It wasn't so long ago they were walking like this in Shanghai, while Yuri grew tighter and tighter under his hand and Victor looked for a single place without people, where they could talk. Where Yuri finally exploded at him, in tears and fear and frustration, and he didn't know what to do.
(He still has a lot to learn about being a coach.)
Except everything has changed since that night in Shanghai, hasn't it? It's not just being Yuri's coach he needs to get right, anymore, it's this, too: how being without him for even a few days felt like barely living, like he was encased in walls of glass or ice.
It's Yuri gripping him at the arrivals gate like he never wants to let go. Yuri's shy acceptance of that date they never got to go on. It would have been tonight, wouldn't it? After the exhibition, maybe.
(If he'd been there, would Yuri have been in it?)
"You can sleep as late as you want to tomorrow."
Even without the extra stress of the last few days, he'd always advocated for a few days of rest after competitions, to keep from burning out before the next one. Four weeks isn't a lot of time, but it's enough to allow a day off before they really dig in. "We'll see how you feel in the afternoon, but I don't want you doing anything but some light exercises."
Something to keep Yuri's mind focused, while giving his body time to recover. "And a long soak in the hot spring."
The blast of cold air that greets them as they glass doors slide open and they walk through isn't as intense as Moscow's, but it's enough to make him happy that Yuri's as bundled up as he is. His own coat is still hanging open and his scarf is too loose to keep the winter air from slipping down around his throat, but it's fine. They'll be home soon enough.
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Date: 2017-07-23 02:31 pm (UTC)(He still has a lot to learn about being a coach.)
Except everything has changed since that night in Shanghai, hasn't it? It's not just being Yuri's coach he needs to get right, anymore, it's this, too: how being without him for even a few days felt like barely living, like he was encased in walls of glass or ice.
It's Yuri gripping him at the arrivals gate like he never wants to let go. Yuri's shy acceptance of that date they never got to go on. It would have been tonight, wouldn't it? After the exhibition, maybe.
(If he'd been there, would Yuri have been in it?)
"You can sleep as late as you want to tomorrow."
Even without the extra stress of the last few days, he'd always advocated for a few days of rest after competitions, to keep from burning out before the next one. Four weeks isn't a lot of time, but it's enough to allow a day off before they really dig in. "We'll see how you feel in the afternoon, but I don't want you doing anything but some light exercises."
Something to keep Yuri's mind focused, while giving his body time to recover. "And a long soak in the hot spring."
The blast of cold air that greets them as they glass doors slide open and they walk through isn't as intense as Moscow's, but it's enough to make him happy that Yuri's as bundled up as he is. His own coat is still hanging open and his scarf is too loose to keep the winter air from slipping down around his throat, but it's fine. They'll be home soon enough.