Work Text:
In Yuri's eyes, there was nothing imperfect about Viktor. There was only perfection in every piece of skin, every sparkle of his eyes, and every strand of hair. There was no flaw among the double helix ladder of his DNA, among the pores of his flesh, among the words he mumbled when moments away from sleep.
In Yuri's eyes, Viktor was perfect.
There's flaws in his thinking. There's flaws in what he says, what he does, what he believes but… Viktor fixes it, and he moves on. A brief lapse in imperfection is only a small dip in the ripples of flawed waters, then its back upon the fluffy clouds and clean air of perfection.
In Yuri's eyes, Viktor's perfection is not what the dictionary says perfection is. It's perfection that makes him smile, makes him laugh. It's perfection that fills his mind, his body, his soul and his heart with warmth that the cold of the ice could not ever penetrate. Its perfection that peppers his face with kisses, that kisses him good night and good morning, that kisses him 'sorrys' and 'I love yous' and 'you're so fucking amazing'.
His perfection is his love, his warm, inviting, secure, and oh so blissful love.
Before Yuri made a come back on the ice, he didn't know how he did it. What made him continue to skate, to continue practicing, what kept him from quitting. His life before Viktor was filled with "I'm not good enough" and "I'm replaceable". It was filled with imperfection, with flaws, with kinks and dents and marred surfaces.
In Yuri's eyes, Viktor was the buoy keeping him from drowning, the rope keeping him from falling, the blanket keeping him from freezing, the willpower and determination keeping him from giving up on skating, from giving up on his potential.
In Yuri's eyes, there was nothing imperfect about Viktor.
In Yuri's eyes, his perfection is his simple existence next to him.
In Viktor's eyes, there was something imperfect about Yuri. He was inconsistent with the success of his jumps, he was unstable with his emotions, he was haunted by the potential of younger skaters and the seasoned talent of the older ones.
In Viktor's eyes, Yuri was imperfect.
There's perfection in his actions off the ice. His kisses upon cheeks, upon corners of mouths, upon necks, stomachs, and lips were perfect. The way his hand slides into his own is like two puzzle pieces falling in line with another. His smiles, his laughs, his love for pork cutlet bowls… each contributions to the solid belief that Yuri was perfect, too. From constant swimming in the rivers of imperfection, his head will sometimes break through the surface to drink in the air of perfection instead of the waters of flaw.
In Viktor's eyes, Yuri's imperfection is not what the dictionary says imperfection is. It's imperfection that makes him realize Yuri's talent. It's imperfection that makes him realize why he came to Japan, to Yuri in the first place. It's imperfection that makes him smile, that makes his heart beat with pride, his soul hum and sing with happiness, that make his lips cold with the desire to kiss Yuri when he finally breaks past his imperfections to be perfect. It's imperfection that makes him proud of Yuri, that makes him euphoric, that makes him understand why he's here, and why he loves Yuri so much.
His imperfection is the knowledge that Yuri has places to go, and each day he gets closer to it, and it’s the pride that he will get there, soon, oh so soon.
Before Viktor became Yuri's coach, he didn't know what it felt like to have mutual happiness for someone. How it feels so much more rewarding watching someone you love blossom, succeed, and excel. How winning gold does not compare to the warmth and the weight of Yuri against him when he sleeps and when he wakes up. How performing a perfect Salchow time and time again is nothing like watching the love of his life do it and do it better.
In Viktor's eyes, Yuri was the bee to his honey, the ice skates to his ice rink, the cliché to the love tropes. Without Yuri, Viktor was missing a part of himself, he's come to realize. Like bread without yeast, without Yuri he could never rise out of bed in the morning. Like the ocean without the moon, he would never be able to wash away bitter memories and bring to shore newer, better, more sparkling ones.
In Viktor's eyes, there was something imperfect about Yuri.
In Viktor's eyes, his imperfection is his perfection; his simple existence next to him.