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Viktor has faith in Yuuri. Had since the very beginning. It’s Yuuri who doesn’t believe in himself, not even nearly a year of utter dedication and hard work. Not even after seeing how far he has come.
Maybe that’s why he is leaving Viktor.
Not physically, of course not. At least not yet. They still have the Free Skate program left and officially Viktor is still Yuuri’s coach. But emotionally, Yuuri is light years away, already defeated in his own eyes, just a step shy of giving up. And Viktor is left sitting on the edge of his… their bed, not knowing what to say, what to do to make Yuuri understand that their time together is not coming to an end.
That it will never come to an end if Viktor has anything to say about it.
And why shouldn’t he? A relationship is built by and depends on two people. He has all the right in the world to fight for the man who had stolen his heart a year ago, fallen into a drunken haze that loosened his inhibitions just enough to let the real Yuuri shine through. The Yuuri who isn’t afraid to ask for what he wants. To command everyone’s attention. To enslave Viktor’s soul then have the gall not to remember it. It should make Viktor feel enraged, make him want to fight against the invisible yet unbreakable chains wound around his heart, tying him to Yuuri.
Because Yuuri is his, just like he is Yuuri’s.
He still has the marks, no matter how faint, to prove it. And he refuses to give it up. He won’t give it up, because the feelings clouding his mind and squeezing his lungs tight are the most precious things he has ever received… right behind the gold band around his ring finger. And those feelings are worth fighting for.
He doesn’t even think about putting his clothes on, his hands and legs work on their own, draping him in warm enough clothes to go out. To go after Yuuri and put an end to this foolishness once and for all.
His steps are sure even as his hands shake so bad that he has to hide them in his coat pockets, Maccachin’s leash wrapped tight around his right wrist, the leather biting into his skin. He already knows where to find Yuuri, eight months together have taught him more about his… partner than he probably knows.
Partner.
The thought sends a shiver down his spine, his heart racing double speed. He shouldn’t be surprised by the realization, after all they are as close to being married as they can get at the moment no matter what Yuuri likes to think about the meaning behind their rings. This time there will be no room for misunderstanding, intentional or not. If he has to he will spell it out fo Yuuri in any language he has to so Yuuri understands what he means to Viktor.
“After the Final let’s end this.”
As if.
If Yuuri doesn’t want to train under Viktor? Fine. He can’t make him continue skating when it already looks like Yuuri is at his limit. But to end what they have between them in any other way? No way. They love each other. They both vowed, curling their tongues around sounds that still taste foreign yet feel like home. They claimed each other for better or worse. So if Yuuri thinks Viktor will go back on a promise like that, or let Yuuri go back on his own oath, then he is in for a nasty wake up call.
Because Viktor? Is not a loser. And definitely not a quitter.
Maccachin barks by his side as if agreeing with his thoughts, and Viktor looks down at his old companion with a faint smile. “We’re not giving up on our Yuuri, are we, Maccachin?” he says, quiet but determined.
His answer is a cheerful woof, the only confirmation he needs.
Entering the training arena, reserved for the Grand Prix finalists, brings back old memories. He has no doubt he will find Yuuri here, riddled with anxiety and the stubbornness of an angry bull. Their non-argument was the perfect excuse to slip away, to sneak some more practice into, as if Victor didn’t know how keyed up his partner was. Still is.
There is just no other possible reason for the stupid and unnecessary nobleness Yuuri tried to push onto him back in their room. All because of some lurid fantasy that Viktor has been dissatisfied with his role as Yuuri’s coach and staying by his side. That he’s been yearning to go back on the ice and show the world how much he has changed. As if he still has anything to show the world on his own.
A sardonic little smile tugs at Viktor’s mouth at the thought. He has no illusions about his return no matter how nostalgic he gets. He knows that his time is over and he is fine with that. Maybe if he didn’t have Yuuri, things would be different. Maybe he would still be out there, struggling to keep his perfect form, his record, his dignity. Technically he’s still there. Mentally, not so much.
He didn’t realize until recently how much he actually needed to get away from the constant pressure of expectations, how burnt out he really was. This one year off the ice has taught him many important lessons, one of them was how to love. And another was how to live. This one year away from active competition has made him realize that it was never the attention of the crowd he craved but the appreciation and acceptance of someone who can see him for who he is. For the selfish, forgetful asshole he knows he can be and often is.
The idea of giving that up is simply unacceptable.
He sees Yuuri immediately, his face already dotted with heavy drops of sweat as he goes through the motions, his body twisting and gliding away from the public’s prying eyes. He’s magnificent.
A magnificent idiot.
“Yuuri,” Viktor calls, sweet and cheerful, entirely belying his painfully clenched fists hidden in his pockets. He leans down to unclasp Maccachin's leash and let her roam free, his gaze glued to Yuuri's form.
Yuuri stumbles, his spine going rigid. He manages to catch himself on the edge of the rink wall, his head bowed to hide his expression. Yet his body speaks for him. The way his knuckles whiten, his shoulders tremble ever so slightly, his stance remains wide as if preparing for a fight tell Viktor to get ready. For what he isn’t sure. Not yet. Never with Yuuri, who keeps catching him blindsided every time Viktor believes he knows what he is about to face.
So he doesn’t try to make a guess. Instead he keeps his steps even and his hold on Maccachin strong. He hopes his expression isn’t working against him and that his smile is as real as it can get in a situation like this. He stays strong and appropriately distant despite wanting nothing more but to tackle Yuuri and kiss him until it gets through his diamond hard head that Viktor is not going anywhere.
“Darling,” he calls again, this time quietly and from up close. Yuuri’s sigh should be discouraging but Viktor has never been one for backing down at the first obstacle. “Our bed is cold without you.”
“Viktor…” Yuuri trails off, his eyes bloodshot and hooded with exhaustion.
“As your coach, I should be scolding you,” Viktor continues when Yuuri doesn’ say anything else. It makes Yuuri flinch, his gaze dropping again and setting Viktor’s teeth on edge. He doesn’t want to see his love this defeated ever again. “As your fiance,” Yuuri looks up with with astonishment filling his gaze and making Viktor pause.
“M-my… fiance?” Yuuri stutters, brows creasing as if those words are news to him. Which takes Viktor right back to their night out when they exchanged rings and Viktor told Phichit that they were engaged. And also confirms that Yuuri didn’t believe him, not even when they both kissed their own rings for good luck.
It shouldn’t feel as devastating as it does. To have actual proof of their failure at communication despite the deep connection they have. Despite the unvoiced claims and proposals they both uttered more than once. But maybe that’s the problem. Everything besides their professional hangups going unsaid. It doesn’t matter how loaded their words have been since the very beginning of their partnership, not when neither of them ever said out loud what they really want.
Well, things are about to change.
“Yes,” Viktor says, firm and stubborn. “Because this,” he holds his hand adorned with gold up just as his free one lifts Yuuri’s hand in the air, “and this are a pair. And they might symbolize good luck to you, but for me they are the oath of our future union. Of staying, and never leaving your side ever again. Unless that’s what you really want. Because, if I hadn’t been clear before, I want to marry you one day. Want to be able to tell the world that yes, this wonderful man by my side is my husband.”
Yuuri’s face is turning beet red, his eyes resembling saucers as he watches Viktor lace their fingers together and then pulls Yuuri’s hand to his lips, his ringed knuckle just a hair breadth away from a kiss. He holds the pose, not moving, and watches for Yuuri’s reaction, waits for permission without allowing his gaze to falter from Yuuri’s struck expression once.
“Do… do you really want to… to marry me?” Yuuri asks, slow and halting. “Me?”
There is a million things to say to that. Answers that vary from sappy confessions to sarcastic snipes, but they wouldn’t fit this moment. Nothing long-winded or cheeky would do this moment of truth justice. Because when it comes down to it, Yuuri has always responded best to blunt honesty. Which leaves only one thing to say, really.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Yuuri’s lower lip trembles and Viktor gets to see from up close as his eyes darken with unshed tears, only to shock him yet again by pulling his hand away from Viktor’s lips and brushing his own against the ring on Viktor’s finger. “Yes.”
A million times yes.
It’s not said out loud, probably for the best, even though Viktor wants nothing more than to do just that. To yell, scream and cheer, because the man he loves with all his heart just accepted his proposal. They are going to get married, for real. It’s not just a dream, an unsaid wish both of them keep yearning for any longer. Of course, there are still things to settle between them, but for now they get to be deliriously happy and content. They have a night just to themselves.
Leaning in for a kiss is the most natural thing on Earth for him, and his heart soars to new heights when Yuuri leans forward, his neck craning, to meet him half-way. Proving that they are partners in every aspect of their life. Yuuri’s lips are cold and chapped, reminding Viktor of the first time he applied soft, glossy balm on them before a competition. The pressure is heavenly and everything he could hope for. Because Yuuri is not only his, but also gave him the two most important ‘L’s possible.
Life and love.
It’s hard not to get carried away because in a matter of hours Yuuri will need all his energy and concentration to be focused on skating. But here and now, with only the rink wall separating them, Viktor needs all his self-control not to jump his fiance. He wants to decorate Yuuri’s skin with new marks in plain sight, so tomorrow everyone will know what happened between them. He wants to claim Yuuri again and again until his scent is entwined with Yuuri’s, until it’s impossible to tell where one of them starts and the other ends.
Until his place in Yuuri’s heart is as natural as the tan line on their ring fingers will be one day.