Chapter Text
Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, watching Yuuri sleep soundly, trying to ignore the phantom tug of hands in hair that had long been cut off. He counted Yuuri's breaths from beside him, matching them. It wasn't working very well. His hand were trembling and sweat dripped down his neck. He couldn't breathe.
The sun was barely over the horizon, small rays of orange light catching dust in their path from the open window. Yuuri always slept in. Viktor should make him breakfast, do something likeable for a change. His body wouldn't listen to him, muscles still frozen gripping the sheets. Biting his lip didn't help him stop hyperventilating, only muffled each breath, but he'd spent years persuading himself it did.
Somehow he still sat perfectly still, not daring to even try and push the feeling of touch away. Watching Yuuri breathe normally beside him while he felt suffocated. Yuuri had done well in the finals though; he won silver and Yuri won gold. He was proud of the boy who seemed to be on the same path as him. Although he was worried before his grandfather turned up, Yuri also performed so much better with support. Getting distracted helped to get his breathing under control.
By the time he'd managed to fully calm himself down, the birds had finished their morning song. Yuuri was still sleeping; that was okay since they still didn't need to be at the rink for a few hours. He'd played it off the night before, talking about Yuuri's drunk experience at the gala last year but at the time he'd been terrified. Sure, maybe Viktor already had a bit of a crush on Yuuri even then, but the man just coming up to him and hugging him when he was drunk. That had scared him, only for a moment, but talking about it yesterday made him remember the feeling.
He trusted Yuuri, really he did. He just needed to prove that he was good enough for Yuuri to keep him. Thinking on ways to do that, Viktor finally stood up hand sweeping unconsciously around the back of his neck as if to brush away his hair. Maybe he should start growing it out again, Yakov liked it longer. His fans probably preferred it grown out a bit more than it was currently. Yuuri would probably like it more too, since the other man used to watch him skate as a teenager.
If Yuuri were to retire, even though Viktor though it selfish, then he probably wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore. He'd only been his coach for one season, yet already, it seemed Yuuri was fed up of him. Even with their promise rings, he doubted they meant any more to Yuuri than he'd said they had, a good luck charm. Even if he'd picked up on it Yuuri was much less keen to open up when sober and tended not to drink. Not that Viktor minded that, quite the opposite it; he much preferred if Yuuri didn't drink often.
He thumbed the ring on his finger, holding his hand to the light from the window to see it glint. He hoped Yuuri would stay with him if he retired, maybe then it was his time to be selfish and keep Yuuri- no. He cut that thought off before it was formed. His parents had always told him he was difficult; it was Yuuri's decision about if he wanted to stay or not. Not his. It was never his decision when people left.
Normally when he felt like this he would skate. The ice could never leave him, and if everyone else did, then he would still be able to envelop himself in each new program, forgetting the people from the season before easily. He didn't want that this time, and he wanted Yuuri with him when he skated now.
He wanted to skate with Yuuri forever.
Yet the man was still asleep; why couldn't his internal clock be the same. Every night Yuuri spent hours overthinking the previous day and asking Viktor questions when he just wanted to sleep. Then he slept in every morning because of the late night, while Viktor was unable to sleep past 6am no matter what. Most of the time, he was unable to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time without waking himself up.
He needed a shower, even if the only purpose was to scrub his skin red and raw again. Like he used to before competitions. The scratches used to sting once he stepped into the cold of the rink. He walked slowly to the bathroom, careful not to wake Yuuri, and set the temperature to cold hoping to shock his system to be able to start the day properly.
It worked well. He stepped out the shower and put on a simple black top and trousers before walking to the living room where Makkachin was napping on the sofa. He felt bad for kicking the dog out of their room that night but he couldn't sleep with it. Maybe it was better if he hadn't slept; Makkachin had been unusually yappy.
Reaching out to pet him, the dogs ears twitched in sleep. Viktor found himself lying his head on the edge of the sofa, staring out the window as he scratched Makkachin head gently. Wet hair fell over his eyes, distorting the light in the room but Viktor didn't push it back. Even though every time he blinked it felt like the flashing cameras of paparazzi that followed him around.
Makkachin nuzzled into his arm, bumping his nose against his head. Viktor startled slightly then lifted his head and climbed onto the sofa in order to pet the dog better. There was movement from the other room, suddenly Viktor realised he hadn't put on socks. Raised scars stood out on his ankles and he didn't feel like talking about them to Yuuri. It would be fine Viktor thought pulling Makkachin up to curl up on his lap, hiding his scars from sight.
"Viktor? You're up early," Yuuri yawned coming out of their room and spotting Kor on the sofa.
"No, you're up late." Viktor said smiling as he looked at Yuuri. "Look at the time; we've only got an hour before we need to be at the rink. That's not even enough time for a run beforehand."
Yuuri groaned, going over to the kitchen to grab cereal. "You eaten?" He asked.
"Yeah." Viktor lied almost automatically, not that it mattered he wasn't hungry anyway. He just kept petting Makkachin softly as he watched Yuuri get ready.