AN:
There are either ghosts or rats in my house.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yuri! On Ice
My dog keeps staring up at the top of my closet or down at the floor very intently, which makes me think I have either ghosts or rats in my house. So, if anyone knows how to politely ask ghosts to leave without going all Ouiji on them or getting murdered by said ghosts— let me know.
Also, I had a lot of technical issues with this chapter (the end conglomerated into one mass paragraph, instead of being smaller separate paragraphs like I had at first) this is the redo. So any of you who saw the first one and were royally confused, you're welcome.
And now for the reason you're all here!
Ch2— The Rose Robber
"… I mean, I'm just saying. You couldn't have picked a better person to do this too? I don't have insurance yet— it's still in Россия... дерьмо я влип."
And that was the charming, one-sided, partly gibberish conversation that Yuri woke up to. Yuri squinted at the harsh brightness he assumed was coming from the stupid sun, feeling a deep ache throughout his body. He felt his back being stabbed by whatever in the world it was that he was lying on, but his head rested on something soft.
"клянусь Богом, if you end up paralyzed— if you die even a little bit, I'll—"
"Kill me?" Yuri asked, voice hardly recognizable. It was gravely and heavy, like he was a long-time smoker. Yuri forced his heavy eyelids open, only to have them slam shut from the bright sunlight that blinded him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall shadow start to lean in. He instinctively moved to wriggle away from the unknown object, but a hand rested on his chest to hold him down.
"Don't move, you might have a spinal injury or— or… just… sit up and completely ignore me. Okay." The voice was smooth and gentle, and it sent warm tingles through Yuri's fuzzy, discombobulated mind. Blinking a few times, trying to recall how he recognized the voice, Yuri realized it was the man who stole the flowers. Yuri continued to blink, images around him coming through like an old, shaky film. The man was— wow, the man was much more attractive up close. He had porcelain skin with a faint rosy blush and startlingly grey eyes that looked like the center of a storm.
"You're pretty." Yuri blurted out, hand coming to clap his mouth. Well, he tried to clap a hand over his mouth. His hand ended up being a little less coordinated than Yuri thought, and he ended up punching himself in the nose, sending bright sparks and spots of darkness through his vision.
"You idiot, cut that out! You're going to damage yourself more than you already have!" this guy seemed a lot grumpier than Yuri remembered.
"I'm not damaged…" Yuri slurred weakly, crinkling his nose as the man grinned warmly, almost affectionately at him. He ran a hand through Yuri's hair, probably checking for head injuries, Yuri's sluggish mind suggested.
"Sure, you aren't." the man agreed. "I still say you should go to the hospital—"
"Wait, why— oh!" Yuri exclaimed. Images of the moments just before this one snapped back into his mind like a key into a lock. "Did I fall out of the window again?" Yuri asked sheepishly. He felt increasingly… giddy the longer the man stared at him with that intense silver gaze.
"I'm sorry, did you say again?"
"Did I aim right? You know, fall right so I don't die or get paralyzed or whatever?" Yuri said, systematically flexing his toes and fingers, checking for breaks, tears, sprains and other injuries.
"You…. you have a method for falling?" The criminal asked incredulously.
"Well, when you fall as much as I do…" Yuri rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.
"I see… well, you didn't fall head first, if that's what you're asking..." the rose robber trailed off, fixing a curious gaze on Yuri, who felt himself flush again. "How did you fall out of the window, anyways? Are you that…" the man paused and seemed to be searching for the right term.
"Imbalanced? Careless? Uncoordinated?" Yuri offered helpfully.
"All of the above. Are you sure you're okay?" Yuri responded by testing his limbs and joints for motion and flexibility, then gave a nod.
"Are you protected by angels, or…?" the man asked honestly. Yuri burst into laughter, feeling the back of his head for any lumps or bruises.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with me. Can I get up now?" Yuri requested.
"How are you not injured?!" the man sounded like he was at his wit's end. Yuri shrugged.
"I don't know, take it up with the big man upstairs." He said, carefully sitting up.
"Wait, aren't some spinal injuries not immediate? What if you're internally bleeding or something? What if adrenaline is pumping through your system so fast, you don't realize the extent of your injuries?" For a thief, this guy was really thorough.
"Then we'll deal with that when we get there, Doc." Yuri said confidently, still more worried about the protection of his mother's flowers than he was with his own health.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Look, if it helps, my mom used to be a nurse. She taught me everything she knew, though I have no idea why…." Yuri muttered that last sentiment under his breath. "And with my accident-prone self, I've learned a lot about injuries. I can save you from severe electrocution and shock, I know how to preserve severed limbs until they can be sewn back on, I can do stitches in my sleep. Trust me when I say this: I. Am. Fine." Yuri said firmly and evenly, not at all like someone who was experiencing an awful headache along with the inability to see straight.
"I… okay." The man relented. "Fine. But if you die from a hemorrhage, or end up paralyzed or whatever, you can't blame it on me. Okay?" Yuri nodded at this and grinned, pleased that he won the argument. "But, please, go inside and lay down for the rest of the day?" Yuri mentally weighed the possibilities of overcoming the mans' puppy dog eyes. He relented.
"Okay. But—" Yuri said, cutting off the grin that was spreading across the other man's lips. "I demand that you come back tomorrow. I want to know why you're taking my mom's flowers." Something flashed in the man's eyes, but it was gone so quickly, Yuri figured it must have been his jostled mind playing tricks on him.
"Deal." The man stuck out a hand and Yuri reached out his own, which wore a few shallow scratches from his fall.
"I'll be back. I promise." The man winked. Holy ham and cheese, Yuri was having heart palpitations. "Do you need help getting back inside?"
"No." Well, Yuri tried to say "no." It came out more like "N-ye-no." Which the man took as a "yes," of course.
"I'll help you inside then. What's the safest way to carry a person who might have a spinal injury….?" The man frowned, tapping his chin in thought. "Wait, do I have to get you back upstairs?" he asked incredulously. Yuri nodded weakly.
"Sorry." He muttered. "You don't have to do this, I can walk." He promised, shifting to start walking towards the front of the house.
"Oh, I'm definitely helping you if there's stairs involved. Now what's the best way to do this…" the man trailed off thoughtfully, eyeing a blushing Yuri up and down.
"Fine, whatever. How strong are you?" Yuri asked, pointedly looking away from the muscles exposed by the man's sleeve-less shirt. "Do you think you can hold my weight easily?"
"You probably weigh less than a butterfly." Yuri grimaced at that.
"Well, the safest methods are the cradle carry or the backpack carry. Those are least likely to jostle the spine. Whatever you're comfortable with." Yuri said flippantly as if he didn't care. Oh. He cared. He cared a lot. He absolutely loathed the cradle carry. With a passion. It was basically the damsel-in-distress carry, or the bridal carry, or the princess carry— it has many feminine names, which Yuri did not appreciate.
"Cradle carry." The rose robber said. Yuri bit the inside of his face to keep himself from cursing but felt his chest warm when the man explained his reasoning. "If you're on my back, I can't see you to know if you're getting worse or if I'm causing you pain." This guy was a textbook example of the super-hero type.
"Fine." Yuri nodded reluctantly, holding his arms up like a little kid. "Let's get this over with." With surprising gentleness, the thief reached down with one strong arm under Yuri's knees, the other wrapping around his torso. Yuri felt himself lifted into the air, but he somehow experienced little pain or ache from his abused muscles. Despite how vulnerable he felt in this situation, Yuri felt secure. As in, safe. And, oddly enough, protected. He was held firmly— but carefully— against the stranger's warm, unsurprisingly toned chest by ripped arms that Yuri felt he could trust somehow.
The stranger was quick and light on his feet, despite his at least 140-pound burden. Yuri was glad for this because, for one: he knew he wouldn't be dropped, and two: the man's speed was useful in trying to keep undercover and not seen by prying pedestrians and gossipy neighbors. If the old lady and her husband across the street saw Yuri being carried around by a buff man in a muscle shirt, she'd probably have a talk with Yuri's parents before ever letting her grandkids walk on Yuri's side of the street again. And the journalist next door was chomping at the bit for new, juicy gossip. Seeing that local, awkward-boy-next-door Katsuki Yuri was swept off his feet by a foreign hunk with white hair and bigger guns than the military would definitely give her something to write about.
Before Yuri knew it, the mellow voice of his knight in shining armor pierced his thoughts.
"What?" Yuri croaked. The guy had the gall to grin. Not like a little "aw cute" or even a "what a dork" grin. No, this was a sexy, sultry, gimmie-gimmie kind of grin. And it hit Yuri in the chest like a freaking freight train.
"I asked where your room is." Could this guy's voice get any huskier? Was it even possible? And what was with the wording of that question— then again, is there another way to word that question, but still it's a weird quest— oh right, he asked a question, questions need answers—
"Gah— ah —I mean— i-it's that one." Yuri stuttered, pointing to the door at the end of the hall he had lead the bandit through. The steady rocking motion of the man's body as he walked with Yuri in his arms was disturbingly soothing. Yuri felt his bones melt as his body relaxed into the criminal's arms. His eyes slid shut— just for a minute. He wanted to rest his eyes, he spent all night staring at his backyard, after all— and his head rolled against the stranger's shoulder limply.
When Yuri woke up, he was very confused. He rubbed his stinging eyes and muffled a long yawn that threatened to crack his jaw in two. Smacking his lips sleepily, he stretched his arms up and slid out of bed, the cool white sheets tangling with his legs for a moment. He brushed a hand through his messy hair as he shuffled to the window. He relished in the golden sunshine that streamed in through the window when he pushed the billowy blue curtains to the side. Pushing up the window, he leaned against the sill, hopping up on it so he could better see the world outside his sleepy bedroom.
Birds sang cheerfully, flying around each other in fantastic aerial displays while butterflies and bumble bees kissed flowers lightly, granting them life. A gentle breeze swept through Yuri's hair, refreshing him in every sense and making his curtains dance like ocean waves. Trees whispered in response to the wind, and chimes hanging from nearby porches jingled cheerily.
It felt like the beginning to a good day. A day where the neighborhood kids ride their bikes up and down the street and play ball in each other's backyards. A day where the elderly folk feel well enough to sit on their porches and witness life and youth bustle around them. A day where hard working parents and students are glad and thankful for what they do. A day where—
神聖なたわごと. There's a strange man in Yuri's bedroom.
Yuri let out a muffled screech when he saw the reflection of a person standing behind him in his window, but the man was quick enough to clap a hand over Yuri's mouth before his desperate, blood-curdling shrieks could be heard by anyone.
"You're lively in the morning." The man said good-naturedly, as if it was a normal happening to wake up to a stranger in your room who may or may not have been watching you sleep. Yuri stared at the man, frozen with the hand still clamped on his face.
"Are… are you okay?" the stalker asked. That snapped Yuri out of the silent break down that was slowly shutting down his brain. Yuri smacked the man's powerful hand away from his face.
"No, I am not okay— what are you doing here?" Yuri hissed. Oh, God. What if his parents found out. Holy, snap. They probably had so many questions, not to mention a family conversation about the acceptance of any sexuality Yuri might feel he possessed— dear Lord, let the accusations fly…
"No one knows." The man spoke up suddenly, moving to sit in Yuri's desk chair. He picked up an arbitrary manga he must have been reading while Yuri slept. This man. Watched Yuri sleep. And broke into his manga collection.
Boundaries.
"Dear, whatever deity is currently cursing my existence, I ask you now to forgive my transgressions and grant me peace from the demon that currently resides in my dwelling—"
"What are you— are you praying?" the man asked incredulously. Yuri kept his hands folded together and didn't even twitch an eye.
"Shut up, this is an emergency, okay?" he hissed, eyes still closed, and face still tilted upwards in prayer.
"You have emergency prayers?" The man sounded like a cross between amused and befuddled.
"Yeah, for creepos like you who stalk innocent people and read their manga while watching them sleep!" Yuri retorted sharply, opening one eyes to glare at the man.
"For the record," the man said, laying the book back down on the desk and leaning forward towards Yuri, who started praying faster. "I never watched you sleep." Yuri paused in his frantic talk to available deities. He opened one eye.
"Come again?"
"I never intended to stay either," the rose robber added. "After I dropped you off in bed, you wouldn't let me go." The man grinned triumphantly, like he had earned a trophy or won a contest.
"I… what?" Yuri felt his face light up in flames of blush.
"You kept clinging to me, asking me not to go." The man shrugged. "And who was I to deny—"
"Yeah, yeah, but I clearly let go— er, eventually— so why did you stay all night?" Yuri asked suspiciously, trying to cover his embarrassment of the image of himself holding onto the rose robber and refusing to release him. Sure enough, the criminal sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair. Christ, was he pouting? God, that's really ho— frantic praying, franticpraying—
"Okay, okay. After I managed to claw you off— you're like a barnacle, did you know that? Or… or a starfish." Yuri squinted at this analogy. "Anyways, after I shook you off, I heard voices coming from the front door. I guessed that they were your family and figured you wouldn't want any of them to see me, so I stayed in here. I sat down, and… well, I guess I fell asleep because I woke up seconds after you."
Yuri blinked. This thief was oddly… considerate? Yuri shook his head. The man gave Yuri a bit of human decency. Yuri deserved decency, after all the trouble he went through to stop the thief from stealing his mom's flowers.
"By the way, are you okay?" the man asked, standing up from the desk chair and slowly walking over to Yuri, who sat on the edge of the bed. Yuri blinked, his slow mind finally snatching moments from the day before to starve his confusion.
"Ah, that…" Yuri trailed off as the man sat down on Yuri's bed, strong hands unexpectantly beginning to run up and down Yuri's spine. "I— a-ah— I'm f-f-fine…. You?" he managed. His body was still sore (as expected, he fell a good seven or eight feet), but the warm, tingly trails racing up and down his back were electrifying and intense. Yuri wriggled out of the way, hissing as something twinged in his back.
"くそ." Yuri grunted, hand reaching back on instinct to press against the sore area. Little did he know, that his shoulder was also damaged from the fall. The joint groaned at the movement, causing Yuri to let lose a sharp yelp, like a kicked puppy.
"Fine, huh?" Yuri expected the man to be smirking at Yuri's weakness, or chuckling at his refusal to admit injury, but when he turned around he caught a concerned glance from his stalker instead.
"Who are you?" Yuri blurted out. "Er, what's your name?" he corrected when the stranger looked suddenly disturbed, probably thinking Yuri forgot who he was.
"Victor."
"Victor, what?"
"I only have one name. Victor."
"Do you— ow, shite— do you have family?" Yuri asked between embarrassing pained gasps. His stalker— Victor Nolastname— was digging his fingers into the kinks and swollen muscles in Yuri's back like a pro.
"Sorry, sorry. It'll hurt for a bit, just let it pass." Victor practically crooned, as if he were soothing an infant. This was not supposed to be happening. Yuri was not supposed to be rooming with this mother's flower-thief and he was not supposed to be getting a massage— a brilliant massage— from said flower- thief because he fell out a window.
"Your family?" Yuri prompted, wanting to get something tangible, other than a name, out of his… companion. Victor sighed, voice heavy but hands soft. His warm thumbs were digging into Yuri's shoulder, which was sinfully, painfully, beautifully soothing to the aching muscle and stressed joint.
"Why exactly would I tell you? Within the first two seconds of our meeting, you accused me of stealing flowers from a depressed woman."
"That's because you were stealing flowers from a depressed woman." Yuri retorted. Victor was silent for a moment.
"You have a good point, but why should I trust you?"
"Isn't that my line?" Yuri asked incredulously.
"…fair enough, but I don't now what you might do with any information I give you."
"I'm not running to the cops, if that's what you think— ow!" Yuri clapped a hand on his neck, which had popped loudly under Victor's ministrations.
"Sorry. Your neck and back are really tight. I'm just reliving some built-up pressure." Victor said, resuming his massage. "And to answer your question, no. I don't have family." Yuri noticed the darker tone his voice held when he said the word "family." It was almost a sneer.
"Everyone has family." Yuri said quietly, dying to know but also scared to find out (or push the criminal giving him too far). Victor sighed and leaned to sit on the backs of his calves, a single hand stroking Yuri's back. "Dad died. Mom left. Single child. The end." "Grandparents, cousins, aunts, unc—" Yuri prompted.
"Grandparents: dead. Aunts: none. Uncles: one, dead. Cousins: two; one dead, one in prison. I have no family." The air was so heavy and tense Yuri could cut it with his blunt freaking questions.
"I have a sibling. She's annoying, I can share." Yuri blurted out. He expected the man to get offended and say how lucky Yuri was to have a family, but Victor merely chuckled. And, God, his laugh…. His laugh was like golden honey and soft caramel melting together in an oozing puddle of sweetness in the sunshine of a warm summer day— dear Lord, send help—
"Once your family finds out I've been stealing their flowers, I don't think they'll want me anywhere near your little sister."
"She's not younger than me. She's, like, 30."
"Oh. How old are you?"
"Old enough to know not to tell you." Yuri shot back.
"Early twenties?"
"How'd you—" Yuri began, but noticed that Victor was holding Yuri's driver's license in his hands. "Wow, how'd you guess." Yuri said in a flat voice, snatching his ID back. Victor snickered.
"Your sarcasm. It hurts." Yuri rolled his eyes and stood up, noting Victor's odd movement behind him. It looked like he had been reaching out, as if to pull Yuri back down onto the bed with him but thought better of it and withdrew his hand. Yuri shook his head. Wishful thinking.
Yuri walked over to his closet and began pulling a pair of dark jeans and a fluffy white sweater out of the throngs of fabric. He had half tugged off his shirt before remembering that there was someone in his room, other than himself. Victor made an awkward coughing sound, like he was clearing his throat and Yuri flushed red with realization.
"Well, don't look, if it makes you uncomfortable." He grumbled, ignoring how his voice wavered slightly. Despite what he said, Yuri hid behind the closet door, quickly stripping out of his clothes. "Hey, what did you want with my mom's flowers anyways?" Yuri asked curiously, tangling himself in his sweater on accident.
"You said something about needing them…" When Victor didn't respond, Yuri stepped up onto a couple boxes stored at the bottom of his closet and peeked over the door. Victor was clenching the white sheets on Yuri's bed in a shaking fist, jaw almost as tense as the rest of his body.
"I did— do need them." Victor said softly in a calm sort of angry voice.
"And you need them because…." Yuri tentatively coaxed him. Victor turned his face further away from Yuri's view, his body's trembling amping up to at least a five in the Richter scale. Yuri ducked back down behind the door, tugging his jeans up. He stepped out from behind the doors as he buttoned his pants, struggling to make it over to Victor while wrestling with the button.
"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly, plopping down next to his… person. Victor nodded glumly and attempted to answer Yuri's previous question again.
"I needed them to…. To give to someone." Victor said carefully, as if afraid he might say something wrong.
"Oh." Yuri couldn't help but feel disappointed. "A girlfriend?" Victor shook his head, and Yuri couldn't help the elation that soared through his heart.
"Boyfriend." Victor corrected. "I was planning on meeting up with him… today." And Yuri's heart plummeted with the sound of a cartoon whistle.
"Ah." Yuri muttered, fiddling with the ends of his sweater's long sleeves. He felt a blush rising on his face as disappointment rushed through his veins. He berated himself for even hoping that this stranger would even look his way. "I see." Victor gave Yuri an odd look.
"Are you… you're not…. homopho—"
"Lord no, God no— heck no— I'd be, like, afraid of myself, which I guess is a legitimate, deep fear, you know. Not deep as in "depth" but deep as in "that poem is deep, bro," you know what I mean? The fear of oneself and his or her abilities, maybe even their tendencies towards evil or sin or felony or what have you." Yuri babbled. Gah. He just came out to a complete stranger. Gah.
"That's good— well, I mean, it's not good, per say, but it's not bad. It's…. it's interesting— ugh, that sounded bad too, I mean that it's okay, that's great? I guess…" Victor's eyes raced around the room, looking everywhere but at Yuri, and his rate of fidgeting skyrocketed. Yuri rather enjoyed watching someone other than himself babble themselves deeper and deeper into a whole they couldn't climb out of.
"Right. Well. On that note, can I meet this lovely gentleman?" Yuri asked, fluttering his lashes obviously. What was he doing? Hey, stalker/thief/wanted criminal, mind if I meet your boyfriend? The Bonnie to your Clyde? The Harley Quinn to your Joker?"
"Uh… well…"
"Great!" Yuri exclaimed, scrambling to pull on a pair of boots. "And don't worry about disturbing my parents, or them finding you. They're at work. Well, work is technically stuck to the back of my house. Well, actually, the house is attached to the back of the hot springs— that's their work, the hot springs, I mean— so it's not that far away or anything…. Anyways, they'll be too busy to notice you." Yuri shut himself up with the snap of his jaw.
"Or you?" Victor sounded disbelieving. Yuri paused, wondering what he said wrong.
"I… they're busy, so…" he blinked in confusion.
"So, they don't notice you." Victor finished. Yuri clapped a hand to his forehead.
"No, no, no. They notice me. Really, they do—"
"Yeah, they noticed you fell out a window yesterday, did they?" Yuri raised his index finger, then lowered as if thought better of what he had been about to say.
"You know," he started carefully. "Just because my parents are a bit busy trying to give me the best life possible, doesn't mean they don't love me."
"I never said they didn't. I just noticed that they don't pay attention to you." Victor shrugged and stood up, stretching enough that his shirt road up a bit, revealing a line of pale skin and toned muscles. Yuri blinked and glanced away, willing his suddenly spotty thoughts to focus.
"They're busy." Yuri repeated firmly, wondering why Victor was making such a big deal of this. Victor raised his hands as if in surrender.
"Alright, alright. I just meant that, well… that people should appreciate the things in their lives.. But… it looks like I've offended the host, so I'll just be on my merry way…" Victor attempted to sneak off, but Yuri lashed out and grabbed his collar.
"Oh, no. You're going to introduce me to your boyfriend." Yuri corrected. "And after that, then you can go."
"Why do you want to meet my boyfriend?" Victor asked, voice sounding suddenly strangled. Yuri shrugged, internally cursing his impulsive brain.
"I want to let him know that his good, yet expensive taste in flowers is ruining a depressed, orphaned, working mother's garden."
"Really."
"Yeah. If you've stuck with him, then he must be a good guy, right? Most good guys don't like their boyfriends to steal. Especially if it's from the kindest, most beautiful yet struggling and pained woman in the world." Victor gnawed on his lip for a minute. Yuri swore he could see the cogs in Victor's brain spinning as the poor guy tried to find a way out of this. "
What if I just ran off?" Yuri raised an eyebrow. "What if I walked out the front door and never came back." "I have your name. I've got a pretty good description of how you look and sound, and I've got brief— very brief— but existing family history. They will find you, Victor Nolastname, they will find you." Yuri said seriously. Victor gave Yuri a startled look. Yuri burst into cackles, unable to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, yeah, you got me. Ha ha." Victor said sulkily, like a child denied a shiny, new toy. "You can come to see— uh, meet— er, I'll take you to my boyfriend."
"Easy for you to say." Yuri snickered. Victor looked a seemed miffed at being laughed at, sticking his head up like a meerkat and sniffing with disgust. This only made Yuri laugh harder.
"Are we going, or not?" He asked, walking stiffly to Yuri's bedroom door. Yuri snagged a pear coloured rain jacket, hearing the skies beginning to open up outside his window and pour onto his roof.
"Do you not have a jacket?" Yuri asked, wriggling into his own. Unsurprisingly, Victor was still in the grass-stained jeans and loose muscle shirt he wore the day before. Victor glanced down at his apparel and shook his head, looking slightly embarrassed. Yuri thought a moment before speed walking out of the room.
"Wait here." He ordered, as if he were speaking to a dog or a small child. Yuri padded down the hall, ignoring Victor's confused expression. He walked up to his parent's door and announced his entrance, sliding the door open.
Thankfully the room was vacant. The space was relatively clean, a couple of articles of clothing were strewn across the hardwood floor, the beds soft covers spilled onto the floor, and a few stacks of papers piled up on the dark mahogany desk. Yuri carefully made his way through the room, trying to not upset anything in the room or leave any sign that he had been there. He snuck over to his father's closet and began rummaging around the suits and t-shirts and slacks.
"Aha!" he crowed triumphantly. He pulled a simple black rain jacket out of the back of his father's closet where it was nestled between two university sweatshirts. He shut the closet and raced out of the room, back down the hall and met Victor at his bedroom door.
"Here you are, you can borrow this." Yuri said breathlessly, handing over the jacket to Victor. Victor stared at it like it was a foreign object. Yuri furrowed his brow and looked at the jacket in his hand. There was nothing wrong with it. Sure, it was plain, but it both looked and smelled clean.
"Do they not have jackets where you're from?" Yuri asked dumbly. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment at the sudden, impulsive and clearly ridiculous question. Victor's sudden burst of laughter erased that feeling quickly.
"I'm from Russia. Trust me, we have jackets." He accepted the rain coat while Yuri marveled at his pronunciation of the word "Russia." After he slipped on the coat he allowed Yuri to help him with the zipper. "I just wasn't expecting…."
"You weren't expecting what? Human decency?" Yuri snorted, before his face sobered. "Wait, do they not have human decency in Russia?" Victor glanced at Yuri like he was the funniest and most risible thing in the world.
"Some would be willing to argue." Victor said between chuckles, as if he was making a joke. Yuri didn't get it.
"Anyways, thanks for the jacket."
"Don't mention." Yuri said, waving his thanks away. "Let's go see that boyfriend of yours." He said with a grin as he headed down the hall, feeling oddly excited. It was like his stomach was a shaken soda— bubbly and fizzy and about to explode (if that made any sense at all. It was definitely a new and strange feeling). Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed when he reached the end of the hall that Victor wasn't behind him. "Are you coming?" he asked, sliding the rest of the way down the hall in his socks.
AN: Dun, dun, DAAHHHH! Did I surprise you? Probably not, I bet you guys can see right through this plot. It's okay, you'll read it anyways, because you love me, right (please don't notice my plot holes)? Also, sock sliding. Specifically, Yuri sock sliding. It gives me life. Have a good one, loves, see you back here next week!