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Fuck, Viktor thinks, this isn't what he wanted.
No, no, no.
Not like this, dear god, not like this.
"I need to talk to you about something." The words solemnly leave Yuuri's mouth, as softly hued brown eyes stare at him with a glassy sheen.
He shifts uncomfortably on the couch, edging closer to Yuuri when he wraps his hands around Viktor's, bringing them up to his lips for a ghost of a kiss.
It hurts. Viktor's jaw tightens, his teeth starting to worry his lower lip. It so painfully hurts.
It's so achingly real that he can't help it when he looks up at Yuuri with the most agonizingly hurt look on his face, because he knows what's about to come.
Time seemed to echo and waver as the soft 'tick-tock' of the clock in the background melds into something intense, something so tangible that Viktor could practically taste it. He could taste the sharp tang of anxiety nipping the roof of his mouth.
"Let's end this."
Yuuri whispers so, so, so quietly, because something that dangerous shouldn't be allowed to be spoken, something that could cause one's heart to twist and thrash so furiously as Viktor's did didn't have the right to ever leave someone's mind as a thought, much less someone's lips as a sentence.
Especially not Yuuri.
Not Yuuri Katsuki, because the world would break.
And so, that's exactly what happens at 3:04 pm, the world breaks.
Viktor feels the need to throw up, the need to latch onto Yuuri and never let go, the need to establish that no, there was absolutely no chance in hell that he would 'end this'.
So when he feels Yuuri's grip tightening against his hands and he snaps out of his depressing reverie, when he focuses on Yuuri's face and sees the most beautifully torn expression he'd ever seen, eyes exactly in between the lines of bursting and welling-up, lips so softly downturned into the gentle slopes of a pout, eyebrows creased into an exceedingly breath-taking position of sublime heartbreak and pain, Viktor's mask is pulled off and he is left defenseless.
Unarmed and vulnerable.
"No," his voice cracks, the feeling of scalding tears bursting down his cheeks like a broken dam, he pulls Yuuri's hands into a tight entwinement, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Yuuri's, which was warmer that he'd thought.
He gnaws on the inside of his lip, opening a single eye to look at Yuuri, a blurred blob behind the delicately woven fibers of tears on his eyelashes. "Never," he says fervently, before meeting the warm and plush feeling of Yuuri's lips on his mouth. Yuuri remained still and frozen to Viktor's heated and desperate advances, if only for a while.
Viktor let go of Yuuri's hands to reach up and cup his face, his thumb running softly against his cheek, slow and lovingly, a stark contrast to his heavy kisses. It was then when Yuuri finally, finally, finally, finally complied, lips slowly moving in sync with Viktor's, matching his pace with familiar ease.
"Yuuri," Viktor breathes through kisses, "I love you, I love you."
Glass shards break into fractals and dig into Viktor's skin when Yuuri parts his mouth to gasp out a broken: "I love you too."
Viktor's tears surge at the sound of his fiance's conflicted and cracking tone, a sound he never wanted to hear.
It hurt. This hurts. It hurts so much.
"CUT!"
Suddenly, their tearful embrace was snipped apart by the harsh glare of spotlights, two pairs of eyes squinting to readjust.
"Vitya, what the fresh hell was that?!" Yakov fumed, angrily kicking a chair to the side.
Whimpering, Viktor pulled himself off of Yuuri, wiping his tears on the sleeves of his sweater. And Yuuri looked so fucking gorgeous, hair mussed up and lips swollen, tear tracks present on his face as well. (It was good to know that he wasn't the only one who was so disastrously affected.)
"Viktor Nikiforov! Listen to me!" Yakov bellowed, causing Viktor and Yuuri both to snap their heads in his direction.
"What was that?!"
"I, um--"
"Your script clearly says that Alexei gets up and leaves Kazuhiko, not that they cry and make-out! You can't completely abandon the whole script, idiot!"
Yakov's gruff voice boomed throughout the set, sheer force causing Viktor to flinch, face souring into a slightly twisted frown--
one that is immediately alleviated when Yuuri's hand meets and laces around his.
"But Yakov! Yuuri's too much of a good actor, it affects me in too many ways!"
(At this, Yuuri flicks Viktor's wrist, and Viktor could practically see Yuuri's blush growing on his face.)
"That's how it's supposed to be! But let it affect the audience, not you, dammit! Just because your fiancé is your co-actor doesn't mean you get to pull shit like this, Vitya!" Yakov grunts, scowling at Viktor. "15-minute break! Get the makeup team to cover these idiots' reddish eyes and noses, and make them look as if they didn't just have sex in the janitor's closet--"
("Oh, we've done worse," Viktor giggles softly, glancing towards Yuuri, to which he is met by another flick, but on the forehead. "Keep quiet, Vitya!" Yuuri scolds in half-embarrassment, and half-shyness, a pretty little flush creeping from his cheeks to his neck. Viktor only chuckled in response. "Anything for you, zolotse.")
"--and then we'll continue!"
The murmurs of crew suddenly pick up, people doing what it is they have to do in the short span of 15 minutes. "Hey, Yuuri?" Viktor asks, slowly leaning back into Yuuri's chest. "Yes?"
"You-- you'd never leave me, right?"
"Of course, Vitya," Yuuri answers fondly, pressing a kiss to Viktor's head. "Never."
"Because I'd never leave you, okay?" He whispers, snuggling closer to Yuuri as a pair of familiar arms wrap around him, tender and warm.
"Alexei's a dick," he mutters, a bright, sweet laugh resounding from Yuuri's mouth, just before the makeup crew came and whipped them back into their performance ready state.
Nothing has ever been brighter.
"Take 3!"
"Let's end this."
"O-oka-- no! Yakov, I still can't do this!"
"Take 5!"
"Let's end this."
"Yuuuuuuuuriiii! You can't look at me like that, it isn't fair!"
"CUT!"
"Take 14!"
"Let's end this."
"..."
"Viktor? Viktor? Viktor! Stop crying!"
"BUT YUUUUUURIII--"
"Take 25!"
"Let's end this."
"Okay. If that's what you want, Kazuhi-- I CAN'T DO THIS, I'M LYING TO MYSELF--"
"CUT! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, VIKTOR!"
"Take 26!"
"Let's end this."
"Oka-- fuck. Fuck shit, I can't do this, Yakov!"
"CUT! YOU HAVE FIVE FUCKING OSCARS--"
"But Yakov! This hurts me in a spiritual and physical level!"
"FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, THIS IS WHY I'M BALDING VITYA--"
"Take 31!"
"Let's end this."
"Okay. If that's what you want, Kazuhiko."
"......."
"Are you sure?"
"Alexei....."
"Yuuri, are you sure? Because I'm not, please don't leav--"
"CUT! CUT! CUT!"
"Take 42!"
"What time is it-- oh, are we rolling? Oh, um, damn, sorry."
"KATSUKI!"
"It's Katsuki-Nikiforov, Yakov!"
"Viktor! The wedding's next year!"
"CUT! SHUT UP!"
"Psst, Yuuri, 'cut-suki', get it?"
"That sucked."
"VIKTOR I'M GOING TO CUT YOUR LIMBS OFF--"
"Take 48!"
"Let's end this."
"Okay, if... if... fuck, I forgot my line--"
"Are you fucking shitting me-- FINE! DIM THE LIGHTS, GET POPOVICH A SILVER WIG AND PLACE NIKIFOROV ON STANDB--"
"No, Yakov, wait!"
(bonus round unlocked: yuuri)
"Take 72!"
"Let's end this."
"Okay. If that's what you want, Kazuhiko. Fine. Fine!"
"..."
"I never thought you'd turn out to be such a selfish human being."
"Alexei..."
"What?! You're the one who can't handle the pressure and wants to break this off, aren't you?!"
"Ale-- Alexei, please."
"You can't deny me the right to be mad! I h-- shit, Yuuri? Yuuri, are you okay?"
"CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WE WERE ALMOST THERE!"
"Yuuri, please stop crying, you're going to make me cry too--"
"I HATE ALL OF YOU--"
"Yakov, I'm sorry-- I'm so sorry, I just-- I--"
"Oh Yuuri, what've you done? Now I know I can't film this godforsaken scene--"
"Viktor no, don't-- don't cry, please, Viktor!"
"You can't scold me for crying while you're crying!"
"I HIRE TWO ACTORS WITH A TOTAL OF 11 FUCKING OSCARS AND 9 FUCKING GOLDEN GLOBES, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?!"
"Don't be mean, Yakov! We're having a moment!"
"SHUT UP, YOU NINCOMPOOP!"