i was yours before i knew (and you have always been mine too)
by: tg
summary: "Vkusno! Yuuri, this is the best thing I've ever eaten!"
"You should try my mother's katsudon," Yuuri says off-handedly, and then turns fire engine red at the implication.
"Yuuri!"
warnings: none
an: this is a viktuuri flower shop universe alteration / au wherein they never meet at the banquet in sochi. viktor is still out looking for his inspiration, and yuuri has gone back home to help out rather than continue with the costly life of a figure skater. they still manage to cross paths, because of course they do.
this was done for the yurionicebigbang event on tumblr in tandem with my artist partner rynyn! this fic is very important to me so pls consider taking a few moments to review!
originally posted august 2017
ii. spring
i want to do to you what the spring does to the cherry trees. - pablo neruda
Yuuri's life is a series of befores and afters and a lot of them, much to Yuuri's chagrin, revolve around Russia's Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov.
He gets into ballet and ice skating on his own, without the help of Viktor's graceful and ever-present influence on the skating world. Before ballet, before ice skating, there's just — radio silence. He can't remember a time before Minako-sensei's stern expressions and proud smiles, can't remember a time without the chill of the rink air against his skin or the bruises blossoming on his skin like flowers from fall after fall, mistake after mistake.
He loves it – truly and irrevocably. The feeling he gets being on the ice or in the ballet studio is something akin to the peace birds must feel while flying.
But it's Viktor — Viktor's presence on-screen and in-magazine, Viktor's heart-shaped smiles and flowing platinum hair, Viktor's graceful arms and strong, lithe body — that's really the start of Yuuri's love affair with the ice. When Yuuko first sits him down in front of the mobile television at the rink and babbles about a new up-and-coming skater from Russia, Yuuri doesn't think much of it. But then he sees Viktor, and everything changes.
Viktor is — light. He's pure radiant light , the embodiment of grace and beauty and elegance in a way Yuuri has never seen before. He is the perfect confluence of soft, flowing lines and precise movements, of serene smiles and sweat-soaked hair. He's a born and bred champion, made for the limelight and the podium and the glossy magazine articles that Yuuko shows him later with the sound of the Russian national anthem playing in the background.
Viktor is everything Yuuri never knew he wanted, but oh does he want . There's so much opportunity and promise in him; Yuuri looks at Viktor and for a fleeting moment he can see his own future and he burns with the possibility of it.
Viktor gets a poodle and Yuuri does too, a sweet little thing he names Vicchan. He's always been a child of anxiety but with Vicchan next to him he feels lighter, freer, happier. Vicchan is someone he can love unconditionally and without reservation, someone who is there for him when he gets anxious or starts to doubt himself and his skating. Someone who won't judge him, who won't care that he's imperfect and makes mistakes. Vicchan is a life-changer.
When Yuuri goes to Detroit, it's kind of embarrassing to admit that it's at least partly because of his desire to be closer to Viktor. Finding a coach for himself who can take him farther in the senior division is difficult and moving to a new country with minimal language skills is even more so, but he wants to know how far he can go.
(One day Yuuri finds himself looking in the mirror while he brushes his teeth, with Phichit singing into his hairbrush handle in the background, and he realizes something.
Viktor had stoked the fire in him for competitive skating, but he's the one who's gotten himself to this point. And that's a revelation – that he can win on his own merit, that he can want the podium outside of wanting to share it to Viktor.)
Turns out, Yuuri can go to All-Japan and he can win, which is — just – mind-blowing; incredible; terrifying.
Then he goes to the Grand Prix Final and it's just – over.
Yuuri finally gets the chance to share the same ice as Viktor and he can't even manage to run a clean program. He can meet him in the hallway and still be completely invisible, completely beneath notice, and he can't even blame Viktor for not knowing who he is because why should he know?Why should he know ?
(Even as a little boy he held an ocean of feeling inside him; as an adult the persistent waters of his anxiety have pocked and gouged at his sense of worth until there's nothing but scars and giant canyons left in its wake. He can't help but think Vicchan, who'd had such unshakable confidence in him, would be disappointed if he'd been around to see what Yuuri's done to himself.)
Adrift, he goes back to Hasetsu after a failed All-Japan and Vicchan doesn't greet him at the door, and his skates sit in the bottom of his closet collecting dust until next season. He gives it one more go and ends up watching the season go by in the dining area of his parents' inn and that's — that's it.
That's it .
(Until Viktor Nikiforov comes into his life and sweeps him off his feet.
And then it's the start of another before-and-after with the universe centered around that heart-shaped smile.)
Yuuri thinks that maybe he's made a mistake, because Viktor can't seem to stop saying his name now that he's learned it.
"Yuuri! Hello!"
"Yuuri! Did you like the cupcakes I brought yesterday, Yuuri? Weren't they good? Yuuri, I'll have to get you the recipe from Tendou-san next time I see her —"
"The change of the seasons is so beautiful here, Yuuri! Can we go cherry blossom viewing next month?"
"Are there any dog parks near here, Yuuri? I think Makkachin would really enjoy meeting other dogs."
Yuuri often finds himself withering under the affronted stares of his patrons whenever Viktor is in the vicinity, because people around here aren't accustomed to freely using given names and Viktor is most definitely abusing the present Yuuri had given him. It's embarrassing. It's anxiety-inducing, and attention-grabbing, and nerve-wracking, and Yuuri sort of wants to sink into the ground every time it happens. But it's also kind of sweet.
(It's sweet because when Viktor says Yuuri's name he does so with such reverence, and his voice goes soft and sweet and slow, like he wants to make sure that he's careful to pronounce it the correct way even though he's known a Yuri for years and Japanese is still awkward on his tongue.
It's sweet because just the formation of Yuuri's name changes the composition of his handsome face — his smile turns smaller and truer, and his eyes fill with a light that's missing from the posters Yuuri has taped to his walls at home, and his shoulders lose what little subtle tension they'd held before Viktor's eyes alight on Yuuri's.
It's sweet because Viktor says it like he wants to say it, like the gift of Yuuri's name is one of his most prized and most treasured even though he could probably buy himself a private island and barely make a dent in his sponsorship money.)
Viktor still makes him nervous. Viktor feels unpredictable, but he's not – unknowable, now. He's not untouchable, unreachable. He's not the same ethereal being Yuuri has spent his life watching on screens and looking for in magazines. There's a saying that goes like this: never meet your heroes, lest they have feet of clay. He doesn't know about that; all he knows is that Viktor isn't what he thought he'd be, and the notion that Yuuri gets to discover him one tidbit at a time is anxiety-inducing but also exciting.
(He realizes in the middle of a heated discussion of preferred breakfasts – Viktor is pro-breakfast, because he is an actual disaster in the kitchen but is apparently decent at this one meal; Yuuri is indifferent but utterly amused at all the arm-flailing – that the feeling buzzing in his chest when he hears Viktor say his name is happiness , and what a novelty that is.)
"Yuuri, it's been so long! I was starting to think you forgot about me!"
Phichit's voice is sweet and familiar filling up the small space of Yuuri's room at the Inn. He immediately feels awful though when he realizes it really has been forever; they haven't done more than exchange text messages since Yuuri had called him to congratulate him on his Grand Prix debut performance.
Except for the night Viktor showed up.
(Except for the night Yuuri called him, hysterical and babbling and convinced that he'd dreamed it all up because there's no way Viktor was there, in Hasetsu, after weeks of social media silence and rumors of retirement and injury.
Phichit had spent most of that conversation either listening to Yuuri's panicking or helping him breathe through it. Not exactly the best conversation they've shared but certainly one of the more memorable.)
"I know, I'm sorry," he says, frowning. Before he can start to spiral into guilt-fueled anxiety Phichit waves him off.
"Never mind that. Tell me, how is aunti e Hiroko and uncle Toshiya? How's Mari? How are you?"
"They're – I'm – Everyone's okay."
"Just okay? Not charmed? Enamored? Smitten? Besotted? Captivated? In lov – "
"Stop, stop!
"The beauty of having lived with you is that I can picture the exact shade of red you're probably turning right now."
"Why are you like this when you know I'm trying to panic."
"Don't even pretend that you don't love me," Phichit says voice smug. "So, what has Viktor done now? Did he give you another bouquet from your own shop? Or wait, a bouquet from a different shop? How scandalous!"
"He just – keeps bringing me breakfast?"
"What a cad ."
"And he won't stop pestering me about hanami."
On the other end of the line Phichit grins – Yuuri can hear it. "And that's a problem, why?"
"Huh. Good point."
Japan comes alive in the spring.
It's Yuuri's favorite time of year. There's just something about the way the pastel pinks and pearly whites of the sakura flowers bloom up so leisurely and gradually, turning the world from cold and grey and into something sweet-smelling and hopeful. He loves watching the way the petals open up over the days and the weeks, loves watching the way people around him open up, too. Something about the wistful and fleeting beauty of it.
Viktor pesters him about flower viewing for a few more weeks while Yuuri pretends that he's not interested. It's kind of fun having Viktor on the hook like that, but ever since Phichit planted that matter-of-fact 'so what' in his brain Yuuri knows he can only play at resistance for so long before he has to relent to Viktor's practiced puppy eyes. He comes into the shop one day with his silly, wide forehead and heart-shaped smile and Yuuri knows what he's going to ask, because he's talking about it for the last two weeks, hinted at it with all the subtlety of a freight train –
So Yuuri beats him to the punch.
Or rather, Yuuko does.
"Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon and evening off, Yuuri?" she says from somewhere behind him, making Yuuri jump and probably look like an idiot in front of Viktor as his mouth snaps back shut. He turns and gives her a hard look, but she's known him for so long that she's become immune. "I'm sure Yuuri would love to show you around, and I know I'd love to not hear you ask again."
Viktor flushes, a pretty pink sitting on the apples of his cheeks, and looks at him all hopeful and pleading, and Yuuri can't say no.
(Not that he'd been planning to, anyway. He'd probably give Viktor almost anything he asked for, which is kind of embarrassing.)
He sighs, and takes off his apron and folds it, and tries not to blush or shrink into himself at Yuuko's sly look and Viktor's triumphant cheer.
Viktor's excitement is palpable as they exit the flower shop, and once Yuuri gets them going in the direction of the castle there's no stopping Viktor's long legs and carefree smile as he tugs them across the bridge.
The bloom of pink is not something that can be hidden, so Yuuri knows that Viktor has seen all of this before, has probably been watching the petals unfurl for the last week. He doesn't understand Viktor's energetic excitement until the fingers curled around his wrist shift and gentle. Viktor doesn't let him go, and they're not quite holding hands, but the meaning is clear.
It's hard to believe. Maybe he doesn't want to see it with him specifically. Maybe he just wanted a native of Hasetsu, to show him the best hanami spots and explain the different kinds of food available. Maybe anyone would've done, and he just happened to be there.
(Yuuri's anxiety is an insidious thing, slipping into his thoughts and sowing seeds of doubt into them until they take root and flourish.)
But –
He'd been pestering Yuuri for ages about going, but he could've gone at any point on his own. Viktor was here for weeks before he ran into Yuuri – or rather, before Makkachin ran into Yuuri. It's evident that Viktor can communicate with people well enough to get his needs across. That can only mean that –
Viktor wants to see this with him .
Yuuri lets out a breath, a small exhalation of feeling. He doesn't realize he's stopped walking until he feels Viktor tugging gently on his arm. He looks up to see clear blue eyes marred with concern.
"Yuuri?"
Viktor wants to see this with him.
"I'm – I'm fine," he says. Viktor's eyes are still on him, so he takes a bracing breath and gets his feet back under him, so to speak. "Do you, ah, maybe want to get some food while we're here? Hanami is hanami without some dango."
Viktor gives him a look of such warmth, and the bitter hands of anxiety fade into the middle distance. The smile that steals over his handsome face is nothing short of a miracle.
In the end Viktor buys them enough dango to feed an army, as well as some sakura mocha and hanami cookies. Their hands are so full that they have to find a place to settle down so they can eat. Viktor pops the sakura mocha into his mouth first, and after a few seconds he scrunches up his nose at it. Yuuri laughs and copies him.
"It's the texture," Viktor says by way of explanation as soon as he's done.
The hanami cookies have a better reception, with their combination of sweet granulated sugars and salty pickled blossom decorations, but it's the dango that wins the day. Viktor pops the first little ball into his mouth, chews, and looks at Yuuri with wide eyes full of wonder.
"Vkusno! Yuuri, this is the best thing I've ever eaten!"
"You should try my mother's katsudon," Yuuri says off-handedly, and then turns fire engine red at the implication.
"Yuuri!"
After they finish their mountain of food Viktor stretches out, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the canopy of pink fluttering above their heads. He looks so peaceful, so content in that moment, so beautiful and real that Yuuri can't help but reach out and brush their fingers together to make sure it's not a dream.
(It's not – it's definitely not.)
To his relief Viktor doesn't latch on or turn to look at him – honestly Yuuri would probably die if he did, his face feels red enough to burst into flames at any moment. Instead he just curls his pinky around Yuuri's and smiles up at the sky, and god, that's a look Yuuri's never seen on him before. None of the posters or magazines have done him justice.
"Ahh, I ate so much I don't know if I can move now," Viktor says softly. Yuuri makes a quiet noise of agreement.
So they don't.
Instead, they stay and watch the sunset filter through the flowers, bright pinks and oranges giving way to the softer colors of dusk as the sun sinks down into the ocean.
(There's something in Japanese folklore, or maybe folk religion, something ancient and storied, about the sakura tree. It used to be that people believed each one was a god to be loved and celebrated. They would pray to them, ask them for bountiful harvests or healthy lives.
Yuuri used to ask for talent, but now when he looks inward he finds all he wants to ask for is Viktor – Viktor's time, Viktor's attention, Viktor's close and warm presence.)
(It doesn't occur to him that Viktor may be quietly, patiently asking for the same thing.)
Evidently a Viktor Nikiforov with too much time on his hands is well, a handful .
Yuuri's seen the way Viktor refuses to look at Ice Castle Hasetsu, so he doesn't think Viktor's been skating at all the whole time he's been here. Even if he has, he hasn't competed in Russian Nationals, Europeans, or World's, and now it's the off-season.
(Yuuri is so curious, but he knows what it feels like to keep secrets, and Viktor doesn't owe him a thing.)
Viktor's always been a creative force to be reckoned with, so without choreography and training as a funnel, he's apparently been trying things out. Yuuri knows this because one day he flounces into the shop with a shoddily made handcrafted…something. Yuuri thinks maybe at one point it was supposed to be a cup because of the way Viktor's holding it, but he can't really be sure. The thing is lopsided, and the rim of it is a bit…deflated…in some places, making it look like a deformed flower. There's a handle on the side of it, but it's so thin that it looks ready to snap rather than support the weight of the cup. All of that is wrapped up neatly in a neon-colored, sloppily painted package.
"Yuuri!" Viktor greets. He's beaming, his natural sunny disposition shining through. Yuuri smiles back kind of helplessly. "I made something for you!"
"O-oh, for me?" Yuuri stammers out. He can hear Yuuko snickering in the back room and resolutely ignores her.
"Who else would it be for?" Viktor says and then winks. Winks ! Yuuri has spent an inordinate amount of time with this man since mid-January, and while he's gotten used to some of Viktor's antics and grandiosity, the flirtation is still enough to get him flustered.
And he's been doing a lot more of that since the flower viewing.
(Both the flirting and the flustering.)
"It's, ah, very… Um. Nice. What – what is it?"
"A tea cup!" Viktor's pinky flies up and he grins. "Not that you can actually use it."
Yuuri brings his hand up to his mouth to smother a snort. "Yeah it's kind of…lopsided."
"Yakov is always telling me to work more on my technicals," Viktor says with a grand sigh, as if it explained everything.
"So you… Made a useless tea cup?"
Viktor just winks – again.
(Yuuko waits til Viktor flounces back out and then folds her body over on her desk and laughs until she cries.)
The week after Viktor saunters in with something that might be a sake cup, this time decorated with streaked-through blue lines that might be a snowflake or a spider web, Yuuri can't be sure. At least the cup is relatively stable, though not quite symmetrical.
Then it's a plate that's more oval than circular and decorated with little slightly off-color blips connected by a line that Yuuri thinks are meant to represent dango, and then a saucer to go with the first tea cup, and then a rudimentary bowl. As time goes by, Viktor's little projects get better, the construction more sound.
And then one day in early May he brings in something that's actually sort of (really) beautiful.
It's a vase.
It's cylindrical, asymmetrical, ridged in some places, and smooth beneath Yuuri's fingertips except for little flaws here and there that catch at his skin. It's been painted and glazed on the inside as well as the outside, so Yuuri knows it was made to be used. It reminds Yuuri of the kind of pottery that the area is well known for, and he wonders if that's why Viktor made it, if Viktor's been taking classes.
"This is really good, Viktor. You've improved so much."
"Are you saying my other stuff is bad?"
"That's pretty much the gist of it," he says without actually thinking. Once he realizes what he just said he slaps a hand over his mouth and glances up. Viktor is looking at him with round eyes. For a moment they just stare, both suspended in disbelief, until Viktor makes an ugly snort sound and starts laughing openly in Yuuri's face.
"I made this just for you and this is the thanks I get," Viktor says once he's calmed down.
"I don't remember thanking you," he fires back, his face red and hands shaking in his apron pockets.
This is new territory, and he can feel the grabby hands of his anxiety trying to drag him back into his doubts. Yuuri is a master of sass according to Phichit, but he feels like he's been navigating his relationship with Viktor on wobbly foal legs. He's definitely one of those people who analyzes conversations days or even weeks after they take place, checking each word and inflection for potential crossed wires or misunderstandings.
But Viktor just grins wildly at him, and Yuuri feels alive with promise.
(After Viktor leaves Yuuri thinks.
He thinks about Viktor taking pottery classes, because that's what Hasetsu is known for and he wants to be involved in Yuuri's heritage. He thinks about Viktor's slim, graceful hands getting dirty, struggling to shape the clay. He thinks about the time and effort Viktor's put into making these little gifts for him – so much better than anything he could've bought, because he made them with Yuuri in mind.
He doesn't say as much, but he doesn't have to.
Yuuri's mind is full of Viktor as he fills the vase with beautiful things – stock, ranunculus, lavender roses, Japanese peonies, tree fern, ting. The next time Viktor comes in Yuuri hands the vase back, and pretends not to see the way Viktor's clay-stained fingertips trace the soft petals, or the way the blush settles on his cheeks at the sight of them.)
They go running together for the first time a month after hanami. Viktor's been trying to convince him to go for ages, but in the end it's really Makkachin with her sweet puppy eyes and her soft fur who seals the deal.
He doesn't say anything, but it seems that Viktor knows running isn't an integral part of Yuuri's everyday routine anymore. He promises lots of breaks and pets, and when Yuuri points out that that's coercion Viktor just laughs and pulls him along anyway. It starts off nice and leisurely – a run along the bay, through Niji-no-Matsubara. They chase each other between the trees, and when Viktor trips over upturned roots Yuuri laughs so hard at the scandalized look on Viktor's face that he cries.
Yuuri doesn't like running, but he does like the fact that he can eat more katsudon now, and he loves the fact that he can spend time like this with Viktor. It's different like this, seeing Viktor sweat. Yuuri is intimate with the training it takes to be a professional athlete, but Viktor had always made it seem so easy, so natural. Watching him struggle five kilometers up a mountain and trip over his own feet in the sand brings the star a bit closer to Earth.
And Makkachin, of course, loves the attention Yuuri gives her.
Yuuri thinks she's starting to like him more than she likes Viktor. Maybe.
(Definitely.)
Then one day Viktor opens his mouth and says, "I want to run to the Hamanoura rice terrace, will you plot a course with me," and Yuuri calmly waits until Viktor has gone back to his hotel for the evening and then loses his mind.
So, he does the one thing he always does when he starts to panic.
"Oh my god, a date?! My baby boy is all grown up and going on dates with Living Legends!"
"No, it's just that – well, we've been running together and he wants to go further – no wait, not like that, Phichit stop laughing –"
"Ohoho, this says it's romantic , and that there's a love bell for couples to ring to ensure good fortune in their relationship."
"No! That's not – are you googling –? Phichit!"
"Google is your friend, Yuuri. Just one question though: how many times have you dreamed about ringing a love bell with Viktor? I need to know for science."
"I hate you."
Only Phichit can successfully fluster him when they're nearly 4,000 kilometers apart.
(Except that's not true, because Viktor .)
In any case, Phichit is of little help except to remind him to breathe, so that's what Yuuri does – he breathes, all the way to Genkai with Viktor on his heels, sans Makkachin.
(It's not much help, because seeing Viktor all sweaty and breathless in person like this has started to take on a slightly different connotation – one that he would rather die than admit to Phichit, even though he's one hundred percent sure Phichit already knows.
But Viktor is seriously beautiful like that, with the sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat, making his temples glisten. Lethal, when he lifts the hem of his shirt up to wipe the moisture from his face.
Who needs to run for exercise when you can just look at Viktor and feel your heart hammer itself straight through your chest?
They end up arriving in Genkai with hours to spare before sunset, so they take a cab to the Genkai Energy Park, where they spend time wandering around the Kyushu Furusato Building and the greenhouse. This is the first time Yuuri has gone sightseeing with Viktor except for when they went flower viewing, and it was almost comical how much Viktor resembles an excited child when faced with something new and fun. Yuuri never thought there was much to do in Genkai or even Hasetsu, but Viktor's appreciation for the pottery exhibit is infectious, and he finds himself enjoying learning the history he already knew through someone else's eyes.
After they leave the park, they stop off at a local sidewalk cafe to grab a bite to eat and walk the three kilometers to join the crowds at the Hamanoura observation deck, with Viktor babbling excitedly in his ear the whole time about all of the things he'd read about it off the internet.
Yuuri known off-hand that the Hamanoura terraces were widely known as being among the most beautiful in the world. He'd seen mention of them in various travel magazines here and there, and once they'd even been featured when the NHK Trophy was held in Fukuoka. He'd even seen pictures, from when Takeshi had proposed to Yuuko here.
None of that really prepared him for seeing them in person, though.
On both sides of them are gently-rounded hills, verdant and lush with greenery, and built into them, sweeping down the narrow corridor in between all the way to the open ocean below, are the rice terraces. It's May which in the world of rice farming means planting season, and each of the terrace steps are filled with water. The surfaces are calm like glass, reflecting the colors of the sunset so intensely that it's like looking into a set of infinity mirrors – like it's just a continuation of the sky.
They'd arrived just in time to catch the most beautiful part of the sunset, and Yuuri stops and stares, transfixed, Viktor warm where he's pressed up against Yuuri's side. Time passes with the movement of the sun as it arcs gently to the horizon, and as the world moves into the vivid shades of sunset the terraces shift with it, gleaming in golds and pinks and brilliant orange.
It's one of the most stunning things he's ever seen.
"Wow," he says, borrowing Viktor's catchphrase. This has only been seventeen kilometers away this whole time, and yet Yuuri has never bothered to see it. He wonders why.
"Yeah, gorgeous," Viktor hums next to him. Their proximity means that Yuuri can feel it more than hear it, a fulfilled sort of rumble deep in his chest that makes Yuuri have to fight not to lean further into him. He glances up out of the corner of his eye, but Viktor's are focused outward, toward the ocean.
He's struck, suddenly, by the quiet reminder that Viktor is a man. He'd spent years trailing along Viktor's path, hanging up posters and magazine spreads, collecting recordings of his programs. It's easy to fall into the trap of forgetting that Viktor, too, is human – a flesh and blood being with hopes and aspirations and disappointments and fears.
It's been a realization slowly imposed over time, but is now imprinted on him, something he can't forget whenever he looks at him and sees the wrinkles by his eyes or the slight lopsidedness of his smile. Now he looks at Viktor and sees the sunset reflected in pastels in the paleness of his hair and the sheen of his eyes and thinks —
"God, your hair is beautiful."
Oh no. Oh no . He's the epitome of that trope that appears on shoujo manga all the time, isn't he — the one where the male lead and his love interest are gazing at some pretty scenery and when the love interest comments on how pretty it is the male lead just looks at them and says something along the lines of 'yeah, beautiful.' Ugh.
But Viktor's hair is actually a work of art right now, with the way the it's making the bold colors soft, with the way it's making a halo of color around Viktor's face. It paints a picture of utter serenity, except Viktor is looking at him, his mouth rounding out to form an 'o' and his pretty blue eyes wide in shock.
Oh god, he'd said at least part of that aloud, hadn't he. Oh fuck.
"Um!" Yuuri tries to backtrack, but his brain goes totally blank with panic. He's stuck here with Viktor and only with Viktor, seventeen kilometers away from home, and he's going to have to share a cab with him all the way back home, and he's probably going to have to see him in the shop after this too because Viktor wouldn't — Viktor wouldn't —
Oh god , what if Viktor thinks he's crazy and never talks to him again? What if he tries to deny it and hurts Viktor's feelings?
Fuck .
"Um," he squeaks. "I just. Your hair is gray."
Viktor flinches at that, and Yuuri barely manages to refrain from sinking himself into the ground.
"No! I didn't mean — It's just. It's the perfect shade to reflect the sunset."
He can't look at Viktor anymore. He's pretty sure all of the blood in his body has settled in his cheeks, because he's lightheaded and feels like his face is on fire. He's lived a quiet life of near-solitude, so this is probably the most embarrassed he's been since his failure at the Sochi GPF and the subsequent year of subpar skating.
He can feel his hands shaking and his palms sweating, so he puts them on the railing of the observation deck to steady himself. After a moment of quiet between them — because, really, what can Yuuri say after that? he won't apologize for finding any part of Viktor beautiful — he feels the warmth of Viktor's hand over his and nearly melts from relief even as the butterflies in his stomach explode into life.
"I'm, um. Not great with people," he confesses after a few minutes of silence. Viktor starts to shake, and for a moment Yuuri is alarmed, wondering if he's made another miscalculation, but then he realizes that Viktor is laughing at him.
"I'm not either," Viktor says once he calms down enough, and the quiet remnants of laughter in his voice are something to be marveled at. Yuuri finds it in himself to look back up at Viktor, finally, and finds nothing but acceptance in his open face. Viktor's thumb charts a path across his knuckles absentmindedly.
"But you're so good in interviews," Yuuri blurts out.
Viktor laughs again, but this time it's less amused and more sardonic. "That's because I know how to be what they want me to be. I'm supposed to be charming, flirty. Worldly. That's the image that was built for me as I grew older." He shrugs, makes it sound like no big deal, but Yuuri can hear what Viktor isn't saying: I'm so used to being what other people want me to be that I don't know if I even have any me left.
He carefully dislodges Viktor's hand from on top of his and flips his hand around, palm up — an invitation. Viktor looks at him for a long moment and then his fingers are threading between Yuuri's and their palms are settling against each other, warm and a little damp with nerves.
Viktor has given him so much — so much that he doesn't deserve, if he's honest — so Yuuri takes a deep, aligning breath and says, "I… I may have omitted some of the truth from you. I was a figure skater for the JSF."
Viktor gives his fingers a squeeze, and his gaze on Yuuri is warm and encouraging. "I know."
"You — you know ? But I —"
"You were at Sochi, right? Your step sequences were gorgeous. It took me a while to recognize your name, but I could never forget your skating."
Viktor doesn't ask why he stopped, and Yuuri feels so intensely grateful for a moment that he nearly sags against the railing. He holds onto Viktor's hand almost desperately, a little overwhelmed.
"You know, I wouldn't want you to be anyone but yourself," he says quietly, and turns his face back out to the ocean. The sun has mostly fallen below the horizon, leaving just a tinge of green and purple to be reflected dimly in the calm waters of the rice terraces. He hears Viktor's sharp inhale and wonders how long he's been waiting to hear someone say that.
They stay at the observation deck long after the sun disappears, long after the other viewers depart, shoulders pressed together and hands holding tight to each other.
"I wish we could do this more often," Viktor laments as the evening chill starts to set in around them.
"What, hold hands?" Yuuri asks absently as he calls for a cab. Viktor grins at him.
"I meant spend time alone together, but that too," he says with a warm laugh.
"Oh. I — me too, Viktor."
The cab arrives — faster than Yuuri anticipated, but the observation deck is close to a major street — and they settle into a comfortable silence for the half hour drive back to Hasetsu. Yuuri can't stop looking at him now that Viktor's opened up to him. It feels like he's staring at a juxtaposition, because he can still see the hint of the Viktor of the public in the smile he gives the cab driver and the way he charms the woman despite not having any languages in common with her. But when Viktor climbs into the back and presses Yuuri's hand down into the seat between them, there's no facade for him to hide behind. It strikes him, then, that Viktor must so utterly trust him, and that more than anything — more than the handholding, more than the smiles, more than the softness of his eyes — is what makes the soft heat bloom up inside him.
When they arrive, Viktor gets out and pays the cab driver, hesitates, and then turns to head inside, and before he knows what he's doing Yuuri's scrabbling out of the cab. He catches Viktor's hand in his own — and god, he's starting to know the shape of it in his own, and isn't that a revelation — and before he can think himself out of it he blurts out "there's a summer festival coming up in July. Please go with me!"
"Hmm. Are you asking me on a date?"
"I-if you want it to be. I mean, yes? Yes."
Viktor smiles at him then, so softly and sweetly and hopefully that it makes something inside him ache , and pulls Yuuri's hand up to his mouth to press his lips to Yuuri's bony knuckles. "I'd love to go with you."
Oh god, Yuuri thinks. He just asked Viktor on a date. A date-date . Not a sightseeing venture. A date. A date where two people hang out alone with each other, romantically. A date .
And Viktor said yes.
(He's so dazed that it takes him a solid five minutes before he realizes he's been walking in the wrong direction.)
an: because hasetsu is based on a real town in saga prefecture called karatsu, i decided to use real places and real history in this fic. if youre interested in that sort of thing youll want to read the notes at the ends of the chapters. if youre not interested then feel free to smile and nod.
- hanami is flower viewing, except more encompassing. it is the custom of going out and enjoying the flowers and appreciating the transience of beauty; the flowers form, bloom, and die in such a short period of time that they are a study of life and death and the fleetingness of beauty. originally hanami referred to plum blossoms but at some point in history cherry blossoms became the preferred flower for hanami, so now hanami refers to the cherry blossom bloom. dates of the blooms depend on location — the further north you are in japan, the later the bloom. in kyushu, hanami takes place generally between late march and mid april. most people go outside and have picnics with their family or s/o; in some cases there are mini-festivals with street food vendors. viktuuri observes hanami at hasetsu castle, bc irl karatsu the castle is a recommended viewing spot.
- the food that viktor eats is popular during hanami. dango are little round balls of rice flour, sakura mochi are anko bean paste treats, and hanami cookies are butter cookies with salt pickled sakura blossoms as decoration.
- we dont rly see this bc its yuuris pov chapter but viktor makes yuuri these pottery pieces bc 1. he is bored out of his mind without smth creative to hold his interest, 2. hes rly genuinely interested in learning more abt yuuris culture, and 3. he wants to make yuuri smth he can use and appreciate bc he gets the feeling that yuuri would like that. karatsu is home to a certain style of pottery called karatsu-yaki which originates back to the 1500s. it is one of three styles of pottery used for tea ceremonies and is one of the top pottery styles in japan.
- the little bouquet yuuri makes in viktors vase does have meaning: stock symbolizes beauty and bonds of affection; ranunculus means 'you are radiant with charm;' peonies represent love between strangers, beauty in all forms, and shame (take that how you will); lavender roses express love at first sight and fascination. tree fern is just a common filler in arrangements, and ting is a fun bit of decoration that comes in all kinds of colors, though all of them are quite glittery haha
- hamanoura no tanada is one of japans five most beautiful rice terraces, located on the coast of the island of kyushu in genkai. it is known for being particularly romantic as the sun creates a mirror-like effect on the water in the month of may, which is the start of rice planting. it is surrounded by two hills on either side, an observation deck on another side, and the beach on the fourth side. on the observation deck is a love bell, which is rung by couples seeking good fortune in their relationships. it is particularly beautiful at sunset, where the waning sunlight is reflected directly off of the water in the terraces. viktor knows all of this bc he looked it up, so ill just say theres a reason he wanted to go there with yuuri wink wonk