Barely a step away, Yuri crumples, and the answer is stamped across his face even before it appears as that mumbled apology, but Victor can't really parse it at all, because something in the back of his head just went puttt and he has lost the ability to think. Relief flooding like stepping into the hot spring, warm water everywhere, chasing goosebumps up his skin and shoving him up off the bed in a quick motion that barely even registers.

Is that it? Is that all?

He was. And Yuri hadn't. First. First. The only one to ever.

There are dull thudding explosions happening inside his chest, and he could be wrong, but he's pretty sure the lights of Shanghai have suddenly gone up in a blaze of fireworks, because all he sees around Yuri's face are hazy, sparkling flashes. If his eyes were replaced by huge and shining cartoon hearts, they couldn't be anymore of an open door into the way his heart is bursting. He was Yuri's first kiss. And Yuri is standing here looking ashamed of it, as if Victor could possibly care, as if it matters at all, as if that might be some sort of dealbreaker. "Oh, Yuri."

Standing there looking like he wants the floor to swallow him, and it is well past the legal limits of what should be considered adorable, but Victor doesn't care, can't, can only lift his hand to the spot on his chest under which his heart is cracking into a thousand glowing pieces. Relief turned him on his head, all the fears and worries and uncertainties of a moment ago washed away in the same flash flood that seems to have obliterated his sanity, as well. "I'm honored."

It's all he can say before he's pressing himself close and his hands have found Yuri's face again, thumbs tracking along the line of his jaw ––

(his skin is soft and warm and it sends a hard shake down along his arms, into his shoulders and back)

–– and kisses him again. And again.

And again.