Yuri's still shifting, pushing, twisting in his arms, and they're starting to get tied up in a way that's only going to make this harder instead of easier. Yuri's leg is heavy across his, and Yuri's knee is on the mattress as he tries to push up, and maybe Victor should have just gone along with that heady whimsy of earlier.
The thought that this could be so much better if he just pulled them both over, if he pushed up from the headboard and pillow and forward, moving Yuri back, going for a different sort of gravity.
He still doesn't, because the reasons why he hadn't still haven't changed, but he does lean his head back to catch his breath and stare up at Yuri with heavy eyes. All of this feels so hard, why does it feel so hard?
Why hasn't getting Yuri back here solved it all?
Maybe because it was never about not having Yuri. He was the one who got on that plane in Moscow, not Yuri. Yuri just came home, he would have come back here anyway.
And they were supposed to skate under the fairy lights at Red Square tonight.
His hands slide to Yuri's hips, trying to support or guide him, whichever way he ends up, while applause breaks out on the laptop. (It must be over soon, surely?) Watching Yuri's face, eyes dipping to his mouth and the pulse in his throat and back up again, and it certainly doesn't look like Yuri wants to leave, but that just brings him back to what he was thinking before, doesn't it? "I'm sorry."
He's said it plenty of times, but each time seems even further away from what it should mean, how it should feel. Making him try again. "I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have known we have to stay together."
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Yuri's still shifting, pushing, twisting in his arms, and they're starting to get tied up in a way that's only going to make this harder instead of easier. Yuri's leg is heavy across his, and Yuri's knee is on the mattress as he tries to push up, and maybe Victor should have just gone along with that heady whimsy of earlier.
The thought that this could be so much better if he just pulled them both over, if he pushed up from the headboard and pillow and forward, moving Yuri back, going for a different sort of gravity.
He still doesn't, because the reasons why he hadn't still haven't changed, but he does lean his head back to catch his breath and stare up at Yuri with heavy eyes. All of this feels so hard, why does it feel so hard?
Why hasn't getting Yuri back here solved it all?
Maybe because it was never about not having Yuri. He was the one who got on that plane in Moscow, not Yuri. Yuri just came home, he would have come back here anyway.
And they were supposed to skate under the fairy lights at Red Square tonight.
His hands slide to Yuri's hips, trying to support or guide him, whichever way he ends up, while applause breaks out on the laptop. (It must be over soon, surely?) Watching Yuri's face, eyes dipping to his mouth and the pulse in his throat and back up again, and it certainly doesn't look like Yuri wants to leave, but that just brings him back to what he was thinking before, doesn't it? "I'm sorry."
He's said it plenty of times, but each time seems even further away from what it should mean, how it should feel. Making him try again. "I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have known we have to stay together."