The day is too hot. The world a little too hazy. The teacher’s book slams on the desk so hard Yuuri swears the floor rattles. Something jerks with him to the land of the awake. A heavy hammering in his chest that makes him leap back from everyone. From his friend’s touch on his arm as he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.
The first time Yuuri hears the words “anxiety disorder” he can just see over the doctor’s desk. His mother’s fingers tug through his hair grounding him as the doctor explains what the rest of his life would be like. He rambled off pill names, his hand a blur on a prescription pad. Yuuri would remember his mother’s perfume as he pressed his face into the side of her dress. The tick of a clock on the wall. And the way the cool plastic of a pill bottle felt in his hand.
Somewhere in the fog of upper levels he finds a happy medium. A way to fight out the fear that grips his throat before every performance. Sometimes he wins, and he goes home with medals to decorate his home with. Sometimes it wins, and the car ride home is silent while he replays every mistake. Every fall.
Then Victor is there.
Then Victor is there in the only way Victor can be there. Loud, bumbling, tripping over too long limbs into his life. Weaving himself into Yuuri until they’re so connected Yuuri can’t imagine tearing him apart. But Victor meets his anxiety in the dark of a parking lot. Watches snot roll down his upper lip as he screams out every thought locked in his head. Until the blood stops roaring in his ears.
Victor is still there.
Victor is there when Yuuri is curled on the edge of their bed rocking and tugging at his own hair. Victor is there when Yuuri lashes back at a touch with a strangled cry. Victor stays there as he learns about this side of Yuuri. As he grows to understand it and love it as much as he loves all sides.
Because Victor loves him.
Shows it in the way he trades a body’s warmth for a mug’s. With the way he makes a bath at the perfect temperature, his shockingly brassy voice bouncing beautiful off the walls. When after it’s all said and done he’s in bed waiting for him. With that infamous smile, love struck gaze, and a soft…