emberossing | for wauuu

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.

It's a really good thing Yuuri can't read Victor's mind. If he knew for a fact that his current state was disappointing compared to last night, he might actually do something drastic to get out of the apartment. As it is, though, Yuuri actually laughs to that and shakes his head,

"Definitely not," his cheeks are a little pink. And yet... he hadn't actually said no at any point when Victor was asking about it, just been flustered. "But uh, it's not that really. I mean, it's ah... not the first time I've woken up somewhere I didn't recognize. I'm in college," the flush deepens. He doesn't really elaborate, though, takes another deliberate bite of his omelette instead.

Disappointment wasn't really the word, even if Yuuri could read his mind. There was an intense kind of intrigue he felt, at the change. It was surprising and was there... really anything better than that?

"Sounds fun! You were the life of the party, last night, I'm sure everybody likes to go out with you."

"I wish I could remember any of it," his smile is a little sad, "It sounds like fun. I'm... not always much good at fun at the best of times and this isn't... really that..." He takes a sip of his tea because if he thinks about why that is, he's going to add to all of the rest of this awkward by crying on Victor. So he drags his mind away from that and back to anything at all else and finds something else totally unexpected falling out of his mouth.

"You know... it's weird. I always imagined you'd be different from the magazines and the interviews and all that, but you're not really. And here you're the one with the weird impression of me."

"You're an interesting man, Yuuri! The differences between last night and this morning, they've made entirely fascinated by you. One surprise after the other!"

"Fascinated? By me?" he blushes, looks down at the last of the omelette, "I'm... definitely not used to hearing something like that." Once he gets home, he tells his heart, which is suddenly trying to escape his chest, once he gets home he'll freak out about this properly. About Victor Nikiforov saying something like that to him.

He wants to reject it outright, but it's too nice of a fantasy. He can pretend at least a bit longer that Victor means it, right? No one's going to blame him for that.

Yuuri's hesitance to consider the compliment is interesting, usualy performers were more... egotistical. Victor was certainly guilty of that, but he tried to have humility, not let it get to his head, even if he accepted praise without question.

"If you don't believe me, I'll have to prove it to you!" a goofy kind of grin, nearly ear-to-ear, eyes sparkly with enthusiasm.

"Tell me about yourself, I'm dying of curiosity."

"Myself? I... " he fumbles around, trying to find even one thing about himself worthy of telling to Victor. "Uh..." he takes a sip of his tea, but it's clear that the ebb and flow of his nerves is returning a bit, "I don't know if there's anything interesting about me. What do you want to know?"

"Hmm," Victor will tap a finger to his lip, considering "How long have you been skating?"

"Since I was pretty little, but I didn't really get serious about it until--" Yuuri's eyes go wide, because he really shouldn't finish that and he flushes, taking a sip of his tea. "Um." He manages, articulately.

"Is it embarrassing?" Victor gives that little giggle of a laugh again. Having finished his omelette, but not wanting to take his attention from Yuuri, he's still sitting attentively. His head rested in one hand. "I'll tell you an embarrassing story, if it is. That's fair, right?"

Weirdly, he finds himself wanting to confess. He knows he's going to hate himself forever for doing this, is going to look back on this and kick himself for the rest of his life for being so stupid, but he's here now, and maybe Victor's just doing all this to be kind, not because he really cares, but whatever. Yuuri's already pretty much decided he's leaving skating so what does it matter?

"I don't know," he manages, "It's pretty embarrassing," but he takes a deep breath, lets it out with a little quirk to the side of his mouth, almost self-deprecating, "I have a friend back home. Yuuko-san. She was way more into ice skating than I was when we were little. She knew about all the skaters, even the up-and-coming ones, read all the magazines. I kind of thought it was silly. It wasn't like any of us were ever going to be competitive figure skaters, you know? It was just a kids hobby, like how some kids play violin, or the piano," he's getting into the story now, looking down into his tea as he remembers,

"She finally got me to watch this bootleg tape she got from someone in America through some kind of mailing list or something. I don't even know where she got these things, it wasn't like you could look someone up on YouTube quite yet, when we were little. Or maybe some people could, but not in Hasetsu. The big competitions, you could see on TV, but the smaller ones she had to get the tapes for. I didn't know why she was so excited to get the Junior World Championships on tape but she was almost glowing about it," he's rambling, more words than he says at a time even when he's hanging out with Phichit, but it's really avoidance, because at some point he's going to have to finish the thought. Oh well, he's come this far, right?

"It was your debut year," he forces out, cheeks darkening, but he can't help but look up, try to judge the reaction, even though he also wants to hide.

(He is, of course, totally unaware that it's extremely fetching.)

It's a good look, this hesitant confession thing Yuuri has going on. Victor is pretty into it, leaning in just subtly with curious eyes. Yuuri clearly ended up putting a lot of time and effort into being a professional skater, he wouldn't make it to the Grand Prix in the first place if he hadn't taken it more seriously than a kids hobby.

Where Victor missteps is not thinking this is a story about him and Yuuri discovering him, but thinking it's about some girl he loves. Maybe he was the "gay when drunk" type, Victor really isn't sure what to expect.

"You both liked that performance, I assume. Did she become a figure skater, too?"

"She did. I think she's probably one of your biggest fans, honestly. That's why she got the tape. She's really good," it's pretty obvious that he's fond of her, at least. The smile is pretty, it's probably the most relaxed Victor's seen him, talking about her. "She's actually the one that taught me all of the basics-- she used to be miles ahead of me. She's always been so pretty on the ice. But, like I said. It was a hobby. It wasn't like any of us really wanted more than that. Except..." he trails off fiddling with his cup again, "I don't know. After that, it was... different, for me."

It's the closest he can come sober to admitting it, but in the flush, there are echoes of last night, the way that he'd talked, eyes over-bright, about sharing the same ice as Victor, specifically.

"What made it different? There's a lot of dedication to go professional, I know that very well. Nobody gets good as you are without a strong drive." Victor is hoping to draw more from Yuuri, if he was feeling so inclined to open up. There's an excitement to the duality of what he learned from the night prior and what he's finding out, now.

"Now I can't tell if you're just making fun of me or not," Yuuri says, quietly, looking down into his tea, "I don't want to think you are but..." he trails off for a moment, doesn't look up this time-- he's using up the last of whatever courage he found just to keep saying this, since apparently Victor's not getting it, and the only thing worse than the rejection of a confession is to have it misunderstood.

"I'd never seen anyone skate like that. Not at Ice Castle, not even on TV. You skated like everything else melted away. It was everything I wasn't..." he sinks his head into his hands all of a sudden, "Ugh, why am I even telling you this. You make me an omelette and I run my mouth at you in your kitchen about you being my idol. What's wrong with me."

He really would like to know the answer to that. He's really chatty. But there's just... something honest about Victor and it keeps disarming him. Ooooor... maybe his mouth just keeps running to try to save things and it just keeps getting worse, since he can't really physically run away, considering he's wearing borrowed clothing.

"I'm making fun of you, but only a little bit," Victor chuckles, light and breezy. He doesn't want Yuuri to find him cruel, but he definitely did like to tease.

He is painfully sincere to go on, "You're a very enchanting skater, if I inspired you, that's no small compliment!"

He should just take the compliment, most people would, but, oddly, it's more his pride that won't let him than his anxiety. It doesn't make itself known often, not explicitly, but it rears up at strange times.

"How would you know? You've only ever seen me eat ice," it's not quite mean, he's not really capable, but it's definitely a little sharper. "Yesterday was probably one of the worst skating disasters of my entire career. It wasn't anything to be proud of or enchanted by."

"You failed your jumps, sure, but your performance score was respectable," Victor sounds more analytical this time, considering what he saw through the lens of a fellow skater. "You have a real strength for high difficulty step sequences. Your body moves to the music with an unmistakable elegance. If I was your coach, I would focus on maximizing what you could get out of that side and let your jumps play second fiddle."

"The jumps aren't Celestino's fault," he's trying to ignore that little voice that reminds him that Victor has actually mentioned being his coach before in this conversation and wonder what any of that means. He needs a second to think about that, to properly freak out, to figure out how to run away from it because it makes his heart hurt a little with how much he wants and had never even considered that. "I'm consistent in practice." He puts his head down on his arms next to the tea, "I just choke at competitions all the time. This time it was just the worst because I..."

Maybe Victor recognizes the difference in his voice, maybe he doesn't, but this doesn't sound like hesitance from before. This actually sounds like he's actively trying not to cry.

The quiver in Yuuri's voice is unmistakable. Victor just sort of blurts out what comes to mind,

"I'm really awful around crying," he's apologetic to say this, a little frantic to be gracious, "but Makkachin isn't! If you like dogs, you could bury your face in him and let it out. He's in my room, I've probably cried on him a thousand times." The dog was in Victor's bedroom, occasionally pawing the at door with a dull thud. Victor wasn't sure if Yuuri liked dogs, so the poodle was locked away for now.

Every now and then, you get something just perfect with another human being, and it's clear that's exactly what Victor's just done. Yuuri holds himself together pretty admirably actually, doesn't just dissolve into tears at the reminder that Makkachin exists, which he really ought to be given a medal for, alone. It's probably for the best that he hasn't been reminded earlier.

He looks up and his eyes have gone all kind of sparkly between the tears and the gratefulness. It's a surprisingly good look for him, like Victor has literally just handed him the moon. He manages a little shaky nod, because he's not sure he trusts his voice, but then Victor off-handedly mentions that he's cried on Makkachin before, a lot, and somehow, that's enough of a slice of humanity to break through the feeling like he'll cry if he speaks,

"I'll explain later but... yes, I think that would really help. Thank you," it's overly polite, but it's clear he's more like that because he's just trying to get from this point to that one without falling apart.

"Go right ahead, long as you need," Victor points to his bedroom, which Makkachin is clearly pacing behind based on the shadow on the bottom crack of the door. Yuuri had a devastating defeat, was thinking he should quit, woke up confused and forgot the night prior-- Victor's fine accomodating for him. Yuuri can have a private breakdown cuddled up with a warm and attentive friend like Makkachin, free of feeling judged by his idol.

Victor would much rather pass it off on the dog to deal with. He feels like if Yuuri cried in front of him, the man will just end up more humiliated and upset. Part of him really does hope to salvage their meeting into something positive, maybe even romantic, but Yuuri clearly needed some time and space before that would be possible. The older man will busy himself with cleaning the dishes and doing some laundry until Yuuri is feeling better.

Yuuri head off that way gratefully and, though he at least tries to keep it quiet, he cries for a good long time, buried in the dog's fur.

It's probably longer than Victor is expecting, if only because Yuuri actually ends up dozing off a little afterwards, cuddled up with the poodle. Look, he's had a long day already.

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