Work Text:
Yuuri Katsuki is an unlovable man, and that is the fact of the matter.
Don’t get him wrong, his parents love him. His sister loves him, his friends regard him with close platonic affection. Yet, no one has ever stepped forward to ask for his hand to court, asked him to walk with them under the romantic spread of a starlit street.
He has walked that road before, where all couples in their city stroll while leaning into each other and laughing at the joy of being together, but Yuuri always walks it alone, to use as a shortcut from his home to his mentor’s studio. He convinces himself, most days, that the solitude of his footsteps on that road doesn’t mean anything.
Some days though, he speeds his steps and tries to touch his sandals to path as little as possible, because it is a place for lovers, and Yuuri — for all the friends he has and all the love that surrounds him — has no one to walk down it with. He doesn’t belong there. On other days, he simply takes a long detour, to avoid being reminded of the lack of romance in his life.
It is his sixth failed blind date set up by his friend Phichit that gives him the painful revelation that he’s unlovable. “You’re not my type,” they say, or, “I don’t think that we’d work out,” even though their conversation had been light and their company joyful. It’s like a switch goes off between their last laugh and their last words — one moment their feelings are synched, and Yuuri thinks that they will want to meet again, but the next moment their eyes shutter, and they say with barely any regret that they would rather not meet again at all.
Phichit declares that they’re foolish, and so is Yuuri. “You’re not unlovable!” he insists, gold bangles clinking together as his hands gesture wildly. “People have different tastes, Yuuri, and they probably decided that you didn’t fit it!”
“Six times in a row?” Yuuri asks, sitting on the stone steps leading to his home. “If I really wasn’t their type, Phichit, I’m pretty sure that they would leave earlier than, say, twenty minutes after we’re done eating.” He sighs, dropping his head onto his hands. “It’s strange. One moment everything is fine, and I think that this is the one, we can work things out, but the next they just... don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“Well, that’s a good thing then,” Phichit says, his eyes hard, “If they don’t want anything to do with you, they don’t deserve you.” He reaches for a comforting pat on the shoulder. “But trust me, Yuuri, you are not unlovable at all and anyone that thinks you are should get their head checked by the doctors.”
Yuuri accepts the pat with a small smile. “Thanks, Phichit,” he replies, standing up and brushing some dirt off his tunic. “I think I’m going to go inside now. My parents will want to know... and I’ll have to tell them that it didn’t work out. Again.” He drops his chin with a sigh, but squares his shoulders to go in and face them.
His parents take the news as well as they normally do — that is, comforting him and telling him that maybe next time, things would work out. They mean well, he knows, and they want the best for him, but sometimes their comfort feels like pity, and it aches. Gnaws at his heart with anxiety. Mari is fortunate, he thinks, she doesn’t want a romantic relationship, and she’s happy.
On the other hand, Yuuri dreams of it, regards the thought of romance wistfully and hopes with all his heart to someday have someone to walk down the lover’s lane with. Taller than me, he decides as he walks to his room. Taller, with eyes that sparkle when they look at me.
As he enters his room and takes off his tunic to change into a more comfortable one so he can help downstairs in the restaurant part of the building, a dove coos before spreading its white wings and flying away.
“Maybe,” his sister slides to stand next to him during a lull in the dinner shift, taking a drag of her smoking pipe, “Maybe you should pay a visit to a temple.”
Yuuri can’t help but give her a surprised look. “What for?”
“I heard from mom and dad about how the latest date went,” Mari drawls before setting her pipe aside. She reaches up to adjust her hair instead. “I was thinking that maybe you should pay an offering to one of the gods to meet the right person for you. I can tell that you’re not as okay with this situation as you tell our parents.” She fixes him with a knowing stare.
Yuuri winces, but can feel gratefulness welling in his heart. Mari has always been blunt, and has always been good at reading him, and her well-meaning doesn’t come off as pity that much. “Which god would I even go to?” he asks. “There are six gods of love, Mari.”
“Eros,” she says without hesitation. “Seduce yourself someone nice, little brother.” She throws him a wink as she gets back to work, leaving Yuuri sputtering with embarrassment.
The embarrassment manifests on his face as a near-perpetual blush for the rest of the evening, and even carries onto the next morning. Eros, the god of sexual love? He hasn’t had sex much (mostly to enjoy the physical sensation with one or two of his close friends, to understand how the pleasure works) but Yuuri knows that Eros is not the kind of love that he’s interested in. Sexual love is... a way to start a relationship, but Yuuri wants something longer, slower, more long-lasting. Pragma.
Eros is the spark of the first meeting, an excited tension that carries people together into bed to enjoy themselves. It’s a love that one would do mad things for. Eros is what spurred the reputation of Helen of Troy, the woman so beautiful that all sorts of people across the land came to court her. Yuuri doesn’t want to lose control like that, or for someone to go mad for him. (Even if the thought is flattering.)
At noon, however, Yuuri fastens on his best tunic and laces on his sandals to go to the temple of Eros. After all, it had been the one that Mari suggested, and there really was no harm in taking her advice. I can visit Pragma another day, if Eros does not work out.
The dove that usually perches on his windowsill coos louder than normal that day, before taking off as he leaves.
The temple of Eros is built that same as all other small temples of love — six pillars around a domed building. There are two rooms inside, one with the statue of the god and the place to put offerings and make prayers, and another for priests and priestesses to meditate and do their duties throughout the day. The only difference is in the statues, and the decorations.
Yuuri enters nervously, and just takes a moment to wipe his glasses. When he puts them back on though, a priestess has floated over to him, her hood hiding most of her features. Only her lips are visible as she speaks. “I know of you,” she says, and Yuuri balks. “White lilies.”
“I- what?” Yuuri asks, confused.
The priestess nods, and places her hands together. “Eros has told us of you, Yuuri Katsuki.” Yuuri gapes. “You will find the love that you seek if you go to the Vale, where the white lilies grow.”
The Vale? I must have misheard. “That’s sacred ground, though,” Yuuri protests.
“Go there if you want the love you seek,” is all she says before she drifts off.
He goes, in the end. The valley is an hour’s walk from the city, and the path is frequented by worshippers of the six gods of love, so the journey is safe. He goes the same day, departing after a quick meal in the afternoon so that he doesn’t let his anxiety talk him out of the idea.
Mari looks on approvingly when he says that he visited the temple of Eros, and that is at a priestess’ behest that he’s going. His parents are just as approvingly, and pack him a light meal to eat on the road and wish him safe travel. Phichit accompanies him to the city gates and wishes him luck.
The trip is easy, but entering the valley is not. Hundreds of people kneel near the divine pillars that separate the sacred ground from the rest of the world, and there are guards standing to makes sure that none try to enter. But the priestess had been clear in her instructions, and there is no place in this area other than the Vale that grows white lilies. He approaches the boundary cautiously.
A guard stops him, of course, a young man with a square jaw and the back of his head closely shaven. “None may enter.” Judging by the stripes that adorn his wrist-guards, he serves the god of Agape.
“A priestess of Eros sent me here,” Yuuri says. “I’m to go to the white lilies.”
“You are Yuuri Katsuki?” the guard asks, looking down at him.
“... Yes.”
The guard nods, and steps aside.
“Wait,” Yuuri touches the man’s bracer uncertainly. “How do you know me?”
The guard stares at him blankly. “I may serve Agape, but I have heard of you. All those that interact with Eros have.”
“What?”
“Go to the white lilies, Yuuri Katsuki.” The guard returns to his post, and says no more.
The inside of the Vale is silent, albeit for the cooing of doves and flap of butterfly wings brushing against plants. The sun seems to shine brighter, almost blindingly so, but Yuuri clutches the hem of his tunic before continuing on. He’s careful to tread lightly, for fear of crushing the plants that grow on the sacred ground, and there is no path that he could use to walk.
He finds the white lilies eventually. Whether it is a long period of time or a short period of time, he doesn’t know. They’re all in bloom, beautiful and fragrant, and Yuuri hesitates on the edge of the plants, as he is uncertain as to what next. But a dove coos, and he turns to the sound. It looks to be the same one that usually perches on his windowsill. “Hello,” he greets it softly.
The dove blinks at him before flapping up at his head, prompting him to step into the flowers as so to avoid getting hit. He turns around to scold it, or possibly ask what the fuck even though it wouldn’t respond, but it's gone.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” the being hovering there instead says. Yuuri steps back into the lilies, staring even as he reaches a hand to caress Yuuri’s jawline.
Brown wings fading into white at the bottom keep him in the air, and there is a black cloth obscuring his eyes, trailing off and mixing in with beautiful long strands of silver hair that skimmers in the sun. The being is mostly naked, a loincloth wrapped around his hips and cloth wrapped around his wrists. A bow rests in one hand, and a quiver on his back.
He’s beautiful.
“Eros?” Yuuri whispers, for the being is too beautiful to be anything but one of the deities of love that reside in the Vale. The bow and arrows give him away as well.
Eros nods, humming a tune as he traces Yuuri’s face with his fingers, a smile playing on his lips. He pauses when he touches Yuuri’s glasses, but continues on exploring Yuuri’s face. “You’ve finally came,” he says. “And please, call me Victor.”
Yuuri doesn’t know which statement to react to first. “You’ve been waiting for me?” he asks.
Eros’ face splits into a grin. “Of course I have!” he says, taking Yuuri’s hands in his. “I’ve been waiting for so very long for you, Yuuri! All people come to my temple at some point, but my servants have been waiting for you to step in to give you my message for years!”
“Eros, I-” Yuuri licks his lips, “What-?”
“Call me Victor,” he says.
Yuuri can’t wrap his head around the idea of referring to Eros as anything but his title, but he complies anyways. He clenches his hands, aware that their fingers are intertwined, but strangely not feeling like pulling away. It feels wrong to pull away. “What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me, Victor? I came here seeking love.”
Victor makes a happy sound in his throat. “And you found me!” he floats closer to Yuuri, “If only I could see you like this. You have the most beautiful blush. All your expressions are beautiful, but I love when you blush.” He breaks his grip on one hand to return to caressing Yuuri’s face.
“What?” Yuuri sounds as lost as he feels.
“You’re mine,” Victor says matter-of-factly. “That’s why you’re unlovable to humans. You’ve been marked mine a long time ago, so any that would dare love the one that I love have their hearts reversed.”
Have their hearts reversed. No wonder all those people he had felt chemistry with- Yuuri steps backwards, away from Victor. “What are you talking about?” he asks desperately. “You can’t possibly-” Yuuri came to find love in the Vale, yes, but he had never expected this.
To meet Eros, one of the forms of love.
To hear that the god loves him, and that’s why no one else has.
Victor scoffs, and tosses his hair over his shoulder. “I decided, a very long time ago,” he sings, grip tightening on Yuuri, “When children were throwing rocks at me as a dove, you were the one that chased them away. You have a beautiful heart, and I may be Eros, but I am lonely. I bring love to you mortals, but no mortal loved me.” Even with the blindfold on, Victor’s sadness is clear. “But you- I hope-” he takes in a deep breath, “Will you love me, Yuuri Katsuki?” Victor brings Yuuri’s hand up as he says the words, spreading his fingers across his bare chest.
Yuuri has no idea where to begin.
“You want me to love you,” Yuuri says. Victor nods. “You want me to love you.”
“I want you.” Victor’s tone is clear and guileless. “I bring love to mortals, but lately it feels so stagnant. Uninspiring. But you make me feel differently. You remind me that love exists beyond my arrows, and I want you.” He holds Yuuri’s hand to his chest still.
“I don’t understand,” Yuuri says helplessly. “I just wanted to find an answer to why I’m unlovable, not... find out that a god loves me.” He frowns, “Why is your chest so...”
“I have no heart,” Victor says. “For you long ago stole it, when you danced at the festival of the loves and made a little flower crown for the dove on your windowsill.”
Something clicks. “The dove the whole time was you!?” Yuuri is horrified. The dove that usually stayed near his window had been there for many years. He had complained to it, changed in front of it, done so many very embarrassing things because he had thought it was just a bird.
Victor smiles again, his mouth somewhat heart-shaped in his cheer. “Surprise!”
“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, and he blacks out.
When Yuuri comes to, he’s staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, and someone is holding his hand.
He turns in bed, joints stiff from probably lying too long, and stills in shock at the man by his bedside. Victor is no longer mostly naked, wearing a fine tunic, and his hair is tied up neatly, one bang hanging over his left eye, the blindfold gone with his wings. He stirs, and impossibly blue eyes meet Yuuri’s brown, expression immediately morphing into cheer. “You’re awake!” he moves forward, and the next thing that Yuuri knows is that he’s being hugged.
“Victor?” he says the being’s name with all the confusion he feels at the moment. “What are you doing here?”
Victor withdraws, and Yuuri finds himself missing the contact almost immediately, which is- strange. But it had felt good, so.... his thoughts are so jumbled right now. “Agape came and yelled at me after you fainted,” Victor explains, running his thumb of Yuuri’s hands, staring at him with some unreadable intent. “He said I went about courting you wrong. Which is funny, because Agape does unconditional love, so what does he know about courting- but anyway, you fainted. I was so worried!”
“I see,” is all Yuuri can really say.
Victor looks away. “I went and asked the one that oversees us, and asked him if I may... have permission, to spend time as a human, when I am not doing my duties.” Well, that explains the lack of wings and the blindfold. “May I court you properly, Yuuri? I’ve donned human form to do so.”
And oh, Yuuri’s breath leaves his lungs. Part of him is frozen is disbelief, but another part leaps in elation. “I still don’t understand, Victor,” he says carefully, “Why do you want to court me?”
Victor tilts his head. “An easier question would be why wouldn’t I want to court you? There’s nothing about you to not love. Even those that made you think that you were unlovable — that was my fault, because I had set my eyes on you for such a long time that those that would try to take you away...” he sighs, but his gaze returns to Yuuri. “At the moment, your parents believe that I am a friendly traveller who found you on the road after you fainted for an unknown reason, and brought you back. They would not mind, I think. They seemed happy that I expressed interest in you.”
“They want me to be happy,” Yuuri says.
“Ah.” Victor reaches across Yuuri, and tugs his other hand, clasping it tightly. “Will you let me try to make you happy, Yuuri? I want this. I want to.”
Looking at Victor’s beseeching expression, his sky-blue eyes and the purse of his lips, Yuuri feels for a moment — feels a wonder at what if I said yes? — but a worry weighs on the tip of his tongue. “I’m human, you know. I’ll die, and you’ll be left alone. What then?”
“I am a god,” Victor counters, “I will wait for you to be reborn, and we’ll fall in love all over again.”
Yuuri wants love and Victor wants to give him that love. They want the same thing in the end, to share love together and not feel as if they’re all alone — Yuuri in Victor’s inadvertent dismissal of all his suitors, Victor in that being a deity that brings love, he has no one to make himself feel love. And while Victor’s solution isn’t perfect, doesn’t offer a permanent solution, Yuuri looks in his heart and feels contentment. Like he’s finally settled into his feelings.
“Court me then, Victor,” Yuuri says, “We’ll be happy together, and when I’m reborn, I’m sure that I’ll be happy to fall in love with you all over again.”
Victor beams, his lips forming a heart, before he shifts to- kiss Yuuri on the mouth. It’s quick, just the barest of pressure that Yuuri registers, Victor drawing back just as quickly as he had moved forward. “Was that okay?” he asks breathlessly. “Or am I moving too fast for human standards?”
Yuuri touches his lips self-consciously, somewhat in a daze. It takes a few moments before his looks up at Victor again. “I think I might need another one to make a decision,” he says with the slightest hint of a smirk.
And oh, Victor had thought he already loved everything about Yuuri that was there to love but- he may have just fallen in love a little bit more just now.
(It takes many more kisses before Yuuri reaches a decision, and it’s a resounding conclusion that kissing Victor is very okay.)
“I’m sorry,” the apology spills from Victor’s mouth suddenly, hours later after dinner and Yuuri introducing him to his parents as a potential lover. “It’s my fault that you felt unloved.”
Yuuri is no fool. “You aren’t at all, are you?” he doesn’t look at Victor as he says it, merely holding up their hands to fit them together. “You’re happy that there’s no competition for you.” They’re sitting on his bed together, Yuuri’s head tucked under Victor’s chin, Victor’s form curled around him. A strange acceptance had settled in Yuuri’s chest ever since Victor’s admittance in the lilies. There is little one can do when the gods have become set and their ways, and while the sting of the rejections hurt- he has an answer now, at least. And an apology, even if it isn’t entirely genuine.
“I’m sorry that I made you feel unloved, then,” Victor amends, bowing his head to lean on Yuuri’s shoulder, his silver hair falling over both of them. “I never wished for you to feel that way.”
Yuuri hesitates for just the briefest second before reach up to pat Victor’s head. “Thank you for apologizing, at least. Your honesty... means something.”
They sit in silence like that for a little while, Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist as he threads fingers through Victor’s hair. It is only after the sun sets that Victor speaks again. “Eros is a love associated with doing crazy acts, you humans say,” he says, sitting up so that his breath ghosts over Yuuri’s right ear. He smiles at the way Yuuri shudders in his embrace. “It must be true, as I’ve gone to the point of donning a human skin to court you.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just shoot me?” Yuuri asks. He couldn’t help but be curious, even if it was an unpleasant thought. At the moment, he doesn’t love Victor. There is an attraction, yes, for how could one not be attracted to Victor, whose appearance is exactly what one would think a god in human guise would look. Being with Victor so far is... comfortable.
So while Yuuri doesn’t love Victor yet, he’s willing to fall in love with him.
“The arrows don’t work when it pertains to the gods,” Victor says. “And besides, I don’t...” He shifts restlessly, his grip on Yuuri tightening for a moment. “I want you to love me for me, not because I used my powers.” He laughs, a laugh that is a pale imitation of true laughter because of the sadness that weighs it down. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? The one who watches over us thought so too. He said that my nature is too fleeting for this to last.”
“It sounds like something Eros would do,” Yuuri replies. He turns to Victor, reaches up to touch Victor’s chin. “But it’s possible for the spark of eros to lead the way to pragma, isn’t it?”
It’s hard to not look away from Victor after that, for his eyes are so bright with hope that it almost hurts to see. “Yes,” he says, “Let us turn eros to pragma. I’m sure our relationship will have plenty of eros though, because I am me, but- it sounds wonderful. Yes.”
Excited, “Yes”s are all that follow as Victor pulls Yuuri down to the mattress, to press kisses into his face and neck in sheer exuberance.
I should like to fall in love with you, Yuuri thinks as he returns each and every one.
He thinks he is falling in love a little already.
I may be Eros, but let us have pragma’s long-lasting love together, Victor wishes, revelling in all of Yuuri’s warmth.
He fell a long time ago, for this mortal, but it is glorious to continue falling more and more every day.