou is nominated for Best Newcomer! What the hell is that about? He's older than I am!"

Otabek chuckled, pressing a mug of tea into Yuri's hand. "He only started competing internationally two seasons ago, not everyone had their international senior debut at fifteen when they became old enough to enter the category. He's doing well, cut him some slack."

Yuri rolled his eyes, "Whatever. The fucking chicken nugget shouldn't be nominated next to goddamn six-year-olds. How old is Kostornaia? Twelve? It's sad that he's up against kids."

"She's sixteen," Otabek replied, though not denying that it wasn't a little sad that a twenty-one-year-old was going for the same award as two sixteen-year-olds. "So is Trusova, and You, though she didn't make the top three."

"Doesn't matter," Yuri huffed, "if he's competing against toddlers there's an issue."

Otabek tipped his head to that; he couldn't really disagree.

Together, they moved back to the couch, settling in to watch the beginning of the awards together.

"You're on soon," Otabek said, nudging Yuri as his rant about the outcome of Best Coach grew more heated. "You need to change."

"--And she's fucking abusive! I've seen those girls, they weigh two and a half pounds! It's not healthy: no wonder she has so many one-time champion fucking skaters, she fucking breaks them! Look what happened to Lipnitskaya, she got anorexia and retired at eighteen; Medvedeva left her for Toronto; Zagitova had a breakdown and took a season off; and even Trusova is going back to Plushenko! There's obviously something wrong there and she still gets Best Coach! Arg!"

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