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A hand fumbles to reach a phone, the bright light momentarily illuminates the room before fading again. The screen had been too bright, too ephemeral. Yuuri had looked at the screen incomprehensibly, unable to tell the time. He pressed the button a second time, squinting against the light. 2:07. The numbers burned against his eyes. Eyes, which were heavy with exhaustion. The screen went dark again, the blackness of the room seemed more oppressive than before. Weighting down on him as the silence suffocated him. Yuuri tries to take a deep breath, his shuddering exhale disturbing the stillness of the room only momentarily, before he was swallowed by the silence, stagnant air taking over once again. Uselessly, he kicks his heavy blanket off, hoping to disturb the quiet, create movement, anything. He only succeeds in losing warmth.
Yuuri curls upon his side, hugging his pillow close and shutting his eyes tight. There was nothing else he could do except lie down and wait for sleep to visit. Nights like this, when everything just felt like Too Much were the hardest. Doubts washed over him, no matter how often he pushed them away, no matter how frequently he proved those doubts wrong.
A gentle knock on the door shattered the oppressive night, a feat Yuuri had yet to manage, was unable to manage. The door slowly opened, letting in a small amount of light. “Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice was quiet, gentle. Yuuri sat up, not answering verbally but gesturing for Viktor to join him in his too-small bed. This has become a ritual of sorts. On bad nights, Viktor slips quietly into Yuuri’s room, always to be gone before the sun comes up. How Viktor knows when Yuuri is having a bad night, Yuuri is unsure. Viktor, too, has bad nights. These nighttime meetings a comfort to them both. Once the day comes, though, they never talk about these midnight conversations. They can enjoy the closeness these talks afford, but it’s as if by mentioning them outside these hours, the magic would be ruined.
I worry I’m not enough.
The words exchanged during this time were for this time only.
Honestly? I hate the taste of miso.
No matter how light—
I actually have so many posters of you…
Or heavy—
I am immensely lonely.
Memories of previous confesses float in and out of their consciousness.
I’ve told you about Vicchan—I named him after you.
Viktor crawls into Yuuri’s bed
I didn’t understand desire… until you.
Viktor sits against the wall, legs stretched out, feet barely hanging over the side of the bed.
I used to be afraid of the dark.
Wordlessly, Yuuri places his head in Viktor’s lap.
I love dancing, all kinds of dancing.
Viktor’s fingers curl into Yuuri’s hair, lightly pushing through the thick locks.
Truthfully, I hated my long hair.
Yuuri couldn’t recall a time he felt more safe than during the moments with Viktor.
You’re my inspiration.
Instead of silence, the room was filled with gentle breathing. The quiet wasn’t expectant, wasn’t a placeholder—it was comforting. Viktor could somehow take the worst moments and make them beautiful. Or, perhaps, bring out the beauty Yuuri was unable to see. Eventually, Yuuri spoke. The turn to disturb the silence was Yuuri’s. “Everything feels…” putting it into words was difficult, his tongue inadequate to the task. He settled on, “…too much.” Viktor’s hand stilled in Yuuri’s hair, but he remained silent. Yuuri reached his hand up towards the ceiling, squinting in the dark to watch the movement. “Too quiet, too loud, too hot, too cold, everything, all at once,” his hand clenched, nails digging into his palms—the slight pain grounding him, reminding him. “Yet nothing... I’m nothing.”
Viktor took Yuuri’s outstretched hand with his right hand, gently rubbing his fingers until the clenched fist relaxed. “You are everything.” Viktor didn’t stop his ministrations, rubbing circles on Yuuri’s palm, over the crescent moon idents. “You mean so much… to your family.” Viktor brought Yuuri’s palm to his lips, kissing gently. “To me."
Yuuri let his hand fall from Viktor’s grasp, only to wrap it around Viktor’s waist, turning his body with his face buried into Viktor’s stomach. “I love you,” he mumbled against Viktor’s skin, instantly regretting saying that now. This was not the time for such confessions. He grasped Viktor tighter. He wanted the first time he said that to be in the sun, on a bright day, light shining down on them. Love was something to talk about, to celebrate. Not something to be tucked away in the early hours of the morning.
Viktor remained quiet, left hand resuming its motion in Yuuri’s hair, comforting and gentle. Viktor kept this up until Yuuri’s breathing evened out and sleep claimed him. Viktor knew the gentle snores were his cue to leave. At one point, they always returned to their separate rooms, only to meet up first thing in the morning for breakfast. Yet, Viktor could not bring himself to extricate himself from Yuuri’s grasp, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He worried about crossing this unspoken line; but, at the same time, they had got to this point by crossing lines. Viktor allowed his eyes to fall shut. If Yuuri released him by his own accord, Viktor would leave. Yuuri’s warmth lulled him to sleep within seconds.
When they awoke, they were both lying down—Viktor having moved from against the wall at some point. Viktor’s hand rested gently at Yuuri’s hip. Yuuri could feel the heat through his clothes. He watched as Viktor’s eyes blinked open and he felt his heart catch in his throat. The sleepy, unguarded gaze made him wonder why they never slept together before. The way Viktor wrinkled his nose made him wonder why they would ever separate in the first place. Feeling bold as the soft light poured into the bedroom, Yuuri leaned forward. A hand resting against Viktor’s chest and lips pressing against the tip of Viktor’s nose. Yuuri felt Viktor’s heartbeat, thumping quickly beneath his hand. Yuuri’s own heart beat loudly against his ears. Viktor’s eyes widened, the sleep quickly leaving only to be replaced with adoration. “Good morning,” Yuuri whispered, afraid to disturb the moment.
Viktor’s hand tensed against Yuuri’s hip, pulling him closer. With determination, Viktor kissed Yuuri’s forehead, “I love you too.” Yuuri couldn’t hear anything but the roaring of blood in his ears and he couldn’t help the smile that dashed across his face. As if moving as one, the two pulled each other into an embrace, closing any space that had yet remained. Soon the soft morning light would brighten into the incandescent light of day, reminding them that they would have to awaken and face the morning. But until then, the two of them would breathe as one.