there you go :)
Just like Otabek said, they went to buy Yuri his own guitar. A right handed one this time and suddenly, Yuri understands why it felt so weird holding the other boy’s instrument in his hands earlier.
They even found him a nice strap for it, with a pretty pink and purple cheetah print and a handful of pick as well. The guitar feels cold under his fingers, the strings hard and strong under his delicate hands.
He is surprised he can even hold the thing properly with Otabek siting so close to him. He is surprised his fingers are not shaking as Otabek’s rough ones are helping him to position his own properly on the neck of the guitar. He is surprised that such strong hands can feel so soft and tender.
But of course they are, it’s Otabek. With his dark eyes and square jawline. With a face that is quite intimidating to anyone else but not when he looks at Yuri.
There is always a softness on his face when he looks at him, warmth in his eyes and in his voice. So, it’s obvious that the way he touches Yuri would be just the same. He makes him feel important when he looks at him, makes him feel talented when he sits in a corner of the studio and watches him dance like there is nowhere else he’d rather be.
He makes Yuri feels like he is on fire, under his rough fingertips.
And it’s only one innocent guitar learning session. Yuri is going to die at some point, he just knows it.
Otabeks tells him there are three chords to know at first, that most popular songs were written with those. He is almost whispering, looking up at Yuri from behind the fringe of his dark silky hair to check if he understands what he is telling him.
Yuri gives him a faint little nod, knowning by how hot he feels that his face is probably bright red at the moment. He lets Otabek place his hand correctly on the neck of the guitar and he is silently praying his hand are not too sweaty.
And Yuri does, strumming the strings with his thumb. It sounds a little shaky but not too bad and when he looks up at Otabek with a proud smile lighting up his whole face, he finds the older boy already smiling, his coffee brown eyes shining with pride again.
“That was good, Yura.”
Yuri looks back down at the guitar to hide the blush blooming all over his cheeks again at Otabek’s praises and sweet nickname. But he feels the dark haired man pushing a few strands of his long blond hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. His thumb brushes against the warm skin for just a fraction of a second before dropping his hand back on his knee, “Now do it again.”