Oh, he loves this. The way Yuri tips in towards him, like an iron filing falling towards a magnet. The way Yuri's eyes can't seem to stop moving across his face, behind those cute glasses of his. And especially the way his name drops out of his mouth, strangled and confused. He hasn't heard Yuri say it like that since the first time he showed up at Yu-topia, waiting there in the hot spring for him, and it makes his smile spread in a slow and satisfied curve.

(He'd never understood why this hadn't worked. it had never not worked, before, until Yuri and his inexplicable immunity to Victor's charms.

Until now. Can he really be blamed for wanting to soak it all in, let it puff into his head like hot air and fill his ears with buzzing?)

"Yuri."

His voice is amused, if also pitched low, but he only has so much capacity for teasing when Yuri's eyes keep drifting toward his mouth and Yuri pitched towards him in an abortive reflex, and when all it takes is to tip his head a little further and lean, while tugging Yuri's chin towards him.

Besides, it's easier to steal Yuri's bag when he's distracted, and when Victor pulls back, he has the bag in hand, at his side, and the beginnings of a sparkling smile on his face. "Come on. You should ice that hip and get some rest."

Sensible words, when sensible is the last thing he's feeling, can't touch this floaty giddiness that seems to have turned him back into a teenager, cocky and arrogantly sure of himself.

Thumb tracing along Yuri's jaw, just the way he remembers doing, mouth quirking like it's an inside joke. "Don't you want to come with me?"