There's still tinny music and commentary coming from his laptop, somewhere by his feet, but he has no idea who it's for, who's skating, who's announcing. None of it matters. It barely mattered before, but it certainly can't now, with the sound Yuri makes that sinks directly into Victor's tense stomach and make it tighten even further.
That sound, his hand tightening, his whole body shifting and trying to get closer, but there's no good way to do that like this. It's not like in Shanghai, when Victor dragged Yuri into his lap and could pull him up flush against his chest and stomach. They might have fit like spoons before, but this twist is making that impossible.
Everyone is so tired. Too tired and too sore from missing each other, and even though there's the flicker of an idea –– it wouldn't take much, just shifting his weight, just pushing forward, for Yuri's back to hit the mattress and all this tangled-up space to suddenly lay itself out in beautiful clear lines –– it all feels too delicate still, and he's exhausted deep into his bones in a way he never was during competitions. It's only been a little over a week and they've barely had time to talk about any of this, let alone push the boundaries of it, and tonight's not the time. He doesn't want Yuri unsure and uncomfortable and slowly trying to come to terms with what he wants or doesn't want, he wants Yuri just like this.
Tucked against him. Making that tiny sound. Trying to get closer. Kissing him back.
Palms sliding up Yuri's back and ribs, legs shifting underneath and around him to give him more room. He's so tired it seems like all it will take are these few touches to set his head spinning, leave him drunk and dazed.
Yuri shouldn't still be wanting to kiss him, should he? Victor left. As a coach, as ...this... he should have stayed with Yuri to support and advise and help him, and somehow Yuri is still here and he's forgiven.
He doesn't understand it, but he understands that sound all too well: it's the one his own heart is making over and over again, and whatever he's thinking about being too tired, blood is quickening and so is his pulse and it's too easy to let some of his worries and desperation drive this kiss, his hands, the way he's tugging Yuri towards him.
no subject
There's still tinny music and commentary coming from his laptop, somewhere by his feet, but he has no idea who it's for, who's skating, who's announcing. None of it matters. It barely mattered before, but it certainly can't now, with the sound Yuri makes that sinks directly into Victor's tense stomach and make it tighten even further.
That sound, his hand tightening, his whole body shifting and trying to get closer, but there's no good way to do that like this. It's not like in Shanghai, when Victor dragged Yuri into his lap and could pull him up flush against his chest and stomach. They might have fit like spoons before, but this twist is making that impossible.
Everyone is so tired. Too tired and too sore from missing each other, and even though there's the flicker of an idea –– it wouldn't take much, just shifting his weight, just pushing forward, for Yuri's back to hit the mattress and all this tangled-up space to suddenly lay itself out in beautiful clear lines –– it all feels too delicate still, and he's exhausted deep into his bones in a way he never was during competitions. It's only been a little over a week and they've barely had time to talk about any of this, let alone push the boundaries of it, and tonight's not the time. He doesn't want Yuri unsure and uncomfortable and slowly trying to come to terms with what he wants or doesn't want, he wants Yuri just like this.
Tucked against him. Making that tiny sound. Trying to get closer. Kissing him back.
Palms sliding up Yuri's back and ribs, legs shifting underneath and around him to give him more room. He's so tired it seems like all it will take are these few touches to set his head spinning, leave him drunk and dazed.
Yuri shouldn't still be wanting to kiss him, should he? Victor left. As a coach, as ...this... he should have stayed with Yuri to support and advise and help him, and somehow Yuri is still here and he's forgiven.
He doesn't understand it, but he understands that sound all too well: it's the one his own heart is making over and over again, and whatever he's thinking about being too tired, blood is quickening and so is his pulse and it's too easy to let some of his worries and desperation drive this kiss, his hands, the way he's tugging Yuri towards him.