Three days had passed since Victor had stumbled into his apartment a sleepy happy mess of a man.
Three breakfasts had been consumed since Chris had smugly revealed the other side of Yuuri, leaving Victor confused and hornier than he cared to admit.
Three afternoons had rolled past since Victor had snagged the calendar from Chris's fingers, expertly tearing the month of April from the spiral rings and sprinting from their living room to evade Chris's attempts to recollect the page.
Three hundred texts had been sent and received, some taking up the entirety of the character limit, a steady flow of jokes and near-hourly updates between Victor and the man he had already fallen for.
Sometime around message fifty, Victor had decided to leave the topic of Yuuri's athletic popularity alone. Ignoring Chris's voice in his head, Victor had decided that Yuuri either didn't want Victor to know about his position as the country's leading male lacrosse player (Victor may have googled a thing or two) or Yuuri believed that Victor was already aware of the information and found it not important enough to mention. Victor wasn't particularly pleased with either possibility, but he was over-the-moon happy with how easy and wonderful it was to experience the connection he shared with Yuuri. If building their relationship meant blindly trusting a theoretical list of Yuuri's potential reasons for not addressing the topic, Victor could easily resolve to do just that.
His phone was currently quiet, in a way it had rarely been over the past few days. Falling asleep to Yuuri's messages and waking up to Yuuri's adorably misspelled morning texts had vastly improved the quality of Victor's moods. He had restrained himself from asking Yuuri about his consistently early morning hours, relieving his own curiosity by obtaining the training schedule for the lacrosse team from the folder in the file cabinet in Dr. Feltsman's office. His boss and mentor had only lifted a silently inquisitive eyebrow when he found Victor copying the schedule, muttering under his breath about not wanting to know. Victor guiltily stuffed the photocopy into his bag, shoving the folder back into its place and hustling from the building in order to avoid being around when Yuuri's team returned from practice.
Part of accepting his forced naiveté about Yuuri's life meant not allowing himself to accidentally bump into Yuuri at the training facility. It was nearly unbearable to force his feet to leave the building, especially when he hadn't seen Yuuri since they had said goodbye on Sunday morning and he knew that a delay of mere minutes could resolve the yearning lingering in Victor's heart. Resigning himself to continued torture, Victor jogged toward his car.
The drive to his shared apartment with Chris was a short one. Their town was small and most of the decent apartments were housed on the outskirts of campus. Smiling as he heard his text alert beep in his pocket, Victor safely parked his car before retrieving his phone and laughing at the gif of a sleeping panda that Yuuri had sent him. Finding a gif of two pandas cuddling, Victor quickly sent it back and hummed happily to himself as he jogged up the stairs to his apartment.
Slipping his phone into his pocket with one hand and unlocking the door with the other, Victor sniffed the air as the door swung open, sighing happily when the scent of Chris's famous boeuf bourguignon floated through the air to greet him. Kicking his shoes off, Victor hung his keys on the hook by the door and quickly moved to stow his bag in his bedroom before returning to the kitchen. "Smells great," he commented, leaning over the pot to cautiously dip a finger toward the boiling contents. He snapped his hand back when Chris smacked it with a spoon.
"No stealing!" Chris scolded, swatting Victor again on his hip and nudging him away from the stove. "We have company coming and you are in charge of setting the table." Flipping the edge of his apron into his hand, Chris bent to open the oven, sliding a tray of perfectly braided mini buns out onto the available space on the stove.
Confused, Victor blinked silently in Chris's direction, eyes finally traveling to the stack of four bowls, spoons and tiny plates next to their sink. Suspicion mounting, Victor hesitantly lifted the pile of dishes and silverware, circling around Chris to place them on the table. "Who exactly is coming to dinner?" With an eyebrow raised in Chris's direction, Victor began to set the bowls in front of each of their four chairs.
"Phichit and Yuuri," Chris responded, sparing a fleeting glance in Victor's direction and smirking at Victor's further confusion. "Yuuri doesn't know it yet, so it isn't like he hid it from you. They are coming straight from practice."
Victor groaned, abandoning his job and flopping into the closest chair. "I haven't said anything to him… about… you know…" Victor flailed his hands when Chris gave him a disapproving look over the stove. "He has to have a reason he didn't say anything. I want to respect that!" Also, Victor thought trying to school his facial expression into something casual, there was still a chance that Yuuri assumed he knew. There was no way he was going to make himself look like an idiot by saying differently and he banged his head on the table to try to rid his brain of his own stupidity.
"That's sweet actually," Chris opined, sliding his homemade bread buns into a basket. "It also prevents him from finding out that you are a clueless moron." His laughter was deep and amused when Victor groaned into another round of light head banging. "Enough of that," Chris commanded, placing the basket of bread on the table and hauling Victor back to his feet by his shirt collar. "They will be here soon, make sure this table looks nice! We have boyfriends to impress!"
Victor felt his heart stutter on Chris's use of the word boyfriend. He certainly wanted Yuuri to be his boyfriend, but he had spent every minute since Sunday morning trying to convince himself it was too soon for a label of that nature.
Rearranging the table settings at each chair, Victor let his mind hope that maybe he was wrong in his assessment. He smiled at his own excitedly shaking hands, his pathetically sappy hope soaring that maybe after tonight the title of boyfriend would be his own.
Hot water ran over Yuuri's bare shoulders making him groan into the heated relief. His muscles ached as he rolled them under the water, desperate for any hint of reprieve that he could chase down under the burning shower. Hands filled with shampoo, Yuuri shoved them into his hair and scratched roughly against his scalp trying to rid the strands of caked on sweat and clumps of dirt. His shoulders protested his movements, making him bite back a groan as he scrubbed at his skin. Around him, the teasing shouts and boisterous conversation of the locker room faded into white noise.
Soap ran down Yuuri's face, his mind racing as he replayed each minute of practice. He had convinced their attackers to give him everything they had, encouraging Phichit to taunt their teammates into releasing their most unbridled attacks. Yuuri had become a wall, blocking each and every shot, his body and stick working as one unit to prevent any of the flung balls from striking the net.
Two weeks stood between his team and the championship series. They had two regular season games left and with their current record, they would be heading into the final tournament at the top spot. Everyone credited their winning streak to Yuuri's impenetrable defenses at the net, but Yuuri constantly reminded all of the players that they were a team. Games couldn't be won by blocked shots alone, and Yuuri emphasized this, as much for his own sanity as for the confidence of his teammates.
Still, Yuuri felt the pressure to win sinking deep into his stomach, swirled with the knowledge that his team had yet to lose a game since he had joined them in his freshman year. With each passing season, with each game added to the winning tally, Yuuri could feel the intensity of the streak thrumming in his veins. One goal could be the end of it all and Yuuri tried to force this thought away as he slammed his hand down to turn off the shower.
Swiftly toweling off his body, Yuuri wrapped the damp terry cloth around his waist and flung a second towel over his shoulders to catch the droplets dripping from his mop of tangled hair. His hair had been steadily growing since the beginning of the team's winning streak and he didn't have the courage to cut it while the streak was still going. Padding his barefoot way back to his locker, Yuuri silently pulled his most comfortable sweats from the folded pile on his top shelf.
"No way," Phichit slapped the sweats out of Yuuri's hand, chuckling when Yuuri cussed. "I made plans for us and you cannot go looking like you do when you zombie into the dining hall moaning for coffee." Retrieving his own clothes, Phichit pulled on clean briefs before hopping into a fresh pair of jeans.
Yuuri watched the action with a look of exhausted trepidation. "Phichit, I don't have anything else with me and I'm tired." Sinking down onto the bench, Yuuri lazily worked his own briefs up his still damp legs, yanking the towel from his waist and tossing it toward the closest laundry hamper. "I want to go raid the dining hall for tater tots and then collapse face down in my bed. No exceptions."
"Yes exceptions," peering at his own reflection in the mirror suspended in his locker, Phichit ran a comb through his hair. "Cute exceptions. Chris and Victor are making us dinner."
Yuuri counted himself lucky that he didn't fall backwards off of the bench. He had been steadily exchanging text messages with Victor over the last few days, but the idea of seeing him again had Yuuri feeling flustered. His heart danced with butterflies while his stomach churned with uncertainty. Although Phichit refused to confirm his suspicions, Yuuri was almost positive that some sort of discussion had gone down about Yuuri's role on the school's lacrosse team. Victor had never said anything outright, but he also conveniently never asked what Yuuri was up to during the hours directly before, during and after Yuuri's practices.
When he remained silent for too long, Phichit smacked him in the face with a towel. "Come on, it'll be fun. We could both use a little smooching to distract us from the looming doom of the tournament. And Chris is supposedly a great cook."
Blinking, Yuuri stared up at Phichit and then back down at his own mostly naked body. "You won't let me wear my clothes," Yuuri stated, sounding incredibly forlorn over his own words.
Snorting, Phichit slammed his locker shut, tossing his towel in the hamper and moving to the end of their locker row. "Leroy!" he yelled, rolling his eyes at Yuuri's squawked protest. When JJ's cocky smile appeared around the corner, Yuuri felt his stomach roll for a different reason.
"What can I do for you, P?" JJ ran a hand through his hair, still strutting around shirtless despite being the first one out of the showers.
"Do you still have a plethora of spare clothes in your locker?" Phichit threw a nod over his shoulder directing JJ's inquiring look toward Yuuri. "Our star player seems to think sweatpants are appropriate date material."
Scoffing, JJ shook his head disapprovingly at Yuuri. "Never fear, JJ style is here!"
"Pick something hot!" Phichit yelled, winking in Yuuri's direction. Disappearing around the locker, JJ missed Phichit turning to Yuuri with his hands in a mocking gesture of JJ's signature move. As Yuuri laughed from his place on the bench, a mixture of nerves and amusement, he reached for his deodorant and cologne. If he had to dress like JJ at least he could smell like himself.
"Everything I own is hot," JJ belatedly argued, presenting a pair of ripped jeans and a fitted black t-shirt into Phichit's arms. "This is all I have that will stand a chance of fitting our all-star. Hot date?" Crossing his arms over his bare chest, JJ leaned on the locker to aim his question in Yuuri's direction.
"Yes," Phichit answered for him, wrestling the black t-shirt over Yuuri's head. He laughed again when Yuuri scrambled away from him, snagging the jeans from the bench and shoving his legs in them before Phichit tried to put them on Yuuri as well.
The legs were comically long, hanging beyond Yuuri's feet despite the decent fit of the fabric over the muscles of Yuuri's thighs and backside. Flopping his feet back and forth, Yuuri pouted like a toddler, glaring in Phichit's direction. He remained unamused as Phichit dropped to the floor, grabbing Yuuri's ankle and forcing him to hold still. With skilled fingers, Phichit rolled each leg of the jeans to expose the bone of each of Yuuri's ankles.
"Rolled jeans are a good look on you, Katsuki," JJ slapped a hand on Yuuri's back. "Have a good night," tossing a set of j's formed by his fingers in front of his chest, JJ grinned when Phichit returned the gesture.
"Why do you encourage him?" Yuuri asked, making sure JJ was out of earshot before broaching the question. Leaning down, he pulled on his socks, folding them down to be under his heel before slipping on his shoes.
"Because he's a fellow freshman," Phichit tossed his bag on the bench and zipped it closed. "And really, he is a nice guy, a little immature, but hopefully he'll grow out of it. His enthusiasm is good for team morale."
"Whatever you say," Yuuri rested his own bag strap on his shoulder, turning to snag his stick from its resting spot. His helmet and pads would hang on the rack to dry while his practice jersey would get a whirl through the team laundry facilities. He never left his stick behind though and as he rolled it between his hands, a thought crushed the excitement that had been gradually building inside of him. "We have to go home first."
"No time," Phichit grabbed his own stick, clicking it playfully against Yuuri's and leading the way out of their row of lockers. "I've got mine too so it won't be a big deal."
"But Phichit… I still haven't…" Yuuri trailed off, eyes falling to the ground when Phichit fired a judgmental look in his direction. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Victor, it had simply become awkward to now mention the fact that Yuuri had an additional portion of his life that required attention. Topped with his suspicions about what Chris or Phichit might have said, Yuuri had opted for silence instead of the evitable awkwardness of trying to interject the information at this point.
"Well, consider the stick an ice breaker then," pushing from the locker room's swinging doors, Phichit took a sharp left to head out of the training facility. "It's going to be really hard to ignore when you show up at his apartment with your big stick. And your lacrosse stick too." Laughter rippled through Phichit as Yuuri batted him on the back of the head with the net of his stick.
"Promise me you won't make jokes like that at dinner?" Yuuri could feel the nerves beginning to crawl under his skin and his roommate's incessant teasing was doing nothing to relax him.
"Not a chance," Phichit declared happily, linking his arm with Yuuri's and pulling him in the direction of a hot meal and even hotter men.
Trying to sort out what he could possibly say to Victor, Yuuri let himself be led across campus, joined at the hip with the world's most talented instigator.
A knock on the door had Victor's head shooting up from where he had tried to bury himself in a book. He had definitely read the same page several times while determinedly tuning out Chris's cheerful singing in the kitchen. Most of Victor was incredibly excited to see Yuuri again, but there was a persistent part of him that was worried their chemistry had been a fluke. Most people, with the exception of Chris and Dr. Feltsman, tired of him easily and Victor had felt the fear growing inside him that the same would happen with Yuuri.
Unfolding his legs and delicately replacing his bookmark, Victor reached the door at the same time as Chris. Letting Chris do the honors, Victor stepped to the side, appreciative of his own foresight as a body launched into Chris's arms with surprising force.
"My boyfriend," Chris cooed, planting little kisses over Phichit's face to make him giggle. "Want to come see the fabulous dinner I made for you?" Relieving Phichit of his bag and lacrosse stick, Chris snaked an arm around Phichit's waist to guide him toward the kitchen.
Shyly, Yuuri peeked at Victor from the doorway. "Hi," Victor said, reaching forward to grab the strap of Yuuri's bag. His cheeks flushed when he realized how breathless he sounded. "Come in," Victor eased the bag from Yuuri's shoulder and then reached for the stick in his hand. "I can take this too." Subconsciously pausing to gently cradle the stick in his hand, a quick flash of the poster Chris had of Yuuri leaning on the stick drinking a glass of milk had Victor almost dropping the rod of metal on the ground. "So, um, you play…?"
"Uh… lacrosse. Yeah I kind of do," Yuuri shrugged, stepping further into the heavenly fragranced apartment and using the excuse of closing the door to avoid Victor's eyes. His ears burned as he heard Phichit yell "kind of do, this guy!" from wherever he had vanished to.
"Do you think…" Victor trailed off, losing his train of a thought for a moment as he took in Yuuri's muscular build beneath the tight jeans and even tighter t-shirt. It was enough to leave Victor's tongue tied. Fingers still curled around the stick, Victor lifted it in the air. "Do you think I could see you play with it sometime? Uh… your stick, I mean."
"Oh my God," came Phichit's voice from the hidden part of the kitchen and Victor winced with his own awkwardness. Poking his head through the doorway, Phichit looked exasperated. "We have a game on Saturday, you should come to that." Ducking away again, they distinctly heard Phichit defensively say, "I am trying to help, they are killing me."
The last two words of Phichit's sentence were muffled and Yuuri could only guess what Chris had decided to do to shut him up. Shuffling his feet, Yuuri bit his bottom lip and considered Victor from under his eyelashes. "It would be nice… you know… if you wanted to come. No pressure though!" Raising his hands, Yuuri waved them back and forth with a swift shake of his head.
"I'll be there," Victor smiled, taking a tentative step forward and reaching out to run a hand through Yuuri's damp hair. Chickening out on kissing Yuuri, Victor settled for a quick hug, jumping back when Chris shouted "dinner!" from the kitchen. Linking his hand with Yuuri's Victor smiled as Yuuri's head rested against his shoulder. Awkwardness aside, Victor felt himself begin to settle with Yuuri by his side, a feeling that he cherished and feared in equal measure. Convincing himself to simply enjoy the moment, Victor took a step toward the dining room, slipping a sneaky kiss against Yuuri's hair as they walked.
Dinner had been surprisingly relaxed, conversation flowing through the four of them without pause or stuttered rhythm. Seamlessly they had transitioned into playing cards, Chris picking the most inappropriate game he could find in their small stack and Yuuri shocking them all by playing the crudest and most hilarious combinations.
By the time the black and white cards had been rehomed in their box, Victor's stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He couldn't remember a single time in his life that he had felt so relaxed, the stress of his job, thesis, and school feeling incredibly far away at the moment. His arm tingled where it rested around Yuuri's shoulders and he couldn't help the stupidly giddy smile on his face as he peered down into Yuuri's flushed cheeks and breathtaking smile.
"You know," Phichit piped up from his place on Chris's lap. "Someone should really do all those dishes." Yuuri recognized Phichit's tone of voice, tearing his gaze away from alternating between Victor's lips and his eyes to level a suspicious look toward his roommate. "Obviously, Chris shouldn't do them because he cooked. And I can't do them because I don't know where anything goes…"
"Yuuri and I can handle the dishes," Victor lowered his arm from its place around Yuuri and stood. For some reason the idea of sudsy bubbles and domestic chores with Yuuri was pulling steadily at his already lovesick heart. He grinned when Yuuri nodded, worrying slightly about the cautious glare Yuuri was still aiming in Phichit's direction.
"Good," Phichit agreed, sliding from Chris's lap. "And I'll help you," hooking a finger in between the buttons of Chris's shirt, Phichit pulled him to his feet, "unmake your bed."
"Remember we have practice!" Yuuri yelled in vain, shaking his head as Phichit blatantly ignored him, laughing with Chris as they disappeared down the hallway.
"Your friend is really something," Victor commented, tugging lightly on Yuuri's belt loop before releasing his hold and rounding the counter toward the sink. "I think Chris may have finally met his match."
Following Victor, Yuuri chuckled. "Phichit had a crush on Chris for forever. Last semester was torture trying to survive all the pining." He nudged Victor with his hip, taking a place in front of the sink and flicking on the faucet. Carefully, he drizzled soap onto a sponge and set about scrubbing the dishes piled in front of him.
Yuuri's forearm muscles flexed with each dish he maneuvered, making Victor's throat feel dry. The tightness of Yuuri's black shirt had been plaguing Victor's self-restraint all night, and he had slipped more than a few times, running his fingers over the powerful muscles of Yuuri's back whenever he had even the slightest excuse to do so. The slickness of Yuuri's skin paired with the sweetness of his voice had Victor distracted and he fumbled the plate Yuuri placed in his hands to dry. Laughing sheepishly, Victor avoided Yuuri's eye contact, quickly redirecting his concentration to the towel in his hands.
There was something about Victor's blush that made Yuuri want to kiss every inch of it. Every time Victor had touched him throughout the night, Yuuri had felt caught between sighing into the comfort and feeling electrified. Normally he shied away from physical contact, reserving it only for the people he was closest too, but he found himself craving it from Victor. Sneaking a glance to the side, Yuuri caught Victor's eye and smiled, handing him another plate and letting his fingers linger over Victor's hand for an exaggerated moment. Eyes flicking down to Victor's lips, Yuuri felt compelled to lean forward, pulled by an unmistakable need to kiss Victor again.
A loud moan had them both jumping, noses clipping each other as they looked in the direction of the hallway. Bursting into uncomfortable giggles, Yuuri raised a hand to stifle his laughter, accidentally covering his nose in bubbles.
Victor's brain melted at the adorable sight of Yuuri's bubble-covered nose. In the midst of his own chuckles, he reached up to brush away the suds. His jaw dropped open in shock when Yuuri shifted and covered Victor's face in bubbles instead. "Oh, it's on now," he laughed, reaching into the sink and scooping up a handful of bubbles to dump them into Yuuri's hair. He laughingly slumped against the counter, leaning forward to clutch his stomach in reaction to Yuuri's offended squawk.
Narrowing his eyes, Yuuri grabbed a handful of bubbles and raised it in Victor's direction. He released another shocked noise when Victor snagged his wrist, holding it straight up in the air and bringing their chests flushed together. This close, Yuuri could feel Victor's heartbeat racing against his own and without thinking he let his free hand reach to squeeze Victor's waist. Tipping his chin up, Yuuri tested his own confidence by innocently cocking his head to the side. "Can I help you with something?" he teased, his heart hammering faster when Victor's eyes left his to focus on his lips.
"God, you're cute," Victor whispered, giving up any chance he had at resisting the man in front of him. Dipping his head, Victor went for the kiss he had been desiring from the moment Yuuri had stepped through his door.
Yuuri felt the tension leaking from his body, sensation spindling out from every point where Victor was pressed against him. They fit so perfectly together, even leaning at an odd angle against the kitchen counter, and Yuuri felt his head begin to spin with all the desires his body was beginning to register at once. He could barely connect his thoughts beyond the feeling of Victor, almost missing the loosening of Victor's grip on his wrist. Feeling his raised arm drop a fraction of distance, Yuuri smiled into their kiss, sneakily lowering his hand and pressing the palm full of bubbles against Victor's cheek.
Breaking the kiss, Victor looked at Yuuri in playful shock, growling in mock anger as Yuuri stepped back with his hands in the air. "Now we're even!" Yuuri determined, continuing to walk backwards out of the kitchen, refusing to turn his back on Victor. He yelped as Victor sprang toward him, hands scrambling over Victor's back when Victor threw him over his shoulder. Yuuri wasn't light, but Victor found that carrying Yuuri over his shoulder was oddly satisfying to a very primal part of him. Without giving it much thought, Victor carried Yuuri through the door of his bedroom, tossing him down in the middle of Victor's bed.
Shock and a slight sense of fear zinged through Yuuri's mind. He wouldn't deny that he had been aroused by kissing Victor, but he was taken back by suddenness of Victor's actions. Curling his fists in the sheets, he tried to convince himself to breathe, reminding himself that they were playing and not racing toward anything more. With a shaky smile, he looked around Victor's bedroom trying to find something to comment on and coming up remarkably empty. The room was perfectly clean and simply furnished.
"It's… uh… not much…" Victor regretted his decision to drag Yuuri into his private space, realizing too late how little personality his room held. The rest of their apartment was filled with touches of Chris, but Victor's room was extremely totalitarian, used for studying and sleeping and not much else. Other than his bookshelf of alphabetized books and the corkboard which held the framework notes and cards of his thesis, there was nothing that specifically spoke to Victor's life at all. The space was almost clinical in its tidiness and Victor felt himself flushing as he watched Yuuri take it in.
Honing in on the board tacked to the far wall, Yuuri scooted across the bed to peer at Victor's carefully penned index cards. "Is that for your thesis?" Yuuri asked, nodding in the direction of the board before pushing off the bed and leaning in for a closer look. "Victor, these are like a work of art." He meant it too; each card was written in multiple colors and created a cascading pattern across the board, the points stair-stepping each other as they built toward Victor's final analysis. Even in note form, the concept was incredible and Yuuri turned wide eyes to Victor. "I want to know everything."
Victor's heart melted in his chest at the genuine interest in Yuuri's expression. He had worked so hard to perfect his research and wanted nothing more than to share his ideas with someone. Unfortunately, Chris's eyes glazed over as soon as Victor started talking muscle groups and his fellow doctoral candidates were all too focused on their own studies to listen to Victor ramble about his. Realizing he had been silent for far too many seconds, Victor cleared his throat. "I would love to tell you if-"
"Please," Yuuri cut Victor off, wanting to cease whatever doubt Victor had in his mind about Yuuri's sincerity. Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers into Victor's and tugged him to sit on the edge of the bed. Pointing to one card with dark orange writing, Yuuri smiled up at Victor. "Start here and tell me everything."
Stealing a quick kiss, Victor settled against Yuuri's side, wrapping his arm around Yuuri's waist and excitedly bouncing as he started from the beginning.
Thunderous clapping made the world around Yuuri shake, stomping feet and a crowd chanting his name created a swell of overwhelming noise around him. Alone on the field, he stared down an opposing team, comprised not of collegiate players but of angry demons glaring at him with glinting red eyes. He couldn't breathe, his fingers slipping inside of his gloves as they advanced on him, each of them cradling a ball and looking to destroy him from multiple directions. He couldn't stop them all and the screams from the crowd told him that the fans knew it as well. A black hole opened beneath his feet, causing him to stumble back into the net and flail as it wrapped around him, smothering him with its looped strands.
An unfamiliar song broke through Yuuri's dream, vibrating over the field and filtering in light with a steady stream of Yuuri's name. The voice calling him was familiar and Yuuri struggled against the net tightening against his pads to locate his potential savior.
"Yuuri!" Victor rubbed Yuuri's back, feeling the pressure of Yuuri's arms crushing around him. He had been awoken when Yuuri whimpered against his clothed chest, his consciousness snapping completely awake at the sound of his alarm mixed with the increasingly distressed sounds Yuuri was making. "Yuuri, it's ok! Wake up!" He wasn't exactly sure what to do, so Victor settled on rubbing Yuuri's back with one hand and shaking his shoulder with the other.
Eyes fluttering open, Yuuri sat up, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings. Registering Victor speaking from behind him, Yuuri slowly twisted to look down at his boyfriend.
They had decided to take a chance on the title upgrade somewhere between Victor's detailed outline of his thesis and Yuuri's barrage of follow up questions. It had been Victor's prompting, blurting out "would you want to be my boyfriend?" in the middle of another detailed question from Yuuri, which had started the conversation and Yuuri's stunned but delighted "yes!" that had cemented it. They had fallen into each other after the decision, curling together in the middle of Victor's bed to exchange sweet kisses and loving cuddles.
Peering down at Victor now, Yuuri couldn't help the smile spreading over his face, the memory of his nightmare evaporating as his vision was filled with the adorably rumpled sight of his boyfriend. Victor's bed head was endearing and his button down shirt was wrinkled from having Yuuri's face pressed against it. There was a warmth spreading through Yuuri, despite his nightmare, simply from waking up in the morning next to Victor.
The morning.
Throwing himself from the bed, Yuuri stumbled toward the window, processing the unusual amount of light for his normal waking hour. Yanking his phone from his pocket, he screeched. From down the hallway, he heard a similar reaction.
Racing into the hallway, Yuuri crashed into Phichit who looked equally as panicked. "We're late!" They screamed in unison, slamming their shoulders together and groaning as they sprinted toward the door, hopping into their shoes and banging out of the apartment with their bags and sticks flailing into the air as they ran.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Chris looked over his shoulder smirking as Victor flopped into his own doorway. "They are going to have to run a lot of laps because of us."
Victor heard a hint of pride in Chris's statement, shaking his head in confusion. He loved falling asleep to the sound of Yuuri's sleepy breathing, the weight of Yuuri across his body had given Victor the best night's sleep he could ever remember having. Unfortunately, it seemed that it would also lead to Yuuri being reprimanded. He didn't know anything about the way Coach Celestino ran his team, but Chris's statement stayed with him even after the man himself had vanished into the shower.
Quickly changing his clothes, Victor gathered his bag and made his way toward the closest coffee shop, determined to make it to the doors of the locker room before the end of Yuuri's practice. He could only hope that Yuuri wouldn't regret their night together after whatever punishment he had to endure because of it.
"Fifteen laps," Yuuri collapsed onto the closest bench, his whole body exhausted from running the field with the sun too high in the sky for comfort. Morning practice was never his favorite, but this morning's had been absolutely brutal.
"At least you didn't have to do it with a sore ass," Phichit remarked, lowering himself gingerly to the bench and groaning. Slyly he poked Yuuri with his toe, "or maybe I shouldn't assume…"
"Don't finish that sentence," Yuuri threatened, smacking a lazy hand against Phichit's bare calf. "We aren't there yet," he said simply, cutting off Phichit's predictable follow up question. His face burned with where his mind had wandered, Phichit's innuendo waking up a part of Yuuri's brain that he didn't need spurred right before he hit the team showers.
"Showers, boys!" Celestino shouted, his smirk almost evil when he spied his goalies sprawled over the bench. "Next time, we'll be on time, right gentleman?" He laughed as Yuuri and Phichit agreed with matching groans.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Yuuri found himself lost in his thoughts under the water. Being late and rushing to the field had kept his mind from returning to his nightmare, the stress of practice and the remaining high of his night with Victor were also excellent barriers to the dark fear which had bred the evil thoughts. Now, as the exhaustion from practice settled into his bones and the exhilaration of adrenaline still spun through his mind, Yuuri could feel the lurking monsters trying to push forward in his mind. Shoving his face under the steady stream, Yuuri fought them back, concentrating on the mental image of Victor's messy bedhead and sleepy morning smile.
Nervously, Victor paced in front of the locker room doors. He could have easily walked in, and had on occasion when immediate evaluation of an injury was required, but somehow he felt like he would be violating Yuuri's privacy. They didn't have time to discuss their accidental sleepover and it had left Victor with an unnerving sense of desperation. Clutching a cup of coffee in each hand, Victor spun around at the sound of familiar voices coming closer.
"I still say it was worth it," Phichit argued, nudging Yuuri's shoulder to emphasize his point. Yuuri smiled at his feet, his cheeks feeling warm as he nodded his head in agreement. Even though he could feel every step he took like a vibrating wave of fatigue washing through his body, he couldn't convince himself to regret the night. "Seems that someone else would agree as well," Phichit commented, nudging Yuuri again and nodding ahead of them.
The flutters in Yuuri's stomach were undeniable as he spotted Victor anxiously bouncing on his toes, increasing exponentially when Victor's face lit up with a smile. "Go get your man," Phichit whispered, waving at Victor before ducking away to head to class.
"I'm so sorry," they blurted at the same time, both of them looking confused and immediately breaking out in matching nervous laughter.
"I brought you coffee," Victor handed the cup to Yuuri, taking a step closer and lifting his free hand to run it through Yuuri's damp hair. "I'm sorry if your coach punished you for being late."
"Worth it," Yuuri smiled, sipping from his cup and stepping further into Victor's space. Seeing Victor here, waiting for him like Isabella waited for JJ and Guang Hong waited for Leo was doing funny things to every part of Yuuri. Tangling a fist in the front of Victor's shirt, Yuuri reached up to plant a kiss against Victor's surprised lips. Releasing his boyfriend, Yuuri laced their fingers together to guide Victor toward the exit. "It was only fifteen laps," Yuuri shrugged, stumbling when Victor stopped short.
"Fifteen sounds like a lot," Victor's eyes were impossibly wide as he took in Yuuri's shrug. "Granted I know nothing about lacrosse or your normal conditioning, but still."
"I could teach you," Yuuri blurted out, clamping his jaw shut and looking anywhere but Victor. After hours of learning about Victor's research the night before, Yuuri felt himself growing eager to teach Victor about something new. Reluctantly hopeful, Yuuri looked back to Victor.
"Yes, I want you to!" Squeezing Yuuri's hand, Victor nodded enthusiastically. "When is your next free night?" Pausing by the big glass doors at the front of the building, Victor let go of Yuuri's hand to hold his hip instead.
"Friday," Yuuri heard himself answer, his mind already whirling with excitement. "We only have light practice since we have a game on Saturday." His heart began to race again as Victor leaned down to kiss him.
"It's a date," Victor whispered against Yuuri's cheek, pecking another kiss there and then dotting one on Yuuri's nose for good measure. Usually Victor was eager to get to work, but this morning he found himself wanting to delay it until the last possible second.
Tilting his head to receive one last kiss, Yuuri smiled when he pulled away. "I'll text you when class is over," he smiled over his shoulder one more time, pushing open the closest door and letting it close quietly behind him.
Cloaked in his own elated mood, Yuuri sprinted to class, chiding himself for being late again on account of the most wonderful human he'd ever met. Even as his professor shot daggers at him from overtop of her half-moon spectacles, Yuuri could feel his good mood triumphing. Settling into his seat, Yuuri took a chance at unlocking his phone, grinning at the row of blue hearts waiting to greet him.
Sending back his own set of emojis, Yuuri dropped his phone into his bag. Flushing when he found his professor eying him again, Yuuri decided that fifteen laps and intermittent professor death glares were definitely worthy prices to pay for getting to spend the night in Victor's arms.
