Chapter Text
“How long… how long should we… “
Otabek’s voice was a whisper in the hallway, carefully glancing around the corner and keeping his eyes on the figure in the reading chair, that clung tightly on a sweatshirt, burying his face inside, and deeply inhaling the scent of the person, he could no longer see. The person whose voice no longer could be heard in their home, whose presence didn’t linger in their bed or anywhere they had spent time together in the past five years. Every piece of furniture a reminder of when they had picked it and the hours, they spent close to it, all books’ doors to different worlds they had explored together – in every single dust piece there was a reminder of his love, of his soulmate and oxygen. His oxygen that, now that it was missing, made him feel as if he suffocated. No matter how much he breathed, every day felt it got harder to breath, to exist, a world now in pitch black. Pitch black with grey flowers of sadness and grief, regret, and pain. Victor almost longed for the time he could still experience those feelings, after the first couple of weeks everything had just become numb. Sure, he wasn’t drowning in tears anymore, now he was getting suffocated by emptiness.
“… till we have to call a psychiatry and get him admitted? “
The taller man slowly nodded and brought his attention to his loved one, who was leaning against the other wall of the hallway, eyes closed, and arms crossed over his pitch—black outfit. No tigers this time, no tigers for the past three months since Yuuri had passed away. Sure, he had been annoyed by the horrible skater with the same name. He was a thorn in his eye, an annoyance and even snatched his choreograph away. He had hated him at first, and almost a year later at the Grand Prix final… he could feel himself even wishing luck to the katsudon. He still found him annoying, still couldn’t help but roll his eyes whenever Victor and Yuuri were sweet with each other – but during the years that followed they grew closer, closer than Yuri had ever expected. The younger still rolled his eyes when the older talked about Vitya’s overly sweet gestures, the wish to puke on his tongue… but he was glad. Both seemed to be happy with each other and while he couldn’t help still getting annoyed by them, it was good having them around. It was a nice contrast to the more reserved relationship him and Otabek had outside the doors of their apartment, and katsudon had been a help more than once when Yuri wasn’t sure how to… handle things while being considerate to his partner’s emotions.
“Maybe we should have done it two months ago already, “the blond confessed and let out a quiet sigh. “But… as long as he shows that he is trying to live… “
The raven-haired man slowly nodded, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder before going back to the kitchen and carefully starting to put the sandwiches on the plate, before walking back inside the living room and sitting down on the small coffee table in front of Victor. Sure, there had been a second reading chair but…
“T-t-that’s Yuuri’s seat… Why… don’t…”
Victor’s voice was trembling, eyeing the Kazakh in horror.
“I… Vic- “
“That’s yuuri’s chair… “he sobbed, pearl-like tears rolling down his cheeks and wetting them in mere seconds. “That’s… only Yuuri can sit there… that’s Yuuri’s…”
Seeing how his friend was starting to hyperventilate, he quickly moved out of the chair and to the other side, carefully taking him into a hug. At first, the older tried to wrestle himself out of it, panic and anxiety shaking him and his survival instincts lashing loose. But soon, after a couple of minutes, the man started to calm, hands clinging onto the cotton of Otabek’s shirt.
“Don’t worry… no one will sit in Yuuri’s chair, okay? I’ll make sure of it, “ he promised sweetly, his eyes darting to the door were Yuri was standing, face filled with worry and sorrow…
Otabek had kept his promise, and no one had touched the seat, the blue velvet that perfectly matched victors eye colour and that had a soft furry blanket draped over the headrest – one Yuuri had always buried himself inside. He had never seen it himself, but the wallpaper of Victor’s phone had more than once carried a picture of the Japanese man in said environment, sleeping or just listening to Victor reading a book.
“Victor… I brought you some sandwiches… you should eat something…please?”
In any other circumstance, Yuri would have frowned over the sickly sweet, almost sugarish voice his husband used… a privilege only he was normally allowed to witness… but then again, if it could give just the slightest bit of comfort or warmth to the eldest, he’d allow it in a heratbeat.
“Then… can Yuuri make me one? His sandwiches are so tasty… He always puts a thousand island dressing, tomatoes and then bacon… oh and peanut butter! I found the idea disgusting at first but once you tried it… can he make me some?”
Both Otabek and Yuri could feel their heart shatter at the glow in the elder’s eyes, the way his face lightened up in happiness and joy…
It had been a reoccurring thing that started mere hours after Yuuri’s funeral… Victor was starting to sway between the reality and a world were none of this had happened. Were Yuuri was alive, and everything was just like before… They had thought of it as a phase, a way Victor tried to cope with suddenly losing the love of his life, the person that meant everything to him. Trying to softly nudge him in the direction of reality… it had been as useless of an attempt as it sounded like.
“Victor… he… Yuuri…”
The eldest’s face suddenly fell, turning as emotionless as it had been for… weeks if not months already. A dry sob was all that prove his remembrance, how Otabek’s silence had reminded that there would never be Yuuri making him a sandwich, because there was no Yuuri anymore. His hands dug deeper into the soft material of the shirt, pulling it close to his face and chest and breathing in the barely noticeable scent of Yuuri’s favourite shampoo and bodywash. Another dry sob followed, and his hands started to tremble once again, soon embraced by Yuri. It was the first time he had stepped in, the first time he had thrown his dislike for comforting other’s and emotions out of the window and held the shaking figure in his arms tightly.
“It’s alright… we are here, “ he murmured again and again, the only line he could really think of, the only thing that came easily from his heart.
***
“Victor… I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?”
Yuri didn’t need to wait for a reaction, he knew already there wouldn’t be one. There was never one. He gave his friend a last glance, whom they had helped to get into the guest bed just a couple minutes ago, before exiting the apartment and closing the door behind themselves. Their walk was quiet, even quieter than usual, stretching the way down to their car to what felt like an eternity. The younger had dropped his almost kind expression the second the door was close, a big frown and exhaustion making him look at least like 30 now. The bags under his eyes had grown, the past months taking a bigger toll on him than he would have ever admitted, even to Otabek. He tried his best being there for Victor, even if he wasn’t a person that could be there for someone in away the other would need it. While Otabek took over the comforting and emotional part, he made sure the fridge was stuffed with enough food, the pays were billed, Makkachin got his walks and… that there were always fresh beautiful flowers in front of Yuuri’s shrine in their former bedroom.
“Yuratchka….”
Otabek’s hands stopped him and turned him around, giving the smaller one time to get out of his thoughts and finally look up to the concerned face.
“I… I feel him slipping away… “ He whispered, so careful as if Victor was mere metres away and might be able to hear it. Of course, he wasn’t, there were probably a good 100m between them right now… but still…
“Yuratchka…”
“I think I am losing him too… I knew he would be miserable after Yuuri killed himself. I knew he would feel so guilty that he would struggle to continue… I knew how much they both needed each other to be able to get through all the struggles…. But this…” A single tear rolled down his cheek, a soft whimper followed short after and Yuri could feel his legs softly giving out. But before his body could tumble, strong arms had caught and steadied him already.
“How long has it been since you got more than just 2 or 3 hours of sleep?” The Kazakh softly asked and scooped the smaller figure in his arms, carrying him to their car. He could already see him yawning, trying his best to stay awake.
“Just one day…”
A glance in his direction was enough for him to sigh and just close his eyes, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t gotten more than that every night for the past two weeks. He was exhausted himself, so tired he sometimes forgot where they were and what they were buying when grocery shopping… and while he knew that he could only help Victor if he was ‘fit’, he gave a shit.
It didn’t take much time getting his husband settled in the car… and the younger man was fast asleep, soft noises ringing through the silence and plastering a warm smile on Otabek’s lips. The lack of sleep, the hours Yuri spent awake every night thinking about ways to help Victor, new things Otabek could make him that might not be as heavily affiliated with Yuri… the way he had lost his sharp tongue and even went out of his way to hug and comfort Victor… Yuri was grieving in his own way, and Otabek had been more than obvious to it. But mentioning it, trying to get Yuri to talk about how he felt after losing a person he was so close with, just a year after his grandpa… Yuri would have just distanced himself. Shut out his feelings even more than he was already doing, trying to be strong with an unwavering shell of indifference, determination, and coldness. He had been coping different than Victor, but no matter on whom Otabek laid his eyes…. He could easily see how Yuuri’s death broke them more and more over time…