This is a headcanon btw :3 Yuuri falls asleep on the ride back from practice so Viktor carries him to bed (it's already late) and Yuuri, semi awake, pulls Viktor down into the sheets and murmurs something like 'stay' or 'sleep'. I really like this one sooooo thxxxx
Something is stepping.
There’s the soft noise of a rubber sole against concrete and warmth, so much warmth, warmth that Yuuri buries his face in and wraps his arms around and embraces in every way that one could possibly embrace it—he keeps his eyes shut and wonders how much of this is a dream as he’s carried—carried?—upwards.
“Long day today, hmm?” Victor’s voice says, far away.
Yuuri can’t reply. The voice is too far. Instead, he stays where he is, and tries to focus in on the strong arms supporting him, one underneath his legs and the other underneath his back. He has no doubt that they’ll continue to carry him, no fear of falling. The voice continues to speak but is lowered to a continuous murmur, a sound that melts into the background.
His eyelids are heavier than he could’ve possibly imagined and his body light as he’s jostled slightly in Victor’s arms. Then, suddenly, he’s being lowered, placed against something plush and light that gives way when his back hits it. Instantly, though, the warmth is gone, except for on the length of his fingers, which are wrapped up in fabric. Silently, Yuuri pulls on it.
“Stay,” he mumbles.
For a second, nothing happens.
He’s freezing compared to how warm he’d been just a second ago. His entire body shifts uncomfortably on top of the bedsheets but his fingers don’t let go of whatever they’re holding for a single instant. His teeth run across his lower lip and he sighs, tilting his head to the right. “Stay,” he begs again, hoping Victor hears him.
For another second, nothing.
And then the bed sinks, and then the hearth has returned by his side. Yuuri buries himself in it, hands still weakly clenching Victor’s shirt. He buries his face in the fabric, too, and wraps himself around it, a leg snaking between Victor’s and his chest moving so that it’s flush against his own.
Then, Victor’s arms move around him, holding him closer.
“Okay,” he says simply, so quiet Yuuri wonders if he imagined it. “Goodnight, Yuuri.” There’s a delicate touch on his hair, but Yuuri can’t quite figure out what it is.