Chapter Text
It took a couple more lazy days to get Viktor back on the ice and training. It took a few more to rebuild his stamina.
Yuuri and Viktor spent as much of their remaining time in Hasetsu with family. In between, they packed, trained, and binged Parks and Recreation.
Then they spent their three flights to St. Petersburg watching even more of the show.
***
When they got 42 episodes in, Viktor whined, “Yuuuuuri, when are they going to get together? I’m tired of waiting."
“Be patient, Vitya.”
“I’m not good at that.” He grumbled.
Yuuri laughed, “I’ve noticed.”
***
During episode 43, Viktor bumped Yuuri’s shoulder and said, “That was you in Sochi.”
“Shut up.” His fiancé mumbled, flushing pink.
***
At the end of episode 44, Viktor cheered and tackled Yuuri with a kiss.
Yuuri vowed to show Viktor every romance he could think of if they would make him smile like that over and over again.
***
Twenty-some hours of air travel later, Yuuri and Viktor cleared customs and were reunited with Makkachin before calling a cab to take them home.
Yuuri couldn’t help but feel some old fanboy jitters when the elevator deposited them on the top floor of Viktor’s apartment building.
He had long dreamed about what Viktor’s apartment would look like. So many of his teenage fantasies took place there, with sets constructed using thoroughly examined publicity photos. And now here he was, finally about to see it in person.
Viktor paused before inserting the key, "So, I've been meaning to redecorate, to make it more… cozy. I thought maybe we could do that together, so it feels more like us. Would you…want that?"
Yuuri held in his inner teenage scream.
Yes. Absolutely yes.
He tried to be cool, "Yeah. That sounds nice." His smile might have given him away.
Viktor stole a kiss before opening the door.
The apartment itself was beautiful. The kitchen, living, and dining room flowed together in one big, open space. The ceilings were high, and the floor shined with beautiful wood. Off the side of the room was a small hallway that led to a bathroom and guest room. Next to the bathroom door was a set of stairs- yes, stairs- that led to the master suite. Because Viktor Nikiforov had a two-story apartment.
However, besides a few pictures and books on a shelf near the couch, there was minimal color. Yuuri could see what Viktor meant about making it cozier.
Still, it was elegant. Yuuri would happily live here.
After settling Makkachin in, eating, and showering, the two men flopped down in bed. Viktor’s sheets were wonderfully soft.
"I'm so glad we have tomorrow off," Viktor mumbled, pulling Yuuri close. "I promise I'll give you a real introduction to St. Petersburg then."
“Mhmm, okay. I'm looking forward to it."
Viktor sleepily muttered, "and then I'm gonna fuck you in every room of the apartment.” He yawned. “Just as soon as I sleep.”
Yuuri giggled and combed his fingers through his fiancé’s hair. “I’m looking forward to that too.” He whispered.
“Wake me up if you need anything during the night, solnyshko.”
“I’ll be fine, Vitya. Just sleep. You look exhausted.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too.” Yuuri pressed a kiss to the Russian’s forehead, and he was asleep before Yurri even pulled his lips away.
Despite his exhaustion, Yuuri was too wired, and jet lagged to fall asleep yet. It was nearly morning in Japan, and his body was pretty sure it should be waking up.
Once he was sure Viktor was in a deep trance, Yuuri slipped out of bed to work on his little project.
***
Viktor woke up to blinding sunlight. It was late morning. He didn’t usually sleep that long, but internally he had no idea what time it was.
The mattress shifted as he realized what had woken him up. Yuuri shuffled next to him on his knees, two mugs in hand.
"Good morning." He smiled, handing Viktor a steaming cup of coffee.
“Good morning. I see you found the coffee maker.”
"And the kettle," Yuuri said, taking a sip of what looked like green tea.
“Yuuri, you didn’t have to make coffee just for me.”
“Of course I did! It’s your birthday.”
Viktor looked at him quizzically. “My birthday was… weeks ago.”
"I know, but I didn't get to see you then or on Christmas, and you were sick for New Years, so I thought I would surprise you with a celebration today… is that okay?"
Viktor felt the smile spread across his cheeks. His drowsiness was instantly gone, replaced with invigoration. “Yes! I love surprises!”
“Good, because we’re celebrating all three today.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you could do that! What are we doing first?”
“Well, I was going to make you breakfast in bed, but we have no food, so maybe I could take you out for breakfast?”
“That sounds perfect!”
But first, Viktor pulled Yuuri in, tangling their limbs together for morning cuddles and coffee.
Honestly, if this was all Viktor got for his birthday, he would be happy.
But it wasn’t all he got. Not even close.
***
Viktor dug through his dresser, looking for his favorite sweater. He wanted to look good for his breakfast date.
When he couldn’t find it, he moved to his second dresser, because yes, Viktor Nikiforov had two dressers. Three, if you count the tiny one, which he doesn't, thank you very much.
After tearing half his closet apart, he finally found the sweater but realized that wasn't the only thing missing.
The cardboard box that normally held all his old medals- which he really was going to display one of these days- was missing from its shelf.
Huh. Yuuri must have moved it.
Although he doesn’t know why he would have.
“Yuuri?" He called, heading out towards the top of the stairs. "Did you move-”
As Viktor rounded the corner, he saw Yuuri and the medals. They were no longer in an old moving box.
They were hanging in small display frames on the wall going down the stairs. Viktor’s jaw went slack as he stepped in for a closer look. Yuuri smiled at him sheepishly.
It was a mix of his medals and Yuuri’s. Each one with a small podium photo wedge in the corner. Surrounding the frames were small 4x6 photos taken during the season each medal was from, thoughtfully placed in a collage.
It was a loving shrine to both their careers and the relationships they had found in the process.
Near the bottom steps were the early years. Surrounded with mostly pictures taken by Chris and Georgi, but Viktor spotted the post-it note bouquet he’d given Yuuri for their packing Olympics displayed in a frame near the matching medal. Closer to the top of the stairs were some of Viktor’s favorite pictures of him and Yuuri from the last season.
Viktor felt like he’d just walked into the wing of a museum dedicated to him.
“Yuuri…” he choked up.
"If you don't like it, we can rearrange or change it altogether. I just know how much you like pictures, and you said you've been meaning to display all the medals, and I thought asking you ahead of time would ruin the surprise-”
Viktor cut off his fiancé's nervous ramblings with a bone-crushing hug.
“It’s perfect.”
“It’s not all your medals. It was harder to find pictures from older seasons, and I wanted to leave room for the next season-”
Viktor kissed him. “It’s absolutely perfect. I love it!”
Yuuri's lips curled into an adorable smile. "Good. I was hoping you would."
“Did you do this all last night? How did you hang them without waking me up?”
Yuuri laughed, "I used those little sticky strips you can peel off the wall."
“You’re so smart, Yuuri!” Viktor kissed him again. “My fiancé is a genius!”
The smaller man blushed and mumbled, “Your fiancé has just lived in dorm rooms.”
“This is the best combination birthday, Christmas, New Year’s present I’ve ever gotten!”
“Oh, this is just your birthday present. It’s not Christmas yet. That comes this afternoon.” Yuuri winked before moving down the stairs. “Come on. We’ve got breakfast to eat.”
Viktor raced after him.
***
They had a long luxurious breakfast before walking home via the grocery store.
Yuuri insisted on picking up a few specific ingredients but wouldn’t tell Viktor what they were for.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He teased, putting heavy cream into the cart. They looked suspiciously like cake supplies.
***
When they made it home and put all the groceries away, Viktor hung his arms around Yuuri’s neck.
“What are we doing next, Lyubov?”
"Next is Christmas," Yuuri said, dropping a peck on his fiancé’s lips. “Wait right here.” He whispered.
Yuuri disappeared to the bedroom and returned a minute later with a small package wrapped in colorful paper. He was also wearing the tackiest sweater Viktor had ever seen. It was blue, crocheted with a scene of a man ice skating under a snow-covered cherry blossom tree. The sight filled Viktor's heart with unexpected love. He wasn't sure how one man could look so cute in such a ridiculous sweater, but Yuuri did.
“Ugly Christmas sweaters are traditional in America.” Yuuri smiled.
“That’s such a good tradition!” Viktor was suddenly seized with a desire to have an equally horrible sweater. “I’ve always been at nationals for Christmas. I don’t have any fun traditions.”
“Well, in Japan,” Yuuri explained, “Christmas is a couple’s holiday. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate with before.” His eyes sparked. “I was hoping we could make traditions together.”
Viktor’s overextended heart burst in his chest.
“Please,” he choked a little. “How do we do that?”
“Here,” Yuuri said, handing him the package.
Viktor ripped the paper open without hesitation. Inside was a red, knitted sweater with a poodle wearing a winter hat. Right there in the kitchen, Viktor stripped off his shirt and pulled on the Christmas sweater.
“It’s so cute, Yuuri!”
"I saw it in Tokyo when I was there for nationals. It reminded me so much of you that I couldn't resist." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an even smaller, wrapped package. "They also had this."
Viktor took the second gift and opened it the same way. Out came another, much smaller, red sweater. This one with a snowflake pattern on it.
“It’s for Makkachin," Yuuri mumbled shyly.
Viktor gasped. His eyes went wide with sparkles. “This is amazing. Where’s Makka? She needs to wear this now!”
Yuuri laughed. “I wasn’t sure if she would like it.”
“How can she not! It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! Makka, come get your Christmas sweater!"
It took a few minutes to wrestle the poodle into her new sweater, a few more minutes to take pictures of it from every angle, and then one of them all together.
The photos were on Instagram in minutes.
Afterward, Yuuri and Viktor sat on the floor, snorting with laughter as they huddled over Viktor's camera roll. Makka wore the most adorable, confused face as she inspected her new outfit.
“Makka, you look so cute! Yes, you do! You're such a good girl." Viktor cooed.
“The best girl!” Yuuri added.
They stayed there for a while, petting Makkachin and exchanging jokes and kisses until Viktor pulled out a Bluetooth speaker and started playing Christmas music.
"I hear this is also popular." He smiled, getting up to set it on the counter, and extended a hand to help Yuuri off the ground.
“Come here.” He smiled, pulling his fiancé up, and immediately gathering him up in his arms for a slow dance. “Let’s make this a tradition too.” He whispered.
Yuuri took the lead as the couple started swaying. They spun and tangoed out of the kitchen, around the dining room table, and into the living room.
"I love dancing with you," Yuuri said softly.
“I know.” Viktor gently laughed, “You tell me every time you’re drunk.” Viktor didn’t miss when red spilled across his fiancé’s cheeks. “I love making you blush, Yuuri.”
“I know.” The other man smiled mischievously. “You tell me every time you’re drunk.”
“Good.” Viktor cooed. “Someone should tell you how beautiful it makes you look.”
“I like when that someone is you.”
Viktor leaned closer to whisper in Yuuri’s ear, “you are so beautiful, Yuuri. And your dancing puts every other skater to shame.”
Without warning, Yuuri threw Viktor into a dip. The world blurred as Viktor flew until his body came to a quick stop, supported by strong arms.
Looking up, he could see a hunger in his fiancé's eyes, and that had him scrambling to get ahold of his love.
Their dance came to an abrupt end as Viktor pulled Yuuri into a passionate kiss, claiming Yuuri’s mouth with his own. It deepened into licking, biting, and sucking.
Viktor broke away to nip down Yuuri’s neck when he heard a whisper in his ear, "last night, you promised to fuck me in every room of the apartment."
Viktor’s blood immediately abandoned his vital organs for his dick.
“I did.”
"There are a lot of rooms in here. It might take us weeks to get through all of them…"
“We should probably get started now, then.” Viktor smiled, pulling Yuuri down onto the couch.
***
Fuck, Yuuri was hot.
Hot and skilled.
And so flexible.
Viktor hummed contentedly, collapsed on Yuuri’s chest. They hadn’t bothered to get dressed yet.
The living room looked (and smelled) a little like a renaissance painting depicting satisfaction and debauchery.
“I need to get up. I have something to make in the kitchen.” Yuuri’s voice vibrated against Viktor’s skin.
“No, you can’t move.”
“I promise it will be worth it.” The smaller man laughed. “You can stay here. I’ll bring you something to clean up with. Actually, it’s probably better if you’re not in the kitchen.”
“Why?” Viktor pouted.
“Because you can’t know what I’m making. It’s a surprise.”
“But what if I want to help you?”
Yuuri shot him a skeptical look, “you want to help in the kitchen?”
“Yeah!”
Yuuri paused, “fine, but I’m still not telling you what we’re making.”
“Works for me!”
Viktor made himself useful by mixing things, holding Yuuri from behind, messaging his shoulders, kissing the back of his neck…
He couldn’t help it if his fiancé looked sexy as hell in an apron.
“Vitya… you’re supposed to be helping.”
“I am helping.” He murmured, nipping at Yuuri’s ear. “You had batter on your ear.”
“Do I?”
“Well, not anymore. I got it off.”
“Well then, crisis averted.”
"You have some batter here too…" Viktor murmured, leaning down to kiss where Yuuri's neck met his shoulder.
“So weird. I wonder how batter got there?” Yuuri groaned sarcastically.
“I guess we’ll never know.” Viktor hummed.
***
Once the mysterious, cake-shaped, baked good was cooked, and out of the oven, Yuuri leaned across the countertop to where Viktor had taken up residence on a bar stool.
“Merry Christmas, Vitenka.”
“Merry Christmas, Solnyshko.”
“However, it’s now five, which means it is officially New Years.”
“That’s too bad. I was enjoying Christmas.”
“You’ll like New Years too.”
“Yeah? What are we doing for New Years?”
“First, I thought we should take Makka for a walk."
“Probably a good idea.”
Viktor went upstairs to change into warmer clothes- and, let's be honest, try on several options- when he finally found the right look, he came down to Yuuri waiting for him in the living room, tapping away on his phone.
“Ready?”
“Yeah!” Yuuri said, tapping a few more times before pocketing his phone, linking arms with his fiancé, and heading out into the cold.
Viktor took the opportunity to give him a tour around the neighborhood. They stopped a few times to look at holiday lights that hadn't been taken down yet.
In the dark, Viktor watched the white lights dance in Yuuri’s hazelnut eyes. He’d never had someone to celebrate the holidays with like this before. He’d never much cared for Christmas or New Years. Now they might be his new favorite holidays.
"You're staring at me," Yuuri mumbled, glancing up from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just admiring my beautiful husband.”
“We’re not married yet.” Yuuri objected, but the flush spreading across his cheeks gave away his internal butterflies.
Viktor sighed, leaning closer. “A man can dream, Yuuri.”
It had its desired effect.
The Japanese man's cheeks darkened from pink to red to match his wind-chilled nose.
Yuuri glanced up before flashing a mesmerizing smile. "You can dream about me all you want, Vitenka.”
Viktor tried his best not to trip over his feet and eat asphalt as his heart sputtered.
He needed to marry this man as soon as possible.
***
"So," Viktor asked when they arrived home, as he fished his apartment keys out of his coat, “what are we doing for New Year’s Eve?”
“It’s going to be more of a traditional Russian New Year," Yuuri responded, his face was suspiciously straight.
“Okay, so-” Viktor’s voice died out as he swung the door open. Voices and music poured out of the apartment.
Viktor stared at the scene in front of him. While they had been gone, party decorations and twinkle lights had been strung up around the living room. Someone had laid out a spread of traditional New Year’s dishes on the table, and milling around his living room was… everyone.
“Vitya!" Mila cheered, "Happy New Year!”
“Took you long enough,” Yura grumbled. “We’ve been set up for like ten minutes.”
Yuuri casually brushed past Viktor's shoulder, walking in to take off his coat. His fiancé stood dumb-struck in the doorway.
Viktor felt Makkachin’s leash fall from his hand. A glass of sparkling wine replaced it.
Georgi smiled at him, holding his own glass, “Yakov already opened the wine.”
And sure enough, his coach was standing in the corner of the room, examining the bookshelf.
“Vitya?” Came a soft voice.
Yuuri was standing at the coat rack, hanging up Makkachin’s leash. "Do you want to come in?" He bit his lip.
Viktor whispered, “I love surprise parties.”
“I know.” His fiancé giggled.
“No one has ever thrown one for me before.”
“Happy New Year?”
Viktor broke out into a smile so wide it hurt his cheeks. He leaned in to steal a kiss. “Happy New Year!" He mumbled into his fiancé's ear before stepping into the apartment.
“Gross!” Yuri called out. “Katsudon promised you two wouldn’t be disgusting. It’s the only reason I came.”
"Please," Mila said. "You would never pass up free food!"
“I could have made this if I wanted to.”
“No, you couldn’t.” Came Lillian’s booming voice as she emerged from the back hallway. “But, neither could Vitya.” She smiled.
Yakov finally turned to address the group, “I don’t know which of you is a worse cook.”
“You are.” Viktor and Yuri responded in unison in unison. This elicited a laugh from the whole room.
"Besides," Viktor said, "I don't need to cook because Yuuri is an excellent chef!”
“I don’t know about excellent," Yuuri mumbled into his glass of wine.
***
The night flew by with food, wine, and vague threats from Yakov about tomorrow morning’s conditioning.
Viktor, Mila, and Georgi introduced Yuuri to a host of traditional Russian New Year’s dishes.
Yuuri- having conspired with Yura, and an Asian market, ahead of time- introduced everyone to some traditional Japanese dishes.
Yakov poured everyone New Year’s shots.
Eventually, Yuuri brought out the mysterious cake-shaped baked good from earlier, now fully assembled. “It’s a kurisumasu keki. We make it in Japan for Christmas and birthdays, but it can be for New Years too.” Yuuri glanced up at Viktor and threw him a subtle wink.
“Is that frosted in whipped cream?” Mila blurted out.
“Umm, yes?"
“I love whipped cream! Did you make it yourself?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing!”
“I helped!” Viktor chimed in.
“I don’t believe that.” Yakov snorted.
“Well, I kept Yuuri company while he made it.”
"That I believe," Georgi mumbled.
Mila was still staring at Yuuri with an almost scary intensity. “Can I have a cake like this for my birthday?”
“Sure.”
“Yuuri’s my new favorite rinkmate!" She loudly announced.
“Oh, umm thanks.” He blushed.
"Don't get too comfortable with that title," Viktor whispered in his fiancé's ear. "There’s stiff competition for it.”
***
The party went on. Once Yuuri had stuffed himself with as much food as he could, he retreated to his bedroom for a few minutes to recharge his social energy.
There he did what anyone hiding from a party does, scroll through social media.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, the first thing he found was Viktor's Instagram post of them in their matching Christmas sweaters.
Yuuri's heart stopped when his eyes slid over the caption, "Happy belated Christmas from the Katsuki-Nikiforov home.”
Instantly, tears welled up and caught in his lashes as he read the caption over and over again.
Katsuki-Nikiforov home.
He stared, feeling a wonderful thrum in his heart, until there was a gentle knock on the door. “Yuuri?” Viktor called as he pushed the door open. “There you are. I was-” Viktor stopped when he saw the tears sliding down his fiancé’s cheeks. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Yuuri nodded, “yeah. I’m great.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m happy.” He offered up a tearful smile. “I’m really happy.” Viktor sat down next to him and wiped a tear away. “And also maybe a little exhausted.”
Viktor laughed. "Do you want me to kick everyone out so we can sleep?"
“No, that’s okay. I have a little party left in me. I just came up here for a break.”
“Mhmm, well, as long as you're up here, I have a little New Year’s gift for you too.” Viktor pulled out a box roughly the size of a toaster. “I meant to give it to you on actual New Years, but, surprising no one, I forgot to bring it back to Japan with me.”
Yuuri laughed as he carefully pulled apart the wrapping paper. Inside the box were a collection of mundane but essential items. A phone charger that would actually work in Russian outlets, a set of gloves, a hat, and a scarf much warmer than anything Yuuri already had, and a bag full of creams, lotions, and lip balms. He recognized it as Viktor’s brand. The labels were in Russian, but Yuuri could roughly translate "winter" and "dry skin."
And at the bottom, a small velvet box.
Delicately, Yuuri opened it.
Inside was a single key with Viktor’s apartment number- their apartment number- engraved across the top.
“I know it’s not much.” Viktor murmured, “but they’re things I thought you would need here.”
"It's perfect," Yuuri said as more tears spilled from his eyes. He picked up the key and clutched it in his hand like a precious jewel.
“I know moving to a new country is really hard, and the last few weeks, I haven’t been… as supportive as I meant to be. I just wanted you to know that I’m here to help.”
“Thank you,” was all Yuuri could say. This was so much better than a big flashy gift because every one of these items represented a moment when Viktor cared for Yuuri.
Here was a small collection of Viktor's love packaged into a box, given with a key to the home they would share.
The Russian stroked Yuuri’s cheek, “All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I am.” Yuuri sniffled. “You make me so happy.”
“Good.” Viktor gave him a gentle kiss.
Yuuri couldn’t help but blurt the one question he’d been mulling over all day. “What about you?” He asked. “Are you happy? Is it… different… than before?”
"Very different," Viktor beamed, "because now I know that even when I have a bad day, I'll get to come home to you." He squeezed Yuuri’s hand, “and that will always be enough for me.”
Viktor didn’t let go of his hand.
The two of them sat there, blissfully snuggled together on the edge of their bed. The silence was only broken by the noise of the party downstairs.
“Also, the rest of your present is on backorder," Viktor murmured.
Yuuri laughed, “I thought this seemed surprisingly understated for you.”
“But this is the part that matters.”
“I love it.” Yuuri sighed. “And I love you.”
“I love you too.” Viktor gave him a brief kiss. “We should probably get back to our friends. They’re going to think we’re up to something up here.”
"Yeah, probably," Yuuri got up, “but I’m kicking everyone out in forty-five minutes.”
Viktor followed, “I’m kicking them out in thirty.”
The couple left to return to the world below, hand in hand.