#me awake at night. I'm sick and tired of him not even doing bare minimum and reaping all the rewards.

[secondplayercanada]

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[adelmortescryche]

R u ready cuz i got me a LIST. I'll send prompts in separate asks and if u don't like any feel free to disregard! First off is Victuuri, with "I'm not very good with commitment, or soulmates, or love." Preferably said by Yuuri bc i l o v e angst. A lot.

hah, can i just say that i was fcking delighted to get this one with Yuuri being the one to say the line. i mean, as i mentioned before, i’d have had yuuri say it either way, but then i registered that that was exactly what you wanted anyway. such a lovely coincidence. this turned out fluffier than expected, but hey, it’s still mildly angsty.

an explanation in advance, if it isn’t obvious: soulmates live their lives in this ‘verse with sensory deprivation of some sort. so they’re all actually impaired to a certain extent until they meet their soulmates. soulmates don’t necessarily have to be romantic or stay together. guess what side of the argument these two dorks are on.

In response to this post. salty soulmate prompts ftw.

Victor supposed that he should have seen this coming. He’d spent his entire adult life wondering what taste was, read books about flavor and food, and stared at cooking shows, wondering if food was really more than just aesthetic appreciation and matter being shoveled in for energy and nutrition. Whether there was actually someone out there, a destined someone who would who would bring flavor and taste into his life like a tidal wave. He’d heard Chris think about smell in the same way until he’d met his dashing mystery man, too - if it was real, if something as mundane as the way things smelt was worth the hype.

The first thing he’d done in the aftermath was drag Chris into a flower shop. And had weathered the teasing about being a pathetic romantic while Chris all but buried his face in a vase full of lilies.

So, yes. He should have seen this coming. He’d spent enough years as a precocious teen scoffing at the thought of something as ridiculous as fate and a soulmate deciding anything about his life. He’d spent many more as a lonely adult thinking that it might not be that bad, having someone promised to you so soundly. He should have seen this coming. 

Yuuri, for his part, just looked uncomfortable. And maybe a little tired, eyes just a bit puffy and red. His fingers were tight around the edge of his door, holding it in place like a shield to hold Victor at bay. Ridiculous. As if Victor needed anything of the sort to keep him back when Yuuri-

“Sorry. I’m just… not very good with commitment. Or soulmates. Or love. We had this discussion already, Victor, I’m-”

Not good with people, Yuuri had said. Not good with relationships, casual or otherwise. Just not comfortable with social interaction outside the bare minimum at all. Funny how Victor had assumed that meant people who weren’t soulmates. Relationships that didn’t involve him. Because he was- because Yuuri was-

“Sorry.” Yuuri repeated, and slammed the door shut in his face.

 *

“You look like you need a drink.”

He blinked muzzily down at the table, then forced himself to lift his head enough to peer up at the red clad form kneeling on the other side of the table from him.

Ah. It had gotten rather quiet, hadn’t it.

“Sorry, I’ll go back up,” he mumbled, a few more blinks making it easier to recognize the form as Mari. Yuuri’s older sister.

She just shook her head, though, gesturing for Victor to stay where he was, then proceeded to settle into a more loose-limbed crosslegged posture. It took a little longer for the situation to compute, but when it did, Victor’s head drooped a little lower. 

“You heard us.” It wasn’t a question.

“Aa. You were very quiet, but…” she shrugged, unapologetic, and Victor had to give a tired laugh. Fantastic. Obviously he shouldn’t have brought the topic up at the inn. But it was either the inn or the rink, or the walk between the two. Or assorted restaurants that Yuuri had been willing to introduce him to. If nothing else, the inn had been more private than the other options.

They were silent for a moment of companionable silence, long enough that Victor suddenly found himself wondering if Mari had met her soulmate yet. What her take on the topic was. Yuuri had made his stance very clear, but that didn’t mean all the Katsukis felt the same way.

“My brother… he isn’t shy.”

Mari’s words were blunt. Abruptly so. They made Victor blink again, confused, but she barged on before he could actually understand what she meant.

“He isn’t shy, but people make him uneasy. People who want his time make him break. Ah, I mean-” she paused, looking irritable, but Victor nodded slowly in response, willing to take her at face value. Even if the thought of Yuuri breaking made something sick settle at the bottom of his gut.

“He gets very uneasy, when he does not know what someone wants. It is always better to tell him what you want.”

Victor frowns at that, and wants to argue that that was exactly what he’d done. He’d come clean. He’d said that flavors had bloomed in his mouth only after he’d met Yuuri. He’d even left himself open to hurt, and said that he was happy that Yuuri was the one to return his missing sense to him. How much clearer could a man get?

Mari just looked vaguely exasperated, though. Maybe a little long-suffering. She was older than him, Victor remembered distantly. It had been so long since he’d had peers who were older than him that actually mattered.

“You want that drink?” she asked.

Victor shook his head.

“Then you sleep. Go. And talk to my idiot brother in the morning. Oyasumi.”

“Oyasumi,” Victor parroted dumbly, watching as she pushed herself to her feet and walked away. Not sure if he should take issue with the appellation, then deciding that if anyone had the right to call Yuuri an idiot, it was his older sister.

By the time he got himself to his room, Makka was already curled up and half asleep on top of the covers. The sight makes him pause by the door, an odd smile pulling taut across his face. Even when Makka lifting her head to stare at him questioningly, wondering why he hadn’t already gotten into bed already, didn’t erase the smile from his lips.

Well. He still had Makka, didn’t he. This didn’t change anything. Yuuri didn’t change anything. Soulmates didn’t change anything. He could still try coaching for an year, be thankful for the break and actually enjoy eating food.

So what if he’d been right all along, as a teen. His seventeen year old self would probably laugh to see how far he’d fallen.

Makka whined, and Victor stepped into the room, the action a reflex more than anything else. Her stare was enough to get him switch off the one lamp that was still lit, and get under the covers without much more thought.

“You’re more disapproving than a mother with a teenager under her roof,” Victor muttered into the curls topping her head, once she’d flopped down on top of him, all but burying him beneath herself. 

No response, but then, he’d never needed one, from Makkachin. He could always tell when she wanted him around. Now if only Yuuri were that easy to re-

A cool, dry nose nudged at the hollow of his throat, sudden enough that he almost yelped in surprise. When he pulled back, he found Makka staring up at him accusingly. It had him bursting into snickers that he promptly buried into her fur, much to her sleepy irritation. Not that she protested. She never did.

Okay, then. Sleep. Actual sleep, without working himself into the ground thinking about Yuuri, or fate or anything else that was liable to leave him awake through the night. He was a coach now, after all. And if his student was avoiding him… Well, then he’d just meet his student halfway. Soulmate or not.

*

A few days down the line proved early on that Yuuri was not an easy man to meet halfway. Not when he seemed stubborn and embarrassed enough that he was doing his literal best to skedaddle whenever Victor got anywhere near close enough to ask to talk.

It was enough to drive a man crazy. Especially when Mari slowly went from looking exasperating to commiserating to amused. Hiroko and Toshiya weren’t of any help either, clearly just as amused as their daughter, and while Minako was kind enough to split bottles of sake and plum wine with him, but she wasn’t kind enough to not laugh at his plight.

“You seem to be doing something right, at least. Yuuri sure as hell wouldn’t act like this with a coach.” Minako crowed, while Victor knocked back the last dregs of whatever had been left in the flask before them.

“It’s not like it helps. He won’t even talk to me!” he snapped back, and immediately regretted it. A friendly listening ear aside, Minako was still Yuuri’s old ballet teacher. Lilia would probably smile with perfect poise in a similar situation, all the while plotting to murder anyone badmouthing her students.

Minako, thankfully, just laughed some more, and patted him roughly on the back. Hiroko, in the process of bringing out yet another bottle of wine, most likely for Minako because Victor was stopping while he was ahead, reached out to pat him on the shoulder, murmuring something in Japanese that just made Minako laugh even harder. Victor wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.

The mean glint in Minako’s eyes told him that he was really better off not knowing.

A clatter near the entryway had Victor glancing that way reflexively, only to find Yuuri in the process of leaving, most likely for an evening run. Yuuri barely met his eyes for a split second before he dashed away, though. It was barely a surprise at this point.

“See? That’s not how he’d treat a coach. I should know, I’ve been his teacher since he was a tiny kid. Hell, I stood in for a coach a whole lot when he’d been a kid, too.”

Victor’s not sure how it matters, when the equation there was so different from whatever was getting built between him and Yuuri. Maybe that was where he was supposed to start in that talk. Mari though he should tell Yuuri what he wanted, but… that didn’t seem to be helping at all. Maybe he should just ask what Yuuri wanted instead.

Something of the frustration brewing in his head must have shown on his face, because Minako nearly cackled. And proceeded to fill his ochoko with another shot of sake.

“Drink up, boy, clearly you’re going to need it. And then maybe you can consider going on a run to catch up with Yuuri-kun.”

“Maybe,” Victor agreed, the smile on his face a lot more plastic than it had been in a while. No way in hell was he going to go chasing after Yuuri. Not only could he set a terrifying pace when he was focused, Victor suspected that trying to catch up with him after that momentary traded glance earlier would backfire a lot more than any other attempts he’d made so far.

So no. Maybe he could try to catch him at the rink in the morning. He felt safer near the ice, right. That’s what Nishigori and Yuuko had implied, at any rate.

Well, Victor could say the same. Neutral ground! Maybe that would help, if nothing else did. Honestly, he didn’t even care as much about soulmates any longer, not after the last few days he’d been through. No, fate and destiny could go fuck themselves, all he wanted was Yuuri, acting normal again. His fledgling student, the fellow competitor who’d managed to sweep his heart away well before Victor even registered that he’d returned his missing sense as well, the man whom Victor had slowly begun to realize would be a worthy friend to have, too, aside from everything else.

Morning. The ice rink. It was on.

*

“…Victor, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Victor, in the process of getting his skates off, eyes hard in his head, started in surprise. When he regained enough control to look back at Yuuko, who’d managed to sneak up on him when he’d been busy knocking the ice off of his blades, she just looked more alarmed than her voice had suggested.

The expression did little to soothe his ire, but he did take the time to offer her a smile. It’s not her fault that her friend is starting to feel roughly as stubborn and bratty as Yura. Victor was tempted to shove that in Yuuri’s face, just to see how he’d react to it. 

“It’s nothing, we’ll be taking a break today, i think.” he replied, smile firmly pasted in place, and Yuuko stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment before finally coughing out a laugh.

“Don’t be too hard on him. Yuuri isn’t shy, he’s just-”

“Really not good with people. Yes, thank you, I’ve figured that out now.” Victor completed cheerfully, something in him very tempted to drop the smiles to the wayside just this once, because he was tired, damnit, but Yuuko didn’t deserve the vitriol buried beneath them, just waiting to be unleashed. 

She looked uncomfortably knowing when she waved him out of the rink, all the same. 

Cycling back to the inn in the cold air managed to cool him down somewhat, enough so that he’s relatively calm by the time he’s kicking his shoes off in the genkan and trading them in for his own pair of indoor slippers.

He runs into Mari when he’s heading up the stair, and she only needs a single glance at his face before she lips tugged apart in a delighted smirk.

“Finally,” she declared, sounding aggrieved. “Do you have any idea how irritating the two of you have been these past few days. Please go tell him what you want from him so he can stop hiding in his covers.”

“Thanks, Mari,” Victor replied pleasantly, not bothering to correct her, and somehow that just made her smirk broaden. She didn’t say any more, though, instead continuing down the stairs without giving him any grief.

By the time he gets Yuuri’s door open to drag him out to the beach, he’d almost completely managed to convince himself that he’ll be okay with however this is going to end. Even if everyone else seemed to have their own opinions about what’s going to happen. 

*

“-and even if I couldn’t actually feel her arms around me back then, something about that situation left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I just- shoved her away. Because she was making assumptions about what I was feeling, and was forcing her emotions on me… It’s never been something I’ve been comfortable with. I need space, Victor. To just exist, maybe to figure out what I want. And no one I’ve been with in even the flimsiest of a relationship till now seems to understand that, outside of my family and friends, here. I’m not weak.”

And so the unease about commitment. And love. And soulmates. Victor tightened his grip around Makkachin involuntarily, only relaxing it when she whined, confused. 

Yuuri sounded exhausted, and vehement, almost like the words he’s said had been clawing at his throat ever since they’d stopped talking to each other.

“No one thinks you’re weak, Yuuri. I certainly don’t. This entire time, all I’ve wanted was to ask you what you wanted out of this. I said that I’m certain we’re soulmates, but that doesn’t have to mean anything more that you want it to. Did you want me to be a father figure to you? A sibling, a friend, a lover-” Victor paused when Yuuri’s hand abruptly reached out to cover his mouth. 

When he looked over to the side, Yuuri’s face was flushed enough that it bordered on unhealthy. He seemed determined, though. So Victor waited, curious.

The next thing he knew, Yuuri was standing up and bowing, at a perfectly formal 90 degrees, arms steady at his sides. It’s enough to make Victor fumble in place, eyes going wide, but before he could say anything, Yuuri was speaking, Japanese spilling smoothly past his lips, in a stream fast enough that Victor had no chance of understanding any of it. It wasn’t much, only a sentence, but at the end of it, Yuuri eased off on the bow enough that Victor could see his face again. And the small, impish smile playing on his lips, too.

“Pleased to meet you, thank you for returning my tactile sense.” He said, this time around in English, and Victor choked on a surprised laugh, delight budding bright in his chest.

“Yuuri-”

Yuuri just cleared his throat rather pointedly, though, and Victor sighed, smiling a little helplessly as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“Pleased to meet you, thank you for returning my sense of taste.”

“There. That was better.” Yuuri said, actually laughing out loud when Victor rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

They stayed on the beach for longer, simply walking by the water, throwing a ball for Makka whenever she got bored, segueing into more casual topics of conversation, even discussing what it felt like to have a sense returned to them. Apparently Yuuri had been stuck in bed for weeks because of how bad the pain had been for him, years of ballet and figure skating without any tactile sensation finally catching up with him. Victor had cringed at the thought, in turn offering up photos of all the different food combinations and cuisines he’d taken to trying out once he had a fully functioning sense of taste.

It wasn’t until they were ready to leave that Yuuri slowed down to say that he didn’t want Victor to be anything but himself. Because Victor the Person, his coach and possibly his friend, was at least a little more important than whatever had destined for them to be soulmates.

It’s enough to make Victor think, if only for a split second, that he’s very relieved that Yuuri was the person that had been destined for him after all.

*

A few months down the line and Victor’s tackling Yuuri to the ice, heedless of the screams and the lights and sound of thousands of camera shutters flashing, hellbent on smothering him in kisses. He’s still not sure if that’s more because Yuuri was his soulmate or because Yuuri was Yuuri, and Yuuri was never going to stop surprising him, but by that point, Victor really couldn’t care less.