N/A: These are literally just one-shots based on random words I got from a random word generator because I had no idea what to write. Also, I'm sorry if it's not that good, I know I'm pretty rusty because it's been forever since I've written anything that isn't related to school.

I've decided to tackle on three words per chapter, just to entertain my muse and calm me down from hangover Yuri! On Ice gave me. Honestly one of the cutest anime I have watched about sports. And I just realized once I reviewed it one more time, all of these are in Viktor's perspective.

Anyways, enjoy!

Pairing: Viktuuri (Viktor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki)

Rated: M because I'm pretty green-minded

Words: Colors, Claws (NSFW) & Anguish

Colors

Home is where the heart is.

Viktor mused on those words as he stared at the sunset painting the sky the most peaceful of red, orange and yellow, the warm colors reflected on the still waters below. It was like he was standing in them if it were not for the bridge he was in, and he would be a stark contrast, like a silhouette, with his gray hair and blue eyes. In a little while, a hint of purple and blue joined the gradient, and Viktor found himself amused at the thought of the country called to be the land where the sun rose, had the most beautiful of sunsets Viktor had seen in his life.

Hasetsu was a beautiful, peaceful place. It was the town that he never thought would bring so much change in every aspect of his life. He finally discovered what true relaxation was in a hot spring, found one of the most delicious dishes he had ever tasted (and got to eat them almost every day), learned how to be a coach, and most importantly, fell more in love with the most precious person in his life.

Hasetsu would always be in his heart, no matter how old he was, no matter what place he was in. But it was not home. The town may be in his heart, but his heart was not going to be left there.

The sight of the sun half buried in the water signaled Viktor that it was time to walk back to the inn for dinner. He took in the scene of the sunset one more time, his left hand moving towards the other to feel the cold, smooth gold around his ring finger. He stared at it, marveling at how the light hit and made it shine so beautifully. And there he realized, perhaps Japan was called the land of the rising sun was because of how mesmerizing the golden color of the sunrise was. While it did matter how colorful the day ended, to wake up with the sky painted marvelous gold was breathtaking.

He chuckled at his little musings before starting his journey to the inn. On his way, he would pass by stores, diners and houses lit with different colored lights. Red was always present with food, while stores were brilliantly colorful, and homes were glowing with a relaxing white in their windows. Those bright colors were a lovely contrast to the dark, earthy tones of nature. The tree trunks were warm brown, and happily reminded him of Makkachin, while the green in the leaves started to darken as the night flowed in.

When he finally arrived and saw Yuuri smiling at him by the door, he decided which set of colors he liked the best.

The daylight filled everything with color, from gold in the sunrise, to the different palletes throughout the course of the day, and to the beautiful gradient of the sunset.

Yet nothing could ever compare to the colors of the night.

The black of his hair reminded Viktor of the night sky, his pale white skin a large contrast like the moon and the sparkle in his eyes was reminiscent to the stars. His irises as brown as the ground at night, his blue shirt like the waters after the sun set.

"Viktor."

Yet, despite having the different shades of the evening, Yuuri was actually far from the cool and peaceful tones. His very presence was like the gold on both of their fingers and the morning sky, his voice as lively as the colors of the day. And his touch, Viktor noted with finality in his mind as their hands connected, was warm as the red and orange in the sunset sky, yet cool and relaxing like the violets and blues forming as the evening comes.

Hasetsu may have had all these colors in their glory, yet Viktor may never call it home.

For his heart was with the man who could paint his life in the different shades and hues of the day.

Claws

Viktor always thought of himself as a dog person, both in pet choices and at heart. He was insistent for attention, filled with vigorous energy and could never stay still. Sometimes, people would actually tell him there were no differences between him and Makkachin, the latter even thought to be more behaved. And he loved dogs, preferred them over other animals. They were sweet, loving, incredibly loyal and enthusiastic. There was not a day that could be the same as other days whenever Makkachin was with him, and the spontaneity of having a dog fed his own needs for surprise, and even helped him in achieving the audience's need for those surprises when he was in the rink.

He never really thought of having a cat. Cats were cute, yet they were the exact opposite of dogs. They only come for attention when they crave for it, and most of the day they would be asleep. Some would say cats suit Viktor's tastes, especially with the way he dances on the ice, smooth, steady, stealthy, and would always leap in to action and surprise everyone. But that was it, the mysterious persona he had was only in the rink. Outside, he was a dog who finally broke on a leash, capturing the attention of the people by his energy and charisma.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was definitely a cat person, despite preferring dogs like Viktor did. He was quiet, reserved, and did not do much whenever he was not on the rink. His voice was timid and low, smooth enough to know that he was not one for that much attention. He did things on his own, and actually liked staying in the same place as long as he liked, just using his phone and looking at the photos of his friends.

And just like a cat, his actions depended on how he felt. The mood swings were one of the challenges of being Yuuri's coach, so Viktor always looked out for it; it would change in the most surprising of times.

And today was no different.

Earlier, Yuuri was incredibly caught up in practicing and was conscious of every mistake he did. At every fall he had, he would look embarrassed, yet still sturdily determined. Viktor knew better than to break the mood; once it was ruined, Yuuri would be unable to practice properly until he got his head together.

But given the spontaneity of his character, Viktor did not expect that at the moment he took off his shirt to change in the locker room after the day's practice, Yuuri's mood had shifted a full one-eighty degree. The younger man was behind him, yet he could feel the stare burning on his back, from his shoulder blades to the muscles of his torso. He turned to look at Yuuri, but the other immediately faced away, opting to fix the things in his bag. But Viktor was sure, oh yes he was, because the blush was starting to form on those lovely pale cheeks, and the other's voice sounded lower than usual when he said he was going to get a shower before heading to the shower room.

And Viktor, being a loyal, ever enthusiastic dog person, followed him without hesitation.

Oh, Yuuri was definitely a cat. A sly one when he wanted to be. The moment the door closed behind them and they were finally in privacy, Yuuri went straight for him, immediately slipping his hands under Viktor's shirt, taking it off, body pressed up against the other, mouth leaving a searing, hot kiss on his lips before moving to nip and suck the older man's neck. He marked him with bruises, the same way a cat would rub against one's leg to mark its territory. Viktor was his, and his only, and he engraved that in the different purple and red he managed to decorate the skin with before the Russian pushed him off to get rid of the annoying clothes that were still on their bodies, pulled him to the last cubicle and backed the younger man up the wall inside with a hard kiss.

The shower was turned on, just so no one would clearly hear their voices in case someone came in. Yuuri's legs were lifted up to Viktor's hips and Viktor tried so hard not to increase the intensity of the bite he delivered to Yuuri's neck when the younger purred in pleasure at his teeth. He felt Yuuri's fingers digging into the skin of his back, the pressure of the nails supposedly alarming Viktor, but he could not care less at that point.

As they went on, their bodies moved from pressing to humping to grinding, and purrs and growls turned into groans and moans only barely muted by the shower. Yuuri's legs were hooked securely around Viktor's waist and his nails embedded on the taller man's shoulder blades. The feeling of those claws threatening to break Viktor as they moved against his skin only made the Russian's spine tingle in excitement, and he moaned loudly as their arousals continued to rub against each other.

The heat that engulfed them increased, their minds clouded almost entirely by pleasure. And then Yuuri came, fingers pressed so hard that the skin finally broke as the nails clawed down, leaving bleeding red lines. The voice of Viktor's beloved as he moaned and the lovely pain that erupted in his back was just too much that Viktor followed a second after, back arching as he joined Yuuri's voice with a moan of his own.

They were still for a moment, waiting for the high of their climax to wear off. And when it did, Viktor carefully lowered both of them to the floor with Yuuri sitting on his lap and his wounded back away from the flow of the water. He was only vaguely aware that the younger was nuzzling into his neck as they both panted, Yuuri and the front of Viktor's body soaked with warmth.

"…I could fall asleep right here." Yuuri muttered after their hearts finally calmed down, relaxing even more with the water falling steadily on his back.

Viktor chuckled, his hand petting the wet black strands, "It's not really comfortable here, besides the water's going to be cold." He kissed Yuuri after he saw him looking at his bloodstained nails in shock, trying his best to ignore the stinging pain in his back, "My little kitten."

Anguish

"Let's end this."

The words rang as Viktor sat up on the bed, feet swinging and planting on the floor and his elbows resting on his knees. On his face was a blank expression, devoid of any emotion, the exact opposite of what he was feeling inside.

He could not sleep. How could he, when Yuuri broke his heart into tiny little pieces, tinier than the broken glass parts of Yuuri's heart when it shattered back in the parking lot. How could he sleep when Yuuri watched him cry with a stony look and a toneless voice. Even if they decided that they would make up their minds after the competition, that there was still a chance that everything could be better, he still could not sleep. His chest pounded in anxiety, eyes red and tired from crying, body too lethargic to move except to lift one hand to feel the ring on his finger.

The cold metal was searing on his skin. Viktor stared at nothing, trying to convince himself that the promise they made back in the airport after the Rostelecom Cup was real, that Yuuri wanted to be with him until he retired, that he was not going to retire, that Yuuri knew how happy Viktor was back then.

His chest tightened, his breath hitching up and eyes burning, threatening show his anguish again. Viktor could not remember the last time he felt like this, when he felt like world stopped turning just to mock him and his emotions. Mocked, yes, he was mocked. He clenched his teeth as he felt anger grow inside of him, filling up the emptiness.

How dare Yuuri mock his feelings like that. How dare he make a fool out of Viktor, giving him hope then planned to toss him out once everything ended. Was it because Yuuri was guilty of pulling Viktor out of the rink? Was it because of the rest of the world pressuring him with the fact that it was him who "forced" Viktor to be his coach?

But Yuuri already knew how Viktor felt about him, right? The rings signified that. The ring that Viktor slipped on Yuuri's finger sealed his feelings along with his hopes. It sealed his hopes on their promise back in the airport. So how could Yuuri do that? Did he expect that he could go on skating like he used to after what he just did? Did he expect Viktor to just move on after everything they have been through because he thought Viktor was better off without him? Did he even think, for one second, if Viktor would just accept the thought of Yuuri retiring after months of training with him, after seeing him bloom into one of the most beautiful and skilled skaters, after letting him know how much, how much Yuuri had changed him, his life, his future, and thought Viktor could just go back to competing? Was he that self-centered to not even consider Viktor's feelings in the matter? How selfish could he get? How could he-

"Fuck." He exhaled as he forced himself to stop thinking when he realized tears were already streaming down his face. He swallowed the lump his throat and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

Temptation then started to crawl up at the pain that felt like it was too much to handle. It was like venom climbing up the red of his anger. His mouth started to water and the need of having alcohol numb his tongue and burn his throat washed through him. He wanted to cloud his system from the emotions, he wanted to convince himself that Yuuri did not mean the words he spoke earlier, convince himself that Yuuri still wanted him to be his coach after the finals, that he wanted what they had now to remain for as long as they could manage.

So he got up, but before he could stop himself, he turned to look at Yuuri, who was bundled up in sheets, his form showing steady movement and telling Viktor he was fast asleep. He almost questioned how Yuuri was able to sleep after their conversation earlier, then remembering the next day was the last event, the day that would determine if Yuuri would be able to catch up from his disappointing score in the short program. If Yuuri was good enough for the gold that both of them were training for.

The gold that Viktor had won for five years in a row, and Yuuri was still dreaming to get. The gold that would convince Yuuri that he was good enough to have Viktor as his coach, and prove to the world that he did not waste Viktor's time nor threw away his legacy.

Yuuri did know Viktor's feelings for him, but he also knew how heavy the sacrifice Viktor had gone through in being his coach. Yuuri must have felt that, must have thought how it would be like to have Viktor as a competitor. He probably had, especially when everyone else in the competition thought the same. Viktor was everyone's target; he was the mark that all other skaters wanted to hit, to beat. He was their goal. He was Yuuri's goal.

He was the man who surprised everyone, who kept on surpassing all expectations. He was the man that the crowd cheered on every time he landed a successful quad, the one who entranced the audience whenever he simply glided across the ice. He was the man who would look at the ice and imagine all the different choreographies possible to express one's self and hypnotize everyone else.

And Yuuri must have seen the last man. He must have seen how Viktor looked at other skaters, imagining how it would have been if he also competed. How Viktor looked when wondered what it felt like breaking his own record, whenever he would remember the times Yuuri did in this season.

He did miss the ice. He missed competing against others. He missed proving others wrong when they thought they found someone who did better than he did. He missed the cheers, the adrenaline rush, the relief after performing his programs without any problems. Viktor wanted to go back.

But he wanted to go back to that world with Yuuri. He wanted to train with Yuuri, to dance with him. He wanted to see him improve, he wanted to be entranced and surprised by what he could do. And he could not do that if Yuuri was going to be his competitor. Yuuri must have also realized that. He knew how Viktor's feelings for him would hold the Russian back from being the best everyone expected him to be. And they both knew if Viktor stayed as his coach, longing would turn into resentment, and resentment would lead to something far worse.

It was clear why Yuuri would rather retire than watch Viktor long for the ice and the cheers. He wanted to see Viktor at his best, and being his coach pulled him away from it.

Viktor realized it was his own dilemma to face. It was either Yuuri or his love for the ice. He wanted both, but he couldn't, could he? He wanted to see Yuuri in his beauty on the ice, but he also wanted to be on the ice.

Was his choices limited to being with Yuuri or being his competitor?

Viktor frowned, fist clenched and took deep breaths. It was late, and it was not going to do them good one of them did not get enough sleep tomorrow, or showed up hangover. This was not the time to be thinking of himself. Yuuri needed him until the end, and Viktor was going to be there for him, no matter what.

He climbed back to bed, forcing himself to focus on the competition tomorrow. Hopefully things would turn out better, for both him and Yuuri.

N/A: Gonna update this whenever I can. Or if I do remember. Rate and Review? Love you.