Six days have never seemed like such a long time.
It has been six days since Viktor and Yuuri’s birthday surprise. Six days since Viktor poured a good chunk of his heart into a soulful routine just for Yuriy and six days since Viktor and Yuuri both pulled the floor from beneath his feet. Six days since they presented Yuriy with legal guardianship papers, offering a sense of stability away from home that’s he’s never really been afforded on the road. Six days since he’d been given something as close to real parents that he’s ever had.
Six days since everything could potentially change, but two days since everything crumbled like a tower of wet sand being washed away by a rogue wave. Two days since Yuriy let his anger and bitterness get the better of him at last and he lashed out at Viktor. Two days since Otabek phoned him, probably with the intention of calling Yuriy out on his bullshit after reading the out-of-line messages he’d sent to Viktor when he’d been too angry and scared to stop himself. Hurt him before he hurts me. He’d done what he’d intended, but he never expected how badly he’d react to his own frustration and fear until he nearly broke down into tears over the phone.
Two days since Yuriy was able to fully gather his thoughts. Two days since he sat down and thought about everything–not just what would make Viktor or Yuuri or even himself happy, or what they all actually needed.
Two days since he stayed up until 3am so he could call his grandfather in St. Petersburg early enough that there was little chance that he was at his part time job he still insisted on keeping, but not early enough that Yuriy caught him before his morning coffee. Nikokai could tell the moment he heard Yuriy’s voice that something was wrong, and he asked, but Yuriy couldn’t tell him. Instead, they talked on the phone for almost an hour about nearly everything and nothing and anything except what Yuriy had actually called to ask him about. He wanted to know what his grandfather thought of the idea, the person who’d had sole custody of him since he was about eight or nine years old, but every chance he had to take, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Otabek would have chewed him out if he knew Yuriy had held back because he didn’t want his grandfather to worry.
Two days since they talked until Nikolai could hear the yawns Yuriy was suppressing, and once he realized the time it was in Detroit, Nikolai sent him off to bed and Yuriy hung up just as unsure as when he called. He didn’t get to sleep until almost seven the next morning and was thankful for the Sundays off from practice. He spent most of the day in bed alternating between texting Otabek, staring at the papers, petting Koshka, staring at the papers again and thinking so hard about everything until he knew.
Six days after everything, Yuriy finds himself standing outside of the ever familiar apartment with the papers in his hand and the answer in his heart. He knows what he needs to do and knows what needs to be said and done…he just hopes that the decision he’s made is the right one. Without a word, he ignores the spare key that he knows is still there, knocks twice on the door and waits.
@yuuri-katsu-done @viktorcupcakes
