Chapter Text
It was unusually cold weather for the end of April in Russia when Yuuri finally landed at the airport. The skating season had been over for a few weeks, so he had gone home to Hasetsu and spent some time with his family. Victor had had some things to take care of at home, so they’d been forced to spend some time apart. Skype was nice, but with time differences and a sudden lack of physical contact it wasn’t very fulfilling.
When Yurio’s birthday was being celebrated almost a month late it was a good enough excuse for Victor to buy Yuuri a plane ticket. Three weeks felt like a lifetime so a trip to Russia, although extravagant, hadn’t taken Yuuri long to accept as a gift. The flight was long, the weather when he arrived was frigid, and he was going to see Victor shortly so it was all okay.
His flight had been delayed on the way out, so he was already late before he’d even landed. The only flight available hadn’t left much time to make it to Yurio’s party after landing, but he’d taken it anyway. He could only hope they wouldn’t be too disappointed with his fashionably late arrival. He’d told Victor before his flight left to just stay at the party and he’d take a taxi, to which Victor had reluctantly agreed. They both knew Yurio was not known for his forgiving nature, best to keep his wrath directed to only one person if possible.
It was dark out and getting late fast, so Yuuri got the first taxi he could and managed to fumble through a poorly worded Russian explanation of his intended destination. The skies couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to spit hail or rain, and even with the heat on it felt cold in the back of the cab.
Yuuri pulled out his phone and checked Instagram idly. There were a few photos already of the festivities happening at Yurio’s party. It looked like even though it was a party for a newly 16 year old someone had brought plenty of alcoholic options for the attending guests. He had just opened his text messages to let Victor know he would be there soon when he felt the car lose traction.
There was a low whirring noise while they tires spun fruitlessly on ice and he had just enough time to look up before there was an explosion of sound. The first thing he felt was the seatbelt pulling taut and straining at his shoulder and hip, then he fumbled his phone and it bounced to the floor be his feet.
Everything after happened faster than he could comprehend. The window on his left exploded into tiny pieces that rained down on the empty seat next to him. His stomach dropped for the fraction of a second while the car skidded before it came to an abrupt and deafening stop, slamming his whole right side into the door next to him before being thrown forward and hitting his face on the back of the seat in front of him.
Everything was dead silent until he heard the cab driver curse something and a door crunch open. He knew something felt wrong, but he couldn’t point to anywhere in particular on his body that hurt. Someone took him by the arm and hauled him bodily out of the car into the jarring cold where he was instantly pelted by rain that felt way too cold to not be frozen already.
Someone was speaking to him but it was Russian but he couldn’t manage to catch any of the words, they were speaking too quickly. He nearly slipped on a patch of ice before the cab driver led him to sit on the curb of the road and handed him an umbrella to hold. He couldn’t be sure, but based on the hand signals he was given they meant for him to stay there.
The cab driver proceeded to have vigorous words with someone right in the middle of the road, surrounded by assorted crushed glass. He could only see the bumper of the car from his seat on the ground, but it looked undamaged. The police showed up and tried to talk to him, but once they realized the language barrier they left him alone again and went back to the taxi driver.
Eventually the police came back and helped him to his feet, leading him towards their car. Was he being arrested? For what? He didn’t have much choice in the matter and got into the back seat without protest. At least it was warm in there, he hadn’t realized how cold he’d gotten sitting outside.
The car took off and he didn’t realize where they were going until they stopped and opened the door to let him out. They were outside Victor’s apartment, where he’d been hoping to end up at the beginning of his ill-fated cab ride. Without any further fanfare they left him standing there alone and drove off.
Yuuri had been in Victor’s apartment a few times before, so it was familiar. He stepped inside the first set of doors and pressed the buzzer labeled ‘nikiforov’. The silence afterwards was long and he leaned against the wall while waiting, feeling bone deep fatigue. How late was it, had he missed Yurio’s party?
“-llo?” came a scratchy reply finally.
“Victor? Sorry I’m so late, I-” Yuuri started but the buzzer rang him in before he could even finish speaking.
“I’m coming right down!” the speaker blared for a second before Yuuri pushed the now unlocked door open. It was blessedly warm inside.
He barely had time to push the button for the elevator before he heard the door to the staircase slam open and Victor skidded out into the hall.
“Yuuri!” he shouted. Victor looked bad, his hair was mussed like it always got when he had been running his fingers through it too much and he didn’t have any shoes on. “I was so worried, where have you been?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Yuuri said while Victor gathered him into a bone cracking hug. Something twinged in his elbow and shoulder when squeezed and Victor let him go.
“I’ve been calling, why didn’t you answer?” Victor asked, sounding desperate and a little broken.
“Oh…?” Yuuri patted his pocket but found his phone wasn’t there. He realized all at once it was still in the cab along with his luggage and possibly also his missing glasses. “I don’t have it, sorry…”
Victor took him by the shoulders and they both looked down at the quiet noise when a few small pieces of glass fell to the floor. Yuuri straightened his jacket and found a number of stowaway glass pellets tucked in the folds of his clothes from the car’s broken window.
Yuuri managed to convince Victor that they should head upstairs before continuing; he had started his travel day nearly a whole day ago and it felt like days since he’d been in a private space. Victor kept a loose arm around his shoulder in the elevator on the way up, leaning over him like he didn’t want to let go. Makkachin was standing outside the elevator when it finally opened, like he’d been waiting. Victor, in his haste, had apparently left his apartment door open on the way down.
Yuuri peeled off his jacket once they were inside, toeing off his shoes to find another few stowaway glass pellets. Makkachin was busy trying to get his attention while he picked them up and tucked them into a pocket; no need to court disaster knowing how Makkachin found trouble.
“What happened Yuuri?” Victor asked, stopping him and gently taking Yuuri’s face in his hands. Victor’s palms felt so warm against his cold cheeks, he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. It had been three weeks since he’d last felt this.
“Bad travel day,” he sighed and opened his eyes. The apartment was noticeably empty, though plates and cups were scattered over most level surfaces. His heart sank. “I missed the party.”
Victor didn’t seem to accept his answer or deflection, just kept staring straight at him.
“I’m fine, really!” Yuuri assured him, gently removing Victor’s hands from his face. “My plane left late and got in super late, and I had to wait for a taxi, then on the way here there was a small car accident-“
Victor’s eyes got wide.
“-but I’m fine!” he squeaked. “Mostly I’m just very tired?”
Victor sighed and gently collected Yuri into his arms again, silently burying his face in his hair and holding him as close as he could get. Yuuri sighed, letting his hands tangle in the soft sweater Victor had on and relaxing into the embrace. His clothes were dirty and he was freezing cold but everything felt fine all the sudden. They only parted when Makkachin started pawing at their legs, refusing to take the lack of attention without rebuke.
Victor gave him a pair of night clothes to wear and reluctantly relinquished physical contact with Yuuri to let him go shower. Everything felt blurry around the edges in the shower, and not just because he was missing his glasses, it just reminded him how tired he was. The hot water warmed him up but it was torture knowing that Victor was waiting for him in the next room so he finished up quickly and slipped into the slightly too big pajamas.
Yuuri stumbled out of the bathroom to find Victor cuddling Makkachin on the bed, looking pleased. Victor extended a hand of invitation and Yuuri practically fell into him and it felt like home. The bed was soft and so heavenly he ached. He didn’t even have it in him to protest when Victor dragged them both under the blanket, and was asleep before he knew it was happening.