( The hand on his thigh triggers a little jolt through Yuri's system. It's not something he's experienced before and he doesn't entirely grasp what it means, but it's good, if a little unnerving. When Otabek's hand doesn't move away Yuri find himself glad for it. He looks back towards him, and has to firmly remind himself not to scoot just a little closer. )

Yeah. I'll tell you.

( A nod. Tentatively, Yuri places his own hand over Otabek's, but the contact is fleeting as a heartbeat. What puzzles him is that he wants to touch him. He's spent his whole life shrugging off Yakov and running from Viktor; hiding from Mila and her freakish strength. The only person he's truly elected to touch on a regular basis is his grandpa, who he loves more than anything.

Having Otabek touch him, though. It makes him feel nice, even when it's just his hand against his leg. )

... What?

( He says after a moment, feeling a little self-conscious under the intensity of his friend's gaze. He touches his hair, wondering if it's being stupid, then brushes it back from his face again. Doubt begins to worm its way into the back of his mind. )

I - if you want to go, you can.

( A moment ago Yuri was relishing Otabek's decision to stay, yet now he can't help but notice how many times he's mentioned leaving. )

I don't want to keep you stuck here if you want to go to bed.