Chapter Nineteen: Yuuri vs. The Future

Victor's eyes shone in the moonlight streaming through the window and he leaned back on his elbows as Yuuri positioned himself over him.

"Yuuri," Victor breathed, reaching up and trailing his fingertips down Yuuri's neck, dipping below the neckline of his pajama shirt. Yuuri sucked in a deep breath and bent down to kiss him.

The glorious part was that he knew they were really alone. There was no reason for anyone to come into their room; the noise from the shoin would muffle any of the words they whispered to each other in their little cocoon of intimacy. Victor kissed him back passionately, long fingers stroking his chest and the other hand splayed across his lower back. Yuuri used one hand to brush Victor's hair from his forehead. The silvery strands slipped through his fingers—how many nights had he spent at home staring at the lock of hair he'd bought at that auction?

That represented a completely different version of Victor though. That was the world's Victor Nikiforov—who was perfection, an untouchable, two-dimensional deity—the god of Quidditch. He belonged to everyone. And this was his Victor, an eighteen-year-old boy who craved love and closeness just as Yuuri did. This Victor belonged only to Yuuri.

Yuuri felt the cool night air on his skin before he realized that Victor had untied his pajama top from around his waist, and he let the sleeves slide down over his shoulders until he could easily lift his arms out of them without breaking their kiss. Victor's hands were all over him in an instant, gliding over his arms and chest and stomach, nails grazing the back of his neck as Yuuri fumbled for the ties on Victor's shirt.

Victor had been walking around shirtless in their dormitory for probably the better half of the year—actually, he was often more than just shirtless, but this felt completely different to Yuuri as he pulled back to look down at Victor because this wasn't Victor's general, all-purpose nudity. He was exposing more than just his skin to Yuuri—it was like they were stripping off layers of Victor's public persona until he was raw.

Yuuri exhaled—he wasn't sure if the breath sounded more like a pant or a laugh, but Victor gave him a little smile and closed his eyes, arching up into Yuuri and holding him by the hips.

Yuuri dipped down to kiss Victor's neck as he dropped his hands to his chest. Victor inhaled deeply as Yuuri's lips made contact with his throat, and he tilted his head to the side to bare more of his long neck.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump. Yuuri reveled in the feel of Victor's heartbeat racing under his palm and the pulsing beat in Victor's neck. Victor's hands left his sides to travel around to his front, brushing across his stomach and fingering the waistband of his pajamas. Victor's hips lifted rhythmically up into him, so softly that Yuuri wasn't sure Victor even realized he was doing it, but it was getting pretty hard for Yuuri to ignore.

"I haven't—" he started to say into the skin of Victor's neck, but Victor just shook his head and untied the drawstring of Yuuri's pants.

"It doesn't matter," he said, stroking down Yuuri's hand—the one that was hovering around Victor's left nipple. "You know what to do."

Yuuri nodded—he...sort of knew what to do. He wasn't even sure exactly what they were planning on doing, but the fact that Victor had all the confidence in the world in him was emboldening enough that he dropped his hand to Victor's pants and untied his drawstring as well. All he could really think was that he wanted to be as close as possible to Victor—to hold him so tightly that they could never be separated. To share his breath and his heartbeat until he could hear Victor's thoughts swirling in his mind and feel his emotions coursing through his veins. And in that moment, in the stillness of their room and the soft glow of the moon, he felt it was almost possible.

Victor pushed Yuuri's pants and underwear down off his hips, and Yuuri was forced to drop onto his back onto the bed next to Victor in order to fully undress. Victor shoved his own pants down and kicked them off as fast as possible—inelegant and impatient, eyes never leaving Yuuri's body. There was no room for nervousness with Victor looking at him like that—with Victor climbing over him and breathing hard in his ear as their bodies settled together—chest to chest, hips to hips. Yuuri's eyes slipped closed at the feel of Victor's erection pressing into his—Yuuri had never once been this hard in his life and he felt almost consumed by arousal. He opened his eyes because no way was he going to miss this.

"I've wanted to see you like this since the moment I first laid eyes on you," Victor murmured.

Yuuri huffed a laugh. "What, naked? You've seen me naked a hundred times."

"No," Victor said, kissing him softly on the lips. "In love with me."

Was it really possible that Victor hadn't realized Yuuri had been in love with him forever? Victor rested his forearms on either side of Yuuri and slid his entire body up and then down in a motion that dragged his dick against Yuuri's—and yep, there was no way around the fact that he was naked with another guy and their dicks were touching. Yuuri had tried thus far to force himself not to think too hard about what was going on below his waist—mostly because it felt...somehow unromantic and kind of trivial but it had suddenly become absolutely impossible to ignore in a really good way.

"What do you want?" Victor whispered in his ear. "We can do anything."

Anything. The possibilities of that word seemed infinite, but as Yuuri felt the slide of Victor's body against his one more time, all he could think of was more of that. He kissed Victor as soon as his mouth was within reach again.

"This," he panted against Victor's lips. He felt Victor's smile more than he saw it. Victor removed his right arm from its post next to Yuuri's head and brought it down between their bodies. Yuuri tried not to whimper as he felt Victor's fingers wrap around them.

"Like this," Victor showed him, sliding his hand up and down in a motion that Yuuri was very familiar with. Yuuri nodded, touching his forehead to Victor's, as he reached down to wrap his hand around both of them. Victor groaned softly at the contact and Yuuri felt them move more smoothly together, a light sheen of slickness on his palm.

Yuuri had a flash of absolute clarity where he realized the full force of the fact that he was naked in bed with World Champion Victor Nikiforov—he tried to imagine what Yuuri-from-a-year-ago would've thought of this situation and came up with nothing. It was almost impossible to believe it was really happening.

Except...oh. Victor's fist touched Yuuri's as he stroked up, and Yuuri followed his lead.

Up, down, up down. Breathe.

They moved their hands together for a few more strokes before Victor removed his arm to rest it next to Yuuri's head again, supporting himself with his elbow bumping against Yuuri's arm. Yuuri took over by himself—it wasn't really complicated, just like how he did it to himself except both of them at the same—oh God. That was the moment when it started feeling really, really, intensely good. To Yuuri's astonishment, he noticed Victor's arms were shaking.

It happened so quickly after that—Yuuri noticed the signs one right after the other. The shaking, the sharp intake of breath, Victor squeezing his eyes shut, and suddenly he dropped his head to Yuuri's shoulder, tense and panting hard. Wetness hit Yuuri's wrist and his stomach. His hand glided over them.

"Sorry," Victor murmured in his ear, but Yuuri wasn't the least bit sorry—that had been possibly the greatest thing that had happened to him in his whole life. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do at this point, but after a few seconds, Victor snaked his hand back between them again, batting Yuuri's out of the way, and took him in a firm grip, stroking up and down tightly. Yuuri craned up to kiss him, grasping at Victor's shoulders and holding him close as he rocked up into Victor's fist, savoring the feeling of Victor's tongue in his mouth.

Yuuri considered warning Victor that he was about to come, but in that moment he was certain that Victor already knew, so he settled for digging his fingers into Victor's back and groaning against Victor's lips as he did, in deep pulses, consumed by the sensation of Victor's fingers around him.

He pulled away from Victor's face when he was done, which Victor seemed to intuitively understand was an indication that he could stop. Yuuri took the opportunity to look up into his eyes and brush his sweaty hair away from his face.

Victor rolled off of him and Yuuri reached for his wand, cleaning them up with a spell. No sooner had he replaced it at his bedside then Victor was at his side, curling into him and resting his cheek on Yuuri's chest. Yuuri drew words onto Victor's back with his fingers...I love you...I love you...I love you...

Yuuri woke up the next morning with Victor still plastered to his side, nose nuzzled into Yuuri's neck. There was no moment of confusion where Yuuri forgot what had happened or why Victor was there, he slid comfortably into consciousness with a solid feeling of security he'd only ever had glimpses of.

Strands of Victor's hair slipped through Yuuri's fingers like silk as he stroked Victor's head, reliving the previous evening in all its glorious detail and sparing no thought for embarrassment. Because nothing of that had been embarrassing—not one moment. It was as though Victor had imbibed Yuuri with all his passion and confidence through the touch of his hands, and Yuuri simply felt loved all over.

Yuuri lay there basking in lazy comfort until he could no longer ignore his need to use the bathroom. Extracting himself from Victor proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated—when he shifted away, Victor simply held tighter. When he pried Victor's arm off of his midsection, Victor's eyebrows knitted together in his sleep.

"I'll be right back," Yuuri whispered to him, climbing off of the futon. Victor hummed in response.

Yuuri slipped a pair of underpants on and padded as quietly as he could out of their dormitory.

He got as far as the shoin before running into Yuuko, sneaking out of Takeshi's dormitory and wearing a way-too-large robe. It couldn't have been more obvious that she was not fully clothed underneath it—she yanked the fabric tighter around herself as soon as she caught sight of him, then seemed to relax a little when she realized it was just Yuuri, though she still fixed him with a wide-eyed stare and her face filled with color.

"I—" she started.

"I never saw you. You never saw me," Yuuri told her.

She nodded and tiptoed her way back to her own dormitory.

Yuuri crawled back into bed with Victor, who was now awake—but no less naked, after returning from the bathroom. He yawned and stretched and curled back around Yuuri, who suddenly felt awkward for a split second before Victor said "That was perfect," as though he'd been reading Yuuri's insecurity from his thoughts. Yuuri smiled and drifted back off to sleep.

Yuuri didn't notice the note on his windowsill until he woke up for real several hours later. He tore open the envelope.

Mr. Katsuki—

Ms. Okukawa has arranged for you and I to have a meeting in her classroom this afternoon. Please arrive promptly at 1:00.

—Hana Usui of the Toyohashi Tengu

It occurred to Yuuri that he should be out of his wits with nerves, but his body just seemed unwilling to freak out with him. In spite of a dull throbbing from the goose egg on his forehead (the only evidence of his collision with Minjae Park), he felt utterly loose-limbed and relaxed. His hands refused to tremble, the cold sweat never came. Victor came up from behind, still naked, and plucked the note from his hands.

"I hope you're not surprised," he said, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. They basked together in the sunlight streaming through the window for several minutes before hunger got the best of them and they were forced to dress for breakfast.

"Someday we will have breakfast in bed every morning," Victor told him casually, pulling on a shirt.

Yuuri just barely resisted laughing at him.

The rest of the morning sailed by so wonderfully that Yuuri started thinking he might still be asleep. He and Victor lounged around on the beach, cuddling and watching Otabek try to teach Yurio how play Keeper.

"You should see him with a bat," Victor laughed as they watched him take a whack at the Quaffle with his fist and then let out a roar of frustration when it simply dropped to the sea instead of changing direction like a Bludger would.

"I'm sure he's great," Yuuri agreed.

"He's going to end up playing for Russia," Victor said. "As long as he can learn to control his temper. Durmstrang Quidditch is a lot dirtier than professional—he's not going to like it when fouls are called after he knocks out people's teeth with his bat."

"Yeah," said Yuuri. "It's still surprising. He's got a perfect Seeker body."

"But a Beater's heart," Victor said. "That's what really counts."

"I wish I had his build though," Yuuri mused aloud.

"I don't," Victor said, smoothing a hand over Yuuri's chest. "And besides, you move like a Seeker. That's what I first thought when—"

"People are starting to go in for lunch," Yuuri noticed. "I should eat fast so I'm not late to my meeting."

Yuuri kept waiting for the onset of nerves that never came. Lunch was as casual and relaxing as the rest of the day had been, and he strolled into Minako's classroom after lunch with a confidence he'd never felt in his life. He wondered if it came from Victor—from what they'd done together last night, or maybe just his behavior this morning which was bordering on clingy (in a good way).

Yuuri bowed respectfully to Hana Usui. She bowed back and pulled her clipboard out as she sat at Minako's desk. Yuuri took a seat in the front row.

"I'll start off by saying that your performance yesterday was impressive," said Ms. Usui, shuffling through her paperwork.

"Thank you."

"You can't do that in professional Quidditch though," she continued, and Yuuri knew she was talking about his death plunge.

"I know."

"I wanted to ask what changed between this year and last," she asked, looking him in the eye. "I saw last year's final match too—" Yuuri's stomach twisted, "—and admittedly I'd basically written you off, but apparently I was wrong to do so."

"Well, it probably has something to do with Victor," Yuuri told her.

"Victor Nikiforov? I heard he transferred here from Durmstrang for his final year. Do you know why that is?"

"Yeah, he's my, um...mentor?" Yuuri cringed inwardly. That wasn't supposed to sound like a question, but "yeah, he uprooted his whole life to get in my pants" probably wasn't better, so Yuuri congratulated himself for going with the mentor thing.

"I see," she said. "Well here's the thing, Yuuri. Looking at this year's performance versus last year's, there's really no way for me to tell if you've just improved that much or if you're simply talented but inconsistent. What they should do is send a recruiter to every match of the year and not just the final but...anyway, the school expressed to me that you're interested in signing with the Tengu. Is that true?"

"Yes," Yuuri told her instantly.

"I'm going to have to rely on your word here," she said. "Can you tell me honestly that you are now the kind of Seeker I saw yesterday?"

"Yes." The word was out of Yuuri's mouth before he'd even thought the question through. It came out sounding impressively confident, and what was more stunning—it didn't even feel like false bravado. Yuuri stopped to wonder for a moment when exactly it was that he started believing in himself.

She nodded.

"I'll send you a letter when we've made a decision," she said. "Have you looked into any other teams?"

Yuuri shook his head, suddenly feeling as though he maybe should have.

"I have to make sure you know that doesn't factor into our decision," she told him. "So if the Tengu don't take you, it's worth having a backup plan. Just something to think about."

Yuuri could guarantee that he would be thinking about it. Obsessively. Exclusively. Anxiously. Great.

Due to the fact that he had several really important things to worry about, Yuuri fully expected the good mood that normally succeeded a Quidditch victory to evaporate like the contents of a vanished cauldron, but he found himself incredibly impervious to unhappiness in the following weeks. He even wrote down a list things he should be thinking about, just to try and take himself down a notch.

If the Tengu didn't want him, what was he going to do?

What was going to happen with Victor next year?

Speaking of Victor, how exactly was he expecting to graduate? His grades were just shy of abysmal and Yuuri couldn't manage to get him to care.

Yuuri was unceremoniously interrupted in his list-making by Victor yanking him back onto the pillows. He had to admit that the...uh, romantic situation with Victor made it really difficult to focus on anything unpleasant for long. It became a pattern: Yuuri would start thinking too much, go quiet, and Victor would lower his eyelids and give Yuuri that little private smile and Yuuri would immediately forget whatever was bothering him in favor of more time in bed with Victor. He started to wonder if anyone in the history of the school had ever gotten this much action in the dormitories. Takeshi, their closest neighbor, was more than happy to ignore them in exchange for their complicity in Yuuko sneaking into his room every so often. Yuuri felt that he really wasn't one to judge at this point, so they all just pretended they didn't know what was going on and it worked out nicely.

The one thing he did manage to do alone was send off an application without Victor knowing about it. Honestly, it was such a long shot that he didn't even think it was worth mentioning. He'd be rejected because he had literally nothing to offer the position he applied for, and Victor would never have to know.

Yuuri allowed them one week of slacking off and basking in their victory before he decided that something really had to be done about Victor's grades. Happily, he was now in the position to trade correct answers for kisses, which did more for Victor's study habits than any amount of needling or worrying ever had. His school robes had brightened into a rose-gold color very similar to the one Yuuri's had at the beginning of the year. The one thing Yuuri didn't have to worry about were his own grades—his robes were now such a deep gold they were nearly bronze and he could probably have skipped every homework assignment between the Quidditch final and graduation and still passed easily. Which was a good thing, because he caught himself daydreaming instead of paying attention nearly every class period.

One day, a week before final exams, Yuuri awoke to find Victor sitting on the edge of their futon, looking away.

"What—"

And then his heart dropped into his stomach, because Victor was holding a large envelope with the seal of the Russian Ministry of Magic.

"What's this?" Victor asked. His voice was light, but Yuuri knew him too well by now to think that he wasn't upset.

"Um. It's a...well, I don't know what it is. I haven't opened it yet."

That was a lie. There would be no reason for them to send him an envelope that thick if he hadn't been offered a position, and Victor seemed to know that. He just sat, hair hiding his eyes from view. Waiting for Yuuri to be honest.

"Look, I just thought it would be a good idea for me to try and look for a job out there. So that you can go back to the Skrzak—"

"When did you ever hear me say I wanted to go back to the Skrzak?" Victor asked quietly.

"I didn't," Yuuri admitted. "But Victor, you can't just totally throw away your career for me. I mean, what if I don't get on the Tengu? What's going to happen to us when school ends in two weeks?"

"If I didn't think you were capable of getting onto the Tengu, I wouldn't have come here in the first place," Victor said, and Yuuri could hear the shaking in his voice.

"I'm just trying to be realistic," Yuuri said.

"So am I," Victor replied. "And I want to know: what is your plan? You're going to follow me to Russia and be my housewife—whether I like it or not—if you don't make the Tengu?"

"Well at least we'll be together. Would you like it better if I worked for the Japanese Ministry?" Yuuri asked, throwing his hands in the air.

Victor continued as though he hadn't heard him. "And if you do make the team, which you will, we're what? Breaking up?"

Yuuri's heart clenched and his anger vanished. Something fell into Victor's lap from underneath his hair. Carefully, Yuuri reached out and lifted Victor's bangs from his forehead.

"You're crying."

"I'm angry. What do you want me to do?" he all but snapped.

"I…"

Victor looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He didn't repeat the question, but he might as well have because it was clear that it wasn't a rhetorical one. What do you want me to do?

He tried to understand where Victor was coming from. On the one hand, there was the part of Yuuri that wanted to do anything to keep them close together-whatever menial clerk position, anywhere in the world, and he was certain that Victor also wanted that on some level.

"What do you want me to do?" Yuuri repeated back to him.

Victor took out his wand and tapped his bag. A photograph sprang out and Victor caught it in midair. He shoved it into Yuuri's face. Yuuri watched his own drunk-ass twirling around the Kinya.

"Oh God, not this-" he groaned.

"Look at this," Victor said.

"Why?"

"Because this was when I met you," he said. "This was what I saw. Look at the way you move, your limbs…" Victor traced his finger on the picture where Drunk Picture Yuuri was doing the splits while supporting himself with his hands on the broom. "And then you came over and told me about how you ruined your last season and I just...didn't understand. You have all the talent in the world. And I wouldn't have left the Skrzak for anyone less than you."

"But you do miss Quidditch," Yuuri said, trying not to get distracted by the way his heartbeat sped up at the idea that he was the only thing Victor would've left his team for.

"Of course I do," Victor admitted. "But that doesn't mean I want you to quit."

"Yuuri? Victor?" Phichit's voice came floating in from the shoin.

"We're in here," Yuuri called back.

"You're going to miss breakfast," Phichit told them.

"Coming," Yuuri replied. He turned his attention back to Victor when he heard Phichit's footsteps fade.

"I want you to think about what it is you want. From me and from yourself," Victor said. And then he stood up, pulled off his pajama top and reached for his school robes.

Victor managed to behave throughout the entire school day as though they hadn't spent their entire morning fighting. He was just as affectionate and friendly as always, which Yuuri was not quite able to pull off. He knew he was coming across as stiff and standoffish (and so did everyone else-Yuuko kept asking if he was feeling alright) but couldn't seem to do anything about it.

Yuuri was expecting Victor to roll over onto his side and fall asleep without a word once they were in bed and out of earshot of everyone else. What he didn't anticipate was Victor immediately reaching for him in the darkness, holding him close and touching him like he was certain Yuuri was going to vanish with the rising sun. This isn't the end of us, Yuuri wanted to tell him...but he had nothing other than his own wishes to support that statement, so he didn't say it.

Yuuri woke the next morning to the sound of a crow rapping on the window. He extracted himself with difficulty from the vice grip of Victor's arms and went to take the letter from the crow's beak, wondering if it was a note from home or…

He flipped the letter over and felt his pulse thrumming in his ears. Mr. Yuuri Katsuki. Hana Usui. Toyohashi Tengu.

He must have gasped out loud because Victor woke up and half sat up in bed, squinting at Yuuri.

"You got it," he said simply, and Yuuri knew he had. Just like with the letter from the Russian Ministry, there would've been no reason to send him a whole packet if they simply wanted to tell him they weren't interested. Yuuri opened the seal with trembling fingers.

Congratulations...pleased to offer you...position for the upcoming season...second reserve Seeker...details in the following pages...report to…

Yuuri looked up at Victor.

"Second reserve Seeker," he breathed. And then, because it was no less important, he looked Victor in the eye and added, "We are not breaking up."

He couldn't say in that moment how he knew that, or what they were going to do for the rest of their lives-but he couldn't have been more positive. Victor smiled and closed his eyes.

"Of course we're not," he said like he'd known that all along. "Come back to bed."