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It’s been a long week.
Practice alone should be hard enough, but Viktor’s an unexpectedly persistent coach, which adds a headache to Yuuri’s leg ache, backache, and growing list of regrets.
He really shouldn’t be complaining though. He’s the one who wants this after all, and he can’t help but get excited at the fact that his idol is here because he wants to be here, he wants to coach him.
But does Yurio have to be present at his practice times too? Yuuri already gets enough sass when he’s at home, but having to endure constant remarks about his weight or being incompetent take a toll on his self esteem. Yuuri can’t help that he’s a sensitive guy. That’s just how he’s wired.
Training is hard, dealing with new people is harder, and having those new people live with Yuuri in his own house is one of the hardest things he’s managed to do.
To reiterate; it’s been a long week.
And Yuuri thinks he deserves some vices. Not the getting wasted kind, but sneaking a bowl of katsudon after he makes sure Viktor and Yuri are out. Sleep comes early on a full stomach, and he finds himself almost half asleep while brushing his teeth.
He manages to make his way upstairs to his room, and collapses on the futon, not bothering to pull up the blanket as he dozes off.
Just as he’s on the brink of sleep, there’s pounding on his bedroom door.
“Kobuta-chan! Yurio and I have returned from our run!”
There’s a brief scuffle on the other side of the door and a muffled growl of I’m not Yurio finds its way into his ears. With every spoken word, Yuuri’s will to live grows significantly weaker.
He hears footsteps retreat from the door and thinks its safe to assume that they won’t be bothering him for a while. He burrows under the covers and concentrates on sheep. It seems to work for a bit, and Yuuri can feel himself drifting off again until-
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Yuuri wonders if becoming a skating champion is worth sacrificing his sleep schedule.
“Yuuri! Let me sleep with you! Yurio locked his door, and I’m lonely!”
He contemplates jumping out the window with his blanket and sleeping outside.
“Also, perfectly valid coaching reasons!”
Yuuri throws open the door. Victor is standing there with Makkachin, pillow under one arm and a hand rubbing at his eyes. Yuuri stands there for a second. The silence breaks as Victor yawns and Makkachin sneezes.
Yuuri lets them in.
And without so much as a thank you, Victor flops onto the middle of Yuuri’s futon and promptly falls asleep. Too tired to get another one, he settles down beside him and tries not to think too much about having another person in his bed.
A couple of minutes later, Yuuri shifts himself until he faces Victor’s back. An old worn t-shirt a few sizes too big on his frame drapes across his back and reveals the nape of his neck. Yuuri can see the bumps of his spine where his shirt exposes him and turns away quickly. He should be at least a little pissed off that Victor is bothering him, stealing half his futon and bringing the dog too, and he can’t shake the urge to wake Victor up and have a serious talk about boundaries and professionalism.
Who is he kidding? Professionalism was thrown out the window as soon as Victor pronounced himself Yuuri’s new coach while he was still in the onsen. And naked.
Yuuri finds out something new about Victor in addition to him being a terrible guest; he spoons in his sleep. Just as Yuuri gets comfortable in the futon, he feels a warm body press against his in the dark. He waits for Victor to laugh and play it off as a joke, but the body stays there. Who is he to refuse the extra warmth? Because that’s definitely all it is. Just for one night, Victor’s status changes from skating coach to deluxe hot water bottle.
Even though the room is a little warm, Yuuri finds himself sinking into the embrace without a second thought.
And that’s totally okay, because it’s just for one night.
But Yuuri goes back on that self-made promise and lets him stay another night. Then another. They end up sleeping together all through next week.
Then one night, Victor isn’t anywhere to be found in his room when Yuuri comes back from brushing his teeth. He checks back in his room to see if he went back to get something, but the room is dark and there’s nobody inside.
Then he hears it.
“Yurio still sleeps with his tiger plushie? Wait… There are two? How many more are you hiding?”
Yuuri can hear Victor’s laughter clearly through the door and knocks tentatively. Yurio opens the door, scowling and clutching a stuffed animal to his chest. “What do you want?”
“You really should be a little more polite to your host, don’t you think?” Yuuri says lightly and peeks over his shoulder at Victor who seems to be wrestling a tiger plushie from Makkachin’s mouth. Victor spots him and smiles.
“Yuuri, I’m going to be sleeping with Yurio this week. You can’t keep me all to yourself, you know?” Victor winks and Yurio pushes the door closed.
It’s then that Yuuri realizes he’s been frowning throughout the entire exchange. He rubs his face a little, trying to shake the feeling of unease. It follows him all the way back to his futon. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he tries to calm himself down, but no go. Something is unfurling deep in his chest and he can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
Yuuri spends a large part of the night thinking.
Which is stupid, looking back, because he’s a zombie at practice the next day.
“Yuuri, put more energy into that triple axel. You won’t be able to surprise people with all that eros if you aren’t focused, are you?”
Victor motions for him to come closer and inspects his face thoroughly.
“How much sleep did you get last night?”
Victor moves closer and furrows his eyebrows at the dark circles under Yuuri’s eyes. He’s overcome with the sudden urge to apologize.
“I-I’m really sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night, so my concentration’s a bit off.” Victor sighs and moves out of his space. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?”
“No!”
Victor’s eyes widen. Yuuri can feel a blush form on his face against the cool air of the rink and turns away.
“I’ll try the triple axel again.”
Before he has the chance to go, Victor grabs his arm. He leans in closer than before, setting off all of Yuuri’s senses on high alert. Suddenly, his face lights up like a damn Christmas tree.
“It’s a girl, isn’t it?”
The pure shock of the statement sends Yuuri flying backwards onto his ass. Disbelief colors his face an ash grey, because what the hell. Was Victor always this tactless? It’s not a girl. Of course it’s not a girl, it’s…
What is it?
Yuuri picks himself up and skates past Victor wordlessly, sure he can hear his hammering pulse under his shirt.
He recalls the tightening in his chest when Victor wasn’t there that night.
Was he being jealous? Jealous of Yurio for being so close with Victor?
Yuuri finds the answer he wasn’t looking for and suddenly feels very claustrophobic, even with the lofty ceiling of the skating rink.
“I actually don’t feel that well. I’m going back home.” He pauses and looks back at Victor who looks a little stunned and hurt.
“I’m sorry.”
There’s an awkward silence for a bit. Yuuri mentally slaps himself. Victor arranges his bangs and clears his throat.
“It’s alright, Yuuri. I’ll see you back at home?”
The fact that Victor poses it as a question both frustrates and relieves him. He hadn’t meant to seem as harsh as he did, but having Victor upset over him fills Yuuri with a sort of vindictive satisfaction. A part of him feels like he shouldn’t think that way, but the other is laughing as Victor grovels at his feet. With that visual in mind, Yuuri unties his laces and hurries out the door.
He passes Yurio in the hallway as he slings his bag over his shoulder.
“Done already, fatass? Did Victor’s training break you that fast?” Yurio rocks onto the tips of his toes and glares at him. Usually, Yuuri can see past the long blonde hair and tiger sweatshirt at the real Yurio who’s just a fifteen year old kid. He can sympathize. He was also fifteen once, believe it or not. Usually he can brush off those comments with a smile or katsudon to bring back the peace.
This is not one of those days.
“Get out of my way, Yurio.” He seems pretty surprised, surprised enough to not forcefully remind Yuuri that my name isn’t Yurio, dammit. Yuuri takes the opportunity to push past him. The second he’s sure that he can’t see him anymore, he sprints out the door and onto the sidewalk.
Giving himself a couple of seconds to catch his breath, he squints at the setting sun and sighs. Would it kill him to act like a normal person around Victor? Just for once?
It probably would.
Because Yuuri knows he wants to be anything but just another ordinary person to Victor. He’s already proven that he’s not, if the fact that Victor’s here coaching him isn’t enough. But there’s something else he wants, and he’s not sure what to do.
It’s been there since he was young. Victor managed to pull at all his strings and light fires in the pit of his stomach, even though the only interaction he’d had was watching through a screen.
Something about him makes Yuuri feel alive with passion.
So when Victor comes home later that evening, Yuuri greets him tentatively and makes a request.
“Can you sleep with me tonight, Victor?” Yuuri cheeks turn hot and he presses the heels of his palms together in anticipation. Victor’s eyes fill with tears and he picks Yuuri up and runs around in a tight circle. It’s not exactly the expected reaction, but Yuuri’ll take it if it means that the uneasy tension between them will go away.
“You weren’t mad at me, Kobuta-chan?” Yuuri face contorts into an agitated expression. Victor takes that as his cue to put him down.
“But, to answer your question, yes. I will sleep with you tonight instead of Yurio to make up for our little spat back there at the rink.”
Yuuri can feel the grip on his chest loosen until he feels lighter than air. He floats up the stairs and brushes his teeth, then floats back to his room to wait.
And falls asleep before he can discuss anything with Victor.
Only after the lights have been turned off and Victor falls asleep beside Yuuri is when he wakes up. He rubs his eyes sleepily at the still form next to him and slides on his glasses.
A thin moonbeam cascades through the window onto Victor’s hair. Yuuri feels a brief rush of thrill. He notices that his silver bangs have fallen into his eyes and itches to brush them out of his face.
So he does.
As he thread his fingers through his soft hair, an ineffable fondness rolls off of him in waves. He touches Victor’s face lightly, as if mapping out his skin and memorizing every detail.
He’s even more beautiful when he’s asleep.
And Yuuri would totally keep doing what he’s doing, even if it was deemed societally unacceptable and just a tad creepy.
Victor waking up in the middle of his petting session ruins that plan.
Yuuri withdraws his hand immediately and has four excuses prepared just in case he asks questions.
“Is something wrong?”
Nothing’s wrong, he wants to tell him.
But that would be a lie. And Yuuri sucks at lying.
So he takes everything, every feeling, all his passion, all the eros he has inside, and answers as truthfully as possible.
Victor must be as shocked as he is at his sudden boldness because there’s a small pause. Their lips are kind of smashed together and the angle makes Yuuri’s neck hurt. Just as he's about to break it off, Victor's lips melt against his and he starts to kiss back.
His slim fingers run up the length of Yuuri’s back, bunching up the material of his shirt. Yuuri strokes the knobs of Victor’s spine, his shoulder blades, and everything else in between.
Though it’s soft and delicate in nature, the force of what they’re doing takes Yuuri’s breath away. His breath hitches as Victor’s tongue slides against his, tasting like toothpaste and something distinct, something extremely -
“Victor…”
Yuuri pulls back for second, embarrassed. His face goes red and he feels indignant humiliation bubbling up inside of him as Victor looks on.
He gesticulates wildly for a second, trying to find the words to say.
“W-we don’t have to “do it” tonight if you don’t want to!”
Then the worst thing in the world happens to Yuuri.
Victor starts laughing.
And not only that, but he starts rolling around on the floor, hand over his mouth and shoulders shaking.
He has never been so mortified in his entire life.
“Yuuri, I never thought you’d think these kinds of dirty thoughts!” Victor wipes the tears from his eyes as his laughter begins to simmer down. “But if you’re up for it…”
He pushes Yuuri back onto the futon and pins his arms above his head. His eyes glint with something that sparks heat all over his skin.
“I am too.”
The next morning, Yurio asks them why they both look so tired.
The two share a secret glance and turn a little red as they giggle into their palms like they have something to hide.
He huffs and starts off towards the ice rink by himself, muttering something about stupid adults as he passes them.
As soon as he’s out of sight, they intertwine their fingers and walk at their own pace. Victor plants a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek and snickers at his reaction.
Stupid adults, indeed.