#i said i liked to imagine that piece being how viktor sees yuuri

[arom-antix]

Happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend, trophy husband of Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov!

[omgkatsudonplease]

church by fall out boy for victuuri pls

Yuuri is quiet most of the way back to the spaceport.

They’d missed their crew’s hovercraft, so Viktor decides to take them in his own transport. The sleek royal vehicle cuts through traffic like a dream, screens all around the city blaring the news of the Armistice Ball attack and pointing fingers everywhere in a desperate bid to find the perpetrator. 

Viktor clutches the fragments of metal in the bag. He’ll give them to the guards to turn in to law enforcement later, but in the meantime he tries to figure out what he can from the metal. Sometimes, if he concentrates just right, he’s able to garner the emotions of the last person who had held the object. 

It’s not really helpful investigatively, but it makes him feel like he’s doing something, and that’s important, too.

Anger. Panic. Confusion. It could be from a victim, it could be from the perpetrator. Viktor examines the carvings on some of the scraps, tries to discern their make, their style. It’s nothing he’s ever seen before – but then he’s never made it a point in his career as Crown Prince to see a lot of bomb sites and pieces. 

The hovercraft reaches the launchpoint to the spaceport, where clusters of sleek hotels and budget pods lurk at the periphery of the launchpoint buildings. Most hovercraft must deposit their passengers here so they can embark on shuttles that will take them out to the spaceport, but the royal crafts can withstand the pressures of escape velocity just fine. They only have to get in line behind the commercial shuttles, one of which Yuuri’s crew may be on now – if they haven’t stayed behind for the Mandalan.

Would they have? They were separated back in the ballroom. But the other Terran – probably the future murder victim Phichit – had seemed insistent on staying with him. Even the Alpha Allegrian, Christophe, managed to resist Viktor’s emotional prodding for a bit out of some Terran-inspired stubborn loyalty. 

Stubborn loyalty. Viktor looks over at Yuuri, who has emerged from the craft’s onboard refresher. They’re dressed in more modest garments now – a simple blue tunic and slate grey leggings, and Viktor would be lying if he said he didn’t stop to appreciate the way the gauzy material clings to the Terran’s form. Now that they’re away from danger, the urge to touch the Terran resurfaces again. 

“I’m sorry,” he manages after a moment. “I wanted you to be safe.”

Yuuri closes their eyes. Viktor tries to feel the atmosphere around them, but doesn’t get much more than stubborn static. It seems that once they’d realised the true extent of Viktor’s powers, they’d thrown up defenses almost as impenetrable as a Mandalan’s. Viktor’s honestly impressed. 

“I didn’t know a Terran could be so good at resisting… you know.”

“Is that how you do it?” asks Yuuri suddenly. 

“Do what?”

Yuuri’s about to answer, but then a warning chime comes on, telling them to buckle in for liftoff. The harnesses comes down, and Viktor braces himself for escape velocity. 

It’s only when they’ve cleared Neva’s atmosphere when Yuuri speaks up again, looking a little more green than pink. “Convince people to… fraternise with you.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “You think I emotionally… make them do it?” he asks.

“You are able to compel people,” Yuuri points out drily. “How do I know you weren’t doing that back out on the balcony?”

Viktor knows that by all means he should be deeply offended at such an accusation, and yet… nothing. The frustration that rolls through the static, though, he soaks in that a little. “I don’t usually project,” he says after a moment. “I’m a lot better at simply absorbing and redirecting. Emotions that run through me I simply rechannel into better ones. Anger into joy, sadness into warmth, things like that. Projection requires you to be able to regularly generate feelings to project, and I haven’t felt anything completely by myself for a long time.”

Yuuri’s gaze falls to their hands, fiddling with the hem of their tunic. “I don’t know if I trust that, no offense,” they say after a moment.

“None taken,” says Viktor. “Again, I’ve never seen a Terran be able to resist the projection so easily.”

Yuuri chuckles darkly. “You’d be surprised. If I could do it, a lot of Terrans could do it.”

“Not necessarily,” Viktor points out. “It takes mental fortitude.”

“I have dealt with enough monsters in my own head,” replies Yuuri. “I don’t need you poking around in there, too.”

“But would you want me on your mind?” Viktor asks, with a wink, because he clearly has no sense of self preservation. That causes Yuuri’s defences to slip a little, beaming over some flustered embarrassment. On Viktor’s behalf. 

“I’d like the record to state that my translator said ‘on your brain’,” Yuuri says, smirking. “Not quite the same.”

“No, I’d imagine not.” Viktor shakes his head. “Translators are so terrible sometimes.”

“But they’re so necessary,” Yuuri says, sighing. “I wish I had the patience to properly learn every language out there, but it’d take me centuries just to master all the Terran ones alone.”

“Does Terra not have a standard tongue?” wonders Viktor.

“Terran Standard,” says Yuuri, though their expression twists a little. “Controversial renaming, though; it used to be something called ‘English’, which took over the entire globe through wars of conquest and economic domination. Basic Terran history, blah blah.”

“And you’re speaking that to me, right now?” Viktor knows that’s how it fundamentally works, but it’s interesting to hear it confirmed anyway. Yuuri nods.

“And you’re speaking Nevan, I know. I’d like to hear it for itself, though, sometime.”

“You could turn your translator off for a moment,” Viktor says. Yuuri considers it, before nodding and tapping at the side of their head. A flesh-coloured earpiece falls off.

“Go ahead,” they say. Viktor swallows. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. Yuuri nods.

“I don’t know what you’re saying right now.”

Viktor takes a breath. “Okay.” He smiles, looking down at the translator in Yuuri’s hands. “The moment I first saw you, the world became still. So quiet. Like we were made to exist in one another’s space. You drowned everything out, and nothing else mattered. Even now, I am strangely at peace, and I finally have the quiet I need to be able to figure out my own heart.”

Yuuri’s eyes are wide, their mouth slightly agape. Viktor turns towards them, earnestness seeping through him in a tide he cannot control. It snaps out of him; Yuuri flinches; Viktor shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he pleads, pressing his hands together in what he hopes is a good approximation of apology. Yuuri nods. “I didn’t mean to, I just – you make me feel something, you know, and I’ve never really experienced this before, not at this level. I just wish I knew how to find it in me to tell you in a way you understand, instead of just talking and hoping you don’t.”

A moment passes, quiet, strangely tender. Yuuri’s cheeks are pink; his fingers tremble a little as they reach up and puts their translator back in. “Am I allowed to know what you said?” they ask.

Viktor smiles. “I just told you a story about my old pet, Makkachin. Have you ever met a Bergian?”

“Bergian?” echoes Yuuri.

“They look kind of like… what’s the word… dogs, from Terra. Makkachin is very fluffy and brown.” Viktor presses a hand to the armrest, pulls up a picture of the Bergian. His fluffy brown fur shines even in the holo projection.

Yuuri gasps. “He looks like a poodle!”

“Is that a kind of Terran dog?” asks Viktor. Yuuri nods.

“Yeah, I used to have a small version. I named her Venus, but we all called her Vicchan. She died of old age a while back.” They pause for a moment. “I couldn’t make it back to Earth in time to see her off. I’ve been running from there ever since.”

“Bergians are long-lived,” replies Viktor. “Makkachin has been with me since I was very young. He helped me with my training, actually.”

Yuuri’s expression falls again. “Right.” They look down at their fingers, flexes them against the armrest of the chair. Viktor feels their defenses rising back up again, and mourns at the loss. 

“You know exactly how a projection feels like now,” he says after a moment. “Did you feel anything like that when we were on the balcony?”

Yuuri purses their lips. “No,” they admit. 

“There you have it.” Viktor sighs. “I wish I could say I never use it for frivolous things, but I certainly don’t use it for my… connections. It taints the exchange.”

“The exchange,” echoes Yuuri.

“I don’t usually feel much of anything myself,” replies Viktor. A chime on the screen announces the arrival of the spaceport in less than five minutes. “I know I should, but I just – it’s easier to mimic the feelings of the people around me and pretend those are mine, too.”

“Is that why you end up with all sorts of non-Nevan beings?” asks Yuuri, tilting their head and looking at him curiously. Their topaz eyes shine with that same curiosity from earlier. “You want to ride their emotions for a bit?”

“Basically,” agrees Viktor. “It does do terrible things for my public image, though.” He laughs drily, remembering the latest tabloid gossip surrounding him and an intensely flamboyant Gilletese. “But I’d rather they think that instead of, you know. The idea that there’s a black hole where my heart should be, or something.”

“I doubt that,” Yuuri says immediately. Viktor raises an eyebrow. 

“Doubt what?”

“That your heart is a black hole,” replies Yuuri. “You’re honestly quite Terran, I think.”

Viktor realises then, with a start, that Yuuri had moved a little closer during that, their gaze darting to Viktor’s chest with undeniable curiosity. Viktor reaches out, placing Yuuri’s hand lightly over where his heart currently flutters wildly. 

“You don’t need –” Yuuri begins, and then bows their head, flushing. Viktor raises an eyebrow, before slipping off a glove and pressing his fingers lightly to the back of Yuuri’s hand.

Almost immediately, Yuuri swoons. 

[joeys-piano]

Title: How to Tame the Beast Inside Rating: Teen (P for psychological angst) Notes: ficlet, psychological drama, playing with angles and perspective, introspective piece, alludes to mafia AU, mind games with yourself, a trippy reading experience, attention to detail, a standalone Viktor-ficlet with internal conflict, two lines of dialogue in this entire thing, writing exercise

A/N: When I write, I like to play with “camera angles” and perspective within the narrative. This ficlet was like a step into my playground where I tried to make the strangest narrative that I could. This is a standalone ficlet to my mafia “How to--” series on AO3, and a decent warm up to the monstrous update I have for chapter 3 of the series’ main work~

A white countertop grew defined within its lines when a finger skated across the surface. Absently, at first. Every trail, every mark left behind by the nails, scribbled the chopped onions, the ounce of parsley, and a slab of baker’s butter that the mind couldn’t see. Not at first. All followed by the curvature of a knife, rinsed and repeated under the spill of the faucet. Cascaded, droplets ricocheting off from their reflections. Splattered the air with trace hints of chlorine and imperfections. Stained the spotted sink, but Viktor didn’t seem to mind.

The blur of his figure sharpened into something define when he ran his thumb across the blade. A trail of droplets left behind by his wake, but the knife was cleaner now. Or so, he believed. Beyond the looking glass, he couldn’t tell if the eyes staring back at him were indeed his own.

Or if his lips, pressed between a line and a smile, were merely a reflection of the monster lurking behind his gaze. Viktor didn’t know until he brushed back his bangs. One by one, the strands slid back over a corner of his eyes. Unfazed for a moment before his reflection narrowed its eyes. A touch of fire behind the hem of a curtain when Viktor peeled his eyes away from the sight. Focusing on what he had left to do, but the lure of a familiar sight reeled him back to the blade. Where standing in front of the sink, the back of Viktor’s shirt faced the rest of the kitchen. One step at a time, growing closer, until over the shoulder and staring back at Viktor was him.

‘Him’ being Viktor--the other Viktor, a splintered fragment of a soul. Becoming the body within a body when reality blurred between the lines, that was the other Viktor. Where lies need not be said because he knew that Viktor would hear them, nonetheless. One way or another in this ticking odyssey called Life, that was the other Viktor.

But to call one’s self ‘Viktor’ and ‘other’ proved too childish for the darker persona to accept, so he fashioned himself a new name. Fitted off the crown that bestowed Viktor’s head, Viktor hesitated before he formally met Breaker. The persona that so few yet so many knew Viktor as when one needed a geologist to unearth the mind. Sculpt from the sands that carved it, melt from the steel that mended the bonds, and crumble every corner until the mind was disposable as a fifty-cent dollar. Breaker wasn’t Viktor, as well as Breaker was neither born nor dead during the last escapade that branded that nickname into the nightmare it stood today.

You’re not real. So were the bullets, pistoled by every jerk of the trigger. Not one, but ten. Bouncing off from the floor before a hand seized Viktor by the neck of his collar and held him back. The memory of that gun fell, handle first, onto the concrete. Like a teacup, shattering before Viktor’s eyes.

What are you doing here? Much like the criminal, much like the anguish that ripped Viktor apart by the seams. When his knees bruised against the sidewalk and Breaker took shape when flecks of a ponytail laid barren on the ground. Pulled apart by jagged glass and crushed beneath a shoe when a younger-self sought for vengeance for what took of what couldn’t be replaced.

“Do I terrify you?” These were not his words, but they were said so that Viktor could hear. So that Viktor could stare back at his reflection and watch how the snippet of his figure moved alongside with him. Breaker was merely a fragment of his imagination, but some part of him felt real. The kitchen knife pricked a hole into Viktor’s thumb. And perhaps, instead of washing the blood like he should’ve, Viktor garnered himself a taste.

The swivel of his tongue around the cut. Of a moist warmth, coating the edge of his thumb in such a passion that it could’ve been mistaken as a kiss if the thumb wasn’t so apparent. If the thumb had been someone else, someone softer that Breaker could sink his teeth into if Viktor hadn’t held him back. No matter what, he had to hide Breaker from Yuuri. That was the compromise, formed when Viktor popped his thumb out from his mouth, and a glint of saliva shone back at him under the kitchen lights. Bit by bit, Viktor’s other hand freed the knot that pressed an apron against him and the fabric fell. Draped over the naked steps that lured Viktor out from the kitchen.

His pricked thumb felt closure within the embrace of a band-aid. Safety and warmth, much as how Yuuri kept Viktor safe when Breaker turned his head and perched a finger beneath Viktor’s chin. Hell was empty for the Devil had found a throne within the confines of Viktor’s mind, and he--in turn--corrupted whatever Viktor wanted to touch. But not Yuuri, no. Viktor kept some semblance of control when he felt a hitch along his fingers, brought by a painful lurch of desire. No, Viktor kept himself steady.

“You can’t be his predator if you remain as his prey,” Viktor whispered to his band-aid. The quiet horrors of a mind unspoken was the perfect ground for a psychological breaker to shovel, and it meant chiseling at his own mind until he could part himself into two. And finally look into Breaker’s eyes as an equal.

[blumenwrites]

Day Five: Magic

a03

mage! Viktor trying to whoo chubby! Yuuri at an art gallery, shenanigans ensue

Viktor had been criticised before for being over dramatic but he swore this time he was justified, because really, anyone would swoon if they had seen him. Unsuspecting of the cupid's arrow that was to be shot through his art, Viktor had entered the art exhibition. He had planned to fawn at some nice pieces, drink some wine, and possibly buy some junk food afterwards to reach equilibrium. Nowhere had he planned to meet what had to be the love of his life, because surely coming across someone that beautiful had to be a sign. 

The man was slightly above average height with medium-length brown hair that looked so soft it resembled cat fur. Atop his head was a simple black beanie with cat ears that were so cute Viktor almost choked on his saliva. His clothing was simple, basic black shirt and jeans, but well-fitted to his round figure. Currently, he was gazing at an abstract piece, his posture slumped but his wide-eyed wonder alluring nonetheless. His skin looked soft, Viktor thought with a wistful sigh. The blemishes and unevenness in tone did nothing to placate Viktor's thoughts that he belonged in a face-wash advert, because was this man glowing or was Viktor that gone already? It was something in the shyness in which he held himself like he didn't even know how gorgeous he was that meant Viktor had to talk to him lest he spend the rest of eternity alone.

“It's a beautiful piece, isn't it?” Viktor said, joining the man's side. He made sure that the angle he approached caught the lighting in the most flattering way.

The other man's eyes widened, and Viktor noticed they were a deep brown, like dark coffee. Viktor bit his lip to contain what would sound like strangled moose noises.

“A-ah, yes, the colours are s-stunning,” he replied, eyes returning to the artwork, a light blush dusting his chubby cheeks. Surely, he couldn't get any cuter?

“I agree,” Viktor concurred, and shot his winning smile. The man's blush flared and Viktor swallowed an unbecoming squeal. “I'm Viktor,” he greeted and held out his hand.

“Uh-Yuuri,” he responded, touch delicate but firm. When he let go Viktor fought the urge to retake his hand and trace the ridges of his knuckles.

“Come here often?” Viktor asked and then immediately fought the urge to throw himself out of a window. Do you come here often, what was I thinking? Viktor screamed internally. I am far more charming than that cliché!

Yuuri, bless him, either didn't notice or decided not to comment.

“Um, well...this isn't really my scene. I'm not massively into art but my friend's the, uh, artist and I wanted to support him, so” Yuuri made a movement that was a mix between a shrug and a sweeping motion.

“Interesting,” Viktor replied. “I've been following his work for quite a while now.”

“I-I can introduce you...If you want?”

“That would be lovely if you don't mind.”

“N-no, uh, of course I don't.”

“Perfect.”

Somehow, without even having to swish his fringe, they fell into a natural rhythm, walking side by side and making occasional comments about works that caught their eye. Whilst Viktor was far too distracted by the man next to him to truly appreciate the works around him, he couldn't find it within himself to care. The art gallery was unfortunately small, consisting of only one floor, meaning they returned to the beginning all too quickly.

“What did you think?” Viktor asked as they hovered near the exit.

“It was surprisingly good-not that I expected it to be bad! It's just that Phichit is a bit of a goof-ball so I didn't expect him to make something so...well, serious.”

Viktor made an affirmative sound in reply.

Both were silent for a moment.

“Can I show you something?” Viktor asked, a daring smile tickling the corners of his lips.

Yuuri pondered for a moment before answering “yes.”

“You're going to love this,” he promised, and grasped Yuuri's hand to drag him around the corner where no one would see them.

“Viktor?” Yuuri said but he received no response.

“What is your favourite type of flower?” Viktor asked with Yuuri's hand still in his grasp. He hoped his palms weren't sweaty.

“Um...Tulips?” Yuuri replied, clearly confused but he didn't let go either so Viktor saw it as a positive.

“What colour?”

“...Pink.”

Viktor smiled to his ears and clicked his fingers to produce a full bouquet of pink tulips fully in bloom.

“For you,” Viktor offered, handing them over to Yuuri whose eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared into his hairline.

“What the...how did you even...what the fuck?”

Okay, so Yuuri hadn't been charmed off his feet like Viktor had imagined but Yuuri hadn't ran away yet either which was something.

“Are you a magician or something?”

Typically, Viktor was an expert at hiding his emotions but he couldn't help but pout.

“No! This isn't some trick; I'm the real deal!”

“Wait...so you're,” Yuuri paused, scrunching up his face, answering Viktor's earlier question with a yes, he could get cuter, “Magic?”

“Well, that's one way to put it.”

Yuuri was silent for a moment.

“Well, you're the first wizard I've ever met, Viktor. I guess I should feel privileged. Wait, why are you laughing?”

“I'm sorry,” Viktor wheezed. “It's just that when you said wizard I was picturing myself as being 300 years old with a long beard and I couldn't.”

“I guess that is quite a funny image,” and Yuuri smiled directly at him, inducing fatal damage and yep, he checked his pulse, Viktor was now dead.

As he was about to invite Yuuri to drinks, he felt a tingling around his nostrils. No no no no no nonono-

“Viktor, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, just about to sneeze.”

With an explosion that could wake someone from a coma, Viktor sneezed like a Dad, and with it, turned blue. Great. This doesn't compliment the tone of my hair at all!

“Oh my god!”

“Don't-”

“You're blue!”

“Yes, that does appear to be true.”

“What? I'm-how?”

Yuuri's reaction to the flowers was mostly confusion but now his expression could only be described as what the fuck?!?!?!?! dramatic punctuation included.

“It's my allergies. It'll go away I swear,” Viktor promised, although the desperation in his tone wasn't particularly comforting.

“Your allergies...during winter...make you turn blue?”

“My powers change whenever I sneeze,” Viktor explained, almost bored of it at this point. “I should go back to normal soon.” So many of his magical peers got such cool powers. Super strength, invisibility, mind reading, and more importantly, these were permanent. Viktor had an embarrassing quirk whereby the result of his new power was simply a lottery of what would come next. At least he hadn't turned into an ant this time...

“I don't really know how to help. How do you induce a sneeze?” Yuuri quaked, pitch rising.

“Wait, I feel one coming on,” Viktor said, the horridly uncomfortable feeling returning as he waited to sneeze. Finally, it came, and Viktor's skin returned to its normal colour.

“What a relief,” Viktor commented and added an uncomfortable giggle. He was never going to get Yuuri's number at this rate. “Let's see what we have this time,” he said, clicking his fingers once more. The art gallery promptly burst into flames.

“Shit,” Viktor hissed and quickly took Yuuri's hand as they ran to the exit. Yakov was going to kill him. If the flames didn't get there first.

“What did you do?” Yuuri yelled above the commotion of rushing civilians.

“I didn't mean to!” Viktor weakly defended, heart pounding within the confines of his ribcage.

Thankfully, they quickly reached the entrance. The fresh air was a relief to the acrid smoke inside. Distantly, a baby was screaming. An official looking man in a suit, who Viktor recognised as a leader of the Institute, shot him a glare so sharp it cut before entering the building. No one stopped him; in fact, the employees of the exhibition didn't even notice him. Viktor had escaped the fire but he was dead.

By some miracle, no one was hurt.

“So,” Viktor panted, turning to look at Yuuri. Horrified would be one way to describe his face. “I don't suppose you'd be up to getting some drinks after this?”

Yuuri stared at him, mouth agape, before bursting into laughter. He was still holding his bouquet.

“Am I crazy for saying yes?” Yuuri chuckled at himself. “I suppose I need a drink after all of this.”

Viktor's mouth burst into a smile. He'd probably get yelled at and fined by the Institute (...again) but it'd be worth it. After all, he might even be able to get a second date out of this.

[winglesscrows]

The Tracklist of Friendship Ch. 1

AO3 I Patreon I FF.net

Next

Yuri on Ice I G I Phichit & Yuuri I 6k WIP

The story of Yuuri and Phichit’s friendship, but told through the songs that means the most to them.

Read on AO3 or under cut

1. Riverside

“Yuuri. Yuuri. I have something for you,” Phichit says enthusiastically and Yuuri finally lets him down so that Phichit can drag him to his skate bag, where he pulls something out, “Happy birthday!” Phichit beams as he hands Yuuri the gift wrapped in blue paper, with a little paw-shaped note hanging off of it.

“You shouldn’t have...” Yuuri says as he takes the gift.

“Nonsense, Yuuri. But I’m not as rich as Viktor, so don’t expect that to be a trip to Hawaii or something.”

Yuuri laughs, “I mean, Viktor gave me a song, so…”

“Viktor gave you a song?” Phichit exclaims, and then throws Viktor a dirty look. It makes Yuuri curious as he opens the gift.

The gift is a CD. But not just any CD, no, as Yuuri turns it over to look at the track list, he knows Phichit put this together. It’s all the songs that have some sort of special meaning in their friendship (and that includes Phichit’s favorite song from The King and The Skater).

“Riverside?” Viktor reads the first track out loud, as he looks over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Oh! That’s a good story!” Phichit beams…

***

It had been a week since the newest member of Team Cialdini had officially joined them and moved his entire life to Detroit. That person was a young Thai skater still in the junior ranks by the name of Phichit Chulanont. Yuuri had exchanged few words with the boy, and their relationship was little more than that of acquaintances. Yuuri didn’t know an awful lot about him, and had only watched a couple of his skates when Celestino had told them that he had taken a new student under his wing. The two of them, being almost four years apart in age, had never competed against each other before as Phichit had joined the junior ranks some time after Yuuri had turned senior.

Yuuri didn’t feel bad about not getting to know Phichit better. He wasn’t much of a people person, and Phichit clearly was, as he had quickly made friends with most of the people in the rink - even the woman who ran the reception seemed to suddenly be a close friend of his. Yuuri could hardly believe that Phichit was only sixteen. When Yuuri was sixteen, he had been even more of a recluse than he currently was and even now he had very few people in Detroit that he would consider friends. None whom he would consider close friends. In fact, the only close friends he had were Yuuko and Takeshi, and they were both back in Hasetsu. And with Yuuri being busy with both skating and college, while his friends had to care for triplets, it had been over two years since he seen them in person. Looking at how easily Phichit fit into the rink made Yuuri think that it would be nice to get along with everyone so easily. But Yuuri was content, he could make conversation with his rinkmates when he wanted to and there was no awkward tension like there sometimes was with his college classmates.

It was halfway through June when Celestino called the two of them over for a reason unclear to both of them. By this time, they had exchanged phone numbers and exactly three texts.

“There has been a mix-up,” Celestino began, his students unaware of what he was referring to, “Since Phichit has an ice show next month, I called an old friend of mine to choreograph a new piece for you. I thought you could use it as your exhibition piece for the upcoming season.”

Phichit nodded, clearly excited about getting a new program. He had been mildly dissatisfied with Celestino’s choice of having him skate to a classical ballet piece for his short program, and while he had been slowly getting into it, a change of pace might be very welcome.

“However, I must have been unclear in my email, because the program she made is for Yuuri,” Celestino explained and Yuuri glanced at Phichit to look at his reaction. He was quite disappointed to see that Phichit had no reaction at all. He was always so animated.

“I want to go over the program with the two of you, and let you decide which of you should get it. The style of it suits Yuuri much better, I will say, but with some changes, I believe that you, Phichit, should be able to make it your own.”

“Ciao-Ciao,” Phichit begun, and Celestino rolled his eyes at the nickname Phichit had given him within his first week of being here, and had never stopped calling him by, “Why can’t we both skate it?”

“To the same program?”

“Well, you said we would change it a little if I took it, so it wouldn’t be exactly the same. If Yuuri wouldn’t mind, I’d love to do it,” Phichit looked over to Yuuri like he was asking for permission, but Yuuri wasn’t exactly sure why Phichit would want both of them to skate to the same music and program. Yuuri was a senior, and Phichit a junior. It would look worse for Phichit than for him.

“Why would you want that?” Yuuri asked bluntly, and Phichit looked, perhaps, a little startled.

“I thought it would be fun,” Phichit said, slowly gaining more confidence in his stance, “And I would like to work with you on something. We hardly ever talk.”

Yuuri resisted the urge to shake his head. Since they never spent time together, Yuuri had never realized that saying no to Phichit was a very hard thing to do. “Okay,” he agreed, “We both do the exhibition.”

Phichit then proceeded to make a sound that was definitely not human, and Yuuri could only compare it what he had always imagined a baby pterodactyl would sound like. When Yuuri didn’t join him in his joy, Phichit jumped at him and gave him a hug, which Yuuri didn’t know what to do with. Even if he wanted to return the hug, Phichit had his arms locked in place by his sides, and Yuuri awkwardly tried to pat the part of Phichit’s arm he could reach.

When Phichit finally let go of him, Yuuri gave him a forced smile. He didn’t know Phichit all that well, but he thought that he would soon, whether he wanted to or not.

***

They began to practice for their somewhat shared exhibition the very next day. The music they were skating to was Riverside, and to make the music feel different, Yuuri got to skate to the instrumental version of the song, while Phichit got it in its original form. Yuuri preferred the instrumental anyway. He had never been good with skating to lyrics.

There was only one planned jump in the entire piece (a clear indicator that this was made for Yuuri), and Yuuri choose a triple axel - his favorite - while Phichit choose the triple flip, which Yuuri would assume was his best jump. As Celestino worked them through the choreography, Yuuri noticed that Phichit paid a lot of attention to Yuuri and what he was doing, which was… odd. They wanted to make these exhibitions their own, so it would make more sense for Phichit to keep to himself and not be influenced by what Yuuri was doing, yet there he was, looking at Yuuri intensely as he worked through the choreography.

Yuuri didn’t want to say that it was annoying, but it was at least distracting to have someone look at him like Phichit did. It took Yuuri one week of Phichit (more or less) silently looking at him, before he just asked him.

“Why are you paying so much attention to me?” Yuuri asked, trying not to sound annoyed. Despite his outgoing nature, Phichit was still just sixteen and Yuuri tried his best to keep that in mind.

Phichit rubbed the back of his head and smiled shyly (that couldn’t be right) at Yuuri, “I like your skating,” he explained and Yuuri had to stop himself for blurting out why?

“Thanks,” he muttered instead, and then the awkward silence followed. But only for a short while, because Phichit was a talkative person.

“Part of the reason I came to Detroit was because I wanted to skate with you,” Phichit admitted, and Yuuri was sure he looked very visible confused right at that moment, and he didn’t know if that was why Phichit kept talking or if he just normally gave people his entire life story once they were on speaking terms, “I have admired you since you won silver at Junior Worlds, so when my coach suggested that I should perhaps go overseas to skate, well, I thought I would train here with you. Of course, Ciao-Ciao is a great coach, but I really admire you so… I was really excited about doing the same exhibition.

But man, you really are so much better than me,” Phichit sighed, “There are so many things in this exhibition that are so hard, but you seem to do it so easily! I didn’t get why Ciao-Ciao didn’t just give me the program even if the choreographer didn’t know it was for me, but I understand now. That last part is harder than any step sequence I have ever done!”

“I could help you...” Yuuri offered without thinking, but he was just so overwhelmed by someone saying that they admired him. Who would even admire him of all people, when there were skaters like Viktor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti and Cao Bin? It seemed ludacris to Yuuri, but Phichit was such an honest person, it seemed unlikely that he would lie to him.

“Really?” Phichit beamed at Yuuri, looking up at him with sparkles in his eyes, and Yuuri almost regretted offering. Almost, because Phichit was less taxing of a person than he had anticipated someone like him being, and maybe it wouldn’t be bad if they got along.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Phichit jump-hugged him again, and though he was reluctant, Yuuri returned the hug this time.

***

“You can do a quad flip?” Phichit exclaimed, his eyes shimmering again (Yuuri had learned that Phichit’s eyes were usually full of life and admiration) and Yuuri looked away, not really wanting to disappoint Phichit, who apparently looked up to him.

“Not really...” Yuuri replied slowly, still feeling Phichit’s eyes on him.

“Liar!” Phichit yelled (or… not really yelled, more like his voice was loud, but playful and enthusiastic, and Yuuri still didn’t know how to characterize Phichit), “I just saw you do it!”

“Oh...yeah...” Yuuri said intelligible, “That.”

“Are you going to do it competition?” Phichit squealed (yes, actually squealed) and moved a little so that he could look Yuuri in the eye again, “Viktor is the only one who has done it, and he doesn’t even land it half of the time!” Phichit began rambling, “How amazing would it be if you could do it too!”

“But I can’t,” Yuuri said slowly, and Phichit looked at him almost sadly.

“But you just did it.”

“Competition is different,” Yuuri shook his head, “You’ve seen my quad sal-”

“Which is also amazing by the way.”

“But I have never landed it in competition,” Yuuri finished. The quad flip was a lot of fun, but he felt like that fun would be ruined if he ever attempted it in competition. There was no way he could do it. He would fall, underrotate, pop it or all three. No, the quad flip was for practice and nothing more.

“If you can do it in practice then why not in competition?”

Yuuri looked wildly at Phichit. Was he one of those insane people who didn’t feel pressure? “I just can’t.” Yuuri said, trying to end the conversation. Phichit’s smile faded slightly until he let the topic go and asked Yuuri to help him with the exhibition again.

***

“You don’t have an instagram?” Phichit asked outraged, when he had asked what Yuuri’s handle was and Yuuri had lied and said he didn’t have one. It was a bit of a reflex, since the account he had was both private and more of a fan account. He had no posts, but he followed all his favorite skaters and occasionally, because no one know it was him, he would leave a comment on something. He had been cautious about commenting on Phichit’s posts in fear that he would find out that it was him. No, lying was the best thing for him to do here. Besides, no one needed to know that he went under an embarrassing Viktor Nikiforov fan name.

“We’ll have to change that,” Phichit said, but before he could get a hold of Yuuri’s phone (which had the instagram app in it), Celestino graciously walked through the door and Yuuri could honestly say that he had never been happier to see him.

That same night, Yuuri made his official instagram account (without Phichit), and cleverly called it katsudon-yuuri, since all other variations of his actual name had been taken. Just to be on the safe side, he made a new account for his twitter as well, because his fan account on there was a very active one, and Phichit really didn’t need to know about it. To avoid getting caught, he immediately shared the new accounts with Phichit, who became his first follower.

***

“Yuuri,” Phichit said again a couple of days later, “Having an account isn’t enough. Why haven’t you posted anything?”

Yuuri looked at him questioningly, “All I’m doing is figure skating practice. That’s hardly anything worth posting about.”

“Oh yeah?” Phichit responded smugly, “And what would you post then?”

“I don’t know, meeting the queen,” Yuuri tried, and Phichit rolled his eyes.

“What queen? The queen of England?”

“Sure.”

“Yuuri, you just admitted you were never going to post anything. Ever.” Yuuri shrugged, and Phichit magically got a hold of his phone, “Smile!” He exclaimed and leaned in close to Yuuri, taking a selfie of the two of them, which he immediately posted to Yuuri’s instagram before giving Yuuri his phone back.

The photo was slightly awkward. Phichit was smiling brightly, winking at the camera and had his arm around Yuuri’s neck, his fingers forming a peace sign. Yuuri’s smile was more shy, and it was clear from the picture that Phichit had dragged him into this. He also looked like a mess. His hair was sticking up everywhere, ruffled from spin practice and there were definitely drops of sweat on his face - sweat which should have been on Phichit’s face as well, but somehow didn’t show in the picture. The caption Phichit had chosen was a mere finished practice with @phichit-chu and then a bunch of random hashtags.

“There,” Phichit said proudly, “Now that you’ve ripped off the band-aid, you can post whatever you like.”

Yuuri looked at Phichit and wanted to shake his head. Yuuri’s next post was two months later at his first grand prix assignment in Canada. The picture was of the rink, ice just surfaced and Yuuri about to enter it. The first comment was made by Phichit: I’m so proud of you.

***

Yuuri, unsurprisingly, didn’t make it to the Finals that year, but he did win Japanese nationals for the second year in a row so that was something. What was surprising was when Phichit came up to him after New Years, looking slightly conflicted and without any prompting just told Yuuri what was up.

“My roommate is dropping out of high school,” he explained and Yuuri could only nod in sympathy, “I’ll be so lonely.”

They still weren’t the best of friends, but Yuuri was slowly getting fond of Phichit, especially as they had worked on their exhibition together. Yuuri was surprised that only a few number of people had picked up that they were using the same exhibition, but he supposed that by now they looked quite different from each other. But the exhibition had made them friends, and Yuuri was in a bit of a pickle himself.

“You know,” he began, “I don’t know if it’s allowed, but my roommate is finishing his degree overseas, so by the end of the month, I don’t have a roommate either.”

It took Phichit a couple of seconds to fully get what Yuuri was offering to him, but when he did, he got a little teary-eyed.

“Can I move in with you?” He asked, just to confirm that Yuuri wasn’t playing around and Yuuri nodded shyly, not wanting to admit that it was just as much for Phichit as for himself as he didn’t want to get to know a new person who would be moving in with him. Letting Phichit move in with him was a whole lot easier for them both, and since their schedules were quite alike, it would probably make it all much easier.

From the beginning of February, the two of them were officially roommates.

[mentallyunstableunicornwrites]

Dinner that night was a rowdy affair with Yuuri’s family, Minako, and the Nishigoris stopping by to meet Viktor, the gamer that Yuuri had been infatuated with for a long time. Viktor was beyond flattered really, and some of Yuuri’s shyness around him suddenly made sense. However that didn’t keep them all from poking fun at Yuuri every chance that they got, using Viktor as ammunition. More than once Viktor wished he understood Japanese when a particularly red faced Yuuri would stutter, looking at Viktor in shock.

The food was unlike anything Viktor had ever tasted before. Breaded pork with egg, veggies, and rice. He considered himself a foodie in every sense of the word. There was nothing that he wouldn’t try, and given the fact that he was well traveled he had plenty opportunities to eat exotic dishes. There was something about this particular dish though that was beyond anything Viktor had ever experienced.

“It’s called katsudon.” Yuuri said quietly while his family chatted amongst one another, apparently leaving Yuuri alone for a little while. “It is my favorite, although I don’t get to eat it all that often.” He blushed a little, “I have always gained weight a little too easily.” Viktor smiled softly at him. This was nice, Yuuri actually letting him into his personal life, even if it was just a little.

“So, Viktor, have you gotten a chance to see our Yuuri’s shrine yet?” Mari laughed as Yuuri coughed up a piece of his food. He had no clue what she was talking about, but he was more than willing to find out.

“What shrine is this?” he said, genuinely curious as he turned to Yuuri who had been reduced to nothing more than a sputtering, tomato red mess.

“His shrine to you of course.” Her voice was so innocent and in such sharp contrast with the way Yuuri was acting that Viktor was beyond intrigued.

“Yuuuuuriiiii?” Viktor drawled, “what is this I hear about you having a shrine to me?” He placed his elbow on the table and rested his cheek against the palm of his hand. Yuuri just looked at him like he had asked Yuuri to solve the world’s most complex mathematical equation before jumping up and excusing himself. Mari fell into a fit of laughter that brought tears to her eyes.

“If you want to go see it, you may want to go now. I think, he is going to tear it down.” She said between laughs and wiping her eyes clear of tears. Viktor had never acted on anything so fast. He stood up so quickly that he just about fell over and almost took off without thanking his hosts.

“Katsuki-san, thank you for the meal it was delicious,” he said so quickly that it sounded like it came out in a single breath before he turned around and took off.

“He is in his room!” Mari yelled after him. It was only then that Viktor realized he didn’t even know where this so called ‘shrine’ was. He ran up the stairs as quickly as his legs would carry him and skidded to a halt in front of a door he remembered Yuuri pointing out as his. He stood there for a moment, knowing that all he wanted to do was throw open the door and catch Yuuri in the act of taking down… whatever it was that he would keep in this shrine. But Viktor also knew that Yuuri was a lot more private in real life than he was online. He had to be careful about how he stepped around Yuuri, because there was a good chance that he would act like a wild animal and run away if Viktor overstepped. He had already crossed an ocean for Yuuri. If the man ran from him while they were staying under the same roof, he wouldn’t know what to do.

He gently knocked on the door and didn’t even bother suppressing the smile as he heard Yuuri squeak in surprise and a bunch of rustling on the other side of the door. A few minutes later the door finally slid open to reveal a rather disheveled looking Yuuri who was breathing a little bit heavier than he should have been.

“Viktor.” He said casually, “I didn’t expect to see you up here already. Are you done eating?” Viktor was beyond surprised with Yuuri’s ability to get through his statement with a straight face. Then again two could play this game.

“Oh, yes, I am done.” He smiled. “I thought we could chat, just the two of us. Mind if I come in for a bit?” He watched as Yuuri wrestled with the idea in his head for a moment before finally sighing and stepping to the side allowing Viktor in.

The room was smaller than Viktor had expected it to be. The rooms that he had always lived in were easily two or three times the size of what looked to be a storage closet that had been renovated some time ago. Viktor could feel Yuuri’s eyes on him.

“Sorry it is so cramped.” he coughed, breaking the silence. “I find that when the world feels like it’s a little too big, having a small place to retreat to is nice.” He shrugged as he closed the door and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. After a moment of hesitation Viktor did the same.

“Does that happen a lot, the world feeling too big?” Viktor couldn’t say that he completely understood what Yuuri was talking about. But the differences between the two of them were evident. Viktor thrived off of attention, Yuuri was more subdued and seemed to enjoy his solitude. He could see how, for a person like Yuuri, having a small space would be beneficial.

“Often enough.” He paused and looked at Viktor with a look that made Viktor’s heart beat a little faster. He could see the inner turmoil, the tug of war between letting Viktor in or keeping him at a distance play out in Yuuri’s eyes. “Viktor,” Yuuri finally whispered and looked everywhere but where Viktor was sitting.

“I… I am not… mentally I… the thing is…” He sighed in frustration. Viktor shifted on the bed so that he was sitting right next to Yuuri. Reaching out he wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders and pulled him into his embrace for the second time that day.

“Yuuri, take a breath.” He whispered into Yuuri’s ear, he could feel the tension start to fall away as Yuuri took a deep slightly shaky breath and release it. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, that you could tell me would ever make me think any less of you.” He made sure that his tone told Yuuri that he was adamant in that belief . He didn’t want to leave an ounce of doubt in Yuuri’s mind.

“I, I don’t talk to many people about it.” Yuuri whispered after a moment. “Most people outside of my family and close friends don’t know.” Viktor tightened his grip on Yuuri and smiled as he felt the man readjust to make himself more comfortable. His head resting on Viktor’s chest, one hand over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the world, the other loosely wrapped around Viktor’s waist.

“Am I not a friend, Yuuri?” He asked softly. Yuuri shook his head and pushed away from Viktor suddenly to sit up and look him in the eye.

“Why would you think that? No, we are… we are.” He took a deep breath and started to twist his hands in his lap. “I have a disorder, an anxiety disorder. It makes it hard for me to think sometimes. My mind will start to lie to me. It tells me things that I know aren’t true but it forces me to believe that they are.” He paused, taking some time to compile his thoughts.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called out after a few moments, “Will you, I mean, it may help me understand a little better, will you tell me what happened at the GPC finals?” Yuuri slowly pulled out his phone, and for the first time Viktor noticed the poodle case and smiled. Of course Yuuri liked poodles, he was perfect in every other way.

“T-This, this is Vicchan.” he said turning the screen towards Viktor. A much younger, much chubbier version of the man before him was kneeling on the ground with a toy poodle that looked like a small version of Makka. Viktor smiled at the sight, it was pure and happy, and… why did Yuuri look so sad?

“Vicchan is… was my best friend growing up. I was painfully shy and had a really hard time making friends. But dogs, they just don’t care.” Yuuri smiled at the picture. “He loved me for me, anxiety, panic attacks, the good times, the bad, he was there through it all. The morning of the second day of competition, right before I left the hotel I received a phone call from my sister that Vicchan snuck past her that morning while she was getting deliveries. She called him but he was always adventurous and he ran out to the end of the drive. The car… the car didn’t have enough time to stop.” Yuuri’s voice began to get raspy as he held back the tears.

“Oh Yuuri!” was all Viktor said before he threw himself at the man and wrapped him up tight. Makka was everything to Viktor, the companion that he never really got to have before because of who he was. The dog went almost everywhere with him and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose Makka in such a violent way. “And you still tried to play.” He whispered as his hand ran soothing circles around Yuuri’s back. “I don’t think I could have.”

“That night at the banquet, Otak, my sponsor, approached me and said that they were no longer interested in sponsoring me. In the end, I just… I couldn’t face anyone.” They sat together letting a silence linger between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, rather there was a kind of relief in the unspoken understanding. Viktor smiled and rested his head against the crown of Yuuri’s.

“You really are something special.” His voice was so quiet that he wasn’t sure if Yuuri had heard him or not. The slight tightening of Yuuri’s arm around his waist told him that his words were appreciated though.

“Yuuri? What is that?” Viktor said with amusement as he pointed to a framed picture on his desk. The wooden frame contained a picture of none other than Viktor himself right after his GPC finals win last year. Yuuri jumped up so quickly that it almost knocked Viktor backwards as he lunged for the picture.

“That? That is nothing.” he said hastily. “Just a weapon I plan on bludgeoning my sister with in her sleep tonight.” If Viktor wasn’t already completely enamored with Yuuri, the sight of him beet red and guilty at being caught with Viktor’s picture on his desk would have sealed the deal. Continue reading on AO3

[mismatched-ideas]

The Intrinsic Properties of the Human Heart

Rating: T

Words: 16009

Tags: Royalty AU, dancer!yuuri, prince!viktor, drinking, anxious yuuri, depressed viktor, gossip, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is just another dancer from Hasetsu, a small southern region that most people have never heard of. But with invaders threatening from the south, he and his troop head to the capital in the hopes of winning the Prince's favor and his hand.

Notes: This fic was writing for the 2017 Victuri Big Bang! I’m so excited to be part of this. I was paired with the lovely artist @spot-of-paint and once they’ve posted the accompanying pieces, I’ll be sure to reblog this and their post with links to the other, if that makes any sense. Basically, just watch out for those, they’re going to be amazing. 

---

Chapter 1: Little Mistakes

Yuuri wasn’t used to being the one to comfort someone else, especially not Yuuko. But while they waited for their audience with the prince, Yuuko seemed to barely be holding it together.

“Yuuri, can I tell you something?” She breathed, her words only loud enough for Yuuri to hear.

“Of course.”

“I know I have to do this but I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to,” Yuuri told her despite the fact that they both knew it was a lie.

“I’m the only eligible Lady in Hasetsu and we need protection.” She smiled but it was forced and lacked the mirth usual present in her smiles. “I know I have to do this but I just wanted to tell someone how I felt.”

“Yuuko…” Yuuri felt wholly unprepared to help Yuuko right now because she wasn’t wrong, Hasetsu needed protection from The Crown. But he still didn’t think she should have to do this. He didn’t think she should have to give up her home, her family, and the man she was planning to marry.

The thing was Hasetsu was small and didn’t have much to offer to The King. They were sworn to King Yakov and were technically promised protection. That said, nobody in Hasetsu was naive to think they weren’t The Crown’s last priority. Until now, it hadn’t mattered much but now there were attackers approaching from the south and it wouldn’t be long before Hasetsu was completely taken over. The King would defeat the invaders before they could get much farther but by then it would most likely be too late for Hasetsu.

Hasetsu was terrified, trying to figure out how to protect itself or find a way to get the attention of The Capital. Then, like a gift from heaven, King Yakov announced that if any region could put forward a suitor who could enchant The Crown Prince, then the region would be granted whatever they needed or wanted.

So Earl Celestino called together his best dancers to offer the hand of Yuuko. Dance was really the only thing Hasetsu had to offer that was interesting and Celestino hoped it would catch The Crown Prince’s eye. Personally, Yuuri couldn’t imagine a way that The Crown Prince could say no to Yuuko. She was beautiful, graceful, and smart and Yuuri couldn’t imagine anyone who would better than her.

Read the rest of Chapter 1 below or read the entire fic on AO3

The problem was, Yuuko already had a suitor who would have soon become a fiancé if not for The King’s message. Takeshi and Yuuko had been best friends since childhood and they had been so close to taking the next step toward marriage when their perfect future was shattered.

Yuuri knew Yuuko would never protest, would never say no to protecting her people, but he wasn’t sure he could let her do this. He knew he should care more about all the people who’d be hurt by the invaders if they didn’t get protection but he just couldn’t think about that. Their entire town being destroyed by the invaders was likely but not certain whereas this marriage ruining Yuuko’s life was a certainty.

“Yuuko, I’m sure things will be alright.” Earl Celestino had left them alone to go introduce their dancer troupe to The Crown Prince and his ‘court,’ if you could even call it that. From what Yuuri had heard it was more a collection of the kids of nobles who would one day make up The Crown Prince’s — well he’d be king then — court.

He hated the thought of dancing in front of these people and having them judge him. He wasn’t completely comfortable with the amount of bare skin that showed from the outfits they wore, especially since he wasn’t as skinny as he knew was fashionable now. His parents talked about how it used to be that being skinny was the fashion of only the poor but when King Yakov took power he did a much better job of distributing food so nobody was hungry. Once people had enough food, skinny was in. Yuuri and his family, along with a lot of Hasetsu, found that once they had plenty of food they gained weight easily, which Yuuri’s parents didn’t seem to mind but now Yuuri wasn’t so sure he agreed. He knew they’d judge him for his weight and he really didn’t ask for that.

“Yuuri?” Yuuko was looking at Yuuri worriedly now and he smiled at her.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking too hard again, aren’t you?” Yuuri tried to defend himself but she just shook her head. “You’re going to do great. I mean, who knows, maybe you’ll catch The Prince’s eye more than me.”

She laughed but that gave Yuuri an idea. It was a bad idea but it was an idea anyway, one that included upstaging not just his fellow background dancer, Minami, but also upstaging the main act.

This was a bad idea and he had no idea what he was doing but...

He knew three things: he loved dogs, he loved dancing, and he’d choose his best friend over his own any day.

---

When they finally stepped out of the bright room where they performed for The Prince, Yuuri let his hands run through his hair as he tried to catch his breath.

He wasn’t going to have a panic attack here.

Except everyone from Hasetsu was looking at him like he’d lost his mind. Well, Yuuko and Minami were looking at him like that. Celestino was looking at him like he’d doomed them all because he had. He wished he could go back in time and hit the past him who decided to make himself the center of attention.

Yuuri found his robe and put it on slowly, taking his glasses out of the pocket they were in and sliding them onto his face. He regretted that choice immediately because now he could clearly see how disappointed Celestino looked and how horrified Minami and Yuuko were.

“Yuuri, what in the world happened out there?” Celestino was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Yuuri lied. “I’m sorry. I knew you should have brought Phichit.”

“Yuuri I–”

“Earl Celestino.” Someone called, cutting the man off as he looked quizzically at the man who called his name.

“Yes?”

“The Crown Prince wants you to return along with him.” He pointed at Yuuri, who suddenly felt faint. What could The Prince want with him?

“Come on, Yuuri,” Celestino said, Yuuko taking Yuuri’s robe and giving him a small smile before pushing him in Celestino’s direction.

What had he done?”

---

Now that he was wearing his glasses, having forgotten to take them off, the room he’d just been in was no longer a blur of bright lights to Yuuri’s eyes. Now that he could see how many people were in this room staring at him, he really wished he’d taken his glasses back off.

Including guards, there were thirteen people in the room. Six of them were guards who didn’t seem interested in Yuuri, which he was glad for. The rest were a mix of future Ladies and Lords of The Crown Prince’s court.

Near the door, Yuuri came through there were three women whispering to each other behind their hands. One had dark hair and one had red hair and they seemed to be very into whatever they were talking about. Yuuri suspected it was him, given how intense their gazes were. The last woman wasn’t whispering to the others but she was looking pointedly at Yuuri while listening to her companions.

Near them was a grumpy looking man who looked a lot like the dark-haired woman. Yuuri couldn’t tell if the grumpy look was directed at him or not but he feared it was.

On the other side of the room, there was a blond who was making a face at Yuuri that made him deeply uncomfortable even if he was glad he obviously didn’t care about Yuuri’s weight.

Near him was a man and woman, the man talking animatedly to the woman next to him, with his voice occasionally raising high enough for her to shush him even though she seemed deeply enthralled by his words. Yuuri couldn’t say for sure the man was talking about him, but he wasn’t looking away from Yuuri so it seemed likely.

By himself was a man with dark hair who was the only person not looking at Yuuri and instead had his eyes on the woman who wasn’t whispering and who was pointedly not looking back at him.

Finally, were the two grand chairs directly in front of Yuuri. On one was the younger prince, who was lounging in a way that was not exactly princely, while looking at Yuuri like he was a fly who he wanted to kill. Next to him was the person who ate up most of Yuuri attention partially because he was the person in charge in this room and partially because he was also the kind of person who drew your eye.

His hair was short, platinum blond and Yuuri guessed it had been cut recently since all the rumors about The Crown Prince talked about his long hair. His eyes were blue and while most of the stories Yuuri had heard talked about how soft and comforting they were, and how beautiful, now they seemed cold and calculating. His gaze was sharp enough that Yuuri was afraid he’d start bleeding from the look alone.

Celestino bowed and Yuuri quickly followed his example, almost tripping as he did. He heard a few giggles move quietly through the room and Yuuri felt his face heat up. This was why he hated doing anything in front of other people. He always managed to screw up and it only made him feel worse about himself than he already did.

“Crown Prince Viktor,” Celestion said, still bowing. “Did we do something to upset you?”

“No, nothing like that.” The Prince was smiling at the two men but when Yuuri glanced up at him he found the smile a disturbingly unhappy sight. Nothing like the warm smile in stories. Even though it was an unhappy and almost cruel smile, Yuuri couldn’t quite disagree with the gossip that said it was breathtakingly beautiful. His mind wandered for a moment as he thought about how much nicer the smile would be if the sharp edge of unhappiness was dulled. “I simply wanted to speak to you both. Please rise.”

Yuuri and Celestino stood up straight, Yuuri wishing he’d left his robe on because when he wasn’t moving this room became very cold.

“You’re from the Hasetsu Region?” He asked and Yuuri had to stop himself from raising an eyebrow. Didn’t he remember where they were from? It had only been a few minutes ago that they were introduced.

“Aah, Hasetsu.” Celestion corrected, doing his best to not sound like he was correcting royalty.

“Hasetsu, of course.” The Crown Prince’s smile became a little vaguer as he waved a hand in front of his face. “And what were you asking us for?”

“Protection, Your Highness. There are enemies approaching from the south and we fear we’ll be overtaken without protection.”

The Prince nodded, before smiling at his younger brother. “Yura, wouldn’t it be fun to have this dancer back for our party later.”

The younger prince glared at Prince Viktor. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Yura, watch your language.” Prince Viktor puffed out his cheeks at his brother, pouting, before turning back to smile at Yuuri and Celestino. “Sorry about him. You know how teenagers are.”

Yuuri felt like there was something a little bit off about The Crown Prince. Like everything he said was said a little too slowly or that his voice was too airy. And on top of that odd feeling, he couldn’t help but be uncomfortable with how un-royal both princes seemed. They both gave off the feeling of two kids playing make-believe instead of real flesh-and-blood royalty.

“It’s of no concern, Your Highness,” Celestino said, though Yuuri could tell he was uncomfortable too.

“I have a party later.” Viktor explained, “But parties are boring without entertainment. That’s why I want your dancer here to return later as that entertainment.” Celestino blinked at The Crown Prince for a beat too long and Prince Viktor’s smile dropped. “Is something the matter with that?”

“No, Your Highness, nothing.” Celestino was quick to say, “I was just not expecting that… request.”

This should have been Yuuko, not Yuuri, and Yuuri knew he was screwed. Yuuko was supposed to get a second audience then charm Prince Viktor, eventually winning his hand. Now Yuuri would be sent instead as a simple amusement for these people then Hasetsu would be doomed.

“Well, it wasn’t a request.” Prince Viktor smiled at Yuuri and, again, there was little happiness in it. This time it looked almost insulting. “I expect to see you tonight. My people will be sure to direct you to the party. You two are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Celestino bowed again and Yuuri followed suit before they both left and Yuuri realized he’d not only said nothing the entire time, but he hadn’t even been introduced.

Read the rest on AO3

[crippledboyfriend]

Hey everyone! I’m back from my fanfiction sabbatical ready to do my longest fanfic ever.

I’m going to start posting on Ao3 first to see how I like it, so you can also read this there.

Trouble in St. Petersburg 

Part 1

Yurio sat on the couch, looking anxious as he scrolled around on his computer.

Yuuri tried to ignore him and give him a bit of space. The boy hadn’t been up for long.

“Viktor still asleep?” asked Yurio. Puma Tiger Scorpion looked at Yuuri with a sneaky expression.

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded. “I’ll wake him up if he’s still lying around for much longer.”

“You don’t need to do that,”

“Yeah, I do,” Yuuri smiled. “I told him I would. Just because it’s our day off doesn’t mean he should sleep all day.”

Yurio looked behind Yuuri nervously, as if something caught his eye. Yuuri looked back and then tried to make eye contact with Yurio again, but he was focused on his computer.

“What was that about?” Yuuri wondered.

As Yuuri turned to leave, Yurio asked,

“He hungover or something?”

“I don’t think so,” smiled Yuuri. He actually liked how often Viktor ended up hungover. On average Viktor would wake up vomiting liquor once a week, and Yuuri would pamper him and take care of his fiancè as if he were sick with something.

“He okay?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri gave an unsure nod.

“Sometimes I worry about that old geezer,” said Yurio, still not looking up. “He makes me wonder if he’s sick…like my grandpa, or my mom.”

“Hey…” Yuuri sat down next to the boy.

“I don’t know why I’m thinking about it more than usual,” Yurio spoke quickly. “Just kind of woke up like it.”

���That happens to me, too, sometimes.” Yuuri admitted.

“It just spirals out of control,” said Yurio. “And when I get too stressed out, it’s hard to hear and see, like that’s a coping method that makes things any easier.” Yurio swore in Russian.

“Um, could you tell me a little more about that?” Yuuri asked curiously, feeling like he was getting closer to actually being able to help the blonde with his problems.

“No,” Yurio said simply. “Maybe another time. But—“

Yuuri patiently waited for Yurio to explain.

“Just…” Yurio struggled to find what to say. “Don’t bring this up again.”

“You—,” Yuuri sighed, not knowing the words either. “I’ll try to let you come to me.”

Yurio seemed satisfied with that, so Yuuri excused himself to get some water. He was a bit more anxious now, too.

“Maybe I should get Viktor to talk to him more about what’s been going on,” Yuuri wondered. “He might not say anything unless he absolutely has to.” Viktor wasn’t quick to explain his problems to Yuuri, either. Yuuri didn’t know what was going on for a while, and struggled to piece it together through hints. After seeing Viktor as perfect for so long, Yuuri was a bit oblivious, and something always seemed to distract them when Viktor was about to open up.

But one night, when Viktor was particularly miserable, they did start a dialogue about it. Viktor’s back ached, and he kept making Yuuri get up to bring more alcohol to their bedroom. Yuuri decided to confront him, and said,

“Hey, Viktor? I’d like to see how you feel sober next time you think you’re going to spend the night in a lot of pain. Just to see what would happen,”

Getting upset, Viktor looked down with his beautiful cyan eyes.

“No, my Yuuri, something’s wrong and it absolutely can’t be fixed by staying sober.”

Yuuri ran to fill up Viktor’s glass.

As he handed it back to him, he sat down and stroked Viktor’s cheek.

“Why do you say that?” Yuuri asked, his heart nervously thumping.

“I’ve tried a lot of things to see if they could make me feel better,” Viktor promised. “It’s not easy for me to admit to myself I can’t do things like I used to anymore. But it’s not as simple as just not drinking or getting more exercise.”

“But maybe there’s something you haven’t thought of,” suggested Yuuri. “I want to help.”

“Believe me, I want to be just how I used to be, too.” Viktor promised.

“So, if natural things don’t work and acting as healthy as you can doesn’t either…” Yuuri’s expression looked dark. “Then what do you think makes some days so hard for you?”

“I’m getting old,”

“You’re not that old, Viktor,” Yuuri insisted. “Really. You’re not some teenager who does z-spirals anymore, and maybe you’re not able to compete anymore, but this? This isn’t normal.”

“Well, I’ve had some major injuries in my career, Yuuri —“

“Yes, and I get that I don’t have much experience with that,” Yuuri admitted. “I’ve been lucky. But you shouldn’t be doing worse like this right after you retire.”

“Well,” Viktor tried to explain. “It was actually very hard to finish my last season. I was in horrible pain. I just powered through it. Like I do plenty of times when we go out sight-seeing or I help you and Yurochka with your routines out on the ice, да?”

“But tonight for example…” Yuuri started. “How do you feel compared to practicing last season?”

“Not as bad, because I’m resting,” said Viktor. “You’ve said yourself that I can ask you to do things so —“

“Yes, yes, of course that’s still true,” Yuuri started to worry that his explanation was coming off the wrong way. “But just so we’re on the same page about how you’re doing, imagine if you were out on the ice practising for the Grand Prix Final. How would your back feel compared to doing the same thing last season?”

“Well, there are a lot of factors involved in a scenario like that. I haven’t used my muscles that way in a while,” said Viktor. “But, I guess that my back is more sensitive. And I’ve wanted to put up with it less because it’s not getting any better.”

“Exactly,” said Yuuri. “You’re not healing right.”

“My back healed normally!” Viktor insisted. “The doctor said so. Don’t worry, my love. You worry so much and think things are worse than you are.”

“Well…” Yuuri almost let Viktor trick him. “No, no, I’m not just worrying! You’re in a lot of pain!”

“I’m in a normal amount for what happened,”

“No, no, I don’t think you are,” Yuuri argued. “This shouldn’t be this bad for this long if it healed normally.”

“Yuuri, are you sure you know what you’re talking about?” asked Viktor. “Just relax with me. We can just accept this. I’ve healed as best as I can.”

“I think you need a second opinion,” said Yuuri. “At the very least…I don’t think a Japanese doctor would say that.”

“My doctor’s very professional, Yuuri,” said Viktor. “I know my country isn’t as fancy as yours, but St. Petersburg is not really that different at all.”

“I’m just scared,” said Yuuri. “Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about, but you’re not happy like this, and I can’t help but think that there’s something we could do, or at worst a reason why you’re feeling so horrible.”

“I really don’t think I need to put myself through another appointment and more tests,” Viktor explained with a frown, trying to tug at Yuuri’s heartstrings. “I hate going to the doctor.”

“Viktor, I understand, I hate going, too, and it makes me miserable to know how badly you need another checkup.” Yuuri was getting upset. Viktor had done the opposite of what he wanted when eliciting sympathy from his sweet fiancè.

“But, I think things will be much worse if we let whatever’s wrong go untreated.” Yuuri told his lover. “I’m sorry, but something needs to be done for you. I’ll do whatever I can to make it more comfortable. I just really think that it would be worth it to get another doctor’s opinion.”

“Yuuri, it’s not that bad, it…” Viktor looked in Yuuri’s eyes. “It. It could be worse. But yes. Maybe something not so obvious went wrong with the healing process.”

“Right, I’m not saying the doctor made a horrible decision, your scar looks fine and you look beautiful,” rambled Yuuri. “But maybe there’s another small surgery that could stop these bad nights from happening, or some medicine. And if you’re getting sick, maybe we could catch it early and stop it before it’s too late.”

“Alright,” Viktor gave Yuuri a quick peck on the cheek. “Would it make you feel better if we tried to arrange this with your Japanese doctor you speak so highly of?”

“No, we can go to a hospital in St. Petersburg.” Yuuri leaned into Viktor. “I just want to make sure you’re in good hands. If they don’t do everything I’d expect in a Russian hospital, we could make some requests and figure it out from there.”

“I’ll start looking for a new doctor tomorrow,” Viktor promised. “What all would you like them to do?”

“Oh, just normal stuff,” said Yuuri. “I’ll have to think about it… But, I’ll just point it out if they seem to miss something, like if they don’t want to do scans of your back, or, I don’t know…”

“You research this beforehand, too, да?” Viktor said as he finished his drink. “That way I’ll be able to ask for everything you want done.”

“Yeah, of course. I need to read up on what should be done to troubleshoot when you think your doctor might not have noticed something in sport injuries like that, and minor complications that could’ve been glossed over in surgery… God, I need to hurry up and get fluent in Russian. This is all so much harder with how I’m not going to be able to understand a word the doctor says.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor narrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t think you’re coming with me to my examination, do you?”

“Of course I’m coming,” said Yuuri.

“Yuuri. People don’t take kindly to couples like us here. I can take you to the rink’s doctor as an assistant coach, especially because you don’t speak the language, but there’s no reason for a man to go watched me get poked at,”

“I don’t care what they think,”

“You should,” said Viktor. “Here, you should. You are going to practise that day like you always do.”

“Viktor, I should be able to take you to the doctor. That’s ridiculous.”

“No, love,” Viktor cooed. “It is a sin and will stay secret.”

“Viktor, they’ve got to know you’re gay,” Yuuri argued. “It’s obvious.”

“No, it’s not,” said Viktor. “People don’t think we’re among them, and it’s safest to keep it that way. Your innocence is so charming. Hasetsu really is a lovely place.”

[livixbobbiex]

YOI Movie Predictions

Okay so I’ve seen quite a few interesting theories about this. I’m going to take an influence for a few here. Basically, I see three major options, and I’m going to list them from least to most likely not inc: luding a viktuuri wedding as much as we all want it I highly doubt it will happen. For a quick read, skip to number three

1 - least likely) Movie will focus on the rest of the season, following directly from the GPF in Barcelona. In all fairness, I did actually think this was going to be the movie at first. It would definitely give the viewers some great content such as nationals in different countries, Viktor struggling to balance coaching and skating, the two moving to St Petersburg together etc. 

However, I don’t think it’s going to happen. Not only would all the routines and costumes be the same, which isn’t that interesting really to the audience who have seen them all plenty of times. It also wouldn’t perhaps be the best structure for a movie, as it would have to involve very fast paced time jumps. Finally,  Sayo Yamamoto said in an interview she was inspired by episode 10 with an idea, and I don’t see how this really fits with that. 

2) Movie will focus on the Winter Olympics. This I list for a few reasons, and will either become more or less likely when a release date is given. However, based on a few parts of information, such as hearing Kubo was still working on a manuscript etc., and the fact we have no trailer, a release of earlier 2018 seems accurate? That would be from six to eight months, which I feel is around the time needed for a beautifully animated release, plus marketing time and all sorts put into perspective. This would perfectly coincide with the Winter Olympics, much like how season one coincided with the Grand Prix. 

Again, I don’t really see how exactly this would fit into the episode ten inspiration idea, though we do see Viktor pictured with an Olympic medal within the episode, so it could be that?

3 - most likely) Movie will be Viktor central including a backstory in flashback form mixed with real time drama. Now hear me out here, because I’ve convinced myself this is what’s going to happen. This would perfectly fit with Yamamoto’s reveal that she was inspired by episode ten. 

Why? It’s the only episode narrated by Viktor. And fully focuses on:

“I’ve been neglecting both for almost twenty years.” 

As a character with very little back story other than ‘by age sixteen he was on top of the world’, it’s definitely mysterious. We know nothing about Viktor before the age of twenty seven, other than he’s a good skater and likes poodles. In contrast, we’ve had enough clips here and there from Yuuri and Yurio to at least piece together a good idea of their pasts. 

Another thing we get is 

I made a whole post ages ago explaining that the centre medal is from the 2006 Winter Olympics. Other than that, the others aren’t really year specific, and nothing we didn’t already know Viktor had won. 

So, surely, this episode could easily inspire questions into what exactly was Viktor’s life. 

This next section is entirely speculation, but this is what I could see the plot being 

Viktor and Yuuri are in their apartment in St Petersburg as talk - possibly have an argument about something 

Viktor leaves the apartment and starts to wander around St Petersburg (which was visited by Kubo and others recently) 

As he walks around, certain sights trigger off memories of his past, and backstory is revealed 

These backstory flashbacks are mashed up with thoughts of Yuuri and little segments like that too 

Perhaps at some point he visits the practice rink, and we get a few interactions with the other skaters, see how they’re doing  

(how cool would it be to see Viktor imagining he’s skating with past, younger versions of himself or something???) 

Eventually he returns home and he and Yuuri sort out whatever they were talking about, and we’re reminded that they’re soulmates 

My only query would be ‘is it enough skating?’, but honestly, I think it could be. We’d have younger!Viktor skating, maybe a few recounts of past competitions. They could even include Yuuri when he flopped at Sochi. 

But that’s just a theory, a yoi theory... we’ll see soon enough if I was right or wrong 

[fanficgalore]

Viktuuri #60

Bittersweet Dissonance [Fluff/Angst] Victor's attention is swayed to the gorgeous violinist playing in the park across from the rink. Yuuri is baffled by the kind actions of the attractive figure skater. In the meantime, both learn to open up to each other, and their lives finally take a turn for the better.

You think my bruised knees are sort of pretty [Fluff] He’s not entirely sure how long they stay there, staring awkwardly at each other, but it’s long enough that Yuuri feels compelled to break the silence, which never ends well.

“You’re shorter than I thought,” he blurts out.

At the same time, Viktor suddenly says, “I like your knees.”

“…thanks,” Yuuri says after an awkward pause.

—In which Yuuri gets drunk at a con, earns the nickname Cake Boy, and promptly forgets all about it.

How does a moment last forever? [Angst/Fluff] Wherein Yuuri is an oblivious Beauty in Denial, Viktor is a much better version of Gaston (who needs love), and Yurio is their poor misunderstood angry son (who ALSO needs love).As you can see, dear reader, this is nothing but a mere twisted version of a tale as old as time.

If this city will bloom [Fluff/Angst] “Viktor, do you know what cherry blossoms mean?” “What they mean?” Viktor tilts his head, surprised at the sudden question. “They can mean beauty. Or a good education. Cherry blossoms generally bloom around the time the new school year starts.” Yuuri’s eyes are unwavering on Viktor, and the colors shift in the dark irises again. “But they also mean impermanence.” Impermanence -- transient. Not lasting forever. The word sends a ripple of fear through Viktor.

(Or, the story where Viktor accidentally brings home a cherry blossom spirit from Japan, and his life and heart are turned upside-down.)

I can be your devil or your angel, baby [Fluff] Yuuri Katsuki didn’t ask for any of this, and he’s starting to question all of his life choices that lead up to this cursed moment.

Just hold on (We’re going home) [Angst/Fluff] Where Yuuri remembers the banquet, Viktor forgets, and Yakov Feltsman has his own plans. “I’ve been made aware of your recent break with Celestino Cialdini, and would like to offer you a trial period where you train under me, in St. Petersburg. There are only three conditions: you will board with another one of my students, you will take ballet with Madame Baranovskaya, and you will help me coach Yuri Plisetsky, who refuses to listen to my criticisms of his spins.” Yakov nods at this point, leans forwards and looks Yuuri in the eye. “I will charge no coaching fees.” With a deal like that, even if it means he has to face Viktor again, Yuuri has no choice but to agree.

The return of the little piggy [Angst/Fluff] Everybody had their regrets in college.For the students, it was making fun of Katsuki Yuuri.

For Yuuri, it was letting himself become too stupid.

For Viktor, it was not doing anything.

_-_

Once there was a boy named Katsuki Yuuri, who was shy, loved to make clothes, had adorable smiles and was fatter than the usual average human being. Unfortunately for him, apparently being chubby wasn't all that accepted in the norm back then. After numerous accounts of bullying, Katsuki Yuuri disappears for good.

Now years later, there is now a man only known as Y.K. Fashion tyrant, multimillionaire, professional cold-stare giver... and is trying his ultimate best to run away from his dark past, until a certain silver haired CEO of a certain rival company who went to the same certain college he went to back then decides to flat out entangle their fates together. Do both of them have anything to say for it? Sadly, no. No they don't.

(Fashion & Couture AU)

You are the best thing that’s ever been mine [WIP - Fluff/Angst] Wherein famous actors Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov are forced to fake a relationship for mere reasons such as fame, money, and for teenage girls to make thesis long rants about them on Tumblr. A pact is made, then things snowball into a complete mess, and ya'll already get the idea where this is going...

The structure of trust [WIP - Angst/Fluff] After a mission went horribly wrong, ex-CIA agent Yuuri Katsuki needed a career change, and Private Security was recommended by his former boss, Celestino Cialdini. Now trained as a bodyguard, Yuuri wants to overcome his past mistake and planned to take on his first assignment with confidence.

When he heard that famous figure skating coach Yakov Feltsman had received multiple threats over the coming months and was the client to his first assignment, he was thankful that he hadn’t been assigned to bodyguard the coach.

Yet, he never imagined he’d be hired as Victor Nikiforov’s bodyguard.

Baby, I’m preying on you tonight [WIP - Fluff/Angst] Yuuri and Phichit registered and named the pet shop when they were drunk. They didn’t exactly expect it to become the most popular pet shop in Seattle. (It was only supposed to be a front to fund Phichit’s (undercover) animal rescue missions.) Enter Viktor Nikiforov, the man with the pink Cadillac and the giant brown poodle (that's stolen Yuuri's heart), and Yuuri might have lost his mind, because apparently he keeps flirting with a client – and he never even notices.

For the record [Angst/Fluff] FOR THE RECORD by Viktor Nikiforov What it takes to craft an Olympic Champion, and what it takes to be one.Or: Viktor Nikiforov, sports journalist and retired figure skater, interviews Olympic Champion Yuuri Katsuki for an exclusive piece.

The ties that bind [Fluff/Angst] The first time Viktor saw Yuri Plisetsky was by pure chance at a private rink in Moscow, skating for his dedushka. He thought they would never meet again but it seemed he was lucky in life.

“Papochka!” Yuri called out and Viktor swore his heart stopped beating.

Yuri hadn’t addressed him as atsets, heck, he didn’t even call him papa! Yuri said papochka. Papochka! It was a more affectionate, almost cutesy way of calling your papa and it was quickly turning to be Viktor’s favourite word. Did Yuri know that Viktor was somehow his father?

Then Yuri started dashing towards Viktor and all his earlier doubts regarding Yuri had been wiped clean from his mind. Viktor immediately darted off and all that was running through his mind at the time was Yuri, Yuri, my son, Yuri! Viktor had waited to hold this boy in his arms, wanting to tell him how proud he was and how much he had grown. Viktor decided he didn’t want to waste any more time being separated from his Yuri.

His little boy, Yuri.

Or the single dad feat. ballet AU I've always wanted to write that no one asked for.

[mhalachai]

Sex Maniac (a Yuri!! On Ice ficlette)

summary: Katsuki Yuuri, Grand Prix silver medalist and a sorry example of a human being, was seventy percent sure sure that sleeping with Viktor Nikiforov had turned him into a sex maniac.

(just to clarify expectations, there is no actual sex in this piece entitled “Sex Manic”)

also, on AO3.

Yuuri squinted at the clock on Viktor’s nightstand. Just past two in the morning, and here Yuuri was, wide awake in Viktor’s toasty-warm bed, wrapped up in Viktor’s strong arms, and more than halfway to a panic attack.

He closed his eyes. He’d given up trying to sleep an hour ago, but at this point, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to get his head to stop churning with the ever-lingering fear that Viktor was going to wake up and find out.

Katsuki Yuuri, Grand Prix silver medalist and a sorry example of a human being, was seventy percent sure sure that sleeping with Viktor Nikiforov had turned him into a sex maniac.

It wasn’t that Yuuri had been a virgin before he met Viktor… well, okay, yes, technically he had been a virgin, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know things, or had even tried a few things… But that didn’t matter, because after they started sleeping together, Viktor had very gleefully and thoroughly taken Yuuri’s virginity in every way possible.

And that was the problem. With every night Yuuri spent in Viktor’s bed, Yuuri needed Viktor more. Viktor knew how to kiss him, how to touch and caress him until every cell in Yuuri’s body was singing with pleasure, how to whisper sweet words of love in Yuuri’s ear until Yuuri came apart in Viktor’s embrace.

During the day, at skating practice or on any of the many tasks that fell to them daily, first in Hasetsu and then later after they moved to St. Petersburg, they touched and exchanged endearments often (too often, according to Yurio). But once they were home, with Makkachin walked and fed and the dinner dishes done, Yuuri fell into Viktor’s bed and wouldn’t come up for air until both he and Viktor were completely satiated.

Oftentimes, they’d go back down for another round. Or two. Or, one memorable evening when it was snowing outside, three more times.

Lately, after Nationals and in the run-up to the European Championships, Viktor had been making jokes about how Yakov would be annoyed with Viktor for all his ‘extra’ cardio training. Two days before, Viktor had suggested raw oysters for dinner, telling Yuuri that he had to be sure to keep his strength up. And that night at dinner, Viktor had been ravenous, wondering out loud if increasing his protein intake would help his stamina.

Yuuri replayed the night’s pre-bed conversation in his head, wondering if Viktor was trying to hint to Yuuri that the sex was too much. Was it? Was having sex every night a normal thing? A lot of the magazines and websites that Yuuri had read over the years (porn and not porn) had made it seem like that’s what men wanted, sex all the time.

But lately, Viktor seemed tired, although he usually perked right back up when Yuuri as entered the room.

But… Yuuri took a deep breath. What if Yuuri was… abnormal? What if it wasn’t normal to have sex every night, or especially twice or three times a night? What if Viktor was just humouring Yuuri? What would happen when Viktor got tired of Yuuri’s insatiable appetites?

This was all that stupid website’s fault, Yuuri thought miserably as he burrowed down beside Viktor. Normally websites asked if the reader was having enough sex. This one had asked if the reader was having too much sex, and called it all kinds of terrible things. Yuuri could still see the English letters spelling out “Sex Maniac” in large red font whenever he closed his eyes.

A thought crossed Yuuri’s mind, and he moaned in humiliated embarrassment. He could just imagine the headlines in all the sports blogs.

Nikiforov’s Dick Turns Katsuki Into Pervert!

Katsuki Falls to Last Place in 4CCs Due To Sexual Exhaustion!

Once Japan’s Pride, Katsuki Ends Career in Disgrace Following Sex Addiction!

Yuuri rolled over, burying his face in the pillows. He was a national disgrace. He would never be able to go home to face his family. He would have to spend the rest of his days alone, sadly jerking off to old pictures of Viktor.

He wondered if he could get Mari to send him all his old posters without her asking why.

She’d probably figure it out, anyway.

“Yuuri?”

Viktor’s voice, sleep-slurred, flowed like honey into the darkened room. Yuuri’s body turned towards Viktor of its own accord, seeking warm skin and strong arms. “Go back to sleep,” Yuuri whispered.

“No,” Viktor grumbled, wrapping his arms around Yuuri. “I like it better when I’m awake with you.”

Viktor’s lips touched Yuuri’s cheek, his hands skimming over Yuuri’s body, and Yuuri wasn’t even surprised at how he arched into Viktor’s touch. He gasped when Viktor’s hand curled down over his ass, fingers playing along the sensitive skin where his buttcheek met his thigh.

“My love,” Viktor murmured, kissing down Yuuri’s throat. “So perfect.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri gasped. Words were hard to focus on when Viktor was touching all the special places on Yuuri’s body. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Incredibly.” Viktor’s mouth travelled along Yuuri’s shoulder. “Such magnificence are you, my love, to pull me from my slumber.”

“Viktor, wait.”

Viktor went still, then pulled off Yuuri. Yuuri lay on the bed, wishing he could melt into a puddle, far away from Viktor and everything. The lamp switched on, and Viktor was leaning over Yuuri, blinking hard. “Yuuri,” Viktor said, his voice having shed any sign of exhaustion. “Are you okay?”

Yuuri pressed his hands over his eyes. “Everything’s fine!” he said. It would have sounded more convincing if his voice hadn’t squeaked up an octave.

“Were you still sleeping?” Viktor asked. Yuuri moved his hands to see so much naked worry in Viktor’s eyes. “I am so sorry, solnyshko.”

Yuuri could feel the blood rushing to his face. “No, it wasn't—” He took another breath and tried again. “I was awake.”

“Oh.” Viktor slid down so he was lying beside Yuuri, close but not touching. “What is wrong?”

Yuuri wondered if it was possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. “Nothing,” he lied, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh,” Viktor said again. He didn’t move, but Yuuri could somehow feel him pulling away. “That is good.” A long pause. “But if there was something, you could tell me.”

Yuuri, who apparently had no sense of self-preservation, shook his head. “You… I can’t tell you.”

“Yuuri.” Viktor laid his fingers on Yuuri’s arm, the most gentle of touches, and it pulled Yuuri around to look at Viktor. The man was exhausted, Yuuri could see in the dark circles under his eyes, the way sleep pulled at him even now. “You can tell me anything, if it is about you.”

Yuuri stared at Viktor. Everything felt like it was falling apart, and Viktor was still there, thinking Yuuri was normal.

That was just proof that Viktor didn’t know everything, after all.

“It's…” Yuuri started, then stopped as he rolled onto his side, facing Viktor. Viktor let his hand rest against Yuuri’s shoulder. “I think…”

“Yes,” Viktor prompted when the words got stuck in Yuuri’s throat. “What bothers you, my love?”

Yuuri took in a deep breath. “I-think-I’m-a-sex-maniac,” he blurted out in a rush, almost dizzy with humiliation.

Viktor blinked at him. Then he blinked again. “Yuuri,” he said cautiously. “Can you say that again? My English, it is poor at this time of night.”

“I think…” Yuuri took a moment to press his hand over his eyes again. This was even more humiliating than Yuuri had feared. “I said. I think I’m a sex maniac.”

“Oh.” Viktor blinked a few more times, but he said nothing else.

Yuuri had never seen Viktor at a loss for words. “Um.”

“No, it's…” Viktor blinked even more. “It… I… Why?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri nearly wailed, turning his head into the pillow. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Do you…” There was something wrong in Viktor’s voice. “Am I not enough for you?”

Yuuri sat up so fast his back twinged warningly. “What?” he said in shock. “What? Viktor, no!”

Viktor also sat up, the pale sheets spilling off his body. “What you say, I know the words,” and even Viktor was flustered now, something Yuuri would never have thought to see. “I know people with sex addiction, it is a very bad thing, much trouble does it bring in their lives.”

Yuuri wrapped his hands in the sheet, twisting the fabric until the pressure against his fingers nearly hurt. “Oh,” he said miserably.

“And they…” Viktor rubbed his hands over his face. “They would have sex with anyone, anywhere, would do anything. Much like alcoholics would do nearly anything for drink.”

“No, it’s not that!” Yuuri hastened to say. “No! I don’t want to have sex with anyone else!”

Viktor pushed his hair back out of his eyes. On top of his exhaustion, he looked so very confused. “But Yuuri, you said…”

“It’s you!” Yuuri exclaimed. “All I want to do is have sex with you!”

“Me,” Viktor repeated.

“Yes, you!” Yuuri waved his hands. “That’s the problem! All I want to do is be with you! When I’m at the rink, when I’m in the grocery store, when you send me on those stupid five-k runs, all the time!”

Viktor was just staring at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Yuuri sat back. “I know this isn’t want you want from me, I’m terrible, but I don’t want you to think that I…” He stopped talking, because it was obvious that Viktor was no longer paying him any attention.

Viktor was laughing.

And not just any laugh; this was a laugh so deep that Viktor’s body was shaking with it, closing his eyes, sending him onto the bed and rolling around in his mirth.

“Viktor?”

Viktor opened his eyes, pointed at Yuuri, and dissolved into laughter again.

“Viktor, this isn’t funny!”

“Oh, it is!” Viktor managed to say. He shook with a few more guffaws, before reaching for Yuuri’s hand. “Oh, my beautiful man, stop looking so sour at me.”

“This isn’t funny!” Yuuri said again, feeling somewhat affronted. “I’m serious! This is a problem!”

“It is a problem how much you desire me?” Viktor tugged at Yuuri’s hand until Yuuri lay down, half on top of Viktor. The man’s skin was slightly cool from the bedroom’s chill, and it made Yuuri want to cuddle him until he was warm and safe and sleepy again.

“Yes,” Yuuri grumbled against Viktor’s throat.

“Oh, Yuuri, you scared me so.” Viktor kissed Yuuri’s forehead, his hand curling around the back of Yuuri’s head. The simple gesture calmed Yuuri, pulling him into the safety and security he felt so often in Viktor’s embrace. “And here you are, so much in love with me that you worry at night.”

“It’s not love,” Yuuri objected. “Love is… different. It’s supposed to be more… I’m not sure, but less about sex.”

Viktor pulled the sheet over them, then reached for the blanket. The sudden warmth was almost like sinking into the hot springs, and Yuuri sighed. “There are many kinds of love,” Viktor murmured. “When I was a young man, I read about all of them, and many nights I lay awake wishing for such love.”

Yuuri put his hand on Viktor’s chest. “What kinds of love do Russians have?” he asked quietly.

“Many. There is the love between parents and children, and love between siblings, and friends, of course, but between lovers, there are more kinds of love than there are colours in the rainbow.”

“Like what?” Yuuri pressed.

“There is a carnal love,” Viktor said. “Physical desire. It is that which makes me look at you sometimes and wonder if I will explode from needing you so much.”

“That's….” Yuuri rubbed a circle on Viktor’s skin. “That one. That’s me when I look at you.” He cleared his throat. “I understand that one.”

“And there is an admiring love,” Viktor went on. “When I see you skate, see your dedication, how you make music with your body, I admire everything about you and want to be with you and make you stronger.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said softly.

“And there is more,” Viktor said. “When you smile at me, or when you are making funny faces at Makkachin, or you see new things to make you happy, I am so full of love for you that it is like you are my whole world, and I want to be with you forever and always.”

Yuuri turned his head to kiss Viktor’s shoulder. “I want that too,” he whispered.

“Then.” Viktor reached over to turn out the lamp, plunging the room again into darkness. “Then why do you think you are a sex maniac?”

Yuuri groaned. “Because I want you too much!” he said. “Is it normal, what we do?”

“Who wants to be normal in bed?” Viktor asked, honestly puzzled. “I like what we do, it is so inventive and new. I have no complaints.”

“Neither do I, but…” Yuuri wasn’t sure if he was glad the lights were out or not. “Don’t I want you too much?”

Viktor was quiet for a long moment. “Yuuri,” he said finally. “If having sex with the beautiful man you love, as often as we do, is a measure of being a sex maniac, than I’m afraid that most of the competitive skaters had better seek therapy.”

Yuuri scrunched up his face. The less he knew about the sex lives of the skaters he competed against, the better.

“You have not had to live through one of Georgi’s infatuations, yet,” Viktor went on, with the pain of long suffering in his voice. “It is terrible. There is nothing stopping his mouth.”

“Viktor.”

“And Chris! He has calmed so much since he met his young man, but you should have heard what he used to get up to—”

Yuuri stopped Viktor’s words by putting a hand over his mouth. “I get it,” he said, leaning up and taking away his hand. “Figure skaters have a lot of sex.”

“Some of them do,” Viktor agreed. “Others, they wait until they find the right partner.”

“That’s me,” Yuuri whispered, tracing his lips across Viktor’s cheek. “I… I found the perfect partner.”

“Oh, my heart, my Yuuri,” Viktor breathed. “So have I.”

Viktor’s kiss was, as always, perfection. Yuuri sank into the kiss and into Viktor’s embrace in the darkness, reassured somewhat at Viktor’s late-night confession. For so long, Yuuri had admired Viktor from so far away, never dreaming that Viktor would ever even speak to him, let alone love him back. But now, Yuuri had Viktor’s love.

And he wasn’t going to let his own anxieties or worries keep him from loving Viktor back with his entire heart, body and soul.

[totallyexhausted]

Requested from @shipping-it-like-fedex

Yurio groaned and pressed his head against the cold ceramic seat of the toilet. It was disgusting, he knew this, but he felt sick, and his head was beginning to hurt. He closed his eyes for a minute, drowning out the noise from the television outside the door, and focused on his breathing. His stomach churned violently and he thrust his head into the basin only bringing up vulgar tasting saliva. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his grandfather. But instead he was stuck in the Katsuki bathroom, in Japan, training for a useless competition, trying to win Viktor over like a trophy. He sighed loudly, pulling away from the toilet and leaned against the wall behind him. It was Viktor’s fault he was sick, Nyet, it was that piglet’s fault. If that damned Katsudon hadn’t posted his skating video online then Viktor never would have left Russia. And Yurio wouldn’t have to win that Geezer over like some prize. Yurio pushed himself off the floor and walked over to the sink, splashing water on his face, hoping to wash away the sickness. He turned the faucet off and stared at himself in the mirror. His face was paler than usual, and he had bags under his eyes which made him look younger. There was a soft knock at the door and Yurio cringed as Katsudon’s voice echoed through the wood, “Yurio? You okay?” The teenager gripped the sink. He really didn’t want to be here. Between the stress over his grandpa being sick, winning the competition, and the daily lectures he receives from Yakov, not to mention Viktor’s harsh practices, Yurio wasn’t surprised he felt sick. His stomach flipped again and he swallowed, turning the sink on once more to drown out the coughing. Viktor’s practices weren’t terrible, but they weren’t easy. It definitely wasn’t what Yurio had imagined when he agreed to compete against Yuuri. Yurio shuddered, swallowing stiffly as Katsudon knocked again, “Yurio?” “Ah! What the fuck do you want!” Yurio yelled, turning the sink off, and throwing open the door. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth, feeling anger and frustration coursing through his body. Yuuri stood there, fiddling with his hands, panic lacing his voice “I-I’m-” Yurio sneezed, wiping his nose with the bottom of his shirt before glaring back up at Yuuri. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, taking in Yurio’s shaking frame, and pale features. The kid looked sick, which wasn’t surprising considering he started to seem off yesterday evening when they were stuck under the waterfall. But it wasn’t until this morning when Viktor had stated there was something wrong with the boy, that Yuuri had begun to piece it together. “Yurio, if you’re not feeling well, I can-” Yuuri started, scoping the bathroom behind the teenager, looking for any inclination that the kid was sick. “I don’t need to be looked after, alright!” Yurio yelled, slamming his fist against the wall, “I’m not a child!” And yet you’re acting like one, Yurio thought. Yuuri sighed before adjusting his glasses, “Okay, I was just trying to help.” Yurio pushed past Yuuri, slamming him into the wall behind him, “I don’t need any help. Especially from you.” Yuuri turned the light off in the hall as Yurio plopped down on one of the couch cushions in the living room. The teenager pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it, spreading out until he was laying on his back. He muttered something in Russian before asking, “Where’s Viktor anyway?” Yuuri sat down on one of the chairs next to the couch, and started flipping through channels. He glanced down at his watch, “I think he went down to Kachu, or somewhere like that. Why? Did you need something?” Yurio snorted loudly, “What? No, I was just wondering where that Geezer ran off to in case he broke a hip or something.” Yuuri glanced over at the teenager, smirking slightly. Yurio was sprawled out on the couch, flat on his back, with his phone above his face. He scrolled through Instagram nonchalantly, not really paying attention to the pictures he liked, before switching to Tumblr. He sneezed loudly, covering his mouth with his hand before wiping his nose with his sleeve. He sighed as he heard Yuuri say something incoherent from the other chair. He felt his phone slipping, and tried his best to juggle it in one hand while the other covered his mouth again. He let out another sneeze, jerking slightly as his phone slipped from his hand and smacked against his face. He groaned loudly, putting his phone on the armrest behind him and instead turned on his side to face the television in front of him. Yuuri flipped through some more channels before turning on some Japanese sitcom about cats, figuring the teenager would like something he could relate to. He heard shuffling and looked over at the couch again to find Yurio staring intently at the television. He grinned, resting his feet against the table and flipping through his phone. He shook his head, seeing Viktor’s status update from the Yamoka Bar. “What are they saying?” Yuuri looked up, pushing his glasses further up his nose, “What?” Yurio groaned, adjusting his position again until he was on his stomach, one arm hanging off the couch, “God your hearing is worse than that Geezer’s. I said, what are they saying?” Yuuri turned towards the television, pulling his legs on the chair. The characters on the screen were a couple around their mid-twenties. They were having dinner, discussing their evening plans, but the cat kept jumping on the table, meowing loudly. The camera zoomed in on the cat as he continued to meow, knocking things off the table and demanding why his place wasn’t set. Yuuri cleared his throat, “They’re discussing what to do after dinner but the cat keeps jumping up, wanting to know why he isn’t invited.” Yurio snorted, glancing at Yuuri, “The cat can talk in this show?” Yuuri nodded, “Yes, it’s a rather popular show in Japan. It has a lot more depth than the couple. Normally the show focuses around a young woman named Makko, who inherits 12 talking cats from her great uncle after he dies. It’s pretty ironic because she isn’t a cat person, so whenever she tries to do something, one of the cats show up somehow and ruin it.” Yurio laughed softly before breaking out in a coughing fit. Yuuri leaned forward, “Yurio, you sure-” Yurio shot him a glare, “If you ask me again, I swear I will punch you into the next room.” Yuuri didn’t say anything. He leaned back against the chair again, turning back towards the television, biting his lip. His family were out of town for a day or two to advertise the last remaining Hot Spring in Hasetsu, and the upcoming competition. This wouldn’t really bother Yuuri considering they had done it before, but if Yurio was sick or at least coming down with something, Yuuri had hoped his mom would be back before he took a turn.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Yurio jolted awake suddenly aware of three things. First, he was still lying on Katsudon’s uncomfortable couch, except now, there was a blanket draped over him. Second, the room was darker than it had been before and the television was off, which probably meant Yuuri had left the room. And third, he felt utterly miserable. He groaned loudly, curling in on himself as his stomach twisted. He swallowed thickly, feeling the contents in his stomach sloshing around violently. His head was throbbing and he realized he was shivering despite feeling hot and sticky. There was no way in hell he was going to throw up. There was no way he was going to be sick in Hasetsu. He jerked up as his stomach heaved, clasping a hand to his mouth as the world began to spin. He tried standing as his stomach heaved again, but his feet were tangled haphazardly in the blanket and he fell to the ground with a loud thunk. He curled in on himself once more, pressing his burning forehead against the wooden floor, his hand clamped over his mouth while his other arm clutched around his stomach protectively. He shivered slightly as the cold air touched his overheated skin, and shut his eyes as the world began to spin violently underneath him. “Yurio?” Yuuri asked softly, placing a glass of water on a small table, and kneeling besides the trembling teenager. Yurio didn’t answer and he didn’t look up. He was too afraid to. He was too afraid to move because he was sure if he did, if he moved even his head, he’d puke.  He felt a gentle hand on his back as his body lurched forward. He felt the acidic bile rising in his throat as his stomach groaned in desperation, and he swallowed loudly. No. No. NO! You’re not sick. This isn’t happening. Yuuri rubbed the teenager’s back gently, concerned confusion etching across his face as he pulled his hand back. Yurio was covered in sweat. The teenager whimpered loudly, gripping his stomach tighter as his body lurched again. “Okay, Okay, let’s get you to the bathroom,” Yuuri whispered softly, grabbing the boy’s arm, pulling him to his feet slowly. Yurio wanted to shake his head. He wanted to curse Yuuri out; he wanted to tell him he didn’t want to stand; he didn’t want to move. He felt the world shift as everything became upright, and clenched his eyes tighter, breathing shallowly through his nose. Please don’t puke. Not here, not with the piglet next to you! His stomach pitched again, and Yurio lurched forward as vomit filled his mouth. He swallowed continuously, pleading with his body not to throw up. He leaned against Yuuri, surprised with how cool he felt against his overheated skin. Yuuri put his arm around Yurio’s waist, resting it gently on the teenager’s stomach, and started walking towards the bathroom. He bit his lip, looking back down at the Russian Punk. Yurio’s face was plastered in sweat; he still had one hand over his mouth, the other wrapped around his stomach gently. Even with his eyes closed, Yuuri could see the distress and pain etched across the kid’s face. This wasn’t good. Yuuri flipped on the hallway light as Yurio whimpered again, doubling over. “It’s alright Yura, were almost there, just a little further,” Yuuri said softly, hoping the kid could hold out that long because he really didn’t want to clean up a mess. Yurio tried walking straight, he really did, but the nausea coursing through his body was making it hard to concentrate. His head spun again as his stomach cramped violently. He groaned, wishing his grandpa was here, or at least Viktor, someone familiar, someone Russian. His knees buckled and he slammed harshly against Yuuri. Yuuri gasped loudly, adjusting and tightening his grip around the teenager, trying to keep the boy from crumpling to the ground. Yurio’s stomach lurched again as Yuuri’s hand tightened around his midsection. He whimpered as the added pressure brought up a huge amount of vomit, drowning his mouth, and causing his whole body to pitch forward violently. Yurio retched loudly, the acidic bile tearing at his throat, splattering harshly against the wooden hallway. He clenched his eyes tighter until they hurt, feeling his body begin to shake. He coughed again, trying to slow his breathing, as the remaining warm liquid dripped from his chin slowly. He heard Yuuri talking beside him but tuned him out as his stomach heaved again. He swallowed, shuddering as warmth washed over his already sweating body. Yuuri adjusted his grip slightly, moving his hand towards the teenager’s chest gently, feeling the slimy liquid dripping down his hand and squishing between his toes. He shuddered slightly, disgust and concern coursing through his body. Yuuri tightened his grip as the teenager pitched forward again bringing up another wave of predigested food and stomach acid. He cringed at the thought of cleaning it up and swallowed, trying his best to keep his stomach intact. God knows, he wasn’t a stranger to vomit, having dealt with his fair share during his anxiety attacks, but it still wasn’t pleasant to clean up at midnight. Yurio let out a groan and Yuuri jerked his head down towards the boy.   Tears fell silently down Yurio’s cheeks and he opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to clear his vision. He swallowed again, crossing both arms over his stomach now, as Yuuri lowered him to the floor gently. He pressed his back against the wall, sliding down until his face touched the icy floor. Yurio cringed as the smell touched his nose, and held his breath for a few moments as another wave of nausea passed over him. He sneezed softly, and gently wiped at the tears that fell from his tired eyes. He didn’t want to be here. He would rather be anywhere else in the world than here. And despite throwing up what seemed like half his body weight, and laying on the ground, his head was still spinning, and he still felt nauseous. He felt something cool on his forehead and blinked groggily to see Yuuri kneeling in front of him. “God Yurio, you’re really sick, huh?” Yuuri said softly, moving his hand from the kid’s forehead to his cheek. He bit his lip again as concern and worry washed over him. He’d never seen Yurio sick before; usually the kid hid any illnesses or injuries until he either ended up passing out on the ice, or lectured from Yakov. And the fact that Yurio hadn’t yelled at Yuuri once, and seemed almost compliant with him being there, caused Yuuri’s anxiety to spike. He ran his fingers through the boy’s hair gently, unsure of what to do. Yuuri had never really taken care of someone before. I mean yeah, he’d cared for his sister once when she was ill, but that was different. He looked around the small hallway, wishing his mom was here, or at least Viktor; hell, he’d even take Yakov, because honestly, he had no idea what to do to make the boy feel better.   Yurio wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and scrubbed angrily at the tears still falling down his cheeks. He felt miserable and all he wanted to do was get out of his sticky wet clothes. He coughed softly before biting the inside of his cheek as tears welled in his eyes again. You’re not going to cry. You’re not going to cry. Yurio’s eyes darted to the vomit puddled behind Yuuri then back towards the Japanese skater kneeling in front of him. Yurio cringed, noticing Yuuri’s shirt and legs were splattered with vomit. He gulped loudly before closing his eyes. Yuuri inhaled quickly, “Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay, no big deal. I’m going to go get some towels to clean this up, okay? And get you a change of clothes, okay?” The kid didn’t reply but Yuuri hadn’t really expected him too. Instead Yurio curled in on himself, pressing his forehead to his knees, hoping the nausea would subside. He heard Yuuri get up followed by loud shuffling from another room as something was being opened. He crossed his arms around his stomach tighter, and welcomingly embraced the darkness that enveloped him. …………………………………………………………………………..

If someone had asked Yuuri a couple days ago how he thought he’d be spending his Friday night; taking care of the Russian Punk wouldn’t have been his answer. But now, Yuuri sat next to the bed, his feet propped up against the mattress, a book pressed firmly in his hands, disregarded. He glanced nervously between the pages, reading the lines but not absorbing its contents. He sighed and put the book on the desk and grabbed his phone, flipping through the contacts and letting his thumb hover over Viktor’s name. It was nearing 2am now, and according to his status Viktor was still checked in at Yamoka Bar. Yurio whimpered slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. Yuuri shifted, putting his phone down and leaning closer to the teenager. He pressed his hand gently against his forehead, sighing, feeling the warmth connecting with his fingers. It’d taken him an hour to clean up the hallway before he managed to carry the teenager to bed. Yurio was quite lite for his age but he was all limbs, which made carrying him a difficult task. Not to mention, Yuuri didn’t want to wake him, so trying to change his shirt was painfully slow. He sighed again, getting up and walking out of the room to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth, wetting it in the sink before grabbing some Tylenol from the medicine cabinet. He returned, sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing the clothe to the boy’s forehead as he began to stir. Yurio opened his eyes slowly to a spinning world. His stomach cramped and he whimpered again as he realized something wet was touching his face. He coughed roughly, peering up to see the Japanese skater sitting on the edge of the bed, “I-I don’t feel well, Katsudon,” he whined. Yuuri folded the clothe in half before pressing once again to the teenager’s forehead, “I know, just try to go back to sleep.” The teenager moaned slightly, shifting to his stomach. The rag against his forehead felt nice, and he wished once more that his grandpa was here. He heard Yuuri sigh, and watched him get up from the bed before reaching a hand out, grabbing his wrist, “P-please, don’t leave. I, uh, I don’t want to be alone…” Yuuri stared down at the teenager before smiling warmly. He climbed over Yurio, sitting next to him with his legs crossed in front of him. Yurio scooted closer, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s thigh, causing the Japanese skater’s face to cloud with worry. He put his hand on the teenager’s back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. Yurio sighed softly as his body began to drift back to sleep. Yuuri bit his lip. He wasn’t used to the Russian Punk being so gentle and it worried him greatly. He continued to rub the boy’s back, hearing his breathing begin to even out, realizing he was asleep. He reached over, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, and turning the light off.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Yuuri wasn’t sure what woke him first. He laid there listening to the soft breeze outside the window and focused on his surroundings. It took him a few seconds to register two things. First, his hand that was resting against Yurio’s back was burning. Second, someone was crying. Yuuri jolted up, flipping the lamp on beside him. Light flooded the tiny room and Yuuri let out a gasp as he glanced down at Yurio. The teenager was pressed against his side, sweat coating his face, drenching his hair, and soaking his clothes. His pace was paler than before except pink hues outlined his cheek’s and he was shivering. He reached for Yuuri, tears flooding down his face. Yuuri pressed his hand against the teenager’s forehead, pulling it back as soon as it touched his skin. He felt panic rising in his chest and tried taking a breath to calm down. The kid was burning.   Yurio let out a loud sob as he reached for Yuuri again. His skin was on fire and his stomach was killing him. The sheets tangled against his body burned against his sweaty skin. He coughed loudly sucking in a ragged breath harshly, “Y-Yuuri-” He cut off as another sob escaped his body. Yuuri jumped off the bed, running into the other room, scrounging for a thermometer, hoping his mom had one in the guest bathroom. He heard the teenager crying from the other room, calling out in Russian, screaming for him, for Viktor, and for his grandfather. He bit his lip, running back, tripping over the rug on the floor. “Yurio, shh, Yurio. It’s okay. Calm down, calm-,” He said, jumping back on the bed. Yurio reached for him again, and Yuuri pulled him closer, the teenager pressed his face against Yuuri’s chest, tears soaking through his shirt. He jammed the thermometer in the kid’s mouth roughly as Yurio cried louder. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Yuuri whispered, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and flipping through it quickly. He found his mom’s number and hit call, waiting impatiently as it continued to ring. He bit his lip again, feeling panic spreading through his body. Yurio clutched at Yuuri’s shirt, pulling it down, mumbling something in Russian through half-shut eyes, and messy tears. His skin hurt, he didn’t feel well, and he wanted Yuuri to make it better. Yuuri cursed loudly as his flipped through his contacts again, dialing Yakov’s number, then Yurio’s grandfather. No one was picking up. Yurio sobbed again as Yuuri threw his phone down on the bed, pulling the thermometer from the boy’s mouth. He cursed again. Yurio’s temperature was at 104.6. That was high, really high. Did he need a Doctor? Did he need a hospital? He sucked in another breath, cradling the boy to his chest. Yurio grasped again, whimpering in Russian as Yuuri tried his best to calm him down. He pulled the boy closer to him, running his hand through his sweat soaked hair, “Yurio, Yuri. I’m so sorry I-I don’t understand. I-” Yurio cried again, repeating the same phrase in Russian, tears streaming down his face. He buried his face in Yuuri’s chest, gripping his shirt tightly, feeling his stomach heave but having nothing left to administer. “Yuri I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Honey, I don’t understand,” Yuuri said, panic etched in his voice. He straightened his glasses and took a shallow breath, feeling his own body beginning to tremble. “Y- Yu-uri,” Yurio cried, “Ta-tasu-kete.”   Yuuri felt his blood run cold as all the air in his lungs left his body. Yurio was pleading with him in broken Japanese now. This was really bad. Yuuri felt like he was choking as Yurio muttered the phrase again. He sucked in a shaky breath, “Okay, it’s okay. I’m going fix it. It’s okay. I’m going to fix.” He ran his fingers through the boy’s hair shakily before grabbing his phone next to him, flipping through his contacts once more, dialing Viktor’s number. He bit his lip, praying to God that the older Russian would pick up. Yurio groaned, muttering in Russian again, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s neck. After the 4th ring, Viktor’s intoxicated voice drifted through the speaker, “Pork Cutlet! I was just talking about you!” There was a loud noise in the background causing Viktor to laugh and someone started shouting. Yurio let out another moan, “Tasukete… Yuuri… Viktor…. Myne plokho.” Yuuri tensed up again, “Vik- Viktor-” “Yuuri, I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” Viktor shouted through the phone. Yuuri sucked in another breath, finding it difficult to breath now. He could hear the noise in the background begin to fade, realizing Viktor must have stepped outside to get away from the drunken crowd. He swallowed again, glancing down at Yurio, who still clung to him desperately. He clutched again at Yuuri’s shirt, choking out another sob and incoherent Russian. The heat enveloping his body was uncomfortable and making it hard to breathe properly. Yurio looked up at Yuuri, pain and fear clouding his face as more tears flooded his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. Yuuri heard Viktor trip over something, laughing softly on the other end and mutter something in Russian, “Okay Yuuri. I can hear you now. I love the Saké, and people, Hasetsu is such a beautiful place, and you-” Yuuri tried to breathe. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a half choked, “Vitya-” He felt the world growing smaller as the air suddenly thinned in the room and he found he couldn’t breathe. His face was heating up and his body was starting to shake as he tried to suck in a breath. His heart pounded wildly as panic flowed through his veins, hearing Yurio pleading again. Yuuri coughed breathlessly, trying to inhale the air surrounding him, fully aware he was on the verge of having an anxiety attack. Viktor’s panicked voice echoed loudly through the phone, “Yuuri! Yuuri! Tell me what’s wrong!” Viktor words were suddenly sober as he sensed the situation, and Yuuri grasped onto every syllable, trying his best to even out his breathing. He couldn’t breathe. God, he couldn’t breathe. Yurio whimpered loudly, breaking out into another coughing fit. Snot was running down his face, mixing with the sweat and tears that covered his face, and he grasped again at Yuuri’s collar, digging his fingers into his neck. “Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, “I need you to breathe. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?” Yuuri nodded, closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, concentrating on Viktor’s voice over the phone. “In and out. Deep breath. Deep breath. Nice and easy.” Yuuri could hear Viktor moving on the other side of the phone and realized he’d left the bar now and was walking somewhere else. Yuuri concentrated on Viktor’s words, he concentrated on listening to him moving on the other side of the phone, picturing him walking past the river, stopping at the bridge. He let out a deep sigh, hearing Viktor do the same. “Now, tell me what’s wrong,” Viktor said gently. Yuuri took another breath, “I’m sorry to bug you, it’s just, it’s Yurio. I’m sorry Viktor, I didn’t know who else to call. I couldn’t get ahold of my mom, or Yurio’s grandfather, I, I just- I don’t know what to do,” Yuuri let out another shaking breath, feeling the teenager shiver against him. He gulped loudly, “He’s really sick Vitya, he’s- his fever’s really high and I don’t know what he wants, he keeps saying something in Russian and, and, I, I don’t speak Russian that well, and I- I,” Yuuri broke off, feeling tears welling in his eyes, and dripping down his face. He hated feeling helpless. He didn’t know what to do to help the teenager cradled in his arms, and he didn’t know Russian well enough to be able to comfort him. “Yuuri, listen to me carefully,” Viktor said softly, his voice low and serious, “Take a deep breath again. In and out, alright?” Viktor paused, “does Yurio recognize you? Does he know who you are?” “Yes- yes, he keeps saying my name- I don’t know-” “Okay, that’s good. When Yurio’s ill sometimes he spikes high fevers, they don’t usually last long but at least he recognizes you this time, that’s good,” Viktor said, trailing off. Yurio groaned again, his grip softening on Yuuri’s shirt causing the Japanese skater to glance down worriedly. Yurio was staring at him, blinking slowly, trying his best to stay awake, silent tears still sliding down his face. Yuuri watched him, afraid to move, afraid he would set the kid off again. “Yuuri? Yuuri, are you still there?” Viktor asked softly. Yuuri nodded before realizing Viktor couldn’t see him, “Y-yeah. I am. I’m here.” “Alright good, listen, I’m going to see if there is a drugstore still open at this time of night. Keep an eye of Yurio’s fever, put a wet clothe on his forehead and try to get him to drink something. I’ll be back at the Hot Spring soon, alright?” Viktor asked quietly.   “O-Okay,” Yuuri gulped. “Will you be okay? Or would you prefer I stay on the phone?” Yuuri looked around the tiny room as Yurio groaned again, his body falling limp in Yuuri’s arms, “I’ll be fine Viktor…. Thank you for picking up, and-” Viktor laughed, “No worries Yuuri, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to take care of the kid, you now.” Yuuri smirked, feeling the tension leaving his body. Viktor knew what to do. Thank God, Viktor knew what to do. And he trusted Viktor. Yuuri sighed loudly, hanging up and easing Yurio down until the kid’s face was pressed softly against the pillow.

…………………………………………………………………………...

Viktor opened the door softly, breathing a sigh of relief as he entered the quiet room. He took his jacket off, setting the plastic bag on the ground and walked quietly over to the bed. He stood there, taking in the room, and laughed slightly. The nightstand table held a half empty bottle of Gatorade, and several disregarded washcloths. Viktor ran his fingers through Yurio’s sweat dried hair, smirking. Yurio groaned slightly as Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, pressing his fingers against the teenager’s cheek tenderly, before running his fingers once more through his hair. The boy’s fever must have broken because he was covered in sweat now, and he felt lukewarm against Viktor’s touch.   Viktor sighed, looking over at Yuuri, who was asleep next to Yurio. Yuuri was laying on his side, one arm under Yurio’s head so the boy’s head was pressed against his shoulder, the other lying gently across the boy’s chest. His face was peaceful despite the dried tearstains still present on his cheeks from earlier. Viktor smiled fondly, reaching over to run his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. He chuckled again, noticing Yuuri’s glasses that were still against to his face, bending at a dangerous angle. The teenager shifted slightly causing Yuuri to stir before opening his eyes slowly. He glanced at the boy making sure he was still asleep before glancing up to see Viktor sitting on the side of the bed. He felt his face heat up, realizing Viktor was watching him, and gently propped himself up, unclasping Yurio’s grasp from his shirt, “Uh, h-hi Vitya,” he whispered. Viktor smiled sadly, running his fingers through Yurio’s hair again, “His fever broke Yuuri.” Yuuri looked surprised, pressing his hand against the teenager’s cheek. He looked back up at Viktor, relief masking his features, “I was so worried. I didn’t know what I was doing.” Viktor smiled again, reaching across Yurio, and running his thumb against Yuuri’s cheek lovingly, “You did a good job Yuuri. Better than I would have… trust me.”

………………………………………………….. Author’s Note:

@shipping-it-like-fedex Hey brobro, I tried. haha. Still have no idea how to open an Ask box! Someone do it for me! I’ll figure it out someday!

Also- Okay sorry guys, I had to end it (I also need to re-watch Yuri On Ice). It was already going on 8 pages and I have SO much to write. Keep the requests coming and I will try to fill them, or suggest someone who might. I still want to update As Cold As Ice. Also, I unfortunately, don’t speak Japanese or Russian (just German/ English), so if my translations are wrong please message me because I would love to know the correct translation. Tasukete- Please. Mnye Plokho- I feel sick. Thanks Guys!

[much--madness]

Fic: Between the Lines [2/4]

Rating: NC17 Pairing: Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov Length: 2328 words Summary: Writer Viktor has writer’s block and decides to enroll in a short fiction workshop where he meets a quiet student named Yuuri Katsuki. A new love story is written with Yuuri as the co-author.

AO3 Link

Part of the Yuuri/Viktor bingo game with @heeysammyjay Our attempt to write more x.x

Their relationship blossomed.

Yuuri Katsuki was actually pretty well know around campus though he didn’t seem to realize it. People smiled at him and gave him greetings while he and Viktor spent time together in and out of class.

Once he warmed up to someone, Yuuri was quite friendly and even a bit playful.

It started as tentative acquaintances but quickly turned into a warm friendship. Their interactions flowed, conversations falling into a steady rhythm of exchanges.

Their conversations first started on general topics, like their class and the assignments assigned to them.

They even started sharing some of the exercises they wrote for class, short little paragraphs on random thoughts. Viktor liked how these little pieces of Yuuri’s creativity told him more about the boy himself. Viktor enjoyed reading the cute little thoughts Yuuri wrote down and Yuuri apparently enjoyed his perspective in writing as well. He found that these little pieces of writing fed the desire he had in getting closer to the Japanese boy.

There was only so much that they wrote for class though, so Viktor eventually asked him about what he had been writing the first day of class.

Yuuri had stammered so much when Viktor asked that the Russian man left it alone, but not without extracting a promise for a future explanation. Apparently the little notebook Yuuri kept tucked beneath his class notebook was his personal writing journal but Viktor was banned from touching it.

“I’ll find out your secret, eventually,” Viktor teased him.

“It’s not a secret,” Yuuri protested with a pout. Then, in a move that surprised Viktor, he dropped his personal notebook onto Viktor’s side of the desk.

Viktor took it as permission and without giving Yuuri the chance to change his mind, eagerly opened it.

Every line on the filled pages were written in kanji.

Viktor pouted, to which Yuuri stuck his tongue out at him.

“I’ll read it to you one day,” Yuuri promised, “Just… not yet, okay?”

It was just as well. Viktor’s curiosity ran high sometimes so this little problem put a stop to that. He would have to just rely on Yuuri to eventually reveal this big secret of his.

He wanted to know everything there was to Yuuri Katsuki. Even with the other student opening up to him, Viktor still found him fascinating. His desire to get better acquainted with him didn’t abate, if anything, it grew stronger. And the reason for it became quite obvious.

Viktor fell in love.

Perhaps he had been in love from the very first time he set eyes on the other boy, but he was more and more certain of his feelings with each passing day. He felt like it was obvious to anyone who looked. He felt like there were hearts floating around his head and that there was a huge sign above his head that simply stated IN LOVE. And if there was, it would surely be obvious with the way he was constantly talking to Yuuri and constantly watching him and… it felt like his whole world had shifted. If there was a sun in his universe, it would be Katsuki Yuuri’s smile.

Yuuri seemed completely oblivious to his feelings even when Viktor flirted with him. Or perhaps it was because Viktor constantly flirted with him that Yuuri thought it was just his personality.

Viktor needed to do something before his unrequited love turned his feelings into bitterness.

They had taken to spending time together, either at the nearby park or a local coffee shop. They hadn’t been to each other’s homes, not yet anyway.

So one day, while Viktor was quietly reading a passage of his own work, he decided it was now or never. He was sitting on the bench, an open notebook on his lap.

Yuuri, tired of sitting all day during class, was standing in front of him watching the birds flit in and out of the trees. At the sound of his voice, Yuuri turned, giving Viktor his undivided attention.

“… he wondered how it would feel to press his lips against hers,” Viktor read, voice steady despite the nervousness he felt. He looked up and found Yuuri’s gaze locked on him. He couldn’t look away but he didn’t need to. It didn’t matter what words were written on the page in his hands. What mattered were the ones in his heart and they came to his lips as easily as breathing.

“To feel his love’s body press against him, feel the warmth seep through.”

Yuuri was entranced, lips parted. He looked so beautiful, with his dark hair falling into his eyes and a pink blush on his face.

“And he wondered, perhaps, if he would be able to feel the beating of life beneath his breast, one heart calling to the other… waiting for an answer…” He trailed off and had nothing else to say.

Apparently, that didn’t matter either. As soon as he stopped speaking, Yuuri leaned over and cupping Viktor’s face in his warm hands, gave him a gentle kiss that was so sweet.

Viktor was instantly mesmerized by the feeling of Yuuri’s soft lips against his that he didn’t even notice the notebook falling to the ground.

The clatter startled Yuuri though.

Yuuri pulled away with a gasp, a mortified look on his face.

“Oh, God,” Yuuri said, horrified. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know why… oh, God!”

He hastily bent down to pick up the fallen book and pushed it into Viktor’s hands. He looked like he was going to flee, embarrassed over his actions and Viktor couldn’t have that.

He quickly stood and grabbed a hold of Yuuri’s shoulders. Viktor tried to look him in the eye but Yuuri refused to meet his gaze so Viktor placed the tip of his finger beneath his chin.

“Look at me, Yuuri,” Viktor urged. He still felt like he was drifting in the clouds from the kiss, but he didn’t want the other boy to have any misconceptions.

Yuuri obeyed and those brown eyes, eyes he was so used to seeing curved in happiness and warmth, were suspiciously wet and miserable.

“Yuuri,” Viktor wanted to explain but for all his expertise in turning words into stories, he was speechless. He couldn’t find the words besides blurting out a phrase he didn’t think was ready to be said.

Instead, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against the other boy’s.

Time felt like it stopped.

Yuuri froze against him, but he didn’t fight to break free. When Viktor started to pull away, Yuuri threw his arms around his neck and kissed him again.

There was no hesitation this time. They seemed to melt together, their bodies pressed close as their lips aligned.

It was soft and sweet, it surpassed everything that Viktor every imagined when he thought of kissing Yuuri. He could feel the beating of Yuuri’s heart against his chest while his own hammered away. He could feel warmth beneath his fingers where his hand cupped Yuuri’s cheek.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces were tinged with warmth. Viktor had a smile so wide that it hurt his cheeks. Yuuri, too, was blushing but he looked incredibly happy and flushed with excitement.

When Viktor took his hand, Yuuri looked at their joined hands. He ducked his head but Viktor could see the elated smile on Yuuri’s face and gave the Japanese boy’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Anyone who looked at them must surely be able to see, maybe not a sign, but surely… the words IN LOVE were obvious above their heads.

Of course, they start dating.

Things were all roses and hearts for the first week, but the workshop kept them busy. For Viktor, his deadlines for his next novel kept him on his toes and he couldn’t spend as much time with Yuuri as he wanted. Or at least, as a responsible adult with deadlines, he couldn’t allow himself to.

Yuuri never asked why some days weren’t good days to visit. He was understanding like that and Viktor greatly appreciated it even when he very badly wanted to ignore his responsibilities and just bask in the new love he found.

The good thing was that Viktor found new inspiration in his writing. The words flowed out of him at an alarming rate and the speed at which he was writing made up for the hellish days of staring blankly at equally blank pages.

He attributed it to meeting Yuuri. Meeting and spending time with his boyfriend wasn’t the cure-all for his writer’s block but it helped tremendously. Being with Yuuri felt like he was rejoining the world, becoming a participant instead of an observer.

He noticed a lot more, cared a lot more to take notice of things and that really helped as a writer. They were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and Viktor found that he utterly loved it.

He missed Yuuri whenever they were apart and always looked forward to the next time they met.

Viktor was incredibly nervous the first time he invited Yuuri over at his apartment. Would Yuuri be expecting sex? He seemed so naive and innocent, did he even have those kinds of feelings for Viktor?

Viktor certainly felt that way about Yuuri and he felt dirty for having such thoughts even when they were dating. But beyond a few gentle closed mouthed kisses and touches above the waist, they hadn’t gone any further than that.

He knew his boyfriend was shy and he worried about pushing Yuuri when he wasn’t ready. He bit his lip as he looked around the tidy living room.

The doggy bed was empty. Yuuri had met Makkachin on one of their days to the park and it was safe to say that Makkachin loved Yuuri just as much as Viktor did. It really warmed his heart to see the two of them get along and he hoped that Yuuri coming over tonight was the first of many.

For now, Makkachin was spending time with his cousin Yurio. Although Yuuri would miss him, Viktor wanted this time alone with his boyfriend.

Just as he finished cleaning up the living room, his phone pinged with a notification.

He expected to see a message from Yuuri but found a notification for a new story from omNomKatsu. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw the rating. NC17.

omNom never wrote NC17. He checked the summary and found that yes, it was a short story about his two favorite characters and seemed very likely to have sex in it.

Viktor bit his lip and wondered if he had enough time to read it before Yuuri came over.

His question was answered when another ping came through, this time with the expected message from his boyfriend.

The story was forgotten as Viktor rushed to tidy up the kitchen. Yuuri wanted to cook his favorite meal, a dish called katsudon. He promised that his family’s recipe was legendary and that once Viktor had a taste, he’d easily fall in love with Yuuri and his amazing cooking skills.

Viktor had just smiled and accepted the challenge. He didn’t bother telling Yuuri that he was already head over heels and being served something made with Yuuri’s loving hands would only have him fall even deeper.

He greeted Yuuri at the door and dropped a kiss on Yuuri’s lips in greeting.

“Viktor,” Yuuri smiled, cheeks tinged pink. “Are you ready for this?”

Viktor’s eyes widened, misunderstanding the innocent statement. He knew Yuuri didn’t mean it as anything sexual, but he couldn’t help the thoughts of being able to hold Yuuri in his arms.

He took a second too long to respond, so he laughed in embarrassment when Yuuri held up the bag of groceries he was carrying.

He held open the door and gave Yuuri space to come in.

“Everyone loves my okaasan’s katsudon,” Yuuri cheerily announced as Viktor led him to the kitchen. He set the ingredients on the counter then seemed to hesitate when he saw it spread out in front of him.

Viktor stood by the sink, smiling as he watched. Yuuri turned to face him and it was clear he was nervous about something.

“This will be my first time cooking for someone,” he confessed with a shy smile. “I hope… I hope Viktor will like it.”

Viktor felt his smile grow wider, softer, as warmth filled his chest. “What’s this, Yuuri?” He teased as he moved closer. He pressed his body against Yuuri’s back, wrapping his arms around the slim waist. “Didn’t you say it would be the best meal I’ll ever have? Where did your conviction go, hmm?”

The teasing and Viktor’s arms had the intended effect. Yuuri’s nervousness seemed to melt away as he relaxed in Viktor’s embrace. The Japanese boy nodded enthusiastically and declared, “It will be, Viktor! Just wait and see.”

Viktor grinned at his enthusiasm and dropped a chaste kiss on Yuuri’s smiling mouth. He was happy to see his boyfriend regain his confidence. Yuuri should never be so shy around him. It made Viktor want to do things to make him lose his composure which led to such dangerous thoughts.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Viktor offered.

“Mm…” Yuuri thought for a moment then said, “Make some rice?”

And so, they worked together to make a delicious meal with Yuuri supervising. He gave Viktor simple, easy tasks, like cutting lettuce for a salad while he prepared the main dish. Viktor didn’t mind at all and took to watching Yuuri work diligently.

When the dish was done, Viktor clapped his hands, impressed. The smell was mouthwatering and the presentation was flawless.

He couldn’t help taking a picture. He’d want it for memories later, the first night Yuuri came over and cooked for him. Then he successfully snuck a picture of Yuuri himself as he was adding rice and pork cutlets to his own plate.

They ate right there on the kitchen table. It was just the right size for something like this, big enough to hold their meals but small enough that it was an intimate affair.

When Viktor took his first bite, Yuuri watched him with anticipation. The pork cutlet was delicious. The fried breadcrumbs were crispy and the meat was tender. The burst of flavor on his tongue from the sauce had Viktor moaning his approval. He was trying to talk before he even swallowed his mouthful, that’s how good it was.

But even better was the look of pure happiness on Yuuri’s face. He hadn’t dared to miss Viktor’s reaction so his own dish was untouched.

“This is amazing, Yuuri!” Viktor praised him enthusiastically. He took another bite, fully savoring the meal with his eyes closed. Then his eyes snapped opened and he called out, “Yuuri!”

“Hmm?” Yuuri made a questioning sound. His own mouth was full now.

“Your katsudon is divine,” Viktor said fervently. “You can’t ever break up with me now. How will I live without your cooking?” He took another bite, giving an exaggerated moan of happiness and said, “I refuse, Yuuri. You’re not allowed to break up with me, ever.”

Yuuri’s brows shot up in surprise but he laughed after Viktor’s outburst. “If you insist,” he blushed.

“I do,” Viktor stated as a matter of fact then he nodded and a serious gleam shone in his eyes. “It can’t be helped then. We’ll simply have to get married.”

Yuuri almost choked. “Viktor!” he stammered, shocked but he was entirely too pleased for his own good. “You… We haven’t even… said the ‘L’ word…” he grumbled.

Viktor leaned forward and took Yuuri’s hand in his. “If that’s your only objection then…” He tilted the boy’s flushed face so that their eyes could meet. “I love you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s lips parted in surprise. He looked stunned, brown eyes soft with emotion. “…Viktor no baka,” Yuuri chided with a smile. “Saying such a thing now just to prove your point…”

But the thing was, Viktor meant it.

“I’ll say it tomorrow too,” Viktor promised wholeheartedly, “And the day after… And next week… next month. I’ll say it when we meet in class, and when you go home. I’ll tell you I love you in my dreams and when you wake up next to me.”

“Next to…” Yuuri trailed off then his eyes grew wide when he realized what Viktor was implying. His face turned so red but Viktor only squeezed his hand before he returned to the meal. Yuuri really was just too cute and entirely loveable. How could Viktor have done anything else but fall hopelessly in love with this boy?

Viktor continued to happily eat his meal. It really was delicious and the fact that Yuuri hadn’t said those three words back to him didn’t phase him. If Yuuri wasn’t ready, he would wait. He was happy enough to be able to say those words to Yuuri. Now that Yuuri was aware, Viktor could say those words without worrying that Yuuri would freak out.

He would wait if Yuuri needed him to.

A soft touch on his hand brought Viktor’s attention back to Yuuri.

He didn’t seem troubled by Viktor’s revelation. He was looking at Viktor, a curious expression on his face. Then his body seemed to relax, some tension falling away from his shoulders.

His eyes were warm with emotion, his touch sent sparks where it met his hand.

“…I love you too, Viktor,” Yuuri told him with a smile.

Notes:

Katsudon - fried pork or chicken cutlet dish (yumyum @.@)

okaasan - Mother

Viktor no baka - essentially calling him stupid, but Yuuri says this in an affectionate way here.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

[radialarch]

god, i’m in the brief stage between fics which i haven’t been in for so long, my brain is not actively eating itself to pieces at this moment, here’s a round of skating recs i’ve been mulling over in the background

- Foundation by prillalar (E | 2207 | Yuuri/Victor)

Victor does Yuuri's makeup before competitions.

ngl, i need approx. ten million fics with victor doing yuuri’s makeup -- all the sexual tension undercut by a kind of domestic intimacy, the possibilities are endless. this fic has both! a slow heat that boils over, and some tender, quiet moments to hang your heart on.

- magpies by winchilsea (T | 2251 | Yuuri/Victor)

Viktor can be brave for Yuuri, he can be so many things, he can be anything, and all Yuuri wants him to be is himself, what does that even mean.

(It rains during Tanabata.)

listen, i -- obviously have a victor nikiforov problem, because basically all i want to read about is the slow process in which victor finds himself again. i like this a lot, set at a moment when he’s still so uneasy in his footing, and the writing here is very quiet and delicate.

- in flesh and bone by csoru (M | 32076 | Yuri Plisetsky-centric)

After recovering from an injury that cut his previous season short, Yuri makes a comeback with a new coach, a new country of residence, and a relationship upgrade. Still: perfection takes effort.

i’m like, disproportionately into stories that lay bare the weird contrast between the aesthetics of figure skating and the brutal reality of it, and this works particularly well for yuri here, who’s never known how to deal with a soft thing in his life. a gorgeous look at yuri plisetsky and his relationships with skating, with love, with everyone.

- get up again by snowdarkred (T | 11260 | Yuuri/Victor)

When Yuuri was drafted by the Detroit Red Wings, it was a dream come true. Years of practice, of hard work, of talking to scouts and agents, of posting his own highlights on Youtube — it all paid off. Sure, he went in the seventh round, surrounded by players who were probably never going to make the show, but Pavel Datsyuk went in the sixth and look at his career. Yuuri was going to make it. He moved all the way across the world for this, competed internationally for this, bled and cried for this. He was going to make it to the NHL.

Yuuri didn't make it.

this is? okay, so as a rule, i’m pretty uninterested in fics where they’re not skaters, but it turns out it’s cool if they’re still top athletes in other sports? um. this is the hockey version, it’s cheerfully fast paced and sure of itself, which, fitting considering the sport. i’ve never watched a single game of hockey! i really enjoyed this fic.

- Champagne is for Winners by anonymous (not rated | 2753 | Yuuri Katsuki/Yuri Plisetsky)

as the author concisely summarizes: [Yuuri Katsuki/Yuri Plisetsky, drunken frottage]. 

hey, a fill from the kinkmeme. yuri’s voice is great, drunk yuuri and a smitten victor at the tail end of the sochi banquet are great, imagine the au where yuuri made it to worlds and yuri corners him to belligerently ask if they can make out some more.

- so this guy walks into a bar... by silvercistern (E | 16096 | Yuuri/Victor)

Instead of talking over their future, two grown-ass, married adults pretend to be strangers in a club.

i’m so into victor & yuuri trying to do sex stuff and being bad at it, look, i don’t know. anyway, this is sort of a story about that, but it’s also a story about yuuri and the worries he has about how he fits into st. petersburg, with victor. and it’s also about how they’re so stupidly into each other, like really, it’s so stupid, how do they fit so well when they’re both such idiots, i need answers.

- Yuuri!!! on the Floor by thehandsingsweapon (not rated | 67392 | Yuuri/Victor)

i said i’d come back to this one! this is the other “still athletes so it’s okay” fic in this list. here they’re all gymnasts, except for victor who’s still a figure skater, which leads to an interesting timeline where we have to pay attention to both the winter and summer olympics.

anyway, i thought for a while about how i wanted to rec this, because the fic opts to ignore word of god (fair, tbh) and treat politics in-universe as that of the real world. and i don’t think it always does so as cleanly as i’d like -- i’m a fan of subtlety in my fiction, and some of the overtly political moments came across pretty heavy-handed. but i liked the fic despite, or maybe because of it. it’s an ambitious story with a lot of heart, and i want to see stories about queerness both ways, okay: the ones where it doesn’t matter at all, and the ones where people fight for it, and get hurt, and live through it, and win.

so i don’t think this is a story for everyone, but it is, nevertheless, a story that i’m glad exists, and maybe that will be true for some other people, too.

[silverfoxsofy]

Incubus AU (CHAPTER 3) (disclaimer: Tumblr saved the last part as one big paragraph. Sorry!)

“HA! You should’ve seen makkachin! He had at least three of them in his mouth!” Viktor laughed, “those kittens were at least the size of my hand,” we both looked toward the happily sleeping dog, snuggled comfortably on my couch.

“Poor makkachin, I wonder how he didn’t get burnt trying to take them out of that house” I contributed.

“Nah, he’s such a smart boy, I knew those kittens would be fine.” Viktor flashed another one of his gentle smiles towards makkachin.

“How long have you had him?” I asked.

Viktor suddenly turned his gaze downward, and chuckled to himself. “Almost my whole life I’d say.”

“Wow! How old is makkachin anyway?”

“Whoa it’s 3 am already?” Viktor cut me off, looking at his watch, almost like he was avoiding answering the question. I chalked it up to him not wanting to talk about it, being as dogs don’t live as long as we do. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind the time.” I choked out. I could tell when Viktor eased his shoulders back, he felt more relaxed. It’s true, the hour was pretty late, but I was enjoying his company. Surprisingly enough, he had taken my mind off of last nights endeavors, and although I hadn’t slept for than 24 hours, I didn’t mind staying up a bit longer. I just really really enjoyed watching him speak. Everything he said sounded so profound and eloquent…

“Oh, I finished my coffee! I’ll -” he gasped.

“Oh I’ll-” we were both cut off by both of us simultaneously getting up from our chairs. The movements were so quick, I hadn’t even noticed he began to walk towards my kitchen. I’m an attempt to kindly stop him, I tripped on one of the legs of my chair. At least, I think I did. I wasn’t too sure, but I was sure of, was that I was fucking falling onto the floor. Welp, there goes my dignity.

“Yuuri!” I heard Viktor yell.

When I opened my eyes, I realized the fall hadn’t hurt as much as I thought. Actually, it didn’t feel like I was on the floor at all. I opened my eyes slowly, and realized viktor was inches away from my face. I gasped, and instantly felt my face get hot. “V-viktor-” I gasped even louder, realizing I’d fallen right on top of him, and I was now straddling him. He looked up at me, straight in the eyes, and I couldn’t help but blush even harder when I realized just how many shades of light blue his eyes were. It was decided, Viktor was the most beautiful man I’d ever met. He cocked his head to the side, and a soft smile spreading wide across his face. “How warm-welcoming of you, Yuuri” his lids lowered, and his smile changed to the same mischievous grin from earlier. Jesus fuck. *** After hurriedly, and embarrassingly getting up off of viktor, after he teased me a bit more, he called it a night, and left with makkachin. I’d never been more mortified in my life. But strangely enough, viktor reacted pretty calmly and I was grateful he left after I couldn’t keep myself from blushing. I looked at the time, 4 am. I had realized that If I was going to have any piece of mind, I was going to solve this succubus problem tonight. Now that viktor was gone, I could go to sleep, and get my plan ready. I’d been thinking about it all day at work. I walked towards my closet, got out the sewing kit my mother provided me when I first moved in, and took out the thick roll of sewing string. After cutting a piece long enough, I tied one end to my lamp light string, and the other I left near my pillow. This plan was going to work. Assuming the succubus was coming back, witch according to all the stories I read online, it was most likely going to happen again. And I was going to be prepared. I snuggled up into bed after leaving my window slightly open, and forced myself to drift off to sleep. I could feel myself losing consciousness, and considered that maybe the succubus would be gone for good this time, and maybe I could really relax. That is, until I felt the familiar sting creep up my thighs, leaving the all too familiar sensual feeling behind after every claw streak. I pretended to be asleep, I wanted to be sure of what I was feeling. I began to feel a warm sensation vibrating in between my thighs, as if someone was breathing right in front of them. And then suddenly, something wet began to drag itself along the the curvatures of my lower abdomen. It was beginning to get hard to keep my composure, as my body betrayed me, and my member began stiffening. I felt a squeeze on my thigh, and decided right then would be my time to move. I sprang up in bed as fast as I could, pulling the string from earlier, I was going to get a good look this time no matter what. As I sat up, my full attention directed towards the end of my bed, I felt some sort of regret for trying to explore the unknown. At the foot of my sheets, some kind of demon like creature stood there, body facing my window, head locked in my direction. I did it. I caught it by surprise. At first, it took a minute for me to believe what I was seeing. The creature looked almost human. But it wasn’t. It’s hair was a silvery white, horns sticking from each side of its head. It was naked, but it’s limbs and middle were charcoal black, and I could tell from where I was sitting it’s claws must have been longer my pinky. It’s face was light and pale, and aside from its pure white irises, they were black as coal. The one thing that caught me off guard however, among the many things I hadn’t expected to see, was the expression on its face, as it stood there, frozen. It looked… scared. No, terrified. Could it have been because it was caught by it’s prey? It finally moved, and by moved, I mean it stumbled back onto my desk, clumsily knocking over some books, it’s nail scratching the wooden legs. Then it did something strange. It reached over nervously trying to pick up my books before they fell. Then… “Uh.. ah… sorry.” It said while scratching the back of it’s head. Then it turned back around, and hurried out my window. I think it’s been 30 minutes so far, but I still can’t get out of my bed. What in the ever loving fuck just happened? And why did it act so… human? And also… WAS THAT A GUY?! *** Morning finally came, and after getting myself some coffee, I decided to inspect the scratches the supposed incubus, incubus since I’m certain that had to have been a male body. The scratches weren’t too deep, but they were proof I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. As I sipped my coffee and walked towards my living room, I realized there was a dog collar half tucked in between my couch cushions. Makkachin? How’d his collar get here? I grabbed the collar and made my way towards my front door. I walked out towards Viktor’s house, and rang his doorbell a few times. I realized that maybe he wasn’t home so I knocked one more time before I’d decide to turn around. To my surprise, the door creaked open itself. Would it be okay if I just, walked in? Would he mind? I could leave the collar here and just be on my way. “Viktor?” I called out, peeking my head head in just a bit. No answer. I put my hand on the doorknob ready to close it, when suddenly two figures walked into view. They were having a conversation, and stopped as soon as they saw me. “Ooooooh! is this the one you were telling me about Vik?” A half naked man-like creature with short blonde hair, who’s lower body looked like he had some kind of green fish tail, clapped his hands together and looked at me admiringly. A… merman? “Oh…. shit…” said the creature standing next to him. I recognized the creature right away. “Hi… um… I can explain!” He shouted nervously, his incredibly dark claws reaching out towards me, then recoiling back, as if he was suddenly embarrassed by them. The hand some merman snickers under his breath, “woops”. I stood there, for a second or two, just before I saw everything go black.

[fifteenleads]

well, he has his moments.

@viktorweek day four: family/friends

Viktor Nikiforov can be both endearing and annoying all at once, but it’s exactly these qualities that have captivated people’s hearts in more ways than one.

(Five moments in Viktor’s life, as told by other people.)

AO3 | stories on (and off) ice

.

i.

Yuri should have known when Viktor shoved the tub of ice cream and kitty treats into his hands.

"Please please please watch Makkachin for me!" the old goof all but pleaded, his hands clasped together like those silly anime girls and his puppy-dog eyes welling up and threatening to spill over any moment. He sure is upfront with his requests, if anything, and Yuri wouldn't be surprised if this sudden favor he's asking has something to do with --

"Yuuri and I are going out on a date tonight! It's the most perfect Valentine's Day ever!"

-- Fucking called it.

It was so obvious at this point, he didn't know why he even bothered.

The large poodle bounding over and tackling him didn't help things, either, and his face is all sticky from the mutt's slobbering saliva, and it's so disgusting as fuck, and Katsudon is now peering in from the doorway, and --

"Fine, already!" Yuri snapped, throwing his hands up in irritation. "I'll keep it until you come back, okay? Just get the hell out of here!"

Katsudon and Viktor couldn't be out the door sooner enough. The teen chased them to the veranda and hollered at them not to be late.

The pair returned at three o'clock in the fucking morning, one very much intoxicated and the other very much covered in - ugh, hickeys.

Really, he didn't know why he even bothered.

  .

  ii.

Yakov should have known when Vitya asked for the rink to be closed off the day after tomorrow.

His student is quite the whimsical man, always doing as he pleases and never (for once!) listening to his sensible coach's sound advice -- not when he decided to add four quads into his program, not when he suddenly dropped his whole skating career to coach Yuuri Katsuki, not when he just-as-suddenly made his comeback, insisting on coaching and competing against said Japanese skater at the same time.

And especially not when he plans on proposing to Katsuki over a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the ice.

"Isn't it a great idea, Yakov?!" Vitya enthused, his eyes practically shining with excitement. "We'll dance together after dinner, and then I'll ask him to marry me!"

Frankly, Yakov thought his protégé could have come up with something better. Still, he has no intention of dashing the younger man's hopes with an honest remark.

"Surely, you prepared very well for this?" he asked instead. "It is quite an ambitious plan, if you ask me."

"Oh no, it's not as grand as yours was," Vitya teased (and Yakov winced because it's true), "but I already have everything down, no worries. All that's left is to pop the question."

He then grinned earnestly, a luminescent shade of powder pink coloring his cheeks. There are times the coach doesn't understand how Viktor Nikiforov can be both endearing and annoying all at once, but it's exactly these qualities that have captivated people's hearts in more ways than one, himself included.

That said, today was the proudest Yakov was yet of his silly (but nonetheless star) student.

And he hated to ruin the moment, but --

"I thought you are both already engaged?"

"Then I'll propose to him again! Yuuri deserves nothing but the best."

-- Katsuki should have married this man years ago.

  .

  iii.

Christophe should have known when Viktor came in wearing a different brand of lip gloss.

(Or rather, a certain someone's lip balm.)

He never thought he'd see the day Viktor would use a cosmetic product other than the expensive ones he owns (and if all those commercial endorsements are of any indication, they are a lot), but he supposed this is what love does to people, especially to those who are tying the knot in a few hours.

Viktor immediately made a beeline to his side and gave him a tight glomp. Chris returned the hug with one of his own, patting his friend's back encouragingly for good measure. "Love the new lips," he commented, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Why, thank you, my friend," Viktor accepted the compliment, smacking his lips playfully. "Mmm, I like strawberry."

"His favorite flavor?"

"I don't think he has a preference," Viktor shrugged absently in thought. "It was actually green mint last time. I'd like to think he likes the Chanel one I usually use the most, though."

"More like he likes the taste of its owner on his lips, if you ask me," Chris suggested with a wink, and caught the small tube Viktor all but chucked at him in embarrassment. He's glad he hasn't lost his Friend Touch.

And because he's such a good friend, he's gonna make sure this hopeless man gets to the altar in one piece. (He doesn't even want to think about how Chulanont is handling poor Yuuri's nerves right now.)

"Your man has good taste," Chris remarked, playing with the long-worn lip balm. It's a cheap brand he sees most women use, probably bought from a downtown supermarket. "Can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out."

Viktor smiled in part-nervousness and part-mischief. "I love to surprise him."

If one weren't listening intently, they might have heard an "I love him" instead. And for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been that.

"Good," Chris nodded approvingly, pocketing the pilfered cosmetic. "Go get dressed. I'll give this back to Chulanont for you." Viktor hummed in thanks and did as he was told.

Halfway out the door, Chris turned back to his friend, who was admiring the plain gold engagement band on his ring finger.

"It will be a lifetime full of surprises," the groom whispered, his voice choking with happiness.

Chris smiled in agreement. "Sounds promising."

And he knew, at that moment, that Viktor will be fine.

(The way Yuuri's eyes widened in recognition as Viktor dipped him into their wedding kiss was absolutely priceless.)

  .

  iv.

Phichit should have known when Viktor clung to him like an overgrown child during practice.

"Haha, what's this?" he asked jokingly as he pulled the older man along the curve. The new not-really brother-in-law is so fun to tease. "Trouble in paradise so soon?"

At once, Viktor's forlorn expression was replaced by one of incredulity. "What? No, of course not!" He still didn't let go of Phichit's arm, though, further tightening his grip instead.

And if the way those pale, manicured nails digged into rich, brown skin is of any indication, Phichit now had a second differential in mind.

He never imagined The Viktor Nikiforov, of all people, to join the legions of victims tormented by his ongoing web serial, but he supposed that that, too, was an accomplishment of its own right. At least his minor from college is paying off well -- and handsomely, too, at a hundred dollars per chapter.

"I warned you, it wouldn't end well," Phichit laughed. "I even spoiled half the story for you."

More like Viktor actually lived through half of it, since it was a fictionalized version of his life and all. But Phichit wouldn't tell him that - not yet.

(If anything, he's actually more than surprised that his subject hasn't figured it out for himself yet. Even Yuuri already has, and he's currently getting a lot of hell for it over Skype.)

"I can't believe he wanted to break up all along," Viktor whined at him mournfully while shaking his arm. "Their relationship had so much promise, and he was willing to throw it all away? It's unacceptable."

Phichit simply raised an eyebrow in amusement. Barcelona. Of course. He shot the poor Russian a devious shit-eating grin over his shoulder. "Triggered much?"

He wasn't even being subtle anymore at this point; Not-Brother-in-Law's denseness is losing its novelty pretty fast.

Phichit received an adorable scowl in return, and the pressure on his arm is gone as Viktor left his side to bother Yuuri instead. He laughed as his best friend stumbled over his code-switching again, mixing up English, Japanese and Russian phrases in confusion. The way Viktor's face lit up at once as he glomped his husband on the ice was simply too precious.

He snapped a photo as always, of course. Those two dorks really are the best for each other, and as their friend and one of their best men, he is willing to fight anyone tooth-and-nail for it.

And if posting endless photos of them weren't enough, he'd write whole novels and dissertations for them.

Speaking of which, he has a new side story for his serial now. Spasibo, bratan.

Phichit skated away from the kissing couple, immensely satisfied.

("Viktor says he loves your new update. How do you even come up with ideas for it?"

"Aw, shucks, Yuuri! Thank you so much! Stay in love always, okay? I'll be watching~."

"Phichit, STOP.")

  .

v.

Yuuri should have known when Viten'ka, for lack of a better word, lost it.

And by "it," he meant both the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle and his husband's sanity.

The almost-completed picture of Van Gogh's The Starry Night was left abandoned on the table, in favor of getting down on their hands and knees to look for the missing piece. The puzzle pieces were quite small, and losing only one shouldn't really be too distracting, as long as the right frame is used and the guests kept their distance.

Yuuri had considered talking Viktor into just hanging it up as is to spare them both the time and effort, but the puzzle-shaped blank space smack dab in the middle of swirling blue skies ticked even him off. That, or a year into marriage has made him as nitpicky as his husband about such trivial things, like twin peas in a pod.

Or maybe not, because he also appreciated said husband's well-endowed ass, as it constantly shifted in position while the man was looking under the couch. Admittedly, far-from-innocent thoughts have filled his mind while it was sticking up like that, but no, he would never go that far. He isn't a bit sorry for not helping out at all, however.

As Viktor moved to the CD stand next, Yuuri affirmed the last statement as the truest of them all.

That was one more thing that had changed over time, he supposed. And Viktor, too, knows this all too well, if the generous affection he lavished in bed at night was of any indication. Those times were the most fun.

Even now, Yuuri couldn't believe how much things have changed since they first met. Back then, Viktor had been someone akin to a god -- perfect, immaculate, unattainable. Over time, he came to learn how his god turned out to be as human as he was, with various faults and quirks and random eccentricities of his own. And though he's practically run the whole gamut of emotions for it, he considered himself very lucky that Viktor Nikiforov came into his life the way he did -- like a flashy, exploding supernova that surprised him and set everything on fire.

Viktor, for his part, would never tire of telling their story this way -- how everything in his life had been falling apart like the thin ice beneah his feet, then how it all suddenly fell into place when he met the love of his life, and he felt more than whole again. Phichit certainly cried buckets when Viktor called Yuuri Katsuki the best surprise of his life, and how truly, immensely lucky he was to be married to him. (They completed each other like perfectly-fit jigsaw puzzles, he'd said. Ha.)

They couldn't have found each other in a much better way, Yuuri mused as he spied a small piece of blue cardboard under the television set. As he reached his hand forward to retrieve it, however, another larger hand closed in first and pulled out of the dark space just as quickly. His husband let out a silly grin as he raised the puzzle piece between his fingers, and Yuuri was overcome with a wave of unexplainable feelings as he pinned the other man to the floor.

"What's this?" Viktor asked with amusement. "Are you that happy we finally found it?"

"Maybe," Yuuri answered teasingly, bending down to kiss the other man senseless. Maybe it wasn't only Viktor who lost his sanity this round, after all. (And how, indeed; all this over a single missing puzzle piece.) "I've had a lot of thoughts today, is all," he confessed breathlessly as he pulled away.

"Wow, do share," Viktor commented, his flushed form clearly betraying excitement and arousal. "I'm all ears, since we've already finished the puzzle and all."

"No, thanks," Yuuri declined with a smirk, taking the puzzle piece instead and lifting himself off the ground. He enjoyed the way his husband's face comically fell at the blunt rejection. Viktor whined as he got up and joined him at the table. "Yuu-chan!"

Yuuri looked back over his shoulder. "You have your moments, Viten'ka; let me have mine."