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?"

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Leaning onto an arm, he'll rest his chin in his hand, admiring that smile on Yuuri's face again. He could sigh and it would look no different than a swooning teenager, but his expression isn't naive as that. Victor might keep his cards up his sleeves, wanting to hold onto possible surprises, but right now he's wearing his heart out in the open... right beside the red marks on his wrists.

"They're both amazing! Do you like the sandwich, too? I think it's very refreshing,"

He nods to that, takes a bite of his before he answers,

"It's really good. Do you eat here a lot?" It's the truth, but his mouth is on auto-pilot. It's starting to itch under his skin, how close Victor is while still being entirely too far away. He's really not sure if even his stamina can handle another round and he's not sure if his emotions can handle anything as intense as all of their sex seems to get. But that certainly isn't stopping him from wanting, all the same. He's maybe rubbing his ankle just a little against Victor's, unnoticeable to anyone else, under the table.

But while it's subtle, there's no hiding the way he almost absently reaches out and traces one of those lines on Victor's wrists the next time he reaches for something. The touch looks casual, but the look he's giving Victor isn't.

"Whenever I'm in town," he'll answer, equally casual and thoughtless. It feels strange to enjoy the mundane talking between them. Instead of the meaningless stuff being most of their conversation, the important parts punctuating, it's just the opposite. It seems like nearly everything they do toward one another is pointed, memorable. The nothing words, the pleasantries, are what stick out more. Victor's never felt that before, he's not sure they can maintain this, but he doesn't want to settle in just yet. He wants this intensity while it lasts, they can relax later...

His hand tenses as the touch surprises him, somehow. Body and nerves are left so sensitive that even the little poke of soreness sends a shiver through him. Looking to the red rings on his wrists, which peek out at them between his short gloves and sweater sleeve, it's another reminder of how much they've done together. Yuuri gets a mockishly scandalized look in response, Victor scolding the man with a funny gasp of a whisper.

"You behave,"

There's no way, even as far as Yuuri's come with Victor in the past few days, that he can maintain this particular headspace for very long-- not in Russia, not in public. It's fragile, but it exists, and while it exists, his hand shifts and instead of the light, almost curious touch, there's a deliberate rub of his thumb across the inside of Victor's wrist, firmer. The look he gives him is not appropriate for public.

"No." It's simple. Like many things the past few days, it's also intensely complex, the first time Yuuri's used that word in days to something Victor's asked him. It's clear the play there is intended from the way his lips quirk. He holds the moment for just that, a moment, and then unless Victor has suddenly just dragged him away to the bathroom anyway, he lets it fade, slides his hand back to take another bite of his soup, a playful sort of laugh taking up residence in his expression instead of the scorching look a moment before.

That sounds just like the sexy, drunken, dream boy he met at the banquet. Victor swoons for it, Yuuri easily wrapping him around his finger. Quiet, uncharacteristically small for a man who seemed bigger than life, Victor will respond adoringly.

"You terrify me," and he loves it.

Yuuri blushes and ducks his head, taking an almost sheepish bite of his soup and for anyone else, that would definitely be read as a retreat. Hell, it is a bit of a retreat. But there's no stammered apology, no panicked taking it back, no tension at all.

He terrifies Victor Nikiforov.

And he's okay with that.

For now. For now. Always for now. But even just as part of this moment that keeps seeming more fragile by the moment (and all the more charming for it) it's a huge, huge step for him and he's once again caught marveling at how much Victor has been able to change him, even if the change ends up being temporary.

"Good," he says, and it's with a little smile, not coy this time, but sweet, in love. Good, he says, and he means something like because I'm also terrified and because love is terrifying and because I like knowing I'm not alone. It shouldn't be quite so sweet, given the context and the conversation, but it just... is. No one wears adoration on his face quite so prettily as Yuuri does.

He's most pleased that Yuuri seems to understand what he means by that. Yuuri is a force, unpredictable in the best ways, and he's made Victor care about him. The care is the kind that will hurt to lose and they both know it by now. When Yuuri has to go, when they both break from this fantasy and return to their lives as they were only a couple days before, there's going to be a sting of loss. If Yuuri decides to never speak to Victor again after this, it'll be much more than a sting. Victor doesn't want to think too much on that. He wants to trust Yuuri, his heart is open and vulnerable, to cherish what this all was even once it's not their whole worlds. This isn't something Victor has ever allowed, been to guarded and self motivated to sincerely put his feelings in the hands of another person.

That is terrifying, but a risk he's willing to take, because Yuuri has so thoroughly enchanted him. They've had too much fun and shared too much of themselves for him to reconsider. He leans in to finish up his own soup and sandwich, eating in adoring silence if Yuuri doesn't speak up between his own bites. Between a full stomach and a warm coffee, Victor's got some life back in him.

There's a good chance he's going to look back on this conversation, wonder if he misread everything, and have an anxiety attack about it. But in the moment, he understands perfectly.

Adoring silence is the perfect term for what settles between them, though there's still a bit of heat there, soft and banked, but present. Yuuri gives the impression that he'd be curled up with Victor if he could, stealing bites and sharing body heat. In some ways, this is more amazing than how much he's opened up sexually. He's not like this with other people, has never just been able to sit in a cafe and be in someone's presence and nothing else. He has always been a person prone to quiet moments, but only alone, only where he feels safe.

This is the last place in the world he should feel safe-- a foreign country, his idol, the situation that led to this-- but there's something about dealing with the worst possible situation that forces trust and Victor has taken what Yuuri has had to give him and shown he can be trusted with far, far more than that.

(He wonders a little, how long it would have taken in more ordinary circumstances, if Victor had had to wait for Yuuri to decide to trust him all on his own. He thinks it would have taken a lot longer.)

So this is vulnerable, and pleasant, and it feels good to have a solid meal in him that isn't on the heels of complete exhaustion. Yuuri's so relaxed and content by the end of it he's practically glowing, and that's maybe even more of an achievement than getting him to do anything they've done in the bedroom.

Once they've finished their food and drinks, Victor is thanking the waitress and paying the bill. Makkachin gets a treat for being so well behaved and it's about time they move along, contented and full. Victor's sure he could sit with Yuuri like that all day and be thoroughly satisfied with just his company, but they should be considerate and clear up the table. What else to do? Going home is too soon, they'd just end up all hands on one another.

"Do you want to go to the asian market I mentioned? Better to go when we aren't hungry,"

Yuuri's looking a lot like he's anticipating going home and getting their hands all over each other. He's not even really sure if it's possible to have sex again after the marathon they've had, but he almost (almost) isn't even thinking about sex, just wants to curl up and touch and be touched, which is such a novel and unusual feeling for him that he wants to indulge it extra badly.

But Victor mentions food and that sounds good too-- he did promise to cook something traditional. Still, he has to tease,

"Are you going to be able to keep your hands off me long enough?" His tone is teasing, but the grin he's got to go with it says that he's well aware that he's really been the one escalating things through lunch.

"Not a chance," he answers, suave and still playful. He punctuates the statement by reaching to take Yuuri's hand in his, again lacing their fingers. They can walk back out onto the street, Makkachin in tow, Victor taking a moment to orient himself before heading the correct direction to get them to the market. There would be a nice park between the cafe and there, a little longer than necessary, but a nice tour through Sochi all the same. Also, he was sure Makkachin would appreciate the slightly longer walk through town, after being cramped up so long in the condo.

Yuuri laughs at that, quietly, but he doesn't have anything else clever to say that isn't some form of begging to get back away from prying eyes and (likely) tearing each other's clothes off, and he really does want to get to try to cook something for Victor and stretch their legs a bit. There's a soreness settling into his limbs from both all the bedroom activities and all the skating yesterday and it feels good to work it out of his muscles like this.

Besides, walking side by side with his hands linked with Victor's is a lot more like the actual, more specific fantasies he'd allowed himself of the man.

So he falls quietly into step, looking around at all of the things they're passing as though with interest, but most of his attention is on the movement of the man beside him, the feel of their fingers linked together. He rubs his thumb absently against the side of Victor's hand, knowing that it will be dulled by gloves, but wanting the touch anyway.

Sochi has plenty to look at, their path lined with old and new buildings with stylish and historical architecture. The day is bright and pleasantly lively, drying out from the previous days storm. Victor enjoys the walking and soaking in the enjoyable quiet between them, a contrast to everything else. His hand returns the soft petting with a little, approving squeeze. There's enough people out that they don't stick out so much, nobody stops them or recognize the two skaters or fluffy poodle.

They get into the park and Victor hears his phone ringing, reaching his free hand to retrieve the device. He answers professionally, not having known the number, and continues to speak that way. His expression gets rather puzzled, bouncing oddly between a look of relief and something more unsure.

Yuuri doesn't think much about it when Victor either answers the phone, or that he's speaking in Russian. If anything, it makes him want to curl up on his chest and just listen to it purr out of him. But he can feel the tension suddenly down Victor's arm, the change in the air around them even if he can't quite read what the mood is and he stops walking, turning to look at him quizzically. He squeezes his hand in a way he hopes is reassuring, though.

His expression sits down somewhere ambivalent and sets up camp there. It's a strange feeling settling in, when he eventually ends the phone call, thinking as he stuffed his phone back away. What to say first...

"That was the police," a good start, keep it rolling, no reason to get caught up in his own head, "they caught the robber last night, they have your things ready for pick up at the station. Looks like we have another errand to run," it's good news, in the purest sense, but it sets Victor off his ease. Once he has his wallet, his ID and passport back, Yuuri can choose to leave anytime. He should leave, it wasn't reasonable to stick around even longer. That's the part gnawing at Victor's good news, the reminder this will near it's end. Not in the long run, he hopes Yuuri won't drop all this the moment he escapes Victor's presence, but it's far more uncertain.

"Oh!" Yuuri's reaction is initially quite unambiguous. After all, there were some things with his stolen stuff that he really couldn't afford to replace, had already resigned himself to not having a cell phone for the foreseeable future, for example, and losing even as much as he had in cash might have meant having to make serious cutbacks in other ways. But if all of that's safe, that's a huge weight off of him and he breathes an obvious sigh of relief. "That's... way better news than I was expecting, honestly. Can we go right away?"

He's not going to get why it's maybe not good news until later, or until Victor points it out, sorry. He's been stolen from and his stuff has been recovered and he's not stranded anymore. He's not thinking of the ramifications over the emotional response to that.

It is, however, clicking in his head that Victor doesn't look pleased.

Victor lacks the perspective to know what Yuuri lost and also is past the broke and desperate for success part of his career. A lost phone is nothing he can't replace on a whim, just look at his ridiculous vacation condo in Sochi. He'd feel embarrassingly out of touch to have it pointed out to him, he forgets just how privileged being as well off as he is is. Really, he'd have offered to buy Yuuri a new phone by now, but knows it would read as some kind of "payment" for them being together like this. He wants to do everything to avoid that kind of implication, Sugar Daddy is certainly not the dynamic he wants to Yuuri. It's nice to see Yuuri excited by the news and it puts him at ease, in turn. His concerned look shifts to a casual smile.

"Of course, but we might want to call a car, it would be quite a walk," which is easy enough, he's got an app that can get a ride share to meet up with. After the station, they can get dropped off at the markets and then be back at the condo before it gets too late.

There are some contexts, at this point, Yuuri might accept something like that in. Awkwardly, yes, and not without some misgivings, but it's the weakness on his own part that he minds, not the help, not really. And Victor has done an excellent job these past few days of side-stepping that part of Yuuri's brain, maybe because of how much Yuuri's had to rely on Victor just to not freeze to death in the streets or whatever. He's not sure. He's the most helpless and broken he's ever been in his life, in front of the one person in the world he wanted to present the best front to, the best parts of himself, and they're still fucking like rabbits and Victor's given him so many little "I love yous" and admiration and adoration and there's still a part of him that doesn't trust it will last, but that it's happening at all is ridiculous and wonderful.

"Whatever you think is best," he says, with a shrug, more focused on regaining his stuff than how far he might have to walk for it. That said, maybe some part of him is suddenly aware of the time growing short, because he's just kind of... softer around the edges a bit, at the moment, while they walk to an edge of the park to get the car, more willing to be closer to Victor, and to hell with whether or not people see them or take pictures.

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