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“I know you tried to surprise me by sneaking back in. I hate to admit it but I kinda knew you’d come back a day early,” Yuuri grumbled sleepily as he turned around in Victor’s cold arms offendingly stealing the warmth he had curated throughout the night. “I didn’t marry you and move across the world to be with you just to continue missing you. I was doing the missing thing just fine back in Japan.” He hated himself as soon as the words left his mouth. He shouldn’t be making Victor choose between him and his job. He was honestly going for playful pretend grumbling until Victor could silence him in an effective way but his hurt poked through too viscerally and laced his words with resentment. The selfish part of him could only be pleased if he returned the hurt. He didn’t like himself right now.
His darling husband was really a psychic in moments like these, completely aware of the inner workings of his mind. Yuuri hated himself even more when instead of a passive aggressive retort, he found himself receiving a warm kiss on his lips and a sad smile reflected in Victor’s eyes. Victor’s lips were managing to replace his hurtful thoughts with greedy ones. Victor pulled back. “There, I kissed it better. Tell me where else it hurts.”
Yuuri wanted to say everywhere. Instead, he just said, “I’m sorry."
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I can be mean when I’m insecure. And I get insecure because I feel like I get left behind when you leave.”
“I leave myself behind, as well, when I go. A man doesn’t exist without his heart.” The mischievous smirk in Victor’s eyes was unmistakable.
Yuuri closed his eyes in mock disgust, “Which hallmark movie is that line from? I should write to them and let them know they’ve corrupted my husband. They have turned him into a love-struck fool.”
The smile on Victor’s face morphed into an expression that tugged at Yuuri’s heart.
“I think you know they shouldn’t be blamed for that transformation,” Victor caressed Yuuri’s cheek with his thumb. It was impossible to look away from his eyes. Victor exhaled a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry too for leaving you so often,” he whispered. “I’d do anything to take that hurt away from your eyes. Tell me what you want.”
Never in his wildest imagination had he ever considered that he’d become a resentful spouse, waiting on the dinner table for his husband to return. Touch starved. Pathetic. He didn’t want to be those things. He made a decision. He wasn’t going to be those things anymore.
“What I want is my proper job back. I think I have played house enough to last me a lifetime. I had thought that after moving here, I probably would need some time off to adjust but the only way to adjust is throw myself back into work. Why’d I ever stop?”
It was a rhetorical question. Victor answered anyway. “You stopped because it was killing you.”
“Yes, because I’m the idiot that makes everything so intense. It always has to be all or none with me. I’m either burning myself out or boring myself to death,” he stopped with a horrendous realization, “I’m doing the same with you too aren’t I? Demanding complete attention. Surrender. I’m suffocating you,” he sobbed.
Victor tightened his embrace around Yuuri. “Your passion is why I fell in love with you, Yuuri. Never question that. I love every aspect of you. I’m just concerned sometimes when I see that it’s hurting you! We need to find a healthy balance, that’s all.”
And as Victor started talking, he felt his worries melt away.They will resurface again but he knew Victor will be there for it all. He felt happy, giddy. He was back in Victor’s arms.
The future and his anxiety could fuck off for the time being.
He muttered a thank you pressed to Victor’s shoulder. He’d leave the planning to the morning.