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Victor had made some risky, spontaneous decisions in his life. He’d made a career out of surprising people after all, and he had paused his career to secretly fly to Japan to coach a sexy skater he barely knew. That had turned out spectacularly well, as proven by the fact he was coming home to the St Petersburg apartment he shared with Yuuri Katsuki, the very embodiment of eros, spectacular human being, Victor’s fiancé and personal muse.
Victor still wasn't entirely sure how he’d pulled that off.
He was sneaking into the apartment - stepping over the creaking board and trying to close the door ever so quietly. Because while he’d had very good luck with impulsive choices, this latest one might get him in trouble with the love of his life. If he had just a few minutes to figure out how to present it, everything be fine. He could always strip naked, that generally derailed any argument. Naked was his superpower, that and quad jumps.
Impulsive decisions that with real risk were new. He never had much in his life he couldn't imagine losing. Now he had a fiancé he’d dragged away from family and home into a country where he didn't speak the language. Yuuri had traded a home in a spa - with the best hot tubs ever - for a cold Russian winter, a dysfunctional skate team, and Victor himself … a skater who was maybe (probably) past his prime with a history of occasionally disastrous coaching decisions.
Victor eased the door shut, staring at the gold ring on his finger until he heard the lock click. Relief turned into startlement as his soulmate chimed in behind him, “Vitya? Where have you been? Makkachin is still at the groomers and I had to convince Yurio not to paint leopard spots on his skates. Mila was no help …”
Victor turned slowly, still wrapped in the layers of winter wear required (even for Russians) to survive winter weather.
“Vitya? Victor. What's wrong? You’re scaring me.”
—
Yuuri watched his fiancé begin to unwind the layers of scarves and mufflers and coat. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. Victor usually sparkled everywhere he went, laughing and joyful like some graceful spirit of mirth and chaos. Right now he was hunched in his Armani overcoat, unwinding the sky blue scarf (that matched his eyes perfectly) with an unusual reluctance. Victor was not someone who delayed in removing clothing. Ever.
“Leopard spots? I thought Yurio had decided tiger stripes were superior?” Victor unbuttoning the coat without making eye contact, his voice a mildly strained. He turned a bit towards the wall as though he couldn't stand to look at his fiancé. Yuuri felt himself pale, crossing his arms against a sudden chill.
Yuuri still couldn't believe he’d caught Victor’s eye. When the performance or alcohol induced confidence faded he was sure Victor would change his mind. Moving in together must have been the breaking point. Probably the nagging about dirty dishes. Or maybe Victor realized that launching his comeback was far more important than coaching an anxiety riddled, dime-a-dozen Japanese skater.
Well, Yuuri would just get on the plane back to Japan, get Victor to mail his belongings, and cry his heart out once he was home.
“Yuuri, my heart, don't look at me like that!” The panic in Victor’s voice made Yuuri realize he hadn't heard a word said in a few minutes. A deep breath. No one breaks up after calling someone ‘my heart’. Probably. Maybe. He met Victor’s impossible blue eyes, and Victor looked away first.
Victor was staring at the floor, holding his unbuttoned coat closed. Even though the apartment wasn't exactly warm (it was never warm in this country) he still must be overheating. “Remember that poodle rescue? The one that wanted an autographed poster of Makka and us for their fundraiser?”
“Poodle rescue?” Victor had met someone else at the poodle rescue. “You mailed them that photo weeks ago.”
Victor colored, and a bead of sweat rolled down his throat. Yuuri vividly remembered licking a similar drop from Victor’s neck last night when they ….
“I maybe forgot to put it in the mail. I found it in my locker this morning.”
“Oh, Victor. They were counting on us!” Scolding, again. He couldn't help himself. No wonder Victor had found someone else.
“I know! So I went to take it over in person today, that's why I wasn't there to help you with Yurio. Though if I'd known about the skate painting party I would have asked you to get me some gold paint for yours because you know how I love to kiss gold.”
It appeared Victor was babbling. Maybe he was just worried that Yuuri would be upset about the picture not getting mailed? Clearly Yuuri was nagging too much. Being sweet and solicitous might help. Yuuri needed to cuddle his husband-to-be to get passed the panic and adrenaline. “Victor, please. Take off your coat and sit down. You must be broiling.” A hand on the soft wool coat over Victor’s shoulder, coupled with wide beseeching eyes, should melt his fiancé like ice in whiskey.
Face inscrutable, Victor opened his coat, and from an interior pocket pulled out a small, curly, fluffy … “I gave them the picture but I didn't leave empty handed.”
It was a poodle. A toy poodle in silver grey barely a shade darker than Victor's own moonlight locks. The pup yawned, then looked around alertly.
“Oh.” Yuuri felt there was something profound that needed to be expressed here. Something that would cement this as a defining moment of their relationship. Instead he said again, “Oh.”
Somehow Victor's coat had moved to the closet. Victor placed the tiny dog on the floor. She began industriously sniffing every surface and exploring. “I know I should have asked you first, but they said no one would adopt her because of her eye. Makkachin is getting older and I know you still miss your Vicchan. Your other Vicchan. Not that she’s a replacement. And Makka is immortal. But she needed a home and she’s little enough she could travel with us in the airplane cabin.”
Yuuri’s brain had disconnected, entirely absorbed in watching the tiny perfect amazing spectacular little dog try to drag one of Makka’s favorite chew toys across the floor. It was slightly bigger than she was, but she was gaining ground. Then something Victor said sunk in.
“Her eye?”
Victor scooped up the poodle, leaving the toy behind much to her dismay. Victor cuddled her protectively to his side, then turned her to show Yuuri her face. She had, in fact, only one good eye. The other was sewn shut, giving her a permanent wink. It didn't seem to bother her at all, as she hung between Victor’s long, strong fingers and surveyed the room. She had the kind of absolute confidence that was Victor’s trademark on the ice.
“Some sort of infection, they said. She’s okay now but she’ll never be perfect.”
Yuuri looked at the little silver winking face, and then something occurred to him. He scrambled for his phone. Victor watched him sadly as he flipped through saved videos, so many clips, until he found the one he wanted. “Look, Vitya. She must be fated to be a part of our family.” On the screen, Victor gave a signature wink and grin to the camera. “She already has your smile.”
Victor looked up from the phone, a familiar lopsided grin on his face. “You aren't mad?”
Victor, Yuuri considered, was an idiot. “No, I don't mind. I wish you had told me first so I didn't think you were about to break up with me.”
“You, my star, are an idiot.” Victor said, stepping forward so that the pup was close enough to lick Yuuri’s chin and Victor was close enough to grab Yuuri’s shoulder and squeeze. “I would not, I will never, break up with you. That’s what these rings mean! Us, forever.”
“Us, forever,” Yuuri grinned, “with poodles. Do you think Makkachin will mind?” They settled onto the couch in an overlapping cuddly heap.
“A sweet young girlfriend? Not likely. He puts up with Yurio’s cat already.” Snuggling his fiancé and his new dog, Yuuri felt everything was alright with the world.
“So, what’s her name?” Victor smelled like wool, and sweat, and cologne. They needed to pick up Makka from the groomers soon, but there was time for a little extra curricular activity first.
“Her name? Ah.” Yuuri could hear the blush in Victor’s voice, even though he was tucked under Victor's chin. “I thought we could call her Suki.”
“Suki. Like ‘Katsuki’?” Yuuri snickered.
“It is one of the best names in the whole world.” Victor replied with dignity. “Though she’s not a cat, so she’d be Dog-Suki.”
“Dog-Suki.” The dog in question was happy to return to exploring as Yuuri pressed his soon-to-be-husband back into the couch, climbing into his lap. “That is a terrible pun.”
“You love it.” Victor replied, sending questing hands up Yuuri’s back to tangle in his hair.
“Mm.” Yuuri wriggled closer, brushing his lips across Victor’s. “I love you.”
“Of course you do. You have excellent taste.” Suki barked sharply in agreement, just before both skaters dissolved into laughter.