( Something slots into place at that question. The tension seems to roll back a little way and give him space to breathe; Yuri looks at his hand, then offers a nod before slipping his hand into Otabek's. )

You're not keeping me up.

( He rolls his eyes, then shifts so that're sitting a little closer together. Thigh to thigh. The pressure is warm and pleasant, and Yuri exhales softly to help center himself as he curls his fingers around Otabek's palm properly. )

Anyway, do you really think I wouldn't just shove you off the bed if I wanted you gone?

( An eyebrow flicks up to his hairline as he shoots a Look up at his friend, and smirks. Now that the crackling uncertainty is mostly gone it's easy to cover himself back up with bravado, and -

It's better this way, right? When he knows where he stands and what he's doing. When he doesn't feel like he might be about to say or do something that might spoil their friendship, or make Otabek think less of him for his inexperience. Lord knows it's difficult to fuck up holding hands ...

But he manages it about fifteen minutes later, when he sags against Otabek's side and drifts off into a light snooze. )