Work Text:
Victor Nikiforov was many things. He was a world champion skater, multi-gold medalist, national treasure, and, according to Yakov and Yuri, a pain in the ass. Still, despite all of the other things he was, Victor Nikiforov was also magical. Most people would agree with that; the way he skated was certainly entrancing and as close to magic as most people would ever get, but that wasn’t quite right. His skating earned him gold medals, and while it was certainly a boost to his pride, his reason for desiring gold went deeper than wanting to prove himself the best.
After all, dragons tend to be attracted to shiny things.
Yakov had tried to warn him against it, tried to tell him winning gold medals wasn’t the same as keeping a hoard, but Victor had scoffed and mentioned he did have a hoard, thank you very much. It was just out in the country, and he lived in the city. The gold medals were a good substitute for during the skating season.
Whenever he had time, he’d shift into his dragon form, a large, silver beast taller than the buildings of St. Petersburg when at full height, though for this he always made himself the size of Makkachin. Then he’d gather all his gold medals and trinkets, some he’d smuggled from his hoard to make a proper nest, and curl up with Makka. His amazingly good girl wasn’t frightened of him at all and loved the extra warmth he provided.
But it had been a while since he’d been able to do his secret ritual. After Sochi, he’d dropped everything to follow a Japanese skater half way around the world, only able to take his medals. Nesting in the onsen seemed too dangerous with so many people around, and he hadn’t actually needed to nest in his miniature hoard. His dragon was after a far better prize than shiny metal, and his nesting instincts were satiated by curling up around Yuuri, even if he was in his human form.
Now, though, back in St. Petersburg, he was getting restless. His human skin was getting itchy, and he yearned for the comfort of a golden bed. There was just one problem.
Yuuri.
Victor hadn’t told him yet, and honestly he didn’t want to. Yuuri was just becoming comfortable calling Victor his fiancé at competitions; the “hey I’m a dragon and I really need to nest on my gold medals to be comfortable” conversation seemed a bit much.
But Yuuri wasn’t home today, at a scheduled practice with Lilia that Victor wasn’t invited to. He had the apartment to himself sans Makka, but she liked cuddling. Maybe if he was careful, if he didn’t take too long…
Spurred by the itch at the base of his spine, Victor quickly snags all of the medals from his trophy case, slipping under the bed to pull out the rest of his golden hoard. He shoves it into a messy pile, unable to take the time to properly nest.
As soon as it’s some sort of lump, he’s out of his clothes and shifting, changing. Makkachin peeks her head into the room, barking at him. He rumbles out a comforting sound, stepping into his hastily made nest and settling in. As wary as she’d sounded after not seeing him like this in almost a year, Makka follows, curling up under one of his wings. Sighing, Victor closes his eyes, just for a few minutes.
The sound of Makkachin barking wakes him up. He’s groggy, obviously having needed to switch back ages ago, but awake enough to wonder why his dog has left their little cuddle pile.
“Vitenka?”
Yuuri!
Victor panics, rising from his nest and nearly banging his head against the ceiling. He’s accidentally grown in his race to make everything look normal, still a little too asleep to fully comprehend what he’s doing. Yuuri can’t see him like this! He turns in a circle, trying to remember how to get back to human form.
“Vitya? Are you…”
Victor lets out a distressed noise as the bedroom door creaks open and Yuuri steps in. He looks to the bed first, then immediately towards the bathroom, which Victor is blocking. His brows shoot into his hair, mouth gaping open.
For a moment, they both just stare at one another, unsure how to proceed. Makka peeks inside, snuggling up to Yuuri as she happily barks that Yuuri’s home!
Yuuri takes a single step back. “I can explain!” Victor rushes out, backing up against the wall to make himself less of a threat. His voice is rougher in this form, but still very much his.
Blinking, Yuuri’s face relaxes, looking less shocked and more confused. He tilts his head to the side, regarding him. “V… Victor?”
“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.” He tucks his tail between his legs, head ducked to keep from poking holes in the ceiling with his horns. “I…”
“You…” Yuuri blinks once, twice, three times. “You’re… I know Yuri calls Mila a witch, but I didn’t think….”
“It’s not a curse. And Mila isn’t a witch.” He pauses, cocking his head. “At least I don’t think so. I’m just…” He motions vaguely to himself.
“A dragon.” Yuuri finishes for him. “Does anyone else know?”
“Yakov.” Victor answers, touched Yuuri’s first thought is to protect his secret. “Chris, though we’ve never spoken about it. He just sort of… guessed.”
“And that’s it? Just those two?” Yuuri sighs. “I really don’t know how to process this.”
“You seem to be taking it well actually.”
“Oh, no. I’m pretty sure my brain has just shut down; I’m panicking. You’re a dragon.” Yuuri reaches out a hand, then retracts it.
“You can touch.” Victor lifts his head, craning his neck so Yuuri can reach. After a moment of hesitation, Yuuri extends his hand again, letting it land in the middle of Victor’s snout. His eyes widen in wonder, hand tracing around individual scales. It almost tickles, and Victor has to try not to sneeze.
“How long…”
“My whole life. We aren’t common, but my family has pretty ancient draconian blood. I’m usually fine to be human for a while, but occasionally I need to shift. My hoard is out in the country, so in the off season I usually take a few weeks off to stay out at the family home.” He leans into Yuuri’s touch, eyes closing in contentment.
Yuuri regards the large creature with awe, all trepidation long gone. “When was the last time you changed?”
“After Sochi.”
“After… Vitya, it’s been a year!”
“I was a little busy!” Victor opens his large blue eyes, sending Yuuri a piercing look that makes him blush. “Besides, I was fine. My instincts to nest in my hoard can be overwritten when I’m hunting.”
Yuuri takes a small step back, hand pulling away. Victor makes a disappointed noise. “Hunting?”
The dragon shakes his large head. “Not like that. Like treasure hunting, to add new things to my hoard.”
Yuuri’s hand settles back against his nose, placated. “So what were you hunting?”
“Are you really asking me that when you’re standing in the middle of our bedroom?” Victor asks pointedly, making Yuuri laugh. “I liked you, my dragon liked you, so it only made sense to follow, give chase. You weren’t what we had expected after Sochi; you were so much more, and I didn’t want this to ruin everything we’d built. We aren’t exactly great at communicating.”
Yuuri has the sense to blush, agreeing with Victor’s assessment. “It’s certainly… different. But I’m not scared. Honestly, it almost makes sense, especially with your preoccupation with winning and displaying your gold medals.”
Victor glances behind him at his messy nest. “I should clean up.”
“ Or, you can keep napping and I can cook dinner.” Yuuri offers. Victor adores him.
“Counter offer.” Victor perks up. “We order in and you cuddle with me while we wait.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes, but agrees anyway. Victor trills high in his throat, letting Yuuri call in their order and change while he rearranges his pile of gold. He carefully grabs a blanket off the bed with his claws, just to keep Yuuri comfortable instead of having to lay on cold metal. This has gone better than he ever imagined. Not only has Yuuri not run screaming from the apartment, he wants to cuddle. With a dragon.
By the time Yuuri renters the bedroom, Victor is hopping from one foot to the next impatiently. As soon as he sees Yuuri, he’s nudging him forward with his snout, still trilling. “Okay, okay!” Yuuri laughs, hands against his silver scales. “Let me climb in before I fall in!”
Victor steps back, still shuffling as Yuuri steps inside, settling in the little bowl Victor carved in the middle. Before the dragon can move, Makkachin makes her presence known, darting into the nest and curling around Yuuri who laughs at her. “I guess Makka wanted cuddles too.”
“She’s usually my only cuddle partner.” Victor admits, gingerly stepping over Yuuri to curl around his treasure. The gold shifts slightly with his weight, and Victor makes himself smaller to compensate for the extra bodies inside. His head rests to Yuuri’s left, meeting his tail so the Yuuri and Makkachin are surrounded by dragon on all sides, protection at its finest.
His eyes close, content, and a low purr vibrates in his chest. He doesn’t stir when a hand begins running along the scales of his snout. “You look so happy.”
“I am.” Victor keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to break the quiet and tender moment. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“A human captive?” Yuuri jokes, but Victor can hear the yawn in his voice. He’s drifting off already, barely in the nest for one minute.
Victor huffs out a chuckle. “Someone I love, and who loves me, safe and sound and not afraid of me.”
It’s a hard thing to confess, especially when he’s had to hide this part of him for most of his life. If it wasn’t out of fear he’d be taken away and experimented on, it was out of necessity, so no one would steal him for parts. Dragon-hide would sell well.
Yuuri presses kisses along whatever part of Victor he can reach, counting scales with each one. “I could never be afraid of you. I’ve seen you cry over Ghibli films.”
“They’re so pretty, Yuuri! And…”
“I love you.” Yuuri cuts him off, smiling. “Even when you’re crying over Ponyo.”
Victor huffs, smacking his tail on the ground. “I suppose I love you too. Even when you don’t listen to me and smash your face into a wall doing a jump I expressly forbid…”
“Hey! Unfair!”
“Im still your coach, darling. Now, get some rest before dinner. Coach’s orders.” Victor says smugly, curling all the closer to Yuuri and Makka.
Sighing dramatically (Victor really must be rubbing off on him), Yuuri leans back, propping himself up using Victor’s side. “Yes, coach. At least your rule about only kissing gold makes more sense now.”
Victor smiles, relaxing as he feels Yuuri’s breathing even out, a sign he really is asleep. Maybe in a few weeks he’d talk to Yakov about taking some time off. Perhaps Yuuri could be convinced to take a trip to the country. And maybe, just maybe, gold wouldn’t be the only treasure he’d hoard from now on.