Yuuri woke up alone, the space next to him cool against his hand. Victor must've woken up a while ago then.

He blearily opened his eyes, tired after the practice last night. Despite it still being off season, Victor had been working him extra hard this week so that he could present his best for his upcoming ice show.

His hand slapped the nightstand a couple times before he found his glasses. He put them on while sliding out of bed. He walked past a bunch of posters of Victor on his way out of the room.

Wait. He walked past what?! A bunch of posters of Victor?! They weren't up last night when he went to bed; they've been shoved under his bed for about a year now. What had happened?

Yuuri started panicking. The posters were positioned exactly the same as they were before Victor had arrived to coach him. What in the world was going on? Did he dream up the whole year as some escapism fantasy after embarrassing himself in front of the while world? While he didn't think so, sometimes, it felt like his life nowadays was too good to be true.

He started to hyperventilate before he could reach for his cell phone to check the date. Despite knowing that things like time travel didn't actually happen in real life, he couldn't stop heaving in air at a rapid pace.

He slid down to the floor, still gasping for air, and curled up, hugging his knees closer to himself. Black spots started appearing in his vision, but he still felt too disoriented to do anything about it.

The door slammed open. Victor barged in.

"Happy April Fools, Yuuri! I had to ask Mari for reference, but-

"Oh no, what's the matter lyubimyj? Are you okay?" Victor kneeled down and started rubbing his back. "Breathe with me solnyshka. Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out 1, 2, 3, 4. That's it sladkij, you're doing great."

Yuuri started to calm down, reassured with Victor by his side, whispering endearments in his ear. His breathing slowly evened out to something resembling normal, even if it was interspersed with a few stuttering breaths when he tried to stop his sobs of relief. Once he quieted and finished calming down, Victor asked, "What happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

"You'll think I was being stupid," Yuuri replied back, looking away from Victor in embarrassment. "No, never," Victor reassured him.

While he was still ashamed of his illogical lapse in sanity, Yuuri was strengthened by Victor's reassurances that he shared what had happened. "The posters made me think that this past year - you coaching me, us getting engaged, redeeming myself at the Grand Prix - was just all a dream, that nothing had actually changed. That I imagined you up in my despair because there's no way I could be that happy in reality…"

"Oh no, Yuuri, I'm so sorry. That's not stupid at all," Victor apologized, eyes shining with unshed tears. He embraced Yuuri, mumbling into his shoulder, "Sometimes, it feels like a dream to me too… that I could be this happy, that I have someone like you by my side.

"I was just hoping for a laugh reminiscing about your fanboy days. You know that I'm your biggest fan now, so I thought it'd be nostalgic and amusing, looking back to all these posters you have of me. I didn't mean to-" Victor's eyes started to water even more, with a few stray tears tracing a path down his face.

"It's okay, Vitya. I know. If I wasn't being dumb, I probably would've been entertained too," Yuuri cut off Victor's apology while returning his hug, squeezing his fiancé firmly in reassurance.

"It's fine. We have each other now, and that's all that matters."

They stayed curled up together on the floor, silently basking in each other's presence, until Yuuri's mom called them for lunch.


A/N: What did I just write? I wanted something funny and fluffy, dang it. It's not only a sad smoopy thing, it's terribly written; I didn't even bother proofing it properly because I didn't want to read it again. Welp, it's out of my hands now.

Russian nicknames are all from asking Google, since I might as well keep that fanon tradition alive.