I'm so so sorry this is being published late! I was extremely busy yesterday and got home at a quarter to midnight; needless to say, this chapter has not been revised as I went to bed nearly immediately. Attack me with typos (kindly please) and I offer my apologies; I figured it was better to let there be a few errors in here than to publish it any later, so I can only shrug.
Enjoy this final installment!
~~~
"I'm so. Fucking. Huge. Oh my god." Yuri lowered himself into his chair, Otabek tracking his movements attentively from where he stood on the other side of the table.
Yuri raised an eyebrow at him from where he was working on situating himself comfortably in the corner that had never felt quite so small, before. Didn't mean he was willing to move. "Why are you just standing there? Sit down, weirdo."
Otabek just shrugged, taking his seat after waiting another second longer. "Sorry," he said, "it just didn't feel polite to sit while you were so obviously struggling."
Yuri gaped, scandalized. "You ass," he chucked a neatly folded napkin at him, it proving inept at aerodynamics and fluttering lamely to rest atop the menus in the center of the table. "Fuck off."
Otabek simply laughed, shrugging slightly as Yuri glared, betrayed on a number of levels, at his failed projectile. In a moment, though, they were both distracted, as Yuri's mouth fell open in shock.
"Oh my god," he said, almost flatly.
"What?" Was Otabek's natural response.
"Oh my god," Yuri said again, before pointing to his stomach, where it rested heavily between his thighs. "It's official, I've become too big for civilized society."
"What?" Otabek repeated, in some weird version of Marco Polo that the two seemed to be verbally playing, what with their penchants for the repetition of their own words.
"Look," Yuri said, gesturing again to his abdomen, and letting out a gust of air. "It doesn't fit under the table."
Otabek leaned to the side, coming out of his chair partially to stare, eyes wide, at the place where Yuri's abdomen was on level with the edge of the table, refusing to submit and rest under it. Resultantly, Yuri sat a bit away from the tabletop, leaning back now he realized that he wasn't going to be getting any closer, and pulling the ends of his high ponytail from where they were caught between his back and the chair.
"Huh," Otabek remarked, obviously caught somewhere between amusement and consternation, "that's certainly new."
"It certainly is," Yuri muttered, resentful even as he smoothed the fabric of his turtleneck over his abdomen. At the ribs, the shirt bloused, and the effect, when standing, was nice, but when sitting, was a bit of a nuisance. "You want to know how you could make it better?" Yuri arranged his face into one he deemed to be sympathy-inducing.
Otabek snorted. "How?"
"Get me some tea?" Yuri asked sweetly, his best impression of innocent hope wasted as Otabek rolled his eyes, seeing completely through Yuri's facade. "I forgot when I ordered."
"Fine," Otabek conceded, standing again, "that weird cranberry one?"
"Yah," Yuri grinned after him, "thanks!"
A hand was raised over Otabek's shoulder in reply, and Yuri huffed a laugh as he rubbed his abdomen. A kick met his touch, and his wry smile softened.
"When are you due?"
Yuri looked up; an older woman sitting a table or so away was watching him, smiling slightly. "The tenth," Yuri replied.
"That's soon!" She exclaimed, and Yuri smiled, raising his eyebrows slightly,
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