Work Text:
Immerensis
/ih·muhr·en·sis/ · noun
The maddening inability to understand why someone loves you – that although you hear their words and feel their emotions… You think about who you are and can’t fathom the thought that people love you unconditionally as if you are a con artist whose days are numbered.
Loneliness was a familiar blanket that Viktor had grown accustomed to. An uncomfortable feeling like wearing a sweater from the dryer that still clung to the bit of dampness of the wash. Or the feeling of having a really good workout and longing for a hot shower, only waiting for the whole day for the promise of that perfect stream beating away the tension and washing off the dirt and grime. Before he had even realized it himself, he had been consumed by the shadows of depression. Not even remembering when was the last time he had indeed found a moment of joy in his life.
It wasn’t as if he could talk about his feelings. He was a world-famous athlete, and he had won almost every major competition in his sport. He had no reason to be depressed. Life, to outsiders, was more than what anybody could ask for. But for him, everything was empty. His life held no meaning other than to wear the mask that those around him wanted. The wold wanted him to be a flirtatious Playboy. Then he would down the many spirits of courage found in a liquor bottle. Whoever was with him for the night wanted a faceless lover. He would swallow the bile of self-destruction as he threw himself in a loveless throw of passion. Some new students of Yakov’s needed a mentor… Viktor was there to guide them to the best of his abilities. He was only a pretty face. Played dumb when required. Shined bright like a star. Always careful to keep that mask on.
And then he met Yuuri. Their talk on the beach as he prepared himself to give whatever he wanted. S friend? A father figure? A lover? He could be whatever that man desired. But the response from that man still blows him away, even years later.
“All I want is for you to be who you are.”
Just him. Just Viktor. He didn’t want Viktor Nikiforov, the Living Legend of Russia. He didn’t want them Skating World’s Biggest Playboy with the seductive smile. He didn’t want a friend or some kind of familial relationship where he could guide him. He didn’t want a mentor to teach him. Yuuri just wanted Viktor. The Viktor that would lick his finger whenever he turned a page of a really good book. He wanted the Viktor that would scrunch his nose up as he snorted. He wanted the Viktor that had bed head and morning breath. He wanted the Viktor, who wasn’t perfect.
Viktor sighed deeply as he looked at the sleeping man on his bed. He could see how his features were so peaceful, and he wasn’t full of his anxieties and self-doubt. It was as if he were an angel that blessed Viktor with his mere existence. How did he ever find himself so lucky to have this man love him? This man was the very embodiment of Eros. Regardless if he was in his peak skating body or his after-season chub. And with a few years now of being retired, he still found him irresistible. The smile on his face could rival the sun with just how bright it was.
He felt like an imposter when they finally started dating. How could somebody as wonderful as Yuuri ever want to be with him? When he realized that Viktor was broken beyond repair. That he was nothing that everybody else seemed to claim, and he wasn’t worth his time. He never would be. No matter how desperate Viktor wanted to be good enough for Yuuri. Viktor was inept in that regard. He didn’t know how to be himself. He only knew the ice and how to please others. He didn’t even know who he was. How could he give Yuuri himself if he didn’t know the first thing about who he really was? How could he love when he didn’t know the first rule about love… Loving yourself. But Yuuri met him where he was at. It was the first time anyone had ever done that. The feeling Yuurigave him was addicting. He wanted to feel again. Yuuri made him feel more than just apathy.
Loving this man made him learn to love himself again, and it scared him initially. Yuuri breathed life back into him. He made him more vulnerable to those he once thought only wanted to see him fall. He helped him realize that Viktor had friends that genuinely wanted the best for him. They weren’t just competitors, and they weren’t just rink mates. It made him feel guilty for thinking that he was alone and surrounded by the cold darkness of his mind.
Slowly, Viktor crawled out of bed. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of Yuuri’s head. Careful not to wake him up, Viktor got dressed, threw on some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and made his way out of the bedroom. Makka followed after him. Her tongue lulled out as she figured that she would be getting her morning walk. Viktor couldn’t help the smile on his face as he looked down at the old poodle. She was his best friend and only friend for so long. He scratched the back of her ear as he began making the morning coffee. He looked at the rice cooker and chuckled. He figured that he could make some rice for breakfast.
Quickly he got it ready the way Yuuri’s mother had shown him. He threw the rice into the rice cooker and turned it in. By the time he returned from the walk, breakfast should be partially ready. A new day was waiting for them, and one where Yuuri would remind him of the lessons he sometimes forgets. Ones that reminded him that no matter what… He was loved, and Yuuri cherished him. Even on days like this where he felt like a pretender… Viktor will always find his Life and Love.