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Unlike Yuuri, Minako doesn't speak Viktor's language. Yuuri only remembers this when he rejoins her, after he asks her to teach Viktor about the expectations that come with having Yuuri as his soulmate.
"Right," he says when she points out his oversight. "I didn't think— I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."
She shakes her head, smiling fondly. "You still look nervous. You found him, and it sounds like he's excited to have you. What's wrong?"
Yuuri takes a slow, deep breath to settle himself. "I'm fine. It's nothing."
He sends Viktor a letter, explaining his mistake and apologizing for it. I sent for a translator, he writes. We didn't expect to need one. My teacher will visit when I find someone.
For two weeks, Yuuri spends every spare moment he has in Viktor's company. He finds a translator and learning materials to teach his language to Viktor. He keeps looking at the step counter on his wrist, enjoying the low numbers that indicate a distance he could cover in a fraction of a day.
He's jealous of Minako, who's free to spend more time with Viktor. When he can, Yuuri joins her. He enjoys watching his soulmate learn his culture's etiquette and manners, seeing a graceful and confident man stumble in his attempts to do things just right. Especially things Yuuri has been doing his entire life.
"This is funny to you," Viktor accuses, with no real heat.
Yuuri hides his smile in Makkachin's fur, but he knows his eyes still show it.
Viktor introduces Yuuri to his friends, his colleagues and employers. Initially none of them believe he's royalty, and when they do, they become very nervous, unsure of how to move and what to say.
"Did Viktor not tell you who I am?" Yuuri asks.
"He's a dramatic idiot," Yuri mumbles. "None of us thought he was serious."
Their opinions of Viktor are both amusing and enlightening. If Viktor wasn't so excited to join Yuuri, he might have felt guilty for taking him away from people who love him so much.
"I didn't try very hard to convince them you're an actual prince," Viktor admits later. "Yura was annoyed that I would say something like that, so I wanted to see his reaction when he realized it's the truth."
Yuuri laughs. "So this was intentional."
"They all thought I just meant you're pretty, and I let them. They were right either way."
Yuuri looks away, feeling warm.
"Do you dance, Yuuri?" Viktor asks, and like every time he does it, he sounds delighted to say Yuuri's name.
"Yes. But I doubt it looks like your dancing. I enjoy it. It's relaxing."
"Good. Your elegance would be wasted otherwise. The way you move, you were meant to dance."
Yuuri closes his eyes, just for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Viktor says. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No. Of course not."
The silence says Viktor doesn't entirely believe him. It stretches for a while, and Viktor changes the subject.
On the last night of Yuuri's visit, Viktor's friends put on a small private show.
"We didn't have the time to rehearse," Viktor apologizes. "I wish you could see us at our best."
"I'm sure it will be beautiful," Yuuri says, and he's right.
Viktor steals his breath away.
The translator doesn't accompany them on the ship. He takes his payment and leaves. Yuuri acts as Viktor's translator after that, and even Viktor can tell how uncomfortable Minako is with the arrangement.
"She's my teacher and my family," Yuuri explains, "but she isn't used to having me perform a service for her. No one is."
"Hm," Viktor acknowledges, watching with interest the way Yuuri's hands fidget with the ends of his sleeves.
The counters show the number one. So close.
Viktor has a kind of dazzling beauty, an intentional charm. Overdone, but somehow still effective. The longer they spend together, the more the paths of their future narrow down. Not all stories fit them, and Yuuri finds himself hoping for something... specific.
He didn't realize wanting could be scary.
"Do I make you uncomfortable, Yuuri?"
Yuuri's shoulders tense. "What?"
"Do I?"
"I don't understand why you'd ask me that."
"That's not a 'no.'"
"I—" Yuuri starts, and sighs. "You don't make me uncomfortable."
"What's wrong, then?"
"I can't dance on the ship," Yuuri says, trying to offer a truth that won't reveal too much. "I can't stay steady. Without that, it's hard to stay calm."
Viktor leans back into his chair and watches him. So close Yuuri can reach out and touch his knee if he wants to. The possibility tingles at his fingertips.
Viktor is waiting for a different answer. A more truthful one.
"You shouldn't do that," Yuuri says.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't push me."
"I want to know you."
Yuuri loves Viktor's smile. He doesn't look at it for long.
They spend a quiet evening together as Viktor tries to learn from pages Yuuri translated for him. He makes a comment praising Yuuri's handwriting, and asks a question regarding something he doesn't understand. He could do this in his own room, but he really only sleeps there. He stays with Yuuri otherwise.
Viktor wants to know him. Yuuri shouldn't be building walls. Not if they keep Viktor out.
"You're my soulmate," Yuuri says and Viktor looks up. "I only get one. If I mess this up, there's no one else."
Viktor blinks, being dropped into a conversation Yuuri has been working through for a while. "That's not true," he says. "Your teacher loves you. It sounds like your family does too. Even Yura at this point probably likes you better than me."
Yuuri laughs a little. Viktor's words attack the sentiment from a direction Yuuri didn't expect. Not telling him he can't lose this relationship, but that he'll be okay if he does.
Something about this approach resonates, but the lack of promises and reassurance makes him want to curl into a ball.
"I don't want to mess this up," he says again, quieter.
Viktor's gaze changes. Softens. "I don't think you will."
After Yuuri is done changing for the night, Viktor knocks on the door. He hesitates to let him in. No one but his family has ever seen him in such simple clothes, his hair in a braid. But in the end, more than he's nervous to be seen, he wants to share these moments with Viktor.
"I couldn't sleep," Viktor says. He holds up a book. "Can Makkachin and I join you?"
They sit side by side to read, with Makkachin a warm presence dozing at their feet. The step counter shows a zero. Yuuri likes seeing it.
He tries to read, but he's distracted by Viktor's hands. They twitch like they're having a hard time staying on his book. Viktor's eyes wander, following the line of Yuuri's braid. Yuuri's form is probably easily visible under so few layers of fabric. Yuuri feels just as exposed as he expected.
"I didn't realize your hair was so long."
Yuuri hums and keeps his gaze down, on the words that, despite the light, he can barely see.
"Can I touch it?"
After a moment, Yuuri nods.
Viktor closes his book and stands. He loosens Yuuri's braid. His gentle fingers comb through it, unraveling it, brushing the nape of Yuuri's neck as Viktor collects it into his hand.
"It's so healthy," Viktor says. "Mine was never this healthy when it was longer. It was fragile."
"You had long hair before?"
"For most of my life," Viktor says and carefully braids Yuuri's hair back up. "I only cut it a couple of years ago."
"With your silver, it was probably striking."
"It was magical."
Yuuri laughs. It's a little strained. "I should spend more time with your friends."
"To ask about my hair?"
"To see if the lack of humility is cultural."
"Oh, no, it's just me," Viktor says and returns to his seat next to Yuuri.
His silver hair falls on his face, obscuring one of his eyes. Candlelight glints in the other. In this light, he can't see any blue. Viktor's eye looks dark and deep, like he could drown in it. The skin of Yuuri's scalp is buzzing from the touch of Viktor's fingertips.
"Yuuri." Viktor's voice is soft.
Yuuri swallows. "Did you really come here to read with me?"
"I came here because I couldn't sleep," Viktor reminds him.
"Ah. Right." He looks down at his book and can't find his place on the page. The lines are all just vaguely familiar, read but not internalized.
He closes it.
"What do you think we'll be?" Viktor asks.
"I don't know. I told you, I want to find out."
"Is that how it has to go? Can't we decide, together?"
Yuuri closes his eyes. The room is too warm. Complicated feelings twist in his stomach.
"For someone like you," Yuuri says, "it's very rare for your soulmate to be royalty. For us, it's most likely our soulmates will be common people."
"I suppose that makes sense."
"Generations ago, a royal found his soulmate. He thought they were in love. Turns out... His soulmate followed his lead and did what he wanted. They ended up hurt. In a relationship they didn't want."
Viktor goes quiet, but sits a little closer.
"He changed the law," Yuuri continues. "Your rank... It's complicated, politically, especially since you're a foreigner, but current law limits the power we have over our soulmates. You don't need to earn it, it's true regardless of the kind of relationship we have. But still, I..."
"You're scared," Viktor says, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I'm sorry. You just seemed happy and excited, I didn't realize..."
"I am happy. And excited. And also scared."
Before, he didn't care what path their relationship would take as long as he had his soulmate. Now he does. Anything else would leave something missing.
"I should sleep," he says before Viktor can say anything else.
Viktor leaves.
Yuuri stays up for hours.
The next morning, he expects distance. He expects to share only a couple of hours with Viktor, translating Minako's lessons. He expects Viktor to take some time to think about the type of relationship he wants.
Viktor does the opposite. He sticks so close that Yuuri doesn't want to be seen by the ship's crew or any of his people. They stay in Yuuri's room, Viktor sitting by his side.
"You'll be busy when we reach the palace," Viktor explains. "You won't have much time for me then."
"I'll make time," Yuuri says, frowning. "I thought you'd want space after what I told you."
"Why, because you said you're kind?" Viktor smiles, turning and leaning into him. "Because you told me you don't want to hurt me? Because you care about what I want?"
Yuuri's head spins. "That's not what I said."
"It's what I heard."
Yuuri's hand rises to Viktor's shoulder, but doesn't push him away.
"Yuuri," Viktor purrs. "You're beautiful."
His entire body goes tense as the words wash over him.
"Just tell me what you want," Yuuri says. "Please. And don't lie."
"Hmm." Viktor touches Yuuri's cheek, cups it in a warm hand. "I think, for now, I want a kiss."
Yuuri closes his eyes. He doesn't dare be the one to close the distance, but he tilts his chin up, inviting Viktor closer.
The first touch of Viktor's lips doesn't have the confidence he expects. It's tentative, sweet, a brush of warmth. The second deepens slowly as Viktor's thumb strokes his cheek. Yuuri lets himself relax with a sigh and his hands slide into Viktor's hair. It's as soft as he imagined.
When their lips part, Viktor stays close. Yuuri can taste the warmth of his breath. It carries the aroma of the tea they drank together.
"You said," Yuuri starts, his voice unsteady, "you said 'for now'?"
"Mm?"
Somehow, even Viktor's questioning hum sounds pleased. Content.
"You said it," Yuuri insists, trying to gather his thoughts. "You said 'for now, a kiss.'"
"Oh. Yes. For now, a kiss. Later, maybe I'll ask to braid your hair every evening."
Yuuri shivers. "Don't. You don't understand, you..." His breath stutters as Viktor kisses the corner of his mouth. "Don't ask for every day. Not yet. Later, when we know each other better. If you still want to."
Viktor pauses. "Okay. So just tonight? Will you let me braid your hair?"
Yuuri nods. In the next kiss, he tastes Viktor's smile.