Written late at night. I wanted to try these 5+1 prompts, but this is the only thing I could think of. Also, my prose is trash, so beware. This is all candy and fluff, prose and no dialogue, et cetera.
As for warnings, there are none. Additionally, I'm not going to mention the innocent gay love because if you're against homosexuality, I reserve the right to question your media choices and judge you harshly.
If that's all, enjoy!
There must have been a time when he wasn't in love with Viktor. There must have been, he's sure, but he can't remember. Maybe, he doesn't want to remember.
It must have been a long, long time ago. He can remember being in love, but not falling in love. At least, not all at once.
I.
He can remember facing Yuko, sitting on a bench, watching the television screen dancing in her chestnut eyes. He can remember her awed expression, her mouth parted and her eyes wide, her hands clenched close to her heart.
That's love, he thought to himself.
No, he didn't fall in love with him then, he fell in love with Yuko's infatuation with him.
II.
He can remember the black mesh and Spandex and silver lining. He can remember Victor's ice blue eyes glittering in the rink lights. He remembers not being able to understand Russian, but falling in love with the sound of the words and the way they felt in his ears, crawling down his spine like a lover's touch.
III.
His eyes traced down the sharp lines of his idol's toned body, up and down the ridges and valleys of muscle, hesitating at highlighted peaks and hiding in shadowed dips. He tilted his head at the way the water seemed to love him in all forms: liquid or solid.
He felt his face heat up, so sure that half the steam in the onsen is from his own feverish skin.
IV.
Those eyes. Those eyes. He's seen them so many times now, up close in person and from his bedroom floor, looking shamefully up at posters. Yuuri is surprised, and he's not surprised at that fact, since Victor himself is so surprising.
This time, Victor's eyes are alight, shining like the ocean on a clear winter day, glowing with… with… something fierce.
How is Yuuri supposed to not fall in love?
V.
He's never been in love before. Yet, here comes Victor, creeping up behind him and kicking his bedroom door down, criticizing him when he messes up, but still making him feel worth something.
He's never fallen in love, not ever, not once, not before Victor. That must be why he fell in love with him.
VI.
Victor has known what love is since the banquet. Love has a hideous blue tie around his head and smells like champagne and Christophe. But, even when drunk and only in his boxers, he has this innocence, this wide-eyed, blushing innocence that he's sure he could recognize anywhere.
But that's not why he fell in love.
He fell in love to fall in love over and over again. No matter what, Yuuri kept on surprising him, and every time he did, Victor found himself falling all over again.