A Heart Beats At Night

Chapter 29

            "I'll stay here unless Yura doesn't want me to." Despite Otabek's level tone, Viktor heard the pace of his heart pick up for an instant, betraying the boy's nerves.

They sat around the kitchen table. Yuri was staring down at the wood, tracing the scars and whorls with a fingertip as if the secrets of the universe were trapped within its surface. Otabek's eyes flicked between Viktor and Yuri, dark with worry.

Viktor nodded.

"Yuri?" He would have preferred to talk to Yuri alone, still wasn't quite sure how the dynamic had shifted under his feet when their household had become three instead of two, but it was time for him to do more listening and less... organizing.

"It's okay, Beka," Yuri said quietly, without lifting his eyes. Otabek, however, seemed unconvinced – he seemed caught between motion and immobility until Yuri brushed a hand against his arm, a silent conversation passing between them in an instant in the private language that wasn't quite Yuri and wasn't quite Otabek, but was somehow completely Yuri-and-Otabek.

Viktor wasn't surprised to hear Otabek make his way to Yuri's room, instead of the basement, when he left the kitchen. He waited until the door closed, the bedroom's soundproofing giving them privacy even with their sensitive hearing.

"Yuri, I think I know what happened," said Viktor. Pure mental exhaustion kept the frustration and distress from leaking out, the same numbness that used to let him smile for the cameras, impress the judges with his passion and emotion. "Can you please tell me why?"

"I was angry," muttered Yuri. He worried at the side of his thumb, picking at the ragged nail.

"That was the night after you and Otabek... met in the city, yes?" Viktor sighed. Had he known the history between them, he could have handled that situation more delicately – or, more likely, he would have sent Otabek packing without a second thought. Yuri blinked slowly in acknowledgement, and Viktor dug deeper into his memory. The five or six weeks had passed like years, remodeling the landscape of their lives more effectively than any earthquake. "And you were unhappy when I invited Yuuri over for - to - dinner."

"I thought you were going to get yourself killed when you went out looking for slayers," Yuri retorted, running his fingers through his hair, winding the long strands into coils. "I was pissed off and fucking terrified, I wanted- I wanted to get back at you, and when I figured it out I hated the stupid questions he was asking because you liked him and he was just- it felt like he was using you, and then when Phichit showed up I didn't know what to do because you'd freak out, so I kept- kept lying, and now Yuuri's leaving, and you're supposed to be mad at me, someone finally made you happy and I ruined it-"

Yuri's voice rose, tangling and tripping over itself as he unconsciously gripped the back of his neck, and Viktor leaned across the table to touch his wrist gently.

"Take a minute. One thing at a time." Viktor tried to comb the sentences into some semblance of order, pulling on the first thread he found. "I'm upset that you lied to me, but I was the one who decided to- Chris explained it?" Yuri nodded. "He told me it was a bad idea, by the way. You didn't make me do that."

"You wouldn't have if I hadn't- if you didn't think... I tried to tell Yuuri it was my fault, so he'd know, I thought he wouldn't be mad at you then. But he's quitting. He's leaving."

"I'm going to be sixty-nine years old in three days, Yura. You're twenty," Viktor said. Guilt tasted bitter, he thought, like childhood memories of boiled cabbage. "You did the wrong thing, and I know you did try to tell me. I should have known better. You can't take full responsibility."