“I told you to turn right! You just passed the road, Yuuri! Why don’t you ever listen when I give directions.” Victor says, exasperated.
“You said to make the next right just as we were already passing the road, so I thought you meant the
next right!” Yuuri snaps back. “I’ll just turn here and circle back, it’s fine. And for the record, I always listen to your directions, it’s sort of my job isn’t it… coach?”
Victor just huffs and crosses his arms, staring out the window in silence. Yuuri turns and corrects his error, heading in the direction they just came from, and within a couple of minutes, he’s gotten them back on track. Neither of them says anything for a little while, but after maybe ten minutes of tension pass, Victor sighs and slowly reaches over to cover Yuuri’s hand where it’s resting on the shifter. Yuuri lets their fingers intertwine and gives Victor’s hand a gentle squeeze.
— — — —
“Oh I love this song!” Yuuri exclaims as he reaches over to turn the radio up and quietly sings along. Victor keeps his eyes on the book he’s reading (he gets bored easily on road trips if he’s not the one driving), but smiles to himself.
No matter what Yuuri may think of his own singing voice, Victor loves it when he sings. Or talks. Or does practically anything (except not listen when Victor tells him where to turn, ahem.) Yuuri’s soft, sweet voice has lured Victor to sleep many nights — sometimes he does it without even thinking; they’ll be curled up together in bed and Yuuri will just subconsciously start singing a lullaby Mama Hiroko used to sing to him when he was little.
After a couple minutes of listening while he reads, Victor’s eyelids become heavy and he starts to drift off, but suddenly something catches his attention. He blinks himself awake and looks over at Yuuri, trying to determine whether he really heard what he thinks he did. “Yuuri… did you… did you just sing ‘there’s a bathroom on the right?’”
Yuuri stops and glances over, giving Victor a look that’s a combination of surprise and skepticism. “Um, yeah? That’s the words. There’s a bathroom on the right. I don’t know why, but I learned not to question Americans and their musical lyrics. Some songs just never make any sense. Maybe it’s an analogy or something.”
Victor stares at him for a moment, knowing his eyes must be bugging out of his head, then cracks up laughing. He drops his book in his lap and doubles over, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. Peeking over at Yuuri through the tears that are now filling his eyes, he sees him just staring straight ahead, adorably pouting. After what feels like forever, Victor finally calms down enough to catch his breath, his chest and stomach tight and aching in the way only a good laugh can cause.
“I-I’m sorry, love. That… that was just so damn adorable, how are you so cute?” He manages to wheeze out.
Yuuri still doesn’t look at him. “I don’t see what was so damn funny and why you’re laughing at me. I didn’t write the song.”
“Yuuri… it’s ‘there’s a bad moon on the rise’, not ‘a bathroom on the right.’”
Yuuri finally glances over, confusion swirling in his beautiful eyes. “No, that’s not it. That doesn’t even make any sense! What the hell is a bad moon?”
“Oh and ‘a bathroom on the right’ makes more sense, now does it?” Victor raises an eyebrow.
“Of course it does! He’s giving directions to the bathroom, which is a lot more reasonable than telling someone there’s a bad moon on the rise. Again, I ask just what is a bad moon? What did the moon ever do wrong?” Yuuri makes a sharp gesture with his hand to drive home his point.
“Aren’t you the one who just said that song lyrics never make sense anyway?”
Yuuri just shakes his head and continues to mumble to himself. “Pfff, bad moon. Ridiculous.”
Victor just smiles and picks his book back up, trying to find where he left off. They continue driving in comfortable silence, Yuuri changing the radio station to one with a more recent playlist. Eventually, he begins to quietly sing to himself again.
After another ten minutes, however, Victor’s concentration on his book is broken once more. “Did you just say ‘bacon and eggs’ instead of ‘thank u, next’?”
— — — — —
Over an hour later, Victor is still lost in his book when he’s suddenly startled by Yuuri slamming on the brakes and swerving the car to the left, cursing out loud in Japanese (Victor has picked up on some of the more salacious words over the years, mostly from watching his husband play video games).
“Yuuri, what happened?!”
“Baka is going 20 kilometers below the speed limit! Seriously, where do people learn to drive?!”
Victor takes a deep breath and holds a hand against his chest trying to calm his racing heart. “Yuuri, please take it easy.”
“I am! It’s not my fault that other people don’t know how to drive!”
“Our child is in the car, at least think of her!”
Yuuri throws a quick glance at the rearview mirror. “Makka is sprawled out on the seat and fast asleep. She’s fine, Vitya.”
Victor just rolls his eyes and pouts. “Well, maybe you consider not giving me a heart attack then. How about my feelings and safety?”
Yuuri’s shoulders sag and his hands visibly loosen from their tight hold on the steering wheel. He reaches across the console and grabs Victor’s hand, bringing it up to his lips for a kiss, but still keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re right Vitya, I’m sorry. You know that sometimes I just get worked up and stressed, especially when there’s a lot of traffic.”
Victor’s frustration immediately melts away. “I know, my love. Would you rather me drive instead? I really don’t mind.”
“No, no. I’m fine, really. I want you to relax. We’ll be out of this mess soon anyway.” Yuuri bites his lip as he thinks for a moment. “But we can stop to grab something to eat if you’re getting hungry? It would be good to stretch our legs also.”
Victor gives his husband a wide, beaming smile. “That sounds like a very good idea. Let me check and see what restaurants are nearby.”
— — — — —
When they finally reach the hotel, Victor insists on taking care of the luggage (“you drove for six hours, zolotse. Let me do this”) and checking them in while Yuuri takes Makkachin for a quick walk around the property.
Once they settle into the suite, both of them collapse on the bed, Makkachin hopping up to lay at their feet. Yuuri rolls over and curls up against Victor’s side, so he wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.
“Thanks for doing all the driving today, love. I’ll drive home so you can rest.”
“Are you sure you’re not offering because you hate my driving?” Yuuri tilts his head up and gives Victor a doe-eyed innocent look.
“I don’t
hate your driving, Yuuri. I’m just a bad passenger… it’s really my own fault.” He ducks his head down to give Yuuri a kiss.
Yuuri hums against his mouth, smiling cheekily when the part. “Yeah, you really are. But so am I… we just both have issues with letting go of control sometimes.”
Victor nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s definitely true.” He thinks for a moment, then tightens his arms around his husband and rolls them so that Yuuri is on top, causing him to squeak in surprise. Victor gives him a devious smirk.
“But since you’re the one in such a ‘controlling’ mood today, why don’t you put it to good use tonight? Unless you’re tired of driving, that is.” Yuuri stares at him for a moment, mouth parted slightly, before narrowing his eyes and giving him a heated look.
“Hmm…no, I think I can handle it.” A wicked smile slowly spreads across his face. “Buckle up Vitya, tonight you’re going for another ride.”
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