He can't imagine he'll ever get over this. It's a ridiculous thing to think on night one, probably, because he's never known a novelty that hasn't worn off eventually and become usual, mundane, expected, but there's still that thought, burrowing its way into his hindbrain and curling up there:
That he can't imagine he ever get over this.
Yuri, leaning into his kiss, and returning it, just as soft and just as sweet, until it feels like Victor's heart is about to crack, it's so full. Yuri's forehead resting against his, warm and solid, while his eyes go heavy, dopey with exhaustion, but absolutely trusting. Every inch of him relaxed and tired, a little mussed, looking younger than his twenty-three years even without his glasses, puddled in a soft t-shirt and sheets, and Victor's hands go to his face while he smiles, all his other thoughts dropped without ceremony by the wayside. "Come on, Yuri. Lie down."
Shifting to settle his own long body on the mattress, and gently tugging Yuri down, with him, towards the pillow and the cloud of sheet and comforter, and Yuri can really lie on either, if he wants. The pillow, or Victor, himself, who can't quite remember why it was he was going to get up only a minute ago.
It doesn't seem important. Nothing does, aside from making sure Yuri gets settled in and has a chance to give up this losing battle he's trying to fight against sleep. Victor can finish up doing whatever it was he'd meant to do in a minute, once Yuri's dropped off. Until then, he has all the time in the world, and only one goal: get Yuri to sleep, the way he'd failed to earlier today. "Isn't it comfortable?"
Soft, warm, cozy. Not his own bed at home, but the next best approximation, and, well ––
This one has an added feature Yuri's little bed back in Hasetsu never had.
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Date: 2017-05-15 02:13 am (UTC)He can't imagine he'll ever get over this. It's a ridiculous thing to think on night one, probably, because he's never known a novelty that hasn't worn off eventually and become usual, mundane, expected, but there's still that thought, burrowing its way into his hindbrain and curling up there:
That he can't imagine he ever get over this.
Yuri, leaning into his kiss, and returning it, just as soft and just as sweet, until it feels like Victor's heart is about to crack, it's so full. Yuri's forehead resting against his, warm and solid, while his eyes go heavy, dopey with exhaustion, but absolutely trusting. Every inch of him relaxed and tired, a little mussed, looking younger than his twenty-three years even without his glasses, puddled in a soft t-shirt and sheets, and Victor's hands go to his face while he smiles, all his other thoughts dropped without ceremony by the wayside. "Come on, Yuri. Lie down."
Shifting to settle his own long body on the mattress, and gently tugging Yuri down, with him, towards the pillow and the cloud of sheet and comforter, and Yuri can really lie on either, if he wants. The pillow, or Victor, himself, who can't quite remember why it was he was going to get up only a minute ago.
It doesn't seem important. Nothing does, aside from making sure Yuri gets settled in and has a chance to give up this losing battle he's trying to fight against sleep. Victor can finish up doing whatever it was he'd meant to do in a minute, once Yuri's dropped off. Until then, he has all the time in the world, and only one goal: get Yuri to sleep, the way he'd failed to earlier today. "Isn't it comfortable?"
Soft, warm, cozy. Not his own bed at home, but the next best approximation, and, well ––
This one has an added feature Yuri's little bed back in Hasetsu never had.