He tries to make sure they don't sound too desperate, those words, but he's not really used to saying them and they come out in a sort of burst, like Yuri has banged his knee and an apology came out instead of a kick. He's not even sure what, exactly, he's sorry for, only knows that it's whatever he did that put this expression on Yuri's face, instead of the sweet and trusting one he'd had at the end of the night before, right before dropping off to sleep.
All he knows is he has to fix it. That he can't have ruined everything with a few dumb comments on Instagram simply because he was overly excited at the idea of finally having Yuri, after all this time.
He can't lose him because of it.
But Yuri isn't saying anything, closing his eyes in pain even after he nods, like he's trying to figure out the best way to phrase something terrible, and Victor has to leap on it, to stop it, desperation welling so thick in his throat he thinks he might choke on it.
This is not what he meant to do. "I wasn't thinking about how people might take them. I ... wasn't thinking."
Not straight. Not carefully. Maybe not at all.
(If he'd thought this was a possible reaction, even in the slightest of chances, he never would have opened that app at all.)
Yuri isn't looking at him, and he has to reach out, shifting onto his knees at Yuri's side, one hand lifting, wondering if he'd even be allowed to touch Yuri's face, his neck, his shoulder right now. "I felt so lucky, it seemed wrong to keep it to myself."
Yuri hasn't grown up in the public eye the way he has. Over a decade of every move being watched, recorded, dissected, and discussed, and he's gotten used to it, almost considers it to be the norm, now, even if he knows it isn't. That it isn't for Yuri, and not for most people even in his position, either, but he's never minded. Probably he should have, this time, but it's impossible to know for sure now.
Which only leaves him feeling even more helpless, as his hand drops again, to his own knee, and he's searching Yuri's face for some sort of sign that this isn't it, but all he has in his own defense is still, only: "I'm sorry."
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He tries to make sure they don't sound too desperate, those words, but he's not really used to saying them and they come out in a sort of burst, like Yuri has banged his knee and an apology came out instead of a kick. He's not even sure what, exactly, he's sorry for, only knows that it's whatever he did that put this expression on Yuri's face, instead of the sweet and trusting one he'd had at the end of the night before, right before dropping off to sleep.
All he knows is he has to fix it. That he can't have ruined everything with a few dumb comments on Instagram simply because he was overly excited at the idea of finally having Yuri, after all this time.
He can't lose him because of it.
But Yuri isn't saying anything, closing his eyes in pain even after he nods, like he's trying to figure out the best way to phrase something terrible, and Victor has to leap on it, to stop it, desperation welling so thick in his throat he thinks he might choke on it.
This is not what he meant to do. "I wasn't thinking about how people might take them. I ... wasn't thinking."
Not straight. Not carefully. Maybe not at all.
(If he'd thought this was a possible reaction, even in the slightest of chances, he never would have opened that app at all.)
Yuri isn't looking at him, and he has to reach out, shifting onto his knees at Yuri's side, one hand lifting, wondering if he'd even be allowed to touch Yuri's face, his neck, his shoulder right now. "I felt so lucky, it seemed wrong to keep it to myself."
Yuri hasn't grown up in the public eye the way he has. Over a decade of every move being watched, recorded, dissected, and discussed, and he's gotten used to it, almost considers it to be the norm, now, even if he knows it isn't. That it isn't for Yuri, and not for most people even in his position, either, but he's never minded. Probably he should have, this time, but it's impossible to know for sure now.
Which only leaves him feeling even more helpless, as his hand drops again, to his own knee, and he's searching Yuri's face for some sort of sign that this isn't it, but all he has in his own defense is still, only: "I'm sorry."