i was yours before i knew (and you have always been mine too)

by: tg

summary: "Kingyo sukui," Yuuri says, smiling. "You have to scoop goldfish with a paper scoop. I don't know if you're patient or calm enough for that."

The competitive thing that dwells within him rises up out of its dormancy and he narrows his eyes at Yuuri. "Is that a challenge?"

"Oh," he says softly, his eyes glinting, "I don't think it's going to be much of a challenge for me at all."

warnings: depression

an: this is a viktuuri flower shop universe alteration / au wherein they never meet at the banquet in sochi. viktor is still out looking for his inspiration, and yuuri has gone back home to help out rather than continue with the costly life of a figure skater. they still manage to cross paths, because of course they do.

this was done for the yurionicebigbang event on tumblr in tandem with my artist partner rynyn! this fic is very important to me so pls consider taking a few moments to review!

originally posted november 2017

iii. summer

i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. - e.e. cummings

June sinks into his bones the same way winter does when he's back home — it gets in deep, right into the very marrow of him, and it stays. Only, instead of the harshness and the cold and the monochrome of dirty snow and white, sickly skies, there is softness and light and effusive, vivid colors and a sky so blue Viktor can hardly believe it's real.

(Like the leap of Viktor's heart when Yuuri looks up from his work and smiles at him, dimples in his cheeks and eyes alight with happiness.

Like the ebullient warmth that blooms in his chest at the sound of Yuuri's laughter when he's surprised into it.

Like the way his stomach jolts and jitters whenever he thinks back to that day among the cherry blossoms or that evening standing on the observation deck, the heat of Yuuri's body in relation to his own in the midst of those private moments.

Like the way he looks at his own reflection in the evenings, utterly besotted and blushing with happiness and the effervescence of the butterflies that linger after every visit, and realizes he's never seen himself look that way.)

It's Yuuri laughing at him as he's trying to sing along to J-Pop that filters through the shop from the little radio that sits on the back counter, and the sweet perfume of flowers that sinks into all of the clothes he'd brought with him, and escaping the heat of the summer in teh shade of Hasetsu Castle during Yuuri's lunch breaks.

It's being caught in the waning shadow of Ice Castle and not feeling the immediate need to escape anymore — instead, it's looking in the clear glass windows and seeing he ghosts of a new routine being built, and wondering if Yuuri's hand in his would be warm as they glide across the ice.

June is the realization that he's been sleepwalking through his life for the last twenty years — he had to have been, there's no other explanation for the way he feels so goddamn alive, no other reason to suddenly be so aware of the blood in his veins or the beat of his heart or the gentle prickle of the sun kissing his skin.

That's what June in Hasetsu feels like.

That's what being with Yuuri feels like.

(It makes him wonder what he'd look like now, out on the ice, donning these newfound feelings like a second skin.

Hm.)

"Hey, Yuuri," Viktor says, cutting through the ambient noises of the two of them huddled together in the flower shop, picking out of each other's bento boxes (that Yuuri had packed!). The little sausage octopuses — octosausages? sausapuses? — are impossibly cute, so he steals as many from Yuuri as he can get away with.

(Yuuri raps his knuckles with his chopsticks when he notices what Viktor is doing, but he's got this soft, soft, unbearably fond look in his pretty doe eyes instead of annoyance at Viktor's petty thieving; it's a Look, trademarked and copyrighted, and it pulls at him like the moon pulls at the ocean.

Viktor imagines Yuuri humming in his kitchen and making food with Viktor in mind — like he did with the bento he'd so sweetly placed in front of him this afternoon, with red cheeks and steady hands — but the breadth of the feeling is too much to quantify, too big and too warm to be contained or conducted.

He's learning to love and embrace every skip and stutter of his heart.)

"Steal my food again, Nikiforov," Yuuri warns, "and see if I ever bring you food again."

"Oh, no! Viktor puts his chopsticks down carefully on the piece of paper Yuuri had folded for him. He throws his hand up to his face a la Scarlett O'Hara, going for his most dramatique impersonation, pulling out all the stops. "Katsuki Yuuri has doomed me to a lifetime of starvation and solitude! I'll never recover!"

Yuuri snorts. "You've survived for twenty-seven years."

"I've no idea how I managed," Viktor says, and really, he doesn't. The difference between Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri's Viktor is stark, and perhaps more telling than he wants to own up to.

He'd never really known how much of his story wasn't his, but he's finding out now.

Yuuri must sense something more to his words — maybe it's the way his voice shakes, almost imperceptible, or maybe it's the way his smile has turned plastic at the edges. He puts his own chopsticks down and, with the determination of a soldier given marching orders, covers Viktor's hand with his own warm palm.

Viktor, eternal sap that he is, turns his hand in Yuuri's and twines their fingers together until he can feel the encroaching chill melt away again.

"Don't worry," he says, squeezing Yuuri's fingers. "I can still be saved. I distinctly remember you offering to feed me your mother's katsudon."

Yuuri blushes and laughs and, gosh, Viktor is a doomed, smitten man. He finds himself leaning closer, nothing but a few inches of empty space to separate them.

"O-okay, but fair warning: once you try her cooking you'll never want anything else."

"Oh, I don't think that's true." His gaze flickers to Yuuri's mouth — his chapped lips and the perfect dip of his cupid's bow — and thinks, I want you plenty.

(See, Viktor has been thinking about kissing Katsuki Yuuri for a while now — he wants to say 'forever' but he also knows that's not accurate, he and Yuuri had only met a few months ago after all. But it feels like forever to him.

He's been thinking about taking Yuuri's face in both of his hands and holding him there so gently, of brushing his thumbs along the apples of his chubby cheeks. He's been thinking of what Yuuri's mouth might feel like on his — chapped, probably, a little rough but so warm and so pliant. He's been thinking — daydreaming, really — about how Yuuri kisses, imagines him to be soft and a little hesitant, growing into the boldness that peaks out every so often and surprises Viktor in the best of ways. Imagines the way he'd tilt his head just so to align them better, imagines the soft little exhale and the puffs of warm breath on his cheek as Yuuri breathes life into him.

It's getting harder and harder to think of anything else.)

Yuuri turns pink and distracts himself with stealing back the sausopus currently captured between Viktor's chopsticks. "My mother has been asking when I'm going to bring you over," he concedes.

"Yuuri! You've told your mother about me?!"

"Yep. She kept asking why I always come home looking annoyed and exhausted, so I told her it was you."

"Savage."

Viktor realizes in the early part of July that he doesn't actually know what to wear to a festival or even what a festival entails, exactly. He spends a solid week agonizing over this, because on the one hand he wants to not only learn about Yuuri's culture and heritage, but to live inside it and experience it as properly as he can as someone not native to Japan; but on the other hand a loud part of him aches to surprise Yuuri, to make his eyes light up and paint his cheeks pink.

He calls Chris halfway through the second week of July which only results in mild teasing instead of a resolution of his dilemma. He doesn't think Yakov would know, (nor does he think Yakov would take his call but that's neither here nor there), and he doesn't really want to key Mila, Georgi, or, god forbid, Yuri in on his location; as much as he loves his skating family back home, there's a reason he didn't tell anyone where he was going when he left.

That leaves Yuuko, Yuuri's coworker (and possibly ex-girlfriend? he should look into that) and, apparently, former rinkmate.

(He finds this out one day when Yuuri is busy in the back room and Yuuko has a devilish look in her eyes; Viktor already knows Yuuri skated but he is curious and Yuuko is an invaluable font of knowledge when it comes to younger Yuuri.)

He barely even has to ask before her eyes light up and she agrees, mumbling something about repaying Yuuri for all the babysitting he's done over the last year, which Viktor thinks he's misheard because Yuuko does not look old enough – or stressed enough – to have a full-time job and kids.

(Boy is he wrong about that . He meets the triplets and her husband when they meet up for their shopping date and he remains in awe of her for the rest of the day.)

"So there are three types of clothes you can wear to these things," she says as they amble toward the old district. "Yukata are pretty much standard for festivals – they're the full-bodied ones that come in different colors and patterns, sort of like kimono – but jinbei are becoming more popular with both genders. They're also cooler in warmer weather like this, but they're plainer. And of course there's western clothing too –"

Viktor immediately vetoes that as a non-option with an emphatic shake of his head.

"Or not!" she says, laughing. "Well, if you really want to impress Yuuri, we can go all-out and get you a yukata. That's what he'll be wearing, after all."

There's a glint in her eye – something laughing, suggestive, like she knows that Viktor is suddenly overcome with mental images of Yuuri looking beautiful in a yukata, and then overcome with useless jealousy at the fact that she knows what Yuuri looks like in a yukata – but before he can comment she steers him into a long, narrow shop filled floor to ceiling with shelves on which folded fabrics of all colors and patterns sit neatly and the hunt for the perfect color and pattern is on.

It takes ages to find a yukata that fits him in height, and even longer to find one in a design that he likes and that Yuuko approves of, but Viktor knows the moment he finds The One because Yuuko's eyes light up, and there's a fine dusting of pink settling into her cheeks and this satisfied grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

It's a muted shade of dark green, kind of earthy, and there's a faint pattern of fish imprinted on it in crisp, white lines. Yuuko worms her way into the dressing room with him, modesty forgotten, and ties him up like a present with a wide belt she calls an obi. When she's all finished he looks into the mirror and barely recognizes himself – the lines of yukata lend a certain strength and grace to his long, pale neck, and there's something beautiful about his body hidden beneath the folds of fabric.

"Wow," he says quietly.

"Yuuri is going to lose his mind," Yuuko agrees.

Viktor waits for Yuuri in front of the flower shop, because even though he's been in Hasetsu for some time now this is still the fixed point on which he centers himself.

Yuuko is working away inside, shaping an arrangement of vibrant purple statice and sunflowers in her hands. So far every time she's noticed him so much as glance in her direction she's dropped whatever she's been working on to give him an exaggerated wink and head nod and two thumbs up. He's tried to avoid her catching him, but he glances in his reflection to fix his hair and sees her drop the whole bouquet to the counter in her haste to – encourage? reassure? wait, does he look nervous? is that why she's doing this? he must, oh god, he must look pathetic.

Viktor turns away from the shop front and tugs at his sash.

He's nervous.

Viktor doesn't get nervous for performances – not for a while, at least. Not anymore.

He used to, he thinks. Probably. At some point in his career when there'd still be a question as to whether he'd make the podium. But that uncertainty had evaporated with each new medal he'd collected, and the questions of 'if' he would win ceased to become questions at all. And Viktor is used to being the center of attention in social situations, too – schmoozing with sponsors, living up to the hype of the Living Legend moniker that drapes across his shoulders just a little too wide, like an untailored jacket. It's not like this is his first date, either.

Anyway. Viktor doesn't get nervous before performances, but here he is, standing in front of Yuuri's flower shop in his brand new yukata with the folding lines still fresh, waiting for his date and fidgeting . He'd arrived stupidly early and Yuuko, bless her heart, had come out from inside just to fix his obi and make sure he hadn't made any grave mistakes in dressing himself. She'd fussed a bit, her eyes shining bright, and he'd had a momentary glimpse into the future when her girls will be old enough to go to festivals on their own. He imagines her to be the kind of mom to take a thousand photos to scrapbook later.

Mercifully, Yuuri shows up not long after that, but the relief is short-lived.

Yuuri is breathless and flushed like he's been hurrying to meet Viktor even though he's still five minutes early. It's absurd, Viktor thinks faintly, that Yuuri is the one in motion but it's Viktor who's having a hard time catching his breath. It's been stolen from his chest, snatched right out by the way Yuuri smiles sweetly when he catches sight of Viktor standing there. It's absurd, because Yuuri is stunning, absolutely gorgeous like this, wrapped in a dark blue yukata that compliments the frames of his glasses and his wide brown eyes. There's a faint pattern too which melts into the background, broken up by thin blue and white stripes. Unlike Viktor's, Yuuri's yukata is closed tight near the base of his throat and reveals nothing except the width and strength of his shoulders through the cloth and the slightest taper of his pudgy waist. His hair is slicked back instead of loose and wild, and Viktor is sort of concerned about the loss of his motor functions because he can't seem to do much else besides suck in oxygen and gape like a fish at the vision before him.

Viktor feels severely outclassed, and he's not even remotely displeased about it.

By the time Yuuri gets close enough Viktor has recovered, just a little. He reaches out and touches Yuuri's tanned wrist, and then his hand with soft and reverent fingertips, and Yuuri looks up at him and gives him a crooked little grin, and Viktor aches .

" Wow ," he says, and clears his throat. "You look beautiful."

Yuuri flushes deeper and opens his mouth like he wants to refute it, but he closes it instead for a moment before saying a little shakily, "Viktor. You too."

Viktor preens a bit, which makes Yuuri roll his eyes, and then offers his arm to his date. Yuuri grins at him and takes it, and Viktor is content to let him lead the way.

(With his free hand Viktor turns slightly and gives Yuuko an enthusiastic thumbs up, delighting in the way she beams at him through the window.

"Viktor, what are you doing?" Yuuri asks curiously. Viktor smiles at him and covers Yuuri's hand, settled in the crook of Viktor's elbow, with his.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, my Yuuri!"

Viktor tries not to take great pleasure in the way Yuuri flusters at that.)

They wind through the streets that Yuuri has grown up with, streets that Viktor hadn't even known to explore. Yuuri visibly nervous; he runs his hands through his hair and touches his neck a lot, and his body against Viktor's is rigid. He is a hypocrite in the worst of ways, because god, he's nervous too, but he wants Yuuri to have fun with him. So he does what he does best, which is talk.

"Hmm. This reminds me of the time Makkachin got out of my apartment. I was new to St Petersburg at that time and I had to chase her down. I gotso lost!"

Yuuri laughs and laughs at Viktor's past misery, and the sound is as beautiful now as it was the first time Viktor heard it. He thinks it probably always will be. Gradually, like a flower, Yuuri opens up, grows less stiff. He responds by pointing out various spots along the way, telling Viktor about the time he'd climbed a tree for Takahara-san because her cat had been stuck part of the way up, and how he'd fallen after rescuing the cat and ended up with a broken arm for his efforts. Viktor laughs at the funny parts and sucks in his breath at the painful parts and presses closer to Yuuri until there's so little space between their bodies that they have trouble walking.

(It's hot and humid in a way that Viktor is wholly unused to, but he would rather feel a little sticky than give up the feeling of Yuuri's hip bumping into his with every other step.)

They finally reach the festivities as the sun starts to set – Viktor can tell, because the noise and color rise around them in increments until the world bursts with it everywhere, vibrant and decadent, and the air practically drips with the enticing smell of fried food and sweets and the perfume of flowers. There's laughter there too, and live music, and there are people milling around everywhere he looks, dressed up and happy and smiling.

"You know, this festival is rather auspicious for a first date," Yuuri says suddenly.

"Oh?"

"Mm. The main focus of this festival is the concept of natsukoshii, which, um." Yuuri has to pause for a moment to search for the correct explanation. "I guess it's the concept of wanting to hold onto a memory or a moment that was important in the past and greatly cherished in the present. It's remembering the feeling of satisfaction after a good skate. Something like that."

Viktor thinks that makes sense — like nostalgia, maybe, but less bitter.

(He also doesn't miss the fact that Yuuri apparently already holds this moment dearly, that just being with Viktor is enough. It makes him warm all over with affection, and he takes Yuuri's hand in his, folding their fingers together.)

"We missed the natsukoshii ceremony and the kaganoho crawl, but we can still do the lanterns if you want. And of course after it becomes fully dark, there are fireworks."

Viktor hums and lets Yuuri lead him by the hand to a line of paper lanterns sitting on the ground. It takes a while because they're so late, but they hunt down the line until they find two lanterns with papers inside that are unmarked.

"You write your wishes for the next year on the paper inside the lantern, and after the sun sets they get lit. They don't float or anything, but with all of them lit up it makes the grounds of the shrine glow," Yuuri explains. He takes a pen out of the folds of his obi and pulls the pen cap off with his teeth. "I'll go first."

He scribbles something in quick strokes across the paper, and Viktor takes a second to admire the shape of the characters before the paper gets tucked back into the lantern. Yuuri hands the pen to him and he takes his turn, writing in deft cyrillic.

Yuuri doesn't ask him what he wrote, and he doesn't ask Yuuri either. He has the feeling — just an inkling, like an itch under his skin — that maybe they wished for the same thing.

His date leads him around after that, saying it'll be a little bit before the lanterns are lit and that there's plenty to do to fill the time in between. They wander a little further down the street and it's beautiful, he thinks, seeing the way people come together to have fun like this. It feels good being in the crowd with Yuuri. He feels loose and languid with the heat in the air and in Yuuri's body, his muscles relaxed and soft despite his nerves. It's easy to see how Yuuri is a product of this.

"Ooh," he says, lured in by the bright lights and awnings of a set of game stands that come into view through the crowd. He tugs Yuuri with him, grinning at the bright sound of his laughter. "C'mon, c' mon , Yuuri! There's goldfish over there!"

"Kingyo sukui," Yuuri says, smiling. "You have to scoop goldfish with a paper scoop. I don't know if you're patient or calm enough for that."

The competitive thing that dwells within him rises up out of its dormancy and he narrows his eyes at Yuuri. "Is that a challenge?"

"Oh," he says softly, his eyes glinting, "I don't think it's going to be much of a challenge for me at all."

Viktor grins sharply, delighting in Yuuri's answering smirk, and slaps down some money . Now he has to win some goldfish.

(He doesn't win any goldfish. Yuuri wins nine .

Viktor whines a little and Yuuri leans his head against his shoulder as a means of comfort, which makes Viktor feel a little less wounded.)

They walk a little further and Viktor points to the booth lined with boxes of snacks and canned drinks, and Yuuri explains that it's shateki — gun shooting — and that the goal is to knock down the object Viktor wants as a prize with the cork bullets. Viktor wants redemption, so he puts down a couple hundred yen for ten bullets. He wins a box of Kit-Kats on his ninth attempt and dives in right away, splitting one with Yuuri and humming at the citrus flavor on his tongue.

They play a couple more games – senbonhiki, or a lottery-type game with strings and a prize tied at the end, and super ball sukui which turns out to be even more difficult than goldfish scooping, much to Viktor's chagrin.

Yuuri stops in front of a wanage booth, contemplating the prizes. There are rows of toys and little boxes full of cheap jewelry and little white and gold cats with raised paws. His eyes are sparkling and he looks like he's searching for something, so Viktor steps back to watch.

Yuuri pays for ten rings to toss and with a look of determination that Viktor finds absolutely adorable and ridiculous, he gets a prize on the fifth try – a little blue jewelry box that he takes from the handler and cradles gently with both hands. They step away from the game stand and Yuuri opens the lid, revealing a child-sized plastic ring decorated with a huge pink flower.

"Oh! It's… Hm. Actually, it's kind of pretty," Viktor says after they both spend a few moments staring at it. Yuuri snorts, and then laughs, and that gets Viktor laughing too, and then Yuuri plucks it out of the jewelry box. He reaches down for Viktor's hand and Viktor swallows because Yuuri's fingers are warm and sure around his, and then he does something surprising — he slips the ring on Viktor's pinky finger.

"Wow," Viktor says quietly. He lifts his hand to catch the light from the gaming stand and admires the way it shines through the plastic. His gaze slides past and meets Yuuri's and they both laugh and Viktor finds himself quietly blindsided by the soft tenderness that settles in his chest. He reaches up to brush back a stray strand of Yuuri's inky black hair, and doesn't pull away.

"Hey," he says. He takes a breath, and then another, feeling warm all over. "Yuuri, I really – I really want to kiss you right now."

Yuuri flushes darkly and his eyes grow wide, and he lets out a little involuntary noise of surprise that Viktor wants to live inside. There's a few moments where neither of them move, where Viktor nearly regrets it, because he feels like he's just tumbled over the edge of a cliff blind and it's terrifying – but then Yuuri turns his head a few degrees and presses his cheek into Viktor's hand and closes his eyes, and Viktor has to close his eyes too and swallow against the feeling of Yuuri's warm breath on his skin and the heat of his cheek on the pad of his thumb.

"May I? Kiss you?"

"Yes," Yuuri breathes, and then he presses up onto the balls of his feet and his hands curl into the collar of Viktor's yukata, holding onto him like he's afraid Viktor will back away. Viktor wants to laugh, because that's ridiculous – why would Viktor ever want to back away from this? He slides his fingers into the hair at the nape of Yuuri's neck instead and drags him closer, until he's incapable of smelling anything but the warm sandalwood scent of Yuuri, until he's incapable of seeing anything but the pink of his cheeks and the expanding pools of his pupils, until he's incapable of feeling anything but the heat of Yuuri's body seeping in through their clothes.

He kisses Yuuri gently, first on the corner of his mouth and then in the middle, and uses the hand not tangled in Yuuri's hair to tip his head just so, fingers skimming along the strong bone of his jaw and down to his chin where his thumb rests. Yuuri inhales sharply through his nose at that and presses in harder, mouth parted enough for Viktor to taste the toothpaste he'd used earlier. His glasses dig in a bit uncomfortably but Viktor would never dream of asking him to stop because Yuuri is warm and vibrant and perfect .

Viktor drags the tip of his nose alongside Yuuri's as he pulls away, and watches the flutter of Yuuri's eyelashes as he comes back into focus. He wonders how he will ever stop kissing Katsuki Yuuri now that he's started.

"Okay?" he checks. His thumb sweeps across the fullness of Yuuri's cheek when Yuuri licks his lips.

"Yes. Can I do it again?" Yuuri asks, a little helplessly around the edges. Viktor laughs and kisses him again, and it's even better than the first.

Yuuri stays close to him after that, not always touching but close enough that if Viktor wants to reach out and brush a finger down his cheek he can.

(And he does, because watching Yuuri's flush follow it down is the most enticing and wondrous thing.)

They wander now toward the food stands, where they order one of everything and share. Yuuri laughs at Viktor's attempt at drinking ramune and feeds him bits of ikayaki and yakitori from the skewer. The squid is weirdly chewy but Viktor decides that he likes it and tells Yuuri so, which makes him beam with happiness. He gets a little distracted watching Yuuri eat, likes watching the subtle movements of his throat and the little unconscious hums of appreciation at the mixing of flavors on his tongue. He ends up buying Yuuri a candied apple just so he can lean down and cover Yuuri's sticky-red mouth with his to taste the secondhand sweetness.

"Come on," Yuuri murmurs once all their food is eaten and their hunger satiated. "Let's go see the lanterns before the fireworks start."

Yuuri was right, the lanterns make the shrine grounds look incredible and glowy, and Yuuri himself is lit up in their flickering light. He's so beautiful; Viktor kisses him again, surrounded by wishes and fire.

They're still kissing when the fireworks start, their bodies pressed together, Yuuri's gentle, slender fingers slipping along his exposed collarbones. Viktor pulls back so there's a centimeter of space between their lips and presses Yuuri's hand to his chest, just over his heart. When he opens his eyes, he can see the fireworks reflected in the lenses of Yuuri's glasses, and beyond them Yuuri's gorgeous brown eyes, full of promise.

Viktor has a really hard time keeping his hands to himself after that.

He can't really help it, he tries to explain to Christophe on a skype call the week after their date. Yuuri somehow becomes more beautiful every time Viktor takes his eyes off of him, so that when he looks back he's stunned all over again.

"Viktor darling, I have never seen you so smitten. You have it bad!" Chris replies, delighted.

"Yuuri's not much better," Viktor says, maybe a bit defensively. Just the other day Yuuri had kissed him in his shop, had reeled him in by a hand fisted in the front of his v-neck and pressed their mouths together completely shamelessly! In front of Yuuko!

"Well, I should hope not."

Viktor makes a questioning noise into his phone.

"Young love is supposed to be hot and heavy, mon cher," Chris explains. He sounds exasperated and amused. "Now. Tell me all about it. What was the festival like? What did you do? How beautiful did he look in the moonlight? How well does he kiss?"

"The festival was great," Viktor says. He recounts their conversations, describing everything from Yuuri's surprising competitive streak to the way Yuuri's eyes had shown with disappointment when he'd had to drop Viktor off at the flower shop. "Not telling you anything else though. God knows what you'd do with those kinds of details."

"Rude. At least send me a selfie."

Viktor acquiesces, scrolling through his camera roll. They didn't take many photos that night, too absorbed in each other to really think about it, but he locates the one he likes the most and presses send. It's a photo of Viktor pressing his lips to Yuuri's cheek, his arm around Yuuri's neck. Yuuri's face is lit up with happiness, his eyes closed and his smile big and sweet. It's a good photo, and it makes Viktor feel warm in his chest.

"Is that — what is that on your finger?"

"He — he won a ring for me, at one of the game stands."

"Oh! Is the wedding soon, then?"

Viktor flushes all the way down to his chest and does not deign to provide an answer.

It's the beginning of August and sweltering when Viktor decides enough is enough.

He and Yuuri eat lunch together every day, even on days that Yuuri has off work. They meet at the flower shop, and if Yuuri's working Viktor brings him the Newest Discovery™ from the nearby 7-11 he likes to raid sometimes, and it's almost the same as it's always been except now Yuuri invites him back behind the counter and sits close enough that their thighs touch underneath the table. If Yuuri has the day off, he whisks Viktor away to new parts of the city and shows him that there's still so much left to discover about the place that raised Yuuri. It's lighthearted and fun and flirty and Viktor begins to understand how falling might not be such an awful thing after all, if he has Yuuri there to catch him.

So. Enough is enough. He's ready.

Viktor asks him if they can have their next date at Ice Castle, and Yuuri looks at him like he's fulfilling a dream, his eyes bright and cheeks prettily flushed. That's enough to convince him that it's all going to be fine. He's never specifically told Yuuri why he left Russia or why he didn't compete in Nationals or Europeans or Worlds, but he's never really needed to; Yuuri's presence has been a soothing balm over the worst of the injuries, wrapping around him and helping him heal with his unwavering support.

He's nervous walking into the rink, but feeling nervous is not the sucking black emptiness he'd felt stepping off the Grand Prix podium so he embraces it with relief. It reminds him of being young and carefree and still in the process of falling in love with the ice. So he laces up his skates, hands working to pull the strings tight. They don't feel quite right on his feet because they're rentals, but there's a kind of relief in that, too.

It feels different, but that's okay, because he's different.

They strike out onto the ice at the same time, Yuuri's palm warm where it presses against his. Viktor might have been off the ice for months, and Yuuri even longer than that, but neither of their bodies have forgotten what it feels like to fly. They slip and slide across the rink on blades that are probably too dull, on pock-marked ice that probably should have been resurfaced.

It's hard for him to shake off the imperfections when he's been trained and taught and trained to strive for perfection, but every time he starts to tense up, every time the world narrows down to a small pinpoint, Yuuri squeezes his hand and smiles at him and Viktor slowly, slowly relaxes.

They make it a thing whenever Yuuri has days off, and Viktor watches Yuuri's body bloom into something purely graceful, watches the way his spins tighten up and his step sequences blaze across the surface of the ice. He's absolutely gorgeous like this, with his cheeks flushed from the cold and breathless, and Viktor discovers something new to love about Katsuki Yuuri in every quirk of his lips and glide of his blades. He'd seen Yuuri's old programs on youtube but the videos just don't do justice to the elegance and expressiveness in the lines and curves of Yuuri's body. Even rusty and a little chubby Yuuri has something Viktor has been lacking, and it commands Viktor's attention like nothing else has. He looks at Yuuri and sees the elements of routines – sweeping Ina Bauers and triple salchows with perfectly curved tanos and extended cantilevers just inches above the surface of the ice.

The passion he's been missing is found in the warmth of Yuuri's gaze and the curve of Yuuri's mouth. In August he starts putting together a program dedicated to the hoarse, desperate sound of Yuuri's moans when they kiss, and the way his back arches when Viktor shoves his cold hands up Yuuri's shirt. Skating with Yuuri is intoxicating; it ignites a fire beneath Viktor's sternum, deep in his chest – a longing for somethingmore .

"I've always wanted to skate on the same ice as you," Yuuri says on a hot Tuesday afternoon while they lean against the boards. The sunlight is spilling in through the windows and it makes the whole rink glow golden. "When it got too expensive to keep skating the part I knew I'd regret the most was that I'd never get to."

"Oh? How does it feel?"

Yuuri makes a questioning noise around the mouth of his water bottle.

"How does it feel to skate on the same ice as me?"

Yuuri stares at him for a moment and then kisses him warmly, gently nipping at Viktor's lower lip and coaxing his mouth to part for him. The slide of Yuuri's tongue is hot and wet and Viktor's moan is loud in the empty rink. Yuuri kisses as passionately and as gracefully as he skates, and Viktor's heartbeat kicks up and his blood heats and heats until his skin is flushed with it.

When Yuuri pulls away he doesn't go far, pressing his forehead against Viktor's and breathing hot, damp air against Viktor's slick mouth.

"It feels kind of like that."

Viktor kisses him again, because he can, and says, "Yuuri, I want to return to competitive skating. Will you support me?"

Yuuri smiles at him and brushes the fringe off his forehead, his fingers gentle and his eyes so, so tender.

"Viktor, of course I will. I can't wait."

They head out to the ramen shop hand-in-hand after a little more skating and a lot more kissing.

Yuuri is quiet for the rest of the night.

an: because hasetsu is based on a real town in saga prefecture called karatsu, i decided to use real places and real history in this fic. if youre interested in that sort of thing youll want to read the notes at the ends of the chapters. if youre not interested then feel free to smile and nod.

- in japan it's best to rest chopsticks on a chopstick rest or a folded up piece of paper when they're not in use but you're still eating. putting them down on the table or sticking them vertically into your food is a big no-no.
- there is a difference between the types of clothing yuuko mentions! kimonos are formal japanese traditional clothing worn by all genders. women's kimonos tend to be brighter colors and patterns, while men's kimonos tend to be darker colored and more subdued. kimonos can cost upwards of $20,000 and have many pieces. they're more often seen at weddings. yukatas are lighter, more casual versions of kimonos. the name yukata comes from the words for bath and clothing but they are considered 'lighter' or 'summer' kimonos and are fine to wear out during festivals and other things! yukatas can be completed for around $300. jinbei are the most casual of the three. think abt what viktor wears around the inn - that green outfit with the shorts and the open collar. they're becoming more acceptable to wear in the summer months at festivals as well as indoors at onsens for all genders. the stitching tends to be looser to allow more air flow.
- the flowers yuuko is arranging at the start of the festival are purple statice, which means success and remembrance, and sunflowers, which symbolize adoration and dedication.
- the festival they go to is a real festival at the kagami shrine, which is a shinto shrine! it usually takes place at the end of july but i altered it just a bit to fit the timeline. at the festival they do a lantern lighting where you write your wishes for the coming year on a piece of paper and then light your lantern. they also do the natsukoshii ceremony i mentioned, and there's something called a kaganoho crawl which i couldn't find a lot of information on? but here is the festival website!
- i mention a lot of games and i tried to make sure the mechanics of them were clear but just in case you want to know how it works or see how the stands are set up, you can check website! and here's a list of foods that viktor and yuuri probably ate!

hope ur ready for the angst train next chapter lol