Occasionally, it's weird how this whole "thing" works. This is one of those times. Yuuri is always a bit like an optical illusion. He seems kind of imperious and silent at first, until he stammers and blushes and it becomes obvious that he's just awkward and shy. But then... he's not really just awkward and shy, not really. Not very many people get close enough to him to see it, but he's driven, internally motivated in a way very few people are. He doesn't share easily-- not himself, not his feelings, not his doubts.

This, too, continues the illusion. This whole day has been a treat, Yuuri wanting to show Viktor how much he appreciates how hard all of this is for him-- not just the coaching, but the getting Yuuri settled, keeping him from freaking out, dealing with his weird quirks, while having to deal with all of his own worries as well. Yuuri hasn't really been in a place to help much with any of that, and he knows it. Him letting himself go a little bit, giving Viktor something he usually makes him work hard for, is a reward, and they both know it.

It's just it looks a whole lot like him fisting his hands in the pillows above his head to make sure he doesn't pull at the scarf and spreading his legs more, feet sliding up to press flat against the bed so he can push back on that first push of fingers in, show Viktor how little he needs to be careful with him at the moment more than demanding anything in particular. He flushes and closes his eyes, turning his head to the side, feeling more vulnerable than he likes, but he deliberately makes the choice to not try to fight the moan that bubbles up out of him at Viktor's touch.