It's immediate, and so is the way his hands firm, and he leans to touch his forehead to Yuri's with a soft smile, before pulling back far enough to see his whole face and make sure Yuri is paying attention. It's not even fundamentally true: there were certainly times he was with people who didn't know what they were doing. There were times he was that person, himself, when he wasn't all that far off from Yuri's age.
But that could never be what he meant. That's not the because.
Because he never loved anyone else to move across the world for them.
Because he never loved anyone else more than his medals, his career, or himself.
Because Yuri stole his heart and his mind and his senses and refused to give them back, even when it was clear he didn't feel the same way. "I never felt like this about anyone before. I didn't know I could."
Not always happy. Sometimes furious, and frightened, and frustrated. Months and months of trying to work it out of himself, with practice and physical exhaustion and a few occasional and ill-advised rendezvous that only left him feeling more restless and unsatisfied as ever.
He's aware, on a dim level, that he should try not to push too much at Yuri at once, that he should try to keep from scaring Yuri away, but he said he was going to try and do better, didn't he? Prove to Yuri he means what he says. That this is as new and thrilling and terrifying for him, in many ways, as it is for Yuri himself. "You stole my heart." Better. But not complete. "You seduced me."
With a faint nostalgia to his laugh: he'd never stood a chance. "Like a fairy tale. Like ... what is it, любовь с первого взгляда."
The pad of his thumbs tracing skin, careful and warm. Eyes soft, even as he's holding Yuri's. "Love at first sight."
No one has ever done that, before. He didn't even know it was possible.
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Date: 2017-04-20 08:39 pm (UTC)It's immediate, and so is the way his hands firm, and he leans to touch his forehead to Yuri's with a soft smile, before pulling back far enough to see his whole face and make sure Yuri is paying attention. It's not even fundamentally true: there were certainly times he was with people who didn't know what they were doing. There were times he was that person, himself, when he wasn't all that far off from Yuri's age.
But that could never be what he meant. That's not the because.
Because he never loved anyone else to move across the world for them.
Because he never loved anyone else more than his medals, his career, or himself.
Because Yuri stole his heart and his mind and his senses and refused to give them back, even when it was clear he didn't feel the same way. "I never felt like this about anyone before. I didn't know I could."
Not always happy. Sometimes furious, and frightened, and frustrated. Months and months of trying to work it out of himself, with practice and physical exhaustion and a few occasional and ill-advised rendezvous that only left him feeling more restless and unsatisfied as ever.
He's aware, on a dim level, that he should try not to push too much at Yuri at once, that he should try to keep from scaring Yuri away, but he said he was going to try and do better, didn't he? Prove to Yuri he means what he says. That this is as new and thrilling and terrifying for him, in many ways, as it is for Yuri himself. "You stole my heart." Better. But not complete. "You seduced me."
With a faint nostalgia to his laugh: he'd never stood a chance. "Like a fairy tale. Like ... what is it, любовь с первого взгляда."
The pad of his thumbs tracing skin, careful and warm. Eyes soft, even as he's holding Yuri's. "Love at first sight."
No one has ever done that, before. He didn't even know it was possible.