11 and 12 for viktuuri!
11. things you said when you were drunk
“Oh,” Yuuri Katsuki suddenly says. It’s jarring to hear him speak so clearly, when just a few minutes ago it seemed like he’d given up on English for the evening. “Oh no.”
Victor looks down at him. Or tries to. He’s got his hands full making sure Yuuri doesn’t slide to the hotel carpet. Or drift into a wall. It’s like trying to walk with a fistful of water.
And yet Yuuri doesn’t so much turn to face Victor as twirl. With a flourish.
“Was supposed to make a good impression,” he says, mournful. “I had a plan.”
“Katsuki,” he coaxes. Then, when that gets no response, “Yuuri. I need you to walk.”
Yuuri squints like he’s confused, like he’s lost the thread of their long, unexpectedly precarious journey from the banquet to his hotel room. Then carefully, as if he might miss the target, he reaches out with one finger and taps the tip of Victor’s nose.
“You gotta cute nose,” he says.
Victor blinks. Then swallows hard. “They usually Photoshop it,” he blurts out.
The set of Yuuri’s mouth goes solemn. “They should be fired.”
Victor only has time to huff out a laugh before he has to keep Yuuri from tripping over his own feet. It’s a near thing, too. He’s still not exactly sure what he was going to say.
12. things you said when you thought i was asleep
Victor wakes up, as usual, with Yuuri’s face fully buried in his neck. How much it actually helps with the encroaching sunlight is debatable. But it’s cute, which is the important thing.
“Morning.” He scratches at the nape of Yuuri’s neck. “Thank you for what, by the way?”
Usually, Victor can look forward to at least five minutes of soft, grumpy little protests muttered into his chest. But Yuuri stills and yanks back, blinking himself awake.
“What,” he says.
“You were saying something last night?” Victor draws circles in Yuuri’s arm with his thumb, not sure what the problem is except that there, apparently, is one. “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep before–”
Ah, he realizes, as Yuuri turns his head into the pillow and attempts to sink into the earth. It doesn’t take him long to catch on. It’s roughly the third time this month.
“Yuuuuri,” he sighs, resting his chin between his fiancé’s shoulderblades. “You know it won’t kill you to say cute things to my face.”
“I’m trying,” Yuuri says. Or, that’s what it sounds like through the fabric.
Victor hums. He’s capable of patience. He can wait.