The silence in this room is stifling. It's quiet enough to hear the springs in the mattress squeak when Yuri sits down, quiet enough to hear the ice shift when Yuri picks up the pack to set it against his hip. Quiet in a way it hasn't been with them in a long time. Quiet in a way that Victor finds unsettling.
So, he may as well shatter it. "It's okay to not quite be sure about all this, Yuri."
It doesn't matter how sure he is. He's had years to come to these conclusions, and he'd fought against them nearly all the way. It hasn't been easy for him, either. "I did kind of spring it on you all at once."
Which is a little rueful. He's not sorry –– couldn't be, would have no idea how to pretend he is, because he feels more free now than he has in months, in longer, and he's never been someone who apologizes for his feelings. If it hurts Yuri, of course, he'd never want to do that, wouldn't feel a thousand apologies could be enough, but ––
For loving him? For wanting this?
He'll never be sorry for either of those things.
But he smiles a little, his bangs sliding toward his ear and obscuring the vision in his left eye even more than usual, but the right, which is watching Yuri, is soft. "Normally, like this, we'd be talking about the programs today, right? Everything that you did right, everything you did wrong, how we're going to make it even better. Or maybe we'd just talk about the day, and how you're feeling, or what Minako wants you to practice."
Everything they've gotten used to, all the precious familiarity they've found, all these little moments Victor treasures so much. "I miss that, a little, right now."
Not the topics themselves, but the ease of it. The way Yuri never before now looked wary of sitting down on Victor's bed, would come collapse on it as if it were his own to complain or talk or watch videos together of past programs, past excellence.
That's what he misses, or wants. Yuri said I'm not afraid of him, but even if this isn't fear, it's ... something, that's holding him apart, aloof, detached, and Victor wants it gone, wants to throw a rope across this yawning chasm and pull Yuri to shore. "You can still talk to me about whatever's on your mind, Yuri. Even if you think I won't like it."
Maybe especially then. This has to be both of them.
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Date: 2017-04-28 08:36 pm (UTC)So, he may as well shatter it. "It's okay to not quite be sure about all this, Yuri."
It doesn't matter how sure he is. He's had years to come to these conclusions, and he'd fought against them nearly all the way. It hasn't been easy for him, either. "I did kind of spring it on you all at once."
Which is a little rueful. He's not sorry –– couldn't be, would have no idea how to pretend he is, because he feels more free now than he has in months, in longer, and he's never been someone who apologizes for his feelings. If it hurts Yuri, of course, he'd never want to do that, wouldn't feel a thousand apologies could be enough, but ––
For loving him? For wanting this?
He'll never be sorry for either of those things.
But he smiles a little, his bangs sliding toward his ear and obscuring the vision in his left eye even more than usual, but the right, which is watching Yuri, is soft. "Normally, like this, we'd be talking about the programs today, right? Everything that you did right, everything you did wrong, how we're going to make it even better. Or maybe we'd just talk about the day, and how you're feeling, or what Minako wants you to practice."
Everything they've gotten used to, all the precious familiarity they've found, all these little moments Victor treasures so much. "I miss that, a little, right now."
Not the topics themselves, but the ease of it. The way Yuri never before now looked wary of sitting down on Victor's bed, would come collapse on it as if it were his own to complain or talk or watch videos together of past programs, past excellence.
That's what he misses, or wants. Yuri said I'm not afraid of him, but even if this isn't fear, it's ... something, that's holding him apart, aloof, detached, and Victor wants it gone, wants to throw a rope across this yawning chasm and pull Yuri to shore. "You can still talk to me about whatever's on your mind, Yuri. Even if you think I won't like it."
Maybe especially then. This has to be both of them.