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The last day of the year had never been too exciting for Yuuri. Usually it fell right in between competitions, and he had been too busy to celebrate properly. The few times he hadn’t been too caught up with training, he had made it home to his family’s onsen, there they might have just a small gathering of friends and family. His mother would make steaming bowls of katsudon for all, but they would not dig in until after the New Year. “Akemashite omedetou gozaimasu!” they would call out from the front porch, as the clock struck midnight and the New Year had arrived.
It hadn’t been glamorous, but it had been tradition. This year, Yuuri knew, would be worlds different, not only because he was in Viktor’s home country for the holiday, but he was there for a competition and the other skaters had already passed around rumors of extravagant past New Years.
When asked about their New Year’s plan, Viktor’s heart shaped smile twisted with glee, and he held a gloved finger up to his lips. “Now Yuuri, why would I want to spoil the surprise! In Russia, New Years is even bigger than Christmas! I can’t wait to show you!”
While he was normally plenty excitable, Yuuri hadn’t seen his coach quite like this before, and it only made him slightly nervous. He had been trying to gather more information from the other skaters but it had been in vain, Viktor must have already paid off their silence.
Christophe had smiled knowingly and ruffled Yuuri’s slicked back hair, “Let’s just say Viktor’s parties have been historically more eventful than last year’s banquet hmm?”
Otabek and Yuri were a lost cause, as they met Yuuri’s question with identical blank stares before walking away in a uniform silence.
Even Phichit was no help.
“Stop worrying! It will be fun! This is supposed to be fun, Yuuri!” he had replied, patting his best friend on the back heartily before insisting on taking a snapchat together.
It was New Year’s Eve eve, and Yuuri was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket and watching one of the recent sportscasts on his phone. The two announcers were talking about the season so far, and making predictions for the upcoming competitions, something Yuuri had already watched several times. It was soothing to hear something he already knew, and he closed his eyes for only a moment before he felt a small tug on his shoulder.
“Yuuri?”
“V-Viktor?” Yuuri murmured as his eyes fluttered open to see his silver haired coach smiling at him.
“You shouldn’t fall asleep on the couch, Yuuri, come on, let’s go to bed.”
Yuuri nodded and followed him to the bedroom. He had elected to stay at Viktor’s apartment for the competition, since it was so close to the rink, and more private than a hotel room in a block of other skaters. Their alone time together had been few and far between since arriving in St. Petersburg, as Viktor knew so many people that if they weren’t warding off the press, they could expect to run into several people who wanted to catch up with the local legend.
During instances like these, Yuuri often retreated behind his boyfriend, and began to feel small. Those were the times it was hard to believe he was dating his idol, the Viktor Nikiforov, and he was paranoid that others thought that too. A nobody, a has-been and never-will-be skater, walking around with the reigning champ. The same nobody who had pulled him off the ice, and was now not only keeping everyone’s idol to himself as a coach, but was dating him too. Nothing made him feel more insignificant than those questioning gazes.
It didn’t faze his other half, however, Viktor was always happy to talk to a fan, pose for a snapshot, and often insisted on bringing Yuuri into the photos with him. Phichit had let Yuuri know that Viktor had once reached out to him for consulting on what he called “power couple poses.”
Yuuri didn’t feel like a power couple though, he felt small, like a shadow behind Viktor’s gleaming personality and accomplishments.
It was these thoughts that floated in Yuuri’s head until at last the sweet relief of sleep washed over him, Viktor’s long limbs entangled with his as he dreamt.
When Yuuri woke up the morning of New Year’s eve, he grasped at the sheets next to him, heart panicking until he heard a familiar voice with a strong Russian accent, singing from the shower. He made it through just half of Phichit’s snapchat story before Viktor emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips and his wet silver locks slicked back.
“Good morning lyubov moya,” Viktor purred, as he planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s head.
Yuuri smiled, his doubts from the night before fading as his eyes admired the view of his coach prancing around the room half naked. He still hadn’t gotten used to that sight, despite how often he had seen his partner’s naked form at the onsen and along their journey together. It always made the mornings a little better.
“Vitya, can you please tell me what’s going on for today?” Yuuri begged, as Viktor milled about the room dressing himself.
While a sly smile began to dance on Viktor’s lips, he extended his hand to Yuuri and led him to the window that overlooked Saint Petersburg. He gestured towards one of the tall buildings that loomed over the city, “Tonight, we will go to the top floor of that building, and attend the grandest party of the entire year. Chris has handled the guest list, Phichit has handled the decorations and details, and Yurio helped out with finding the entertainment—though I’m pretty sure he’s just having Otabek DJ.”
“Parties aren’t really my—”
“I know, but I think this one will be special,” Viktor cut Yuuri’s protest off gently. “I’m sorry, but this one means a lot to me.”
Viktor’s gaze was filled with something Yuuri hadn’t seen on his partner’s face before. Apprehension? Nerves? He couldn’t quite place it but it made his own fears seem insignificant for a moment.
“Of course, it’ll be fun to go together,” Yuuri conceded. The delight that spread to Viktor’s clear blue eyes was worth whatever the night had in store. He couldn’t help but think that he could never get a fill of that smile, and when Viktor looked at him like that, he didn’t feel so small.
“Almost ready?” Viktor called out across the apartment, he fixed the cuffs of his tux as he made his way into the bedroom where his boyfriend was finishing getting dressed. Makkachin bounded after him, the nerves and excitement of the evening had her all sorts of wound up.
Yuuri stood in front of a full length mirror, and turned to look at his coach as the silver haired man walked through the door. They each smiled as they spotted the other, all dressed to the nines. Each had on a tuxedo, Viktor’s black and Yuuri’s white; Yuuri’s hair was slicked back, his glasses set aside for the evening.
“You look breathtaking,” Viktor complimented, sliding his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and eyeing him appreciatively.
A blush crept across Yuuri’s cheeks, but he looked up into his partner’s eyes and the two shared a kiss before Viktor’s pocket began to buzz.
“Ride’s here,” he said almost bitterly, blaming the arrival of their Uber for the interrupted moment. Viktor gave his partner a last once over before offering out his arm, which Yuuri gladly took, giving it a tight squeeze.
They migrated downstairs and into the back of the Uber, where their driver only gaped for a minute at the silver haired Adonis and his stunning partner, who he was sure he had seen plastered on plenty of tabloids at the newsstands.
As Yuuri gazed out the window, he spied the tall building that was their destination for the evening and his eyes locked on to it for the remainder of the drive. He was still a bit nervous, as he had not attended something like this since last year’s banquet, which he had believed to be a complete, unmentionable disaster.
While Yuuri’s eyes were trained on the building, Viktor’s were on his raven-haired accomplice. He watched as his partner nibbled his bottom lip, and ran his spare hand against the door handle as if ready to escape at any moment.
“Yuuri,” Viktor spoke softly as though not wanting to spook him.
Yuuri’s gaze whipped around, his mouth open as his dark eyes met Viktor’s light ones. Viktor squeezed his hand three times, something he had started to do every time he saw Yuuri’s anxiety begin to get the best of him. Once, for reassurance. Twice, for understanding. Three times, to say ‘I love you.’
“I love you,” Viktor said, as he gave the third and final squeeze.”
Nobody had been lying about the grandeur of the night’s event. From the moment Yuuri walked in, the entire scene was almost overwhelming. Tinsel hung from every available surface, with white and blue lights wrapped intricately around every column and table. There were round tables with plenty of seating, topped with centerpieces of ballooned glass in iridescent colors that changed along with the moving lights from the dance floor. There were tables of food, and fountains of drinks that only added to the overall splendor of the room.
Viktor had to tap Yuuri’s arm to get him to snap out of his haze, and the look on his face was one of concern. The music was loud, (Viktor had been right, Yurio hired Otabek to DJ for the night) Yuuri saw Viktor’s mouth move as he voiced his concern under the pulse of the music. He waved the silent words away, and offered a genuine smile.
The party was overwhelming, but the familiar faces around the room, and Viktor’s presence at his side put Yuuri at ease more than he was expecting. As they began to take a turn around the room, Yuuri felt increasingly more confident, so much so that he stole away to find his best friend.
Phichit was next to the photobooth, taking pictures on his own phone. When Yuuri walked over, giving him an inquisitive glance, he held up a hand to stop him.
“I understand the irony, but these are easier to post!” Phichit insisted, as he offered Yuuri a silver boa from the props bucket.
The pair posed for a few selfies together, and a few other skaters even stopped by to join in while they waited for the booth to open. Among them was a tall, dark haired man who Yuuri wasn’t sure he had seen before, despite the skating circuit being a relatively tight knit community.
“Could be one of Christophe’s flings?” offered Phichit, noticing the question on Yuuri’s face. His friend merely nodded, and after Phichit had garnered enough selfies for a full album, Yuuri dismissed himself and milled around the party trying to find his boyfriend.
He recognized Viktor’s thick laugh from across the room, and his head snapped to attention as he made a beeline for the familiar sound, one that he could recognize anywhere.
“Yuuri! I wondered where you went,” Viktor cheered, a drink in his hand as he opened his arms for his other half. Yuuri sidled up to Viktor and waved to the group he was chatting with—Chris among them. “We were just discussing New Year’s resolutions! Do you have any this year?”
“I’m going to try for something more stable in the relationship department,” Chris offered, though as he did his eyes told another story as they gazed seductively towards a target across the room.
“I think I want to make my quads cleaner,” Yuuri contributed. He hadn’t thought about having an actual resolution, but his jumps needed work regardless, and maybe it was a resolution he could actually stick to, since so many of his past resolutions had lasted but a week. The year he tried to give up katsudon had been the shortest kept resolution by far. He directed his attentions upward at his boyfriend, “What about you, Viktor?”
His partner opened his mouth to reply, but he stiffened up suddenly, his eyes diverting to a figure across the room—the same tall, dark haired man from the photo session with Phichit, who was laughing heartily with another group.
Yuuri noticed the receiving end of that glare, and the pit of worry filled his stomach once more. He wanted to know why Viktor had stiffened up when he heard the man’s laugh. Chris had seemed to notice it as well, but he seemed to recognize the stimulus of the reaction.
“Viktor, someone must have brought him. You know that I would never—" Chris began, but Viktor waved his friend’s apology away, his gaze softening.
Yuuri had a million questions, but Viktor’s mask of a smile told him that now was not the time. In an almost robotic movement, his boyfriend finishing off his drink (vodka—neat) and turned in search of another, murmuring that he would be back in a minute.
“I didn’t invite him,” promised Christophe, casting an apologetic glance at Yuuri before he began to pursue his latest target.
Viktor came back as promised, and clung to Yuuri’s side for the remainder of the night, his glass consistently filled until it was replaced with a champagne flute for the countdown to the new year.
Yuuri, Viktor, Chris, Phichit, Otabek, Yuri, and the other skaters in town for the competition all gathered on the balcony to watch as the entire town erupted into one big party. They could hear people in the streets and other balconies begin the countdown:
“dyéseet’…
dyéveet’…
vóseem’…
sem’…
shest’…
pyat’…
cheetúirye…
trée…
dva…
adéen! S Novim Godom!”
The people of St. Petersburg cried out together as the fireworks began and bells began to chime to signal the new year. Viktor and Yuuri, amongst several other couples and some pairs of friends, turned to each other and took part in a New Year’s kiss. The others began to toss glitter and confetti both in the room and off of the balcony, down to the people-filled streets below.
“Happy New Year, lyubov moya,” Viktor whispered in his boyfriend’s ear, as he gave it an affectionate nip.
“Happy New Year, Vitya,” Yuuri agreed, forgetting about the laughing man for a moment as he brought Viktor’s lips down to his for another kiss.
Everyone began to filter off of the balcony, as the cheers died down in the streets. They had rung in the new year, but the competition wasn’t too far away, and most of the guests would still need to get up for an early practice the next morning.
It was nearly one in the morning on New Year’s day, and most of the guests had left the party, carrying shoes and jackets down in the lobby as they awaited taxi cabs, Ubers, and a few designated drivers to come around the corner and take them home.
Yuuri was upstairs, eyeing the glitter covered floors as he picked up napkins, plates, and bottles, that were strewn across the room. For a room that held so much grandeur and life only moments ago, it now looked empty and abandoned without the throngs of gyrating bodies, and loud laughter.
Laughter.
The laughing man.
Yuuri held several empty bottles in one arm, but he made his way to the balcony, where Viktor stood overlooking the city, his arms rested on the railing.
“Viktor?” he began, his voice steady though unsure. “Earlier…when we were talking to Chris…you seemed, tense?”
The sentence hadn’t meant to be a question, but it turned into one, as Yuuri watched his boyfriend, dreading his response.
Viktor was still for a moment before he turned around, a soft, almost melancholy smile on his face. “I heard a laugh I knew all too well…an ex, from years ago. He came with another skater, but I wasn’t expecting it…it caught me off guard.”
“Oh…” Yuuri looked crestfallen, as the answer had been what he had already assumed.
“I wasn’t upset for the reason you’d think..Yuuri, lyubov moya please don’t cry!”
It was too late, as Yuuri held an empty bottle in each hand, his arms fell to his sides, and his face was angled towards the ground as the tears fell, one after the other, in an almost steady stream. Viktor moved swiftly towards his beloved, engulfing him in a tight embrace.
“Yuuri—I”
“I know.” Yuuri began. “I know I stole you from the ice, and from everyone. I’m selfish thinking that you could be happy being my coach…being with me. I’m selfish to think that I could possibly make you happy. I’m selfish to think you would rather have dinner with me than go to these grand parties you’re used to. I’m stupid to think that would be what you would choose, over tall handsome skaters who don’t choke. Who can grow and improve, and aren’t constantly derailed—”
“Yuuri, please stop.”
It was a combination of Viktor’s pleas and the final push of Yuuri’s tears that silenced the skater. His shoulders shook with large silent sobs and his hands lost grips on the two champagne bottles which fell to the floor in a crash. Viktor quickly pulled him inside, away from the shattered glass, and set him on the couch.
“Yuuri, when I seized up earlier, I was shocked to hear that laugh I recognized, but that laugh only brought up bad memories.”
Viktor paused, taking a few clean napkins from the coffee table to dab at his boyfriend’s eyes. He cupped Yuuri’s chin in his hands, and rested his forehead against the warmth of his partner’s.
“Yuuri, I don’t want you to ever become a stranger, whose laugh I can recognize anywhere. I want to be the source of your laughter, and to be able to laugh with you, and share your joy. You are not selfish, I have chosen this path—Yuuri, I-I chose you!”
Yuuri’s sobs begin to stifle, and Viktor lets go of his chin, allowing his shoulders to slump. “You asked if I had a New Year’s resolution, yes?” he asked, flicking his silver bangs out of his face.
Yuuri nodded.
“My resolution, is to spend my life with you, Yuuri.”
Viktor slid off the couch, onto his knees, Yuuri’s hand clasped between his long slender fingers. “My resolution is to never have you as a stranger with a familiar laugh, and to clean up bottles with you every New Year’s day.”
Yuuri’s sobs had subsided and his heavy-lidded eyes met Viktor’s determined gaze. He parted his lips but Viktor shook his head, reaching into the jacket pocket of his tuxedo.
“I wanted to do this at midnight, to start the year off right, but I know you were anxious about the crowds and I thought it might be better to wait until—”
“Viktor…” Yuuri whispered, as Viktor pulled out a small box from his pocket and brought one knee up to rest it on.
“Kastuki Yuuri, I have always chosen you, and I want to do so as long as you’ll let me. I love you with my entirety, and I couldn’t bear to let you become a stranger. My resolution is to spend my life with you, if you’ll let me.” Viktor popped the box open, to show two golden bands, shining against the black velvet. “Kastuki Yuuri, will you marry me?”
Yuuri’s sobs resumed, but the bright smile on his face assured Viktor they were happy tears as his boyfriend nodded his head vigorously. Viktor enveloped his shaking partner in his arms again, and as he stabilized, removed a ring and placed it on Yuuri’s finger.
Yuuri returned the gesture, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, smiling as he saw the light bouncing off of his boyf—no, his fiancé’s ring. His doubts were washed away. Viktor chose him. Viktor had always chosen him. It didn’t mean he would never have doubts, but as long as Viktor was there to help him through it, he knew they would be alright.
“Happy New Year, lyubov moya.”
“Happy New Year, Vitya.”