starlogs | 'cause this is what a love song sounds like

( Viktor convinces himself to untangle himself from where he lies curled around Yuuri. Makkachin is sleeping on his lover's far side, keeping Yuuri surrounded and warm, even overwarm, but it's a comforting measure. For all three of them.

He leans his head in, pressing a kiss to the side of Yuuri's head, rubbing at his upper arm with one hand. Viktor leans in to talk near his ear, a mumbling murmur of words: I'm going to make coffee, or what came closest from the stores onboard. He's reluctant but determined, tucking the blankets around Yuuri again even as he pauses and leans over, stroking over Makkachin's head. His dog hadn't been feeling too pleased with yesterday's events either. The lack of explanations for how or why it'd happened, or why systems remained down, aren't easy to live with. He doesn't accept them; he lives with and through them.

Which is why he'll put on the kettle for the water; it's what he has in mind as he steps into the small bathroom, closing the door as he makes use of the facilities. Washing his hands and his face after, just to brace himself against the sink, examining his face critically in the mirror. The parts of yesterday he'd been hoping to frame in words and skating are things that keep slipping away from him. Victor finds it bothersome; toweling his face dry, he opens the door, clearing off the desk they use as a table and securing everything more firmly in place as he puts what little they'd taken out last night away. Nothing that could have been dangerous, if the gravity went. The only unknown had been Makkachin's water; he'd accepted that risk.

Viktor measures out the grinds into the not-quite French press, setting it to the side as the water boils. Once the kettle starts to sing, he turns off the heat, glad the elements here cool so quickly; the mugs he pulled down both have complete lids, fancier travel mugs, just in case. He cracks eggs, adding in milk as he stirs them together in a measuring glass. He adds salt and pepper with a thoughtful hum, stirring again with the fork before setting it all aside.

Makkachin lifts his head, settling it again across Yuuri's hip to watch Viktor as he moves around the kitchen. He gives a lazy thump of his tail as he yawns, fairly sure he'll be fed before too much longer, and enjoying his cuddling too much to get up and move around yet.

He pulls out the rye bread, slicing it thick for himself, less so for Yuuri, setting it to the side for toasting after he manages the eggs. Cheese comes out of the latched cupboard; parmesan, or again, something close enough that he forgets the proper name and thinks of it as he likes. It's methodical, and it's meditative; it's been an adjustment, cooking like this, but he's gone from a determined attempt to master it to a genuine enjoying of being able to learn, dish by dish, what he can manage in a kitchen with the time to try.

Makkachin finally rouses himself once Viktor's pulling the spinach and eggs off the heat, setting the pan to the side and pulling down dishes for serving. Part of him pauses, wondering at if the gravity shuts down again. It's not a critical need system, unlike air and environmental controls; but he shrugs it off. If it does, it does. They'll handle it, all of them, together. He hears Makkachin as the older dog jumps off the bed with a huff and clattering of nails against hard floor. Victor pulls out rice and chicken from the fridge, deciding that Makkachin deserves a morning treat as much as Yuuri does; Makkachin is all too happy to obliged, scarfing down on the small shredded pieces of chicken over the rice. Viktor pats his dog's shoulders, shaking his head and tsking. )

Slow down, you silly thing.

( Makkachin wags his tail, absolutely not listening. He finds he still doesn't mind, pressing the coffee and pouring it into the mugs. He has to toss the bread down into the egg pan after dishing the eggs up onto the plates; once the pan's back on the heat, he cranks it up, barely toasting the rye. It's when he has both set and served on the desk-table, turning back to nab Yuuri's mug, that he heads for his sleeping beauty where he lounges in bed. He plants a knee on the bed to lean in, carding his hand through Yuuri's messy thatch of glorious, dark hair. )

Breakfast's served, sleepyhead. Here. The coffee's still hot.

( Viktor hasn't changed out of his sleep clothes; the loose shirt and the loose pants hanging from his hips in straight lines. He's pulled on a pastel striped sweater for warmth, but beyond that, he almost envies the cozy warmth he imagines Yuuri is still wrapped up in. Viktor's head tips forward, his bangs falling away from his face as he smiles down at Yuuri, indescribably fond. The coffee in its fancy travel mug stays offered like a lure; he loves this man, and the moments like these, even in the midst of the blossoming chaos of their new lives. )

[Though Makkachin's enthusiastic jump off the bed had woken Yuuri up, he'd opted to stay burrowed into the covers still half asleep, listening to Viktor move about the kitchenette busily. When Viktor finally returns to the bedside to rouse him, Yuuri slowly, reluctantly opens his eyes. Darkness greets him--or what would be considered dark to the norm. The emergency lights are still dim, barely providing adequate lighting in the bunk, and it's only when he checks the wrist communicator on the bedside table that Yuuri believes it's "morning".]

Did you really make breakfast like this? You can barely see anything. [His voice is still rough with sleep as he pats around his pillow for the glasses he's placed somewhere yesterday night. Finally, his fingers close around the metal frame and Yuuri slides it onto his nose before taking the coffee cup gratefully.

Even in the terrible, flickering light, Yuuri finds Viktor a welcome sight. The effects of yesterday's panic attack have worn off for the most part, though some of his uneasiness lingers at the back of his mind, and Yuuri knows it could have been much worse if Viktor hadn't been so quick to reach him even in the complete darkness. Him and Eichi--they'd both helped yesterday, and Yuuri knows now that he has a lot to be grateful for out here in the unfamiliar, vast space.]

I work with what's on hand.

( He says mildly, watching Yuuri pat around for his glasses. He loves the little moments like these. There's something ridiculously endearing in watching his sleeping prince turn into his ruffle-haired, bleary eyed, glasses wearing prince. That or Viktor's bias is leaning toward prince metaphors the last few months.

Cup handed off, he moves back and off the bed, "helpfully" twitching the blankets back and "liberating" Yuuri from the comforter and sheets. )

Come, while the food's still hot.

( He holds out a hand, flashing Yuuri a winning grin; he probably has too much energy, but it's a different sort of thought percolating in the back of Viktor's mind. Words he wants to say, because the universe is never going to give him a good or proper moment, and while this is in so many way, rushing what might otherwise take years of deciding one way or another...

It's important to him. Important to claim the moments now, and see about empowering Yuuri's lucky rings with something else on top of that luck, maybe. Just maybe. )

[The answering squint that Viktor gets says it all: why are you so chipper when it's still so early? He'll put his hand in Viktor's with a hopelessly fond smile all the same, careful not to let the coffee spill as he tries to maneuver his way out of the bed.]

What did you make? [Yuuri tilts his face up and sniffs curiously; he can smell the food, but he can't be sure what it is yet.]

Eggs with spinach and something like parmesan. There's toast, too.

( Unbuttered, but that's Viktor's preference. He keeps hold of Yuuri's hand once he's standing, leading him over to the desk and pulling out the chair. They're eating at once corner instead of across from each other; it's closer, more intimate, but also easier to move if they must. Viktor doesn't want to be weighed down by anything other than choice. )

[The coffee starts kicking in as they eat, and Yuuri smiles as Makkachin bumps against his leg with a soft whuff. He looks much more awake when he leans down to ruffle the poodle's fur gently.]

Why didn't you sleep in? [Yuuri sets the fork down on the plate, eyeing Viktor carefully.] You must've been exhausted yesterday after all the running around you did when the power went out. [A pause, then musingly--] Can it still be called running around when you're floating in the air?

Floating around? Coasting? Maybe cruising?

( he waves this off as he sets down his own fork, plate cleared. who knows what the proper term is? anything they agree on is good enough. )

I felt restless. I got up to be productive instead, even if it cut down on cuddle time.

( even in this light, his mock pout is fairly evident, with how close they're sitting. he smiles after, moving to pick up his plate. )

Done?

Done. [With one last affectionate pat to Makkachin's head, Yuuri collects his utensils and plate, then stands.]

I understand the feeling. [Yuuri tilts his head back to squint at the emergency lights.] It's really strange seeing the ship lit up like this. Do you think they'll get it fixed soon?

[He can't imagine the crew and the rest of the civilians on board would want to deal with poor lighting like this for too long.]

( heading for the sink, he waits for Yuuri and his dishes to set them collectively to the side. Washing will happen all at once or not at all; it's his way of thinking ahead should gravity cut out again.

Minimize the mess. And... )

I imagine it's what they've been working on since getting life support and gravity back on. Whatever else the crew may be or may know, they can't enjoy hurtling through space with no control anymore than we do.

( he'll set both their plates and utensils into the sink, reaching out to hook Yuuri into a hug. )

This ship's built to make sure her passengers survive. Everyone has said the same thing when I've talked with them. The power situation will be resolved.

Edited (Fixed) 2017-02-28 21:11 (UTC)

Guess so. [Leaning into the hug and resting his chin on Viktor's shoulder, Yuuri sighs.]

It's just unnerving to sit here and wait for things to get fixed. Even if it might not take that long.

[It's ridiculous, the restless need to do something, when he has no experience with this level of technology in the first place. No experience with space, either. All he wants is something to distract him from the wait--waiting just leaves more time for the doubts and uncertainties to creep in.]

( They both want to be proactive; Viktor handles himself in the ways he can, and it's in trying to talk with the others and piece together their situation that he still feels in control. It's hard, in this world so far outside of their norms. Adjusting to it is a constant struggle.

He keeps his arms around Yuuri, letting his eyes close for a moment. If he could protect him from the harshness of their lives here, he would. But he knows Yuuri can handle it; handle as much as any of them need to. He's never been a weak person. He hasn't suddenly become weak now. )

I know.

( He leans back, one hand rubbing at Yuuri's back as he peers into his lover's face. Slips one hand around to run over Yuuri's shoulder, down to his elbow. )

These are the things we're not going to know everything about. There's no way. The lives we're building here are different than anything I expected. We can focus on learning what works with our strength, yes?

( both his hands are on Yuuri's upper arms, now at his elbows. his heart feels too big for his chest, and he smiles, wanting to crush Yuuri against his chest once again. instead, he starts to go down into a kneeling position, hand sliding along Yuuri's forearms until he's left holding his lover's hands. )

We can focus on what's most important to us still. Yuuri... There are so many ways I've imagined a life with you, and the impossibility of a life without you. Here in space or wherever else we find ourselves, will you stay with me?

( he studies his lover's face, smiling, heart beating faster than it should, blue eyes lost in the shadows of their room. there are no extraneous dramatics here. there is no performance; there is no crowd. there is no church, no rink, no sanctuary aside from the closed circle of their arms and their bodies. there is the dog, sitting to their left, and there is the stretch of blank space stretching ever onward outside their window, hidden behind curtains that disguise that vast emptiness. here in their room, surrounded by what they've made for themselves in the last month and a half, almost two months. their room. not just his: theirs. )

Yuuri Katsuki, will you marry me?

[It's frighteningly easy to stay within the circle of Viktor's arms and simply drawing what warmth and sense of belonging he needs while giving the same in return. He's never let anyone in so far before, and though the thought sometimes scares him, Yuuri also knows that without Viktor, he never would've really seen the love that had surrounded him all his life. These are the thoughts that trickle through his mind as Viktor continues to murmur to him.]

I thought that's what we were already trying to do? [It's a half-hearted quip, more of a sign that he's trying to adjust to the changing in their lives to the best of his ability. Then, Viktor's holding his hands and kneeling, and Yuuri's thoughts abruptly screech to a halt.] V-Viktor....

[The question had been dropped so suddenly, Yuuri had wondered for a moment if he'd heard wrong. But it's difficult to misinterpret Viktor's intent when he's still on his knees waiting for an answer. Yuuri realizes something then: after the miscommunication the first time around, is it really a surprise that Viktor would choose to be as straightforward as possible?

The beginnings of a shaky, warm smile already forming on his lips, Yuuri tugs Viktor up onto his feet again. He's trembling, blush spreading to his ears--though the darkness helps him hide that little detail--when he replies softly.] Yes.

( Viktor realises he hadn't been holding his breath. It's a small detail, but it's a deeper certainty, the belief that they probably hadn't needed the words in order to be bound together as tightly as they are. It's a formality. A formality he appreciates, even if he has no rings to offer here; even if all he has is the intent to keep working hard in a situation he's keeping up with through determination rather than talent.

He moves back up to his feet at Yuuri's tug, bringing their hands up as he does. Viktor's lips find Yuuri's right hand, kissing the ring that he'd slid on there as a good luck charm a few months earlier. If he can do nothing more than empower that charm for Yuuri, then he hopes to do so every day of his life here on this crazy ride they call their life. )

Yuuri...

( he had no need or desire to hold back after that, letting his happiness bubble up and overflow, letting go of both hands so abruptly because he's throwing himself forward and crushing Yuuri in another hug. )

You've made me the happiest man in the universe!

( Think Big. they're not just on one planet now! Viktor nuzzles his face into the crook of Yuuri's neck, just wanting to hold on to him and this moment and that certainty for as long as he can. it's such a warmth he doesn't know how to really let it go.

even if everything else is falling to pieces around them, little by little, this much, this piece of peace, is theirs. )

[Smiling helplessly, Yuuri melts into that embrace, shivering just so as Viktor's hair tickles at his neck. He doesn't know how long they stand there, wrapped around each other like that, but Yuuri takes his time in drawing back slightly. With a gentle tug, Yuuri brings Viktor's right hand to his lips to kiss Viktor's ring in turn--an exchange of luck and belief that connects them.

Without letting go of Viktor's hand, which he clasps between his own, Yuuri studies his face in the room's dim lighting.]

Not that I'm complaining, but... why did you decide to ask now?

( Viktor leans in again, resting his forehead against Yuuri's. In this dim lighting, it puts him into sharper contrast; leaves enough room for them both to breathe without adding in a distance Viktor doesn't want right now. His fingers curl around Yuuri's hands, warmth radiating up his arm from where those tender lips pressed down over his ring. Empowering what they both can give to each other, in that quiet space, in that love he doesn't doubt. a bond that goes beyond it, even, so deep as to be unshakeable even if the details are left murky time to time.

he smiles, eyes closing as he breathes out in a soft huff of amusement. the best laid plans of both god and man... )

I was going to ask yesterday. Things got a little off track.

( He's a big romantic sap, even if most would never have guessed, once upon a dream. )

You were going to ask on Valentine's Day.

[A hint of amusement mixed with fondness laces his words now, and he chuckles softly. That does sound like something Viktor would do, now that he thinks about it.]

Were you going to wait until after the exhibition? [Prepping for a performance, even one that wouldn't be scored and judged, would've been hectic and leave no time for a proposal--at least, he that's what he assumes.]

Mm... Did I ever play my exhibition music for you?

( he knows he hasn't, at least not for the new routine he had been planning to skate. it's also his answer, on several levels: not quite after and of course I was going to ask then.

He figures Chris would have excused the re-appropriation of his birthday. )

[That's not...an answer. Yuuri narrows his eyes, mentally replaying Viktor's words and searching for what he might've missed the first time.

There's a suspicion growing in his mind now.]

No... you didn't. [He says slowly, almost warily.] What was it?

Oh, "Death of a Bachelor." I should really play it for you.

( For a man who could choose to be subtle, Viktor just often chooses to be anything but. )

[Yuuri chokes. That...is definitely not subtle.] There's actually a song by that name?

[Speaking of not subtle though...Yuuri stiffens when something occurs to him.]

Wait...you weren't...going to do something during this song, were you?

( Ahahaha... he laughs, rubbing at the back of his head. )

During it? I was planning on skating.

( AFTER............ THOUGH..................................... )

'cause this is what a love song sounds like

2/15 | yuuri & the morning after

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject