maskormenacelogs | to feel safe again look over your shoulder ( closed )

Entry tags:

to feel safe again look over your shoulder ( closed )

WHO: viktor (

fourlevels ) & yuuri (

wonts )
WHERE: heropa #017
WHEN: now
WHAT: yuuri arrives in heropa and goes to check out his living situation. a reunion ensues?!
WARNINGS: probably some gross tears but will update as necessary

[ Yuuri feels like he's in a fog, and he's sure he probably looks no better, dazed as he wanders the streets trying to figure out what he's supposed to do. He'd been given some information about the place, enough to at least tell him something, but it's not enough. None of it feels like enough. Nothing in the folder makes any sense either, and he only skims it to get a sense of where he should go, the grip of anxiety digging deeper and harder in his chest the longer he walks. If he gets to this house, does it mean he's going to find someone there who might be a little more helpful than the people he'd tried speaking to after he'd arrived? Would any of this make actual sense? Would they tell him anything at all?

He almost has a panic attack a few blocks from number seventeen.

And another wave of apprehension hits him when he's finally standing on the doorstep.

He has a key, but he's afraid to use it for at least several long minutes until he takes a breath and just does it. There are no surprises waiting for him, the inside quiet and still—eerily so. Yuuri slips in and shuts the door, respectfully removing his shoes even as he glances at the layout of the place. He doesn't feel extremely comfortable being here without anyone seeing him, and he pauses, biting at his lip. If he looked around, it'd be too invasive, but someone had to be there... If not, that meant waiting until they did come home, and he has no idea how long that could take. He doesn't know how long he's going to have to be here wondering what's going on or how much he's already homesick and worried. ]

Hello? [ His voice wavers just a bit, swallowing around the lump in his throat. ] Is anyone here? [ Maybe he would explore a little and then wait outside if he didn't find anything. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Luckily for Yuuri, there's at least one pair of shoes by the door, a habit ~someone~ picked up from living in Japan that carried over to this crazy world.

However, the first person to greet Yuuri actually isn't a person at all. Bounding down the stairs, a great big ball of curly fluff practically pounces at Yuuri, nearly knocking him over in her excitement. ]

[ He knows that familiar bullet of fur anywhere, barely managing to catch himself before he's on his back on the floor, and Yuuri takes a moment to rub his fingers over those floppy ears. It's the disbelief that catches him a little off-guard, at first, and for a moment, he still feels like he's in a dream, pressing his face against Makkachin. He says the name under his breath, searching for something to hold onto. ]

How did you get here? [ It's mumbled mostly to himself, looking up over the dog's head in the direction she'd come from. There's a surge of hope then, and he stands from the crouch he'd dropped into, suddenly less afraid about what might be waiting for him in this house. ] Where is everyone? [ As if she would lead him right to the one person he's thinking of more than anything right now... ]

[ Makkachin's more concerned with trying to lick every inch of Yuuri's face and climbing all over him at the moment, overly excited and practically bouncing in place, pawing up at Yuuri as he stands back up from his crouch like she's trying to climb up into his arms instead.

There's sounds coming from the top of the stairs where Makkachin came from though, the sound of footfalls growing louder as the persons descends. Soon enough Viktor's hair can be seen, disheveled from the pillow is was lying on earlier and the fingers he runs through it in an attempt to tame the parts sticking out (of which he's only semi-successful). His eyes are still mostly closed as he yawns loudly as well, not seeing who came home yet.

He'd been napping, which isn't strictly out of the ordinary, but he's been doing it more often lately. He'd been feeling better after the Fanport where Yuri and Adachi helped drag him out of the worst of his depression, but he still felt so tired lately even if he wasn't really sleeping. He actually achieved sleep this time only to be woken by by Makkachin jumping up off of him and using his stomach as a springboard. His voice is slightly rough with grogginess, his Russian accent coming out a bit thicker because of it. ]

Makkachiiiin, that was mean ... [ He yawns before raising his voice slightly. ] Yura? How come you're back so early? I thought you had that brunch date with Oabek?

[ The world drastically narrows to practically nothing except for that familiar face, followed by that familiar voice, and warmth immediately spreads through Yuuri, hands absently trying to keep Makkachin at bay even as he finds himself staring. His entire focus has always easily gravitated towards Viktor, and realistically, it hasn't actually been that long since they'd seen each other. But there's just something about the softness of that look and the rumble of his voice that pulls at Yuuri's heart just a little harder than usual, body moving forward of its own accord to meet him at the bottom of the steps. Makkachin is still circling him, but Yuuri uses the gravity of his own fingers at the hem of Viktor's shirt to keep him from tripping.

It feels real. It feels like home.

And maybe, normally, he would have said something first, but he's nearly at the end of his wits, nerves knotted in the pit of his stomach as he slides his arms around him to anchor himself there. Yuuri presses his face to his shoulder despite how uncomfortable it is for his glasses to be smashing into his cheeks and nose, and he clutches at him, the fall of tears already threatening to burn closed eyes. Everything else is just a blur—even the mention of Yurio and Otabek. All he has is this, and at least he's not really alone anymore, winding himself closer and closer as though afraid it might disappear at any second. ]

Viktor... [ It's the only word he gets out, voice muffled against him. ]

[ Viktor's eyes are still squinted almost shut so he misses the movement towards him until too late, blinking them open just before another body thumps into is. Suddenly much more awake now and blinking rapidly to clear the last bits of grogginess from his eyes, the muted, fuzzy feelings of sleep are replaced with surprise. ]

Yura, what—

[ But the height is wrong for his Russian rink mate, the hair too dark, and the press of hard frames in his shoulder too familiar. His voice trails off without him being conscious of it, throat constricting as the surprise gives way to shock. ]

Yuu— [ is all he can manage before his body moves, again without conscious thought behind it as if it were his natural instinct to hold Yuuri as close as possible. One arm wraps around his waist and the other his shoulders, a hand burying itself in that dark hair along with his face, breathing in deeply there. ]

[ He doesn't know what he would have done if he hadn't embraced him back, but Yuuri's relieved not to have to think about that, melting into the warmth of the body pressed against his and so grateful for all of this. Maybe he should explain, and maybe he should say something besides Viktor's name. Yet, it's like they'd never parted. It's like the reunions they always seem to have regardless of who's around to see them despite how very conscious he is of the fact they're not standing together in an airport, and he slides his hands flat against the other man's back, fingers curling to pull at the fabric and hold on tight. He doesn't know how he manages it, but somehow, he finds his voice. ]

It's me. [ Soft, even softer, and he tilts his head just a little, focusing on the curve of Viktor's jaw. They're so close, and his heart is immediately in his throat. ] I'm glad you're here. No one was telling me anything...

[ That might have been the worst part of all this, but now that he knows... He sucks in a quiet breath, feeling everything fall back into the moment and how centered he suddenly feels, how good it is to see Viktor and Makkachin and know they're both okay. For some reason, there's an apology working its way to the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down, resting his cheek against his shoulder this time so he's not suffocating himself the longer they stand together. ]

[ Viktor's arms tighten around Yuuri even more at the subtle shift in position, as if he were afraid the man in his arms might disappear from them any moment. ]

I'm not dreaming, am I? You're really back? [ His voice is thick now, with a quiet tremor just underneath it. It matches the slight tremble in his body, the shock and surprise and sheer joy running through him overwhelming him. ] You're really here?

[ Yuuri doesn't know if he's ever heard Viktor sound like this aside from that one time in their hotel room, and it tears at his heart, choking him up so that he falls back to being silent once more as he tries to process what he's saying. Back? He doesn't ever remember being here in the first place, and that should be worrying. That should cause him to question every single thing he's seen and heard, but right now, all that matters is the need to comfort Viktor so he doesn't fall apart on him—or whatever might be worse than that. So, he ignores how tight he's squeezing him to slip an arm around him so he can touch his ear, his cheek. ]

It's real. I'm here. [ It's meant to be reassuring, but there's too much emotion in his voice to be anything but sincere. ] I'm not going anywhere. [ Yuuri means to promise that too, but how can he? He doesn't want to ruin this, and somehow, he always manages to do just that without really meaning to. His lips part, words falling out of his mouth unbidden: ] ... you're not a dream, are you?

[ Viktor already fell apart weeks ago, Yuri frantically trying to keep the pieces together long enough so that Viktor could pick himself back up; he finally had a few days ago with Yuri's and Adachi's help, but he still felt fragile, moreso than he ever remembers feeling before that time he met Yuuri.

The hand on his face helps him center himself, pulling his head back from Yuuri's hair so he can see his face as well as lean into that hand. His own is lightly flushed now, his emotions bringing color to his pale skin. ]

If we're both dreaming, then I don't want to wake up.

[ And it's the cheesiest thing he's probably ever said, but he couldn't be more sincere about it at the moment. ]

[ At least Yuuri's used to some of the more ridiculous things Viktor has said (and done), but he thinks this is almost sweet, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips even as he chokes back a soft laugh that quickly turns into a bit of a sob. It's relief and happiness and so many other things combined, and he pushes up to press his forehead solidly against Viktor's, soaking in his presence and the warmth and love he feels for this person. It's so much more than idolization, than the awe he'd felt his entire life, and there's almost nothing better than this moment, inhaling slowly as their noses bump and he feels Viktor's warm breath against his mouth. This is bold, but Yuuri doesn't care; he would never get tired of this. ]

It doesn't feel like one. [ A quiet murmur, and his fingers gently curve around Viktor's ear to hold him right where he needs so he can kiss the corner of his mouth. Everything about this makes him flush, heat creeping up his neck and into his face, but he doesn't move, doesn't want to breathe in case this moment disappears. ]

[ He leans in gratefully, resting his forehead against Yuuri's and just reveling in the sound of that quiet laugh, pleased he can hear it again. His eyes flutter closed with the gentle kiss, but he needs more, needs to feel Yuuri's warmth (that's steadily increasing) and his lips, needs to hold him close again to make sure it really isn't a dream. ]

Yuuri ...

[ He leans in for a proper kiss then, the feel of his lips replacing the feel of his name in his mouth. ]

[ The pressure of the kiss settles something else inside him he didn't know had been threatening to overturn itself, reaching for it even as he pushes back into the contact. Yuuri's arms slide comfortably around his shoulders, holding onto him and tipping forward so they're pressed thigh-to-thigh and resting perfectly against each other. He's aware of Makkachin having circled them a few times before leaning against their legs, and nothing could get better than this. Nothing could make him feel as comfortable or welcome, lips parting to kiss him just a little deeper before bumping his nose against Viktor's. ]

I was right. This is real. [ He smiles despite the apprehension that settles in his stomach at the thought of being here, wanting to focus on the good things. ] You're really here with me.

[ Viktor's just too happy at the moment to catch the connotations behind Yuuri's words, his mind buzzing with he's back he's back here with me he came back! He can't help it if his eyes are a little bit more red and wet than they were a moment ago, and truthfully he doesn't care; Yuuri's seen him cry before, as rare as it was, and this is a but better thing to cry about anyway.

He leans his forehead against Yuuri's again, noses still bumping as he drinks in the sight of him from up close. ]

When did you get back? Just now? You should have called me from the Porter, I would have come to meet you.

[ It doesn't really register that something might be wrong until he's talking again, going from comfortable one second to a little more rigid as the words sort of sink in. Then, Yuuri has no choice but to consider his surroundings, drawn in by how soft and sleep-worn Viktor actually looks in comparison to the way he probably reads as a stressed-out mess, and his heart starts to beat a lot faster in his chest, swallowing to force his nerves to calm as his fingers slip to rest lightly on his shoulders. For now, they're still alone, and he can always trust that sort of privacy with so much of the honesty that gets swept over in their busy lives. ]

I don't know what you mean. [ And his expression falls a bit, wanting to look at him directly but finding that his courage is quickly failing. ] I didn't know anyone else was here, so I couldn't have called... How long were you waiting? [ Somehow, he knows that's not the right question to ask, but he doesn't know what else to say. ]

[ Viktor can see and sense the shift in Yuuri, the way his expression dims and how his body tenses; he's gotten so much better at reading Yuuri when he's actually distressed, thank god. The concern over it distracts him momentarily from the full meaning behind the words, really only hearing the last part while he himself starts to frown in confusion. ]

You'd been gone for weeks now, just about ... a month? [ God, has it really been that long? Viktor was in such a fog before, he hadn't even realized how much time had passed until just now.

Then he starts to realize just what Yuuri is actually saying, eyes widening slightly. ]

... What do you mean you didn't know ... ?

[ ... oh no. His thoughts are starting to race now, drumming through him as fast as his pulse, and he's almost glad he's holding onto Viktor or he might have actually fallen over from the dizziness that's threatening to swamp him. Even if it's not a lot to be said, it's too much information to take in at once, and he looks at him as if the world has disappeared around them, Viktor's own expression not helping in the slightest. ]

This is the first time I've been here. [ Right? RIGHT? ] How could I...

[ He lets go of him after that, taking a step back and effectively managing to trip over Makkachin and go crashing to the floor on his back. Yuuri's recovery is quick, and yet, he doesn't seem to be able to pull himself up off the floor. So, instead, he just scoots back a little, having second thoughts about whether or not this really is a dream—or a nightmare. ]

I don't remember any of this.

[ Viktor's face falls when Yuuri confirms what he said, Viktor feeling his stomach drop out beneath him. He doesn't remember ...? Adachi had said that could happen, but it was so far removed from Viktor that he hadn't thought twice about it—it hadn't happened when Adachi or Yuri left and came back so why should Yuuri have been any different??

But clearly it is, and Viktor is startled out of his thoughts as he sees the telltale signs of Yuuri starting to panic, pulling away from Viktor—no come back, don't leave again!—and he has to stop himself from following after him, not wanting to crowd Yuuri when he's having a panic attack.

He does step in closer when Yuuri trips, moving in to catch him but missing. He kneels down to help him but and can't help the flinch when Yuuri starts to scoot away, summoning all his willpower to keep himself still.

(Makkachin has no such reservations though, and she moves in to sniff at Yuuri's face to make sure he's alright.) ]

Yuuri, it's okay, it's—this sort of thing can happen in this place. You're okay, I promise.

[ He wants to believe he has control over this, that there's nothing that could keep him from seizing up and shrinking in on himself at the thought of having missed... how much time? How much time is gone from him, and what had happened in that time? It's the next thing that overtakes his thoughts, and he's sort of zoned out to the feel of Makkachin's wet nose pressed to his cheek and the familiar pant of her breath in his ears. Viktor's words barely register too, something about all of this too much to take in and process all at once, and he keeps sliding backwards until he bumps into a wall, the pressure in his chest almost too much to handle. ]

How is it okay? [ His voice is thick, borderline tears, and he feels it building up until he has to press his hands to his face, pushing up beneath his glasses to settle his palms against his eyes in an effort to calm himself. ] I... [ He doesn't want to cry, but honestly, the urge has been building since he'd arrived. This is just more on top of what had already been there, hating how easily he's letting this upset the fact that Viktor is still with him. ] How long have you been here?

[ The words are clear despite how choked up he is, a deep shiver rolling through him. He's afraid of the answer, but he really wants to know. He needs to. ]

[ Viktor just looks more worried the farther Yuuri scoots backwards, even if he can't see Viktor's face at the moment. It is so hard not to just wrap his arms around Yuuri and just hug him until his attack passes and he feels more useless than normal with someone crying in front of him, only it's worse because Yuuri's not actually crying yet. His hands sort of hover in the air, ready to reach out or bring him something, anything. ]

It really is okay, Yuuri! This place is weird with times, like a science fiction movie. It's a little difficult to explain, but I promise it's real.

We arrived together a few months ago; it was January here, but I still remembered it being December. It was just after the Grand Prix Finale, and you were joining me in St. Petersburg.

[ He pauses in his explanation, realizing that if Yuuri didn't remember any of this ... ]

... Is that what you remember too? Were you on your way to Russia when you got here instead?

[ Everything inside him feels like bursting, and there's a shake in his hands that runs the length of his arms, into his body. He can't stop shivering, and it's so unnerving when he's used to better control, teeth clenching hard as he tries to convince himself not to cry. Now isn't the time, he wants to say. Now isn't going to help anything, and yet, it's as if he's frozen with fear that he's lost his mind a little, that none of this is real. For all he knows, he's just kissed a stranger, and that has to be worse than anything that could have ever happened to him, wanting to look at Viktor and believe this is just another moment in another place that hasn't been taken from either of them.

But he's losing his ability to breathe, and all he can manage is a fumbling sort of nod, pulling at his glasses to press his face into the crook of his arm. Time is what he needs, but apparently, it's also what he's lost most of too. ]

We were going to meet, and–and–

[ It's like a floodgate breaking open all at once, the hitch in his breath sharp before he starts to cry, and even in the back of his mind, he has no real idea why. Just that it needs to go somewhere, all of this pent-up anxiety that's making the room feel smaller and smaller, like there's no way out, and his tears are soaking through the fabric of his jacket, smearing across his face to drip from the curve of his jaw. He can't stop, and he feels horrible for it, which only makes him cry that much more. ]

[ Shit shit Yuuri's crying shit. Viktor still has no idea what to do with crying people, let alone Yuuri in the middle of a panic attack. Should he kiss him? Hug him to let him know he's loved?? Does he leave him alone so he can cry it out?? He said that one time that crying had actually made him feel better in China, but is this a similar situation??!?!

Viktor just sort of. Flails a bit in place, scooting a couple inches closer with his hands still hovering in the air towards Yuuri. He settles for resting one hand against one of Yuuri's ankles, hoping that small bit of contact is soothing or ... or something. ]

Y-Yuuri, it's okay, really! It's fine! Please talk to me, I have no idea what to say to make you feel better ...

[ Viktor is very lucky Yuuri doesn't kick him out of reflex, instead hiccuping into another deep sob that hurts his throat, and even though he tries to open his mouth to get the words out, all he manages is a quieter sound that doesn't make any sense whatsoever. It's like the way none of this makes sense, and while he appreciates Viktor trying to comfort him, Yuuri also doesn't know what he wants. Answers, maybe, but he's afraid to ask because he doesn't think he'll be able to handle anything else. And yet, he knows he has to say something at some point, pushing through the burning in his chest to relax beneath the weight of the hand on his ankle.

He's still crying, but it's not so much that he can't manage a few words. Right now, he doesn't trust himself enough to look at Viktor, and he knows it's awful of him not to. The thought nearly starts another cycle of those deep, hard sobs. ]

You don't have to say anything! [ The conviction is so strong that it almost surprises Yuuri with how harsh it sounds, his voice cracking. ] I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I don't remember... [ Because that has to be his own doing. Though he would never hurt someone so outright, especially not the people he cares about, and it sends him spiraling in all sorts of directions now that it's out in the open, the taste of his own tears in his mouth making him feel sick. ] I'm–I'm sorry, Viktor. This is my fault.

[ Blaming himself has always been easier than anything else after all. ]

[ Viktor's still at a loss of what to do and internally flailing, but something about what Yuuri says makes him raise his voice. It's not quite shouting—to make Yuuri hear him over his hiccuping, to make Yuuri look at him? Even Viktor doesn't know. ]

It's not! It's absolutely not your fault!

[ He withdraws his hand from Yuuri's ankle suddenly, straightening up even though he's still on his knees, hands on his hips as he looks down at Yuuri trying to press himself through the wall. ]

None of this is your fault. This place—it sometimes affects memories and even has physical affects on people. The porter brings us here and sends us back on who-knows-what's whim and sometimes—

[ Here he deflates a little, his voice losing its edge and shoulders slumping, hands dropping from his hips to dangle at his sides. ] And sometimes it's cruel. Like a force of nature that has disastrous consequences. We can't change it ... we can only accept it and try to move on.

[ He lowers himself, sitting back on his knees as he reaches a hand out to Yuuri. ]

... Will you help me accept it, Yuuri?

[ He doesn't know what he's supposed to do.

The tears are starting to slow, and the world is beginning to feel right again—less crushing, more breathable. His chest still hurts, his head throbbing with the unexpected outburst, but it seems so much easier to brave looking out beyond the safety of his arm, Viktor's face and outstretched hand blurred by the crying that probably makes him look like a mess. If he accepts all of this, it means he's going to have to face so much that still doesn't make any sense to him, get swept up in the rush of it, and he has no idea what that's going to mean for him. He can't ask how long they'd been there before he'd disappeared because he doesn't want to know how much time is missing, but it's already starting to curl itself in the back of his mind like an oppressive weight.

Had Viktor loved that Yuuri more? Would he love him less because of it? Would... It spirals faster and faster, and suddenly, he feels like he's going to have a panic attack, fingers fisting at his own shirt to add pressure to his chest rather than reach out for Viktor and reassure them both. He can't. He can't. ]

How? [ His voice is choked to a whisper. ] How am I supposed to do that? [ Yuuri looks at him as if he's desperately asking for help, feeling worse and worse. He doesn't know how he's supposed to explain why this is breaking him down, and for the first time since all the promises they'd made to each other, he doesn't want the comfort. He just wants to be alone. ]

[ Viktor's face falls just the slightest bit when Yuuri pulls back, but any disappointment or hurt he feels from the gesture is immediately blown away by concern, watching how Yuuri's fingers close around the fabric like a lifeline. Yuuri was this close to having a panic attack, if he wasn't already in the middle of one already.

The expression Yuuri gives him makes Viktor move without thinking, the caution he had before in not wanting to push Yuuri when (if??) he didn't want physical contact thrown completely to the wind as he surges forward to wrap his arms around Yuuri's shoulders. One hand cradles the back of his head, making Yuuri's face press into the warm space between Viktor's shoulder and neck, while his other arm wraps tightly around his back, pulling him as close as possible. ]

Just stay close to me, [ he whispers into Yuuri's hair, ] and don't ever leave.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

to feel safe again look over your shoulder ( closed )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject