His eyebrows push up, curving and pressing together over wide and reproachful eyes, not at all unlike Maccachin's melting dismay when he's been caught sneaking snacks from the kitchen and scolded for it. It hurts, a little, distantly, even if he's aware it's only a bruise to his pride. "Of course it is!"
Everything he's done and said today has been an attempt to help. Well –– almost everything, anyway. The large majority of it. And Yuri was the one who said he wanted Victor to be just Victor, all those months ago. It's not as if he doesn't have worries and fears and doubts like any other person in the world, after all, and the point is, there's nothing Yuri needs to prove to him, and nothing Victor's going to push him towards without Yuri wanting it.
And even with that exasperated noise Yuri makes, and that eye-roll of a question, the fact is that Yuri is pressed all along him, even closer when Victor's hand drops back down to his side and then runs along to his back to tuck Yuri in a little tighter, and his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is slick and a little swollen. Love, apparently, is still wanting to kiss someone who has just called him unhelpful and looked put upon at Victor's attempt to put him more at ease.
(Tchaikovsky had led him to believe there were a deal more magic spells and dramatic confessions immediately before tragic murders, but this is probably better, in the long run, even if Victor feels a little put out.)
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His eyebrows push up, curving and pressing together over wide and reproachful eyes, not at all unlike Maccachin's melting dismay when he's been caught sneaking snacks from the kitchen and scolded for it. It hurts, a little, distantly, even if he's aware it's only a bruise to his pride. "Of course it is!"
Everything he's done and said today has been an attempt to help. Well –– almost everything, anyway. The large majority of it. And Yuri was the one who said he wanted Victor to be just Victor, all those months ago. It's not as if he doesn't have worries and fears and doubts like any other person in the world, after all, and the point is, there's nothing Yuri needs to prove to him, and nothing Victor's going to push him towards without Yuri wanting it.
And even with that exasperated noise Yuri makes, and that eye-roll of a question, the fact is that Yuri is pressed all along him, even closer when Victor's hand drops back down to his side and then runs along to his back to tuck Yuri in a little tighter, and his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is slick and a little swollen. Love, apparently, is still wanting to kiss someone who has just called him unhelpful and looked put upon at Victor's attempt to put him more at ease.
(Tchaikovsky had led him to believe there were a deal more magic spells and dramatic confessions immediately before tragic murders, but this is probably better, in the long run, even if Victor feels a little put out.)