This is one of those extremely hard to write-chapters. I've been editing it for over a week, trying desperately to make it worthy of Victor and Yuuri. I hope you'll feel that I've made them justice.

Thank you for reading and (hopefully) commenting. xoxo


It was unbelievable, the way he declared it. Like he was testing him, his attention, his presence, his devotion to him and his life. Surely, it was a joke, deciding it just a few days before. Indifferently like, over dinner. Like it would take away the edge.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me."

"I… I think I did. But why? Why now?"

"I just decided that I don't want to, that's all."

The glass, now empty, made a low sound against the table. He tried not to let that simmering annoyance shine through, tried to refrain it from bubbling up to the surface as he swallowed the water. He knew that he would lose the fight immediately, miss out on getting any answers.

Victor?

He exhaled. The question sounded sharp, he realised that, but it just came out that way. The moment of surprise was greater than his self-control. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because."

He got a look, one that was very unlike him. One that somehow declared that they were done talking about it. Or at least, that he was done talking about it. The way he stood up and took his plate without so much as a glance in his direction, leaving him alone at the table, was evidence enough.

"Is it because of what happened at the Grand Prix Final?"

Victor?

A scoff was heard from the kitchen before the faucet started to run, filling up the sink with water.

"Then what?" It was strange to him how important it was, hearing an explanation. He tried to remember if he'd ever been that demanding, seeking answers and reasons instead of just accepting, but he came to the conclusion that not doing things never was an option before. Not to them. They'd always pressed on, eyes forward, following their hearts and now… yes, it was different. There were doubts in their lives now, and those doubts reigned supreme.

He decided to follow him, his own plate in one hand and empty drinking glass in the other, feeling disgustingly unsatisfied. 'Because'? What does that even mean? No, he needed to know. He needed to know if this change, this strange new behaviour, was a result of the events that had taken place or if it was because of him. Maybe it was all the same? It probably was.

"Leave them there, I'll do them tonight." Bubbles filling up the sink, dishes being put in. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He pulled at a black strand of hair, feeling at a loss for things to say. Hoping to get something, anything, out of him.

Hey, Victor?

"Don't pull my hair."

"Then you better answer me first."

The silence was pressing, almost ear deafening when the water stopped running. But the atmosphere was different than just seconds ago. It felt gentle. Airy. Undemanding.

Arms suddenly surprised him by reaching around his neck, hands being still and fingers laced together.

"Why do you think?"

He shook his head, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Loving the peace offering of hands around him, a body being close to his, eyes meeting each other. "I've stopped figuring you out. You're too much for me. That's what I think."

"You're silly."

"Now, that's avoiding the subject. We were talking about you."'

"Okay, okay. It's just that I… well, I decided that I want to do something else."

"Something else? Something else than skating?"

"Yes. Something I love. Something that feels important."

"Honestly, love. What can be more important than your career? Than you showing them that you're the top skater in Japan right now? It's Nationals, for god's sake."

Wake up, Victor.

He opened his eyes, dumbfounded. Being tired made him see double, making it difficult for him to focus. He wasn't really sure if was awake or not. The sensation was ambiguous, muddled by voices saying things he remembered but also things previously undisclosed. When he finally blinked away the sleep, his eyes found something familiar, something that made him relax. Brown eyes, mere centimetres away from his face, smiled contently at him. The best view in the world.

"Good morning, Victor. Happy birthday."


The lips that woke his, made them come alive after the little death that a deep sleep really is, tasted of strawberries. Initially sweet when lips tentatively touched each other, nibbling carefully and bidding good morning, but gaining a tartness that matched the urgency when tongues finally began their claim.

Victor's heart began to beat harder, relishing the hands around his face, the weight on top of him, the taste and feel of Yuuri in his mouth. The surge brought on by rushing blood, crashing in like waves upon waves.

Before Yuuri came into his life, his birthdays had been nothing like this. For years, his birthday was synonymous with skating, empty smiles, impersonal hotels and sleeping alone. An existence without the warmth and the purpose, the warmth and the purpose he'd been chasing for as long as he could possibly remember. And two years ago, it all changed. It finally changed.

Two years ago was the first time he'd spent it with him. With the person who, just days before, had graced him with something round and golden. Something that demanded a promise from him, one he was glad to offer without thinking twice. Because at that moment, he felt complete and ready.

And now, that person who had graced him with, or awoken rather, the two things he'd sworn to never surrender was on top of him, around him, inside him. Making him feel not only life and love, but also very much alive.

"Viㅡ" Yuuri's words were interrupted by their meeting, his voice still humming in his throat.

"Mm?" Making a sound that sounded very much like a question, Victor tried to stifle a smile as his tongue skimmed against Yuuri's. He had no intention of letting him go. For all he cared, they could spend all day in bed together, feeling nothing but skin against skin. He'd be perfectly fine with that arrangement, but the way Yuuri tried to speak made him understand that he had plans. Other plans, probably just as good.

With some playful struggle, he let him go. Just barely, just enough to let him part from his lips. "You were saying?"

"I made you breakfast, it's going to get ruined ifㅡ"

"If I don't love you enough? Tsk, come here, you!" He locked his legs behind Yuuri's back with a laugh and put a hand on Yuuri's head.

Yuuri started to squeal as soon as Victor playfully munched on the side on his neck, tickling him with his tongue.

"So tasty! You're making it hard for me, can't I enjoy my breakfast in peace?"

"Victor, stop! I can't breathe! It tickles," Yuuri screamed between gasps.

"You told me to eat!"

"N-not me! Stop, I'm going to hurt you!" Yuuri tried to thrash out of hims grip, laughing hysterically.

The noise of something falling down, hitting the floor, interrupted them. Made them stop their impromptu love match for a couple of seconds. They looked like deer caught in headlights, eyes widened and surprised. Like little boys being reprimanded for doing something not entirely thought through. And like little boys, they reacted accordingly, albeit differently from each other with one of them laughing some more and the other taking responsibility.

"No, I'm sorry! I must have kicked it!" Yuuri scrambled to get out of bed.

"It doesn't matter, love! Just leave it, we'll clean later!"

"But Iㅡ"

"Yuuri, it's fine! It's perfectly fine!" Victor paused as he saw Makkachin trot through the doorway into the bedroom. "What's on the floor? Did it break?"

"No, it didn't and it's yoghurt. I-I can clean it up, I just have toㅡ"

"Leave it to Makka, we'll clean later. Okay?"

"But I… Fine, but I didn't… Oh, I should go and get another bowl, though?"

Victor huffed when he saw Yuuri's face. He looked like yoghurt on the floor was an augury of the end of the world. Victor loved that about him, how the smallest thing being out of place or unplanned could set him off, making him even more unsettled. Making him try even harder. It meant that it was important to him, his birthday, and that was the greatest affirmation Victor could ever get.

Victor sensed a small shiver down his spine, one of conflicting origins. There was someone who cared about him being born, being alive, and trying really hard to make him see that too. Not because of his achievements, his way of shaking people with movement alone, but because of respect and love. How excruciatingly bittersweet. He understood Yuuri's reaction, though. The nervousness, the regrets and self-blame. Who wouldn't under the circumstances, having planned the birthday of a significant other and said plans immediately backfire? Especially when there was a possibility that it could be the veryㅡ

No! None of that today. Today, tomorrow doesn't exist, for none of us. Victor sat up and scooted over to Yuuri, placing a hand on his thigh. He wanted normal. Yearned for it to be his glass slipper and the day his ball, until midnight.

Before he spoke, he made sure to shrug it off. That wet and heavy cloak made out of what-ifs, please-don'ts and not-nows, an incredible burden on a day like this. "No need," he sighed. "Share what's left with me."

With a nod and a small smile, Yuuri reached over to the tray, now shoved close to the edge of the bed and teetering precariously. He picked it up and put it closer to them, closer to the centre of the bed.

"What do you want first?"

Victor looked at the contents placed on the tray. Gratitude, adoration and humility fought with sadness within him for some reason. Fought with a prickling sense of panic and some longing, too.

"I, uh…" Who knows how many more… No! Not today. Stay here, stay here with him!

"Don't… don't you like it?"

"Honey, I…" With him. "I… I love it. I absolutely love it. I'm just… thankful, I guess. You getting up early, making this. For me."

He felt Yuuri's hand on his, fingers softly caressing the back of his hand before being braided together with his.

"No matter how you look at it," Yuuri began with a voice that, at least to Victor, sounded like he was mirroring him completely, tapping in, being tossed between everything and not enough, "a person turns thirty only once. Why not make it count, no ma-matter… no matter what?"

Blinking away what was threatening to escape, Victor leaned in and kissed Yuuri's cheek, feeling his sigh against his own.

"I'm glad you made that decision," he said simply. "I'm glad you skipped Nationals."

Yuuri smiled. It was one of those smiles Victor knew was put on to make him appear like so much more than he actually was. Like he was okay, not sentimental, without a care the world. Nothing could be further from the truth. With eyes latched onto his and a tone of voice saying so much more than it actually did with words, he spoke. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Can you feed me like you did in Japan?"

Yuuri's hand found his cheek immediately. And Victor's mouth found his.


"Victor?" Yuuri's voice was barely audible over the running water, cascading down the both of them.

"Mhm?"

"Soon, I'll be able to do this to you too."

Victor laughed at the statement, not understanding what he meant. He was standing close, shampooing Yuuri's hair. Purposefully massaging up a lather before he pushed his head back, gently into the stream.

"I don't know if you've thought about it," Yuuri continued, "but it shows now."

"What shows, love?" He raked his fingers through Yuuri's hair, rinsing out the shampoo.

"You're getting your hair back."

He stopped, stopped running his hands through the wet blackness that was Yuuri's. Quickly after, brown eyes were on his, eyes suddenly asking for forgiveness.

"Don't," he said, trying to keep his voice mellow. For he had noticed, noticed the silver tinted shadow on his head getting longer, more pronounced. But like so many other things attributed to himself now, he tried hard not to hope. Tried hard not to get excited. Eventually, although no one knew how long it would take, his excitement and joy wouldn't matter. Pointing things out would only make it worse, it would acknowledge things he was bound to lose a second time.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispered, putting his head against Victor's chest. "It's just that I…" He suddenly laughed, interrupting himself.

"You what, love?" Victor's arms overlapped themselves around Yuuri's back. Trying not to think, trying to forget.

"I… can't wait to hold on to it. When we, um, you know?"

That debilitating jolt of electricity, the wonderful torrent following in its wake. Victor felt his body react immediately, heart beating faster, his breathing picking up. That inflexible, firm feeling of desire flaring up, answering to Yuuri's seemingly intentional beck and call.

He had to bury his face in the groove of Yuuri's shoulder, collect himself in order to function. But it was hard, he was hard and it felt nothing less than amazing. He wanted so much now, he realised. Things he knew were there, and if he asked, he most certainly would receive. A perfect diversion, something that could make him not think so much, make him forget.

With a voice barely contained, borderlining a moan rather than spoken words, he answered. "Oh-hoh, really now?"

His hands slid down Yuuri's back, slick and wet, before they ended up at the sway. The waxing and waning curves, made for tracing, holding on to.

"Yuuri?" He pressed him against himself. He got a noise out of him, soft like a sough. "I wantㅡ"

"You will. You will. But… not now. Okay?"

"When?" He picked at Yuuri's lips with his own. Wanting to get lost, found, used, respected. Needing him to be the catalyst to what was inside of him, pleading to get out.

Yuuri stepped back, pushing his hair out of his eyes. With a smile, he reached for the bottle of bodywash. "Turn around."

"When?"

He turned around, accompanied by the sound of bodywash being squirted out of the bottle. He put his hands against the tiled wall, feeling the need of keeping them against something steady in order to keep them to himself.

Yuuri's hands on him were warm. Purposeful. Gentle. Starting their travels on his shoulders, venturing down along his back, his sides. Massaging bodywash into his skin. His body cried, relishing the touch. A longing after things that once were, that somehow seemed to rekindle in that moment.

"I… I love touching you." How empowering it was to hear. Yuuri's voice, calm and steady. Filled with that adoration from when they were new, when everything was simpler. The one that Victor on occasion, had wondered existed still.

He needed that reminder. Although Yuuri's touch was all he ever sought, the only thing that could make him surrender his worries, he wanted yet another affirmation. He wanted to hear him say the words that could make the last sliver of doubt disappear.

"Even now?" He breathed the question and put his weight on his hands. Counted the seconds until the answer came, quivering inside.

"Yes. Especially now."

An exhale. To shed tension perhaps? To build the anticipation of something more? Or, to just stay in the moment, to completely luxuriate in the understanding that it was the way it was, once.

Yuuri's hands travelled further, along parts of him now unrecognisable, down his legs. He held his breath, spreading his legs further apart. Seeking, needing, wanting. And his body roared.

"When, Yuuri?"

He gasped. It wasn't unintentional, the way a hand touched the inside of his thigh, tentatively feeling grooves and folds made by skin. It was with purpose, a rapturous ambition.

He whined his response. "Now?"

"Yes. Now."

An arm found its way around his hip, resting quietly. A hand held his torture, tightening its grip. A mouth met his shoulder, teeth sinking in.

Motion, a dance between them both. Finding the steps to reach the crescendo.

"Mmmhh… and you, what about you?"

"Shh."

"Ahh… I feel you, you want, haaah… it too, can't Iㅡ"

"No. This is all about you. Take it! I want you to!"

"Can't I at least see your, ngh… yo-your face? Love, please! Let me see, let me, letㅡ"

Mouths and eyes met, staying open, answering the plea. Wanting to take it in, take it all in. Even though the quaking made it hard, close to impossible, they saw each other. Stayed with each other. Held on to each other until ripples became smooth, until breaths became calm and the world became completely still.

Suddenly, feeling hope and excitement wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all.


"Let's walk along the river," Victor proposed, tightening his muffler around his neck. "Okay with you?"

"Sure! Where to? The park by the cathedral? We can let Makka go off the leash?"

"Sounds like an excellent plan."

They got out of the lift and exited their building with Makkachin in tow, heading down to the Fontanka riverside.

"It's always so windy here," Yuuri exclaimed, fighting with the zipper of his parka.

"It is. It's like Hasetsu."

"Only colder. And darker. And a whole lot snowier."

"True." Victor huffed a little. "So… Yuuri?"

"Mhm?"

"About today. I know that you said 'no presents' but I still feel like I want to give you something. And I'mㅡ"

"I don't want anything. I don't need… or, what I need is to be with you today. Also, birthdays will always trump Christmas."

"Oh, you." Victor found Yuuri's hand and braided their fingers together. "I must have been really kind in my previous life to end up with you, huh?"

"Or amazing in this one?"

"Your words, not mine!" He winked at Yuuri before he guided his gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"You seem happy today," Yuuri said, gathering up Makkachin's leash.

"Why shouldn't I be? Breakfast in bed, action in the shower, a walk with my two favorite boys. It just keeps getting better."

"Victor?" Yuuri pulled at his arm to make him stop. "I will try, okay?"

"Hm?"

"I really want to try for you. I want you toㅡ"

"You are. You are, love." He leaned in and pulled down Yuuri's muffler a bit, placing a kiss on his lips. "I have a feeling you'll continue to surprise me. Come, go left here."

They walked along the river, blending in with the people who dared to battle the wind by venturing outside. Victor glanced at Yuuri, feeling a warmth spreading inside despite the wind. It pushed further and further through his veins by a quickened pulse, taking him over. Yuuri wanted to do more, wanted to try more. Hearing him say that cemented something within Victor, something that already had a shaky foundation. The sense of normality.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a middle-aged woman, leading two children by the hand. As soon as she had passed them, she called out with a hesitant voice.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Victor Nikiforov?"

A second gives a person plenty of time to think. How to react, what to say. If there's room for honesty, if privacy should be prioritised. If there's even a point in doing anything at all. Ironically, Victor faced one of his worst fears on his thirtieth birthday, holding Yuuri's hand. But he felt his hand being squeezed, the gesture acting as a lot more than what it seemingly was to anyone else than to him.

"The skater?" He said it with a laugh, one that felt strangely sincere, as he turned around.

"Yes! Or… no, or yes, yes, the skater!"

He let go of Yuuri's hand and extended his own. The words that tumbled out of him were honest and true, although no one could possibly know that except for the person whose hand just got left. "You recognised me! Impressive!"

She laughed a nervous laugh. She sounded starstruck, like a girl seeing her fantasy come to life. "How can anyone forget that smile, those blue eyes? You can try to cover them up all you like in warm clothes but I'd recognise you anyway!"

They shook hands. The children, a boy and a girl, hid behind the woman even though she tried to coax them to step up and do the same.

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, children. We'll never see a man like him in the sport ever again, believe me."

"It's okay," he laughed to the children's defense. "Not everyone cares about skating."

"I… I'm sorry, but I felt so sad hearing about you retiring. But I understand that athletes can be like dragonflies, like shooting stars. You have your moment, just briefly, and thenㅡ"

"It's gone," he interrupted her.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that! Or, the moment may be gone but you're transcending. Your legacy will be remembered forever. Also, looking at him looking at you," she nodded in Yuuri's direction, "I have a feeling that you're special even when you're not skating. It's not like us ordinary folk. I mean, what will people remember of me, my life and my achievements? I'm nothing but a cashier!" She shook her head, excusing herself. "But here I am, rambling and taking up your time. You must have other things to do, surely?"

"I might," he smiled, "but they can wait just a second longer."

She giggled as her hand reached for her pocket.

"Yuuri? Would you mind?" He looked to his side and found himself caught by brown eyes, smiling. Cheering him on. Telling him that they knew. That he was trying too.

"I would love to."

-xoxo-

They reached the park surrounding St. Isaak's Cathedral. Yuuri let Makkachin off the leash, and the poodle darted off immediately with a cloud of snow billowing behind him.

"Look at him go!"

"He loves when we're out together. We need to do that more," Victor said, his eyes following the brown tornado.

"Hey, Victor? Back there, that woman?"

"Yeah?"

"What did she say?"

"She was a fan, apparently. She was sad about me retiring."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And… well, somehow, she thinks that I'll live forever. Imagine that."

Victor felt Yuuri's hand around his waist, his hand ending up in his coat pocket in a loose embrace. Of course, Yuuri didn't answer. Victor didn't expect him to, there wasn't much to add to the statement. But he met him, acknowledged him by standing by him and that was more than enough. Even though the they sounded unintentionally harsh, final in some way, Victor realised that the random words from a random stranger were strangely comforting.

"Also," he added after a moment's contemplation, "she said that you were looking at me in a way that made her think I'm special. Even when I'm not skating." Victor chuckled and answered to Yuuri's touch by putting his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Together, they watched Makkachin as he plowed through heaps and piles of snow.

"He's got a lot of life in him, despite his age," Victor said almost to himself.

"Yes, he does. He's been well taken care of."

"His daddy is too. Come here."

They stood face to face, studying each other. Watched as the other's breath became smoke, disappearing into thin air. How eyelashes were coated by a thin layer of ice, defrosted with every blink only freeze anew. How lips were wetted by tongues in preparation of what was to come.

"Yuuri?" Victor whispered as he removed Yuuri's glasses, leaning just a little more.

"Y-yes?"

"Photo or video?"

"What?" He huffed in amusement at the question.

"You heard me, photo or video?"

"What for?" Yuuri peered at Victor, made a little shrug just to say that it didn't matter, him understanding the purpose of Victor's request, and answered. "Video?"

"Great choice." Victor reached down in his pocket and took out his mobile phone. "Can you make out with me for a minute?"

"A minute? That's specific."

"Yes or no?"

"Don't be an idiot."

"Okay, just tell me when so I can start thㅡ"

Victor managed to press record just by chance, overwhelmed by fingers digging into clothes, eyes being open and mouths building bridges in between.


A slow walk home, through the drifting snow. A long nap, being entwined, around and on top. A dinner being prepared, made together and eaten from each other's plates. Suddenly, it was early evening with darkness blanketing St. Petersburg.

They were in the sofa, tired and sated by not only food. Like so many nights previously gone by, Victor had Yuuri's back leaned against his chest and in between his legs.

Victor looked down at Yuuri, or at least tried to. His head was distorting the view, but the low sound from the phone made Victor smile. He knew very well what he was doing. And why. Even so, he asked.

"Are you seriously going to watch it again?" He ruffled the top of Yuuri's head with his face and inhaled his scent. "You can transfer it to your own phone, you know."

"I will," Yuuri said. "We look so happy here."

"It's because we are. Right?"

He felt Yuuri's hand caress his shin, found its way underneath the leg of his trousers.

Before Yuuri managed to answer, they were interrupted by the chime of a mobile phone. Yuuri's, that ringtone was hard to miss, even harder to ignore.

Yuuri leaned over to the coffee table to reach his phone, spent a second looking at the screen.

"It's mom," Yuuri said. "Facetime."

He swiped to answer.

"Hi mom! Merry Christmas."

"Hi honey. Merry Christmas! I'm not bothering you, I hope? How are you? How's Victor?"

"We're fine. Just waiting for the skating to start soon. Hey, oh wait, um, Victor," Yuuri said, stumbling between the languages, "want to say something?"

"Of course I do!" He tried his best to peer over Yuuri's shoulder and gave the phone a small wave. "Hi Hiroko! Merry Christmas!"

"Happy birthday, Vicchan! Yuuri, tell Victor that we're sorry that we couldn't be with him for his birthday, but we're so happy that we got the chance to see him earlier this month."

"Don't worry," Victor replied after hearing Yuuri's translation. "I have this Katsuki with me, and he's just as good as the rest of you. Maybe even a little bit better." He planted a loud and theatrical kiss on Yuuri's cheek before pointing to the beanie he wore, his birthday present. "I love it! It did great outside in the cold today."

Hiroko laughed, sounding delighted before she spoke anew. "Yuuri? Are you two doing okay? Really? I worry, you know."

"Mom, it's fine! It's Victor's birthday today so I kind of want to… "

"I understand. Oh, papa and Mari say happy birthday and merry Christmas too."

"Thanks. I'll tell Victor."

"We… we're going to call you two more often now."

"Yes. I understand. And that's… that's good."

"So… Have a lovely evening, you two. I'm thinking about you."

"Thank you, mom."

"Are we hanging up already?"

"Yeah, she doesn't want to keep us."

"Oh, in that case; Take care Hiroko! From Russia with love! Bye-bye!" He blew a kiss towards the phone.

"Bye-bye! Oh, and Yuuri?"

"Yes?"

"Take care of each other. And… we're here, just a phone call away. Okay?"

"I-I know, mom. It's fine. We're fine. And we will." Yuuri's hand left Victor's leg and found his face instead. "Talk to you soon. Bye, mom."

"Bye Yuuri. Bye Victor."

Yuuri hung up, and sat looking at the screen.

Victor put his hand over Yuuri's, Yuuri's touch digging into his cheek. "How nice of her to call," he said simply.

"Mhm."

"So…" Victor began, wondering if it was time. He decided that it was. "Yuuri?"

"Yes?"

"They came."

He felt Yuuri tense up against him, the hand against his cheek growing rigid. How his breathing came to a stop, or became extremely shallow. They had waited for this ever since they went together; fingers clutching, hearts beating in their throats, panic threatening to overflow. But they had went, together. To the first judgement, only to see where their lives would go from there. To the first post-treatment check up.

"And?" Yuuri's voice was derived of emotion. It was impossible for Victor to judge if there was something behind it, maybe just underneath the surface.

He brought Yuuri's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Turn around. Face me."

"Tell me."

"It's my birthday."

The comment made Yuuri turn around in one smooth move. Maybe it was the tone of voice, the words Victor deliberately had chosen, the torturous anticipation, but nevertheless, he turned around. Brown eyes were focused now, Victor noticed, focused on blue without even blinking. Reading into the small snippets of information they had at their disposal.

"It'sㅡ"

"ㅡnot back. It's not back, love. Not yet."

The reactions were calm. A deep exhale, arms around his body, a head placed on top of his chest. But they grew in intensity, with quickened breaths, fingers digging in, a mouth on his. Actions speaking louder than words, actions conveying relief, gratitude and a flicker of annoyance.

"How long have you…" Yuuri breathed in between. In between the tastes, of lips wanting to feel, of lips wanting to savor the moment, of lips pressing infinite prayers against their kin.

"A couple of days."

"And you waited to tell me this?"

"I wanted to surprise you. Good news is worth the wait." He smiled. "So, about not wanting any presents? It's silly, but… Merry Christmas, Yuuri. Sorry."

"I love you. You hear me?" Yuuri pressed his forehead against Victor's, hands enveloping his face. Yuuri's breath felt like a tickle, the sensation so apt.

"I do. Nothing's ever been clearer."

-xoxo-

They settled on watching the Russian Nationals. It felt strange to them sitting together at home, curled up against each other with cups of something hot resting in their hands. Silently watching it all from the outside. But how strange it felt, it also felt new. New in a pleasant way.

Nationals had always been the most stressful time of the year, with the both of them being forced apart if they wanted to defend or challenge the right to the title. Being alone was hard, trying to get in the zone, not having the other for support was even harder. Yuuri had always been the one drawing the shorter stick due to Victor's double commitments as a competitor and coach, and now, it was nothing like that. It was just the two of them, enjoying each other's company for the first time during the intensity Nationals meant to any skater.

"Isn't it strange," Yuuri mused, "how Japan and Russia's Nationals are arranged at the same time? It's always on the same weekend. Or almost, anyway."

"You know, I've never thought about it before. Not before I met you. You have, I take it?"

"I have."

"Huh."

They watched in silence. Saw how the men's short program from the day before had singled out the ones now competing in the free skate. Saw how new and promising talents kept pouring in from below, proving themselves to be the future of Russia's figure skating scene.

"Yurio's had a good season," Victor said, resting his chin in his hand as he saw the blond leave the kiss and cry, "but he's thinking too much tonight. Doubt that score will hold up."

"Hm. He'll be disgusting to deal with next week if he doesn't make it to the podium." Yuuri brought his cup of tea to his mouth and took a sip, leaning his head on Victor's shoulder. "We all do, by the way. Think too much."

Victor kissed his hair, wondering if Yuuri's words were an invite or not. Wondering where they would take him. "Oh? What do you think about?"

"A lot of things." Yuuri shifted against Victor and sat up. He put his cup on the coffee table, reaching for Victor's a second after.

"What's this," Victor huffed in amusement as he let go of his cup, feeling Yuuri's hands return shortly afterwards to hold on to his.

"I… I don't know. It's… something I've wanted to do for a long time but I haven't really been able to until recently. Until now, I guess."

"You're making me intrigued. What are you trying to say, Yuuri Katsuki?"

"I'll try to tell you but I need you to just listen, okay. Quietly listen." He squeezed Victor's hands a little before taking a breath. A deep breath.

"I will, love. Promise."

"Good. Um… remember when we went to Japan in the summer?"

"I do."

"Remember how we told my family of us? Of our marriage?"

"Now you're just teasing me, of course I do! Yuuri, what do you want to say?"

"Sorry. It's just… I told them a whole lot more than I told you that night and I kind of wanted to do something about that. I mean, we decided to marry on a whim, I wasn't prepared. If I was, I would have planned this from the start, when we stood there. When we did it."

Victor felt a pulse. It wasn't the same, not even similar to the one he'd felt that morning. It had another value. It was warm, comfortable, soothing. Not at all coloured by the yearning, that childish need he'd felt, having Yuuri naked against himself. No, it was love. That unconditional, unending love you feel for someone you've chosen. When mind, body and soul manage to make a decision together and are jubilant about it.

"So," Yuuri continued, "I've wanted to tell you this. Ever since we married, ever since our summer spent in Japan, ever since… today. Because over this period of time, I've started to understand what you mean to me and I… Well, I want you to know this. I need you to."

Victor put one hand against Yuuri's cheek, the pulse was continuing to lull him. Made him feel like he was important. "Oh, love. I think Iㅡ"

Yuuri gave Victor a brief look, playfully stern, before he looked at their hands. It was as if he'd heard Victor's quiet plea, because he found his eyes and stayed there. "I told you to be quiet, Victor. I need to say this, without you interrupting me."

"I'll be quiet. I promise."

"Good. You see, Victor… The first time I saw you was on TV, you'd won Junior Worlds. You were sixteen, I was twelve. I remember that day so well, because, that's when I fell in love with you. I didn't know what it was at the time, how could I possibly being nothing but a boy, but now I know that it was love. A love that only grew, fed by my need to meet you. See you. Stand on the same ice as you.

"I… I was like a small, insignificant rock and you were the sun. I wanted to get close to you somehow, so I filled my room with posters of you. Posters I ripped down when you came to Hasetsu the first time, with you outside my door. I've told you this already, but it still doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Anyway, I… I named my dog, my toy poodle, after you. Victor. Vicchan, what mom calls you.

"I decided to meet you, one way or the other and I somehow managed to get to the Grand Prix Final through years of training. Instead of loving every second of it, I worried. Worried about not doing good, worried about looking like a fool. More importantly though, I… I worried about meeting you! I worried what you would say to me, if you would say anything at all! And of course, I couldn't do anything else than publicly shame myself.

"I'm not talking about just the skating. Do you remember? When we met afterwards? You were walking with Yurio and somehow, our eyes met and you asked me if I wanted a commemorative photo? I wanted… I wanted so much more but I just felt so embarrassed. It was like you thought I was a fan rather than competition, you know? Like I was as invisible as I felt."

The only sound that was heard for a while was the Russian commentator on TV, who spoke tirelessly and with enthusiasm despite a young skater's nasty fall.

Victor felt guilty. Slightly ashamed. Out of words after listening to Yuuri's confession. It dawned on him that he'd seen him there, after the competition, but he didn't really see him until the banquet that followed. Then, he'd taken up his world. Then, he was the one that had acted like the sun.

Without knowing what else to say, he apologised. "Yuuri… I didn't know you felt that way. I'm sorry." He sighed as he looked into a pair of brown eyes, eyes that had a hard time being on his. "But you know what? I knew you, or knew of you, even before we met at the Grand Prix Final."

Yuuri's eyes widened his expression full of disbelief, his endearing faulty self-esteem shining through.

"It's true, love," Victor continued, "because I saw me in you when you skated back then. The way you moved, your expression. I knew that you were inspired by me and that was flattering, to say the least."

"You… you knew? You knew that I existed? Even before that video going viral?"

"Oh, very much so."

"Oh… I… I didn't know that."

"We keep surprising each other today, it seems," Victor cheerily remarked with a smile, caressing the back of Yuuri's hand.

"I guess… Also, Victor? When you became my coach, I kind of… well, I wanted you to be mine. Only mine. I wanted you to never look at anyone else. I wanted you to be as filled by me as I was with you. That I was everything to you in a way I knew you were to me."

"It happened, love."

"Uh-huh. It did. It really did. And I want it to continue. I… I just want to be with you and I hope that I'm allowed to. I want to be yours, remain yours. I-I just… I just don't know what to say. You are everything to me and I swear I'll try! I'll try to be the same to you!" Yuuri let Victor's hands go, nervously wringing his own. But his eyes were steady, lingering on blue eyes full of emotion. "Victor, I love you. I know that I have a lot to prove but… I kind of… I want to do something for you tonight. Something you'll remember."

-xoxo-

"So," Yuuri started, his voice sounding a bit hesitating, "I was thinking, or, I was going to ask you if there's something you'd like… to do?"

With fingers tensing up, almost seeking to grip the cushions of the sofa, Victor inhaled sharply. It was a lovely proposition. Fantastic, even. He realised he felt like a boy. Like a little boy who'd been dreaming of getting access to things far beyond his reach and now, they were there before him. Offered, as if on a silver platter. Ripe and ready for the taking.

In fact, the things he wanted to do were many, almost uncountable. He knew that if he would ask for something, he'd get it. Especially now, especially with Yuuri being the one taking the first step. Yuuri was like that, a giver. Pliant in bed, often handing over the responsibilities of making decisions. Yuuri was a person who rarely asked and often offered, but Victor loved that about him. The infinite games they've played to find out what Yuuri liked, what turned him on, was a favorite pastime of his.

He saw an array of images before his inner eye, all of the things he could ask for. Positions, games, restrictions… he felt his pulse pick up within seconds. But although how tantalising, how mouth-wetting it was to take total control, he decided to give it away. He wanted to offer it back to the person who wanted him to take it.

"What I'd like to do?" Victor propped himself up on his elbows, his heart beating hard in his chest, almost travelling upwards into his throat. "What if… what if I ask you the same thing? What would you like to do? To me?"

The reaction was wonderful. How Yuuri's cheeks became a little more flushed, how his eyes started to travel, how he shifted a little in his seat. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat with a soft cough. "What… what I'd like to do? Um… Won't that be borㅡ"

"No! No, not at all. I would love it. All of it!"

Yuuri silently removed his glasses and reached for the hem of his sweater, pulling it off in one smooth motion and pushed it off the sofa. His thermal undershirt exposed some of him before it fell back into place, much to Victor's dismay.

"If I'd like to, say, undress you, that would be okay?"

"How cute," Victor laughed. "You're allowed to do whatever and that's what you come up with?"

Yuuri frowned. Victor found it impossible to make out if it was a reaction to what he just had said or if Yuuri got lost in one specific thought, but he hoped it was the latter. He wondered if he'd spoiled the mood, and reached out to touch that small crease between Yuuri's eyebrows. He thought to himself that smoothing it out would maybe make a difference, make his insecurity disappear.

"Yuuri, Iㅡ"

"Let's go. Let's go to the bedroom."

Victor quivered. Due to the words, the sincere tone that delivered them. The promise they left inside him. But at the same time, he wasn't sure. Unable to understand if it was a proposition made to best him, or if it was one that had bearing.

"I was just kidding, Yuuri," he started, secretly wishing for that shaking sensation inside to continue, but realising all the same that it could be forced to stop at any second. Without him wanting it. Carrying that understanding, he groveled. "I didn't meanㅡ"

Yuuri got to his feet and gave Victor a look. A look that tore him down, a look that said more than words ever could. A look that created a sound within Victor, making every fibre of him hum. Finding Yuuri's frequency.

When Yuuri held out his hand, Victor accepted it without a word. The both of them walked silently to the bedroom, but inside, they reverberated in unison.

-xoxo-

Like so many times before, it started out with a kiss. But that was where the similarities stopped. The kiss was new, of a different value. It was a kiss too chaste, too short, too bewildering to lead anywhere. It just got left there, without an explanation as to why it felt the way it did. Like a flutter, a single lone dab, made to confuse. At least in theory.

For Victor relished the new, the different, the unexplored. They had never been able to faze him, not in the context he found himself in now, not in any. Instead of wondering, worrying, he relished the anticipation, feeling that hum grow stronger inside, hearing that lovers' rush in his ears. It was asking him, no, begging him to relinquish himself, to offer himself to be taken in his hands.

He had hands around his neck, clasped together tight behind his head. Dark eyes seeming even darker in the unlit bedroom. Dark eyes looking into his, reading and evaluating. He had never been able to fully figure them out, the eyes and their owner, even less so during moments like this. When he went against who he was, surprised him with yet another unseen part of that elaborate tapestry that was him. That was Yuuri.

The ruffling sound of their clothes rubbing together when hands found other places to rest upon was booming in Victor's ears. Like a stampede, charging, tearing everything with it. It seemed like that opinion was shared, as hands skimmed along the bared skin at the nape of his neck, along and over his shoulders until they stopped at the hollow between his collarbones. Fingers did what hands couldn't, displayed him even more. Wanting to rid them of the sound, the intrusion to their otherwise silent moment.

Fingers did just that, undid button after button of his shirt until they had to do something else. So, they touched him, leaving behind trails. Smoldering trails that burned his skin.

Victor left the mystery behind the dark eyes for a moment, tilted his head down and saw how the fingertips felt, felt, felt. Maybe they were memorising what it was like, what it entailed to touch him. He realised that he had to look. He needed to remember that too.

Hands and fingers disappeared from his chest and caressed the shirt off his shoulders, off his back. It stayed on him though, the shirt, with his hands still through the cuffs and his arms still in the sleeves. He was thinking of helping. He wanted to escape the feel of fabric, seek another sensation altogether, and started to reach for the buttons of the cuffs.

"Leave them alone."

Lips played against his chest, whispering words that made his insides react. 'Why', Victor wanted to ask, 'What do you want to do?', but he said nothing. Kept his promise of leaving himself in his hands.

"I love you. Everything about you," the lips continued, titillatingly petting his skin. "Always have, always will."

Victor swallowed, taking back the sigh, the moan, that was on the verge of escaping him. Back into his depths it fell, only to erupt again when the cool, slickness of a most inventive tongue drew patterns, made exquisite art on the canvas that was him. He was breathed on, nibbled on, even bit by benevolent teeth. But when he was devoured, slowly suckled by lips that destroyed what a tongue playfully tried to mend, he disgorged a groan. A groan that was him, his essence. A groan that spoke his truth, how guttural and throaty it sounded through his gritted teeth.

"I… I just can't get enough of you." Those lips that spoke had travelled without Victor noticing it, when he was lost in the torrents of heady gratification. They were further down, speaking against the belt of his trousers with teeth assisting.

Reflexively, he brought a hand up. Just the one. The other, caught behind his back by his shirt. His hand moved with devotion, it was summoned, told to find dark strands of hair and hold on to them. And he did hold on when he felt a tug around his waist, his belt being undone with the help of teeth and nothing more.

"You," he panted, "can undress me anytime you like. Oh, Yuuri… That's justㅡ"

"Shh," was the answer he got from below. "Quiet."

Hands undid another button. Undid his fly before they vanished again, suddenly fondling his ass. Victor's fingers dug in, clutched tufts of black hair as he leaned his head back, trying desperately to breathe with an open mouth, silently begging to endure a little bit longer. Ironically, his body acted on its own accord and made him flex at the hip, repeatedly wanting the opposite of his mind whilst trying to coerce what he had in his hand to move closer. Wanting contact, intimacy, friction. But he got none of that.

His trousers were stroked off of him, suddenly pooling at his feet. The hands weren't done, they continued their excursion, leaving no patch of skin unseen, untouched or or unloved. When they started to travel upwards, along his shins, over his knees, on the inside of his thighs, he had to break the vow of silence.

"If you won't fucking blow me, at least put your tongue inside my mou-nghh..." Victor's voice died out as the electricity claimed him, originating from a touch between his legs going back to front.

"Not sure if I want to, that mouth sounds dirty." It was but a whisper, followed by a low laugh. Liberating the both of them in ways undone before.

Scorching fingertips touched his chest, gently pushing him a few steps backwards until he felt the edge of the bed dig in at the back of his knees.

He got his wish. A mouth hungry for his, a tongue colliding with his, a body causing friction against his. It was messy. Intense. Insatiable. Two beings needing exactly the same but one was bound to give, the other to receive. Tables turned, roles switched, a world of breathless contradictions.

As they parted, when twisting tongues and swollen lips decided on an intermission, he was left with an imploration.

"Fall for me."

With a gentle push Victor did, knowing he would never stop.

-xoxo-

The fall seemed like it lasted for an eternity. Like he fell from somewhere else. Somewhere farther, higher up. Victor knew it was impossible, he knew, but the seconds were suspended in time, allowing him to see that face, study it thoroughly, before he came to a sudden stop.

It was him. It was his love, his purpose doing this to him. Rendering him defenseless, useless, wanting more. The same person who usually was pliant, unassertive, begging him to take the lead. But there he was, his Yuuri, still fully clothed and yet, he'd brought him to the edge so easily.

The need to reach out to touch him echoed inside, telling Victor to do, do, do. Do something, anything, at least claim him as his own. But his arms were restricted by his shirt, the one he now had his weight on behind his back, making him unable to do, do, do.

He saw Yuuri come closer, crawl on all fours. Instead of stopping, interacting, paying him any notice, he leaned over to the bedside table on Victor's side and turned on the light.

It was him, looking gorgeous in the dim light. It really was him, but who was he? The person Victor knew with that appearance preferred having the lights out, wasn't dominating, wasn't exhibitionsitic. He was new, new to them both but someone worth getting to know. He was different. Unexplored. Made for relishing.

"Stay where you are. Don't move."

He could only watch as Yuuri started to undress, starting with the undershirt, then the jeans. The way his body moved… It was made for making music, muscles contracting, flexing, moving underneath that thin layer of skin. A corporeal symphony, playing just for him.

There was no air left for Victor to breathe. Yuuri's hands were invisible, hidden by the fabric of his underwear, but there were no doubts what was playing out. Right in front of him, but still in hiding.

Yuuri was touching himself. He was somewhere else now with eyes closed and lower lip in between his teeth. Somewhere where he was building himself up. Trying to catch that wave, trying to bring himself closer. Trying to match, tap in.

"Yuuri," he whined, trying to overcome the aching throb in his chest and between his legs. "Show me. You're killing me!"

He felt pierced by his eyes. They flung open, stuck on his within the second. Yuuri's expression looked like he was judging him silently, like he'd been forced to stop pleasuring himself by his words.

Without a word, Yuuri leaned over again, opening the drawer in the bedside table.

An instant rush, a flash of uncontrollable need. Like an electrical shock taking him over, making him short circuit. He knew what it meant. The gesture, the drawer. The things being reached for.

"You… " Victor began, breathlessly. "You want me toㅡ"

"No. But I'm going to fuck you."

With those words came an ethereal dream. One that was new, different, unexplored. One where Victor felt like a voyeur, watching something that wasn't for him. Watching somebody unknown, a stranger undoing him without even a single touch.

With arms and hands restricted, he couldn't do anything than reach Yuuri's thighs with his fingertips, building that illusion of him not being there, not partaking in the music being created.

Yuuri fought, acting as a lone conductor. Building himself, finding the right state of mind, the relaxation, the trust in himself. Doing it on his own, not inviting Victor to join him.

"Now, now, I just…" Yuuri's quivering whisper was drowned by the noise his touch evoked, by the incredible sound the wave made as it came to crash over them both.

It was happening, the new, the different, the unexplored, making Victor cry out as he was set free, violently and with an urgency that made seams protest by making noise. Yuuri took him in his hand, in his mouth, in his hand, finally inviting him on the journey he previously had taken alone. The constraint, the cool, the slick, and finally, the enveloping tightness followed as Yuuri started to move, got lost in a rhythm Victor wanted to follow.

"I want to touch you," Victor moaned, his fingers trying to reach, fingernails scraping against Yuuri's skin.

"Y-you are. Just move, mo-ahhn…"

They were in-tune, heading towards the inevitable crescendo. Although they created music, followed a rhythm, nothing was heard other than strained breaths and the low and dull sound of flesh colliding with flesh. A requiem if there ever was one.

That still contained explosion was pressing, building in Victor's abdomen, threatening to detonate. Victor was there, ready. Standing on the ledge, waiting for the final push, the ne plus ultra that would engulf him and let him come alive, reborn through the flames of his rapture. "Yuu… I-I'm getting… I'm close, anytime, Iㅡ"

"Haah… more, little, just… Vi… Vi-Vityaahh!"

Even though the music subsided, softly and slowly, they ended up listening to a beat. The beat of two hearts slowing down, coming together, finding a new pulse to follow.

-xoxo-

"Yuuri? Are you awake?" Victor mouthed the words, almost inaudibly into Yuuri's hair.

"Mhm… " It was a delayed response, slow and languid.

Victor put his arm around Yuuri's waist, pulled him closer against himself. "Good. First of all, thank you. Thank you for today, love."

"No need to thank me. It's your birthday, and birthdaysㅡ"

"ㅡtrump Christmas, I know." He paused. Wondering if he needed to pose the question, wondering if an answer would mean anything, any kind of difference. "Who… who were you today? Hm?"

"Who… Who I was? I don't know. I… I guess I wanted to surprise you. Offer you something you won't forget and… I guess that was me. Someone I don't really know, just yet."

"You know what? I would love to get to know you more. That side of you too, that was… that was hot, okay? I still can't believe that just happened."

Yuuri laughed. It sounded like he shared Victor's take on their evening. That something special had taken place between them, made by them, just for them.

For a while, they just breathed. Listened to slow inhales, slower exhales and even slower heartbeats.

"You know… Victor?"

"Mmm?"

"I've… I've been thinking. A lot. About a lot of things."

"Mhm...?" Victor was coming down, ever so slowly. Visiting the borderlands of being awake and drifting off, and really wanting Yuuri to do the same.

"Yeah. About what… what has happened and what will, I guess. And I've decided on something, or… no, not decided, I wanted to see what you…" He sighed. A long, slow sigh, before he continued, carrying something in his voice. Something new. Something different. Something unexplored. "I just wanted to see what you would think about, um… me choosing toㅡ"

"Love, is this something that we can talk about in the morning?"

"No. It's… it's not. You see, I… I want… I want to keep your things, Victor. And I would like to keep Makka. Afterwards."

Victor listened to the words. Felt them inside him as he tried to understand. It grew, the understanding. That the ball had ended, the slipper was lost. But not only that, he understood something else, too. That it was time. That he could, finally, and… that it was okay.

He turned away, left the warmth against his chest and rolled over to his back instead. It's okay? It's okay? It is. I can. But I don't want

He put his arm over his face, feeling himself tense up. Feeling that small speck inside him, the one that had been patiently waiting, to take him by the throat, feed on him and grow stronger. Bigger. It wasn't okay, it wasn't okay at all. But it happened.

It sounded like a hiccup, the way the tension seeped out from within him. He tried to fight it, tried not to make it awkward for the both of them, but tears burned, pooled, escaped.

"Victor? What do you think?"

He sniffed, feeling Yuuri turning around next to him.

He whimpered, feeling Yuuri's hand on his shoulder.

When he felt Yuuri, on top, around and against himself, his arms tightening around him, his kisses on the arm covering his face, he let go. Let go of his ambitions of carrying them, let go of his obsession of being strong, let go of chasing normal. His voice was something he didn't recognise. Something new, something different, something unexplored.

He wailed, feeling Yuuri catch him as he fell.