"Why not?"

Yuri is looking at him with undisguised shock, as if this is some impossible thing, as if it isn't something people do all the time. "Nobody's awake."

Nobody would care is what he wants to say, but doesn't, because they might. He supposes it's a possibility, slim though he thinks it is. Of all the people who might disapprove or dislike, he doesn't think Yuri's parents are among them, but that's an assumption based on knowing them only for a few short months.

But they're on the other side of the house, and nobody ever comes this way but him and Yuri anyway, mostly, and he's too tired to care what the world might think, right now. The world, or Yuri's parents, or anyone else who thinks they have a say in how he feels or what they do. "I only just got you back."

He doesn't want to give Yuri up again. Not so soon. Not after only a few hours, not when it's such a small thing, really, in the scheme of things, just spending the night here. It's not as if Yuri's comfortable with anything else yet, and honestly they're both so tired Victor doesn't think anything would happen even if he were.

There's no good reason, but there's every reason, when his arms tighten and he leans past Yuri's aghast face to rest his forehead in the crook of Yuri's neck, voice quiet. "Мне тебя не хватает."

False, on one level. He can't possibly still be missing Yuri, can he?
With Yuri right here?
In his arms?

And the truest thing he knows right now, on another.