emberossing | for wauuu

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?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That works, I'll grab this one," he hums, pushing just a few odd strands back behind his ear. Food sounds suddenly entirely amazing, he hadn't even thought about breakfast, but going out for a warm drink and hearty lunch sounded divine.

"I know a nice cafe, right by here. I could really use a coffee, wow,"

"That sounds really good, honestly," there's a shy little smile, sweet and kind of romantic, even though they're being more matter of fact at the moment, both needing a little time not pulled totally out of their shells. But Yuuri's a little shy about going back out in public with Victor, too-- he knows that overnight, it's likely that there are a lot more people who have seen that photo of them kissing and the rumors are likely flying.

It says something about how calm he currently is that there's no panic to that thought.

"Chores and then we'll go out," he says, being as responsible as it seems is possible for a man like Victor. He'll shuffle off to get the sheets pulled off the bed and bundled up, leaving the hamper out for Yuuri to put the ones he cleaned up in. Makkachin needs breakfast and some cuddles, which Victor dutifully provides. Sunny as it was outside, they would still need to bundle up from the cold.

While they had been put away, there's still a crumpled quality to their jackets and scarves. It's a thrilling little reminder of how they could barely get themselves in the door the other day, collapsing at the entrance together. Victor looks a bit smug, but won't say anything over it, simply asking.

"Ready to go?"

It's clear from the pink in his cheeks that Yuuri's thinking about it too while he's putting on the scarf. It's even a little stronger for him, maybe, being in the entryway. After all, it's where he first said "I love you". He seems to be thinking about that now, because he doesn't answer right away, just gives Victor an unbearably sweet look and links his fingers with his for a moment.

This is a kind of romantically sweet that he isn't, normally, either, and not just because he's never had anyone to be like this with-- it's a genuinely rare mood. But he needs to acknowledge, somehow, what happened here last night and therefore also what happened at the rink. So he links their fingers and then just steps into Victor's arms for a moment, into an awkward-but-sweet hug.

He pulls back after a moment (which he takes a moment to savor) and then takes a deep breath and finally nods,

"I think if we wait any longer, they're going to hear my stomach back in Detroit," he teases, letting the moment fade away.

It is another, small, delightful surprise to Victor to get that little hug. He returns it, of course, but keeps it light as Yuuri initiated. Simple and then it's over, but those moments will stick with Victor. Kind of like the moment when Victor tested his plates for dust stuck with Yuuri, Victor is going to think about that contemplative and sentimental look. He feels like he knows Yuuri a little more than before, for having witnessed that.

"Should I be worried your stomach is louder than your moans? Unless you think Detroit heard those, already," yep, he's got to tease back, keep it light. Makkachin at his side, they can all go out to the cafe together, the dog very pleased to get some running around space free of the condo.

Yuuri's feeling just good enough to laugh at that, nudge into Victor's shoulder,

"Victor!," it's comfortable, scandalized and blushing, but playfully so and this mood won't last after they're out in the street and everyone is staring at them (or, again, Yuuri thinks everyone is staring at them) so he enjoys it while they're still in the relative safety of the condo.

He does seem to shrink down into himself a little bit when they're back out on the street, even with just a short walk to the cafe, turning quiet, a lot more of the person he seemed to be when he first woke up here than the one he's been since the kiss in the sauna. There's a notable change, though, not in his disposition, or his posture, which seems to be trying to shrink him down like he could somehow hide, but unless Victor tries to take his hand back, Yuuri keeps their fingers linked, which is new.

Laughing right along, he'll not tease that sort of thing when they're in public, he knows now that Yuuri is more touchy about that. Holding their hands close is the perfect, little outlet for their intimacy, not too much to be showing off. The cafe is cute and not too busy, they're allowed to sit inside with Makkachin it seems simply because the waitress wants to coo at the dog lovingly. It's nice that the poodle is the center of attention for once instead of them. Victor predictably orders a coffee, looking to Yuuri for his order, just saying "make it two" in Russian if he'd given too long a confused look.

"I just remembered, did you want to go to the asian market I mentioned? You mentioned wanted to cook that meal you love, sometime before you go,"

Yuuri speaks not a word of functional Russian, nor can he read any of it, so Victor needs to help him through his order. He doesn't normally drink a whole lot of coffee, either, but the whole thing results in an adorable level of flusteredness and blushing, rather than him wanting to crawl in a hole and die, which is an improvement. He also lets Victor order whatever food they're getting as well, because he definitely can't make heads or tails of that.

"Are you actually going to let me cook it?" he answers the question about dinner and he says it so innocently that it might take a minute for Victor to realize he's just made a sex joke. He's far more subtle about it than Chris would be, certainly.

It's pretty surprising to hear that kind of joke from Yuuri, let alone in public. It makes sense to be subtle, though, considering. Victor is less subtle, even though he's maybe trying a little.

"Just don't wear an apron, I'm not sure I could resist that,"

Yuuri flushes and ducks his head, embarrassed and laughing, shying away from the joke, now.

Or well, it seems that way. But after a pause, he says,

"Why? Do you have one?" also deadpan. Anyone listening just to tone would think Victor was being rebuffed slightly, but Victor knows enough about Yuuri now to know that he's thinking about it.

"Hahaa, I actually don't!" he chuckles into the curve of his finger. He knows that look by now, he's caught on to this reaction.

"A gift you could give me sometime," he's purposefully making that sound like either the apron itself, Yuuri wearing the apron, or both would be the gift.

"Hmm, we'll see," he says, but there's a little gleam in his eyes that says that's definitely a thing that's happening at some point.

Yuuri seems a lot shyer this morning than he has been, particularly considering how they woke up, but there's definitely something different about him, a tension that's absent even as he's clearly retreating a little more into his shell now that they're in public and he's having a minute to process the morning. He doesn't seem like he's hiding, really, just readjusting back towards what must be normal, since he's saying what he's been doing hasn't been.

Still, he keeps looking at Victor like he's his entire world. There's no way to miss how infatuated he is.

They are the obnoxiously in love people in the cafe. Victor realizes this fully when the waitress drops off their coffee and he barely catches her with a Спасибо, almost missing her entirely. Very little else seems to exist when Yuuri is looking at him like that. All the romantic language and cheesy descriptions of love suddenly seem to make sense, how this feeling could captivate a person completely with it's intensity. How it's somehow difficult to describe and yet people have always tried their damnedest to anyways. The silence between them is comfortable, adoring, and Victor has to joke about that look of Yuuri's.

"So loud, that smile. You'll make a scene."

"You... seem like the kind of person who would want to cause a scene," Yuuri says, but there's something just the tiniest bit hesitant in his tone. He's making progress-- he doesn't suddenly start doubting literally everything like he might have a few days ago, but it's clear that he can't wholly tell whether or not Victor is joking.

He manages to keep it light, though, to not destroy the mood.

"If I get to see that smile more, than of course," he's flirting it up, so it's a little joking, but mostly sincere. Yuuri is cute, the cutest, and he wants to show the man in praise and affection if it will please him. If it's too much, he hopes he'll know to back off, though he's not the most perceptive sort. He'll learn in time. Blowing on his coffee, he'll take a hesitant sip before realizing it's a good temperature, drinking down a hearty amount with a purring mmmm. It's not pitch black, but it's certainly strong, heavy on the brew and the cream mixed in.

Yuuri flushes and looks down into his own coffee, but it's clear he's pleased.

Maybe somewhere else, some other time, some place where he had the space to run away and things hadn't been so intense, he would be slower to open up. Maybe he still will be, once this comes to an end. But right now, at least, he's been cracked open like an egg and there's really no such thing as "too much". It's good, to not really doubt all the time.

He sips at the coffee and it's maybe a little stronger than he'd normally take it, but it's good and he sips almost delicately at it.

"I don't think causing a scene would usually make me happy," he plays back, tone a little more wry, but he somehow finds the courage to shift slightly and press his ankle against Victor's under the table. Something so simple shouldn't be scandalous, but the way he blushes about doing it turns it a little that way.

"I'd hate to spoil your good mood," he'll shift his leg right back against Yuuri. It's not really sensual, it's kind of hilariously juvenile to play footsies under the table, but Victor enjoys it non-the-less. It felt like a foolish, teenage romance; something Victor never actually had when he was the age for it. Ten years late, but he doesn't really mind, thinking better late than never. The food arrives at their table swiftly, not needing much preparation considering it's a small cafe. Two sandwiches with crispy, airy bread brie cheese and thin cut slices of green apples inside. There's also a cup of steaming soup along with each, two different flavors so they could trade if Yuuri happened to not like his.

Yuuri is quiet, now, but it's a peaceful kind of quiet. He'll play along with the conversation, if Victor starts one, but he's mostly content to just be for a little while, after everything's been so break-neck, particularly with a warm cup of coffee to wrap his hands around and some heavy soup.

He just keeps staring, though, catching himself and then sliding back into it again. He still can't believe he's here, that this is real and happening to him. And soon, the staring has blushes associated with it. He'd tied this man to the headboard of his own bed. He'd fucked him in the shower. He's had his tongue inside him. Surely everyone can see, can't they, how much they've had their hands all over one another?

It's still nothing bad, but Yuuri's suddenly looking down a lot more, flushing more and more brightly the more the morning, the past few days, catch up to him.

The two are riddled with evidence of what they've been getting up to. Victor's wrists are still ringed with red, peeking out from his sweater when he reached for his coffee. There's his broken lip, which he carefully avoids with the cup up to his mouth. The hickies cover both their necks, it's at least no so obvious with then both bundled up in scarves and coats. They really did a beautiful number on each other, leaving all manner of marks.

Luckily, there's nobody who seems to recognize them in the cafe. The only people who look over are distracted by Makkachin smiling dopey and wagging his tail at anybody he sees. Knowing Victor though, he'd be happy to show off the marks both on him and that he left, shameless and unabashed. It's a courtesy to hide them, to not embarrass Yuuri, who already acted so shy over a simple photo of them kissing.

He enjoys the silence set by Yuuri, people watching a little, but mostly looking fondly over at Yuuri. The shy staring back and the increasing redness of his cheeks makes him want to ask what he's thinking, but he leaves it, assumes he knows it's belief sinking in now that they've stopped grabbing at each other for half a second. It's nice to just enjoy a meal together, Victor cooing over his potato soup in particular, which was incredibly well seasoned and refreshingly smooth. He offers it over for Yuuri, insisting he try it.

Shy is such a strange word when associated with Yuuri. It's certainly how he's learned to think of himself, what other people say about him. Reserved might be a better one. Scared, if one was feeling less than generous. There's a part of him that wants to take off the scarves and curl into Victor's side and post something on Instagram, a picture of the two of them wrecked and domestic and put some kind of internet-breaking tags on it. There's a part of him that is screaming at him that all he's made for the past few days are bad decisions that are going to haunt him. There's a part of him that's just screaming, giddy and overwhelmed. There's a part of him that, although he's lived in Detroit long enough to pick up a number of American habits and mannerisms and norms, is aware that they're really doing the Japanese equivalent of making out in the booth, the way they're so openly wrapped up in each other. It's embarrassing.

He doesn't particularly want to stop.

Maybe that's why when Victor offers him some soup, he just kind of leans a little forward, expectantly. He'll take the soup and get his own spoonful of it if Victor doesn't immediately take the hint, but if Victor wants, Yuuri lets him feed him a bite. In public. He turns more the color of tomato soup than potato, but he does it.

Victor is keen, he'll take that hint with a wry smile. He's careful and casual, feeding Yuuri the spoonful, intent to watch the utensil slide in and back out of the man's mouth. They should not be allowed out in public, it's too much between them or it feels that way. Nobody else even notices, but the idea that they might is a ridiculous turn on. Victor's so tired that he's not about to get physically aroused again soon, but he's definitely committing the moment to memory. Yuuri's flush of embarrassment following the action, included.

"Good, isn't it?" coy bastard...

Oh Victor, you should know by now that Yuuri's never going to be easy to predict.

He's flushed bright red, looks a bit like he's going to flee at any second, even though they both know by now he's not, like it's taking every ounce of his will to lean that little bit forward and eat the soup and not just hide somewhere. And he is really embarrassed and wishing he could fall through the ground. He's just other things too.

Victor makes that comment and Yuuri's eyes snap up to his and there's a moment of slight shock, like he can't believe Victor's saying that, but it melts into a more heated look, and then there's a tiny flash of pink tongue as he licks a (probably imaginary) bit of soup off his lips,

"It's perfect," it comes out maybe a little more husky than even he intends, with how wrecked both their voices are.

Every moment with Yuuri is a surprise and that's apart of what has Victor so enraptured with the other man. What should be a mundane cafe lunch date is already sticking in his mind as something spectacular and thrilling. He's so annoyed with himself for being tired out, if he had even an ounce more energy then Yuuri would be tempted into the bathroom with him for some even more daring fun. It's for the better, that he can't push them into another crazy situation, but also ridiculous it's even coming to mind. What is Yuuri doing to him? He's thinking like Chris...

"Have as much as you'd like," ...he's talking pretty similar too, whoops. Maybe they'll calm down the innuendo one day, but not today.

Yuuri is weirdly goading like that. He'd seemed like he was going to die, or at least hyperventilate, when the fan took that photo of their quick, fleeting kiss, far more than was necessary. But then there was that moment on the ice and this moment, here, where he really does give the impression that if Victor wanted to have sex right here in the booth, he wouldn't stop him. Surely reason would reassert itself at some point, but it certainly doesn't seem like it.

Yuuri takes the spoon from Victor's fingers and feeds himself a bite of Victor's soup and Victor couldn't see his eyes when they were having sex in the shower a few minutes prior, but surely they looked a little like that. The look is fleeting, before he's flushing and looking down, but it's intensely possessive.

"Careful, I might eat all of it." He hands the spoon back a moment later, though, and it's starting to become clear that he's holding back incredulous laughter, emotions still all over the place.

"I'd gladly let you!" Victor says, leaning in to give Yuuri a quick peck to the cheek. Simple as the gesture is, the mood between them buzzes with energy that's less than chaste. Again, it's a good thing the place is busy, they blend in like any other couple, Makkachin making more of an impression than they do. He's reaching to try Yuuri's soup with a knowing grin, letting a low and pleased sound escape him that says very good.

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