emberossing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emberossing) wrote2017-03-05 04:53 pm
emberossing) wrote2017-03-05 04:53 pm
for wauuu
Yuuri cracks open his eyes, blearily, to an unfamiliar ceiling. His head feels like it's either on fire or full of bees or possibly both and his stomach does a slow, sickening roll as he opens his eyes, but it settles, at least for the time being. Not just his head but everything hurts enough that, at least at first, he more just moves on auto-pilot, looking around for his glasses and taking what is obviously a pair of Paracetamol on the bedside table. There's a little note with them but he doesn't parse either the message or recognize the handwriting, so he just drinks about half the glass of water and looks around.
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
Memories leak back in slowly-- Vicchan, the competition, calling his mom, going back to the room, Celestino insisting that he had to go to the banquet afterwards, possibly worried he was going to do something stupid if he didn't. But he remembered saying no and refusing to open the door. So... shouldn't he be in the hotel room?
This is not the hotel room.
In fact, he swears he's seen this room before, somewhere, actually, but he's too tired and bleary to figure out where. So he just walks over to the bathroom, which he, for some reason, is able to guess the location of, and splashes water on his face rubs at it until he somewhat resembles a human being, and then goes in search of more clues to where he is.
The bedroom door creaks open and there's another sense of deja-vu as he looks around the apartment it opens on, but the pieces refuse to slot into place.
"He-Hello?"
no subject
He picks it off and goes to pour a cup of hot water, blue eyes looking up at the questioning call. Victor Nikiforov smiles and gives a little wave.
"Yuuri! You're awake. Morning tea?"
no subject
He squeaks in panic immediately and slams the door, leaning against the inside of it, trying not to go from hungover to panicking in the time it takes for the sound to fade.
He is in Victor's house.
He is in Victor's bedroom.
WHY is he in Victor's house/bedroom?
His head throbs and he wavers on his feet just a little bit, not sure if this is the point where he gets sick or not. Wait.
Wait.
Hungover. If he's hungover, he must have had alcohol. If he's had alcohol, then he must have gone to the party. And if he's here... Is it possible to die from mortification? Because, if so, that's how he's going to die, right here, hands pressed over his mouth and whole body pressed against Victor Nikiforov's bedroom door.
no subject
Still, it definitely will seem to Yuuri like the morning of a one night stand. He'll blink at the door being slammed in response. He'll pour another cup of tea and set the kettle down, wandering over to stand outside the door curiously.
"Yuuri, are you feeling alright? Can I come in?" It's his room.........
no subject
It plays on repeat, louder and louder in his head and everything else feels like it's a long way away, suddenly, even the pain in his head. He's all but naked. He's waking up in someone else's bed, all but naked. He's waking up with playboy Victor Nikiforov's bed and he doesn't know how he got here and--
He almost screams at Victor's voice right outside the door and stupidly looks around for a place to hide, which of course is not forthcoming, or even sensical.
"I..." he manages before his throat seizes up and he's still mostly pressed against the door, "...why am I...?" it's all he can manage. Nothing else is immediately forthcoming, but that might be enough to put the pieces together about at least part of what he doesn't remember from last night.
no subject
no subject
Yuuri's not feeling particularly reasonable.
"Where are my clothes? Or any clothes. Some clothes. Something," to his credit, he's trying very hard not to panic and is actually mostly succeeding. That this is him mostly succeeding is it's own issue.
no subject
Victor isn't the most thoughtful person ever, despite his attempts to be a good host.
"You're welcome to the shower. I'll get you something clean to borrow!"
no subject
"Okay," he manages, because he can't think of any other way out of this other than flinging himself out of the window and he's not even sure it opens. Taking a shower delays the amount of time until he has to deal with Victor. Maybe it will calm him down. Maybe this will all make sense. Maybe he will remember something that makes all of this make sense.
He flees into the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning on it breathing heavily, knowing that Victor will have heard that.
no subject
He'll go into the room and set the cups down at the bedside, going to his closet. Finding some yoga pants a soft sweater, he'll fold them up and leave them on the bed. Oh, right, he should get the man some clean underwear and socks, too. Yuuri might have some feelings about Victor letting him borrow his very own underwear, but Victor knows no better, it just seems polite.
Actually, he should get a shirt on, that was probably also polite. He gets a clingy v-neck for himself and yet he keeps with the shorts. Sorry, Yuuri, there's only so much modesty for this man to have.
no subject
Okay. So they either didn't... do any of those things or they did... something that wouldn't leave evidence. That doesn't narrow it down much, really, but he's really glad about that and there's a little sigh of relief.
After all, if he'd gotten to have sex with Victor Nikiforov he wanted to remember it.
The thought is true, but having it almost sends him into another panic spiral, so he stops thinking about it, chucks off his poor underwear and socks with more force than deserved and turns on the shower, instead, stepping into water that would normally be uncomfortably hot, but he feels a bit like scouring his own skin off at the moment, mostly in embarrassment.
no subject
You know what would be nice of him to do? Make breakfast. Yuuri would probably like that, he'd be starving after so much alcohol and so much sleep. He'll go back to the kitchen and start some omelettes.
no subject
Yuuri sort of sidles out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, peering out of the bathroom door suspiciously, but when it becomes clear that he's alone and there are clothes, he breathes a little sigh of relief. The shower has left him feeling a bit more clear-headed. He's still about two seconds away from panicking and he still feels like death warmed over, but he's at least a little more focused, now.
Which lasts until he realizes he's pulling on Victor's underwear and nearly has to run back to the bathroom with a nosebleed. He manages, though. The clothes hang loose on him and he thinks he looks ridiculous (he's actually adorable) but he manages to take a sip of the tea Victor's left for him and then a deep breath and to open the door and slink out into the apartment.
He's nearly silent as he heads to the sound of things banging around in the kitchen and he's still just woozy enough to let something completely impulsive and stupid tumble out of his mouth,
"Do you fix all of your one-night stands breakfast?" the tone's more playful than snide, thankfully, but he literally claps a hand over his mouth a moment later, "Sorry, I'm sorry, that was rude, I don't know why I asked--" there's a quick glance over at the bedroom door like he might just flee again, but it's too far to run with the hot tea.
no subject
Lucky for Yuuri, the comment makes Victor laugh softly and genuine.
"Only the ones I want to stick around," he'll throw a wink to Yuuri, "I hope you like veggie omelettes."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
After Errands
Once it's sorted out, Victor breathes a loud sigh of relief to not have to act so stuffy, leading them along to the grocery to let Yuuri pick up whatever he wanted for their dinner. The market will actually seem more familiar to Yuuri than Victor, who can't read the packaging of anything or communicate half as well with the staff as Yuuri can. There's plenty of authentic ingredients for a katsudon dinner, Victor will try to pay, but if Yuuri insists on picking up the tab with his newly returned wallet the older man won't fight it.
It's a good feeling to return to the familiar condo that night. Actually, it feels more... cozy and homely than Victor is used to. He notices the couch cushions and pillows are askew from being sat and rolled around on. He notices the dishes in the sink and the table half cleared. He notices how nice the entryway looks with their coats hung up in it and their shoes kicked off by the door. It's surreal for him, to have the space feel full with another person, not just himself and Makkachin.
"Wow! It's starting to feel like I've lived here," he jokes, making light of his own strange mood. He is going to miss Yuuri a lot, when he goes. He needs to enjoy this while it lasts...
no subject
He gets simple things, more just stuff to make chicken katsu and some simple other food, umeboshii and rice, eggs and dashi cubes. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to make, exactly, so he maybe gets more than he normally would, too, but this is Victor who he desperately wants to impress, so a little extravagance is probably warranted.
(He doesn't fight very hard to pay, though he's a little embarrassed about the total.)
Yuuri has somehow held onto that mood from the cafe-- both softer and more sly-- through the entire shopping trip. He hardly recognizes himself, feels oddly light. He looks up when Victor says that, already putting things in the refrigerator and just kind of making himself at home. It's weirdly easy to, not because of Victor, but because this space is almost like a hotel. He grins, somewhat sheepishly,
"I'm a bit of a mess, sorry," two days ago, he would be serious. Now, it's clear it's at least half a joke.
no subject
"Because to me, you're just right," mess or not, Victor wants Yuuri no other way than how he is.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Like in the cafe, it's not even wholly sexual, though it's certainly not divorced from it either, it just feels like something's shaken loose inside him and all he can want is more. He's not wholly unused to that feeling, either-- he's certainly felt it on the ice before. But this part is new, this other person, this bodywarmth, this feeling like, at least in this moment, he can have what he wants. And what he wants is to step back into the line of Victor's body and tilt his head back in a way that's hopefully inviting enough for a kiss.
no subject
"You want a kiss?"
no subject
But before Victor can really react to that, he's suddenly stepped back out of his arms, not a retreat, but more like a dance move, though no particular one comes to mind. It's just a perfectly balanced little spin of a movement that puts him out of reach for a moment and then back in, so that he can go back to pressing his back against Victor's chest again, like they were.
Except his fingers catch Victor's and he's drawing his hand up to his mouth, lips brushing softly against the line on his wrist, the same one he'd been teasing earlier in the cafe,
"Do you?" he teases back, his tone low and dark. Yuuri's still not good at saying dirty things, but he's picked up how to purr out ordinary words into something filthy extraordinarily fast.
no subject
He sneaks his face in close, almost like he'd go for a kiss right then, but misdirects, dropping lower. His lips press to Yuuri's spotted neck, open mouthed, licking along a hickey left their first night together. He could freshen it up, make it new again, but he just presses a forceless kiss there. They're so close, he hopes to feel Yuuri shiver from it.
no subject
His whole body shudders to the press of Victor's mouth on his neck, the delicate tracing of a tongue and his head falls to the side easily, inviting more of the same.
"Groceries... we haven't..." but it's very clear from the tone that if Victor pulls away now, he's going to murder him.
no subject
"What, I'm not distracting you, am I?"
no subject
"Mm. How could I not be?" he tries to sound cross, but his voice is still kind of purring out of him, lower than normal and it's just breathless instead.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)