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Viktor gulped.
Dear God. Yuuri was wearing the tie again. And not just any tie.
The Tie.
(And yes, it deserved the capital letters.)
The powdery blue monstrosity was not only unfashionable (and where did Yuuri even manage to acquire such a tie?), it also reminded Viktor, with shocking clarity, of a sweaty, half naked, pole dancing Yuuri. It reminded him of a night of joy, a night of passion. The night where he was finally, and without warning, lifted from the fog that had crept up on him in his last few years of skating.
Understandably, it elicited quite the unfavorable reaction in him.
Well, not exactly unfavorable given the right situation, but in most cases it was a bit obscene to be desperately fighting down your arousal when out in public with said tie and said fiancé.
(Especially when you and the entire Russian skating team were at a press conference.)
Viktor, Mila, Georgi, Yurio, and Yakov sat behind a long table, microphones and name placards in front of each of them. The press stood as close as security would allow, cameras primed and ready, each desperate to question the Russian team about the upcoming season and their plans for the Grand Prix series. Yuuri, meanwhile, stood out in the audience with the other Russian skaters who weren’t requested to be interviewed. He watched the proceedings unfold with a polite interest, occasionally glancing at Viktor and giving him a knowing look, telling him without words to persevere with the conference as best as he could.
While each look did much to keep Viktor’s mind off the conference, it also provided a fresh visual reminder of the tie and all the memories associated with it.
Yuuri had a light flush on his cheeks as he whispered softly with another younger skater. Something amusing must have been exchanged because he then started laughing quietly, muffling his laughter behind his hand.
Viktor fidgeted, loosening his own tie and shifting restlessly in his seat. Yuuri glanced up now and smiled softly at Viktor again.
Well shit.
He clenched the fabric of his trousers as his gaze lingered on Yuuri. His smooth, supple neck, those creamy, flushed cheeks, his deep, smoldering eyes…
Yurio sat to his right, throwing him a side-long glare as he continued to fidget.
“Viktor,” Yurio whispered heatedly.
“Hmmm?”
“Viktor, you idiot. He just asked you a question.”
Viktor jumped and snapped his eyes back to the crowd. He felt like he’d violently been ripped out of a vortex just now. That was the hold that Yuuri had on him. Scanning the crowd, Viktor noted a few incredulous expressions from the reporters. He could practically hear Yakov glaring lasers through the side of his head.
He cleared his throat, leaning forward into the microphone. “I’m sorry could you repeat that?”
Viktor fought down a blush as the reporter repeated the question, trying his best to survive the rest of the interview with the little remaining dignity he had. Yuuri Katsuki and that goddamn tie would be the death of him.
For the sake of his career and his sanity, he had to devise a plan to dispose of it as soon as possible.
Viktor breathed a sigh of relief as the cold air nipped at his skin. The press conference had finally concluded, ending his public display of humiliation. The cool air provided a nice tonic to his frustration.
Yuuri hummed an aimless tune as they walked hand-in-hand down the road, trailing behind Yakov and the other skaters. He glanced Viktor’s way, a small smile on his face.
“Is everything ok, Viktor?” he asked, stroking his thumb over Viktor’s hand. “You seemed a bit distracted at the press conference today.”
Viktor smiled at Yuuri stiffly, letting his gaze trail slowly from his face to the accursed tie. It flapped in the breeze, seemingly mocking Viktor in his discomfort. He met Yuuri’s eyes again.
“Ah, don’t mind me Yuuri,” he murmured, “It’s just strange to be coming back to the fold after a year off.”
Viktor squirmed internally as Yuuri’s eyes softened, squeezing his hand in sympathy. While what he said was true, it wasn’t exactly the whole reason for his reaction.
A sudden guffaw littered the air as Yurio glanced behind his shoulder.
“Yeah, Viktor. That’s all it is. Keep telling yourself that!”
Viktor’s held tilted as he felt an artificial smile form unwillingly across his face. He regarded Yurio through narrowed eyes. So he wanted to play that game.
(Not a great choice on Yurio’s part. After all, Viktor was the master.)
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Yura,” he insisted sweetly, “But if you want to talk about being in denial, why don’t you let me ring up dear Otabek. I’m sure he’d love to know what you really think about him!”
Yurio stumbled a bit, letting out a choked hack as he righted himself. He turned around now, walking backwards as he furiously stuttered at Viktor.
“We’re – It- It’s not like that!”
Yurio’s screech echoed down the street. Yakov sighed, picking up his pace as he tried to put distance between himself and the rowdy crew. Mila, though, had no such qualms. She turned around, smiling slyly as she slinked up to Yurio. Viktor secretly suspected that she was attuned to the sound of Yurio’s complaints. Riling him up was, to quote her, one of her life’s joys.
“What was that?” she crooned, tilting her head as she considered him.
Yurio bristled. As much as Mila was attuned to him, he was equally attuned to her and her mischief. Both being only children, they practically interacted like siblings, Viktor thought amusedly.
“Nothing! Get away from me hag!”
“Oh?” She craned her neck as she glanced down at Yurio’s phone clenched tightly in his hand. Yurio screeched, flapping furiously as he failed to keep Mila away from him.
“Are those heart emoji’s that I see?”
“No, No!”
Yurio held Mila at arm’s length, pressing his palm into her cheek. His effort was futile, though, because Mila started cackling with glee.
The damage was already done.
“And you’re sending them to Otabek! How lovely! When’s the wedding? Can I be one of the groom’s men?”
Beet red, Yurio tackled her, wrapping his legs around her waist as he tugged at her hair.
“Shut up hag!”
They dissolved into furious roughhousing, each screeching and shouting in increasing volume. Georgi glanced behind with a look of reproach, shaking his head as he returned to his texting. Yakov slowed, let out a monumental sigh, and then stopped walking. He stomped up to them, red faced and seething.
And Oh. His veins were bulging. That was never a good sign. Viktor clasped Yuuri by the forearm and sped walked the two of them up to the front of the group next to Georgi. No need to get involved in one of Yakov’s famous temper tantrums. He’d leave them to their fate.
Mila and Yurio’s yells stopped abruptly as a much deeper and frustrated voice bellowed. Yuuri shuddered.
“I fear the day when I get on Yakov’s bad side.”
Georgi raised his eyebrows, glancing away from his phone as he considered Yuuri.
“You’re already on his good side, Yuuri. After being around Mila, Yuri, and Viktor for years, you’re like a breath of fresh air for him,” he proclaimed, smirk curling his lips as he glanced at Viktor.
Viktor shrugged. He couldn’t deny it after all. He lost count the number of times Yakov had gotten on his case. Instead, he hugged Yuuri to his chest, nuzzling his cheek into the side of his neck.
“It’s true, my dear. Yakov actually adores you, in his own Yakov-ish way. You’re too cute and too hardworking for him to ever get mad at.”
Yuuri chuckled nervously, eyebrows raising steadily as Yakov’s yells continued to increase in decibel level.
“Whatever you say.”
Viktor hummed as he hugged him tighter, pleased beyond belief that Yuuri appeared to have forgotten about Yurio’s snide remark. His trick worked well, he thought smugly. He smiled at Yuuri sweetly, faltering a bit as he noticed the tie fluttering in the breeze.
Ah. Perhaps it worked too well, for now Viktor had nothing to distract himself.
He squeezed Yuuri’s hand, determined to get him home. He’d take care of that tie, alright. He had a few ideas.
Viktor pressed Yuuri up against the counter, kissing him deeply as he roamed his hands up and down his back. He was still riled up from the tie, and if his plan to dispose of it happened to involve this, then all the better. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
Yuuri hummed, arching his full body against Viktor’s as he surged into the kiss. Viktor shivered. He needed to enact the plan before he was too far gone. Cracking open his left eye, he noted Makkachin trotting into the kitchen with glee.
Before attacking Yuuri, Viktor made sure to rile Makkachin up with a few of his doggy toys. While Yuuri was in the kitchen making tea, Viktor was enacting the first part of his plan. He could tell that Makkachin still wanted to play, which was excellent.
Viktor broke the kiss, urging Yuuri to take off his jacket. As it slid off his arms, he grasped the tie, using it to pull Yuuri back into a rough kiss. Yuuri hummed, clasping Viktor’s hair into his fists.
Fingering the knot of the tie, Viktor loosened it enough to remove it from Yuuri’s neck. Clenching the tie in his fist, Viktor opened his eyes and glanced to the side. Makkachin perked up, doggy ears flopping as he trotted up to Viktor.
Perfect.
Viktor parted his mouth, tracing Yuuri’s bottom lip with his tongue. Yuuri moaned involuntarily, allowing him to plunge his tongue inside. He considered Yuuri through his narrowed gaze. With his eyes closed and his face flushed, now was the best time.
Viktor flung the tie out to Makkachin and he leaped, catching it in midair.
Success!
Makkachin clenched the tie in his mouth, shaking his head back and forth as it flopped listlessly. He watched him scamper out of the next room, tie trailing behind him. Viktor hummed, sure that the tie would be beyond wearable once his dear doggy was done with it.
Pleased, he returned to the much more pressing and enjoyable activity in front of him that didn’t involve tie sabotage.
A few days later found Viktor and Yuuri luxuriating on the couch, idly watching the evening news while trading little snippets about their day. Viktor's head rested across Yuuri’s chest while his hand carded through Viktor’s hair. It was the moments like these, simple and idyllic, that Viktor cherished. He closed his eyes as he listened to Yuuri talk about navigating the streets of St. Petersburg and how his Russian, while rocky, was slowly getting better.
“… and I was able to actually understand what she was saying, Viktor! It’s great. I haven’t been able to hold such a complex conversation bef –”
Yuuri stopped his hand suddenly. Viktor perked up.
“Is there something wrong, love?”
Silence.
Viktor sat up in confusion. Yuuri was holding something, mouth parted.
“How… how in the world did my tie get stuck in between the cushions?”
Viktor stilled.
“Ah, well you see –”
“And why is it damp?”
Yuuri unfurled the lump, letting the tie spill across his chest. Viktor could see that it was indeed a bit damp, but other than that, it appeared to be in decent shape.
Goddammit.
Yuuri scrambled, pushing Viktor off as he stood up. He fingered the fabric, then sent the snoozing Makkachin a side-long glance.
“He must have taken it while we were in the kitchen a few nights ago,” he concluded pensively, smiling at Viktor, “I really got quite lucky. He usually rips things like this to pieces. Just a quick wash should set it right.”
Yuuri walked away, a slight pep in his step.
Viktor deflated, collapsing on the coach as he glared at Makkachin. His whispered at him hollowly.
“I’ve raised you since you were a puppy Makkachin, and this is how you repay me? With betrayal?” He threw his hands up dramatically. “My own dog, the defector!” He sighed as he crossed his arms petulantly.
Back to square one.
Another week passed before the return of the eyesore. Viktor’s eye twitched as he fixated on the tie, unable to look away from the elephant in the room. Or at least it seemed like one to Viktor.
The entire Russian skating team was at a fancy restaurant, discussing business with a few potential sponsors that were interested in signing advertisement deals with the team. Yakov barked at them to dress nicely for the event, stressing the importance of sponsors when one was a competitive athlete. And Yuuri, his dear Yuuri, figured that the best attire for the event included the tie even though Viktor had bought him (or more like forced upon) countless other ties at this point - Others that were much more stylish, made of much better material, and were much better suited to his coloring. But of course Yuuri figured that the tie was the right choice for the event.
Of course.
And of course, at this point Viktor was lost to the proceedings around him. He needed all the mental strength to keep from jumping Yuuri in front of Yakov, the team, and the sponsors.
Because as much as the tie was frumpy and dowdy, Yuuri could make anything look good. That combined with the history of the tie made for a very rumpled Viktor.
He clenched his cup of coffee.
He’d been getting countless refills because he kept chugging it in his frustration; It also kept his hands occupied.
Mila grinned, placing a palm under her hand as she regarded Viktor saccharinely.
“Something wrong, Vitya?” she purred under her breath.
Viktor brought the mug up to his mouth, growling softly. The witch damn well knew what was wrong. He sincerely regretted spilling to her about his little problem a few weeks ago while tipsy. Apparently his inebriated self was desperate for a confidant.
Viktor muttered something indistinguishable and took another swig of lukewarm coffee for lack of anything else to do.
Viktor could feel her smirking at him and refused to give her any more attention, but that left him with the small (large) problem of nowhere to look at other than Yuuri.
Fortunately Yuuri was preoccupied, attentively talking with one of the sponsors. If Viktor recalled correctly (and that was a big if given his state of mind when they were introduced) she was a representative from Sportsmaster Ltd. Initially, it wasn’t a part of the plan to include Yuuri on any of the dealings as their first priority during this meeting was with the Russian skaters, but it seemed not even she was safe from Yuuri’s soft charm.
She and Yuuri appeared to be getting on well. If Yuuri was lucky, he might actually get an offering from her.
Viktor shouldn’t mess this up this opportunity for him.
Yuuri let out a peal of laughter, covering his mouth with one hand as amusement sparkled in his eyes.
Viktor gulped. Yes. He really shouldn’t.
He unwittingly glanced at the tie again. Before Yuuri relaxed with a glass of wine, he had fingered it a bit in his nervousness. Knot loosened, it now looped lazily down his chest. It looked very similar to its state right before Yuuri challenged Yurio to the dance battle all those months ago.
Viktor stood abruptly, chair scrapping loudly. The best scenario for everyone here involved Viktor removing himself from the situation as quickly as possible.
(Now this would have been a great idea, but indeed, Viktor wasn’t quite in the right mind at the moment, and as a result the person coming down the aisle bumped into Viktor.)
Viktor, still clutching the mug, lurched forward, sending the remaining contents onto the person directly in front of him.
Oh dear.
Yuuri stared at him, wide-eyed. Little trails of coffee dripped down his face. Strands of his hair clumped together, moving slightly as the weight of the liquid fell off the locks. But best of all, oh yes best of all, the tie had several flecks of coffee spattered across it.
Oh yes.
“O-oh man, I’m so sorry!” the woman (savior?) sputtered as she waved her arms frantically. “I didn’t see you in time to stop!”
Yuuri grabbed a napkin as he dabbed at his face. He shot Viktor a frustrated glance before regarding her much more sweetly.
“It’s no problem. Really, don’t worry about it.”
The woman didn’t look too reassured, and kept vocalizing her distress as she wrung her hands. Yuuri eventually managed to appease her after a minute before she finally conceded and went on her way.
Viktor sat back down again now that the mood was broken. He didn’t feel flustered anymore, just incredibly pleased and smug that he managed to exterminate the tie without even planning it.
Mila cleared her throat as she rummaged in her purse.
“Yuuri, it’d be a shame to have that tie permanently stained.”
Viktor froze, turning his head mechanically in her direction. She didn’t acknowledge him directly, but if the little upturn to her mouth was any indication, she was very, very aware of Viktor’s plight.
Yuuri sighed. “Yeah, well I don’t exactly have anything on hand to get out coffee stains.”
Mila hummed, suddenly retrieving a small bottle from her purse.
“This should work, Yuuri. It’s stain remover. I always keep a bottle on hand with me for emergencies.”
She smiled, handing over the bottle to a surprised Yuuri.
“Oh! Great, I’ll go tend to it right away!” he said, scrambling out of his seat. He gave Mila a quick bow.
“Thank you so much!”
Mila nodded at him and smiled sweetly.
Yuuri bustled away and conversation at the table gradually returned. It remained stonily silent near the end where Viktor and Mila sat, though.
Mila took a loud sip through her straw, drawing a few stares from people sitting nearby.
“Something wrong, Vitya?” she repeated.
Viktor smiled through his teeth. “No. Everything’s fine.”
(Everything was not fine.)
Viktor clutched the tie in his hands. He stood on the quiet street corner a few blocks away from their apartment. Next to a trash can.
(It was a pivotal moment.)
His hand shook as he held it above the opening of the can. All he hand to do was release his grip, walk away, and his torment would be over. He could easily suggest that the tie got lost in the wash or that Makkachin had gotten a hold of it, and those would be reasonable suggestions, for they had already happened before. Just like that, Viktor could be free of the thing.
But.
Viktor sighed, releasing a puff of air he didn’t even know he was holding. He couldn’t throw it away. He just couldn’t. It’d be throwing away all those memories, all those lovely, life-changing memories that Viktor held dear to his heart.
Viktor clutched the tie to his chest, stroking the fabric. He would just have to hide it - squirrel it away in a place that not even Makkachin could discover. Mind made up, Viktor walked back the apartment, idly stroking the tie in his jacket pocket. If he was lucky, he’d make it back before Yuuri returned from his jog. He could surprise Yuuri with a few muffins from the bakery by their apartment if he was quick enough. Viktor’s heart swelled, thinking of the bright smile that would flash across Yuuri’s face when he noticed his favorite banana nut muffin.
Yes. When it came to Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor was a weak, weak man.
Laughter filtered quietly through the apartment as Georgi, in all his dulcet tones, recalled some of the most cringe worthy dates he had been on.
His deep voice turned incredulous. “And then, as if having her grandma with us on the date wasn’t weird enough, she proceeded to …”
Viktor smiled as he tuned out their antics in the living room. Yuuri’s party was going smoothly. It wasn’t officially his birthday yet, but given the crazy schedule with the Grand Prix looming on the horizon, this was the best time for everyone to celebrate it.
Yuuri leaned against the counter in front of him, nursing a glass of wine. He had on a nice dark blue jacket with a crisp white dress shirt underneath. His hair was shiny under the light, curling a bit around his ears. His lips, stained from the wine, pursued as he listened to Georgi carry on.
He looked beautiful, elegant. Ravishing.
(And best of all, the tie was nowhere in sight.)
“Aren’t you glad we don’t have to deal with the stress of dating ever again?” Yuuri muttered, looking a little horrified as Georgi started miming aborted choking sounds.
Viktor laughed quietly as he looped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, fitting him snugly against his chest. He leaned his head close to Yuuri’s ear and whispered.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I was to be officially taken off the market by you, my love.”
Yuuri clasped Viktor’s hand on his shoulder and hummed, leaning his head into Viktor’s as he nuzzled his cheek.
“Oi, Katsudon!”
The calm, aside from Georgi’s monologue, was broken as a soft package hit Yuuri in the side of the head.
“Oh!” Yuuri jumped in Viktor’s arms, quickly looking up to see Yurio in the entrance to the kitchen. With a light flush on his cheeks and a bowed head, he appeared a little nervous.
Examining the ground, Yurio muttered, “I was shopping online and figured you could use one of these. The site gave me a discount if I ordered a second one, so it would have been stupid to pass up the deal.”
Viktor could see a pleased smile stretch its way across Yuuri’s face as Yurio spoke. It was obvious to everyone in the kitchen that this was Yurio’s birthday gift to Yuuri. But Yurio being Yurio, he couldn’t give up the game and outright admit that. Yurio liked to display his affections a little more subtly.
That was the way Yurio expressed his love, after all.
Yuuri bent down and grasped the small gift. Little cats in various positions decorated the paper, Viktor noted amusedly. Yurio glanced up at the crinkling sound of Yuuri unwrapping the gift, not quite able to mask the eager look on his face.
Yuuri tore the paper away, exposing a small bundle of blue fabric.
Oh.
Oh no.
Viktor felt his smile freeze mechanically. At this point Viktor was keenly attuned to that particular shade of blue - that powdery, frumpy, tacky shade of blue that Viktor had only ever encountered once.
Yuuri let the bundle unfurl, and yes, Viktor’s instincts didn’t fail him, because resting in Yuuri’s hand was none other than the item that had plagued him for months.
It was The Tie.
“Yurio! This is great! How did you manage to find this?” Yuuri exclaimed. Yurio flushed, letting a wide smile strech across his face.
“It was difficult, Katsudon, I can tell you that! This tie had been discontinued years ago, so I had to email the company and request to have it special ordered!”
(Viktor scoffed internally - It was no surprise to him that it got discontinued.)
Yuuri smiled so widely that his eyes closed in pleasure. Holding his arms out in front of himself, he speedily launched at Yurio, capturing him in a tight hug.
Yurio released a puff of air from Yuuri’s attack.
“Oi, let go Katsudon!”
Yurio futility tried to release himself from Yuuri’s clutches, but Viktor knew better. When Yuuri got going like that it was nearly impossible to get him off of you. He became a human barnacle.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Yuuri exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for this tie everywhere! I was really torn up about losing it!”
Viktor startled, feeling a tendril of guilt worm its way through his body. He didn’t know it meant that much to him…
Yurio scoffed. “Yeah, well I just got tired of hearing you complain about losing it. That’s all it was piggy.”
Yuuri’s met Yurio’s eyes now, and oh, his eyes were a little watery. Viktor squirmed uneasily. He had no idea that Yuuri missed it enough to tell Yurio.
Yuuri sniffed. “All the same, thank you Yurio.”
Yurio blushed, looking away. He wore a slight smile that gave him away, though.
“Make sure not to misplace this one, especially with all the trouble I went through to get it.”
Successfully extracting himself from Yuuri, he left the kitchen and returned to the living room.
Yuuri sighed happily as he turned around to address Viktor.
“That was so nice of him,” he sniffed, eyes shining. He began fingering the tie, glancing down at it fondly. “I know how much this tie means to you Viktor, and I know it’s not the same one, but hopefully it’ll make do nevertheless.”
Wait. What?
“What?”
Yuuri glanced up, and was it just Viktor, or did he look a bit coy?
“Oh I think you know exactly what I mean, Vitya,” he murmured, eyes half-mast through his fringe.
(Ok, yes. He was definitely being coy.)
Yuuri slinked up to him, grabbing Viktor’s tie as he pulled him close. Yuuri’s lips were only a few inches away from his.
“I have a pretty good idea of what goes through your head when I wear this,” he whispered, winking.
Viktor trembled. He desperately wanted to kiss him, and was leaning in to do so, when a sudden thought came to him. He abruptly pulled back.
“Wait! So you’ve been wearing it on purpose!”
Yuuri’s lips twitched. “I had my suspicions,” he said mischievously. “At first I just thought you were frustrated at how unfashionable it was, but then I noticed that you kept blushing around me every time I wore it.” Yuuri’s eyes darkened as he smiled fully now. “It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”
Viktor’s eyes bugged. While he felt a lot less guilty about hiding it now, he couldn’t help the undeniable tingle of arousal that shot through him. He covered his blushing cheeks with his hands.
“Do you know how hard it was to not attack you every time you wore it? I was losing my mind, Yuuri!” His tone turned indignant. “And no wonder you ignored all the ties I bought you!”
Yuuri chuckled quietly, stepping closer to Viktor again. “Well now that we have it back, I can promise to not wear it out in public.” His expression turned impish. “In fact, I can think of a few uses for it with just the two of us.” As Yuuri talked he trailed the tie through Viktor’s wrists enticingly, a darker blush blooming across his cheeks.
Viktor gulped.
He ran out into the living room. “Ok, party’s over! Everyone out!”
A collective groan met his declaration, but Viktor was insistent. After practically shoving a lollygagging and inebriated Mila out the door, he spun around hastily. Yuuri stood in the living room, clutching something in his fist.
He frowned as he met Viktor’s eyes.
“Viktor… why was my old tie shoved in the back of your dresser?”
Well crap.