AN:

Some of you have asked for the Vikturi

So…. YOU'RE GONNA GET THE VICTURI! Get them tissues ready and be prepared to either squeal or bawl or both. Because, as per usual, this can't end happily, now can it? This is me we're talking about, people.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yuri! On Ice

I don't know about the rest of you, but I've got exams this upcoming week, so send me all the good mojo or luck or prayers or whatever magic voodoo you believe in, and I'll send some back, capiche?

Lessons With Eb: Capiche is Italian slang from the 40s after the word "Capisci" which is "do you understand." I bet you knew the word but couldn't spell it, or give its history lesson— now you can! Congrats, you know useless information. Welcome to my life.

On with the sobfest!

Ch 13— Second Time, Shame On Me

It was almost one in the morning. One. In the freaking. Morning. Real friendship is when you hunt down your best friend in the dead of night (morning?). Victor was really cold. And tired. And freaked out.

He had sent Yurio home hours ago, not trusting his young friend's safety on the streets at night. Yurio, as expected, threw a fit. He complained that Victor was treating him like a child. He complained that, while upsetting Yuri was Victor's mistake, Yuri was still Yurio's "responsibility."

Yeah.

He said "responsibility." As if Yuri was his child or lost pet.

"I want to help!" Yurio said angrily. "You can't just send me away like I'm a princess that needs to be locked in a tower!" Victor pinched the bridge of his nose. God, why did he hang out with this kid again?

Господи, помилуй.

"Yurio, I do not have time for your "poor little misunderstood teenager" crap right now. And besides, it's not safe out here and I don't want to have to worry about you—"

"You think I can't handle myself, is that it? You think "poor little Yurio, he's just a kid. He needs someone to protect him" That's stupid!" Yurio shouted, an angry snarl across his face. "The person you're supposed to protect is out there kidnapped or attacked or something because you're an idiot! So, thank God I don't actually need your protection!"

Иисус ебаный Христос

"Yurio— look, this is ridiculous. Just go home, okay? It's pointless for two people to be looking in the same places for one person— and I can't exactly split up with you, now can I?" Yurio countered and the two argued back and forth for a while, but Yurio eventually caved and stormed away. With Yurio at home and hopefully sleeping, Victor continued to roam the virtually empty streets, still searching for Yuri.

He had tried calling Yuri, but found that his calls were going to voicemail. Knowing Yuri, his phone was probably lost or still at the apartment. And while Victor tried to comfort himself with the fact that Yuri almost never had his phone with him, and probably was safe and just lost his phone…

Victor was still panicking. His face felt flushed and really warm, like he had a fever. His head hurt— his brain hurt as he wracked it for all the possible places that Yuri could be. His body was aching and sore, tense with stress and exhausted from hours of search. Who knew their little town could be so big?

But anywhere is big with it's cold, dark and you're looking for someone you care about.

The situation was painfully similar to the cliff incident. Victor had been frantically searching for Yuri with no way to contact him. It had been cold and dark, Victor had been exhausted and stressed. And when he finally found Yuri… when he finally found him, the kid was close to dead.

An icy fear gripped Victor's heart. He felt the irrational desire to sob beginning to well up painfully in his chest.

What if that happened again? What if it was happening all over again? What if Yuri was in danger, what if he was hurt? Maybe he was near dead now, having been run over or kidnapped or assaulted—

Oh, God.

"Breath, stupid, breath." Victor muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fists. His lungs burned as he took in gasp of frigid air. It was as if he had been holding his breath for years. Now he felt even worse.

His head ached like it was beaten with a hammer. His body was weary like he had run a million miles, and he felt such a painful, startling feeling of loss that he didn't even know what to do with himself. It was like something was missing. Like something that was a part of him, something that had never been missing before was suddenly taken. And he had no idea what to do about it.

He tried to shake it off, blame it on nerves, claim that his imagination was just spinning out of control, that he was overreacting. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, that he was just a little overstressed, that something he ate was causing indigestion— anything other than what he knew it was.

Victor practically skidded to a halt. His light jog had progressed into a sprint as quicksilver thoughts whizzed through his mind like fruit flies at a farmer's market, but for some reason he seemed to have lost all energy in one moment. He felt like he ran into a wall. That was the moment he realized what he was feeling. And why he was feeling it. And how there was no way to get rid of it now that he was feeling it.

God, he hated feelings. They were so complicated and confusing. They weren't necessarily unwanted, but they were certainly inconvenient. And annoying. And distracting. And impeding Victor's ability to run— what kind of feeling has that power? That it stops you and sucks all the energy and will from your body?

Victor knew what it was.

It was that dreaded "L" word, and all the emotions that come with it, and all the emotions that come with the idea of losing that "L" word.

Despair and acute hopelessness. Forlornness and sadness. Depression and hurt. Misery and loss. Pain and dejection. Heavy hearted downcast and dispirited lowness.

All because of the warm fondness and passionate tenderness. The intimate affection felt towards the dearly delightful. The adoring, yearning, worshiping, craving—

Victor wanted to slap himself.

"Get it together, Vitya." He muttered to himself, dragging cold hands down his weary face. What was he going to do?

Not about the feelings. About the Yuri-is-missing thing. Feelings can come later. there's no time for feelings right now.

The problem was that he'd looked everywhere. He looked at the hot springs, and the rink, and Yuri's favourite restaurant. He even did a quick scope through the woods where Yuri's accident happened. He checked the park, and the sports store where they both got their skates and other sports equipment like jogging pants and sweatshirts. He checked in with their friends, and he checked the library and the strip malls, on the off chance that Yuri tried to go somewhere that Victor would never to think to look.

That was the biggest problem. Yuri knew Victor so well, that he knew exactly where to hide that Victor wouldn't find him. That was the funny thing about Yuri. He was much more observant and intelligent than most people thought he was. Just looking at him, he seemed kind of ditzy and a little naïve. It was one of the reason that Victor lov— liked Yuri so much. He was a mystery, there was always something new to learn about him. Though, he was still a little ditzy and oblivious on occasion.

Victor sighed. This was useless. This running around in circles, checking the same places over and over again. He had to think. Where had he not checked? Where would Yuri not think he'd ever go?

The graveyard, for one. But why would Yuri go there? He didn't check the local schools, but it didn't make sense for Yuri to go there, either. The schools were definitely closed, and Yuri wouldn't risk getting arrested for trespassing just to get away from Victor…

Right?

Not the time for Feelings! No, Feelings! Bad, Feelings! Think, think, think… he hadn't checked every block of the town, maybe he should do that?

But that would take at least three more hours on foot.

How much did he want to find Yuri?

A lot, but going on foot for even more hours wasn't going to be productive.

It was exhausting. He was sore and tired and just wanted to bring Yuri home, so they could both go to sleep.

Not together of course! Like, separately go to bed in separate beds, in separate rooms! Separately!

Why was he blushing? Victor was freaking blushing, why in the world was he blushing?

"I'm going crazy. Yep, that's what it is. I'm insane." Victor muttered to himself, vaguely recalling the phrase "talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity." Though he remembered hearing somewhere else that talking to yourself was the "sign of greater intelligence."

"Focus, Victor, focus!" he commanded of himself. He shook his head, silvery hair glinting in the pale moonlight. His breath crystalized in the air like steam.

It was really cold. Victor was really cold. Yuri always got colder quicker than Victor, he was probably freezing by now.

О, Боже.

Yuri didn't bring a coat. He must be literally freezing by now. Victor started running.

Yuri was freaking cold.

Like…. really freaking cold.

He had a sweatshirt, which was great, but it was thin. It was one of those "fashion before function" sweatshirts. Also, his jeans had more holes in them than actual pieces of fabric and he was carrying wet clothing. His teeth chattered, and his bones rattled with chill. What he wouldn't give for a heated blanket or a thick, fluffy jacket.

"God, I picked the best night to do this, didn't I?" Yuri grumbled to himself, ashamed and embarrassed of his childish escape earlier. What kind of grown adult runs away when someone hurts his feelings? Real mature, Yuri. Real mature.

Yuri shook his head at his self-deprecating, sarcastic chastising. Complaining and whining and regretting would get him nowhere. What he needed to do was keep every part of him moving as much as possible and in the direction of Victor's apartment. Also, he should really call his parents.

They were probably too busy yelling at each other to notice if he called or not anyways. Yuri glanced at his watch, curious as to how long he had been out. Well. Maybe they'd be too busy sleeping because it was just past one in the morning, after all.

Yuri felt his heart drop into his stomach and his skin heat up as anxiety wacked him with a two-by-four. Dear God, he had run off for hours.

Hours.

"Victor must be throwing a fit!" Yuri exclaimed. "God, I'm so stupid!" Yuri broke into a sprint, cold air biting his face and rushing against his exposed skin through the holy jeans— he was never letting that go. He didn't understand why jeans with more holes than a sponge was so attractive— no, he understood why they were attractive.

Victor wore holy jeans a lot.

Focus, focus, focus, Yuri chanted as his mind railed off track.

Yuri swiveled his head around dangerously fast, trying to take in everything he saw. He had to find Victor. The farther he got from the block where Kusu lived, the less people were out and about, the less cars were driving around, the less barking dogs and sirens there were. But the more lit streetlamps there were, and the more benches and parks there were.

Yuri raced down the empty sidewalks, willing his legs to go faster. Ever since he started physical therapy, running felt like an instinct. It was like there was something in him that nagged him to run all the time. It was like he just couldn't go fast enough. The wind in his hair, his body speeding like a rocket, adrenaline like liquid fire in his veins. It was addicting.

"Come on, idiot, focus!" Yuri scolded himself, returning his full attention into searching for his coach. Geez, he had to be around here somewhere. Yuri wondered if Victor was hiding from him. Victor, despite how he acted, hated confrontation. He addressed things when needed but, if it were up to him, he'd rather leave it behind and move on. This made Yuri's flying sprint slow to a stop. His arms, which had been pumping at his sides like they might propel him faster, had dropped down to his sides limply.

What if Victor wasn't even looking for him? What if he had put everything behind him? It would make sense. After all, Yuri up and left, making it clear he didn't want to be followed. But Victor, if nothing else, was his coach. Victor needed his student in order to be a coach. Then again, he could have any student in the world. Who wouldn't want Victor as a coach? Victor was elite. He was magic. He was a god on skates. A god of the skating world. Everyone looked up to him, everyone wanted to be him.

Yuri was lucky that Victor even glanced his way, let alone agreed to coach him or even speak to him. Yuri brought his gaze up from where it had glued itself to the floor and caught something moving in the corner of his eye.

"Is that…?" Yuri whispered to himself. He saw a tall figure in a long dark coat running down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. The figure was making quite the distance and there's was something glistening on his head….

Holy crap that's silver hair.

Holly crap that's Victor.

Holy crap.

Crap.

Yuri's brain short circuited, over-heated, malfunctioned— whatever the word was, Yuri's stupid brain did that. And with that meltdown whatever-it-was, an image popped into his mind. It was like an old movie, faded on the edges and glimmering. Close, but too far away at the same time.

It was Victor. A memory of Victor running. And of Yuri running. They were running to each other, but they were running side by side. No wait, there was a glass wall between them. Why was there glass between them? The glass disappeared, sliding to the side— wait, it was a sliding door. They were in a building now and—

Wow, dramatic embrace. Memory Yuri had practically jumped on Memory Victor.

"I was thinking about what I could do as your coach from now on."

"Me too. Please be my coach until I retire."

"It's almost like a marriage proposal."

A ring. Yuri glanced down at his hand. He was supposed to have a ring. What? A ring? Where the heck would he get a ring— why would he wear a ring?

A gold ring. Yuri nodded to himself confidently. Yes, he was definitely supposed to have a gold ring. A thin, gold band. Like a wedding ring. The words "marriage proposal" swum in Yuri's mind.

"Let's win gold…."

"We need rings….

"For luck…."

"Oh, my God." Yuri gasped, memories flooded his mind. Images and moments and objects of importance.

A suggestive song, a black and silver outfit, the scraping of skates.

A silver medal, his hand being kissed, a promise for better in the future.

Victor waving and grinning, standing next to a remarkably less grumpy Yurio.

Yuri watched tear drops that weren't his own fall onto the carpet of the hotel room.

"Oh, my God."

Rings glinting in the bright light of a store window.

Twin rings glinting on the joined hands.

"Oh, my God." Yuri breathed again, momentarily wondering if he was married. "Ah, right. It was a good luck thing." Heart attack paused, thank God. His brain freaking hurt. With all the memories pounding into his skull, being pinched from random dusty corners of his mind— it was unlike any other pain he had felt before. Yuri let out a sharp cry as the pain deep in his cranium. He felt his knees give way, but his body never hit the floor before being caught by something warm and solid.

Yuri glanced up to see sharp blue eyes staring into his own.

Victor was about to give up hope. He felt dead. Like a walking corpse. Rid of all feeling and emotion. He was still running, but he couldn't feel his legs anymore. He didn't think he could do this much longer, running for hours straight at night in the freezing cold was not exactly healthy. Just as Victor's previous surge in hope was beginning to fail, Victor heard a yelp.

Thinking it was a stray dog, Victor didn't pay much attention to the sound, other than glancing apathetically in the direction of the pitiful sound. What he saw made him choke. His chest tightened and burned with relief and joy, which made his eyes sting. Then he dashed across the street without looking for oncoming traffic.

He saw Yuri staggering and clutching his head. Being as far away as he was, Victor couldn't tell much else, except for the fact that, even with the distance between them, he could tell that Yuri was shivering. Feeling the effects of the cold himself, Victor could only imagine how frigid the low temperature was to Yuri. Victor ran faster at this thought.

He made it to Yuri's side just as the boy collapsed. Victor's arms went out on instinct and wrapped about his student like a vise. He reveled in the warmth and solidness of his dearest friend's body, letting it soothe away the panic that told him he'd never find Yuri again.

"Vic…. Vic…." Yuri struggled.

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm sorry— so, so sorry…." Victor whispered, hugging Yuri tightly. He felt the trembling and the cold skin through Yuri's clothing. He quickly let go and shed his coat, wrapping Yuri in it before pulling him close again.

"You came…" Yuri sounded incredulous, eyes open wide with wonder as they captivated Victor's own eyes. Those two little words made Victor's heart plummet.

"God, of course I came!" he said softly, with an air of irritation. "What made you think that I wouldn't—" Victor stopped and lowered his head, his own words from that dreaded conversation popping back into his head.

"Why would I want someone like you?"

"Someone who needs attention…. Falling off a cliff. Really?"

The words didn't even sound that harsh. Separated from the situation and from Yuri's slightly off-kilter emotional stability, they were just mean words. Hurtful, sure. But they weren't destructive. It made Victor feel even worse because of just how insecure Yuri must be in order to take Victor's words so poorly as to run away and not expect to be searched for.

"I'll always come for you. Always. Always." Twin lines of warmth ran down Victor's face. Yuri reached up a trembling hand in awe. Christ. Victor was crying.

Yuri moved to brush away the sudden tears, but stopped mere inches from his coach's face, unsure of whether his touch would be accepted or not. Victor grabbed the chilled hand and rested his cheek against its palm, eyes closed in order to revel at the closeness shared with someone he thought he may have lost (for the second time. Third?).

"God, you're shaking!" Victor stopped his warm, fuzzy feelings long enough to realize just what an earthquake Yuri was becoming. "Come on, we need to get you home." Yuri grinned with relief and leaned heavily against his coach's strong shoulder.

"Are you okay, other than being half frozen to death?"

"I remembered a lot of stuff again." Yuri whispered, almost giddily.

"What?" Victor was unsure of whether this was a good or a bad thing.

"It keeps happening at the weirdest moments. Like when I'm really happy, or really…." Yuri trailed off. "Not happy." He finished awkwardly, wincing at his own word choice. "They were good memories. We were running after each other. I think we were in an airport or something like that. And I remember we had rings… I don't know where mine…" Yuri trailed off as he noticed something he had never noticed before. There was a gold band on Victor's finger. Yuri reached out hesitantly and touched the ring lightly.

"You never took yours off." Yuri realized. Victor's cheeks flushed as he shook his head tightly. "Ow! Oh, God—" Yuri suddenly clutched at his head, knees buckling again. Victor started to panic.

"Holy— what— what's going on? Are you okay, what's wrong?"

"My… my head is… exploding." Yuri muttered, eyes pinched tightly. Victor stood helplessly holding up his friend, waiting out the headache.

"What can I… should I do anything? I don't know what to do." Victor admitted hurriedly, heart slamming in his rib cage.

"I don't— I can't— huuuuurts…." Yuri whined pitifully, like a child with a stomach ache. Victor needed a stronger word than panic to describe the sheer terror he was experiencing.

"Okay, uuuhhh…. okay. Let's just… let's just get you home, okay? I have pills for headaches there, and I bet getting some sleep will help. Also, you might be dehydrated. Hey, tour mom told me about a story where a girl with chronic headaches kept going to the hospital in tears because of migraines. Doctors checked everything and couldn't figure out what was going on. Turns out she has a disease where her body can't retain water. Here let, me tell you all about it…." Victor droned on. He hoped it was helping Yuri distract himself from the pain. It was one of the methods that the friendly neighborhood doctors taught him about helping Yuri through his pain. They said to get him distracted: engage in a conversation, tell a story, tell a joke, start singing— anything as long as it got his mind off the pain.

Victor thought it was working. They had sluggishly staggered to the Victor's front door before Yuri started complaining of the pain again.

"I know, I know, just a second. Hold on, Yuri, you're doing great." Victor muttered softly into his student's ear as he fished his key out of his pocket. Unlocking the door and swinging it open, the pair were met with a blast of warm air.

"God bless you, Yurio." Victor whispered in relief, glad that his new roommate thought to crank the heat up when Victor had demanded that he return to the apartment. Victor resolved to apologize for that. In the morning. Right now, everything either hurt or felt too frozen to hurt. He could only imagine how Yuri was feeling.

Victor scooped Yuri up like a groom would to his bride. He figured it would be easier to navigate around furniture while carrying Yuri, than it would be while trying to guide him. Yuri curled up tighter in Victor's arms, clutching the fabric of his friend's shirt and nuzzling into it. Victor clenched his jaw in order to not grin like a fool, and rushed to his bedroom with Yuri. His private bathroom, unlike the guest bedroom bathrooms, had the medication that might ease Yuri's headache. He hoped to God he hadn't run out of said medication.

Once deposited on the bed, Yuri curled into a ball, arms wrapping around his head like a self-made helmet. Victor pulled the blankets over Yuri and dashed into the bathroom. He swung the vanity open and snagged the correct bottle of pills, almost laughing with relief that he had it. He filled a cup with water on his way back into his bedroom, tip-toeing so as to make the least amount of noise possible.

"Yuri, I need you to take these." He whispered as softly as he could, trying not to further aggravate Yuri's headache. "Come on, sit up. Can you do that for me?" Yuri blinked lethargically at the sound of Victor's gently goading voice, and sat up with the other's help. After popping his pills in, Yuri accepted the water that Victor held for him and helped him drink. A small stream of liquid dribbled down his chin, but it was lovingly patted dry by Victor, who grinned at Yuri's clumsiness.

"Here, let's get you into something more comfortable." Victor said. He snickered in spite of himself when he saw the sweatshirt Yuri was wearing. For some reason the shirt suited his student. Victor reached into his wardrobe and pulled out a thick sky-blue sweater and a pair of fleecy grey sweatpants, which he handed to Yuri. Victor turned around, offering Yuri some privacy while he changed. Yuri managed to get out of his cold clothes and into the new set with minimal difficulty, but collapsed on the bed when he was finished, as if the act of changing clothes had taken a lot of energy out of him.

"Just lay down and go to sleep, I'll be on the couch if you need me." Victor whispered, heading towards the door after tucking the blankets around Yuri a bit more snuggly. Yuri curled back under the covers, body still shivering. The poor boy made a delicate whimpering sound that shattered Victor's heart.

"Yuri? What's wrong, do you need something?" Victor asked. Something in his chest felt oddly heavy. Yuri nodded and made a similar sound. He reached a slightly trembling hand out to Victor, who caught it between his bigger, warmer ones. Yuri squeezed Victor's hands weakly and tugged limply at them.

"Do you want me to sleep wi— ah… that is… to stay next to you?" Victor asked, struggling to word the question in a non-perverted way. Seeing how both of them knew how Victor felt about Yuri, Victor couldn't help but feel extremely awkward and out of place. His face heated up at the implication of it all. Yuri, not noticing Victor's dilemma, responded with a vigorous nod that had him scrunching his eyes closed and squinting in pain immediately after.

Victor blinked. This was the most awkward thing…. God, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't say no, that would upset Yuri. But saying yes would make a ridiculously awkward situation. Not that Yuri would see it as awkward because the kid was doped on pain killers and exhaustion. So… maybe it would be okay? Okay, yeah. It'll be okay. It'll be fine.

Victor nodded reluctantly and slid tensely into bed beside his student. Yuri reacted immediately. The freezing boy rolled over to lie directly next to his coach, head resting on Victor's shoulder. Victor's arm wrapped around Yuri on instinct, but he felt a heat flush across his face for the second time at the intimacy of it all. Yuri threw an arm across Victor, which landed on his chest, and he nuzzled his cold nose into Victor's neck. The sweet, relaxed sigh that left Yuri's lips made it all worth it. The awkwardness, the freezing cold body against his warm skin, all of it. Victor pulled the blankets tightly around the both and hugged Yuri tightly, the bone-deep aching weariness melting off.

When Yuri woke up, the first thing he felt was utter warmth and contentment. He was resting on something that was soft and solid at the same time, and was sandwiched and swathed between layers of warmth and protection, making him feel more secure and safe than he ever remembered being. He sighed softly, humming lightly when he felt something stroking his hair. At the sound of his hum, a breathy chuckle arose.

"He's like a cat." Yuri heard a voice whisper. This voice wasn't the one that had chuckled. Yuri didn't think that voice was the one who was practically petting him, either. Yuri scrunched his eyebrows, trying to decipher who was near him.

"Shut up, you'll wake him up." That was the voice that had chuckled, the one who was petting Yuri. Yuri cocked his head in the direction of this voice, willing his eyes to open. They felt so heavy— like weights were holding them down.

"Well he's waking up, anyways. Might as well speed up the process." At the end of this statement, to which Yuri wholly disagreed, there was a sharp poke in Yuri's spine. He cringed away from the poke and burrowed deeper into the warm, solid softness that was wrapped around him.

"Hey! Stop it!" the voice holding Yuri hissed. At the harsh sound, Yuri's eyes managed to lift their weights and pop open. Yuri jolted into an upright position, realized it was a mistake and doubled over with painful, raspy coughs that rattled his frame. Frantic voices shouted with alarm and hands reached out, grabbing whatever they could of Yuri to hold him up. He felt someone slip behind him, something wrapped around his ribcage and held him like a vise, and hands were on his faces, voices begging in his ears.

"Just breath, please, Yuri! Breathe!"

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…."

"What do you mean "it's okay," Victor? He's not bloody breathing!"

"Shut it, Yurio, you'll make it worse! Yuri, ignore him, everything's fine. Just focus on my voice…" Yuri did as the voice— Victor, he realized belatedly— said and tried to hold his coughs in. Eventually rasps subsided to wheezes, which became gasps, which became regular breathing eventually.

"I'm—"

"I swear to God, if you say okay, I'm gonna—" Yurio never got to finish his threat because Victor released his grip around Yuri to smack him on the shoulder.

Yuri blinked. He was sitting in bed with his back against Victor's chest, and Yurio at his side. When had that happened? Wait, when did he get home?

"Yuri, are you okay?" Victor asked, pulling Yuri flush against his chest again. Yuri hunched his back and tensed at the sudden close contact. He released a held breath and relaxed slowly back into his coach's embrace.

"I don't… I don't remember…. When did I get home?" Yuri asked.

"I found you walking outside at night, remember? You were having headaches, we got home, got you changed and then… we fell asleep."

"Oh, right. Headache." Yuri touched his head lightly, a tiny pang reminding him of the explosion in his brain the nights before. Victor's reaction was immediate.

"Is it still hurting? Do you still have a headache? Why didn't you say anything?"

"No, I jus—" Yuri's soft voice went unheard.

"Yurio! Go fill this glass of water and get the bottle of pills on the sink."

"Victor, I—" Yuri raised his voice, wincing at its raspy tone.

"Yuri listen to me, I need you to breathe through it okay? Just breath."

"Victor." Yuri said in barely a whisper. For some reason this got Victor's attention more than when he raised his voice as loud as his tortured throat allowed him to go.

"What, what do you need?" Victor asked, almost frantic.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Just a sore throat, that's all." Victor eyed Yuri closely as if testing him to see if he was lying.

"Honest? Really tell me, even if you think you'll just be trouble. You aren't. Trouble, I mean. You aren't trouble." Victor stumbling over his words was rather endearing to Yuri.

"Okay, okay. I hear you." Yuri grinned. Victor nodded stiffly and fiddled with the end of his sleeve for a second.

"So… I should probably get you home…I guess…" he spoke up, his voice soft, slipping out from behind Yuri. Yuri felt confused.

"I am… home?" he said uncertainly. He glanced around. Yep, he was definitely in Victor's apartment. Victor's head whipped up and he stared deep into Yuri's eyes with an expression that so strongly emitted hope that it almost hurt.

"Why, what did you mea— o-oh. Home. Right. That." Realization hit him like a freaking truck. Victor meant "home" as in where he lived day to day. Victor's apartment wasn't home. Victor's apartment was a glorified sleepover. Victor's hopeful expression dimmed and melted into blankness with a tinge of loss. Eesh. Yuri felt really guilty.

And that's how Yurio found them. Staring at each other regretfully and looking like lost puppies.

"Is… everything okay?" Yurio asked tentatively. Neither Victor nor Yuri answered. Victor suddenly stood up quickly.

"Yes. Yuri was just leaving." Victor said stiffly. Yuri blinked. Apparently, Yuri was leaving. Okay then. Yurio looked back and forth between Yuri and Victor.

"Are you sure…"

"His parents are probably worried. I don't think he called them last night." Victor said almost formally without even glancing at Yuri, let alone asking him if he had called. Rude. Maybe he slept on the wrong side of the bed? But he seemed fine not even a second ago.

"Ah, yeah." Yuri agreed reluctantly. He slid off the bed, staggering slightly from the headrush.

"Are you okay?" Yurio asks, grasping Yuri's elbow to hold him up. Yuri latched onto the arm that held him steady.

"I'm fine, just stood up to quickly. I think I'm getting a little sick or something from last night, that's all." Yuri smiled in a way that was hopefully reassuring, but from Yurio's expression, it wasn't successful.

"Can I walk you home?" Yurio asked suddenly.

"He'll be fine—" Victor started gruffly.

"I didn't ask you." Yurio snapped. "Look, Yuri. If you pass out on your way home, who knows what will happen? We just got you back and we'd rather keep it that way, wouldn't we, Victor?" the way Yurio said Victor's name made Yuri wonder if there was something he was missing. Yurio said it through gritted teeth and with a clenched jaw. It sounded like he was irritated, like there were undertones of a warning in his voice. Victor didn't seem to notice and stalked out of the room as if he couldn't wait to get away from Yuri.

"What the heck?" Yuri demanded. Yurio shrugged. "One second he was practically cuddling me and was all sad that I have to go back home, and then he just can't wait to get rid of me? I mean what's with this guy? He was a jerk and then he went out at two in the morning to find me, he's willing to cuddle me through a panic attack and then he's kicking me out?" nothing made sense. "And, no. You may not walk me home."

"I can't believe he's still being like this." Yurio complained and for some reason, burying his face in his hands. "This is ridiculous!" he burst out.

"Uh, Yurio? He's just a tad bipolar, really. It's not a big deal. I think."

"Not a bi—? God, you're both so… so…" Yurio's face turned red as he strained to find the proper word.

"So, what? Stressful? Because that's a really good word to describe Victor right now. Stressful. And trying. And taxing. And… other synonyms for stressful."

"Troublesome?" Victor's voice shouted from the living room. He said it in a pointed way that made Yuri bristle slightly.

"Yes, exactly, troublesome. Thank you!" Yuri shouted back with as much attitude as his sore throat would let him.

"So…. So…." Yurio continued as if he hadn't even heard the exchange between Victor and Yuri.

"Don't have an aneurism, Yurio, just say what you're thinkin—"

"Stupid!" Yurio suddenly shouted. Yuri blinked and jerked away at the outburst. There was a moment of silence as Yurio reveled in his word choice, clearly pleased with himself.

"I have to admit, that was not what I was expecting."

"God, it's so obvious, and yet neither of you have the balls to step up and— I mean come on, there's twice as many balls in your relationship as there are in a straight relationship and straight guys find a way to get the balls to do it, so why can't one of you? You've got twice the chance!"

"Wow, that… is… something. Yep. That's something. Why are you yelling about ba— er— male genitals?" Yuri winced as his voice cracked awkwardly as his twelve-year-old mind giggled furiously.

"You see it right? You have to see it. You'd be blind to not see it." Yurio sounded like he was begging. He also sounded a little insane.

"Are you okay? Have you fallen in the last 48 hours? Have you been drinking?" Yuri was seriously concerned for Yurio's sanity.

"Yuri, he loves you! He loves you, you absolute potato! Why can't you see that?" Yuri blinked. And he blinked again. He pursed his lips and cocked his head.

"Come again?" he must have just misheard him, that's all.

"He loves you, and you love him and you're both just causing more problems for each other and everybody else by not acknowledging your love for each other so just freaking do it!" Yurio's whole body was heaving as he gasped in air, completely out of breath from his rant. Yurio was clearly much more invested in his ship of Victor and Yuri than Victor or Yuri.

"Did… did you just call me a potato?"

"An absolute potato." Yurio admitted unashamed. "Now let's get you out of here, I can play Cupid for you idiots after Victor's calmed down."

"I… I have so many questions… I have no idea where to start." Yuri said.

"Start at the beginning," Yurio suggested unhelpfully. There was a sudden loud crash in the living room. "Actually, start at the beginning over the phone when you call me after you get out of here." He amended. Yuri nodded vigorously in agreement and both skedaddled out of the room. Yuri slid into a sitting position when they reached the door, so he could tug on his shoes. He felt rushed and panicked like he needed to get out of the building as soon as possible.

"My clothes!" Yuri exclaimed, suddenly remembering his wet and freezing clothes, and the borrowed… outfit. Where were they, anyways? He didn't remember seeing them in Victor's room.

"No time, this is a need-based retreat." Determination glinted in Yurio's eyes as he pointed dramatically at the door like a sea-captain. Yuri cocked an eyebrow. "I'll bring your clothes later, there's no time!" Yurio clarified, pulling Yuri of the floor by hoisting up under his arms.

"Wha— oh, okay. You do realize this is Victor, right? We don't need to run from him like he's a criminal on the lose or something."

"You're right, he's not a criminal. He's a freaking bomb. A bomb with pressure that builds up and eventually makes him explode. You do remember the whole reason you ran out last night, right?" Yuri rubbed the back of his neck, smiling with embarrassment.

"Heh…. Yeah."

"So, let's get you gone now before he explodes, and I'll talk him around while you calm your parents down. They're probably freaking out because you still haven't called them." Yurio hinted, shoving Yuri out the door.

"Okay, okay— stop pushing me, I can walk by myself!" Yuri complained as Yurio slammed the door on his face. The sound the door made when it slammed shut seemed final. Like an opportunity missed with a loud bang.

Yuri stood in the hall outside the apartment, the space feeling oddly still and silent compared to the hectic noise and activity that had been taking place inside. He blinked and sighed softly, trudging down the hall and pushing his hands into the pocket of Victor's baggy sweatpants— which Yuri just realized he was still wearing. He hunched his shoulders up as he stared at the ground, the movement sending a waft of something familiar up to Yuri's nose. It was Victor's soothing scent. For some reason it made him homesick, for an apartment that wasn't his home, the hot springs was his home. But he wanted to turn back. Like, really, really wanted to turn back. And run into Victor's and Yurio's arms. And apologize. And cry. Or laugh. Or both.

But he couldn't. So now where should he go? Yuri snickered bitterly.

He might as well go home.

Nowhere else to go.

Yurio gripped the door handle tightly after he shut it on Yuri's face. He tried to block the confused and slightly hurt eyes of his friend from his mind. Once the door had shut, Victor poked his head in from the living room.

"He gone?" Victor asked, only sounding slightly regretful. Yurio let out a bitter laugh. "Aw, come on! I didn't even do anything that bad! I'm just a little… moody?" Victor argued.

"Yeah— he was more upset with the fact that you were kicking him out, than he was because of your pissy attitude with him."

"I wasn't kicking him out, I just—" Victor attempted, but was shut down.

"You just realized that this isn't technically Yuri's home and it pissed you off and you lashed out." Yurio said matter of factly. When it was said that way, it sounded stupid. But Yurio understood. It was irritating to not be able to give someone you love what they need.

"Yurio, he has to go home! I did nothing wrong, okay? I had to get him to go somehow, didn't I?" Victor felt a sinking feeling that he just repeated his mistake from last night.

"You just can't do anything right, can you?" Yurio said bitterly, wondering just what had to happen for Yurio or Yuri to get through Victor's thick skull.

"I'm trying, I just—"

"No, you're not!" Yurio shouted, whirling around and looking like a rabid animal. His body heaved with sharp breaths and his eyes glinted with anger. "You know him! It's Yuri, for Christ's sake, everyone knows him! He just wants to be here with you, you idiot!" Victor threw his hands up in response.

"Come on, you and I both know how bad I'd be for him." Victor muttered moodily.

"So, you admit that it's a possibility?" Yurio asked slyly.

"That what's a possibility?"

"You and Yuri, of course! Jeez, you're both freaking blind, how do you stand it?" Yurio groaned dramatically, his hands dragging down his face in despair. Normally, Victor would've laughed at the rare antics his friend displayed, but he felt flustered by what Yurio was implying.

"I'm not— he's not— we're not— I can't—" Victor dragged a hand through his hair with distress, sending the normally styled locks to stand up and stick out at odd angles.

"You keep saying "not and "can't" and one day you'll look around and find that "not" and "can't" is all you have left." Yurio hissed cryptically. Victor opened his mouth to respond, but paused, looking suddenly puzzled.

"I have no idea what you just said." Yurio sighed irritably, reminding Victor of a teenager reacting moodily to a "lame" parent.

"It's something I heard in a song. If you keep saying that you'll never be able to have someone, then you really will never be able to have them because you'll be wasting all your time being negative and depressing instead of trying to get your man." Yurio explained wisely. Victor was still unconvinced.

"Is that where you're getting all your material from? Love songs?" Yurio threw Victor a shrewd look. "Okay, okay. I get it." Victor put his arms up in surrender "Be positive. It's a great message, really."

"You're so condescending." Yurio huffed. "Just…. Stop being a meat-head, okay? You were doing just fine before last night. Can you go back to doing that?"

"It just… it got… it's too close, Yurio. It's too much." Yurio sighed at this and clapped his hands together like he was praying. He bowed his head either in frustration, or prayer.

"Victor. I know you're scared of commitment, and that you're scared to admit that you're scared of commitment, but you need to get it together. For Yuri's sake. For your sake."

Meanwhile, Yuri trudged home alone, an old saying running through his mind.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

AN:

Sorry if this seems a little disconnected, or something. It felt weird to me, does it feel weird to you? It seems slow too, but don't worry! I got a few tricks up my sleeves!

So, Vikturi lovers, what did you think? I got all the ship things in there: the cuddling, the apology, the lovey-dovey face/hand holding thing, the quick save of the collapsing better half, the bridal carry, the sacrificing-because-I-screwed-up-and-almost-lost-the-love-of-my-life thing— all I'm missing is the kiss and the sex (no. I'm not going to write shmexy times because I have the mind of a 12-year-old and would be blushing the entire time I write it and I'd be giggling over words and terminology used to describe parts of the male anatomy A.K.A. I'd get nothing done sorry).