His fingers catch in the brown paper, not shuffled too far from the top front. He had been trying to keep it in one piece, without breaking it or smashing it too badly for the care and travel. As soon as it's in hand Yuri is headed back into the hallway. Two steps put him already in Victor's doorway, even as he considers the hall corner to the stairs, and the family kitchen beneath them.
It's been the better part of a day since he got them, but he doesn't even really know how short or how long to warm it up, does he? And they hadn't even been warm when Yurio gave them to him (it's almost your birthday, right?), and he'd still loved it then, right? And that might be too long, if Victor's guess is right and Yurio is up next. Even if he told Victor to yell down if Yurio came on, he might have to wait for it to finish, and then he'd miss parts of it.
Plus. He might ruin it. What did he know of Russian food except how to point to what he wanted and then eat it?
A second, two, maybe three's thoughts, before he turns back into the room, and Victor, and the back of the laptop that is still not playing Angel of the Fire Festival yet. Victor's face still doesn't look calm either and it makes his steps back a little faster than the pause in the hallway, if not as much a mad dash as getting out of the room and into his own had been. It's a little more awkward figuring out how to crawl, using only one hand and his knees once he reaches the bed.
"Here." He held out the bag to Victor, while -- after one maybe too obvious pause considering staying where he was or the spot he'd originally sat down on the bed next to Victor or whether he was brave enough, before -- working on getting himself back to the spot that he'd so quickly left from. Hoping it's not an imposition after running off now.
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It's been the better part of a day since he got them, but he doesn't even really know how short or how long to warm it up, does he? And they hadn't even been warm when Yurio gave them to him (it's almost your birthday, right?), and he'd still loved it then, right? And that might be too long, if Victor's guess is right and Yurio is up next. Even if he told Victor to yell down if Yurio came on, he might have to wait for it to finish, and then he'd miss parts of it.
Plus. He might ruin it. What did he know of Russian food except how to point to what he wanted and then eat it?
A second, two, maybe three's thoughts, before he turns back into the room, and Victor, and the back of the laptop that is still not playing Angel of the Fire Festival yet. Victor's face still doesn't look calm either and it makes his steps back a little faster than the pause in the hallway, if not as much a mad dash as getting out of the room and into his own had been. It's a little more awkward figuring out how to crawl, using only one hand and his knees once he reaches the bed.
"Here." He held out the bag to Victor, while -- after one maybe too obvious pause considering staying where he was or the spot he'd originally sat down on the bed next to Victor or whether he was brave enough, before -- working on getting himself back to the spot that he'd so quickly left from. Hoping it's not an imposition after running off now.