Archive of Our Own ^beta

Naturally, it only finally hits Viktor right when everything should be perfect.

Yuuri's asleep with his head on his leg, sprawled out on Viktor's couch. Viktor's been slowly carding his fingers through Yuuri's hair for about an hour now, and Makkachin is sprawled out asleep on the other side of Viktor, pressed up against his leg. Yuuri's boxes are lying open and half-emptied all over the apartment, and it's tangible proof that this is actually happening.

He's moving in. His flight had gotten in at 6 am, and he's finally here, sound asleep in Viktor's home.

It's heaven. This is Viktor's heaven. He never needs anything more than this.

Of course, naturally, that's when it finally hits him.

Let's put some trust in our relationship.

The memory hits, and Viktor's hand freezes, his entire body stilling and his eyes going wide.

Oh. Oh.

Why are you running away? Do you have a lover?

Viktor's breathing way too hard, and he can feel the shake settling into his hands.

Yuuri, let's sleep together!

Oh.

Oh, god.

What had Viktor done?

He'd just shown up and - and - he hadn't even asked if Yuuri wanted him there. 

He'd gotten right into Yuuri's personal space without asking. He'd crashed headlong into that privacy that Viktor now knows Yuuri is so protective of. He'd acted the way he thought Yuuri would want, he'd thought he was picking up where they left off, he'd thought he was finally getting a chance to woo Yuuri, too, but Yuuri hadn't remembered that night, he had no idea that -

"Viktor?" Yuuri's stirring against his knee, twisting his head to blink blearily up at him. There's a strand of hair falling across his face, and Viktor's heart is beating so hard it hurts. "You okay?"

His eyes are wide, blurry and sleepily unfocused, and Viktor's heart is in his throat as he cards his fingers through Yuuri's hair. He gets a visible swallow for that, before Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut and nestles back into Viktor's knee, his cheek pressing against Viktor through the thin fabric. It's like he's trying to both hide there and press up into the touch at the same time, and Viktor takes a steadying breath. 

If there's one thing he's good at, it's delaying panic, and tucking it away until he can deal with it at a later time.

"I'm fine, lyubov. Go back to sleep, okay? I'll wake you for dinner."

His voice is remarkably steady, all things considered, and he's careful to keep the words as gentle as he can. He can see the blush spread across Yuuri's face - Yuuri still hasn't gotten used to this, he still melts whenever Viktor's sweet to him, and Viktor hopes that that never changes - and then Yuuri nods and pulls his legs up closer to himself, and Viktor gentles his hand even further. 

They've been unpacking all morning, and Yuuri's just left his life in Japan behind. He must be exhausted, and this isn't the time for Viktor to have a meltdown. This is the time for Viktor to sit down with himself - on his own, without giving Yuuri anything more to worry about - and figure out how to fix this.

Because Viktor is, absolutely and categorically, an asshole.

- - -

That night, Viktor finds himself lying there with Yuuri asleep on his chest. Viktor has his arms wrapped around him, and Yuuri's cheek is soft and warm against his bare chest. Yuuri had finished dinner and pretty much just faceplanted into Viktor's bed, and he'd been out long by the time Viktor had slid in to join him. That had gotten Yuuri to stir a little, at least - long enough for him to latch on to Viktor like a particularly enthusiastic octopus - and now he's asleep again, his breathing soft against Viktor's skin, and Viktor could absolutely die for the guilt roiling in his gut.

Had he... pushed Yuuri? Rushed him, in any way? Had he made him uncomfortable? 

He'd thought it was what Yuuri would want. For Viktor to come on strong, and make it unequivocally clear that, yes, Viktor wanted Yuuri, too, just as much as Yuuri wanted him. 

Because Yuuri had wanted him. That much, at least, had been very obvious. He'd been practically looking at Viktor with stars in his eyes, that night, and he'd seemed over the moon at being so close to Viktor.

Apparently, though, Yuuri had been more intoxicated than even Viktor had realized. 

Viktor's done his share of stupid drunken shit, and he knows that everyone does or says things they don't mean when they've been drinking - but he'd thought that everything from Yuuri had been genuine. He'd thought it hadn't just been the alcohol talking. He'd thought that Yuuri had meant it all. He hadn't realized that Yuuri was so drunk he wouldn't even remember any of it.

Next time, Viktor's not going to assume that, just because someone can still break dance and pole dance like a professional, it doesn't mean that they're not hammered off their ass.

Only you can show me your true Eros, Yuuri.

The words are mortifying, looking back, and Viktor swallows a groan. If he could, he'd be curling into a ball at the shame of it. He can't move, though, with Yuuri passed out asleep on top of him. He looks even more angelic when he's sleeping than when he's awake, and it only serves to push the guilt higher.

Had Viktor... rushed Yuuri in any way? 

He'd tried to let Yuuri set the pace from pretty much the start. As soon as it became obvious that the banquet was an anomaly, as soon as it became clear that Yuuri was new to all of this, Viktor had backed off, and let Yuuri push them into every new experience, and he'd always made sure Yuuri was okay with everything, but... had he still rushed him? Especially at the start?

The first kiss they'd shared, at least, it had been Yuuri who kissed him.

He'd come back from that press release, so many months ago, and he'd been terrified, so certain that Viktor was going to turn tail and run, so convinced that he should have never gone near the word love, and Viktor had just pulled him close. He’d held him tight in the darkness of Yuuri’s room and whispered, I feel the same way about you, Yuuri, and Viktor had been shaking, he’d been so overwhelmed by the realization that this wasn't as one-sided as he'd thought it was; and Yuuri had kissed him with tears in his eyes. He'd stared at him for a few seconds before he'd craned up to try to kiss him, so clearly new at it, but so very determined to do it, anyway, and Viktor had just melted, falling further and further as they'd ended up in Yuuri's bed with Viktor on his back and Yuuri sprawled out on top of him like he had no intention of ever moving again.

It had been the best moment in Viktor's entire life. And then everything had just gotten better. Through everything that had come after - all the misunderstandings that they've worked through, all the nights spent wrapped up around each other, all the moments - both on the ice and off - that had stolen Viktor's breath away and given him a reason to keep breathing - Viktor doesn't have words for what it all means to him. 

How was he even living before Yuuri was in his life? Maybe he was existing, but not living. And then Yuuri had changed all of that.

But now, here he is. With a pit of guilt burning so violently inside his chest it's hard to breathe.

Had he... gotten too close to Yuuri, without asking first? Had he pressured him into anything, despite his best attempts not to?

The idea sits like bile in the back of his throat, the guilt enough to make his stomach heave, and he has to blink against the sudden burn behind his eyes, tears threatening to rise up and spill.

Viktor would rather hang up his skates forever than hurt Yuuri.

He's made that mistake, more than once. He's hurt Yuuri without meaning to. And he's promised himself that he's never going to do it again. 

But had he messed this up, right from the start? Does Yuuri resent him for any of it, even if he hasn't said a word? Is he just trying to let the past go, in the interest of making their present and future work?

As if hearing his thoughts, Yuuri stirs, his nose nudging against Viktor's chest as he squirms a bit, and Viktor closes his eyes and wraps his arms around him.

He won't figure this out tonight. He needs to talk to Yuuri. Maybe, in a few days, when Yuuri's done moving in, and he's had some time to rest. Viktor's not putting anything else on him until then. Until then, Viktor can just stew in this wretched mess of his own making. It’s no less than he deserves.

It's probably going to be a long time before he falls asleep, though.

- - -

Viktor must eventually fall asleep, because when he wakes up again, it's because Yuuri's mouth is on the back of his neck, and he's draped over Viktor like a twelve-ton shadow.

Viktor goes from zero to a hundred so sharply it hurts, a whimper catching in his throat as Yuuri's lips just barely graze across his skin, dragging so soft down the back of his neck it makes him shiver.

Shit. Shit.

"Mm. Sleep well?"

Yuuri's voice is deceptively casual, considering that his hand is already inching up underneath Viktor's shirt. Viktor can't do anything but let out a helpless whine and squeeze his eyes shut.

This, he still can't quite get his head around. Yuuri, going from shy and stammering and often embarrassed, to being the one who just takes Viktor apart, and does it so sweetly Viktor can barely cope with it.

Viktor's never had that before. He hadn't even known how badly he needed it. And now he doesn't know how he'd live without it. Without Yuuri, everything would be meaningless.

The thought’s barely processed before he feels himself freeze. It’s like all his fears from the night before come crashing back at once, and he realizes he’s gripping the blanket too hard.

He doesn’t want any secrets between them. He doesn’t want any lingering resentment that could ruin this. He wants Yuuri to always be honest with him. But Viktor doesn’t know how to ask.

Even through the panic, he can feel Yuuri’s lips kissing a line down his shoulder. He’s practically pinning Viktor to the mattress, making it clear that he’s not going anywhere, but his kisses are so damn gentle, each other lingering and soft against his skin, Viktor can feel the unspoken affection in every single one of them, because Yuuri loves him, Viktor knows that he does, and he’s possibly actually going to burst into tears.

What is wrong with him? Why did it take him until now to realize how much of an ass he’d been? Viktor needs to say something, because he can’t let this fester, but Yuuri is brand new, here, in this apartment and in Russia, and he wants Yuuri to just be happy right now –  he wants to curl up with him, and let him settle into his life here, and he wants to do absolutely nothing that might stress him out or make him sad, so Viktor just can’t say anything right now, he can’t –

Distantly, he realizes that Yuuri’s stopped, and Viktor feels his teeth grind. Damn. Damn, he is an idiot, he should have just said something, after all, because now Yuuri is going to think –

“Am I… doing something wrong?”

Yuuri’s voice is terribly soft, and Viktor can hear the uncertainty in it. He sounds like he kind of wants to curl into a ball and die. And Viktor can’t move quickly enough, twisting around to press his lips against Yuuri’s, resting a palm on his cheek as he kisses Yuuri as softly as he can. It takes Yuuri a few seconds, but then he relaxes into it, and Viktor feels his heart ache even worse.

It amazes him, even now, how easily Yuuri’s confidence can crack. They’re both made of steel, in some ways, but they’re both as fragile as glass in other ways, and Viktor never wants to be the reason that Yuuri doubts himself. Hell, he’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to hurt Yuuri anymore. And that’s what gets him pulling back enough to rest his forehead against Yuuri’s, both of them breathing a bit harder. It’s all he can do to breathe words against Yuuri’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, lyubov. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong, that’s not what –”

He stops, though, because Yuuri’s fingers have come up to play with his hair. His voice is still rough, still a bit shaky, but at least it doesn’t have that same achingly hesitant tone to it.

“Glad to hear it.” His breath is soft against Viktor’s mouth, and his fingers slide through his hair again. Viktor can feel himself fall even harder, especially when Yuuri raises his head to look at him. His eyes are so soft – so tender – that Viktor can barely look at him. “What’s got you so wound up, then?”

One of his thumbs dips down to brush the corner of Viktor’s mouth as he says it, and Viktor squeezes his eyes shut, a helpless rush of vulnerability scraping through every inch of his system.

How does Yuuri just do this? How does he just know how to read Viktor, and what to say?

And Viktor lets him. He’s never let anyone in like this before – hell, he’s never even wanted to let anyone in like this, he’s never even considered it – but now he needs Yuuri to never leave.

It’s terrifying. That’s what it is. Letting someone else have your heart is terrifying.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s still looking right at him, when Viktor opens his eyes. Staring at him, before his eyebrows furrow into a tiny frown, and he carefully cups his hand against Viktor’s cheek, making Viktor swallow down a whimper. “Did you want me to let it be, for now?” The words are so soft they’re going to make rattle apart, and the hand on his cheek isn’t helping, either. Neither is the way Yuuri suddenly swallows, his eyes dropping down away from Viktor’s. “I know I’m not always exactly the best at… communicating. But – you can tell me anything, okay? I… I’ll listen, I promise I will, and I’ll do my best to help, whatever it is, I’ll –”

He cuts himself off, biting down hard on his lip, and Viktor kind of wants to curl up and die.

Guilt, he suddenly realizes, is possibly the single worst emotion on the planet.

Hell, he’d take apathy – he’d take feeling nothing – over feeling like this.

His breathing has gone shaky, and he keeps his hands gentle as he finds Yuuri’s, tangling their fingers together. Yuuri’s still not looking at him, and Viktor’s done exactly what he didn’t want to do. It’s only Yuuri’s second day here, and Viktor’s already stressed him out and made him sad.

Some fiancé he is.

The thought stings right through him, and Viktor swallows through the swoop in his stomach, biting down against the burn of tears.

He could lie to Yuuri, make up something more trivial for now, but - no. He can't do that. He can’t lie to Yuuri. He doesn’t deserve that.

Hell, he deserves better than Viktor and all his insecurities, anyway.

Somehow, though, with Yuuri still staring down at the blanket like he can’t look at Viktor, Viktor manages to find his breath, his hands tightening on Yuuri’s.

“I know I can talk to you, Yuuri. I genuinely mean that, and I apologize for making you uneasy. I… I just…. I don’t know how to say what I’m… I need to ask you something, but I don’t… and you just got here, I know how tired you are, I didn’t want to do this now, I just wanted you to –”

The last thing he’s expecting is Yuuri’s lips against his forehead.

It takes Viktor a second to really process it, with the way Yuuri’s craned up on his knees to kiss him. Then, he blinks as Yuuri pulls back away, but his hand goes right back to Viktor’s cheek, and his eyes are soft and far too tender again, and dear sweet god Viktor loves this man so much.

And Yuuri doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. He just sits there and watches him, waiting for Viktor to get there in his own time, but making it clear that he’s here to listen.

Viktor takes a deep breath, digs deep for his courage, and squeezes his eyes shut.

If his previous idiocy has ruined this in any way, he’s never going to forgive himself.

“When I… first came to Japan, did… did I… rush you, in any way?”

It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever said. He can feel the tears trying to well up again.

And Yuuri doesn’t say anything. He seems to have gone very still – he barely even sounds like he’s breathing – and Viktor doesn’t know what that means, so he squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

“If I made you uncomfortable, or… or I did anything to scare you, or –”

“Viktor…”

“I just – I was trying to be what I thought you would want, I was just trying to –”

“Viktor –”

“And I – I wanted you to know that I wanted you, too, but I still should have never –”

“Viktor.”

That, finally, is enough to shut him up, his jaw snapping shut and his eyes squeezing tighter together – but there’s no anger in Yuuri’s voice, and he’s already putting his hands on either side of Viktor’s face, like he’s trying to cradle him there, and Viktor is so fucking grateful he could cry with it.

Maybe he hasn’t wrecked this? Maybe Yuuri doesn't hate him, maybe this is going to be okay, maybe –

“As kind as the concern is, my dear, no, you did nothing of the sort.”

Yuuri’s voice is very soft, but he’s telling the truth, Viktor can hear it in him, and the relief is enough to make his legs and arms feel shaky.

“You terrified me, yes, but… not in a bad way. Certainly not in the way you’re thinking of. Every time you got too close it was what I wanted, but I just… didn’t know how to cope with it. I’d wanted you for so long, and having you there, was – well. Overwhelming, to say the least.” The words drop lower, towards the end, and Viktor realizes he’s holding his breath, not even daring to exhale until Yuuri swallows. There's a quiet ache of vulnerability in the sound, and it's enough to make Viktor open his eyes, but Yuuri isn't looking at him, his cheeks gone pink and gaze firmly fixed on the blankets beneath them. “You… still are, you know. Overwhelming, I mean. You always are. I still can’t quite believe that you’re mine.”

His voice is barely audible, at the end, and he's very firmly not looking at Viktor. Viktor opens his mouth, lets it hang open for a moment, and then shuts it again.

He can't make a sound. There's no air left in the room.

Then, Yuuri flinches - barely visible, but definitely there - and Viktor can't move fast enough. His arms are shaky as he scrambles forward on his knees and wraps himself around Yuuri, pulling him as close as he can and burying his face in his hair. For half a second, Yuuri stays tense against him; and then he makes a noise that sounds almost hurt and wraps his arms around him, too, sagging against his chest, and Viktor's heart is fucking aching.

"I am." His voice doesn't sound right, the words trying to get stuck. "I am yours, Yuuri, I promise, I always will be, I'm -"

"I'm yours, too."

Yuuri barely whispers it, squeezing even tighter around Viktor, and Viktor can feel the tears burning in his eyes. He can't do anything but hold on tighter, too, pressing a desperate kiss against the top of Yuuri's head, burying his face in the mess of his hair. He can feel how hard Yuuri's heart is slamming, and he can feel the way Yuuri's shaking, and Viktor's never going to let this man go, he's going to protect him and keep him safe and take care of him forever.

The thought does something to the area behind his ribs, right around where his heart is, and Viktor squeezes his grip even tighter around Yuuri.

He'll just stay kneeling like this until Yuuri wants to move. Whatever Yuuri wants, he can can have. Anything Viktor can give him, he will, he'll always -

"And... and what about you, then?" Yuuri's still practically whispering, but there's a sudden shaky edge there, and Viktor opens his mouth, but Yuuri's still going. "I mean, are you still... upset with me? For... for trying to end this?"

For a second, Viktor's so stuck on the shake in Yuuri's voice that the words don't process correctly. Then, something inside Viktor runs cold, and the wave of protectiveness that washes through him is overwhelming.

Oh, Yuuri.

"I just... I was just trying to - I didn't mean all of this, I just - I just meant you coaching me, I swear, I wasn't trying to leave, but I still shouldn't - not like that, I shouldn't have -"

"Please don't, lyubov. I'm not upset, I promise." He's careful as he slides a hand down Yuuri's back, trying to be as gentle as he can. "I... was at the time, yes, but I understand what you were trying to do, so you don't have -"

"But -"

"I promise, Yuuri. Just - trust me, alright? I wouldn't lie to you, I promise I wouldn't -"

"I do." His voice is still very soft, but he's curling closer, tightening his grip on Viktor as some of the tension seeps out of him. "I do trust you, and - I believe you. Thank you."

There's an audible, aching relief there, like Yuuri's not even trying to hide it, and Viktor has to take a deep breath on the heels of a sudden realization that stings right through him.

"Have you been worrying about this since Barcelona?"

He can't quite keep his voice steady, though, because - it's been weeks. Almost a month since that night. How has Yuuri been carrying this in silence since then?

And when Yuuri just sighs and nods, something that sounds almost like resignation as he lets himself sag a bit harder against him, Viktor closes his eyes and presses a kiss into his hair, trying to pull him even closer. All he wants, suddenly, is to wrap up Yuuri in his arms and hide him under the covers forever, but he needs to actually find his words, here, because maybe this is a situation that they can avoid falling again into in the future, if they can just be on the same page here.

"I'm sorry, darling. That's far too long to feel like this."

"I didn't know how to... I wasn't sure -"

"You can tell me anything, too. Okay? I'll always listen, I promise I'll -"

"Okay, Viktor. I believe you." The words are still gentle, but there's a tiny smile, now, in the sound of his voice and in the feel of his mouth pressed against Viktor's chest, and Viktor can feel the remaining tension finally starting to seep of Yuuri, with how closely they're pressed together, his limbs gradually unlocking as he rests against Viktor. "And... how about, from now on, if something's wrong, or even maybe wrong, or one of us is worrying about something, we just..."

"Say something?"

"Yeah."

Viktor can't do anything about the slight amusement in his voice, but Yuuri sounds the same, and he's definitely smiling now, like just a few words from Viktor has been enough to calm him down, and oh, god, Viktor's heart is so full it's going to burst.

They're okay. They're better than okay. And - good god, Viktor is the luckiest man on the planet. His grin is getting dopier by the second, and he's possibly going to float right off the bed. There might actually be little hearts floating around his head.

And Yuuri must be able to feel him grinning, because he breathes out a soft laugh, and tightens his arms around Viktor. He sounds so relieved - and so happy - that Viktor can barely stand it.

"We're ridiculous."

His voice is lighter than Viktor's heard all morning, and Viktor carefully slides a hand down his back, his palm brushing across the soft fabric.

"Indeed we are. "

"So, so ridiculous -"

"No wonder Yuri's always giving us so much shit."

That gets another helpless little laugh out of Yuuri, and Viktor's heart turns over and then jumps, doing that painful squeezing thing that only Yuuri has ever been able to do to him. He feels a bit lightheaded, but it's probably due to a combination of relief and just how much he loves this man, so he's okay with it. Especially when Yuuri nuzzles even closer, and Viktor can't help a happy sigh, still gently sliding a hand down the curve of Yuuri's back.

He loves this man. He's never letting him go.

The thought's barely settled, warm and comfortable and overwhelming inside him, before Yuuri finally swallows and pulls back to look at him. There's a slight flush to his face, still, and he looks like he kind of wants to squirm with embarrassment, but he's still smiling, and just looking so happy that Viktor can't cope with it, and Viktor's helpless to do anything but lean in and press a kiss to the edge of Yuuri's mouth, barely even brushing against the softness of his lips.

He gets a sharp little hitch of breath for that, and the warm feeling inside him rises even higher as he pulls back and raises a hand to drag his fingers against Yuuri's bangs, falling in love all over again with the way Yuuri's blinking up at him. He looks completely overwhelmed, suddenly - the way he does whenever Viktor gets affectionate - and Viktor feels his heart swell and his lips twitch, his fingers not quite steady as he brushes Yuuri's hair out of his eyes.

"What do you want to do today then, lyubov? Your first full day here. Whatever you'd like to -"

"Right here." Yuuri's voice is very soft, and he's still blinking up at him, one of his hands creeping down to find Viktor's. "Can we just spend the day in bed?"

His fingers are tightening around Viktor's, and Viktor's just opened his mouth - of course, anything you want - when there's a scratching at the door, and he feels himself smile.

"Seems like someone else likes your idea."

He can't keep the fondness out of his voice, and Yuuri's smile is so breathtaking Viktor needs to just stare at him for a second, before he squeezes Yuuri's hand and gets to his feet. It's a matter of mere seconds to step across the room and open the door - Makkachin had been passed out asleep on the couch the night before, so Viktor had draped a blanket over her and let her rest, but now she's bounding into the room, a flurry of fluff and excited energy - and Viktor closes the door just in time to watch Makkachin all but plow Yuuri over as she jumps up on the bed. Yuuri's only response is to laugh and wrap his arms around her, and Viktor's heart is too big for his chest as he steps back to the bed.

How did he ever get this fortunate?

And it's a matter of minutes, after that, to get everyone under the covers. They end up with Viktor and Yuuri on their sides, pressed as close as they can get with Makkachin squished in between then. Judging by the happy wiggling and the little huffs of air, Makkachin's pretty much the happiest dog in the world, right now, and Viktor ends up smiling helplessly at Yuuri as he rests his head on the pillow and stares at Yuuri over Makkachin's head. It gets a small twitch of Yuuri's lips in response, and then his hand tightens around Viktor's and he squirms closer, until their foreheads are pretty much pressed together at the top of the bed, even with a bunch of wiggling happy fluffy dog still squeezed in between them.

Viktor could happily stay, just like this, right here in this moment, for the entire rest of his life.

And maybe Yuuri's thinking something similar, because his smile widens, and he's looking at Viktor in that way that Viktor can't deal with - like Yuuri thinks he hung the stars - and Viktor feels lightheaded all over again.

How is it possible to love someone this much?

He does, though. He really does.

And as Yuuri tries to squeeze closer - Makkachin, at least, doesn't seem to have any objections to being so solidly squished between them - Viktor wraps an arm around Yuuri and tugs until Yuuri's got his face pressed against Viktor's neck. They're so close they're practically breathing the same air, and when Yuuri whispers a soft, Thank you, against his neck, Viktor can't do anything but swallow and manage a ragged little, You too, lyubov, in return. It gets a soft, happy sigh out of Yuuri as he seems to completely relax against the bed, curling up around Viktor and holding tight to his hand, and Viktor's so happy it feels like his heart is floating up into the clouds somewhere.

Heaven. Here, right now - this is heaven. It's a miracle he never, ever, in his entire life, thought that he would find.

And he'll spend the rest of his life doing everything he can to make Yuuri happy.