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Yuuri moves to St. Petersburg in the winter of 2017.
He’s cuddling close to Victor on the couch, along with Makkachin draped on both of their laps and blanket covering all of them. Around them, a small number of boxes surround them, all labeled in Yuuri’s writing. The couple had meant to store Yuuri’s belongings as soon as the hired helpers dropped the boxes at Victor’s apartment, but they deemed it was too cold to be doing anything and snuggled up on the couch instead.
Yuuri is absentmindedly stroking Makkachin’s soft, plush fur, with his head against Victor’s chest (he can hear the steady and comforting heartbeat, he notes fondly), and not paying attention to whatever program is playing on the television in front of them.
Victor is holding Yuuri’s hand underneath the blanket, and ever so occasionally, he brushes over Yuuri’s ring finger, where the golden band sits nicely and snug. He lingers there for a while before resuming to run his fingers softly over the whole expanse of Yuuri’s right hand. The younger male is starting to doze off. Between the warmth he’s cocooned in, the background noise of the bustling city outside and the television, and Victor’s ministrations, he can’t help but let his eyes slowly droop.
“Did you bring those posters of me from your room back in Japan?” Victor’s teasing tone brings Yuuri out of his dozing state. It takes a while for him to process the question, but when he does, he looks at his fiancé with a mock glare before his mouth forms a smile.
“Why would I when I have the real thing right next to me?” Yuuri asks back, leaning in to give Victor a peck on his cheek. When Victor lets out a lilting, warm laugh, Yuuri is filled with love for the man. He watches fondly as his eyes crinkle at the edges from happiness, and the way his mouth forms into the heart shape he adores so much.
“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor says affectionately, wrapping his arms around the other, careful to not let the blanket slip from both of them, “What good deeds must I have done to deserve you?”
“I don’t know, but I’m glad you did,” Yuuri says, blushing faintly underneath the dim lighting of Victor’s apartment. Victor chuckles, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Yuuri’s neck while he tells him a quiet ‘I love you.’
“I love you, too,” Yuuri replies, leaning into Victor’s embrace even more.
Later on that same night, Yuuri catches Victor looking at the golden ring on his right hand when he enters their bedroom. His breath hitches at the sight of his fiancé.
Victor is bare from the waist up (but Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if he was from the waist down, as well), and the lighting from the window behind the bed is doing wonders. He looks even more stunning in the city lights and the moonlight filtering in through the window panes. His skin is free of blemishes, which is only being emphasized by the lighting even more. His silver hair gives off an ethereal glow, casting a halo around his head. His long eyelashes cast a soft shadow on his cheeks, and they illuminate the bright contrast of Victor’s ocean green-blue eyes.
Victor is looking directly at the golden ring on his right hand, settled nicely on his ring finger. His look is pensive and contemplative when he raises his hand. The golden band glints brightly under the light coming through the window, and then, Victor’s lips form a smile.
A smile that holds so much adoration behind it, and genuine happiness.
Yuuri falls in love all over again. See, that’s the thing about Victor. He makes Yuuri feel constantly like his heart and veins are pumping full of excitement; every step he takes with him is thrilling, and leaves Yuuri out of breath.
Like he’s said before, Victor Nikiforov never fails to surprise him. Ever since the beginning, its been an unending chain of surprises, and it still is now. He’s fallen in love with Victor so many times now, and his heart flutters every moment he’s with him.
“Yuuri,” Victor greets, finally sensing his presence, “already coming to bed?”
Yuuri nods, still pretty emotional as he heads over to the bed, “its been a tiring day.”
“We did nothing all day, Yuuri,” Victor reminds him, and Yuuri shushes him lightly as he puts his glasses on the nightstand next to him.
“We moved boxes,” Yuuri pulls the blankets aside when he climbs onto the bed.
"Some boxes,” Victor laughs, getting closer to him. He lets Yuuri go underneath the covers for warmth, but joins him a few seconds later when he wraps his arms around Yuuri’s middle, and their limbs become intertwined.
“Still boxes regardless,” Yuuri rolls his eyes, “also, you’re so cold,” he kicks at Victor’s freezing feet with his own sock-clad ones, “I don’t know how you manage to always sleep without a shirt or pants.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to stay by my side to make sure I don’t die of frostbite overnight,” Victor says, cuddling closer to Yuuri.
Stay by my side, Yuuri echoes in his mind, knowing the deeper implications of those words. Victor is such a sap, honestly, but Yuuri loves him and his ways.
“Yeah, I will,” he tells Victor.
“Always?”
“If you’re always by my side, too.”
Victor nods, “Always.”
In one fluid movement, Victor kisses Yuuri. Soft lips are melding against each other, and they’re so gentle, yet firm at the same time. The kiss holds many love filled emotions; adoration, fondness, endearment, tenderness, and devotion. When they pull away, Yuuri has to will himself not to cry from the sudden splurge of feelings. He burrows himself into Victor’s embrace, and the other does so as well.
The click-clack of paws on hardwood surface is heard shortly after, then a sudden weight on the bed is felt. Makkachin settles by their feet, letting out a doggy sigh of contentment when he lies down in his favorite spot.
Yuuri may not be in Japan, but he’s home. The feeling overwhelms him especially now, and he’s filled with happiness.
Because home is wherever Victor is, and he knows that the other feels the same.
Ah, how did I get so lucky?