What starts as a wave of exasperation, turns with curve and surge Yuri isn't expecting.
He'd never planned to move than a few tipping inches to one side and one of his legs to grab his phone, never even to leave where he was sitting for more than to grab it, but what happens in the flick of the few seconds it takes to wrap his hand around his forgotten phone and tip back and into it, isn't what happened earlier.
Instead of letting go of him, Victor's arms tighten like a seat belt. Instead of his name turned question, it's almost pleading. A whine as Victor's face and forehead bury into his shoulder, and his neck, causing Yuri to shiver and almost drop the phone in his hand. His heart swelling in his chest with an overwhelmed wave of warmth. Suddenly not sure he ever wants Victor's grip to lessen from vice-tight, or Victor to pull back. From being pressed right into him. (From refusing to even let him move a few inches?) From Victor chastising him for even the ghost of the assumption of appearing to leave again.
"Okay." He nods, a little fast, a lot without air. Maybe because it's easier than the blank screen. Victor is easier than the blank screen. (Victor is easier than trying to put words together; than the voices in his head telling him he's definitely wrong; than Yurio; Yurio's constant barrage of sharpness; the memories of only yesterday.) He swallows, looking over at Victor and his shoulder, more than the inside of his own head. "Okay. Not moving. No more moving."
It's more careful than it was earlier, but Yuri leans back, even though he hardly needs to with the hold Victor has on his middle. But he still does. Like maybe it'll help. Even if it's a precarious shift, being thought of and done, even when his eyes drift back to the phone in his hand, the empty message box, and then up again, heart a little too fast, in a circuit, to the Italian Girl, Crispino, skating on the screen of Victor's laptop.
Just as she does an incredibly difficult triple lutz, followed by a triple loop and the entire crowd goes mad for it, and her.
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What starts as a wave of exasperation, turns with curve and surge Yuri isn't expecting.
He'd never planned to move than a few tipping inches to one side and one of his legs to grab his phone, never even to leave where he was sitting for more than to grab it, but what happens in the flick of the few seconds it takes to wrap his hand around his forgotten phone and tip back and into it, isn't what happened earlier.
Instead of letting go of him, Victor's arms tighten like a seat belt. Instead of his name turned question, it's almost pleading. A whine as Victor's face and forehead bury into his shoulder, and his neck, causing Yuri to shiver and almost drop the phone in his hand. His heart swelling in his chest with an overwhelmed wave of warmth. Suddenly not sure he ever wants Victor's grip to lessen from vice-tight, or Victor to pull back. From being pressed right into him. (From refusing to even let him move a few inches?) From Victor chastising him for even the ghost of the assumption of appearing to leave again.
"Okay." He nods, a little fast, a lot without air. Maybe because it's easier than the blank screen. Victor is easier than the blank screen. (Victor is easier than trying to put words together; than the voices in his head telling him he's definitely wrong; than Yurio; Yurio's constant barrage of sharpness; the memories of only yesterday.) He swallows, looking over at Victor and his shoulder, more than the inside of his own head. "Okay. Not moving. No more moving."
It's more careful than it was earlier, but Yuri leans back, even though he hardly needs to with the hold Victor has on his middle. But he still does. Like maybe it'll help. Even if it's a precarious shift, being thought of and done, even when his eyes drift back to the phone in his hand, the empty message box, and then up again, heart a little too fast, in a circuit, to the Italian Girl, Crispino, skating on the screen of Victor's laptop.
Just as she does an incredibly difficult triple lutz, followed by a triple loop and the entire crowd goes mad for it, and her.