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Barcelona, the night before the finals. It came as no surprise to Victor that, while the other skaters immediately made their way back to the hotel after their (mostly) cordial dinner together, Yuuri asked to stay back and roam the streets once more. Being the good coach and boyfriend, of course he complied, but the increasing minutes of silence as they walked side by side, without apparent direction, began to torment him.
He discreetly observed Yuuri's eyes. They no longer looked like they were searching for an object from their vicinity. Instead, they appeared to be seeking internally for something... probably the right words to say, and probably Victor was the one to blame.
“This is an engagement ring. We'll get married once he wins a gold medal, right, Yuuri?”
He wasn't going to confront Yuuri outright whether that was what he wanted to talk about, since certain revelations earlier made it apparent that he had a penchant for prematurely assuming things. ‘There we go.’ Yuuri tensed up—the wait was over, and Victor straightened his back out of tense anticipation. Now, to wait until Yuuri finally revealed what he had to say…
Yuuri cleared his throat, as he finally settled on a way to break the ice. "... So... About... "
... Then again, Victor wasn't a patient man after all. "You don't want to be engaged to me, Yuuri?"
"What? No!" Yuuri was quick to deny, to Victor's relief, although he did not expect the rapid succession of words that followed. "It's not... It's not that I haven't thought about it. Have I thought about it? Of course I thought about it, plenty of times even! But we've only been together for several months and I didn't think we could do it in Japan, much less in Russia, right? So it is something I aspire to in the future but then I thought before even thinking about that I should be focusing on getting Victor the gold medal instead and—gasp—"
"Wow." As Yuuri gasped for proper air, he gently patted the younger man's back to steady his breathing. "Impressive. And I get it, Yuuri. Relax."
"It does seem very fitting," he continued, comforting Yuuri before he could interrupt. Victor slightly brought his arm to the front, and the ring upon his right hand signaled its presence with a shimmering light, tinted with multi-colored glow from the Christmas lights on display. "Round and golden, just like a gold medal."
"Right?" Yuuri practically jumped up with enthusiasm, eyes sparkling in a way that made the ring's shimmer falter in comparison. "I'm so glad you get it, Victor. I thought all that explanation about en was confusing."
As if on cue, the ring appeared to reflect the light again as the pair walked past a street lamp. Victor began to wonder whether he was imagining things from the euphoria. "No, I think I get it, Yuuri. It's a bond... or fated connection. Something to that...?"
His answer must have satisfied Yuuri enough for him to smile fondly. "... Mm, more or less..."
Everything felt unreal at first—getting dragged into a high-end jewelry shop, observing while Yuuri pondered between options on the display, having his ring finger measured (and somehow managing to mentally take note of Yuuri's finger size, just in case), until finally they departed the store to look for a more private, intimate location—to the point that he was rendered speechless throughout.
And just when he started to feel a descent to reality, Yuuri had to stop in front of a grandiose cathedral, where the sound of bells and carols accompanied the final act of the evening. As if in slow motion, Yuuri had bashfully pulled off the glove from his right hand (he hadn’t put it on since), and gently positioned the ring onto his finger. Victor returned the gesture while whispering words of reassurance, and it felt as if everything was right with the world.
The feeling that all the above had been unreal lingered. Victor looked at his ring finger again just to verify. "You never cease to surprise me, Yuuri, but somehow you've managed to outdo yourself today."
"That's something, coming from the skater who always surprised his audience," Yuuri retorted. He took a dramatic tone for a mock introduction, "Victor Nikiforov, five-time Grand Prix gold medal winner."
"A feat I'm hoping Yuuri Katsuki will match this year, of course."
"We’ll see tomorrow.” He laughed, without a trace of the anxiety he showed the previous night. Victor was glad. "... Winning gold isn't the only reason for these though. As I said, I wanted to thank you for all you've done, Victor, and I thought having the same rings..." Yuuri paused momentarily, and mustered enough courage to grab hold of Victor’s hand, brushing his fingers against the metal surface of Victor’s ring. "... could display our bond, too."
"Right… For the competition?" Victor teased.
Yuuri rolled his eyes. "For the competition... and thereafter."
As if to emphasize the point, Yuuri gave Victor’s hand a tight squeeze. That soft voice of his grew even mellower, and yet to Victor, only his words were audible in this moment. Background noise from passers-by on the street faded from hearing, overwhelmed by the words that followed.
"In case that wasn't clear... I do want to be engaged to you, Victor. That is, if you don't mind."
He was being more upfront than usual, but Victor wouldn't say he didn't like it. "Mind? I love what you've done, Yuuri." He tightened his grip around Yuuri's fingers, noticing the younger man's reddened cheeks at the word 'love'. Then again, without having to look closer at his reflection on the glass pane they passed, he already knew had the same look as Yuuri's about him.
He let out a gentle laughter. "I was just thinking, perhaps it was me who was swept by the moment and got ahead of myself again..."
Yuuri was once again quick to answer. "You haven't! I..." Yuuri suddenly released his hold from Victor's hand. "... Victor, what do you mean by again?"
Victor rubbed his exposed right hand, and internally cursed at himself for carelessly letting a word slip. Although he did tease Yuuri about having videos from last year's banquet, he hadn't actually shown them properly on purpose. Not that he begrudged knowing that Yuuri did not have a single memory of their encounter last year (... maaybe just a little)—it was mainly that he wasn't sure how his skater would take it the day before the finals. He wasn't planning to risk it.
"... It's nothing."
Just as he tried (miserably) to brush it off, a single glance was enough to make him realize that this Yuuri, the one who became his lover, would not let it pass. He knew that determined look all too well, and there was no escaping the question ahead. "... Is this about me not remembering talking to you during the banquet?"
And right on point, although 'talking' was a severe understatement. "It might be in one way or another, but... I'm really hurt, you know~" Victor bemoaned with the most cheerful tone he could muster. "Yuuri doesn't remember anything from last year's banquet after all, so I don't really feel like explaining it."
Would Yuuri leave it at that? As expected, he didn't immediately respond. Victor also expected that characteristic flustered look of panic, the one when Yuuri got embarrassed enough not to discuss something further. Instead, he had a thoughtful expression, and Victor was part-worried, part-enamored that Yuuri seemed to have detected the tinge of disappointment behind his own playful tone.
He tried to retain the carefree smile on his face, but after coaching and living with Yuuri for so long, Victor had known that Yuuri always had a good read on him at times like these. Yuuri's answer was all seriousness. "It's alright if you don't want to talk about it, but I'm really sorry, Victor. Usually I try to lay off the alcohol, but I thought I completely blew my chance that year. I remember I was downing them like water, so I couldn't possibly remember what happened in detail... If there was anything bad you don't have to hold back just because of the finals tomorrow..."
Victor knew Yuuri wasn't a considerate person by design, even when his innocent, unassuming look had him fooled at first, so this came as a surprise. He wasn't even angry in the first place, but by this point it would be impossible for him to bear any kind of ill sentiments if he had any, and he was beginning to feel responsible for causing the tense atmosphere.
"The finals, huh..."
Before Yuuri's anxiety could seep in, Victor thought it wise to reroute the conversation. “… That time, would that have to do with how you didn't want to take a photo with me after the finals?"
He observed Yuuri's change in expression—now that was the flustered look Victor had grown to expect, and he noted fondly that Yuuri must have remembered this part. Partly obscured by his glasses' frame, his cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink. "I... I can't believe you still remember such a thing."
"How can I not?" he teased, "It's not every day that someone rejects taking a picture with me—Victor Nikiforov, the five-time Grand Prix winner."
The cheeky comment was enough to make Yuuri laugh and nudge him playfully with his elbow. A wistful smile remained, but he no longer appeared on edge and Victor was relieved at that. He discreetly used the moment of calm to link his arm with Yuuri's—to his relief, with positive reception. Yuuri tugged lightly, and they resumed their trek to the hotel.
"I felt that I didn't deserve it," Yuuri confessed, in a voice that would've been inaudible to anyone who didn't pay their attention only towards him, "I didn't put up a good enough performance, and just when I was finally able to skate on the same ice as my idol..."
"Your idol?"
Another nudge. "Are you really going to make me say the name?"
Victor pretended to pout, but didn't press the matter further. He couldn't help break out a smile within seconds either. "Not to worry, Yuuri. I've personally heard from this idol of yours that you've done nothing that would make him love you less."
"You sap."
"You love me for that."
Yuuri laughed, and the urge to admit that what Yuuri did that night was what enraptured him in the first place grew overpowering, and yet he fully realized that it would be pushing at the boundary of Yuuri's capacity to believe. But he wanted to reveal it so badly—the fact that Yuuri had inadvertently set off a chain of events that somehow led the two of them to this point. To a winter night in Barcelona, where they have been bonded by matching engagement rings on their fingers.
And he was grateful for it, even when Yuuri did not remember a single bit. But it was an admission for a latter opportunity.
It had put some things in perspective at least, especially in regard to his first weeks in Hasetsu. Arriving with the pre-established knowledge that Yuuri Katsuki was such an admirer of his, to the extent that he was invited to visit his family's hot springs and challenged to become his coach, Victor was taken aback by the tepid, almost avoidant, response he received. He explained it away as initial awkwardness and perhaps shame or newfound dislike, but knowing better now...
"I feel relieved, in a way. At the beginning, I kept wondering what it is that I did wrong to Yuuri. When we finally talked it out, I'm glad you weren't mad at me after all. And I'm glad you opened up to me."
"It feels like a lifetime ago by now... "
Yuuri leaned his weight slightly on Victor’s shoulder, and it gave him a burst of impulsiveness. Would it be alright to at least tell him this? Victor wanted to believe so. "I kept wondering, though… What happened to the guy who so enthusiastically proposed to me to be his coach?"
This time, the shock was enough to stop Yuuri in his tracks and cause him to drop the shopping bags in right hand. "Ehh?! I actually did that in the banquet?!"
"Well..."
"Victor!!"
"It... May have been the reason for your dance-off...?"
"Seriously?! Victoooor..."
As Yuuri shook his collar pleading for him to elaborate, he repeatedly shook his head in gleeful refusal. Yuuri finally gave up, and as much as Victor tried to stifle his laughter with his hand, he could not help but laugh uncontrollably—more towards himself for foolishly worrying that the topic would lead to intense awkwardness and discomfort with Yuuri, who was entirely bright and charming, as he laughed with the same energy.
Once they both calmed down, the Japanese skater immediately moved to his plea in defense of his lapse in memory. "... I… may have fantasized it so often in my dreams, I think the line between wishful thinking and actual memories got blurred... I still can't believe it really happened... Ah, the bags..."
"It led to the best possible outcome, though." As Yuuri bent down to pick up the bags from the pavement, Victor followed suit, nabbing one before Yuuri got to it.
Yuuri giggled as he picked up the remaining bags. "... I-I said I can't believe it really happened, not that I wasn't super happy with the results."
Victor lightly hit Yuuri's crouched figure with the bag in his hand. "You sap."
Yuuri returned the gesture. "You love me for it."
It was late by the time they finally made it back to the hotel, and eventually their beds. Yuuri bemused why Victor had insisted on pushing the twin beds closer when it served no purpose whatsoever, as he practically took over Yuuri's side of the combined beds—not that he didn't like being snuggled this way.
As if reading his mind, Victor engulfed Yuuri tighter in his embrace. "I need to make sure you get enough sleep, Yuuri... You need all the energy you have for the new routine tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah..."
It lasted five minutes. Yuuri nudged, and upon confirmation that his partner was still only half-asleep, spoke in urgent whisper, "Victoor... It's too late to see the videos tonight, but maybe you can describe how I asked you to coach me? I... don't think I'm that articulate when I'm drunk, so how did I...?"
Victor grunted. Despite the seeming grumpiness at the disruption, he responded by grabbed Yuuri's right wrist, sleepily kissing the ring on his fiancé’s hand. "You did it in the most perfect way, love. Now sleep."
"Hmm..."
Another five minutes managed to pass. "But did I really...?"
"I'll give you a clue," he settled sleepily, "You really showed me all the eros you had in you that night, so! Maybe if you do the same with the audience tomorrow, perhaps I will remember, hm?"
"..."
"Oyasumi, Yuuri..."
"Oyasumi..."
'Sorry, Victor.' Seducing the audience would have to wait—all Yuuri could focus on was landing the quadruple flip the next day. He nuzzled closer to Victor's side, and closed his eyes to the gentle breathing sound, feeling them calm his nerves and carry him to slumber.