It's not like he really needs to defend that Victor started pulling him into the center of the bed after being told he was going to push Yuri off the bed if he kept going his first direction. The details don't really matter, when most of all Yuri is trying to find some way to press his smile to something manageable. Lips pulled in and pressed between his teeth and looking up and then down, unable to really stop it, that smile, at Victor's declaration of abused innocence.
Because Victor is impossible. On a daily basis. Not just ... all of this. But this, too. Impossible and artlessly innocent, to a wounded kind of defensive whining.
Before today, it would have been somewhere near him, possibly with the widest blue eyes of pleading and declarative innocence, squishing into his face, to demand all his attention for the innocent defense. But it's not before today. It's today, and it's being cried into the skin of his neck, and it's all just as amusing, just as endearing, and impossible, and childish, and absolutely not real, and not important, and so very Victor, even like this.
The point that follows is the truth and he does buy that. It might have been at the base of it when Victor started. Yuri couldn't remember now if or whether he'd said something about it when he started to do that. It'd devolved into its own thing, which was normal enough, too, and it wasn't actually a bad point. He'd been laying down earlier. Before. It's a speculative thought, that makes him say, "It might hurt less."
Not a complaint. More an absent, maybe even slightly tired of being real, agreement. It hurts. Existing. Sitting. Breathing.
Victor half on him. But he saves that one for the last spot on the list and he doesn't let go. ... Doesn't want to be let go of?
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Date: 2017-05-01 02:17 am (UTC)It's not like he really needs to defend that Victor started pulling him into the center of the bed after being told he was going to push Yuri off the bed if he kept going his first direction. The details don't really matter, when most of all Yuri is trying to find some way to press his smile to something manageable. Lips pulled in and pressed between his teeth and looking up and then down, unable to really stop it, that smile, at Victor's declaration of abused innocence.
Because Victor is impossible. On a daily basis. Not just ... all of this. But this, too.
Impossible and artlessly innocent, to a wounded kind of defensive whining.
Before today, it would have been somewhere near him, possibly with the widest blue eyes of pleading and declarative innocence, squishing into his face, to demand all his attention for the innocent defense. But it's not before today. It's today, and it's being cried into the skin of his neck, and it's all just as amusing, just as endearing, and impossible, and childish, and absolutely not real, and not important, and so very Victor, even like this.
The point that follows is the truth and he does buy that. It might have been at the base of it when Victor started. Yuri couldn't remember now if or whether he'd said something about it when he started to do that. It'd devolved into its own thing, which was normal enough, too, and it wasn't actually a bad point. He'd been laying down earlier. Before. It's a speculative thought, that makes him say, "It might hurt less."
Not a complaint. More an absent, maybe even slightly tired of being real, agreement. It hurts. Existing. Sitting. Breathing.
Victor half on him. But he saves that one for the last spot on the list and he doesn't let go. ... Doesn't want to be let go of?