Yuri Plisetsky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yuri_plisetsky) wrote2017-03-21 08:09 pm
yuri_plisetsky) wrote2017-03-21 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
Moscow: Pirozh-katsu!...and the Rostelecom Cup Free Skate (1.09)
To say that Yuri had been able to go back into his room and go to sleep after leaving Milliways was an accurate but misleading statement. He had indeed gone back into his room, spent ten minutes staring out the window at the Moscow lights as he iced his aching hip with the bag of fresh ice he'd grabbed at the bar, half-assed some stretches, taken a shower in water turned up as hot as he could stand it, pulled the blackout curtains over the windows, checked his phone alarms, and flopped into bed. Between the day's physical (and mental, and emotional) exertions, the scalding shower, and the several cups of mint tea he'd consumed, it was only a few minutes before his eyes closed. But the sleep that came over him was less like sleep and more like simply not-being-awake: it was a heavy, overwhelming sort of blankness that wasn't particularly restful or refreshing.
When his alarm goes off, shrill and disorienting in the darkened hotel room, it takes a moment for him to resurface from the blankness into a groggy half-awareness as he paws at his phone to shut off the noise. As consciousness trickles in, it brings with it a steady flow of memories of everything that had happened the night before -- Viktor, Yakov, Katsudon, the hotel, the bar, the door -- and Yuri grinds his teeth hard enough to hurt as he rolls over and pounds the lumpy hotel mattress twice with his fist.
Idiot. You idiot. Could you have fucked things up any more than they already were?
On any other day, he'd pull the covers back over his head and give himself five more minutes to wallow in his own misery before hauling himself out of bed. But Lilia is expecting him at her door in fifteen minutes, with all of his gear and a polite good morning for her. He can't sit around and sulk. Besides, there's still an asshole Canadian who needs taking down a peg or two or twelve -- and considering how badly he'd screwed up yesterday (on and off the ice) he can't afford to think about anything else.
When his alarm goes off, shrill and disorienting in the darkened hotel room, it takes a moment for him to resurface from the blankness into a groggy half-awareness as he paws at his phone to shut off the noise. As consciousness trickles in, it brings with it a steady flow of memories of everything that had happened the night before -- Viktor, Yakov, Katsudon, the hotel, the bar, the door -- and Yuri grinds his teeth hard enough to hurt as he rolls over and pounds the lumpy hotel mattress twice with his fist.
Idiot. You idiot. Could you have fucked things up any more than they already were?
On any other day, he'd pull the covers back over his head and give himself five more minutes to wallow in his own misery before hauling himself out of bed. But Lilia is expecting him at her door in fifteen minutes, with all of his gear and a polite good morning for her. He can't sit around and sulk. Besides, there's still an asshole Canadian who needs taking down a peg or two or twelve -- and considering how badly he'd screwed up yesterday (on and off the ice) he can't afford to think about anything else.
no subject
Emile is the first to manage to put thoughts into words. 'What...what was that all about?'
'Maudite marde,' JJ grumbles, though he sounds more than a bit shaken. 'Katsuki's a train wreck.'
'He looked so lost,' Sara says, her own voice wistful and pained.
Draped over Emile's arm, her brother moans quietly. 'He hugged me....'
To everyone's surprise, even Seung-gil is shocked into speech. 'I don't understand.'
It's left to Yuri to take two steps forward and turn on his heel, sweeping them all with a scathing glare. 'All of you can go to hell,' he declares with finality, and then stalks off on his interrupted journey to the men's locker room.
He'd told himself last night that if he had any more bright ideas about helping someone else, he'd keep them to himself. It's a good thing that the idea starting to take shape in his head isn't a very bright one, possibly not even the right one. He'll have to give Yakov the slip for it. He can't get Mila to cover for him while he does. It probably won't even be worth it.
But bad ideas have never stopped him before.