D-dark RC... sexy headcanons about Victuuri's size difference??? o///o
According to the YOI wikia, Victor is 5′11″ and Yuuri is 5′8″. For reference, compare Valtteri Bottas and Marcus Ericsson in this height comparison chart of Formula 1 drivers. Theirs is a lovely height difference, because it puts Victor’s lips at the same height as the space between Yuuri’s eyebrows. All Victor has to do is step close to press kisses there, and it’s something he does often, but even sweeter is that he barely has to do any work for a proper kiss–just cup Yuuri’s chin in his hands, thumbs stroking the throb on either side of the curve of Yuuri’s jaw, and tilt it up. He’s dated and slept with people of all heights, has stooped to kiss them and felt the ache in his neck, has craned his own jaw up for mouths out of reach, but with Yuuri it’s effortless to just tip up his chin, part those lips beneath his, and take what he wants.
And don’t get me started on their size difference. Like, look at this:
Are you fucking kidding me. Look at Victor’s fucking wingspan. Look at how broad his shoulders are. You know he gives the best hugs; Yuuri finds every excuse in the book to be wrapped up in them. When Victor’s lying on the couch watching another episode of Would I Lie To You? on his phone, Yuuri climbs on top of him and just goes boneless, forcing Victor to sling his free arm around Yuuri’s back to keep him from falling off. Or when Victor’s in the kitchen and burning the kolbasa, Yuuri will wander in and force himself in between Victor and the stove, pressing close, burying his face into Victor’s shoulder while Victor holds him tight with one arm and tries to put out the inevitable grease fire with the other.
But his favorite is when Victor holds him from behind. Since Victor walks on cat’s feet, Yuuri never hears him coming, so every single time is a complete surprise. It always makes Victor laugh–”were you expecting someone else?” Of course Yuuri’s not expecting someone else. It’s just that no one’s ever held him before–not like this. His brain is still scrambling to log in the feeling of a broad chest slotting up against his back like the final piece in a puzzle that’s taken years to finish; he’s still trying to compute what it feels like to be pulled in and wrapped up, safe, sheltered from everything in the world that could go wrong; and every time it’s completely new, because the muscles that should hold that memory have atrophied over the years. But someday Yuuri will be so used to it that, when Victor comes up behind him and slides proprietary arms around his belly and chest, he won’t even twitch. Until then, he’s more than happy to be surprised by and then melt into every touch.
AND SHARING CLOTHES I MEAN
Yuuri is all about big, comfy sweatshirts and collared shirts that hang off him, which means Victor can never find a shirt to wear because Yuuri’s stolen them all. Victor can’t even be mad about it, because there is nothing sexier than seeing Yuuri lounging in their kitchen, feet absently swinging where he sits at the breakfast bar, wrapped up in Victor’s favorite flannel while trying to translate the front page of Известия.
Victor totally gets his revenge by stealing some of Yuuri’s shirts, which are waaaay too small in the shoulders and arms, and they all hug the valleys of his six pack in the most indecent ways. If he tries to reach for something in a cabinet while wearing Yuuri’s favorite raglan, it’ll ride up to bare all of Victor’s stomach. It’s unbearably hot and Yuuri can’t help the waves of lust that crash over him when he sees Victor in his too-small clothes. And while forcing Victor to take Yuuri’s shirts off usually leads to impromptu sex, Yuuri has to keep replacing them because Victor’s stretching them all out.
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