#eimik

Café Plisetsky 

“There he goes again.”  Viktor leaned on the front counter, watching the sidewalk outside their coffee shop with mild interest.

“Who?”  Mila, his coworker and friend, barely looked up from the espresso shot glasses she’s cleaning.

“Yura’s boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” the younger teen in question interjected as he came out from the back room with a tray of still-hot pirozhkis.  He sat the tray down carefully in its place in the display.

“You would if you asked him out already.”  Mila blinked innocently at Yuri.

“Shut up, hag.”  Yuri glared.  “He’s barely a friend.  I only ever see him for a few minutes while he’s here, and that’s not even every day.”

“It’s only not every day because he keeps walking if he doesn’t see you,” Viktor smirked.  “I’ve seen him do it, usually around this time every day.”

“I’ve seen it, too.”  Mila agreed.

“Now you’re just assuming shit.”  Yuri rolled his eyes.  “Maybe he doesn’t always have the time to stop in.”

“He’s definitely looking for his favorite kitten,” Mila teased.

Yuri shook his head.  “You’re getting delusional now.”

“Delusional?”  Viktor crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his chin thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in his eye.  “Is that why you tend to bring out fresh pastries around this time?”

Yuri’s face heated up, even as he glared.  “It’s just when things finish baking, asshole.  Grandpa has a schedule he wants me to keep in the mornings.”

“Uh huh.”

Mila snickered.

“Both of you assholes need to stay out of my business.”  Yuri was growing more and more irritated.  He wasn’t about to admit that he was embarrassed.

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with a little romance.”  Viktor shrugged.  He grabbed a cloth from one of the nearby bleach water containers and started to wipe down the front counter area.

Yuri was about to retort, but the bell signaling the front door open cut him off before any sound could leave.  Instead he turned to more fully face the front.  “Welcome to- oh, hey Beka.”

Both Mila and Viktor looked up to see the regular in question, standing a few feet away from the counter with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his usual leather jacket.  The pair exchanged a look.

“Viktor, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think I found a screw coming loose from one of the shelves in the back.”  Mila nodded to the back room.

Viktor was confused for a millisecond, then smiled.  “Oh?  Why don’t you show me and I’ll get to work on that right now.”

“Sure.”  Mila waved her hand for Viktor to follow, and the two disappeared into the back.

Damn busybodies, Yuri thought, shaking his head.  “Don’t mind them.  You getting your usual today?”

“Actually, I just wanted to talk to you,” Otabek quietly admitted.  “About something.”

Yuri looked slightly confused.  “Um, sure.  What did you want to talk about?”  His mind flipped through possibilities, settling on one that made his eyes narrow.  “Don’t tell me those idiots back there have been harassing you.  They’re always so annoying, I’ll tell my grandfather they’re getting complaints.”

“No, nothing like that.”  Otabek took a couple awkward steps closer to the counter.  “I just wanted to say, I really like our conversations whenever I stop in.”

“Yeah?”  Yuri ignored how his heart skipped a beat.  Otabek liked their conversations.

“Yeah.”  Otabek’s expression remained passive, but he reached up and scratched the back of his neck idly.  “So, I thought, maybe we could meet up and talk when you’re not working?  Maybe get something to eat.”

Yuri’s mind stuttered a little.  Was this…?  “You mean, like a date?”

Otabek’s posture stiffened.  “If you don’t want to, it’s ok.  I just thought, maybe-”

“Yeah.”  Yuri cut him off, a soft smile on his lips.  “I can meet you down at that new noodle place down the road after work.  Maybe at 8?”

Otabek smiled, a small smile that almost couldn’t be called a smile, but it warmed Yuri’s chest all the same.  “Yeah, sounds good.  I’ll see you then.”

Yuri nodded, his smile turning into more of a smirk.  “I’m still telling Grandpa you were complaining about the idiots.  It’ll be funny.”

Otabek chuckled.  He finally approached the counter, grabbing a napkin and a pen.  “Here, you can text me and I’ll avoid coming in when your grandpa’s here so it really looks like I’m upset.”