idk whether this counts for the meme, but if it does, could you do viktor pov of yuuri's paperclip suitcase breakdown from counting seconds through the night!
!!!!! This super-counts and I love it.
(timestamp meme! and the original fic is here.)
Around hour three and a half, Yuuri’s ‘test-pull’ breaks the zipper clean off the suitcase. Oh, Victor thinks, watching Yuuri’s face. I thought we were joking.
“Yuuri.” He tries to laugh. It’s a startled, unconvincing sound. “I think we need to call time-of-death. You can borrow one of mine.“
“I’m leaving my parents enough garbage,” Yuuri says. It doesn’t quite follow. It’s also, he realizes with a start, the most complete reply he’s gotten out of Yuuri in at least an hour.
Oh, he thinks. He was never joking.
(The progression is becoming familiar, if not always recognizable from the start.)
Yuuri would remind him that it sneaks up on him, too. He doesn’t even need to - it shows on his face, bit by bit, as he folds himself into the couch and picks at the lunch Victor brought him. Something halfway between embarrassment and resignation.
”What, um.” He stops, his forehead creasing like he’s putting the words in order. “What time is it?”
”Two,” Victor says. Yuuri lets out a little hiss of a laugh between his teeth.
What do you want me to do next time, Victor had asked him, that night in Beijing.
Do? Yuuri, nestled under his chin, had tilted his head to look up. Well, I, he’d said. Hadn’t thought about it? Even then, just a few months into knowing Yuuri, that sounded a lot like ‘I have thought about it extensively and I will carry that to my grave.’
Reading Yuuri has become a lifelong field of study, after all. It’s like he’s fourteen again, knowing what a program should be but lacking that last piece to close the gap.
“You’ll tell me if this is too much,” he asks.
You’ll tell me if I’m asking too much, he’d really like to ask.