Work Text:
He can skate his Eros program—but not as himself. He’s molded it into a story he can understand, and from there he’s been able to wear it like a coat that’s just a little too big. At times, he thinks he’s done it—that he’s finally lost himself in it.
He hasn’t. So he skates it again and again, thinking of Victor and wondering if one day, maybe, he’ll understand.
He looks up different words for love, from all languages, and so far he hasn’t found one that fits how he feels about Victor. It doesn’t fit on the spectrum between Eros and Philia, friendship love—it’s something different all together. It falls in unknown, uncharted territory, at least for him.
He tries to not let it matter. Because on some level, it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter that he can’t quite put into words in Japanese or English how Victor makes him feel. He tries to show Victor by what he does on and off the ice. He shows it in the way he’s come to accept Victor’s affectionate touches that once startled him, the way they sit comfortably in silence after a long day, the way he confesses once, in the dark, all his insecurities he’s never named to another person before. The way he kisses Victor like he cherishes him, because he does.
Victor is accepting of all these things, and kind as he always is, but Yuuri’s not sure he gets it. It’s not a common language for them, at least not yet.
One evening when he’s alone, he tries watching porn for the first time. He’s a grown, twenty-three year old man; he knows it probably shouldn’t make him blush as hard as it does. He’s open-minded too, hesitantly typing in different terms in his laptop to see what he likes.
It does nothing for him.
Yuuri’s been in a bit of a funk lately, and, of course, it doesn’t take Victor long to realize it. He cuts their practice short.
“But—”
Victor waves his hand, cutting him off. “You,” He points a finger at Yuuri, “Need to get off the ice for awhile.”
It’s enough to effectively stop Yuuri’s protest as Victor drags him out of the rink and into the city. This time he does actually buy some things, mostly because Victor points out he’s been wearing the same clothes since he was sixteen. Victor gleefully shoves scarves and jeans and jackets at him, and makes him try them all on, some more than once in different combinations.
Yuuri steps out of the dressing stall for what feels like the hundredth time and his cheeks heat as Victor gives him a once-over.
“Nice, nice,” Victor says approvingly. He rummages through the bag by his feet. “But what about olive jacket, skinny jeans, and navy scarf?”
“Victor,” Yuuri whines, and he knows how petulant he sounds but doesn’t care.
“Okay, fine, fine,” Victor laughs and claps Yuuri on the back. “Let’s pay and you can choose the next store.”
They wander for a bit, and end up in a bookstore. It’s been a long time since Yuuri picked up a book, but he used to read a lot when he first moved to America. Before he met Phichit, books were his only companions.
Yuuri ends up in the non-fiction, and glances furtively around before browsing the self-help titles. He wants to see if any of these books could give him some insight about himself.
He picks up two, one that claims to help him “get over his fear of intimacy” and another that promises to teach him how to “battle his shyness”. He tucks them both under his arm before he searches around the store for Victor, who he finds reading the back flap of a mystery novel.
“Found something?” Victor smiles brightly, and slowly eases the books from Yuuri’s death grip. “I’ll pay. My treat!”
Yuuri slowly relinquishes the books into Victor’s care. He’d feel a bit embarrassed, but tries to ignore it the best he can. Victor would have seen the titles eventually, and it’s impossible to keep anything a secret with Victor around. He has a way of dismantling all of Yuuri’s walls.
Yuuri doesn’t pay much attention as they move through the pay line, and instead scrolls through Phichit’s instagram feed. The other skater has made an instagram account for the #hamclan as he calls them, and Yuuri feels a duty to like every single photo posted, even if he still can’t tell all the hamsters a part.
It’s because of this distraction that he doesn’t glance into the bag when Victor hands his books to him. He doesn’t realize anything is different until later. They eat dinner with everyone, and then Victor decides to go for a run and Yuuri goes up to his room. He brings out the bag from their bookstore excursion and realizes, with a surprise, that there’s a third book in the bag.
It’s a kid’s book. A bunch of smiling, happy kids grace from the front of the cover. A mix-up, perhaps. Yuuri glances at the title — “Just the Way You Are!” It reads in colorful balloon letters. Curious, Yuuri opens it up. On the title page someone’s scrawled an inscription in black ink.
For you, Yuuri.
It’s true.
-Victor
Yuuri reads it. It’s pretty much exactly what the title suggests — a bright, slightly simplistic book about being who you are and loving yourself. Under other circumstances, Yuuri might be embarrassed at being given a children’s book—is his self-esteem really that bad? (He doesn’t want anyone to answer that question). But all throughout the inside, Victor’s written messages to Yuuri about why Victor likes—no, loves—him. From anyone else, Yuuri would think it’s too saccharine. Because it’s from Victor, Yuuri wants to press the pages like fragile flowers to preserve the words forever.
Yuuri waits outside for Victor to return from his run. As soon as Yuuri can see him rounding the block, he runs forward. The force of the hug he envelops Victor with topples them both backwards a little.
“I read the book,” Yuuri says before he kisses Victor with everything he’s got.
“Good,” Victor says in between kisses, “Good.”
Yuuri hauls Victor up to his room. They don’t do anything more than kiss, but for maybe the first time ever, Yuuri doesn’t feel like he has to be hesitant with how he feels. He realizes now that Victor’s become fluent in the language of small affections Yuuri’s been speaking.
A week later, Yuuri returns the other two books, both unread.
It’s Minako who firsts introduce him to the term. With the Grand Prix Final coming up so soon, he’s been in her ballet studio late at night often, going over the moments she taught him again and again. He loves being on the ice, but it’s always a performance. It has to be. The ballet studio allows him to breathe. Yuuri warms up on the bars while Minako stands in the center of the room.
“So. . .” She asks knowingly, “How are things with Victor?”
“They’re. . . Good,” Yuuri says and glances away from the mirror so he doesn’t have to see the knowing gleam in her eye anymore.
“Spill.” She says, and Yuuri tells her everything—well, almost everything—as he continues the warm-up. He leaves out the moments he wants to keep just between the two of them. And before he knows it, he ends up telling her about the weird push-and-pull he feels in his heart. How he wants to be with Victor, but not sure he wants to in that way, and he’s a grown man, something surely has to be wrong with him to look at Victor and feel a lack of that kind of desire. . . Minako’s one of the most level-headed people he knows, so it’s easier to confide in her than his own family or even Yuko. Much as he loves her, “level-headed” is not a word he associates with Yuko.
Minako shrugs. “Maybe you’re asexual. Start the routine from the top, please.”
“A—what?” Yuuri asks after he goes through the routine once for her. She moves to correct his posture.
“Asexual. A lack of sexual attraction.”
Yuuri frowns. “But I’m in love with Victor.” It’s amazing how comfortably he can say that now.
Minako smiles. “Sexual and romantic attraction aren’t the same thing. Trust me, we’ve all seen you make googly-eyes at that boy. Just something to think about.”
After they’re done, Yuuri takes a long sip from his water bottle. “How do you about all this anyway?” He asks her.
“I know things. Why do you think I’ve never married?”
“So you’re . . . “ Yuuri trails off. Minako shakes her head.
“No. Aromantic. You can keep all that love stuff,” Minako teases, “Though that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my fun.”
Yuuri’s face contorts into what he knows can only be a look of horror. Minako laughs at that before bringing him close for a hug.
“Good luck, Yuuri!” She tells him as he leaves.
He decides to take Minako’s advice and look it up. He doesn’t need anything else to worry about with the Grand Prix Final so close, but if he doesn’t give in to his curiosity he knows it will consume him.
It turns out, there’s a lot of information online. He learns about all kinds of terms he’s never heard about before. It’s when he comes across the term of demisexual that the light bulb goes off. He wonders if. . .
It makes a lot of sense, he decides. The more he’s felt more affection for Victor romantically, the more physical he’s allowed their relationship to become. He’s never wanted that with anyone else, not even during his teenage crush on Yuko.
And maybe one day he will want that with Victor. Maybe there will be a turning point. It could happen tomorrow, or it could happen a year from now. Or maybe it won’t at all, and maybe that’s okay because it doesn’t mean he has to second-guess his love for Victor any longer.
It’s still hard to talk about, but the excitement over having something, anything, to finally describe himself makes it much easier for him to tell Victor. He talks about it at length while Makkachin sits between them. Victor reaches over the large poodle to give Yuuri a hug.
“I’m happy for you,” Victor says, before kissing Yuuri on the forehead. As always, Yuuri melts into it.
After his realization, Yuuri starts paying more attention to how he feels at Victor’s physical tenderness. It’s not hard to see the steady progress of how far they’ve come, from Yuuri shying away from these touches to embraces them to often instigating them.
His desire isn’t like flipping a switch to turn on a light. It’s more like slowly and steadily stoking a fire that’s strong enough to burn throughout the night.
Victor allows him to set the pace, always. He never pushes or prods. . . At least, not in anyway Yuuri doesn’t like. Sometimes he needs Victor to take the first step, just to get him out of his own head. It’s true in his figure skating and it’s just as true in their relationship.
Yuuri doesn’t get gold at the Grand Prix Final, but his silver medal feels like an accomplishment all on its own. He loses to Phichit, and there’s no other skater on the ice he’d rather lose to. After setting a new world record in his short program, Yurio falls hard during the free skate—but still manages to come in third. He scowls as he receives bronze, but Yuuri later sees Victor talking to him in hushed tones and both of them know the kid is going places.
After he receives his medal, Victor hugs him and talks animatedly about how proud he is. Yuuri might not have won gold, but he feels like he’s won something even better.
“So? What next?” Victor asks when they crash in their hotel room after the banquet.
Yuuri glances up at the ceiling. “I’m twenty-four. I might not have much longer. . . But I think I might have another year left in me.” His days are numbered, but for now, there’s still a little time left.
Victor squeals and shakes Yuuri’s shoulder. “I was hoping you’d say that! I was thinking next year we can add in another quad salchow, you’ve gotten much better at those. . .”
Victor’s happiness as he rattles off ideas is infectious, and it’s not hard for Yuuri to keep up his good mood on the plane ride back to Japan.
Once they’re back, Victor and Makkachin officially move into Yuuri’s room. Victor starts talking about a wedding, but Yuuri shakes his head.
“No. I know what you meant about marrying after I got a gold medal, but. . . “He takes a deep breath. “I still want that.”
Victor doesn’t seem fazed at Yuuri turning down the idea in the slightest. In fact, the sly smile he gives make Yuuri think Victor knew what Yuuri would say all along.
They practice, and they practice, and they practice some more. Victor choreographs another program for him. In private, they choreograph together something different entirely. Soon Yuuri realizes he wants more. Falling in bed together goes much the same way as the rest of their relationship has been: a little unsure at times, but always something that bolsters Yuuri’s spirit, instead of depleting it.
“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs in the dark.
Victor reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp, casting them both in a warm yellow light.
“Is this okay?” He asks, “I want to see you.”
Yuuri answers with a kiss. Victor cradles Yuuri’s head and looks at him with an expression that might be awe. Yuuri wonders if the open adoration in Victor’s gaze is a reflection of Yuuri’s expression. He feels like it could be.
Piece by piece, the clothes come off.
And as they carefully map each other in the twilight, Yuuri knows that they’ve built something to last.