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Despite everything that he told himself, Victor couldn’t deny that there were times that he wished he could hear.
Whenever he visited Yuuri’s café, he would sit near the counter as sweet latte burst over his taste buds, and Yuuri’s kind, round face encaptured by long strands of dark hair occupied his line of vision. At times like these, he would be foolish to think that he would have things any other way. After all, it was a blessing by itself being able to simply look upon Yuuri; he was undeniably gorgeous, and his tightly curved skaters’ figure was moulded so perfectly that he even managed to make the shop’s simplistic uniform look like a designer piece.
He spoke enthusiastically with wide eyes to his co-worker, and then threw his head back in laughter. A beautiful smile swept its way up from Yuuri’s teeth, sinking right into the creases set at the corners of his eyes.
Ah. His expression was so gloriously happy that Victor’s stolen heart picked up to an embarrassingly high rate.
But he couldn’t lie to himself. His pale fingers grew even paler as his right hand tightened around the mug’s warm ceramic handle. His hand became covered with a layer of sweat as his unwavering gaze focused on Yuuri’s flushed lips.
He wanted to hear his laugh so badly. But he feared that if he heard it once, he would become addicted. Never again satisfied with just a look, just a touch, just a smell. As it was, he would traverse an entire galaxy if it were for Yuuri’s sake. He’d get naked in front of Yuuri’s entire family if he had to, if he hadn’t had already done so anyway.
But would he use his hearing aids just to catch a little of Yuuri’s laugh? He really didn’t know. If it were important, something for Yuuri’s sake, then he would do it in a heartbeat. But would he risk having a flashback or a panic attack just to indulge himself in his love for another man? The last thing he wanted to do was to associate someone as enchanting as Yuuri with terrible memories. A meaningless war waged on by itself between Victor’s temples. He knew it was inane to be considering something so unnecessary, but still, the thought of simply catching a note of Yuuri’s breath as he etched delicate swirls into the canvas of ice with his skates excited him. Undeniably.
If only he could do what his family had told him - if he could “just get over” his trauma, he would be able to hear some of those things and more. He wouldn’t be such a burden to Yuuri, either. And he would be able to sing to him in tune, gift him a mixtape, maybe even learn to compose --
“It’s just a hearing aid, get over it ”, they had told him. If there was anyone worth ‘getting over it’ for, it had to be Yuuri.
He was torn away from his inner turmoil as the marvellous smile on Yuuri’s lips melted into a concerned frown. Victor blinked at him as he turned away from his coworker.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ Yuuri signed shakily, his hands still unused to the gestures. A worried expression covered his face as he nibbled at the corner of his lips with a sharp canine.
Victor didn’t know how Yuuri did it, but with one sentence, he felt as if all of his disquiet had been disentangled into a delicate calm.
All of Yuuri was right there in front of him. His voice may have been a part of that, yes - but there was nothing in the tone of his voice that would change what Victor already knew of Katsuki Yuuri. Whether his laugh were a terrible snort, or a fragile song, Victor knew he would find it just as endearing as his smile. Yuuri was still Yuuri, the same person who blushed the colour of beetroot if Victor held his hand, brewed the world’s best latte, and had in-depth conversations with his dog as if he were a human being.
Victor leaned forward onto the wooden tabletop, heart tight as an involuntary smile worked itself into his cheeks. He breathed in the familiar scent of coffee beans.
‘I’m more than okay.’