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“Marry me.”
It had been a cold day in St. Petersburg, frost clinging to the windows, hazing it over in a thin sheet of ice. Victor’s—their—apartment was warmly heated, but it still wasn’t enough. So they delegated to bundling up in bed, sheets strewn every visible surface of the mattress. It was a lazy day of lounging around, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s presence on their off day. It was so wonderful, so warm and safe, and Yuuri had wished it to just pause time, the world, just so this could be forever. They were facing each other, limbs tangled and breathes exchanged. Victor was thinking loudly, face inexplicably soft but serious at the same time.
Yuuri laughed, low and quiet.
“You said after I win the gold medal, right?” Yuuri says, teasingly.
Victor held Yuuri tighter, if that was possible. Chests flush and close enough to count eyelashes. There was a long moment of silence. Just them, in their little world. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Victor was still in deep thought, perhaps contemplating what to say. Yuuri gave Victor the time he sought to organize his thoughts, Yuuri wanted to meet Victor half way, just like Victor always did. His thumb found Victor’s hipbone and rubbed little circles there, and he looked on into Victor’s features, patiently. Victor moved away a little, just enough to gain proper eye contact with Yuuri, and brought his fingers to the nape of Yuuri’s neck. It trailed upwards, to under his ear, the bolt of his jaw, then to the warmth of his cheek. Yuuri’s breath caught, just for a moment. Victor’s eyes were so earnest, open and himself. Yuuri’s heart soared in his throat. Victor was here, laid bare, only for him.
“I’m scared,” Victor finally says, in a low timbre. Raw and raspy. Yuuri frowns a little bit.
“Of what?” Yuuri matches the lowness of Victor’s voice, just above a whisper. Victor closes his beautiful, heart-manipulating eyes, then opens them again. Twisting Yuuri’s heart more.
“I’m scared that if something happens to you, god forbid, and you end up in a hospital, they won’t let me see you. Because I’m not family, or your husband. I couldn’t bare not being able to see you. I know this isn’t a good enough reason to get married on alone. It should be a mutual agreement, because we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together. It’s what I want, that’s I why I want to marry you. Not because of this stupid fear I have. But I can’t help it at the same time.” Victor admits, easily laying himself bare for the world to see in Yuuri’s hands.
Yuuri could do whatever he wanted with him, have his way with him, and still, at the end, Victor would be chasing Yuuri, loving him no matter what he’d done to Victor. He wasn’t the universe. He was the sun, the very center of his own solar system, shining brightly and blindingly. Victor was so dependent on Yuuri. So, so very, unabashedly dependent on Yuuri. Yuuri laughs again, but quieter, and just above a titter. It is gentle and soft and endearing. Yuuri’s fingers curl at Victor’s hipbone.
“You’d fight your way to see me, even if it meant abusing your star power or actually fighting them.”
This time, Victor laughs too, jutting his forehead against Yuuri’s. “You’re right, I would. I would fight until my last dying breath.” Victor says rather dramatically, except he was being 100% genuine.
Yuuri shifts slightly, moving his hips and legs, wiggling his arm under Victor out, and curling it around Victor’s neck instead. Feeling the wisps of baby hair there. He moves in closer, closing the very tiny distance between their lips, and kisses him. Sweetly, with all the love in his heart. Victor responds, on instinct, his heart leaping like it’s the first time they’ve kissed when they’ve probably already kissed at least 20 times in the last couple of hours. On the neck, fingers, face, chest, collarbones. Loving each other, without strings of passion attached. Victor’s heart swelled in his chest, he thinks it might burst, eating him whole, leaving him with nothing but white, white light and Yuuri’s love. Victor thinks, for a fleeting moment, that may be all he needed. Yuuri, and subsequently the light and love that just radiated naturally off him. And the ice.
God, watching Yuuri on ice was like magic, fire in his veins, inspiration. It felt like new every time. The way his body moved, how it moved so fluidly and the control he demanded when he was on the ice. Especially his. It’s almost pathetic how Victor could never look away while Yuuri was skating. Victor was so weak for Yuuri. In the knees, in the chest, down to the very bone. Yuuri skated with an emotion ungraspable. He was so able to portray everything, laying himself naked on ice, baring his soul and thoughts to the world. His expressions, his movements, his pure love of skating. Yuuri had something Victor didn’t, for all his worldly skating skills. They both loved the ice, danced and thrived on it. They were both so beautiful on ice, but Victor couldn’t lay himself bare in front of thousands and thousands of people, he couldn’t leave that part of himself exposed to the world. He played a character, always believable, always perfection. Yuuri...was himself, always, he never skated to something he didn’t have or wasn’t already. Yuuri was believable, and he was perfection in the sense that it felt instinctively human and real. Something that Victor got addicted to and drunk on.
He thought of their pair skate.
How he lost himself in Yuuri, allowed himself to be consumed by Yuuri and his emotions for him. Every time they skated he swore he felt something genuine and real, something that wasn’t make-believe. Because every touch felt intimate, not stone-cold perfection. He wonders how Yuuri was able to bring that out in him. How just being with him gave Victor so many hopes and dreams, and warmth. He was finally able to lay himself bare on the ice, allowing every single emotion he felt for Yuuri to explode out of him in vibrant colors with every glide and jump. Victor wanted to cry, his throat choked up. Was it normal how much he loved Yuuri? How much Yuuri’s love consumed him whole. How desperately needy he was for him.
Did it matter?
“I won’t end up in a hospital.” Yuuri says, faintly, with a smile, trying to assuage Victor’s fears. It almost worked. Victor raised his brow, giving Yuuri a look. Being a figure skater meant injuries, especially with older skaters.
“I’ll try not to. No guarantees. Gotta work hard if I’m going to beat Victor Nikiforov this season.” Yuuri adds offhandedly, with a very serious expression. “You know what they say about Victor Nikiforov,”
“And what do they say about Victor Nikiforov?” Victor chuckles lowly, a wisp of air out of his lungs.
“Oh you know, living figure skater legend, 5 time consecutive gold medalist, skating prodigy.” Yuuri pauses, then adds. “Hot. Really hot. One of the most eligible bachelors in the world.”
Victor laughs, he thinks Yuuri could give him all the laughs in the world. This beautiful man, who had to do or be nothing but himself, had given so much to him.
“Last I heard, he was engaged.”
Yuuri nods, “How lucky that person is. To have and hold Victor Nikiforov. I’ve looked up to him as long as I can remember, he’s a god on ice. I may… have dreamt once or twice about marrying him… too bad I can’t now.”
“What? What do you mean, you are marrying me,” Victor says, rather adamantly, breaking out of character. Yuuri gives him a pointed look. Victor huffs a laugh. How many was that now? He’s lost count.
“Victor Nikiforov must feel very fortunate towards that person, because that person’s given him everything. Looked past every mask and fake smiles. I’m sure Victor Nikiforov is the lucky one there.” Victor hums, bringing Yuuri’s fingers that were curled around his neck to his lips. Closing his eyes and kissing them, one by one. Yuuri looks on, entranced.
“I love you,” he blurts out, softly. “So, so much. Impossibly much. Too much for my heart to contain.” Yuuri feels tears brimming at the corner of his eyes. Victor does too, how had Yuuri taken the words right from his lips? He wanted to say that. Victor moved in, tapping their foreheads against each other, he felt Yuuri’s hot breath fanning across the tip of his nose and lips.
“How have you taken the words right out of my mouth, solnyshko?” Yuuri laughs shakily, and ducks his head into the nape of Victor’s neck. Victor felt Yuuri’s tears drip onto his shoulder blade, trickling from the corners of his eyes. He adjusts so he can hold Yuuri tight against his body, trapping him in his arms. He could feel his own tears slide from his eyes too. Ah. Was this the extent of their love? Consumed them to the point of tears, eaten their hearts alive and thrown it into a blinding void. Victor’s heart clutched in his chest. What was he going to do if Yuuri died before him? He swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to imagine a world without Yuuri. Without a sun.