Chapter Text
Victor’s eyes trailed Yuuri as he floated across the ice, gathering speed for a jump. Leaning back on the rail slightly, Victor’s eyes narrowed, realizing that his student wouldn’t have the necessary momentum to--
Ah, there it is, he thought, grimacing as Yuuri went flying. A few of the other skaters in the rink eyed him discreetly, obviously wondering if he was alright, but not feeling pressed to ask as they continued with their own lessons and practice. Victor waited patiently for him to get up and try again, because while they were most of the way through their afternoon practice, Yuuri was behind schedule for the late winter and early spring international events. Usually, Yuuri bounced back from his falls, but now he simply laid on the ice, staying on his belly with his cheek pressed to the unforgiving, but reassuring, surface.
Concerned, Victor pushed away from the rail and glided over to him. “Yuuri,” he said, savoring the way the syllables rolled off of his tongue, even after the thousands of times he had said his fianc é ’s name before. “Are you alright?” He knelt down on the ice, reaching tentatively to touch his student’s shoulder.
Yuuri sighed and turned his face away from Victor’s to hide his expression, “Yes.”
“Do you want to try it again, maybe with music this time, to help your timing?”
The long pause preceding Yuuri’s affirmation caught his attention, and Victor checked his watch. “Well, it’s almost six o’clock, would you like to have some dinner instead?”
Yuuri sat up slowly, squinting at him in thought, “Practice is until seven.”
Victor smiled warmly, and was rewarded with the faintest blush rising to Yuuri’s cheeks, “Yes, but that’s the third time you’ve fallen while trying to do a triple axel, let’s not waste any more time today.”
Irritation flickered over Yuuri’s face, which amused Victor more than it bothered him. Reserved, nervous, polite Yuuri rarely showed his irritation outwardly, and its obvious presence made Victor thrilled to see the parts of his partner that weren’t expressed to many.
“I’m behind schedule.”
“We’ll start early tomorrow.”
“I can do this jump,” he said stubbornly.
“I know you can,” Victor couldn’t help but touch Yuuri’s cheek, who responded by blushing and quickly standing up.
“Alright, but it’s your turn to choose where we go.”
Suppressing a laugh, Victor tried to take Yuuri’s irritation seriously, watching as the younger skater glided away from him, towards the locker room. You are just too beautiful , he thought, admiring the grace with which his partner huffed away.
“I can’t believe you’re letting that pork cutlet off the hook early,” said a haughty voice from behind him.
Victor shifted, letting his weight slide his skates around to look at Yurio, “I’ll talk to Yakov if you want to come,” he responded, sliding into Russian out of habit. “I’ll even let you sit next to Yuuri.”
Yurio’s fair features twisted up in angst, “Why on earth would I want to spend any more time with that pig than I have to?” Grumbling to himself, he turned around, “Either way, I’m busy changing my free skate program to something I could use to beat that loser’s record.”
“If you say so,” Victor said, silently laughing to himself. He noticed Yakov on the other side of the rink, watching, and decided to go the long way to the locker room to avoid a lecture. The locker room was empty when he arrived, Odd, Yuuri usually waits here, taking extra time to hang up his skates while I finish up. With practiced motions, Victor untied and kicked his skates away before cramming his feet into a pair of socks and the practical slip on shoes he occasionally wore to the rink for their practicality.
He grabbed his coat and scarf, rushing out before bothering to put them on.
Yuuri was standing outside at the entrance, his breath coming out in lazy white puffs. His hands were in his pockets, and his sports bag hung from one shoulder. What could he possibly be thinking? Victor wondered, hurriedly pushing open the glass double doors separating them. Without slowing, he approached Yuuri and flung one arm around his shoulders, dipping his head to press his cheek against Yuuri’s, which was cool from the midwinter air.
Startled, Yuuri reached around Victor’s waist and pulled himself into the embrace, murmuring something in Japanese that Victor couldn’t quite catch.
“What was that?” he asked innocently.
“Oh,” Yuuri flushed, “Nothing, shall we go?”
Victor pulled away from their hug, only far enough to look Yuuri in the face. “Sure,” he said thoughtfully, “Do you want to stop by the apartment to change first? I’m thinking it would be nice to stay in with some take out or make something simple, unless you’d like to go out.”
Yuuri smiled, which caused Victor’s heart to weaken. “That sounds great, Vitya.”
And if his heart were weak already, the pet name made it melt.
Back at their-- formally his-- apartment, Victor poured them each a glass of wine before readying two plates of pasta. As he reached into the fridge for the grated parmesan Yuuri loved to pile onto any and all Italian-themed food, he caught sight of the calendar hanging on the freezer. Has it already been that long since the final? He wondered, counting the weeks and days since Yuuri had brought home a gleaming silver medal, since Victor had lovingly cleared and rearranged both shelf and closet space to make room for Yuuri’s belongings. He glanced to Yuuri, who was sitting on the couch tabbing through available movies. He noticed him pause on some of the recent Japanese releases, which started showing up on Victor’s feed only after Yuuri had felt comfortable enough to start suggesting his own preferences for their nights in.
Victor picked up their plates and turned, almost tripping over a begging Makkachin in the process, “Oh, hush,” he murmured as the poodle let out a pitiful whine, “You don’t even like pasta.”
He brought the plates to Yuuri, who took them as Victor returned to the kitchen to retrieve their wine.
The apartment was dark, and the cool glow of the TV casted an ethereal glow over Yuuri’s perfect features. This is it, Victor thought, content, but Yuuri’s distracted expression worried him. “Yuuri, I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?” he asked, taking one of the glasses Victor had brought him in exchange for a plate. He set it carefully on the coffee table, out of reach from Makkachin’s wagging tail.
“I think we should take a vacation before the European championships.”
“Eh?” Yuuri turned to face him, his soft brown eyes searching his. “I’m way behind on my routine, and if you’re going to be competing then you--”
“I know,” Victor said quickly, quelling Yuuri’s words before they could build up on themselves.
With a sigh, Yuuri asked, “Where do you want to go?” He wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of traveling very far, not when he couldn’t even land his trademark jumps.
“Why don’t we go visit your family? We can enjoy the hotsprings and even squeeze in some practice time at the Ice Castle.”
Yuuri’s expressive brown eyes widened, and his expression warmed, “Victor.”
A huge, goofy smile stretched over his face before he could help it, in response to his sweetheart saying his name, “Yuuri,” he reached out, leaning in until their foreheads were touching and Yuuri’s breath was on his lips. “How does that sound?”
“That sounds so--” he paused, “Ack! I’m getting sauce on your shirt, hold on!” he said, setting his plate down, which Victor had accidently leaned right into.
Laughing, Victor set his next to Yuuri’s on the coffee table, saying, “I don’t care, just come here.”
“You’ll get it on me, too, you know how tomato sauce stains--”
“Tomorrow is laundry day anyway, Yuuri,” he breathed into his ear, pulling him down onto the couch on top of him anyway, “I’ll take care of it then.” He whispered, sprinkling affection over Yuuri’s forehead and brow.
“It is your turn,” Yuuri laughed, falling into him.
“I’ll take every turn from now until forever if it means you’ll go on a vacation with me,” Victor murmured, pulling Yuuri as close as he could.
“Victor--” Yuuri breathed, his breath catching in his throat.
“Just say you’ll go, I’ll take care of everything, you won’t have to worry.”
“But--”
“Yuuri,” he placed a gently hand on Yuuri’s chin, lifting his face to meet his gaze squarely and deeply, “I’ll take care of everything, just say you’ll go.”
Yuuri closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he relaxed into Victor’s arms, “Alright.”
Victor’s heart fluttered in his chest as he tilted his head down to place his lips gently on Yuuri’s.