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“Viktor…” Yuuri whispers, barely louder than a breath, and Viktor hums in response, blinking his eyes open. He’d had the feeling they weren’t done discussing yet, but Yuuri sometimes needed time to organize his thoughts, which meant more often than not, they had talks like these in the dark, taking comfort in each others warmth under the sheets.
After a long, emotionally charged day at the GPF free skate, both had decided against celebrating until after the Gala exhibition and retired to their room early. Viktor could tell Yuuri had been thinking about what had been said at the final, and had given him space to work through whatever he needed to, keeping his silence and giving Yuuri a warm smile whenever his eyes flitted over, relishing in the blush he brought to Yuuri’s cheeks and the soft smile he’d get in return as he poked around social media while readying for bed.
Now it was dark in their room, only the city light dripping in, pooling on the floor next to the window, and Viktor rolls over to face Yuuri when he doesn’t say anything past Viktor’s name.
“Yuuri?” He whispers just as quiet, searching his fiancée’s gaze. Yuuri looks troubled, worrying his lip between his teeth as his gaze falls away, focusing on the sheet corner he’s picking at in his hands. Viktor dips his head in a bit closer. “What? What is it?” Yuuri sighs, turning his eyes back to Viktor.
“How is this going to work?” Viktor feels dread pool in his stomach, solidify like a stone; he doesn’t like the way Yuuri is speaking, it sounds too much like giving up. Yuuri’s gaze moves back to the sheet as he continues. “If you want to continue skating, then you’ll have to move back to Russia, and soon if you want to prepare for nationals.” Yuuri’s grip on the sheet tightens, and he blinks a bit. “And I’m okay with that, really, but…” He trails off, releasing the fabric and giving the ring on his finger a light touch as he swallows, and shuts his eyes. “How are we going to work?” He finishes quietly.
Yuuri desperately doesn’t want to try and make long distance work. He would, of course; he’d do anything to make Viktor happy, but the thought of only getting to see Viktor through video calls, only getting to hear his voice tinny through a speaker, unable to trade touches and warmth, was agonizing. He and Viktor were barely apart a couple of days during the Rostelecom Cup and Yuuri had missed him so much, had wanted so badly to have Viktor tangible by his side, with his arm wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulder, going on about one thing or another while Yuuri smiled and nestled in his side; he didn’t want to go months, or even weeks feeling desperate like that again, feeling so lonely sleeping by himself without even Makkachin for comfort.
And it’s not just that, he could deal with himself being lonely, being desperate, even if he felt like he was breaking all the while, he could do it just fine. He was his own person, and he could deal with them being separated even if he didn’t want to, even if it hurt. But what he didn’t want to lose was the level of communication he and Viktor had established throughout the months they’d been together, the things that couldn’t be communicated in words alone. The sideways looks and raised eyebrows, the soft soothing touches and brushes of skin, being able to read each other by the tension in their shoulders and the way they skated, in the finger tapping and the half-glances. Everything that had no hope of being communicated over text or in a skype call; he didn’t want to lose it. That level of intimacy that belonged solely to him and Viktor would be gone, and he didn’t want to forget how to read the set of Viktor’s shoulders to see if he’s serious or not, to be able to tell if a smile is genuine or too sharp not to be.
The idea of coming back to each other one day, and not remembering what the little quirks of movement and expression were supposed to tell him terrified Yuuri.
Yuuri inhales a stabilizing breath, eyes fluttering open when Viktor’s hands come up to brush his cheeks gently, cupping his face.
“How do you want us to work, Yuuri?” Viktor questions softly, and Yuuri’s throat tightens. He swallows again, reaching up to pull Viktor’s hands into his own, clasping their fingers together in a tight grip.
“I want us to stay side by side.” Yuuri says honestly, giving a self-depreciative smile. “I’m selfish like that, I don’t want us to be separated.” His eyes harden, and the smile slips, a determined look taking its place. “But I don’t want to keep you from what you want to do; if you go to Russia, I’ll support you as best I can.” Viktor brings Yuuri’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the gold band there. Yuuri releases Viktor’s fingers to brush his silver fringe away from his eyes. “How do you want us to work, Viktor? What do you want to do? You’ve always asked me that, but what you want matters too.” Yuuri murmurs, and Viktor smiles brightly at him.
“I want to skate with Yuuri.” He says simply, and Yuuri huffs, but a smile turns the corners of his mouth. Viktor’s face softens. “I want to skate with you, to compete with you. But more than anything, I want to stay by your side.” Viktor frees his hands, reaching to pull Yuuri’s head down slightly and press a light kiss to his crown. “I’d even give up skating for that, if I had to.” Yuuri looks at him, shock coloring his features.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that, skating is a part of you!” Yuuri says quickly, and Viktor laughs, this time pressing a kiss to his cheek as he tangles their fingers back together.
“I know you wouldn’t.” Viktor gives him that soft smile, the one that makes Yuuri’s heart melt and happiness bubble in his diaphragm, filling him with warmth, and Yuuri can’t help but smile back. It falls away after a moment as Viktor takes a breath, his grip tightening on Yuuri’s hands like he’s looking for strength. Yuuri immediately becomes concerned, and squeezes Viktor’s hands in return. “Yuuri,” Viktor starts, a serious look in his eyes, and Yuuri meets his intense gaze with one of equal strength, “I am an incredibly selfish man for what I am about to ask of you, but I don’t want to skate if it’s not with you.” Another pause, and another breath in, Viktor closing his eyes for a moment, before he opens them, determined.
“Will you come with me to Russia?” Yuuri’s eyes widen in surprise, and Viktor continues. “That way, I’ll still be able to stay with you and help you while training for Nationals. And I promise, we can visit Hasetsu whenever you want, because I would hate to keep you away from your family and friends for long, but—” Viktor breaks off, swallowing. “I don’t think I could go without you. Please, will you come with me to Russia?” Yuuri searches Viktor’s face, taking in the vulnerability there, before breaking into a large smile, throwing his arms around Viktor with a watery laugh.
“Of course I’ll go with you, you idiot!” Yuuri cries as he presses a chaste kiss to Viktor’s mouth, who flushes but breaks into an equally bright smile, returning the hug with a breathless laugh, both of them wiping tears from the corners of their eyes. The laughter fades, and Viktor presses fingers to Yuuri’s chin lightly, guiding him slowly into a gentle, languid kiss, shivering when Yuuri’s breath ghosts across his skin. Yuuri’s hand travels to the nape of Viktor’s neck, fingers tracing his jaw as they go before settling in the soft silver hair there. Viktor cups his face in earnest, his other hand coming up, fingertips lightly touching Yuuri’s jaw as he tilts his head a bit, letting the warmth and a pleasant tingle fill the both of them before pulling back, Yuuri following him for a beat before his eyes flutter open. Viktor gives him a soft look, mirrored on Yuuri’s face, and smiles.
“I love you, Yuuri.” Yuuri smiles, cheeks flushed light pink, and reaches up to clasp their hands together, relishing the press of Viktor’s ring against his skin, bringing both their hands up to press a light kiss against the metal.
“I love you too, Viktor.”