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It turns out Yuuri wants some space.
That’s fine, everything is fine. Everyone needs their space. The Grand Prix Finals ended just last week, but the Japanese nationals are soon, and the World Championships are in March, both of which Yuuri will definitely qualify for, so Viktor supposes that it’s natural to be stressed. Yuuri is easily stressed about things after all.
Still, Viktor can’t help but think this time, it’s different. The Yuuri he knows would at least tell him what’s on his mind. The conclusion of the Grand Prix Finals should’ve been at least somewhat of a relief to Yuuri, even if he didn’t win the gold medal. If Viktor was in Yuuri’s shoes, he would probably feel starstruck with finally being able to redeem himself from last season’s performance.
But if Yuuri thinks that, he has not so much let out a hint that suggests he does. And he’s been distant lately. So much so that he specifically requested to stay behind at the rink after today’s practice instead of walking home together like they always do.
So, Viktor is walking home alone. The day before New Year’s Eve.
“I must be too hard on him,” he idly wonders as he opens the door and steps into the Yu-topia foyer.
Mrs. Katsuki perks up from behind the counter, her plump figure bouncing in surprise. “Ah-- Viktor! Good evening, oh, where’s--”
“He’s dealing with some things, don’t worry, Mrs. Katsuki, and good evening to you too!” Viktor practically sing-songs as he heads up to his room.
Viktor’s room always reminds him of how heavily his life has changed since that one fateful night, during the afterparty of last season’s Grand Prix Finals, where a heavily inebriated Katsuki Yuuri asked him to visit the hot springs of Hasetsu and be his coach…
Leaning back against his couch, he amuses himself thinking that same Katsuki Yuuri had no idea that offer meant just as much to Viktor as it did to himself.
And look how far they have come!
Viktor is scrolling through footage of their practices on his phone, when a familiar female voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Viktor, forgive me, are you busy?” Mrs. Katsuki shakily says from somewhere beyond the doorway. Viktor could already hear her soft footsteps. But, it’s not like Mrs. Katsuki (please call me Hiroko!) to be troubled.
He sits up a little, tentatively. “No, you can come in.”
Mrs. Katsuki carefully shuffles into the room, her Japanese robes looking so large on her that she might trip over them at any second. Viktor gets on his feet to meet her halfway. “I need to ask you something,” she says, adjusting her glasses to get a good look at Viktor.
Viktor wants to give a witty remark in his sharp Russian accent like he would do with Yuuri, but the look on Mrs. Katsuki’s face tells him now isn’t the time to be playful. He gives her a questioning look.
She sighs. “He’s not too upset about the finals, is he? Tell me the truth.” There is genuine worry in her eyes.
Viktor had a feeling this was on her mind. He wonders if it is possible to care too much about your children. Mrs. Katsuki’s love for hers is so unconditional that it almost makes Viktor jealous, but not a malicious kind of jealous. He’s happy that Yuuri has a mother to care so desperately about his well being. It’s not something that Viktor himself could relate to. He takes the opportunity to grab her delicate little hands. “He tries so hard.”
“I wish I could read his mind, sometimes,” Viktor says in return, and gently laughs. “But Yuuri is fine, I promise. He has a lot to think about.”
“That’s good... I just want him to know how proud I am. When I tell him, I’m not sure if he listens. But he listens to you.” Her soft smile is heartwarming and at the same time, heartbreaking. Viktor thinks he would do anything to make this woman happy. He catches her staring at his hands, a glimmer of tears starting to form in her eyes.
Viktor is reminded of the many times Yuuri has shared how he feels about his family. How he knows they don’t treat him like a weakling. Yuuri absolutely cares about his family more than Mrs. Katsuki could ever know, even if Yuuri is too clumsy and awkward to express how he really feels sometimes.
She reaches out to caress the gold ring on Viktor’s right hand.
“Viktor, listen to me.” She takes a moment to briefly wipe her eyes. “Ever since you came into my son’s life, I’ve never seen him have so much ambition. Not since…” she trails off. “Oh, look at me, such a mess…”
“You’re not,” Viktor reassures.
“I haven’t seen him this way since he started competing. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him,” she finishes, still looking at his gold ring.
Viktor is a little stunned at the sudden intimacy of those words.
Is she giving me her blessing? Does she think we are engaged?
Oh boy. He knew this conversation might happen some day. He chooses not to fight it. Not for the world would he want to tear this moment away from Yuuri’s own mother. He blinks. And squeezes her hands.
“Thank you,” she continues, her voice low enough it could be a whisper. “He’s lucky to have you.”
Viktor isn’t sure when his mouth dropped open but he presses his lips together and nods at her.
“Trust me, I’m the lucky one.”
“Shit!” Yuuri calls, just before landing on the wrong foot, and a second later tumbling down onto the ice, skidding to a stop.
Viktor is behind him with an outstretched hand, but Yuuri merely sits up on his rear in defeat. He pounds one fist lightly against the ice, and shakes his head. “Did I do that?” Viktor says, and gives an apology before hearing a response.
“No, I’ve just forgotten how to land that second loop,” Yuuri answers, trying to match Viktor’s signature playfulness. And it works, hearing the other man’s genuine laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that’s from the heart, without an iota of embarrassment. Yuuri wishes he could feel the same.
“Something’s on your mind, then.” Of course Viktor has him figured out by now. But he doesn’t press the question, only searching Yuuri’s gaze for something, while still offering his hand. His eyes are warm, despite the chill of the rink. It’s comforting.
Yuuri ends up taking Viktor’s hand after all. “Let’s try again,” he hears as he gets stable on his feet. Viktor smiles, backs up, and glides away, expecting Yuuri to follow, and by god that’s what Yuuri will do. He could follow this man to the highest point in the world and back.
There’s something so enchanting about how Viktor moves on the ice, so effortless the way he skates like nothing, not even fear could stop him. Better: there’s something twice as enchanting about how Viktor wants to share his gift with him. It’s still crazy to think that Yuuri could be in the same league, practicing the same routine. For so long he has competed against Viktor, and longer now he has trained and grew with him, yet there is this lingering feeling that he might never catch up to him. As if breaking Viktor’s free skate world record at the last Grand Prix wasn’t enough of a signal.
How does he do it? Yuuri briefly wonders if Viktor has ever even been nervous on the ice before. A silly question, perhaps. But if he has, he is far better than Yuuri at not showing it. Even alone with him, on their signature rink in Hasetsu’s Ice Castle, practicing in the late hours of the night. Without hundreds of eyes carefully watching him from the audience above.
He considers if that’s something Viktor does only as a mentor, as if showing signs of nervousness would make him a bad coach and set the wrong example. If anything that would make Yuuri feel a bit better.
He has no reason to be nervous here. Why should I?
And the truth is as cold and undeniable as the ice he is standing on.
It’s been a long time since Yuuri saw Viktor be the one to tumble on the ice. Yuuri forgets everything he knows about gliding and balance to haphazardly run towards Viktor while squeaking out an are you alright mostly directed to his partner but maybe a little at himself.
“Yes, we’re late!” Viktor says as he gets up like nothing happened because he is just that awesome. “The mōnenkai tonight,” he continues, reaching to wipe his brow with one hand and grabbing his skate guards with the other.
“Oh. Right.”
Yuuri swallows hard. It’s the last day of the year, and Yu-topia is hosting their own New Year’s drinking party. It’s really an excuse to get everyone drunk, but the event is supposed to be about ‘drinking away the sorrows of the year’.
Not for Yuuri. He thinks that this year has been anything but sorrowful. He wouldn’t have anything to drink away. God knows he already drank away the humiliation of last season’s Grand Prix.
Yuuri wonders what new extremely life-changing event would happen if he drank that much again. He shudders at the thought.
“Bō - nen - kai,” Yuuri decides to say, correcting the other man, and he’s met with a pouting Viktor who has tried his very best to keep up with his Japanese skills since he moved to Hasetsu. “And okay, I’m glad you remembered.”
“Are you good to go?” Viktor asks, and Yuuri can sense the cautiousness in his tone. He’s trying. He really is, Yuuri knows it, and Yuuri is so thankful he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this man.
“Yes, let’s go. I’m sorry about yesterday-- really.”
Yuuri feels a palm pressed firmly on his shoulder.
“It’s alright. I promise.”
Yuuri’s suspicions were right, because his own mother appears to be on a level of intoxication that borders what Yuuri was like at the afterparty last year. She rushes over to him as he enters, and gives him a hug that feels just a little too tight and a little too long.
“There you are!” she says loudly.
“Happy New Year, Mom,” Yuuri says awkwardly as he tries to remove himself from her grasp, feeling anxious about everyone’s attention being turned to him.
“Don’t forget we need your input for the takoage tomorrow. Have anything in mind?”
Yuuri shrugs, and she hands him a drink with a wink, saying something along the lines of I know you’ll want something mild and Yuuri takes the opportunity to wander out the back door to the yard, where some of his neighbors are sitting around, watching a firework or two being set off. Not wearing a watch and not willing to step back inside to check the time, he guesses it must be close to midnight as he quietly sips the drink his mother gave him.
“We made it,” a voice says behind him, and of course it is Viktor. “Ooh, what's that?” he says as he gets closer, eyeing Yuuri’s drink.
“I don’t even know,” Yuuri answers truthfully just before Viktor grabs a hold of it and takes a sip of his own. Wow. Sharing drinks with him is a level of intimacy Yuuri is not exactly ready for.
The fireworks are getting noisier and brighter, to the point where their colors bounce off of Viktor’s face. Yuuri decides they look good on him. “So, for the New Year, how about you tell me what’s going on?” Viktor says as he hands the drink back to him. Yuuri almost missed that he asked a question at all.
Yuuri flinches a little, and there is hesitation in Viktor’s eyes. He’s seen that look before: on their first day of practice, when they hardly knew each other, and later; at the Cup of China, when Yuuri took first place in the short program for the first time against his peers and his bewildered coach was trying everything to calm him down.
A small part of Yuuri worried that if he butchered this, he might lose everything he ever had or ever will have with Viktor.
“Forget it, we don’t have to spoil the ni--”
Maybe it’s the light buzz of the alcohol, but some unseen force gives Yuuri a little more courage in the moment.
“Viktor, I would like--” Yuuri pauses and audibly gulps. “--I’d like you to be my New Year’s kiss,” he finishes, and closes his eyes, only to peek up at Viktor momentarily after a few seconds of silence. Yuuri thinks never has he spoken a sentence so quickly in his life.
“You’re kidding,” Viktor replies, and the look on Viktor’s face makes him think that this really might be the end. But Viktor’s unreadable expression turns into the stupidest, ear-to-ear grin Yuuri has ever seen on him. “That’s what was bothering you?”
“Well…” Yuuri doesn’t have a response. Was it silly? Probably. Yes. Fine.
The noise of the fireworks popping in their dazzling multicolored display suddenly feels deafeningly loud, and what Yuuri wouldn’t give to shut them up in spite of their beauty.
It’s always like this.
When shit gets so real, it’s overwhelming. Almost comically so.
But when I open up, he meets me where I am.
Viktor takes him by the chin, as he has done plenty of times before. And presses their lips together.
A thousand emotions swirl and twist inside Yuuri’s gut, there’s no way he can pick a word to describe this feeling.
When they part, Viktor is the one to break the silence.
“How’s that?”
“Wow,” is all Yuuri could say. He’s sure his voice cracked trying to get that out, but Viktor just giggles at him.
“Yuuri?”
Yuuri gives him a quizzical look, trying to portray the thoughts of this is really happening and I don’t know what to think.
“You told me you’ve never had a lover before,” Viktor goes on ever so casually. He looks straight into Yuuri’s eyes, and his own are captivating. “I would like to be your first.”
Yuuri’s face lights up in the most embarrassing shade of crimson -- it takes several seconds for him to remember how to speak again, but when he does, it feels as if a larger than life weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
“Okay.”
Maybe it was more than just the kiss. Maybe his feelings for Viktor that had been bottled up all this time needed a way out and Yuuri just happened to pick the most childish way to express this desire. But Viktor probably knew-- he always figures him out. And he doesn’t judge.
Yuuri likes that about him. More than anything.
How about ‘love’ was what Viktor suggested they pick for the kanji on the design of the kite the Katsuki family will display for the takoage tomorrow, after they kissed under the midnight fireworks several more times. Viktor decides that making Yuuri blush is his second favorite activity.
After skating with him, of course.