The shift in his expression was immediate. Victor's eyes widened and formed into a broad grin before he tugged Yuri closer, pressing himself against Yuri's warmth as close as he possibly could. "Your Victor," he breathed softly, then seemed to remember something. "In Russia, we have shortened names that we give to loved ones. Mine is Vitya. Feel free to call me that whenever you'd like, Yuri." His eyes closed again, and Victor snuggled closer.
He looked quite happy, beaming that heart shaped smile and not seeming to let it down at all. Yuri was his. His. And he wanted to sleep in his bed. It was a miracle, in and of itself, and Victor really did wonder what could have happened if he'd approached Yuri differently the first time.