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Russian winters are frigid.
This was something Viktor knew to be fact, something he’d experienced all throughout his life. Ever since he was a child, he hadn’t known a winter that wasn’t cold enough to freeze his joints, his muscles, his lungs. Logically, he knew all of this to be true.
Russian winters are frigid. However, in this moment, Viktor was nothing but blisteringly warm.
Sure, it had more to do with the man holding his hand in the pocket of his coat as they made their way down the salt-stained streets of St. Petersburg than the actual weather, but Viktor found it pretty remarkable nonetheless.
“Yuuri, where do you want to eat today?” Viktor asked as they walked. So far, they had just been mindlessly wandering down the streets, taking in the icy beauty of winter and the way it had transformed the world around them, but he could feel the light tremors building in Yuuri from where their hands were clasped. Yuuri, not yet adjusted to the chill of Russia, often found it too cold to stay out for long, and Viktor didn’t want his love to get uncomfortable.
“Well, are there any good cafés around? I’m not all that hungry,” Yuuri answered. Viktor tapped his index finger to his lips in thought, before he remembered a lovely little place he’d frequented the season before he’d met Yuuri. It almost felt like a lifetime ago, now, but he could still remember how he had yearned for someone to share the gentle, golden atmosphere with.
He knew instantly that it would be perfect.
“Oh! I know just the place,” he grinned. “Come on, Yuusha!” He tugged his husband excitedly by the hand down the street. filled with the joy of being alive, here, with Yuuri, and it only heightened as he heard Yuuri laugh and felt him speed up to match Viktor’s eager pace.
—
“God, Vitya, you were right, this place is amazing!” Yuuri said. The glow of the string lights made him look absolutely radiant, skin all but glowing in the golden light, as he smiled at Viktor from across the table. Viktor couldn’t help but return his smile, meeting glimmering hazel eyes over the small arrangement of fake flowers. He reached out and grabbed Yuuri’s hand from where it had rested on the table.
“I’m glad you like it, darling.” He raised the hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. Yuuri’s cheeks dusted pink, gentle in the warm light, as he kissed the gold band on his hand, holding it to his lips for as long as he could before a smile broke out on his face. He lowered his hand back to the table, but didn’t let go. Instead, he reached for his paper cup of coffee and took a long, slow sip. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yuuri’s blush deepened, but he too turned back to his food.
They ate in relative serenity, punctuated with the scrapes of forks on plates and the gentle brush of thumbs across knuckles.
As Viktor finished his food, he cradled his coffee cup in his free hand and leant back in his chair, admiring the soft look of joy on his husband's face, the one that mirrored the way he felt. God, Viktor had never seen a prettier sight than his Yuuri, glowing with a tender, blissful sort of joy.
‘I’ll do whatever I can to keep it there, for the rest of our lives,’ he promised, brushing his thumb gently, slowly, across Yuuri’s hand. He’d never wanted to do anything more. It was the highest honor he could think of; the privilege of living forever beside Yuuri, getting to see that beautiful joy cross his face every day, getting to be the reason it happened.
“Vitya?” Yuuri called, drawing him out of his thoughts. He hummed, looking up to Yuuri’s expectant eyes.
It took him a moment to realize Yuuri was holding his fork out to him.
“I can’t eat all of this alone. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Now, Yuuri had said that he wasn’t all that hungry earlier, so he very well could have been telling the truth. But, he also knows that Yuuri loves sharing things with people he loves; from sharing his favorite tea with him, cooking him all of his favorite childhood recipes, even gifting him a sweater from his favorite clothing store. He remembered asking once, and Yuuri’s response had just been that he enjoys things more when the people he loves could enjoy it too.
Now, looking into Yuuri’s eyes, he could see the same look that he had whenever he brought him a cup of his favorite tea in the evenings. So, despite the fact that Viktor himself wasn’t even all that hungry, he opened his mouth and leaned forwards. His eyes never left Yuuri’s, reveling in the glee that flitted through his eyes, even as he chewed and swallowed.
The joy he saw in Yuuri’s eyes as he accepted the food made him feel a deep, heavy sort of warmth, settling right into his chest. Although he couldn’t quite give the odd sensation a name, it was one of the most heavenly things he’d ever felt.
—
That morning, after they ate, they headed to the gym in the arena for their off-ice conditioning day.
Before, Viktor used to loathe those days; hours spent doing sets, in a seemingly endless cycle. On those days, he had only his own thoughts and the trembling of his muscles as he pushed the limits over and over. It reminded him too much of the late nights he spent alone in his bed, chest and throat burning and aching. Those days had been frequent, far more than he’d ever admit.
But now, though, those days were behind him. It had all changed. He loved off-ice conditioning days.
He and Yuuri would spot each other as they lifted weights and cycled through their sets. They would steal sweat-tinged kisses between reps, and encourage and compliment each other’s form, all to the very audible disgust of little Yurio. It was sweet, blissful, and beyond his wildest dreams. It was all so domestic, so ordinary and regular, that it felt real in a way Viktor could only ever dream of. In every shared set, every stolen kiss and every word of encouragement, Viktor could practically hear the repeated declaration that hung stagnant in the air; I love you, I am here for you, and I want you to be here for me. I want this. Us.
Even in Viktor’s own mind, it sounded a tad dramatic and overly romantic, but his Mama had always taught him to find the beauty of love everywhere he looked, and after so long of being unable to find it, he wanted to never be anything but overwhelmingly absorbed in it again. If that meant being too dramatic, or reading too deeply into any slight romantic action, then he would continue to do so with pride.
Today, naturally, was no different.
As he met Yuuri at the bench press to spot him, the man in question surprised him by stealing a quick but deep kiss from his lips, so fast that by the time he comprehended what was happening and moved to reciprocate, Yuuri had pulled away and was moving to lay down on the bench.
Viktor was grateful his face was already red with exertion, because it hid the blush that burned across his cheeks.
Yurio gagged dramatically as he walked by on his way to the weights.
“God, get a room, freaks,” he muttered, and the two of them merely locked eyes, then giggled. It only served to make Yurio even more furious, and before long the two of them were helpless to the teenager’s angry ranting. Even still, as he gazed between Yurio, whose face was bright red with fury, and Yuuri, whose face was a similar shade, but due to laughter, he lamented on the magical way Yuuri seemed to make everything better, just by existing. In the past, he could have never even dreamed of this level of happiness on a day like today. He could have never even fathomed it.
Of course, Yurio noticed the lovesick looks he was sending his husband, and instead resorted to physically attacking Viktor to get him to stop.
As Yurio yanked him around, Yuuri, through sharp bouts of laughter, called for Yurio to stop. Despite the pain building in his arms and his scalp from Yurio’s assault (seriously, why’d he have to go for the hair, it’s already thin enough) he couldn't help but feel a warm, glowing sensation build in his chest.
—
That night, they made dinner together, working in sync in the kitchen, bumping hips and shoulders. They ate a quick dinner of stir fry vegetables and salmon, then curled up with tea on the couch.
All throughout the day, Viktor couldn’t stop thinking about how much Yuuri had affected him. He had given him happiness; the sweetest kind, tender and infinite, even in his darkest times. But there was something else there; something he couldn’t quite name. It permeated every inch of his being, deep in the parts of himself that he couldn’t even face. It didn’t fix those jagged, empty, painful parts of himself, and maybe nothing ever would truly fix it, since there’s really no fixing things like that, no magic cure, but it did help. It made it easier to look at those parts of himself and deal with it, to say ‘I am in control; you are real, you are a part of me, yes, but you do not define me’. And for that, Viktor would be forever grateful.
He pulled Yuuri close, letting his lips fall onto the crown of his head.
“I love you, my Yuuri,” he murmured into the thick raven strands, voice wavering ever so slightly. Yuuri turned to look up at him, smiling, but with an edge of confusion.
“I love you too, Vitya, always,” he responded. He placed his mug on the table in front of them. then shifted to face Viktor head on. His hand went up to cup his jaw. “Is there anything that brought that on?”
Ah, his Yuuri. Ever observant. After living together for as long as they had, with a relationship like they had, Yuuri could read him like a book, now.
“I was just thinking about how you’ve changed my life. Life used to be so different, so much harder, but with you around, it’s different, now. You make all my days brighter and warmer. I don’t think I could ever repay you for that. You truly are a blessing I don’t deserve, солнышко.” He leaned down and kissed Yuuri, trying to infuse the feeling he couldn’t name into the kiss. When they broke apart, Yuuri gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
“You deserve good things, Vitya. I’m happy I can make things better, but I’m sorry they were ever bad in the first place. You’ve changed me too. More than you could know.”
Viktor dove forward into Yuuri’s chest. His arms instantly came up to embrace him, one hand in his hair, and one smoothing over his back.
Viktor pressed his lips to the hard edge of Yuuri’s collarbone, breathing in the smell of vanilla and cinnamon and something so distinctly Yuuri that it made him feel safe. Again and again, he left little kisses all along his lover’s collarbone, his scent and his arms swirling tightly around him.
That night, they’d gone to bed together, after a quick shower. In bed, they laid wrapped up together, like they’d been on the couch, except this time Yuuri’s head was resting on Viktor’s chest. The steady rhythm of Yuuri’s breathing on his skin lulled him into a peaceful state, and before he knew it, he was half asleep, warm with his lover in his arms.
“Vitya?” Yuuri hummed.
“Yes, love?”
“I meant what I said earlier, you know. I really do love you, very much.”
“I love you too, my Yuuri. Always and forever.” That feeling came back, stronger than ever.
He just buried his face in Yuuri’s hair and took deep breath after deep breath, focusing on the warmth of the body pressed on top of his.
Viktor drifted off to sleep, senses enveloped in it.
—
The next morning, he woke abruptly.
It was still early, early enough that even Viktor himself wouldn’t usually be awake at this time, but something had roused him.
He looked down at Yuuri, who was still curled up against him, head on his chest, arm draped around his ribs. Viktor loved seeing him like this; so peaceful and calm, like he’d shed all of his worries and struggles.
Glancing beyond his love, he looked over to the alarm clock placed on Yuuri’s nightstand. 5:00 AM, in bright red. The room was only illuminated by the red glow cast by the clock and by the moon, silver tendrils snaking through the curtains and reflecting off the walls in long, thin beams.
He looked back down at Yuuri again as he hummed and shifted, reaching his arm further over Viktor as he seemingly tried to get even closer. He smiled, brushing his hair out of his face delicately.
The feeling was back again, stronger than it had ever been. It built and built inside of his chest, pushing as though it was trying to burst out of him. He thought back to what had caused it, the day before. It had always been something Yuuri had done, or some way he’d looked at him, or even the way he looked. Hell, sometimes it had just been his mere presence that set it off.
He thought back to the words they’d said last night, how Yuuri had said that he loved him with such devotion, such tenderness, that even his insecurities and his anxieties couldn’t refute it. He realized, in replaying the memory of the conversation in his head, that his tone sounded the exact same, to his ears. And he meant it. He’d never meant anything more.
When he was a child, his Mama used to read him fairy tales. There was nothing extraordinary in that fact, as it was a fairly regular thing to do with children, but Viktor always remembered what she had told him, one night. He couldn’t remember anything else about the day, but the interaction that night had always stood out to him. He told his Mama that he could never picture himself as the prince in any of the stories, that he didn’t think he could be charming and heroic, and he certainly couldn’t save a princess. His Mama had simply brushed his hair out of his face, kissed his forehead, and smiled at him.
“My Vitya,” she’d said, “It’s okay. You don’t need to be a prince to be loved. All you need to do is be you. That’s more than enough, малышонок. I promise, the special person for you is out there. You just have to be brave enough to open yourself up to find them.”
“But how will I know if I’m really in love with the special person?” He’d asked her as she’d tucked him in. She had sat down on the edge of the bed, fussed with the edge of the covers with gentle hands. She had been making sure he would be warm through the night.
“You’ll know, зайчик. Your chest will feel like it’s bursting with warmth, and you’ll want to be with them forever and ever. They’ll make you feel like you’re caught up in a wonderful dream.”
“I can’t wait to be in love,” he’d hummed. His mother had merely beamed at him and stroked his hair, and before he knew it, he’d drifted off to sleep.
Viktor had thought of that memory time and time again, through every quarrel with an ex, every new crush, every dead-end relationship he’d had. He’d thought about what his mother said and what he’d felt, and always knew then and there that his partner wasn’t right for him. Each of the relationships had ended shortly thereafter. In those relationships, he’d been always thinking, always trying to ascertain whether or not it was actually right that sometimes he was living more in his own head than in the real world out of fear of messing up. At the time, he’d simply thought he was a cold, calculating person. Now, though, he knew it to be a defense mechanism, one he created to protect himself after one too many heartbreaks.
Maybe it was foolish to base his entire perception of love around something his mother had told him as a child, but it wasn’t like he had any other experience with it. As the saying went, if the shoe fits, wear it.
Ever since he’d been with Yuuri, though, it was different. From the start, his feelings had always outweighed his thoughts. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he could be his real, authentic self, no masks or no calculated images, no trying to work out if they were compatible or if he would have to change himself yet again to suit them. No, it was different with Yuuri. He’d never felt so free. He could be himself, his real, imperfect, rough around the edges self, and Yuuri never made him feel lesser for it. As a matter of fact, he embraced him all the more because of it.
Yuuri loved him.
This was an undeniable truth, and as much as Viktor was afraid of that realization and what it meant for himself, Viktor loved him too. Over the course of his time with Yuuri, his love for him had carved itself deep into his chest, nestled itself within his ribs, wrapped around his lungs and sunk right into his heart. He loved him so wholly it made his chest burn, heated with all of the emotion he carried for him.
Wait.
Chest burning?
‘Come to think of it,’ he thought, a sense of calm despite the overwhelming notion in his head that he should be anything but, ‘I feel like how Mama said love would be about Yuuri. I feel exactly how I always dreamed I would.’
Well, this must be what love is.
This is what love is.
It rang through his head, over and over as he looked down at Yuuri. His Yuuri, curled in his arms. It was so natural to him. His Yuuri. Yuuri was his, and he was Yuuri’s. It felt like a fact, like it had been decided long before either of them were born, like it was just the way things were.
This is what love is.
This is what life is.
Of course it is.
Viktor had always known it, in a sense, but he'd never consciously realized it. He’d never reconciled his deepest, strongest held hope with the reality in front of him, but now that he had, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Now he couldn’t stop thinking it over and over, as though a dam had been lifted in his mind.
This is what love is. This is what life is.
This is it; the sleepless nights spent worrying, the apathy, the failed relationships and heartbreak, it had all led to this. And it was worth it. Viktor would do it all again and more if it meant he got to feel like this. It was just like his Mama said. It truly did feel like the most wonderful dream, but it was real. He was holding the source in his arms, breathing the same air and sharing the same life. The same future.
His heart swelled with that realization. A pulsing warmth ran through him, so strong that goosebumps rose throughout his body. He never could have imagined that he would be so in love it would go through his entire body. He could never have even imagined that such a love could exist.
No, scratch that. This isn’t exactly as I had dreamed of. It’s better; somehow, it’s better.
He always did say Yuuri made everything better.
“This is what love is,” Viktor whispered, grinning as he wound his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.
And then the tears started.
His throat burned with suppressed sobs. He held onto Yuuri tighter as the tears flowed down his cheeks.
This is what love is.
His chest quivered as he tried to breathe steadily, hitching on every inhale and thick with tears on the exhale. God, this is what love is.
It’s laying in their shared apartment, in their shared bed, safe in each other’s arms. It’s sweaty kisses and shared meals. It’s clasped hands in coat pockets. It’s traded whispers of “I love you, always” and intimate, serious, emotional conversations about things they couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone but the other. It’s early mornings spent wrapped up in each other’s arms, fingers running through hair and bodies pressed close.
This is love. This is life.
“Vitya?”
He looked down, and saw Yuuri, awake, face awash with concern. His eyes glowed in the moonlight, shining with concern. Viktor tried to speak, but it came out as a sob.
“Vitya, honey, what’s the matter?” Yuuri pushed himself up onto his knees, turning so he could face him. Viktor just shook his head as he sobbed. He couldn’t tell him that nothing was wrong, in fact, it was that everything was right.
Maybe with anyone else, Viktor would have felt ashamed of crying over that as hard as he was. But, with anyone else, though, he wouldn’t have a reason to be crying the way he was. With anyone else, he wouldn’t feel this safe, this overwhelmingly happy.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Yuuri cooed, leaning forwards to press a kiss to Viktor’s forehead. His hands came up to cup Viktor’s jaw tenderly, swiping delicately at the flow of tears that spilled down his cheeks. He pressed kiss after kiss to his tear-stained cheeks, to his swollen eyes and his stuffed nose. Viktor sobbed harder, head floating with the pure, unadulterated love he had for the man in front of him and the love and tenderness he was being shown. It overwhelmed his senses in such a heavenly way, so consuming that it stole the breath from his lungs.
“It’s okay, Vitya, you’re okay, baby. We’re okay, everything’s just fine,” Yuuri murmured. Viktor nodded, but still couldn’t speak through the sobs. Yuuri just smiled at him lovingly and kept wiping away his tears.
Yuuri pressed his lips to his brow in a long, soft kiss. Then, he whispered, “I love you so much. I’m right here with you, baby, it’s all okay.”
Viktor let out a strained cry at that, feeling a new swell of tears flow down his cheeks. Yuuri withdrew his lips and met his eyes again. Every inch of those brown eyes had deep devotion written across them. ‘I love you,’ he tried to say, but all that came out was a mess of cries, broken syllables and vowels strung together with gasps and whimpers. He mouthed it again, locking eyes with Yuuri, making sure he was clear. Yuuri, beautiful Yuuri, nodded, smiled and stroked his cheek with his thumb.
“I love you too, Vitya. I love you so much.”
Viktor had never felt so strongly before. It was so overwhelming, he was swept up in it.
He reached out a shaking hand and placed it on Yuuri’s chest. He could feel the steady beat of his heart under his hands. As he had been doing more and more frequently over the past year, he found himself reaching out to Yuuri to ground himself.
“There you go, baby,” Yuuri said softly. He took one of his hands off his cheek and brought it down to wrap around Viktor’s own, pressed firmly to his chest. He gave him a tender smile. “Just breathe, Vitka. You’re okay.” He dusted gentle kisses over his forehead, his cheeks and his nose as Viktor breathed, grounding himself in the tender presence of his lover.
Eventually, the tears stopped, leaving his head feeling cloudy. His breathing slowed back to match Yuuri’s, smooth and steady. As soon as his arms stopped shaking, he reached out and pulled Yuuri on top of him, clutching at him tightly. Yuuri had merely laughed and wound his arms around his neck, nuzzling into the junction where it met his shoulder.
“What happened, Vitya? Was it a nightmare?” Yuuri asked.
“No, darling,” he said, voice rough and uneven with emotion, “it was my wildest dreams coming true.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“You. It’s always you.” He took a breath to compose himself, then explained.
“I was thinking about how much you’ve impacted my life, and how you make me feel. When I was very young, my Mama told me all about love, and how it would feel. ‘Like you’re living in the most wonderful dream,’ she’d said. Every single relationship I’ve had, I thought about how she said it would feel to be fully in love with someone. It never even came close. But all throughout today, and every day that came before, you’ve made me feel so loved. I always knew I loved you and you loved me, but I guess I never truly realized just how much until it was all I could feel. It was all I could think about, and I just got swept up in it.”
For a moment, Yuuri didn’t say anything. He just pulled Viktor closer to him. Then, after pulling in a deep, shuddering breath, he responded.
“My Vitya,” he said, voice thick. “You’re my wildest dream come true too, don’t you ever forget it. I love you too, baby. I love you so much more than I could ever express, more than I thought was ever possible. You changed my life in all the best ways. Always remember that. I love you, and I would gladly spend the rest of my life and beyond making you feel loved and happy.”
At that moment, Viktor felt a complete, whole sense of safety, along with that glowing feeling of love. He pulled Yuuri down to lay on top of him again, laughing breathlessly. He could feel Yuuri’s answering grin on his neck.
They laid there together, wrapped up in their own little world, at five in the morning. Here, he had the man who made love a reality and not just a dream he held onto for comfort cradled in his arms. Yuuri, all around him was real, his breath against his skin was real, his heartbeat pressing against his chest was real, and it was all that mattered to him at the time.
After what he thought was a few minutes, although it could’ve been much shorter or longer, Yuuri started to hum. It was slow, gentle and quiet, and it took Viktor a moment to realize what exactly he was humming. It was only at the chorus that he realized; Stammi Vicino.
Our song.
Viktor began to trace the routine of their duet on Yuuri’s back. Yuuri stopped humming for a moment to press a kiss to Viktor’s collarbone, then continued.
After he reached the end of the song, he sighed softly, content. He looked over at the clock, then looked up at Viktor. He sat up and turned to face him, carding a gentle hand through his hair.
“I’m gonna make some breakfast, okay?”
Viktor nodded, and moved to sit up to go with him, but Yuuri moved his hand down to rest against the center of his chest. “You can stay in bed and get some more rest if you want, baby, I don’t mind.”
Viktor smiled and took Yuuri’s hand into his own. pressing his lips to it softly.
“I’m not tired, and even if I was, I can’t sleep without you,” he said. Yuuri just chuckled and shook his head playfully. He pulled Viktor up to sit up with him, then swatted his shoulder gently.
“You really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you,” he said, tone exasperated, but the grin spread across his face gave him away, though. As Yuuri got out of the bed and moved to the door of the bedroom, Viktor followed, close on his heels.
“Only for you, золотце.”
Yuuri just shook his head once more as he crossed into the kitchen, giggling all the while.
—
Although Viktor went with Yuuri into the kitchen, he didn’t really help him cook at all. Really, all he did was slow him down, but Viktor didn’t think he should be blamed for that. Any sane person would want to cling to Yuuri as well, he reasoned, so really he shouldn’t be singled out and persecuted for actually being able to do it.
Viktor clung to Yuuri, arms wrapped around his waist, as his husband flipped pancakes on the stove. Yuuri swayed gently to the music playing on the little radio on the counter, a rhythmic acoustic song with crooning vocals. He was shifting from foot to foot as if he was trying to soothe Viktor by rocking him. If he was less tired and more mentally present, he probably would’ve protested indignantly (but he would’ve put up with it solely for the sake of his husband, of course, no other reason), but as he was emotionally and physically exhausted, he simply let his husband spur him into movement, smiling into his shoulder all the while.
As Yuuri turned to grab plates out of the cupboard on his left, Viktor whined at being jostled.
“Vitka, why don’t you go sit down?” Yuuri asked as he portioned the pancakes onto the two plates evenly. Viktor gasped, scandalized.
“Never, not without you,” he giggled. Yuuri sighed, reaching up to stroke Viktor’s hair gently.
“You are so extra sometimes.”
“Mhm, but you love me.”
“I do.”
The song that had been playing on the radio ended, fading out slowly. Then, a song with a rhythmic, repeating beat came on.
Yuuri gasped, then turned to face Viktor, taking his hands in his own.
“I love this song,” he said, “will you dance with me?”
Is that even a question?
“Always.”
He pulled Viktor away from the countertops and wrapped his arms around Viktor’s waist, pulling him close. Viktor slung his arms around his neck, grinning at him.
They held onto each other, faces close together, swaying to the melody, breathing in the same air. Viktor had always craved this kind of closeness with someone, the kind of intimate contact and connection that came from undemanding, mutual love and devotion.
All of Viktor’s weariness, his stresses and his worries slipped away as he swayed with his husband and sunk into the music floating around them.
And I feel life for the very first time,
Love in my arms and the sun in my eyes.
I feel safe in the 5am light,
You carry my fears as the heavens set fire.
Jump into the heat,
Spinnin' on our feet,
In a technicolour beat.
You and me,
Caught up in a dream.
In a technicolour beat,
Beat,
Beat,
Beat.
Viktor’s heart beat alongside Yuuri’s, connected from where their chests were pressed together, their eyes were locked and their breaths were synced.
Through the window behind them, the sun began to rise.
Viktor had never felt so happy.