I wrote a fix-it to my own fic
If you're a first time reader, I suggest reading Sludge, just so you can get some background. But if you don't want to read something that heavy, this should be fine as a stand alone I think?
Warning: Referenced Eating Disorders, Referenced/Implied Bulimia, Referenced/Implied Anorexia
It's midnight, the sky dark with the absence of the moon. The only light filling the room comes from one of the desk lamps, lightly tinted blue. Yuuri had picked it out on a whim, Victor hadn't seen the appeal of tinted light but it was fine because Yuuri liked it.
The apartment had been quiet, its occupants up and about, one leaving and returning and leaving again before the other.
They're both home now.
Victor holds Yuuri close to him as they sway. They stand in the middle of the room, Yuuri's head resting on Victor's shoulder, eyes half lidded. His breathing is deep but unsteady, he gives short, sharp breaths intermittently because his mind will drift so far that he forgets to inhale.
It had been a long day.
"Tired?" Victor asks, soft voice shattering the still.
Yuuri just nods, body pliant as Victor guides him to bed. Once Yuuri is settled beneath the comforter, Victor goes to turn out the lamp, but Yuuri grabs hold of his shirt.
"Just a moment," Victor says, "the light."
Yuuri nods, slow and drowsy, and lets go.
Victor turns off the lamp and makes his way back to the bed, used to navigating their room in the dark by now. He lays down, tucking Yuuri to his chest.
He knows that this is something that will likely stay with his Yuuri for years to come. He'd spoken with Phichit following the first time, listened while trying not to cry. Yuuri hadn't wanted to tell him but he gave Victor Phichit's number. Victor got the rundown from an equally shaky Phichit. Once the call ended, he'd spent the night simply holding Yuuri, assuring the younger man that he wasn't going to leave.
It's been some time, a couple years Victor supposes, and his thoughts haven't changed. He loves Yuuri, it's as simple as that. And Yuuri is doing better, he has a support net now and he lets Victor know when he's starting to drop again. They're both getting better at communicating, both doing their best to be open with one another.
Occasionally though, there are exceptions.
Victor's been busy for the past week, too busy to notice that Yuuri wasn't eating as much as he was supposed to. Yuuri had been shaky on the ice the day prior, brushing it off as a slight cold or the lack of sleep. Victor had been helping Yuri with his program and then he had to work on his own. He was working on media relations as well, among other things, and his mind had been functioning at a hundred miles a minute just trying to keep track of everything. So he hadn't noticed. Yuuri assured him he ate.
And Victor can't chastise him, not when he himself forgets to eat half the time.
But this? This he can't excuse.
Yuuri's body is warm with fever, his skin bruised from too many falls on the ice, his feet bandaged and taped together. Victor had cleaned the blood from his skates before, and he hates doing so more than he hates cleaning his own.
Overwork, Phichit had mentioned, Yuuri overworks himself to burn off more calories than he takes in. Excessive, Phichit had said, if he tries to stay on the ice too long, if he practices excessively, drag him off. Obsessive, Phichit had warned, don't let him get lost in his head, he obsesses over every little thing that goes into his body.
Victor tries his best, but it's not always enough.
There are days when Yuuri wants absolutely no comfort at all, entrenched in thoughts of worthlessness and delusion. Victor's tried to forcibly remove those thoughts, he knows not to anymore. That doesn't mean he lets them run their course though, he's found new ways. Words don't get through to Yuuri nearly as well as actions do.
It's a learning process, Victor's never had to do anything like this before. Cohabitation is new, comfort is new, hell, even love is new. Yuuri gave him that love, and now Victor does his best to pay it back.
So he holds Yuuri until he's sure the other man has fallen asleep.
Their rest day is tomorrow, so hopefully, they can do some emotional reconstruction, dig Yuuri out of the ditch he's put himself into.
Victor wakes when he realizes that Yuuri isn't at his side. Instead, Makkachin's taken his place. The poodle is awake, but his attention is elsewhere. Victor follows his line of sight to find Yuuri sitting against the wall.
Yuuri's legs are tucked to his chest, his arms laying over his knees while his head is half bowed. Victor can't tell if he's awake but he's definitely breathing. His hair is damp, and the bandages on his feet are fresh. The pajamas he'd been wearing the night before sit in a pile a short ways away, and Yuuri now wears a loose pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. His glasses are on the bedside table.
Slowly, Victor slips out of bed, padding quietly over to Yuuri and sitting next to him. Without a word, he pulls Yuuri close. He shifts until they're both comfortable and he runs his fingers through Yuuri's damp hair once they settle.
Yuuri is most definitely awake, but he stays quiet, so Victor does too.
Yuuri is still curled up, but he's moved his arms, wedges them between his chest and thighs. His elbows are tucked in as well, hands resting over his knees. There's no way it's comfortable, but Yuuri's not moving.
There's something Victor's noticed since that first time he found Yuuri...in a compromising position. Yuuri always kept the nails on his right hand shorter than the ones on his left, Victor attributed it to the fact that Yuuri used his right hand when he made himself vomit. Since their engagement however, it's switched.
Now, it's the left nails that Yuuri keeps drastically short.
After about ten minutes, Yuuri shifts, his joints creaking and popping as he unfolds himself. He slumps against Victor, one arm moving to wrap around his waist.
"Sorry," he says softly, hiding his face in Victor's chest.
Victor doesn't say that it's okay, because it's not. Instead, he moves Yuuri into his lap and brings his hands to Yuuri's cheeks. There are no tears, but Yuuri's eyes are red.
"Love, look at me?"
Surprisingly, Yuuri does so without hesitation, big brown eyes wide and strangely focused. Yuuri brings his hands up to Victor's wrists, holding them loosely.
Yuuri doesn't look hazy at all, not like he usually does. He's definitely present.
Victor takes a moment to stroke his thumbs across Yuuri's cheeks before he pulls him closer, gently tilting his head so their foreheads meet. Yuuri doesn't feel as warm as he did the night previous.
Victor can't smell any toothpaste, no overwhelming scent of mint.
That's good.
"I love you, you know that, don't you?" he asks, voice quiet. A still has settled over the room and Victor doesn't want to break it just yet.
"I know. I love you too."
Victor smiles, closing his eyes a moment.
"You worry me, love," he says. "This scares me, I'll admit that. I just want what's best for you."
Yuuri doesn't stiffen as much as Victor expects him to. Instead, he sighs, moving back and pulling Victor's hands off his face. He presses a kiss to each wrist then simply holds Victor's hands in his lap, eyes fixed on their entwined fingers.
"I- I know I worry you, and I'm sorry, I don't know why you b- Thank you."
Victor lets Yuuri hide in his chest, pretends not to notice that Yuuri is crying.
They stay like that for a little while longer, Victor has taken to dancing his fingers up and down Yuuri's back, the latter having finally let go of his hands.
"Are you up for breakfast?" Victor asks.
Yuuri nods after a moment or two. Before he can slip out of Victor's lap, Victor loops his arms around Yuuri's waist and stands up. His knee pops as he does so, but the sound is drowned as Yuuri lets out a short shriek, his arms shooting out to lock around Victor's neck.
Then they're both laughing.
Victor commits the sound to memory, well, he does so every time Yuuri laughs, but he especially likes this kind.
Yuuri lets himself be carried into the kitchen, where Victor sets him on the counter.
They don't try to make conversation, but Victor starts humming, and Yuuri joins him after a few bars. For the life of him, Victor can't place the song, but the melody comes easy, so he doesn't spend too much time thinking about it.
He has his back turned to Yuuri as he reaches for something in the cupboard.
Somewhat shaky arms wrap around his waist and he turns, a smile already on his face. He laces his fingers behind Yuuri's neck and bows to press their foreheads together.
Like the night before, they sway slowly, an almost dance without any steps. Victor lets his gaze drop down to Yuuri's feet, then up to Yuuri's face, looking for any signs of discomfort. He'd really rather have Yuuri stay off his feet for a while longer, just in case.
But if Yuuri is okay, Victor won't let him go.
Yuuri's eyes close but Victor's stay open. He catalogues Yuuri's features, taking in his chapped lips and the dark shadows beneath his eyes. There's a scratch, faint, just under the left side of Yuuri's jaw and Victor remembers seeing him land badly at practice one afternoon. After a few moments, Victor lets his eyes close and he simply drinks in Yuuri's presence.
They're still humming, and they continue to do so until Makkachin decides to make his presence known, worming his way between the two and making them stumble apart.
I'm gonna be super honest here, I was very much ready to make this angst-hell central but I didn't. Also, I started writing it and it turned into Victor's PoV, so there's that as well. Pretty sure this is like my fourth story with the subject of eating disorders? Why do I do this to myself?
Anyway, a happy ending because the poor kid deserves it.
Let me know what you think?