"stop it," yuuri laughs, a sweet vibration against victor's lips that mouth along the line of his throat. "we only have an hour before your session with yakov. we should eat lunch."
"I am eating, detka," victor injects, sucking on yuuri's skin. it's salty and soft, like a freshly boiled dumpling.
yuuri groans, but only half is pleasure. the other? embarrassment at victor's cheesy words, even if he has long since learned that there is no stopping him when he gets like this - a smitten fool with mouth filled to the brims with silly nothings.
"fine," yuuri gives. he grabs the hair on the back of victor's neck and pulls, pulls until victor has no choice but to look him in the eye. it's delightful, that pressure, that sheer dominance in the gesture, and victor melts into it, barely able to keep his hands on yuuri's hips. "but if I'm going to miss lunch now, tonight you're making dinner and I get seconds."
victor weighs the options. "I'll do you better. you'll get dessert."
yuuri's eyes widen, then narrow down in consideration.
"chocolate eclair?" yuuri asks, still bartering.
victor is already smirking by then. the temptation is almost as hard to resist for yuuri as it is for him.
"we can stop by the pastry shop on the corner and you can pick," victor offers. and he knows he's already won.
yuuri's fingers tug on his victor's hair absently. he licks his lips, decision made, and then he brings his mouth to victor's.
"deal," he breathes.
like a man starved, victor kisses him. and yuuri kisses him back - just as hungry, just as greedy. the lunch hour passes before they know it, on shared gasps, needy touches and lips, teeth, hands, all leaving their mark.
by the time victor steps up on the ice to begin his practice and yuuri gingerly sits on the bleachers to watch, he can still taste him on his tongue. but he's already warmed up and ready to preform, to leave his heart on the ice and show the world what he always does - his life and love: startling, bright and new.
and with a glimpse at yuuri, flushed still and dazzling, victor does just that.
He didn't care that they only saw the excessively tight costumes, the dazzling smile (that he'd stolen from Victor) or that people whispered behind his back about the kind of life that he led. Christophe Giacometti had damn well earned his life, and he wasn't going to apologise - not to anyone. Not even if beneath the façade, there was a little boy who watched with wide eyes as Victor Nikiforov took the world by storm, and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with him when the world was finally quiet and had stopped asking things of them.
Having lived with Yuuri for a while, Victor had slowly gotten used to all of the chaos that came with his husband. And for someone who had once seemed so quiet and shy, there was a lot. After meeting Phichit, Victor had started to believe that the time Yuuri had spent living with the Thai man had made a big impact on the amount of destruction and accidents that happened around their apartment.
So when he was reading a book on the couch in the living room, and heard a large crash coming from the kitchen, it wasn’t entirely shocking. It startled him, for sure, but after the initial jump he sighed with a soft smile on his lips and set down his book to investigate. The closer he got, the more swearing he heard as Yuuri half yelled at whatever had caused the noise.
Rounding the corner, there were a few things Victor expected to see: a bowl that once held the ingredients to what Yuuri was cooking on the ground, the ingredients now on the ceiling; a pile of stuff on the ground that may have fallen while Yuuri grabbed something from the cupboard, Yuuri standing behind the mess and clutching whatever he had been trying to get; at this point he even expected to find the fridge somehow knocked onto the floor, though he supposed that crash would have been a little louder.
As the disaster came into view, Victor learned his second guess had been mostly correct. The top cupboard was wide open and mostly empty, it’s shelf askew from where Yuuri must have pulled it down trying to get something. Everything that had once been on the shelf was all over the floor, and Victor waved at the puffs of flour coming up from the container that had shattered. The only difference to what he had imagined was that instead of Yuuri standing to the side, probably shaken and maybe with some flour on him, but otherwise clean and okay, his husband was laying in the middle of the mess, completely covered in flour and breadcrumbs, the box clutched in his hand so hard that the top had popped open and the crumbs had fallen out during the fall.
Victor couldn’t help the short laugh that came as Yuuri tilted his head so he was looking at him upside down, shocked and sheepish.
“Hello,” he snickered, hiding it behind his hand as he surveyed the damage around Yuuri. “You, um, you know the ingredients generally don’t go there, right?”
Yuuri glared at him, although there was no heat in it, and it was even less effective with the bright blush he was sporting at having been caught like this. “I know that, I figured this would be a fun change though. Experimenting a little.” He joked back anyway, letting out a light puff of air, disturbing some flour sitting on his face and sending another white cloud into the air.
Almost full-on laughing now, Victor picked his way carefully across the floor, being sure to avoid stepping on anything, to crouch down by Yuuri’s head. Gently, he wiped the flour off of his face as he smiled down at him. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Vitya.” Yuuri laughed a little, closing his eyes and thumping his head softly on the ground.
“Alright then, what actually happened? Cause I know you like to rearrange things sometimes, but this is a bit chaotic, even for you.” Wiping the spot behind him, Victor sat down on the ground to listen to Yuuri’s excuse as to how he and the kitchen ended up covered in flour and breadcrumbs.
Yuuri propped himself up on his elbows and smiled nervously. “I was trying to make katsudon.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I needed the panko and they were on the top shelf. I guess I couldn’t… quite… reach.” He laughed a little, closing his eyes again and letting his head fall back. Victor reached out and ran his hair through Yuuri’s hair, getting briefly distracted by how soft it was, the beautiful smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling as he opened them again and looked over at Victor. He felt his heart skip a beat, and immediately he could feel a matching smile on his own face.
“You know,” he began, finally pulling his hand back and setting it in his lap. “You could have just asked me for help, or gotten the step stool, or a chair.” Yuuri pouted at him.
“Yeah, but it was meant to be a surprise.” He sat up and shook his head to knock some of the flour out of his hair. There was still a large spot right on the back, and Victor reached forward, gesturing for Yuuri to tilt his head down. Once he did, Victor shook his hand through the back of his hair, turning it from white to a lightened version of the normal black. He laughed and wiped it on his pants.
“Of course, of course. You are always full of surprises.” Victor leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his nose. Yuuri’s smile brightened and he couldn’t help but smile back. “How about you go shower while I pick up a little? Then we can make katsudon together.”
Yuuri nodded, and he stood, helping Victor up as well. “I’ll be fast, I don’t want to make you clean this all up on your own. I’m the one who made the mess, anyway.” With a quick peck on the lips, Yuuri carefully moved his way out of the kitchen and to the bathroom.
Victor couldn’t help but raise a hand to his lips, chasing the feeling for a moment with a smile on his face. Yes, Yuuri was chaotic. But he loved every moment of their lives together.
The many times Victor Nikiforov dreamt of how soft and pliable Katsuki Yuuri’s lips were seemed to be endless. But he knew boundaries, he wouldn’t kiss him unless the circumstances called for it, and god did he hope for them to call for it.
In Hasetsu, Victor found himself falling out of love with the idea of him and in love with the very core of Yuuri. His drive, his unrealized beauty, his passion the moment he glided across the ice and truly became the most beautiful person he’d ever seen on the ice, were what drove him to remain patient and hopelessly loyal. Victor figured if his lips wouldn’t be graced by the soft plushness just yet he would find an excuse to brush at them every chance he had. Whether it was to demonstrate his own Eros by asking him to show his true one soon while gently traversing the softness of his lips with the pads of his thumbs, or applying lip balm on his constantly chapped lips, or even swiping away at a grain of rice that stubbornly strayed at the corners of his mouth no matter what he did, it was enough for Victor especially when he was rewarded with a blush and a shy look down to the ground for the first few weeks.
Victor had gotten close once to knowing the feeling during a beautiful summer day where he had decided that they should have an off day and explore the beach. He adored the way the sound of the seagulls reminded him of Piter, but the beauty of the beaches of Hasetsu were enough to render him speechless. He’d sat at the shore with Yuuri an endless amount of times, but he wanted to truly explore it with him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so broadly that his cheeks hurt from the flawless effort. Makkachin seemed more like a puppy as she kept up with chasing them around the water, Yuuri had even initiated a water fight as he splashed Victor senseless, eliciting a chorus of giggling and laughter. After a long day chasing Yuuri and Makkachin across the sand, getting enveloped in the salty ocean water and only resting to have a few snacks that Hiroko had graciously packed for them, eventually it was time to call an end to their day by rinsing down in the accessible showers to get the remnants of sand away. As soon as he twisted the spout on, Victor saw Yuuri staring at him through the gentle waterfall. His heart shaped smile only grew broader as he reached over to rustle up Yuuri’s hair and he returned the gesture as they laughed together under the spouts with Makkachin prancing between them and shaking excess water against them.
As they reached to turn off the water, Victor made a grab for the towels and worked to pat away at the droplets that clung on to his silver tendrils and again he caught Yuuri staring.
“Do I have something on me?” Victor asked brightly.
Yuuri furiously shook his head and continued to look on with a look that was a mixture of awe and possible curiosity. After a few moments Yuuri appeared to find resolve and found the nerve to ask something that Victor had learned seemed to be truly intimate in Japan.
“Could I dry your hair?” Yuuri inquired.
Victor threw the towel over at Yuuri and stood directly in front of him, peeking over his shoulder with a wink.
“Of course, I’ll leave it to you, Yuuri!” Victor said absolutely delighted.
He could hear Yuuri laughing nervously but soon his hands were working the towel gently against the length of his hair. It was something Victor thought he could get used to if only to have any excuse to be this close. He hadn’t realized he was in a daze and that Yuuri was done until he opened his eyes and saw Yuuri was directly in front of him.
“Will you do mine now?”
With softened eyes, Victor nodded and ran his fingers through the dampness of Yuuri’s hair. He had previously worked with his hair as they tried to figure out what look would be best suited for him when he was out on the ice, and each time he got lost in the raven strands. Today Yuuri smelled like the ocean and he could still make out the scent of his shampoo. Just as he was sure there were no more stray drops, Victor nudged Yuuri and smiled fondly down at him.
“Shall we head back for dinner and a soak in the onsen?”
Yuuri nodded and walked beside Victor, his body seemed less stiff than it usually was and Victor was delighted to witness that.
“Hey Victor?” Yuuri began.
“Yes, Yuuri?”
Yuuri abruptly stopped walking and looped his arm around Victor’s shoulder, bringing his head down so he could lace a quick kiss against his temple and the top of his head.
“I...I feel a lot of gratitude right now and I didn’t know how else to show it so.” Yuuri said clearly flustered.
Victor’s heart threatened to burst from his chest, as he gently placed his finger tips against his temple, though it was quick the feeling of Yuuri’s lips against them were even softer than he could have hoped for.
Yuuri was about to apologize for the intrusion when Victor asked, “May I show you mine?”
Wordlessly Yuuri’s mouth gaped open in curiosity, his eyes searched Victor’s for a clear answer on what he was about to do, but he nodded all the same. Victor smiled gently down at the man before him, as he drew a lithe hand up to rustle at the tendrils of sunkissed hair once again. Victor then made the swift move to kiss against Yuuri’s temple and then his forehead. He heard Yuuri gasp at the forehead kiss and glanced down to see that same lovely blush he loved to see starting at the bridge of his nose and scattering to the edges of his cheeks.
“Thank you for a wonderful day, Yuuri.” Victor said softly.
He noted just how close he was to Yuuri’s face, and was surprised that Yuuri hadn’t repelled back as he usually would have. Instead, Victor had to be reminded once again that Yuuri was a world of surprises especially as he felt Yuuri’s fingers interlocking with his own. There were no more words that had to be spoken between them, and for now Victor was more than okay with working through the feeling of how wonderful it was to feel the warmth of his hand against his own as they walked back to the inn in absolute harmony.
This image just hit me and now I’m having all the feels :’)
Nervous excitement makes Yuuri’s hands clammy, and his heart is racing. He looks back over his shoulder, and Victor is already smiling at him, his grin getting broader when he meets Yuuri’s eyes. Winking, Victor brings his hand up to give his ring a kiss for good luck. Yuuri smiles back, doing the same, and a second later the headlights go out.
Blue light floods the rink and an upbeat song starts to play. The announcer’s voice is enthusiastic as he animates the audience to cheer for them, first in Italian, then in English.
Under the deafening cheers of the audience they take to the ice. Otabek, Yuri and Phichit go first, and Yuuri quickly follows them. Spots of light are dancing over the ice until they focus in the middle, and he comes to a stop under them, forming a line with the others. When Chris and Victor come up next to him the announcer starts to introduce them each, followed by cheers of the crowd.
Yuuri can’t help it, his smile becomes a grin when the announcer calls out, “From Japan, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov!”
Raising both hands, he turns to all sides, and waves to the audience. His grin is never fading. He can’t remember when he last felt like this during a competition. Maybe it is the relieve of the olympic season coming to an end, or maybe he’s just able to bask in this moment.
Its not really a ~prompt~ but i Love when you write victor or yuuri calling each other "honey" idk why but that gets me in my feelings
here’s a little thing for you, sweet anon <3
Yuuri doesn’t realize it at first, but not because it isn’t obvious. Abandoning a successful career to travel some four thousand miles at a drunken request and loosely interpreted declaration of love in the form of what amounts to an ice skating cover aren’t the actions of a man who has fallen lightly, but tell that to the pervasive voice in Yuuri’s head particularly adept at picking apart his inherent worthlessness, his crushing mediocrity, his everything with practiced regularity.
The truth sinks in slowly, day by careful day, pebbles of clarity plunking through Yuuri’s perception of himself and Viktor and their relationship, washed on the shore of consciousness.
Viktor is more than wrapped around Yuuri’s little finger. He’s completely and utterly ensnared.
The first time Yuuri really allows himself to notice it coincides with their first night together in St. Petersburg. Yuuri is a puddle in the sheets, thoroughly unraveled by Viktor’s hands, his teeth, his tongue, taking him apart over the course of the last few hours with loving dedication. It’s strange because Yuuri isn’t worth Viktor’s little gasps of pleasure, the reverent gazes, but then the fine lines of his body are melted into Yuuri’s and none of that matters, anyway.
Yuuri’s stomach growls while Viktor is cleaning them. Viktor laughs—the sound of it pitched an octave lower than normal, graveled down by hours spent groaning into Yuuri’s shoulder, suffusing his skin with sweetness. He kisses Yuuri’s stomach, right under his navel. “What can I get you, my love?”
Yuuri isn’t sure if Viktor’s speaking to him or his stomach, so he answers for them both. “I wish we had ice cream.”
He’s expecting Viktor to comment about his diet, maybe wistfully agree if the post-sex afterglow has burned out all sense of reason like it has for Yuuri. Instead, he pets Yuuri’s hair out of his face, leaves to rummage in his dresser for a pair of joggers and a fresh t-shirt.
“I’ll be right back.” Viktor starts to leave, then turns back, kisses Yuuri’s forehead as an afterthought.
Yuuri could stop him. Furthermore, he should.
He doesn’t, because the concept of Viktor Nikiforov, five-time consecutive GPF gold medalist, half-skipping out of the apartment at 3 am to fetch him post-coitus snacks is a jarring pile-up of concepts that he can’t quite parse with reality.
“Something sweet for my sweet,” Viktor says when he returns. He holds a spoonful of cookie dough dynamo Haagen Dazs to Yuuri’s lips. His favorite, though he’s not sure how Viktor knows that.
Yuuri manages to convince himself it was a fluke later that week when the gauzy light and easy heat of their bedroom (and bathroom and kitchen and front entryway) is stripped away, replaced by language barriers, fluorescents, and falls out of triple axels.
Viktor takes his job as a coach seriously. He doesn’t pull his punches when it comes to criticism. It’s one of the main reasons their work relationship functions as well as it does. Still, it’s jarring to go from the Viktor at the rink, demanding one more run through before lunch, “arms up, wrists loose, tighten your core on the jump,” to the one at home, running Yuuri’s towel through the dryer before he gets out of the shower because he can’t get used to Russian winters.
It’s a power Yuuri isn’t comfortable wielding, one he doesn’t even realize he’s invoking half the time until he makes an offhand comment about something like waking up with a stiff neck over breakfast and finds his pillow replaced by an expensive memory foam version the next night.
“When I said I missed Kaasan’s katsudon I didn’t mean for him to book us a trip to Japan,” Yuuri stresses to Phichit over Facetime, head bowed in his hand. “How am I supposed to keep up with that?”
Phichit squints. “Are you bragging?”
“No, I’m—”
“No one likes a braggart, Yuuri.”
Yuuri gets it after a few years of marriage, of scraping Viktor’s windshield before work, letting Viktor pick the music in the car even though he could recite Britney Spears’ entire oeuvre from front to back at this point, calling him the occasional pet name despite how awkward it still feels on his tongue.
It’s not about possession and it’s not about control. It’s caring for someone so completely that their needs become your own, loving them so deeply that their happiness is yours.
Yuuri comes home from an early morning trip to the new bakery down the street. He hates being awake before 7 am, he hates that it’s only October and already so cold, and he hates the way the words roll clumsily from his lips when he sits on the edge of the bed and wakes Viktor with a hand in his hair and a, “good morning, honey. I got us breakfast.”
He hates it, but Viktor’s bleary-eyed smile is worth it. Yuuri’s not wrapped around his little finger, but he is tied to his heart—a gold banded reminder when Viktor raises his hand, strokes Yuuri’s cheek with his thumb.
“Again,” Viktor says, sitting up on his elbows. “I was half-asleep the first time.”
“Hurry up, honey,” Yuuri repeats. He wants to be petulant about it, but Viktor is so openly enraptured—slack-mouthed and wide-eyed—that he can’t help but smile. “Breakfast’ll get cold.”
Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri’s waist and drags him back down to the bed, pressing wet kisses into his neck. “Let it.”
“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” Yuri blinked up at Otabek, almost not processing the words at first. “Are you okay, Yura?”
“Fine,” Yuri said, as Otabek helped him to his feet. “You are so ridiculous, though, you know that?” He still felt a little woozy, and he wasn’t sure what happened.
Otabek pretended to look offended. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “I am completely seriously all the time.” Yuri rolled his eyes at him, however, Beka did turn serious a moment later. “Really, though, are you okay? That fall was kind of scary. I told you that you have stopped for the day.”
Yuri nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “I just got a bit dizzy, that’s all.”
“Maybe we should take a lunch break,” Otabek said. “We can come back to training after you’ve had some time to rest.”
Maybe Beka was right. Slowly, the Kazakh lead him over to the edge of the ice rink, and carefully off. “So, I did all that just to get your attention, huh?” he asked, as he was taking off his skates. He was trying to lighten the mood a bit.
Otabek smirked as he took off his skates. “Oh, are you saying you weren’t?”
Yuri smiled over at him. “I’m always trying to get your attention, don’t you know that?” he asked. “Everything I do.” He leaned over, pressing a light kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. They both knew, of course, that the fall - and subsequent fainting - hadn’t, but it was nice to lighten the mood a bit.
After their skates were off, Otabek offered Yuri his arm and helped him stand up. “I know that kotenka,” he said, leaning in to kiss him again. “Just like the same goes for me.” He smiled at him, a smile reserved only for Yuri. “Come on, let’s go get some lunch. If you’re still dizzy, you’re going home, understand? I’ll get Yakov if I have to.”
Yuri chuckled. “Yes, sir,” he said with a smirk. The roll of Otabek’s eyes was his only response.
PROMPT: In which every morning, a character awakes in a different body, and is only able to see their true self in the reflection of another’s eyes.
Victor Nikiforov is magic - really, a magical person, like a person with magic. He doesn’t know when it started show, but as he grew up, he knew he had a power that others do not.
He remembered when he was in fourth grade. He just transferred schools from his town of St. Petersburg to the City of Moscow. He was afraid to make a bad impression, so as he was being introduced by the teacher, he thought, “Let me know how they see me! So I should know how to act!” he chanted those words over and over in his head.
On his fifth try, just as the teacher was asking him to find his seat, he found himself already sitting at the right side of the room, looking at himself a few minutes before and thinking, “He looks scared” before he felt a tug in his stomach as he mentally took a step back and found himself beside the professor again as he just stared at the kid, who he knew, was the person he ‘exchanged’, only to see the girl looking at him with a blank look.
‘She doesn’t know?’ he mentally asked himself as he squared his shoulders to visibly act brave.
When class ended he immediately went to the girl and asked for her name and if he vould tell him what happened and if she really thought he looked scared. The girl openly gaped at him and asked, ‘How did you know?’ after that, he shut his mouth, lest he be branded as a weirdo.
It happened a few more times after that. He keeps exchanging with his classmates, their teachers, the principal, even his parents. As he grew up, he learned to control it and use his power at will. He exchanges with a different person daily. Try to see himself from a different perspective. He can even go back in time to exchange, see a person's reaction from a few hours back. This eventually helped him in his career.
He knew what a lot of people are expecting of him.
He used it - he used it real well.
In fact, he managed to get two olympic gold medals and five worlds and grand prix medals, adding two more and a few silvers if we’re counting his junior years.
Everyone forgot about that.
At 27 years old, at the top of his career, he found that he’s bored. His powers already lost its appeal a long time ago. The only reason he ever uses it now is because no one would criticize him in his face anymore.
No one would tell, the Great Victor Nikiforov where in his performance did they get bored, happy, sad or surprised.
He only longed to please his audience.
So, color him surpised, when he stumbled upon a person at the hall after the ceremony, whom he couldn’t ‘exchange’ with.
So he did what he thought was best, he opened his mouth and asked, “Would you like a commemorative photo?”
Only to be harshly rejected by the man who turned his back on him and went the other way.
He found a nullifier.
He found him again at the banquet. Wasted - drunk out of his mind and challenging people left and right to a dance off.
Noticing everyone… but him. He was never even spared a glance by the drunk man.
‘Doesn’t he know me?’
‘Doesn’t he care?’
‘Does he hate me?’
He asked those questions in his head over and over as he followed the man go from competitors to sponsors. Fro. His rinkmates to his best friend to the higher ups and sponsors.
No one was spared.
Except for him.
He tried to exchange again.
‘Damn it! Why won’t this work?’ he thought irritably as he took picture after picture of the man.
For the first time in his life he found someone he couldn’t exchange with.
And he was curious.
The banquet ended and world’s soon followed. He hasn’t seen the man since then.
Yuuri Katsuki, 24, Japan’s Ace in Figure Skating was rumored to have just ended his contract with his coach, Celestino Cialdinni.
He was sitting in his empty apartment with no other company than his dog, Makkachin, when a link was sent to him.
It was Yuuri - skating to his FS Program, Stammi Vicino. This is a good call as any, he thought as he immediately started packing his bag after the nth replay of the video.
Yuuri was the exception.
“I just want you to be Victor” was the reply.
He smiled.
For the first time in his life, he was the one who was surprised.
