emberossing | for wauuu

"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.

"What, do you want to now?" Remarkably. Casual.

"WHAT?" he does actually drop the fork this time, but it just clatters to the plate. And once again, it's the surreality of all of this, how unsettled he is, always off-balance, along with the still present hungover feeling, and his mouth is running away again, "You can't just ask someone that!"

"Am I just supposed to guess?" That sounds kind of rapey, Victor ain't about that.

"What? No. No. But you can't just... we're eating," technically Yuuri has barely eaten, actually. And that's not really the issue here, either. "And I don't remember last night so it's kind of like we just met. I mean, I know who you are, of course, but I don't think that really counts and--" and he shoves a bite of omelette into his mouth just to shut himself up.

"Okay, okay," Victor chuckles, practically giggles, even. "I don't mean to harass you, enjoy your food, please."

The almost giggle strikes something off in Yuuri and he can't help but find himself grinning sort of helplessly, first then laughing a little himself, lower and more subdued.

"This whole situation is the strangest thing that's ever happened to me," he says, still kind of grinning, after another bite of omelette.

It's weird to realize he's actually... kind of having fun. The whole situation is so weird (and, if he's honest, so is Victor) that there's nothing for his anxiety to latch into. Or rather, it keeps trying to latch into everything and so it can't sink deep into any one thing.

"Not a hook-up kind of guy, huh?" Victor will ask, even though, well... Yuuri made a lot of drunken admissions. He never had any lovers, he was still a virgin... he wanted Victor to be his first. This might sound like the sad ramblings of a desperate loser, but Yuuri had this sensual confidence that drew Victor in completely. The younger man made it sounds like some kind of prize he'd been saving just for Victor.

He fell for it. He fell for all of it.

He's not sure if that's more embarrassing than Yuuri's admissions.

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