He's not doing a very good job of making sure he does what Yuri needs, instead of just what he wants, and it makes him huff a sigh into Yuri's shirt collar. Is he the coach right now? Should he be?
A coach would shut the laptop and order Yuri to bed, with strict reminders about not setting an alarm for tomorrow. A coach would already have walked through the mistakes Yuri made in his free skate, and made notes for what to touch on once training starts back up again the day after tomorrow. A coach wouldn't be so desperate for Yuri's company that he'd threaten Yuri's peace of mind and sleep only to relieve his own.
(He's never been just a coach, though, has he? Has only ever been just Victor, instead.)
Yuri's shifting against him, squirming to twist in his arms; not away, but toward. An arm slipping around him. Cheek and jaw resting, hesitant at first and then firmly, against his hair, and Victor wants to sigh again, a great shaky release of breath that won't relieve any of this pressure no matter how big it is. "You don't have to."
He should at least say that. Should offer it. He can't and wouldn't want to make Yuri stay here, if Yuri's going to worry the whole time and not sleep and resent Victor for asking him to do something he's not comfortable with. Another mistake in a week full of Victor's mistakes, all of which should be making Yuri think twice about getting involved with him, shouldn't they?
But Yuri's here, turning towards him. Victor's arms loosening enough to let him move, if he wants to, to wind up more like sitting across his lap instead of just in it, Yuri's side against his chest, instead of his back. If he wants to.
(He wonders if he'll be able to sleep, exhaustion or no, if Yuri decides to take the out he's been given.)
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He's not doing a very good job of making sure he does what Yuri needs, instead of just what he wants, and it makes him huff a sigh into Yuri's shirt collar. Is he the coach right now? Should he be?
A coach would shut the laptop and order Yuri to bed, with strict reminders about not setting an alarm for tomorrow. A coach would already have walked through the mistakes Yuri made in his free skate, and made notes for what to touch on once training starts back up again the day after tomorrow. A coach wouldn't be so desperate for Yuri's company that he'd threaten Yuri's peace of mind and sleep only to relieve his own.
(He's never been just a coach, though, has he?
Has only ever been just Victor, instead.)
Yuri's shifting against him, squirming to twist in his arms; not away, but toward. An arm slipping around him. Cheek and jaw resting, hesitant at first and then firmly, against his hair, and Victor wants to sigh again, a great shaky release of breath that won't relieve any of this pressure no matter how big it is. "You don't have to."
He should at least say that. Should offer it. He can't and wouldn't want to make Yuri stay here, if Yuri's going to worry the whole time and not sleep and resent Victor for asking him to do something he's not comfortable with. Another mistake in a week full of Victor's mistakes, all of which should be making Yuri think twice about getting involved with him, shouldn't they?
But Yuri's here, turning towards him. Victor's arms loosening enough to let him move, if he wants to, to wind up more like sitting across his lap instead of just in it, Yuri's side against his chest, instead of his back. If he wants to.
(He wonders if he'll be able to sleep, exhaustion or no, if Yuri decides to take the out he's been given.)