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i.
“Let’s play spin the bottle,” Victor heard himself say. Two player spin the bottle– what was he thinking? This was stupid, he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t have locked the goddamn door. He shouldn’t have forced Yuuri to stay like he had. But something in him wanted to, something in him needed this. Almost as much as needed something to eat. But that would be downstairs, where everyone else was, so Victor settled for Yuuri. He’d love to eat Yuuri’s face.
He hoped he didn’t smell. He hoped he wasn’t stinking up the room, for his aunt’s sake. And for Yuuri’s– he didn’t want to make him more scared than he already was. He tried to let out some pheromones– or, okay, a lot of pheromones– to cover the smell. Victor wasn’t too good at that though, who was good at controlling their pheromones when they were high, anyway? That was like controlling their hunger, which Victor certainly couldn’t do. God, he’d eaten so much tonight. And he’d just shown Yuuri all his empty wrappers and bottles. What if Yuuri thought he had an eating disorder or something? Or worse, that he was a messy person. And not like, leave clothes on the floor messy, like never wash dishes or put things in the bin or shower or wear clean clothes everyday messy. That would be bad. Yuuri would never want to kiss him then. Yuuri also wouldn’t want to kiss him if he found out he was high, so he was on thin ice. Victor swallowed at the plain, green sanpellegrino bottle in his hand. This was so stupid. Victor was better than this, too. He could do better than this. He could seduce Yuuri the proper way, or any way that didn’t involve two player spin the bottle. He could at least find out more about Yuuri first. All Victor knew about Yuuri was that he was cute and he was a year eleven scholarship student. And it would be a miracle if he remembered that by tomorrow, honestly. Why was he even doing this if Yuuri would eventually leave and Victor wouldn’t remember much of it? But he had to remember it, not the details, but the fact that he’d kissed the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen, surely.
Victor breathed and finally moved towards the bed, sitting across from Yuuri. He placed the bottle down and watched Yuuri’s face. The other man looked pensive. Well, at least he didn’t look totally freaked, or sad, and wasn’t crying or screaming. At least he hadn’t left yet. Victor was surprised that he hadn’t scared him away when he’d confessed to Yuuri that he felt sad, even lonely. Even more surprising was the fact that Victor hadn’t launched into a rant about it. Victor was proud of himself for not let it all hang out, for keeping his mouth closed. Less talking, more trying to get the cute boy to kiss him.
Yuuri looked like he was about to protest, but then Victor spun the bottle. It thankfully landed pointing to one another, and Victor heard himself speak again. “Oh, guess I’ll have to kiss you now.” Then Yuuri looked scared, and Victor had the fleeting thought that he should not be doing this, should not be kissing a stranger while very high, but he leaned across the space between them anyway. Yuuri squeaked and Victor kissed him.
Yuuri’s lips felt pliant underneath his, but the rest of Yuuri was stiff, frozen. Victor kept kissing him, moving his lips and crawling closer, hoping he wasn’t raping Yuuri with his lips. Victor hoped Yuuri would kiss back eventually, he thought Yuuri liked him. He’d seemed to like him during practice, anyway. Victor persisted, he was known for being good at that. Victor crawled closer, pushing the bottle away with his knee. His knees were almost touching Yuuri’s now, and still, nothing. Yuuri hadn’t even pulled away. But Victor decided he should. He stopped and sat on his heels, staring at Yuuri, who was still mostly still. Even his omega pheromones had stopped. Everything about Yuuri was completely frozen, as they stared at each other. Victor tried to study Yuuri’s face, tried to read it, and Yuuri almost looked… in awe?
But then, Victor was being pushed back, and he found Yuuri’s lips pressed against his own. Yuuri was kissing him! Victor felt Yuuri’s hand at his chin– he was grabbing his chin!– and Victor kissed back. He opened his mouth, letting Yuuri in, letting Yuuri have what he wanted from him. Victor wanted things from Yuuri, too, and kissing his lips was definitely one of them. God, he wanted Yuuri so badly. Victor felt Yuuri’s tongue and Victor almost cheered in delight. He had an omega, he had Yuuri, kissing him. He wanted more, he wanted Yuuri’s tongue and his cheeks and to kiss down his neck and–
Then, it was over. Yuuri had pushed himself away Victor and was staring at him in wonder, panting. What happened now? Was he going to strip, or something? Was he going to kiss him again? Was he going to lead him into a different position? Straddle him? God, Victor would love to have Yuuri in his lap–
Then, Yuuri left. He got away from Victor as quickly as he could and left, unlocking the door on his way out, and not bothering to close it again.
ii.
Yuuri was definitely beautiful– Lilia hadn’t lied to him there. He looked amazing in his suit and he held himself well. His big, curious eyes that raked their way across the lawn, and they looked exquisite. Doe eyes– that’s what they were.
Victor silently cursed himself for focusing on how Yuuri looked, first thing when he saw him. How very alpha of him.
Yuuri’s carriage pulled up at the start of the red-carpeted aisle and Lilia stepped out first, helping who Victor assumed to be Yuuri’s mother out first, then followed a brown-skinned boy, surely no older than Yuuri, and then Yuuri himself.
Yuuri’s suit jacket was massively tapered in– much more so than Victor’s, and his shoulders were much less square, unlike Victor’s jacket, which wanted to show off his masculinity. Yuuri’s white suit jacket was gorgeous, lace and all.
Victor couldn’t really believe he would be marrying someone who looked like that. He never expected him to look so… round? No, not round. At least, not in a chubby way. He was soft– he looked curious and not like he thought himself important. He looked beautiful, but not in the way he was expecting. Victor probably shouldn’t have assumed that his omega would be blonde or self-absorbed. He shouldn’t have underestimated Lilia. Now, this Yuuri, that was walking to meet him, he looked like someone who Victor might be able to get on with. Victor already sort of thought that, based on his interest in skating, but this Yuuri, this beautiful, curious Yuuri– he kind of looked like someone Victor could actually fall in love with. Not that he would. But, he was kind of his type. Not that omegas had types. God.
Victor tried to push all thoughts from his mind and just see. Just observe and see Yuuri, in all his beauty, walk down the aisle. He didn’t think of what he expected Yuuri to be, or what he wanted Yuuri to be. He just focused on this Yuuri, who was so close now. Victor shot his eyes away when Yuuri tried to seek them out and kept his eyes on the guy holding a book in front of him.
He felt Yuuri’s presence at his side– could smell him standing beside him. Victor spied Yuuri’s hands holding each other behind his back. Yuuri occasionally stole a glance at Victor, but not for long, and by the time the celebrant was in the thick of whatever he was saying Yuuri was looking a little flustered. Victor hoped the cameras wouldn’t pick it up, for Yuuri’s sake. Maybe they wouldn’t pick up that he was just outright staring at the other man now.
“Katsuki Yuuri, repeat after me,” the celebrant said, and Yuuri’s ears burned pink as his eyes settled on the celebrants. “I call upon the persons here to present witness that I, Katsuki Yuuri, take thee, Victor Nikiforov, to be my lawful wedded husband.”
Victor felt a warmth in his hand and realised that Yuuri had actually taken hold of his hand, and looked like he was smiling about it! “I call upon the persons here to present witness that I, Katsuki Yuuri, take thee, Victor Nikiforov, to be my lawful wedded husband,” Yuuri repeated, his voice small and little rushed. Victor wondered if Yuuri was nervous because they were meeting each other for the first time, or because of the cameras. Or maybe it was because Yuuri had his hand in his own. Victor wished they didn’t have to meet during a time where millions of people would be watching– Victor wanted to know what Yuuri would act like if they were alone. Or not alone, but just with their families. He wanted to know if he still would’ve taken his hand in Victor’s own with a smile.
“Victor Nikiforov, repeat after me. “I call upon the persons here to present witness that I, Victor Nikiforov, take thee, Katsuki Yuuri, to be my lawful wedded husband.”
“I call upon the persons here to present witness that I, Victor Nikiforov, take thee, Katsuki Yuuri, to be my lawful wedded husband,” Victor said, hoping the confidence in his own voice would make up for the weakness in Yuuri’s.
“You may kiss the husband,” the celebrant granted with a chuckle, closing the book Victor didn’t think he was reading out of. Victor knew this part was going to be weird and awkward, so he pulled the band-aid off and quickly turn to meet Yuuri’s lips, letting go of the hand that Yuuri had still been holding hostage and placing carefully on Yuuri’s jaw. It was awkward, understandably. It ended quickly, and for the duration of the whole thing, Yuuri hadn’t moved a muscle. Completely frozen.
But, then, like Yuuri had reanimated, he was moving and breathing again and pulling Victor in for a second kiss– one that didn’t feel stale or weird. It was good. Yuuri was a good kisser.
It gave him a sense of déjà vu.
iii.
Victor shouldn’t have loved Yuuri’s reaction as much as he did. Who responds to someone telling them that their real father had been hidden from them their whole life with kissing? Good kissing to– that was an important detail. Yuuri was a good kisser. Of course he was! It was Yuuri, and everyone knew that Yuuri was good at most things. Victor wondered if that was usual for Yuuri– to kiss someone to comfort them. Victor didn’t imagine so, but he could imagine it working quite well. In this case, it had.
Yuuri’s kisses were nothing short of brilliant, of изумительный. Yuuri, as a whole, was изумительный. And, Victor knew that he was the one to actually initiate the kissing, but Yuuri leaned into it. He wanted it. He was the first one to look at his lips, not the other way around. Victor was sure that Yuuri had wanted it just as much as Victor did. And, Yuuri had kissed him the second time. Victor had pressed his lips against Yuuri’s on an impulse, a fleeting thought that told him he should because Yuuri had never looked so beautiful, his lips so plump. But it was quick, ending before it seemed like Victor had needed, was needy for more kissing, because he couldn’t let Yuuri know how much he desperately needed him. But then Yuuri had kissed him again, this time much more than a chaste kiss they’d previously shared. Victor felt Yuuri’s hands on his body, and he let himself need it, because, after a kiss like that, Victor didn’t care about not showing how much he needed Yuuri. (It seemed like Yuuri had needed him too.)
Victor had leaned into the kiss, and he’d put his hand on Yuuri’s jaw, capturing him like he was going to run away. But, then it had ended. Yuuri had taken Victor’s hand away from his jaw and held it instead. Victor thought for a moment, not speaking. He thought, just for a second, had Yuuri not wanted the hand on his jaw? Had he wanted to reply to his kiss with another, but wanted nothing more?
“I’m not going anywhere, Victor,” Yuuri had whispered, his voice faint, but full of truth and meaning. Intention. It was intentional, what Yuuri had said– of course it was. Just like the first kiss, and then the second. Victor had poured his heart out to Yuuri, and Victor had wanted to. Victor had kissed Yuuri because he wanted to. Victor hoped Yuuri had kissed back because he wanted to, because Victor wanted everything Yuuri was going to give.
iv.
Yuuri wasn’t drunk, but Victor wished he was. Victor was kinda drunk– why couldn’t Yuuri be drunk? Victor thought Yuuri ought to be a great drunk. A fun drunk. Or, a sad drunk. Maybe both, at the same time. Either way, Victor guessed that once Yuuri had a glass, he couldn’t stop himself from having six more, and that was why, for tonight, he was refraining. One day, they’d get drunk together. Properly wasted. Shit-faced. Whatever. They’d do it one day, but tonight wasn’t it. If Yuuri was a wilder a drunk than Victor thought he was, then he’d probably made the right decision to stay sober, considering they were currently in a ballroom, with heaps of uptight, rich, fancy people. At least Chris was here– Victor loved Chris, and he hadn’t seen him in forever. It had been a little awkward talking to him at first, since the last time they’d talk Victor had been bawling to him on the phone, but shit was cool now. Everything was good. He’d kissed Yuuri three times– well, technically four, but he couldn’t remember that fourth one. He’d probably been high.
The three of them were sitting at a table as people around them mingled and danced and drank. Chris was nursing a glass of whiskey– Chris drank that now, apparently– and Victor had a champagne, sitting next to his mostly abandoned half-full wine glass. Yuuri had a glass of apple cider in front of him.
“So, what it’s like at the palace? Have you had to kiss each other to prove you’re together yet?”
“Chris, why would we have to do that? We’re married,” Victor defended, trying to avoid the topic of he and Yuuri kissing, even though it was all he could think about. But, he didn’t want Chris to know that.
“You sure don’t act like it– you guys aren’t even sitting next to each other. You look like you just met or something,” Chris pointed out. Chris was right, Victor knew that. They weren’t always so stiff– it was just that they hadn’t really hadn’t been together in such a public place before. Not since the wedding. Victor, and it seemed Yuuri too, didn’t know how to act. But, just to prove Chris right, Victor grabbed his two glasses, got out of his chair, knocking it over on the way, and plopped down next to Yuuri, spilling some wine on the white tablecloth on the way.
“Better?”
“Mm, you should put an arm around his shoulders– get real close,” Chris pestered, narrowing his eyes in a challenge. He knew I couldn’t back down from a challenge, not in front of Yuuri. Stupid alpha instincts.
Victor slung an arm around Yuuri’s waist instead, showing Chris he wasn’t scared to be close to Yuuri. He’d been plenty close to Yuuri– they’d kissed. What did he have to prove? Victor cocked an eyebrow at Chris. Yuuri licked his lips as Victor’s arm settled into the groove of his waist.
Chris cocked one back. (Chris and cocked shouldn’t be used in the same sentence.)
“Better?” Victor asked, his eyes flicking to Yuuri, who looked interested in Chris’ games.
“Maybe,” Chris smirked. “You might be able to do better.”
At that, Victor plucked Yuuri’s glasses off his face and placed them on his head, which pushed his hair out of his face and exposed his large forehead, but it was for a good cause. Victor felt Yuuri’s head drop onto his shoulder and heard him shuffle his chair closer. Chris’ brows shot up at how daring Yuuri seemed to be.
“Do we look like a couple now?” Victor asked, a matching smirk adorning his face that could compete with Chris’.
Chris lent back in his chair. “I think I’d have to have you to know for sure,” Chris pushed.
Victor reached for Yuuri’s jaw instantly, guiding Yuuri’s mouth to his. Unlike their first kiss, or their second one, this one was met with ease, like he and Yuuri had kissed a million times before, and like they did so regularly. Yuuri’s lips moved against his, and again, Victor was in awe of how good a kisser Yuuri was. How did he do that? How many people had kissed Katsuki Yuuri before he had? Damn.
The kiss had lasted longer than Victor had expected, and longer than Chris had asked for, and not on Victor’s account– this was all on Yuuri. Yuuri was kissing him, twisting his back in a way that shouldn’t be possible.
It did end eventually, with a flushed Victor, a surprised Chris, and slightly embarrassed Yuuri. Chris laughed, but that kind of laugh that ends as soon as it starts.
Victor’s arm didn’t leave Yuuri’s waist and Yuuri’s glasses didn’t leave Victor’s head that night.
v.
Victor loved Yuuri’s white and gold skates. Possibly even more than he loved his own. Possibly even more than Yuuri loved his white and gold skates. And Victor knew he loved them– anything Victor gave to Yuuri he’d loved. These skates in particular– they were a birthday gift. The skates were beautiful– almost as beautiful as beautiful as the boy they adorned. God, Yuuri was definitely better than the skates.
Victor followed Yuuri out to the rink and watched him circle the rink, gliding gorgeously. They had done this together so many times, Yuuri had done this ten million times more alone, so Victor moved onto the rink on autopilot. Skating over to Yuuri and following his movements also felt like second nature, and it didn’t bring up any questions from either them.
Yuuri didn’t question when they both slowed and skated so close to Yuuri he could feel the other man’s breath on his face and could smell his scent immensely well. Victor thought they ought to question what was happening, especially when Yuuri was leaning in to kiss him, and Victor was responding with a lean of his own. A kiss of his own.
Yuuri ought to question something. Say something. It had been a month since they’d last kissed, and they’d never spoken about it. Victor ought to say something, do something– other than weaving his fingers through the Japanese skater’s thick, black hair.
No one did anything, and they didn’t stop kissing for a while. They didn’t want to stop kissing– why would they?
Why would they want anything but each other’s arms and lips and scent?
Well, they didn’t.
Victor thought in that moment, he really ought to come clean about his feelings.