A short fic for day twenty-nine of the YOI 20+ Club’s Daily Art Challenge.
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Note: Packing counts as part of travel, right?
Watching Yuuri pack is a revelation. Victor is sprawled out on Yuuri’s bed as Yuuri piles clothes and costume bags and toiletries and other odds and ends around him. They’re listening to Mika on repeat, which Victor hadn’t even known anyone else liked until he’d walked into Yuuri’s room an hour ago to find it playing while Yuuri sifted through drawers looking for a particular shirt.
Victor nearly always forgets something when he travels. His toothbrush, his makeup, his button-down for the banquet and once, memorably, the belt to his long program costume. Yakov had been forced to call Mila and tell her how to break into his apartment so she could get the key to Victor’s apartment to look for the belt and bring it with her when she flew out the next day.
After enough incidents, Victor had gained a reputation for being forgetful. Forgotten items, forgotten promises, all of it a source of wry amusement to his teammates (and sometimes a source of ire, like when Yurio had showed up to claim the skating program Victor had promised).
Victor’s never had the will to explain that it’s not that he’s forgetful, it’s just that his brain is sometimes so sluggish that it’s all he can do to get himself out the door and to the rink, let alone plan for something so far in the future as a three-day trip to a skating competition.
The one exception, of course, being his trip to Hasetsu, when he’d simply packed everything.
Yuuri, though, is meticulous. He has an app on his phone where he has curated different lists depending on the destination, the time of year, and the length of trip, which he updates when he buys new clothes or skating gear. He checks, then rechecks, then triple checks before adding anything to his suitcase. Victor likes the jostling as Yuuri tucks items around him and rearranges them against Victor’s side while contemplating what to bring to the Cup of China.
When Victor had wandered into Yuuri’s room after shoving a large assortment of clothes as well as his entire makeup kit into a large suitcase, Yuuri had barely given him a glance before gesturing vaguely at the back wall, where his bed and his desk sat. Victor, interpreting the gesture as he wished, had chosen the bed.
Yuuri had simply given him a smile and laid his costume bags across Victor’s stomach.
Victor has his eyes closed, enjoying Mika’s ‘Step With Me,’ when Yuuri breaks the quiet.
“What do you think?” he asks. Victor opens his eyes to see Yuuri standing by the bed in what must be his banquet outfit.
It’s… hideous. Victor can admit this because although he believes Yuuri is beautiful at all times, he has noticed that Yuuri often does things to downplay this fact. This outfit being one of those things.
“Yuuri, didn’t we get already get rid of that tie?” Victor tries to keep the dismay out of his voice.
Yuuri frowns. “It’s a different one.”
“Oh,” Victor replies. He doesn’t really want to move, but he also needs to correct this situation.
He reaches out for Yuuri’s hand, tugging Yuuri closer to the bed. Yuuri’s knees bump the side. Victor keeps reeling him in until Yuuri climbs onto the bed next to him. Victor then reaches up and un-knots the tie, his fingers ghosting over Yuuri’s neck as he does. Both are quiet as Victor gently slides the tie off of Yuuri and lets it drop to the bed.
“There. Now you’re perfect. I packed extra, you can borrow one of mine if you want.”
Yuuri looks better than perfect, but Yuuri was asking about the outfit, not for a soliloquy about how his legs fit in his dress pants. Which Victor will give him, hopefully in the near future.
Yuuri, having seen the way Victor packs, gives Victor a look. “Are you sure you even know what’s in your suitcase?”
Victor lifts a finger, “Your makeup,” another finger, “Extra copies of your registration paperwork,” a third finger, “the Makka tissue holder,” a fourth finger, “and wool socks, in case you ever decide that you’re tired of chafing in cotton and want to join the civilized world. And four extra ties,” he adds.
While Victor is counting off items on one hand, he’s weaving the other through Yuuri’s. When Victor finishes ticking off items Yuuri takes that hand and pins it by Victor’s side. He leans down.
“Victor, did you pack anything for yourself?”
His face is close. Victor reaches up and brushes his nose against Yuuri’s, a thrill going through him when he sees Yuuri close his eyes for it.
“It’s just easier to remember your things,” he explains.
Yuuri looks like he wants to say something to this, but then Victor catches his ankle with his foot and Yuuri collapses on top of Victor, sending a small pile of charging cables tumbling to the floor.
“Oops,” he says with a smile as Yuuri harrumphs. Victor untangles the fingers on one hand and reaches around to hold Yuuri to him. He slides one leg under Yuuri’s, upsetting a pile of tightly-rolled cotton socks.
Neither of them pretends to care.
“Victor, what are you doing?” Yuuri says a little breathlessly.
“Distracting you,” Victor teases, a line from months ago coming back to him, “Is it working?”
Yuuri huffs. “How do we always end up like this?”
“No idea,” Victor continues his attempts to wriggle underneath Yuuri, which sets Yuuri into fits of laughter as he halfheartedly tries to fight it.
Victor just wants to live under the weight of Yuuri for the rest of his life. He wants it so much.
“Victor?” Yuuri asks, and Victor realizes he’s gone still.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, turning his face into Yuuri’s shoulder.
“I just - I want to go home with you. When it’s over,” he speaks into Yuuri’s dress shirt.
“Was there somewhere else you were supposed to go?” Yuuri lifts himself up a bit, to try to see Victor’s face. Victor tugs him back down without answering. He can’t articulate it yet. It’s too much.
Yuuri lets Victor hold him like that for a long time, until Victor’s legs have gone numb and Makka arrives to beg for a walk. They go together.
