emberossing | for wauuu

Alone in the bathroom with the door locked, which seems more reasonable than locking Victor out of his bedroom, if that was even a thing he could have done, Yuuri gets a moment while the water warms up to try to sort through things again. Everything still comes up blank. But he does finally realize that his underwear are still on and they're not sticky. In fact, nowhere that would make sense for... he can't even think the word sex, really... but he's not sticky in any of those places, either.

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.

Victor will take his cup of tea and return to the kitchen, after leaving the clothes out for Yuuri on the bed. He'll flip on some lights so the condo isn't so dark and creepy looking. There's actually a lot of lighting, Victor had a love affair with having too many lamps, something he joked about in his magazine interview. Something about a "no filter" instagram joke going too far and becoming an actual preference for good light in his selfies.

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.

In a lot of ways, Victor is kind of bad at this, but in some others he's pretty perfect.

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.

Victor perks up as Yuuri emerges from the room, watching him cross out to the kitchen. He looks very cute all dressed in his clothes, however casual they may be. The stretchy yoga pants, a bit too long and crumpled at the ankles, the oversized sweater that covered down to the man's butt. Victor wants to take a picture, maybe he'll ask later.

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."

Yuuri is going to explode.

He flushes at the wink, the words, the easy way Victor laughs. Something sticks in his chest and there's that feeling like he can't breathe again, except this one isn't wholly unpleasant.

"I've never had one. They look good," he feels like maybe he can drift a tiny bit closer, get maybe a little more comfortable, while Victor's got his attention on someone else. So there's another sip of tea and another deep breath before he just kind of blurts out,

"I don't remember anything about last night," he flushes immediately and looks down into the tea, but it seems important to get out, "I don't know how I got here, or even how I got to... I presume the banquet?" he looks at Victor for confirmation on that, even. He can't imagine where else they would have run into each other, "So... uh... sorry..." he's completely red. He knows that a lot of the other skaters are friends, that some of them hook up after events, but he's never done any of that, so he's not sure what to do now that it's apparently somewhat happened.

At the comment about never had one, Victor almost teased with a one night stand? Instead, he let the thought die with another quiet laugh as Yuuri went on. Didn't remember anything? Well, no wonder he was acting so alarmed!

"Wow!" he'll exclaim, looking over his shoulder to the ever closer Yuuri, "You drank maybe three bottles of champagne, so I knew you were drunk. I wasn't sure if you were blacked out, considering how lively you acted!"

If he wants Yuuri talking in coherent sentences, it's probably a good thing he doesn't tease like that...

Though the way he does tease is bad enough, really, though Victor may not even be aware of it. Because it would have been a hell of a lot easier to just take him back to his own room at the hotel from the party, if Victor had just found him wandering around drunk or something. Which means that's also not what happened.

"How I... acted?" the flush is starting to deepen again, and he doesn't run away, which is an improvement, but he does set the tea down to bury his head in his hands, "Oh no... I... did something really stupid, didn't I? My dad's like that too. We get really wild when we're drunk and... please tell me I didn't-- no wait, don't tell me what I did, I don't want to know. No... I do want to know so I know if I need to apologize to anyone... oh god..."

It's probably a good idea to interrupt him, or this monologue is just going to continue forever, sorry.

"I'm not sure you need to apologize to anybody! Except, maybe, Chris? You nearly dropped him six foot off a pole." sorry, what was that about getting coherent sentences from Yuuri?

"Off a... pole?" sorry, is that English, actually? Maybe that's some kind of Russian euphemism he's not aware of?

Nope, he means it quite literally.

"You both stripped and hopped on a stripper pole. It was really very impressive!"

Wait. What?

"Wait... WHAT?" it's a good thing he's not holding the tea still because if he was, Victor would be down one mug. "I don't even know how to pole dance and I got on one with Christophe of all people? Oh my god my life is over," he buries his head in his hands. Maybe he can just sink through the floorboards and die. That would really be preferable.

He completely misses the "impressive" part.

"Well, I definitely can't go back to the ice now," he mutters, not really knowing that this time he's possibly the one lobbing an unexpected conversation grenade.

Victor will be casually getting some plates and sliding the first omelette onto one. He'll put a fork into it and slide it in front of Yuuri's slump figure. Cracking some more eggs for himself.

"What are you so upset about? You've got a great chance to advance your career with this. A scandal where you look really good is the dream!"

"My career?" Yuuri looks up from between his fingers, and there's something different in his tone, almost anger, for just a second, though it just melts into incredulity in the next, "I don't have a career. Did you even look at the scores? How am I even supposed to skate after this?" He stares down at his omelette, finds his manners almost reflexively,

"Thank you, this looks good." It sounds distracted, but genuine.

"You're a dramatic one!" Victor laughs, breezy as he sprinkles some mushroom and chopped zucchini in his omelette. "Even if you choked at the Grand Prix, you still made it there! Your season is far from over, if you don't crack at Nationals." He'll hum, reaching for his tea to sip.

"And even if you did, there's next season. Everybody likes watching a comeback."

Siiiip.

"Nationals..." he picks at his omelette. Just the thought of going back out there, makes him kind of want to dissolve into tears. He chokes it down. Now is definitely not the time or place. Some of it's probably in his tone anyway, though.

"Do people like watching the same person run into the same wall over and over. Because that's what they'll be watching," he does finally take a bite and blinks, "Is there anything you don't do well?" And again, he immediately realizes what he's said after he's said it and turns bright red, "Sorry, don't answer that. I don't know what's gotten into me. Thank you for the food."

Had he already thanked him? He's not sure.

"You're hungover and upset at yourself, I understand." Victor says this with a gentle sincerity. They were competitors, it felt terrible to achieve something like a spot at the Grand Prix, only to miss your shot, so to speak. He'll flip his own omelette over, folding it in on the veggies to finish frying.

"It's nothing fancy, I think I googled the recipe a couple years ago. Yakov would make me swallow a raw egg for breakfast, if I forgot to eat before practice. Not fun."

Yuuri can help but grin-laugh a little at that,

"That sounds awful," but he can also picture it and he's suddenly surprised all over again by being here, eating omelettes in Viktor Nikiforov's kitchen. His fork shakes just a little at that. Because he's still not sure this is real, not sure what he's doing here. But Viktor seems more weirdly real than anything in the last 48 hours has been. He feels like he's been living in a weird dream and this is him waking up and it turns things so strange that his anxiety can't quite keep up.

He clenches his hand on the fork a little and forces another bite into his mouth, another,

"I'm thinking of quitting," he says suddenly, because it's everything in his head and he just needs to speak it out loud and all of this is ridiculous and why is he telling his hero this? Except somehow, maybe that's exactly who he needs to tell and why. Well, not all of why. All I ever wanted to do was skate on the same ice as you and I screwed it up and I may never get another chance. Yeah. Even Yuuri's not that dumb.

"This was... worse than usual, for a lot of reasons. But I'm always a mess at competitions. I would have quit a long time ago but... it's the only place I feel alive, you know? On the ice. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I should just finish my breakfast and get out of here. But I guess it doesn't really matter if I--" nope, he can't finish that. It's too close to the thing he was definitely NOT going to say.

Victor is taking his omelette a plate for himself and flipping off the stove burner. He'll set down the pan and pick up his meal, beginning to cut a piece off when he abruptly cuts off Yuuri. There's an almost childish disappointment in his voice, like he maybe had his hopes up.

"But you wanted me to be your coach!"

"I... what?" it's a surprisingly gentle reaction, mostly because he cannot actually believe he just heard that. He's starting to turn red again.

Weirdly, though, even so, it's a lot more gentle of a response than previous, like maybe, he wants that to be real.

"Oh, right, right... sorry! You don't remember." Victor will put some omelette in his mouth, before gesturing Yuuri to sit at the counter with him. He'll grab his tea and go to settle in, still facing the other man, "you got on this big tangent about wanting to quit, but how you wanted to keep skating on the same ice as me. Then Chris said skating my ice isn't all that great and you... I guess, defended my honor, might be the phrase?" Victor chuckles around another forkful, swallowing before continuing.

"You two git into a dance off to decide it," Maybe he shouldn't mention how naked they both got... he'd see the pictures later, surely, "you asked if I'd be your coach next season! Well, if you won..."

Oh god, he did actually say the whole "same ice as me" thing. He seriously wants to die... which makes him remarkably easy to settle at the counter if Viktor's willing to tug him a little, though otherwise he's forgotten the counter exists.

"Did I?" he manages to croak out, overly high-pitched. "... win?" he chokes out a little further.

"I sure didn't take Chris home with me!"

L A U G H.

Victor is a very lucky man. Mostly, at the moment, because Yuuri didn't have anything in his mouth at the time, or he would have just spit-taked all over the kitchen and probably also over Victor. He can't even formulate a response to that. He can only STARE, with his eyes huge.

It's actually really only now that it finally hits Yuuri that Victor did, in fact, bring him home with him. Not back to the hotel room, which would have been easier. Not back with his coach, who surely had to have still been there, probably shaking his head in disgust. He's eating something he cooked. He's wearing his clothes. He's been aware of these things for some time now, of course, but they wash over him in a completely different light all of a sudden.

"Does that..." no, he can't force out Does that mean you're my coach?. "Did you..." no, no he can't really ask Did you bring me here to have sex with me either, that's even worse. And clearly in either case, Victor thought he was talking to last night's Yuuri Katsuki, not this morning's. But those are really the only two things in the entire world he wants to know right now, so he kind of stalls out right there.

Victor chomps on his omelette and watches Yuuri's reactions. The man is very... cute and different, in the calm and quiet light of the morning. There's a hesitance he utterly lacked the night prior. It's honestly quite fascinating to witness the differences.

Also, the look and the did you makes him jump to one conclusion.

"Did we have sex? No, no, I sobered up by the time we got here and you fell asleep."

"Oh." In much the same way Victor had been unconsciously a little disappointed earlier, Yuuri isn't aware how disappointed he sounds in that one little "oh". Not because they haven't had sex! It's probably good that they haven't had sex! But there's that little I sobered up by the time we got here and the only place Yuuri's mind can take that is that Victor wouldn't have done it if he weren't drunk, too.

Which means this, all of this, is likely just because he's nice enough to try to make friends with someone this pathetic. It's probably not anything real. Probably doesn't mean anything. And that bubble bursting hurts a surprising amount considering Yuuri slammed the bedroom door on Victor not an hour ago.

Of course, that doesn't stop it from sounding like he's disappointed they didn't have sex.

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