After writing The One in St. Petersburg, I had the strong urge to write a fic that shows how Yuuri also supports Victor. In the Domestic Life series, this occurs following the "then" portion of Happy Father's Day, Vitya!

I hope everyone is able to enjoy this slice of fluff, love and comfort.


Summer in Hasetsu usually brought excessive heat and unpredicted rain storms while also carrying the hopeful, lingering scents of spring flowers and ocean breeze in the air. The smells of home, Victor mused, as he rested his chin on his folded knees watching the waves crash onto the sand. Makkachin excitedly ran the shoreline, seemingly as happy as Victor was to return to the familiar beach.

He had many homes throughout his lifetime. Some were comprised of fear and anger, while others were built on foundations of expectations and obligations. Hasetsu was none of these things. This town, this beach, was a symbol of every good and honest piece of Victor's life. A family who had accepted him without question, opening their home and their hearts to him from the first day he had stepped through the inn doors. Friends who laughed with him and teased him, knocking him directly from his pedestal to finally be seen as part of the group, instead of the center of it.

And a man who had taught him everything there was to know about life and love.

"Yuuri," Victor whispered, a worshiping sound that would have caused his love's cheeks to flush and his eyes to sparkle. Even after a year of being in each other's lives, Yuuri's honest reactions to all of Victor's affections still stunned Victor, leaving his heart a throbbing mass of never-ending love. It was here, in this very spot, that Yuuri had asked him to be nothing but himself.

It was here that Victor's life had changed forever.


The feelings of home flooded Yuuri's senses as he rolled over on the soft mattress, the smell of Victor's pillow mingling with the smells of the onsen. His entire body relaxed into the feeling, absorbing the joy and peace that it brought him.

It was their second morning waking up at the inn and only the beginning of their vacation. Otabek and Yuri were also there, stumbling off together after their raucous pillow fight the night before. Why one of Yuuri's fans had insisted on sending him an entire box of pillows was beyond him, but the result had been hilarious. Their war had taken hours, escalating into strategies and rules until they were all left beaten to a pulp. Yuuri had never seen Yuri or Otabek laugh so hard, and his heart squeezed with happiness as he clung to his pillow.

Victor's idea of inviting Otabek to join them had been a stroke of genius. They had been eating breakfast, scanning for plane tickets, when Victor had calmly explained why he believed Otabek was so important for Yuri. Victor saw so much of himself in Yuri, and it had deeply disturbed him that Yuri would eventually follow in Victor's footsteps. Neglecting life, and love, hadn't served Victor well, and he didn't want that to happen to Yuri. "Determination is isolation," Victor had said, pulling Yuuri's phone from his hand to dial Otabek's number. Victor's determination for Yuri to have a best friend made Yuuri fall in love with him all over again.

Returning to sleep was impossible once Yuuri had let his thoughts travel to Victor. The overwhelming happiness that filled his chest also made him restlessly crave the touch of his fiancé. Touch had never been a sensation Yuuri had pursued, but with Victor, it was an always present need, like hunger and thirst.

Pushing from the bed, Yuuri noted Makkachin's fluffy absence as well. They could have easily gone for an early morning run, attempting to the beat the summer heat that would take over as the sun rose higher in the sky. In his heart, Yuuri knew that even if they had run, there was only one place he would find Victor this morning.

Dragging clothes onto his body and lacing up his tennis shoes, Yuuri set out at a jogging pace, ready to embrace another day with the love of his life.


The jog to the beach was so natural that Yuuri's mind could do it without conscious effort. As he approached the sand, a familiar stretch of beach that they affectionately called theirs, Yuuri saw Victor's curled figure highlighted by the morning sun. He would never be over the beautiful grace that existed around Victor, a halo of chaos and perfection that made Victor the most important person in Yuuri's world. It wasn't that Victor was perfect, but he was perfect for Yuuri and that's all that mattered.

Closing the distance between them, Yuuri studied the small smile on his love's face, paired with the sadness glinting in his eyes. Reading people was not Yuuri's specialty, but reading Victor had quickly become one of his favorite challenges. A challenge he took on with more effort than any jump he had ever performed. Sliding down to sit next to him, Yuuri smiled as Victor's smile widened.

"I knew you would find me." Victor spoke without turning his head, eyes focused on the water but observing Yuuri in his periphery. Bed head still tussled the impossible soft black hair, and sleep lingered over Yuuri's soft brown eyes. His Yuuri was quietly beautiful and all of the feelings he had been toying with came stumbling to the surface. "I was thinking…" his voice trailed off as Victor reached a hand out to join it with Yuuri's. When the warmth of Yuuri's body settled against his side, Victor sighed into the comfort.

"I want to hear it all," Yuuri whispered, pressing a kiss to Victor's shoulder before resting his temple over the lip-warmed spot.

The lump in Victor's throat grew to a stifling size. Yuuri never forced him to talk, but once Victor began, Yuuri never forced him to stop either. Whether it was a mundane topic like Makkachin's shots or a story from the local news, or a work-related topic of costumes and programs, or simply a rambling mess of Victor's feelings, Yuuri listened to all of it with eager attentiveness. He made Victor feel like every word he spoke held importance. No one had ever listened to him the way Yuuri did, without ulterior motive or corrupt motivation. Yuuri listened simply because he was interested in everything Victor had to say, and it made Victor feel valued in a way that was impossible to describe.

"I think we should get married here," Victor forced the words around the emotional clog in his throat. When Yuuri hummed to encourage him to continue, Victor smiled, resting his chin against Yuuri's disheveled hair. "Do you remember that day that we sat here? When I asked you what you wanted me to be to you?"

"I remember everything," Yuuri whispered, making Victor's heart jump in his chest. Yuuri wasn't the openly romantic type, although Father's Day had been an incredible surprise, but his simple gestures always made Victor's heart skip a few beats.

"That day changed my whole life." He let the words fall, words that he had been meaning to say for so long but could never quite find the courage to do so. "Everyone always wanted me to fit a role. Be the perfect son. Be the perfect skater. Represent Russia. Victor the playboy. Victor the living legend. They were all different versions of me, masks that fit perfectly over the face that no one wanted to see. But you…" Victor felt the tears prickle his eyes, helpless and unwilling to stop them as he paused only to take a breath. "You wanted me. You wanted the Victor that was hidden away, tucked from public view. You didn't want the idol, or the playboy, or the living legend. You wanted me. No one ever wanted me before." Dropping his head to his knees, Victor twisted to look at Yuuri, tears falling as he watched their mirror images trail over Yuuri's cheeks. "It wouldn't be until later that I realized you didn't remember the banquet. That day on the beach I was pushing you because I couldn't find a role that would make you love me, I thought you had pushed me away because I didn't live up to your expectations. Then, you tore those assumptions to pieces, asking me not to fill a role at all."

Yuuri could feel every heartbeat thudding in his chest. Every time he was convinced he couldn't love Victor any more than he did, Victor found a way to prove him wrong. It appeared that his love for Victor was an exponentially growing force, and the happiness rippled through his body at this realization. Bending forward, Yuuri kissed Victor on the forehead. "To be fair, I was quite a fan of yours. But I like this you better." Yuuri chuckled when Victor did, resuming his place on Victor's shoulder.

"A fan, yes, but even then you weren't above having opinions and criticisms," Victor chuckled again, watching his favorite pink hue appear over Yuuri's cheeks. "I hung the posters, but Mari translated all those little notes. If I had you around in those early years, my step sequences would have been out of this world."

Somehow Yuuri had convinced himself that Victor didn't know what the tiny scribbles on the corner of the posters meant. In the back of his mind, he always knew one of his family members would have translated the notes if asked, but he never thought it would be Mari who would betray him, "I, well…" Yuuri shrugged sheepishly, smiling at Victor with his eyes downcast.

"I love it," Victor ran his fingers over Yuuri's cheek. "I love that even though you looked up to me, you had ideas for improvement. No one but Yakov has ever cared that much, and he has a vested interest in my winning." He watched the path of his fingers over Yuuri's cheek, reveling in the soft, warm skin. His Yuuri. His Yuuri who called Victor on his bullshit, who pushed him to be himself, who loved Victor even when he was a human disaster. "Thank you," Victor could barely get the words out, loving devotion closing his throat to a more detailed explanation.

Yuuri would understand though. In the same way that Yuuri understood when the world turned dark without explanation. In the same way that Yuuri knew when Victor needed to be held and reassured that the depressive episode would pass and that Yuuri would be there through all of it. His Yuuri, who knew Victor better than anyone ever had and loved him in spite of all that knowledge. They weren't perfect, but they were puzzles pieces; two intricate wholes who fit together to make a beautiful masterpiece of love and imperfection.

Unlacing their hands, Yuuri ran his flat palm over Victor's back, tugging at the firm waist to pull Victor partially into his lap. Sometimes when Victor's thoughts were circulating, it helped to make gentle contact. Everything he had shared with Yuuri had been with a positive light, meaning that all the most severe negative thoughts had passed through before Yuuri had reached the beach. Running gentle fingers through Victor's hair, Yuuri silently acknowledged this without pressing for details.

Sighing into the touch, Victor draped his arms over Yuuri's knees, letting his body relax. "What would I do without you, Yuuri?" It was a thought that had dangerously been skating figure eights in his mind, especially watching Yuri blossom into friendship with Otabek. If Victor had learned anything through his early stages with Yuuri, it was that friendship was equally as important as love. Yuuri was his best friend and the love of his life, and he wanted at least half of that for Yuri while the boy was still young enough to be influenced by it. Victor would be damned if he let Yuri repeat Victor's mistakes, no matter how many plane tickets he had to buy from St. Petersburg to Almaty.

"Well, for one, you would have less laundry to do," Yuuri felt Victor's chuckle against his knees, "you wouldn't have someone to share Makkachin with, and-"

"I would still be living in a lifeless bubble thinking that was how life should be," Victor's hushed sentiment cut off Yuuri's teasing. He appreciated his fiancé's humor, as it was another tool Yuuri used to reach through the brain fog in Victor's head.

"Same," Yuuri said, curling over Victor to hug him fiercely. "I guess…" Yuuri felt his own emotions beginning to spill over. "I guess that's true love, right? We rescued each other." Laughter filled the heated air around them as Victor tackled Yuuri to the ground. "And sand everywhere. That seems to be part of our story as well." Yuuri smiled up at Victor, brushing the bangs from his forehead.

"Then a beach wedding it is," Victor paused in his thought to kiss Yuuri thoroughly. "I knew I was right with the idea."

"Victor I'm-always-right Nikiforov strikes again," Yuuri teased, flicking Victor on the nose before pecking a quick kiss to the same spot.

"Soon to be, Victor I'm-always-right Katsuki-Nikiforov, thank you very much!" Victor stole the response from Yuuri's lips with the emotional press of his own.

Brown fur appeared in a blurry rush as Makkachin descended on their pile, clacking their noses together and making them both roll over in groans. Pushing from the ground, Victor reached a hand down to yank Yuuri to his feet, toppling a cheerful Makkachin to the side. "Come on," Victor wrapped his arm over Yuuri's shoulders, "let's go home."

Together they left their spot on the beach, hips bumping as they joyfully began discussing all of the logistics of a beach wedding in Hasetsu.