(inspired by @jumpforjo uwu)
“I don’t think this is going to work,” Yuuri whispers, trying and failing to stifle a giggle as he looks at the not-at-all suspicious bulge in Viktor’s coat. “Maybe we should just give up and try somewhere else…”
“Nonsense.” Viktor puffs out his cheeks and blows out a breath, eyes narrowing in that determined way of his that Yuuri loves so much. It’s the same face he makes while practicing, endlessly hard on himself to drive to perfection, or when he’s watching Yuuri with a critical eye, finding something to improve. In this context, though, it’s… well. “I didn’t win five world championships and the Olympics to ever give up.”
“Vitya,” Yuuri groans, but Viktor starts walking, his empty sleeves swinging comically at his sides (his gloves are pinned to the wrist cuffs, as if that adds realism) as he leans back and hefts the lump at his belly along the way. There’s nothing Yuuri can do but grab the suitcases and hurry after him.
By the time he catches up, Viktor is already at the front desk, frowning at the clerk as she asks for his ID. “Yuuri,” he says. “Yuuri, hand this woman my passport, please. I don’t remember where it is.”
Yuuri nearly dies, because it’s in the pocket of Viktor’s coat, but he just sighs and reaches in, and–
“Rrooowf,” Makkachin complains, wriggling in Viktor’s arms under the coat, as soon as Yuuri’s hand brushes her head. Viktor and Yuuri lock eyes, panicked, for half a second, and then Viktor turns to the clerk again.
“I,” he announces, “have a stomach condition. It makes my body make strange–”
“Rwoomph!”
“–noises, as you can tell–”
“It’s true,” Yuuri blurts out, hands fluttering at his sides in an effort to avoid clutching his head in consternation, panic, and despair. The clerk is going to call the police on them and then eat them alive, Makkachin included, and that’ll be a horrible way to die! “I–he’s in assisted living and I’m his nurse–”
“Sirs,” the clerk interrupts, bemused, and Yuuri’s life flashes before his eyes. Oh, god, they never even got to get married and they’re about to die in a stupid hotel in stupid America! “Uh, you know, we are pet-friendly…”
Viktor brightens instantly with a smile that diffuses all Yuuri’s anxieties (well, in combination with the words pet-friendly), opening his coat and setting Makkachin down with an oof. She immediately sits down on Yuuri’s feet and licks his hand. “Oh, you are? The website didn’t say so, and we were afraid we made a mistake in booking–”
“…for an additional seventy-five dollar per night fee,” the clerk adds.
Viktor’s face darkens.
He sniffs, daintily fishes his wallet out of his coat pocket, and shakes his head. “So this,” he mutters in Russian, “is why the motherland rejected capitalism. I understand now.”
(Yuuri makes him explain to the clerk why he’s overcome by a sudden coughing fit.)
rimi i’m sick and dying, do you have any fluff?? :( thank u
Published
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