Work Text:
Victor smiles as Yuuri nuzzles into his thigh, an unconscious sigh of bliss escaping his lips. A thin trail of drool also escapes, creating a small wet patch on Victor’s pants, but he can’t be made to care about that right now. Not when Yuuri is so adorably curled up with his head in his lap, fast asleep.
It’s not like this position is rareーfar from itーbut if anything that just makes Victor treasure it more. The reminder of how close he and Yuuri are, how much Yuuri has opened to Victor’s physical contact to the point where he initiates it himself. It’s hard to believe that his sweet affectionate Yuuri, who currently has his head pillowed on Victor’s lap, is the same star-struck boy who had once frantically backpedalled away from Victor’s touches. (Which, to be fair, was completely understandable given the circumstances at the time.)
As Victor gazes fondly at Yuuri’s sleeping form, studying his peaceful complexion, he can’t help but think that he couldn’t find a single flaw if he tried. Well, he corrects himself, smiling as he carefully wipes at the corner of Yuuri’s open mouth, maybe just one. He tenderly brushes Yuuri’s bangs out of his eyes. Then without thinking he runs his fingers through his dark hair, causing him to stir.
Yuuri gives a sleepy sort of hum as he stretches without really moving his body, and some incomprehensible Japanese leaves his lips. His eyes remained closed and he makes no move to get up. The only sign he’s even awake is the hand now moving to his mouth to stifle a yawn, and the Japanese that he once again mumbles when Victor doesn’t respond right away.
“I can’t understand you, love,” Victor says, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. “Try again in English.”
“…Hmm?”
“Eigo,” Victor provides for him. It’s a word Victor has become very familiar with during his time in Japan. He hopes the translation will help.
Yuuri perks up, lifting his head from his makeshift pillow as he blinks sleepily up at Victor. “You made waffles?”
“What?” Victor asks, confused.
“Eggo. Waffles,” Yuuri explains, as if that answers his question. There’s still an endearing slur to his words, complimenting the almost glazed look in Yuuri’s tired brown eyes.
“Um,” Victor says, at a loss for words, now even more confused than before.
Yuuri gives a frustrated groan, though it sounds more tired than anything else. He returns his head to Victor’s thigh and presses his face against it. His next words are muffled, but Victor catches what sounds like a weak, “Nevermind.”
Victor can only laugh, affectionately weaving his fingers through Yuuri’s soft hair.