Terrarium
Disclaimer: NOPE.
Summary: Yuri likes his space, his bed, his freedom. He also really, really likes Estelle when she's involved in any of those.
AN: Again, you all can thank Mist for this.
Terrarium
*noun
An enclosed place for raising plants or other living things; an ecosystem on a smaller scale.
Yuri's under no illusions; he grew up poor as shit, and that now gives him the ability to appreciate the finer things in life, like having a decent bed and more than one blanket that isn't threadbare and itchy, and the ability to walk into the kitchen whenever he wants and eat whatever he wants however many times a day he wants, without judgement or retribution. In fact, more often than not, his kitchen excursions usually end in welcome company, and he remembers over and over again how intensely the words home and family resonate in him.
Yuri also very much likes having his own space.
It was a luxury growing up, those rare moments when he could find a quiet room void of people and now, while Yuri loves his guild and their company, he also loves having a door that he can close when he wants to, and it's an established rule that if you want a closed door to open, you knock. If it stays closed and it's not urgent, you go away.
That's the way Yuri likes it.
Mostly.
Estelle's an almost constant fixture around here and if he wasn't convinced she was still royal by the missives that arrive every so often for her to deal with, he'd mistake her for a normal guild member. He's pretty sure she wants to be a normal guild member.
Estelle is pretty good about respecting Yuri's space except when she isn't, and it's a revelation for Yuri to realize that, at least when it comes to her, he doesn't care. His space is still his space even when she's in it, and sometimes especially when she's in it.
This applies even when he's not around.
That's not something Yuri has the need to think about until he gets back from a job. It's a pretty rough one and takes about three days to complete- when he gets back to headquarters it's late at night and he's wiped and all he wants is bed. Bed is beautiful, bed is life, bed is calling Yuri's name and all he can do is follow that call.
He accepts the shoulder clap and welcome back from Cyrus the local night owl and drags himself up the stairs to his room, pushes open the door…
And stops.
Curled up on his bed on top of his blankets is Estelle in what she considers pajamas these days: a far cry from the silk sets and delicate nightgowns, Estelle's developed an appreciation of less is more, especially in the warmer months, which results in an accumulation of shorts in just about every color and tops that expose pale, unmarked shoulders.
Estelle's curled herself around his pillow and when Yuri leans forward, he can see the red rimming her eyes.
Everything he might have said dries up in his throat and dies.
Nightmares don't happen as often as they used to but Estelle does still get them upon occasion, and it's not unheard of for her to slip in with Rita or Judy and Yuri's been woken up more than once by quiet, tentative knocks on his door.
This is a new one.
He can't bring himself to move her or risk waking her up, especially when it's clear that he and his space and his things and his bed and pillow are what's bringing her enough safety and comfort to sleep, but Yuri's so tired. He's dead on his feet and bed is so necessary.
There's a barely a second of deliberation before Yuri's gingerly settling himself on his bed, careful not to jostle too much. Estelle's hijacked his pillow and Yuri can't find it in him to care. He barely moves at first until he realizes that Estelle is well and truly out for the count, and eventually he's close enough to her that warm skin presses against warm skin and Yuri slings his arm around her waist. Cuddly and tactile even in sleep, Estelle scoots towards him so that Yuri's big spoon proper.
He always likes Estelle but he really likes her like this, and approximately no part of Yuri can manage to be concerned with propriety when he's so warm and comfortable and content. It's easy to fall asleep with her there, easier than Yuri expects it to be. Despite the newness of it all, it feels right for her to be here and she fits in his arms better than anyone he's ever been close to.
That's the last thing Yuri thinks before he buries his nose in Estelle's hair and falling asleep like the exhausted and almost-too-blessed guildmaster he is.
It's a quiet, strangled squeak that Yuri wakes up to. He opens his eyes blearily and blinks, sleepy and still hazy.
At some point during the night Estelle rolled over to snuggle up like a limpet to a rock, tucked one of her legs between both of Yuri's, and wrapped her arms around his back to rub patterns into his skin. Yuri had shifted to accommodate her, and now both of his palms are making close acquaintance with the skin of her hips and lower back, his fingertips skirting underneath fabric to touch.
Shit.
Shit.
It's not the compromising position causing Estelle to panic, Yuri realizes in an instant.
"Oh my god, Yuri, I'm so sorry," the apology tumbles from her lips like stones along a riverbank, "I didn't mean to fall asleep in your bed!"
That's what she's worried about?!
Yuri makes the mistake of looking down and gets an eyeful of his healer's (thankfully clothed) breasts pressed up against his chest.
Oh, god.
Yuri thinks he might be dying.
He chokes a little and drags his eyes up to a more socially acceptable area. If Estelle notices his lapse, she doesn't show it.
Apparently bed-stealing is a more heinous crime than inappropriate princess-touching. Yuri is fairly certain that Estelle is the only person in the world who thinks that.
"Um, Estelle…"
"I didn't mean to stay that long, I just, you know, I had kind of a bad dream and I didn't even think-"
"Estelle!"
She looks up at him, green eyes so wide and imploring, and Yuri can't seem to move away from her. Every part of him that touches her burns and fizzes, sharp like soda pop, and the feeling creeps up to his cheeks until Yuri wants to rub them. He doesn't blush often but when he does...oh boy.
"I'm, uh," he manages to croak out, "Not mad about the bed thing. Like at all.' Oh, he's very, very not-mad about the bed thing. Maybe he should be. Yuri doesn't care.
"You're-you're not?" Estelle's confusion is genuine. Yuri stifles a slightly agonized groan and, far from pushing her away, pulls her nearer. Does she feel anything like what he is or is she so focused and anxious about not being a problem that she doesn't notice? Yuri's breath goes a little ragged in the need to not scare the daylights out of her with the thoughts running through his head.
"No," he says eventually, accentuating his words with pressure from his fingers on untouched places that makes Estelle go very still, "I'm not."
Anything Estelle was about to say flees her and Yuri watches (and nearly misses) the split second where her pupils blow bigger with...something he doesn't dare name. She doesn't dare either, apparently, because all that comes out of her mouth is an inarticulate, uncrafted,
"...oh," that comes out with the slightest hint of tremble.
Yuri doesn't think a bit of it is fear.
"Oh," she says more steadily, and the moment she takes notice of where her leg is is a visible one. Immediately, color begins to rise in her face and her expression of epiphany goes horrified. "Oh god, Yuri, sorry-"
Estelle could push herself out of his grip, but she doesn't.
Yuri could laugh it off and let the both of them forget that any of this ever happened, but he doesn't. There's something more important to address than apologies right now.
"Did being here," his voice creaks unexpectedly and Yuri clears his throat, "Did being here make you feel better? Did it help?" Estelle doesn't quite look at him when she nods and lets a curtain of pink hair fall over her eyes. "And this…" No, Yuri hasn't taken his hands away from her but Estelle hasn't moved away from him either, despite her clear embarrassment, "Is this something that you're okay with? If it's not, you should tell me. In the name of honesty," Estelle stiffens in his arms, "I'm perfectly okay if you stay where you are. I don't mind."
Oh, Yuri doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all.
"I…" Estelle says quietly after some thought, "I like being here with you. Even when you're not here, it makes me feel safe, because this is where you come home to."
"And this?" Yuri asks, bends his head down to nose gently at the hair around her ear, "This?"
Estelle's pupils go huge and maybe Yuri imagines it, but he thinks he hears her swallow hard.
"I like that too," she admits eventually, "It feels good when you touch me a-and I...well, I guess I like to touch you too."
Understatement of the century? Something that Yuri hadn't noticed had been jumpy and nervous settles back down in his stomach and the edge of his lips tilts up.
"No surprise, then, I like it too." She smiles back, tentative at first and then bolder and steadier like she finally believes him. "And in that case, I think we can grab a few more hours before anyone needs anything from us."
The sun is just now coming up over the horizon and with a muffle, Estelle burrows her nose into his chest. Her worries soothed, she's perfectly happy to get comfy again and Yuri laughs into her hair, perfectly happy to let her, and reaches over to grab the edge of the blanket and pull it up over them until it's just them, Yuri and Estelle, in a warm cocoon of soft fabric and softer skin.
"And for the record," he mumbles as he lets his hands go back to work mapping out the curves and edges of her back as they will, "You don't really have to knock, or worry about whether I'm here or whether I want your company. Just coming in is fine."
And that's not something Yuri ever thought he'd be saying, regardless of how much he cares for someone. He means it, though, and perhaps it means something that Estelle doesn't ask him if he's sure.
AN2: Thank you for reading! If you have any comments, questions, concerns, criticisms, I'd love to hear them in the form of a review or a PM, in case you'd rather not make your feedback public.