Summary: Victor has a bad dream and Yuuri comforts him. Filled with doubt and reassurance, and lots of fluff. Takes place in St. Petersburg post season 1.
Notes:
I had a bad dream one night and read some Victuuri fanfic to calm down and was suddenly hit with the idea seen in first line of the summary. Also I can't get over the doubt and reassurance prompt from Victuuri week, though I know I'm totally late to the party. Regardless, here you go!
Yuuri felt himself being pulled from the gentle embrace of sleep as his eyes slowly opened. He laid on his back, eyes fixated blankly on the ceiling of the St. Petersburg apartment. The room was shrouded in darkness, as was the world outside the bedroom window, making it difficult to see. A quick glance at his phone confirmed it wasn't time to get up yet and he was normally a fairly heavy sleeper, so what had woken him?
The sound of a small moan caught his attention and his eyes fell upon his fiance on the other side of the bed they shared. He too was lying on his back, though his eyes were still closed and he was turned slightly away from the Japanese man. Yuuri admired his sleeping form, still blown away by the fact that this gorgeous human being was to be married to him. The aforementioned man made another noise as he rested, sheets rustling as he fidgeted, and let an unmistakable whimper. Yuuri let out a soft gasp at this and he moved to observe Victor more closely. Even through the darkness, he was able to see the way his eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, also closed, until it opened for a second as he muttered a soft "no". He shifted in his sleep again, turning towards Yuuri with a face contorted in what the black-haired man could only describe as pain.
"He's having a nightmare," Yuuri realized, and was taken slightly aback by this. He knew Victor was human and therefore bad dreams were inevitable, but it still shocked him. He found himself wondering what he could be dreaming about. It could be a bad memory, or maybe due to a recent viewing of a horror movie, although the two had yet to watch one together. Or perhaps it could be a scenario randomly created by the mind. Yuuri had an uncountable number of them himself throughout his lifetime. Between competition anxiety with skating and separation anxiety with Victor, his mind could play quite the antagonist when his conscious thoughts weren't in control. (Or even when they were, for that matter.)
Victor let out another noise of distress. He continued to twitch in his sleep and his fists were clenched tightly in the blanket. Yuuri quickly let his thoughts dissipate as he brought his attention back to the matter at hand. Regardless of what his fiance was dreaming about, it was obviously unpleasant so he decided to wake him up. Yuuri used a hand to gently caress him as he spoke his name in a soothing voice. Not getting any reaction at first, he tried again speaking louder, but still soft. When he called his name a third time, Victor's eyes shot open with a startled gasp. His heart was racing and his breathing was a bit faster than normal, but he began to relax as he gained his bearings.
"Yuuri…" he breathed his name in relief. Yuuri brought his hand up to Victor's face and tenderly brushed some silver strands away from his eyes and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before leaning his own against it.
"You alright? It looked like you were having a bad dream." Victor nodded in response and took Yuuri's hand, relishing in the feeling of warmth and comfort it brought him. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream.
"Wanna talk about it? Sometimes it helps. I'll be right here to listen," Yuuri offered. He rubbed his thumb soothingly over Victor's hand. The man hesitated, meeting Yuuri's gaze for a moment before looking away. He seemed so broken, and by his next words, Yuuri felt he was.
"I had a dream that you left me." His voice was so small and Yuuri had rarely seen him so vulnerable. The young skater pulled him close into his chest and wrapped his arms around the man.
"Victor, you know I would never leave you. I love you. More than words can ever say."
"I know," came the muffled response.
"Why would you ever think I would?" Yuuri wanted to add that if anything, he was the one afraid of Victor leaving him. But now wasn't about him, it was about Victor, so he kept the thought to himself.
Victor rested his head against Yuuri's chest and sighed again. "I know. I know it's stupid, but sometimes...I wonder if you really love me. Like, the real me. Which is ridiculous, I know," he interjected, "because you're the only person I can think of who's ever told me they just want me to be myself. Not Victor Nikiforov, 5-time consecutive gold medalist, living legend and world champion. Just...Victor," he confessed. "I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I guess some part of me is just waiting for the day when god, or whoever, or whatever is up there says, 'You seem pretty happy there. Well, it turns out we made a mistake. We're taking it back now. Enjoy the rest of your life.' I don't want that. I can't go back to a life without you, Yuuri." Yuuri continued to hold him and his fingers traced aimless patterns on Victor's back as he rambled on.
"Looking back, my life before I met you wasn't even that. I wasn't really living. It didn't feel like it anyway. Have I ever told you that you helped me find my two 'L' words? Life and love. I had neglected them both for over 20 years, you know? I was so focused on skating and yet despite my success, I felt empty. Every smile was practiced, every move calculated, every word even moreso. I never took time to enjoy the simple unexpected pleasures of life. Until I met you at the banquet." Yuuri shifted from his position on his side so he was instead laying on his back. He patted a hand on his chest, inviting Victor's head to rest on it and he did before speaking again.
"I may have first fallen for you-albeit a slightly more drunken and crazier version of you that night in Sochi, but I continue to fall for the real you more and more everyday. Even though we're engaged, and I know that you love me, there's just that voice, that small, stupid voice that whispers the cruelest untruths…" he closed his eyes as he trailed off.
"What can I do to prove it to you?" Yuuri murmured.
"Hmm?" Victor looked up.
"That I love the real you."
"I know you do, I'm just being stupid, and tired. You don't need to do anything, honestly." Victor insisted before adding, "Just stay by my side and don't leave."
"You don't even have to ask. And you know what? I'm gonna tell you why." Yuuri's soft brown eyes stared meaningfully into Victor's blue.
"Because I'm in love with a man named Victor," he started. "Not Victor Nikiforov, 5-time consecutive gold medalist, living legend and world champion. Just Victor."
Victor's expression softened as he smiled, but Yuuri had only just begun.
"Victor, who never fails to surprise me, in both skating and in private, and whose stunning blue eyes and heart-shaped smile never cease to make my heart melt." The aforementioned blue eyes shone with adoration as Yuuri held his gaze.
"Victor, whose adorably spoken 'amazing's and 'perfect's light up my world and make it exactly that." He tried to say the words the same way his fiance always did, though he was sure nothing he ever attempted could do it proper justice. Yuuri wrapped his hands around the Russian's back and held him tight as he continued.
"Victor, whose simple touches and embraces make me feel so unbelievably warm and protected, yet whose feet are absolutely freezing and loves to remind me of the fact whenever we're cuddling in bed together." Yuuri got a guilty chuckle in response to that.
"I'm in love with a man named Victor who has a rather large forehead, because it's filled with loving thoughts." He traced the space gently with a finger as he spoke, then ran a hand through his bangs. "And it's covered by beautiful silver strands that are softer than silk and definitely not thinning."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." Yuuri reached for his hands and intertwined them, savouring the feeling of the golden band against his skin.
"Victor, who has long, elegant fingers with perfectly manicured nails, which he insists would fall to pieces if he so much as dipped one into a sink load of dishes." He gave the hand an affectionate squeeze.
"Hey, manicures are expensive," the Russian defended. "And I do other chores. Sometimes."
"Hush, I'm not finished yet," Yuuri chided him and carried on.
"Victor, who treats my memos like love notes and pins them to the fridge so he can see them every day. And yet still forgets to buy the groceries written on them," he teased.
"Victor, who has seen me at my worst, and somehow managed to make it even worse that one time in China." He said it lightheartedly as brown eyes met blue to make sure his fiance understood he meant it purely as a joke and was relieved to see that he did.
"But most of all, I'm in love with a man named Victor who flew halfway across the world from Russia to a small castle town in Japan. Who showed up naked in my family's hot spring and declared he would be my coach and would help me win the Grand Prix Final. And even more than that, I'm in love with the Victor who's here right next to me. I'm in love with you," he finished.
Vicor was silent for a moment as he fought the welling tears and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "I swear to god Yuuri, if you don't put some of those in our wedding vows," he said when he found he could finally speak again.
"Feeling better?"
"Much."
"I'm glad." Yuuri moved to press a lingering kiss to his lips, and then on his hairline. Victor snuggled in closer, laying on top of Yuuri and entangling their legs and the black-haired skater let out a yelp as he felt what he swore was ice. "I really wasn't kidding about you having cold feet. There's no way any part of the human body should normally be that temperature."
"Oh come on, you love it," came the playful response and he shifted his legs again. Yuuri squirmed a bit underneath him at the cold contact, though he was smiling.
"You're right, I do. But not as much as I love you. I love you Victor, so much. Don't ever forget that, okay?"
"I won't."
"Well, if you ever need reassurance, don't hesitate to talk to me. I have a much longer list and would be more than willing to share it."
"I need to get working on my list for you. I can't have you outdo me! No offense, but I can think of at least 80 whole things to put on it. And that's just off the top of my head," Victor declared confidently.
Yuuri's heart warmed at his enthusiasm, already looking forward to seeing that list. "Maybe so, but first, sleep. We have to be up for practice in 4 hours," he reminded him.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Victor wondered aloud.
"You didn't ever need to do anything, and you don't have to now either. Just be yourself. That's all I could ever ask."
Victor continued to rest his head on Yuuri's chest as he closed his eyes, unconsciousness already creeping in as sleep began to wrap its arms around him. Yuuri embraced him as well as he spoke softly.
"I love you. I'm right by your side and I'll never leave."
Notes:
Alright! Another fanfic! I'm so happy with the feedback on my last one. I only started writing a month ago, just little stories purely for my own enjoyment, but then I figured, "What the hell? I'll upload a couple and see what people think."
Leave a review if you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't; constructive criticism is always welcome) and as always, thank you for reading!
Oh, and a bit of a funny story, I actually originally made this fic a lot more angsty with some speculation on Victor's past, but decided it was really cringey and a tad dark and out of character. I didn't want to post it, but didn't want to throw it out, so I copied the doc, changed a shit-ton of stuff, and this was the result. I still have the original, so let me know in the comments/reviews if you'd be interested in reading it. (It does contain mentions of abuse, so be warned)