Yuri's giving in without even putting up an argument, so he must really be exhausted, and Victor's smile flickers as he watches the way those lashes drift down again as if holding his eyes open was too physically draining to maintain, and Yuri's head started to tip towards the fingers in his hair. It looks like he might just slip off to sleep now, without further comment, and Victor wouldn't be surprised if he did: it's been a long few days and not enough sleep for Yuri between them, bracketed by the stress and strain of competition.
He's honestly amazed Yuri made it this long.
But it's only a moment, before Yuri's eyes are blinking back open, and he's giving Victor a suspicious, if sleepy, look from beneath his lashes, and Victor has only just begun wondering if he should brace himself for a debate, before a thick and dopey voice makes that single demand. it makes Victor blink, wondering what he'd missed (again, when had he gotten them wrong before?), but when no other qualifications follow, his readiness evaporates into a widening smile. "Yes, I'll get them right. Do you want them?"
He doesn't want to move away from Yuri, but if Yuri wants the blankets –– and if that's the only qualification Yuri is putting on staying here, right here, with him –– then he will get Yuri blankets. He leans forward just far enough to press a kiss to Yuri's forehead, and pulls away, fingers slipping from Yuri's hair as he pushes himself up, and swings his legs towards the edge of the bed to start untucking the sheet and the fluffy white comforter over it, now dented from his bodyweight. "You'll just have to move for one second, so I can get them out from under you."
Taking the pause to pluck Yuri's glasses from the pillow and deposit them on the bedside table near his own phone, thinking he should turn out that lamp, too, and pull the curtains to keep the Shanghai lights from flooding in and keeping Yuri awake. "And then you can go straight to sleep, if you want."
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Date: 2017-05-14 06:44 pm (UTC)He's honestly amazed Yuri made it this long.
But it's only a moment, before Yuri's eyes are blinking back open, and he's giving Victor a suspicious, if sleepy, look from beneath his lashes, and Victor has only just begun wondering if he should brace himself for a debate, before a thick and dopey voice makes that single demand. it makes Victor blink, wondering what he'd missed (again, when had he gotten them wrong before?), but when no other qualifications follow, his readiness evaporates into a widening smile. "Yes, I'll get them right. Do you want them?"
He doesn't want to move away from Yuri, but if Yuri wants the blankets –– and if that's the only qualification Yuri is putting on staying here, right here, with him –– then he will get Yuri blankets. He leans forward just far enough to press a kiss to Yuri's forehead, and pulls away, fingers slipping from Yuri's hair as he pushes himself up, and swings his legs towards the edge of the bed to start untucking the sheet and the fluffy white comforter over it, now dented from his bodyweight. "You'll just have to move for one second, so I can get them out from under you."
Taking the pause to pluck Yuri's glasses from the pillow and deposit them on the bedside table near his own phone, thinking he should turn out that lamp, too, and pull the curtains to keep the Shanghai lights from flooding in and keeping Yuri awake. "And then you can go straight to sleep, if you want."
He needs it. Maybe they both do.