"Wait a minute," he says unexpectedly. "You're not Yuuri."
"Grand observation, Victor." Chris blinks one eye open on the other side of the bed. The teasing smirk that crosses his features is sickening this early in the morning. "But, I can be Yuuri if you want me to."
Victor's stomach sours.
"Where's Yuuri? Why are you in my bed?"
He tries to keep the panic and unease from his voice, but fails.
He can't remember anything after nine last night. He remembers going out with Yuuri and the others, doing shots, then someone handed him a full bottle of tequila, and everything after that turns into a multifaceted blur.
But he should have ended the night by walking back with Yuuri to their joined rooms.
He jolts up right, running a hand down his body, and being relieved to find he's still wearing his clothes. Actually, it's a bit shocking to be wearing his clothes. Normally drunk equates naked for Victor.
Chris stretches and sits up too, pulling victor from his thoughts and reminding him that he needs answers.
"Answer me, Giacometti. Where is my..." he hesitates a moment. He almost said 'my Yuuri,' but that's not quite a true wording, not yet. And if Victor made a fool of himself last night, then it probably never will be. "Where is Yuuri, and why are you in my bed?"
Chris flicks him on cheek with his index finger, a familiar gesture from their friendship, but not one that's comforting given the current circumstances.
"Relax, old man. Your beloved skater is probably at breakfast, and I'm not in your bed."
That startles Victor into taking in his surroundings.
The hotel room is a cookie-cutter suite, just like all the skaters and coaches are staying in, but the clothes by the bed aren't Victor's, and neither is the luggage spread around the room, it's all....
"Yuuri's." His voice goes soft. "We're in Yuuri's room." He looks at Chris again, still confused, but less panicked. "Why?"
"You really outdid yourself last night, Nikiforov. Do you remember anything?" Chris outright laughs. His real laugh, and not the sultry one he reserves for flirting with the public. "I imagine we're in Yuuri's bed, because he had to wrangle us both out of the bar last night. He brought us here because I couldn't walk on my own, and you wouldn't let go of him long enough for him to help me to my room."
"Thank god." Victor breathes a sigh of relief, then groans and presses his hands to his throbbing temples. "I thought we–
"As if." Chris scoffs, knowing exactly what Victor was about to say, and shoves him nearly off the bed. "I have better taste. Besides–
Any further teasing is interrupted by the door to the room swinging open with a bang, drawing both of their attention.
It reveals none other than Yuuri on the other side of it, wincing, and holding multiple paper bags of what seems–if the smell is any indication– to be food.
Victor is off the bed in an instant, headache aside, and reaching to relieve Yuuri of his burdens.
Yuuri let's him take two of the bags, his face relaxing. "Oh good. You two are awake."
Chris comes up and grabs one of the bags himself, leaning as close as he can to Yuuri's cheek in the process and adopting one of his sensual expressions. "Is it okay if I take this back to my own room, Yuuri. I hate to abandon a morning with you, but I've got things I need to do today."
"I'm sure that's fine, Chris. Yuuri and I prefer to have breakfast alone with each other." Victor narrows his eyes at the proximity, hating to see Yuuri teased by anyone but himself, and he lets his irritation come out. "Right, Yuuri?"
Yuuri pulls back, looking at Victor with wide eyes. "Y-yeah."
Victor is quick to usher Chris out the door, sitting the food down on one of the hotel tables and turning his attention back to Yuuri.
"About last night," he starts, wishing again that he could remember his full behavior, and knowing himself well enough to know it wasn't good. "I'm sorry if I did anything out of line."
Yuuri blushes slightly, but shakes his head. "It's fine. You were....you were hard to deal with but you didn't try to do anything, Victor."
"Well," Victor squares his shoulders, both relieved and disappointed that he didn't at least try to kiss, Yuuri. "I'm still sorry you had to take care of me. It's no way for a coach to be, having to be taken care of by his student."
"Uh...that's okay." Yuuri's blush deepens a bit, and he looks away from Victor. "Don't be sorry."
"No, no. I should definitely apologize–
Victor begins, earnestly wanting to repair his reputation with Yuuri. Every time he gets closer to the beautiful man in front of him, he feels like me messes something up.
"Victor. I said don't be sorry." Yuuri cuts him off though, looking back at him with a determined expression, and his voice more heated than Victor has ever heard. "I...I like taking care of you....I like it a lot."
"Oh."
It's Victor's turn to blush.
