Chapter Text
The fork tore through the fragile flesh of the egg. Vitaly glowered at the sullied yolk ooze over the grains of rice in the bowl before stabbing his egg again. The fork clinked against the plastic in a craze when a larger hand rested over his.
“Now what did the egg do to you?” Victor asked. Vitaly blankly stared at Victor until he collapsed over the table. He clenched his chest, scrunching his blue striped shirt in his fist, and cried, “Such cruelty on an innocent only wanting to feed you!”
Vitaly wrinkled his nose at the weeping man, his teeth sinking into his lip to hold back a giggle. “You’re weird.”
Victor’s lips puckered into a pout. “I am?” He poked at Vitaly’s cheek. “What a shame for you then. You’re going to get all of my weirdness when you get older.”
“Am not.” Vitaly replied.
“Are too.”
“Papa!”
Victor narrowed his eyes on the boy and leaned close to him. “Will you stop hurting poor Egg-san?” His voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “Think about all the loved ones he left behind just to make you strong.”
“Fine,” Vitaly rolled his eyes, swatting away at the man’s fingers. “I’m sorry Egg.”
“That’s Egg-san.” Victor said.
“I’m sorry Egg-san!”
Victor snorted into his fist, reaching over to ruffle Vitaly’s hair. The brushed back strands of silver fell over his brow and he groaned into the bowl. Victor held back a chuckle at the icy eyes glaring at him, before retreating back to the stove in one leap. The kitchen was as cramped as the bedrooms, albeit slightly more spacious than the closets, allowing anyone to step into any part of the quarters without hardly taking a step. The walls outside of the bedrooms were a dark eggshell white with its paint seeping into cracks stretching over every surface. With everything so compact, all they were able to bring into the hovel of a home was a miniscule, fold up table, the only barrier that signaled which step took you where.
Vitaly yearned for the warm press of oak against his elbows as he scattered cookie crumbs all over their large dining table along with being seated in chairs he dared call thrones. Crumbling plastic wrap pressing against the back of his knees quickly wiped the illusion away however. He glanced up at Victor scraping his egg into his bowl, the corners of his lips turned into a frown.
“Papa,” Vitaly said.
Victor hummed in response, glancing over his shoulder at him. Vitaly fiddled with the end of his fork meekly. Their last conversations mulled through his head as he picked his next words carefully.
“When are we going to stop moving?” He asked.
Victor’s brows furrowed. He turned back to dip the pan into the sink. The rough scrubbing and rushing water filled the space between Vitaly and Victor. Vitaly sighed resignedly, picking at his soggy rice.
“Soon.”
The boy blinked at his Papa’s back. He set the pan aside, leaning against the countertop with his head bowed. Victor gave him a tired smile crinkled from months of packing, carrying, and goodbyes only to bring them only a foot of the way to the finish line.
“Soon. I promise.”
Vitaly blinked at the man before dropping his gaze. If there was one thing Vitaly knew about his father, it was that his promises never fell.
He fumbled with brushing his hair back from his face before tucking it behind his ears with a huff. He scooped his yellow soaked rice on his fork. He gave a tentative chew of the mush squishing across his tongue just as Victor joined him with a bowl of his own. Vitaly glanced at the seared egg scrambled across the expanse of rice and eyed Victor curiously. The man brought his forkful to his mouth, his face blanching at the crunch that sounded against his teeth.
“How’s yours?” Victor asked around his fork.
Vitaly quickly scooped another bite into his mouth. “Fine.”
“But yours looks runny. Why don’t I take it off your hands?” Victor reached for Vitaly’s bowl only for the bowl to hold it away from him.
“Nope. It’s good. The best!”
“Then you won’t mind sharing with Papa right?”
Vitaly tucked his bowl against his side as the man stretched his arms. Victor’s eyes widened at him, puckering his bottom lip.
“You’re going to let your own Papa starve?” Victor wailed, dropping his face into his hands with a sob.
Vitaly sighed heavily before holding his fork towards him. Victor instantly wrapped his mouth around the fork. The grin on his face fell as he pulled away.
“It’s runny,” he said.
“You made it,” Vitaly replied.
“Yeah…” Victor opened his mouth and pointed to it.
“No.”
“But—”
“No!”
Victor was about to reach for the boy’s bowl again when he yelped at a hand swatted the back of his head. The two froze at the raven haired man that towered over them with a firm line rooted to his lips.
“Yuuri,” Victor whimpered, cradling his head. “That hurt.”
Yuuri shot him a pointed glare as he rounded around the table towards the kitchen.
“It’s bad enough having you wake Yulian up,” Yuuri said, fishing for a peach in a bag by the refrigerator. He plucked one out with a patch of black spots decorating its bottom half. “I don’t need you both waking him up again.”
Vitaly shrunk into his chair at Yuuri’s tone, scraping the sides of his bowl nimbly. Victor stretched out his arm to wrap around Yuuri’s waist. He nuzzled his face into Yuuri’s side.
“He can sleep more on our way out,” Victor said. “He can sleep through the end of the world.”
“Then you deal with him when he wakes up.”
The color drained from Victor’s face, his nuzzling quickly turning into vicious grinding. His pleas ran together in a blur of how their youngest loved Yuuri more than him while tears stained the waist band of the man’s jogging pants. Vitaly’s brows furrowed, his hand twitching to pat his father’s back when he caught Yuuri’s gaze. The man’s glare on him never waned, though he pressed his rotting peach hard against his mouth to hide his smirk. Vitaly’s hand retreated to stuff the last of his breakfast in his mouth, ignoring the feeling of being the odd one out again that morning.
“I might feel merciful if you try to convince him this time about not using the pacifier,” Yuuri said, patting the other man’s head. He turned his gaze towards the boy hiding his face in his bowl. “Vitaly, have you packed everything up?”
Like we even brought anything to begin with, Vitaly swallowed his last mouthful along with his words. “Almost.”
“Vitalik,” Yuuri sighed, “how many times did I tell you last night to make sure you were ready?”
“Couldn’t hear you over Crybaby’s whining.” Vitaly set his bowl down with more force than he meant to.
The chair screeched from under him as he padded down the hallway. Vitaly closed out the call of his name behind him and sank to the floor. He tuned out the muffling beyond the door and crawled over to stuff the last of things in his backpack. He carefully tucked his stuffed leopard seal into his bag before sliding in his coloring book. Just as he curled it around the seal, a page fluttered out of the book.
He squinted down at the page filled with colorful snow beds and dark blue sky. The scenery surrounded two grown figures sporting gray and black hair on skates while holding hands with smaller versions of themselves; though the miniature version of the black haired figure had tiny fangs peeking from its mouth. Vitaly held the paper in his hands, shaking off any crayon flakes from the page before sliding it back into his book.
“Soon.” Vitaly sighed under his breath. “Soon.”