A/N: Another fluff piece because I can't get enough or these two
CW: Contains mild descriptions of illness/vomiting
"Happy anniversary, my love."
"Happy anniversary, Vitya."
Victor reached for Yuuri's hand beneath the tablecloth and laced their fingers together.
"Can you believe it's been one year already?" he asked, running his thumb over the smooth curve of Yuuri's ring. He smiled, his blue eyes glimmering with affection and nostalgia.
"No," Yuuri said with a shake of his head, giving Victor a fond smile of his own. "It just flew by. But it's been the best year of my life."
Unable to help himself, Victor brought Yuuri's hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. "Mine too," he whispered. "I love you."
Even after so long, the quiet, heartfelt declaration made a blush rise to Yuuri's cheeks. He squeezed Victor's hand. "I love you, too."
Their first year of marriage came with the official end of their skating careers. After two seasons of competing side-by-side, Yuuri won gold at Worlds in Helsinki. It was then that he and Victor made the joint decision that it would be their last season on the ice. That June, they married in Hasetsu underneath the cherry blossoms, surrounded by their family and friends. After their honeymoon, they returned to St. Petersburg where they faced a whirlwind of magazine interviews and television appearances, centered mainly on their plans for the future. Naturally, the reporters brought up the idea of them becoming coaches as the next logical step. However, nothing was set in stone, and Victor and Yuuri made it clear that for right now, they wanted to simply focus on each other, and settle into domestic life without thinking too far ahead. That answer seemed reasonable enough to satisfy both the eager press and curious public, and they respected the couple's wish for privacy. With so much free time now at their disposal, Victor and Yuuri were more than happy to spend every moment doing all the things that were put on the back burner during training. Like visiting the many historical and cultural sites that St. Petersburg had to offer, taking a lazy stroll along the riverbank with Makkachin always two steps ahead, or having an intimate dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant in the heart of the city. Even staying in all day was cherished, because no matter what they did, just being together was what was important.
Victor placed another kiss to the back of Yuuri's hand before releasing him from his grasp.
"So," he said, picking up the menu laying by his glass. "What do you think, Лапочка? Should we go with our regular - lasagna for you; veal for me?"
"Actually, I was thinking of trying something new tonight," said Yuuri, peeking over the top of his menu. "I'm just not sure what I want yet."
"Oh?" Victor looked and sounded surprised. He put down his menu with Yuuri following suit a minute later. "What are you in the mood for?"
"Well..." Yuuri drummed his fingertips along the edge of the table as he considered his choices. "Either chicken or seafood. But they all look good. What do you think I should get?"
"Hmm." Victor's gaze swept over the plethora of dishes available. "I'm not sure. But I have an idea," Victor said, holding up the menu. "Just close your eyes and point. And that's the one you order. I used to do it all the time."
"Yeah? Okay..." Yuuri seemed amused but did as Victor instructed. Shutting his eyes, Yuuri drew a random shape in the air with his finger before blindly tapping a random spot on the menu.
Cracking one eye open, Yuuri looked down at what he had selected.
"Shrimp scampi," he said aloud. "I've never had that before. But it sounds delicious. I mean, it's just butter and garlic. How bad could it be?"
Once the two were properly wined and dined, they walked the three blocks back to their apartment hand-in-hand. They could feel the warmth of the two glasses of Merlot each taking effect, and they were more than ready to continue their celebration at home.
They barely made it through the door before tipsy giggles and coy looks turned to wandering hands and heated kisses in the darkened foyer of their apartment.
"Mmm," Yuuri groaned against Victor's mouth as Victor slid his knee between Yuuri's legs. "Hang on."
With his fingers still tangled in Victor's hair, Yuuri pulled back just enough for their noses to brush.
"What's wrong?" Victor asked, breathless. His eyes were clouded with need, his cheeks tinged pink.
Allowing his hands to slip down to join at the back of Victor's neck, Yuuri smiled. "Nothing. I just have to use the bathroom." He leaned forward so his lips grazed Victor's ear. "But you get ready, okay?" Yuuri unlatched Victor's arms from around his waist and hurried inside.
While Yuuri dashed off in the opposite direction, Victor headed for the kitchen. Using a tray for easier transport, Victor took a sparkling bottle of champagne from the refrigerator, along with a pair of fluted glasses, three pillar candles and a box of matches.
Making his way to the bedroom, Victor set the tray on the dresser and uncorked the champagne, relishing in the satisfying pop. After he filled the two glasses close to the brim, he gathered the trio of wax candles and perched them on the nightstand by his side of the bed.
"Yuuri, almost ready!" he called out, although he received no response.
Victor didn't think much of it, but as he struck a match to light the wick of the tallest candle, he heard a sound that made him freeze.
Retching.
With a flick of his wrist, the match went out and Victor rushed to the bathroom. "Yuuri?" He pressed his ear to the closed door and rapped twice. "Yuuri, what's going on?"
Victor reached for the doorknob, but as he twisted it, he was met with resistance. He frowned as a new wave of panic washed over him. "Yuuri, open the door," he said, his tone firm and on the edge of demanding.
"I'm okay, Victor," Yuuri said finally. His words were muffled, and despite his reassurance, his conviction was shaky. "Besides, I don't think you want to be in here right now. It's... not pretty. I'll-I'll be out in a few minutes."
Victor lowered his voice but didn't let go of the doorknob. "You don't have to be embarrassed with me, Лапочка. You know that. Please open the door. Let me help you."
There was a beat of silence, but then Victor heard the click of the lock and his husband's mumble of assent.
Victor went in, quickly closing the door behind him to keep a nosy Makkachin away. He winced at the sight before him.
Yuuri was on his knees, hunched over the toilet. The color had drained from his face, leaving just an unnatural green hue in its place. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain and Victor watched as he forced himself to take deep breaths through his nose. Next to him, his suit jacket was crumpled up into a ball on the floor and the top two buttons on his dress shirt were undone. His glasses were perched atop his head and his hair was no longer slicked back and tidy, instead sticking up at every angle. The acrid stench of vomit permeated the air.
"Oh, love..."
Grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet by the sink, Victor ran it under some cool water, all while keeping his gaze fixed on Yuuri. After wringing it out, he knelt by Yuuri's side and pressed the damp cloth to his face. Yuuri whimpered at the contact.
"Love, what happened?" Victor asked, keeping his voice right above a whisper.
Yuuri sniffled, giving his shoulders a weak shrug. "I should have gotten the lasagna," he answered softly. He swallowed and opened his eyes to see Victor's concerned expression. Yuuri looked exhausted; energy drained from the sheer physical exertion.
"Oh, my Yuuri," Victor murmured. He took away the washcloth for a moment and moved to kiss Yuuri's sweat-soaked hair and take his glasses. "I'm so sorry. Just breathe, okay?" Victor wet the washcloth again and laid it across the nape of his neck. "There we go. It's alright."
They sat in virtual silence for a while, with the only noises being Yuuri's pained moans and Victor's occasional comforting word. They were in a strange state of suspension, waiting for the inevitable. The only factor was time. And for Yuuri's sake, Victor was glad that it was sooner rather than later. With one arm clutching his stomach and the other hugging the toilet bowl, Yuuri vomited twice more.
"Okay," Victor soothed, rubbing his back. "Good, Yuuri. Feel a little better?"
"Yeah." Yuuri's voice sounded hoarse, the result of his near-constant dry heaving.
Getting to his feet, Victor helped Yuuri wash up and change into fresh pajamas before ensuring that he was situated comfortably in bed.
"I'm sorry," Yuuri said as he watched Victor undress.
Hanging his jacket back in the closet, Victor paused and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked in genuine confusion. "For what, love?"
"Well, it's just... I mean..." Yuuri gestured vaguely to the three candles sitting on the nightstand. "You tried to make it so nice for us. Tonight was supposed to be romantic a-and special. And I ruined it."
"Yuuri..." Victor made quick work of the rest of his clothes, leaving only his tiny, black briefs. Then, he pulled back the covers and crawled into their bed, snuggling up against Yuuri's side. "Посмотри на меня, дорогая."
Understanding the request, Yuuri turned his head to meet Victor's gaze.
The corners of Victor's mouth curved up into a smile and he reached to stroke Yuuri's cheek with his thumb.
"You did not ruin anything, моя любовь. It's not your fault that you got sick. If anyone's to blame, it's the restaurant for serving ill-prepared seafood. And for the record, they will be hearing from me the second they open tomorrow."
"Yeah, but-"
Placing a gentle finger over his lips, Victor shushed him. "But nothing," he insisted. "I know tonight didn't go as planned, but that doesn't matter. Who says that this can't be just as special and romantic?" Victor curled around him and trailed kisses along his jaw. "Hm?"
Yuuri hummed in response, feeling the tension leaving his body at last. "That's true..."
"And you know what else?" Victor asked, lifting his head. There was a hint of giddiness in his voice.
"What?"
"This is only our first anniversary, love. We're going to have fifty more. Which means that we are going to have plenty of opportunities to make up for tonight. Да?"
A smile split across Yuuri's face and he laughed. "Yes."
"Good. So don't be too down, okay? We'll just call it..." Victor tapped his chin, searching for the words. His eyes then lit up a moment later. "A rain check."
A/N: Hope you liked it! Please R&R!
I also realized just how much Victor calls Yuuri "love" but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Translations:
Лапочка - sweetheart
Посмотри на меня, дорогая - look at me, darling
моя любовь - my love
да - Yes
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