Vikturi!!! on Ice

[Shipping competition entry #1] With Yuri and Viktor engaged, you can't expect me /not/ to write a wedding scene. Come on. --OR-- Viktor recreates that one dance that Yuri was too drunk to remember ;)

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1. I do.

 

    Yuri couldn’t stop staring at his ring. It was ridiculous, he’d been wearing it for over a year now - since he had slyly suggested that he and Viktor get matching “good luck charms.” The memory made him smile; Yuri hadn’t even been able to lie to himself - he doubted that they had fooled anyone else. 

    Yesterday, Yuri had won his gold medal, and today he and Viktor had made it official. 

    They were married. 

    The ring on Yuri’s finger seemed ten thousand times heavier now, but in the best way. It glowed like a beacon, and, as Yuri stepped outside the church, he was sure that the combined glint of his and Viktor’s rings would blind any passersby. The only thing brighter was his smile.

    “Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov,” Viktor leaned down to mutter in Yuri’s ear, his fingers splayed on the small of his husband’s back. A chill ran down Yuri’s spine. “Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov,” he tried out. 

    “I like it,” Yuri replied, turning his head so he could smile at Viktor. “I like it a lot.”

    With a soft smile that lit his eyes, Viktor pulled Yuri closer and guided him to the limo that waited on the curb. The cheers from their friends and family were cut off abruptly as Viktor closed the car door behind him, scooting to join Yuri in the middle of the seat. He let out a breath, and Yuri intertwined their fingers. “I can’t believe it’s over,” Yuri said. “I hope Phichit got some good pictures.”

    “Mmm,” Viktor hummed, leaning his head against Yuri’s. “It’s not quite over yet.” 

    Yuri looked out the window as the city flashed by. “How far is the reception hall?”

    “Not far,” Viktor said, absently pressing a kiss behind Yuri’s ear. “But we have a few minutes to relax.”

    Nodding, Yuri replayed the last hour in his head again. It was such a blur - the music, the flowers, the vows, the kiss. That part was as sharp as glass in Yuri’s memory. He would never forget that kiss - their first as husbands. 

    Yuri didn’t actually know where the reception was being held. Viktor had insisted that Yuri take care of securing the gold and the that he would worry about the logistics. After all, if Yuri didn’t win, the wedding would have to be postponed; Viktor was a man of his word. 

    But Yuri was done waiting. 

    Winning gold was the only choice, and after that it was a whirlwind of kisses and tuxes and ceremonies and kisses. A pop broke Yuri from his revelry and he turned to find Viktor pouring two flutes of champagne. 

    “Good idea,” Yuri said, feeling his shoulders relax a little. “Fancy parties like these make me tense.”

    With a smirk, Viktor handed him a half-full glass, keeping the other for himself. At Yuri’s indignant noise, he purred, “I know how you are with champagne, Yuri. I want you to remember this.”

    Yuri scowled, but had to agree. Still, he downed the glass, feeling the barest hint of alcohol work on his muscles. It might have been his imagination.

    When they had been driving for almost ten minutes, Yuri started to fidget. “Should we be there by now?”

    Viktor, lounging with one arm around Yuri’s shoulders, replied, “Maybe we’re taking a different route.”

    Yuri frowned, and looked towards the closed divider that blocked the driver from view. “Maybe we should ask.”

    Reaching a slender finger up to flick a piece of hair away from Yuri’s face, Viktor replied, “Relax, Yuri. We’ll be there soon.”

    With a reluctant sigh, Yuri allowed Viktor to pull him into his side and tried to calm his nerves. He couldn’t stop thinking about his parents and his fellow skaters who had been so kind to stay a few days after the competition to attend a wedding and reception that they were now late for. Feet tapping impatiently on the floor, eyes glued to watches… He shivered. After ten minutes, Yuri couldn’t take it any longer. 

    “I’m going to go ask how close we are,” he declared, pushing himself up. Viktor caught his hand and pulled him back. 

    “Wait, I recognize where we are,” he assured Yuri. “We’re only a minute away.” 

    With a huff, Yuri looked out the window again. Viktor let out a breathy chuckle. “As cute as you are when you’re serious,” he began, muttering the words against Yuri’s cheek, “you need to relax. Everything is under control.”

    “I can’t-“

    Viktor cut him off with a kiss, and, well, if that wasn’t the most effective distraction in the world. Before he knew it, Viktor was pulling away and the car was stopped outside of a tall, unassuming building. “Ready?” Viktor asked, his hand still in Yuri’s.

    “Ready,” Yuri agreed, and more sure of that than he had been a minute ago. 

    Viktor led the way into the building, which was romantically lit inside. The walls were hung with sheets of shimmery fabric, and fairy lights were draped across the top. It was also empty. Yuri frowned. “Where is everyone? Their cars are outside…”

    Viktor didn’t answer, but let go of Yuri’s hand to head across the room to a bench with cubbies underneath. Yuri’s scowl deepened. “This looks like a-“

    Turning around, Viktor presented him with his ice skates. “Skating rink?”

    “Skating rink,” Yuri agreed, coming closer. “Viktor-“

    Stepping forward, Viktor pressed the skates into Yuri’s hands. “Trust me, Yuri.”

    And Yuri trusted him. He took a seat on the bench and pulled his dress shoes off to switch for his familiar skates. Across from him, Viktor did the same. When he shed his suit jacket, Yuri did the same. It was surprisingly warm in there, and Yuri didn’t want to ruin it with whatever was happening next. 

    “Well, my gold medalist,” Viktor grinned as he stood, then added, “husband. Will you accompany me to the ice?” He stretched his hand out like he had when he had appeared for the first time in the hot springs.

    Yuri didn’t hesitate to accept. “I’d love to.”

    They made their way to the door to the rink, and the moment Yuri’s skates touched the ice, he felt some of his tension drain away. All that he could focus on was the smooth slide of his skates and the warm hand of his husband in his own. Applause erupted from behind the barrier, and Yuri looked up to find an audience of their friends and family. He glanced at Viktor, who was watching Yuri’s face. “Viktor, what-“

    Ignoring the crowd behind them, Viktor put a hand on Yuri’s waist and skated backwards, leisurely leading him to the center of the ice. He bent his head close to Yuri’s ear to explain, “I was shocked to realize you had no memory of the banquet where we met,” Viktor said, his breath hot on Yuri’s skin. “Especially since that is one of my favorite memories - the night I fell in love with you.”

    Yuri jerked back a fraction. “That was when-“

    Viktor laughed. “You’re quite the eros, Yuri.” Yuri. Viktor said his name like a prayer, infused with reverence and awe.

    Feeling his cheeks heat up, Yuri ducked his head. They were almost to the center of the ice. When they reached it, Viktor pulled Yuri to a stop. “I put together a routine to re-create our first dance,” Viktor told him. “You might not remember the one when we first met, but you can remember our first as a married couple all the same.”

    Yuri could feel his eyes getting wet as he stared at his fian- husband. “Viktor… I- How did you remember? How did you remember our dance, our moves?”

    Music started up in the background, and it felt vaguely familiar in the same way a flash memory of a dream does. Viktor pulled Yuri close, one hand on his hip and one in his hand. His mouth was right next to Yuri’s ear as he breathed, “Oh, Yuri. How could I forget?”

    Yuri felt like his heart was about to burst, but before it could, he was swept away. Viktor spun him around, muttering, “Just follow my lead.” He drew Yuri into a dip, adding, “And relax.” 

    And then they were gliding across the ice. Yuri closed his eyes, trusting Viktor’s strong hands to guide him and reveling in the cool air flowing across his face. 

    “Put your arm around my waist,” Viktor whispered. Yuri snapped his eyes open, doing as he was told, and Viktor lifted a leg high into the air. They coasted along the ice for a few feet like that, and Yuri let out a breathless laugh. With both feet on the ice, Viktor turned to face Yuri, skating backwards.

    “Can I lift you?” he asked, as if Yuri would say no.

    Yuri smiled at him. “Ready when you are.”

    Grinning now, Viktor anchored his hands on Yuri’s hips, lifting him as he leapt into the air, spinning them both around. Yuri lifted his face towards the ceiling, flying in every sense of the word. All of his successes in competitions paled in comparison to what he felt there on the ice with Viktor, and he didn’t regret getting embarrassingly drunk at that banquet so long ago. He didn’t regret it for a second. 

    The song was over all too soon, and as he and Viktor slowed to a stop, cheers and whistles erupted from the stands. Yuri took Viktor’s hand for a dramatic bow, laughing and breathless, his eyes wet. Before they left the ice, he turned to Viktor, pulling him in by the back of the neck for a hard kiss. “I love you, Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov,” he said when he drew away.

    “I love you too, Yuri,” Viktor whispered, the smile in his lips and his eyes and his heart. “Come, there’s a second floor to this building with a banquet hall. I’ve had the caterers make your favorite.”

    Yuri allowed Viktor to pull him towards the edge of the ice, smiling as he asked, “Katsudon?”

    “Katsudon,” Viktor confirmed, “for my beautiful pork cutlet bowl.”

    Laughing, Yuri followed Viktor off the ice, leaving their skates downstairs as they joined the reception going on above. The moment they stepped in, applause and cheers began again, with “congratulations!” raining in from every side. Yuri caught tears on his mother’s face, and even Yurio’s expression couldn’t be called a glare. 

    As the crowd broke, someone pushed between Yuri and Viktor, and a second glance found it was Phichit. “First selfie with the married couple!” he declared, giddy. Raising his phone, there was a quick snap, then Phichit was stepping forward, turning to face them. “Can I just say- I called it. From the first time you two made eye contact, I called it.”

    Viktor looked amused. “Were you even there the first time we-“

    “I called it,” Phichit reiterated. 

    Yuri laughed, then pulled his friend in for a hug. “Thank you for indulging my Viktor-obsession phase all those years ago.”

    Viktor turned to Yuri in mock betrayal. “Phase?” he echoed. “Years ago? Yuri, don’t tell me the novelty has worn off so quickly.”

    Mouth dropping open, Yuri hurried to reply, “I didn’t mean it like that, Viktor-“

    “You two are already acting like an old married couple,” a familiar voice grumbled. In Phichit’s place was now Yurio, scowling like they were a particularly disgusting piece of bacteria. Otabek stood at his shoulder with a more neutral expression. 

    “Yurio!” Viktor greeted. “I’m glad you could come.”

    Yurio shared a split second glance with Otabek. “Beka said I had to.”

    Addressing Otabek, Yuri said, “Thank you. I know how much work convincing him must have taken.”

    Otabek cracked a smile. “Yes, well. He would’ve regretted not going.”

    Yurio’s eyes zeroed in on where Viktor was rubbing small circles with his thumb on Yuri’s hand. “More than you’ll regret me throwing up in the next five minutes?” He turned and walked away. 

    With an apologetic glance, Otabek added, “Congratulations,” then followed Yurio. 

    Viktor and Yuri wandered off into the crowd, stopping every few feet to chat with someone or other. Yuri’s mother gathered Viktor up in a five minute hug, during which Yuri took the opportunity to grab some champagne from a passing waiter. He had just raised the glass to his lips when Viktor broke free and plucked it from his hand. “Now, now, Yuri. I’m not sure I can trust you with this.”

    Yuri glared at his husband. “You cannot expect me to go all night with only a half a glass of champagne in my system.”

    Smirking, Viktor took a sip of the stolen glass. “I know there’s no stripper pole in here, but it’s important to me that you keep your pants on.” Yuri raised a brow, and Viktor gave a half shrug. “In public, at least.”

    “A glass or two won’t kill me, Viktor. My tolerance isn’t that low,” Yuri replied. 

    Relenting, Viktor stepped to the side to grab a fresh glass from the nearest waiter. “Alright, but at the slightest sign of Party Yuri, you’re cut off, okay?”

    Scowling, Yuri took a generous mouthful of the bubbly liquid. “Only married a few hours and you’re already bossing me around,” he grumbled.

    When he looked up, Viktor bore a stricken expression. “Yuri…I just want you to remember-“

    “I know,” Yuri hurried to assure him. “And I agree. I was just joking.” When Viktor’s expression didn’t immediately change, he leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re looking out for me. Love you, okay?”

    “Love you, too,” Viktor replied, his voice a little less hesitant.

    “Come on,” Yuri said. “I’m sure Yakov is waiting to ask if we’re done messing around and ready to get serious about skating again.”

    Viktor cracked a smile. “We’re not, are we?” 

    “Of course not,” Yuri replied, leading him through the crowd. “But it would be rude not to indulge him.” 

    Behind him, Viktor leaned in to add, “Next, all we have to do is get Yurio and Otabek to admit their feelings and Yakov’s ‘why is everyone gay’ meltdown can truly begin.”

    Yuri shot him a grin. “To be fair, you’re the only one who’s officially gay so far.”

    Viktor sent a pointed look at the rings on their fingers. “Yuri, now that you’re married to a man, people are going to assume you’re gay far before they assume you’re demisexual.”

    Shrugging, Yuri replied, “Fair.” He couldn’t bring himself to care what people assumed - other than the fact that they saw Viktor as his. He smiled. 

    After Yuri and Viktor made the rounds, enduring hugs and doting relatives, Yuri’s cheeks hurt from so much smiling. He was also starving, but they had only a few minutes to scarf down some katsudon (made specially from his mother’s recipe) before they were whisked away again to cut the cake or to start the dancing or to listen to another toast. 

    By the end of the night, Yuri was exhausted. Exhausted but so happy. As their family and friends offered their last goodbyes, Viktor put a protective arm around Yuri and ushered him to the car, pulling him away from people reaching for just “one more hug.”

    “Phew,” Viktor let out a breath as they collapsed into the backseat of the chauffeured vehicle. “Are you doing okay?”

    Yuri nodded, settling in to rest his head against Viktor’s chest. “Yeah. I’m more than okay.”

    Viktor brought a hand up to thread through Yuri’s hair. “I’m glad.”

    “Did you have fun?”

    Warm lips pressed a kiss to Yuri’s disheveled hair. “It was one of my favorite nights so far.”

    “Thank you, Viktor,” Yuri muttered. 

    “No, thank you.”

    Yuri shifted to look up at him. “We’re not going to be one of those couples, are we?”

    Viktor leaned down to press an upside down kiss to his lips. “We can be whatever kind of couple you want to be.”

    Feeling warm and content, but more than a little tired, Yuri closed his eyes. He could feel the car speed along and finally thought to ask, “Where are we going? I’m sorry - I should’ve helped you plan the honeymoon at least-“

    “I didn’t plan the honeymoon,” Viktor admitted. 

    Yuri’s eyes snapped open, and before he could stop it, his stomach plummeted. It shouldn’t matter - he and Viktor had been so many places together, they didn’t need a real honeymoon. But why did he still feel disappointed? “Oh. That’s alright, we’ll just spend a quiet week at the hot springs.”

    A low chuckle shook Viktor’s chest under Yuri’s head. “Yuri, of course we’re going on a honeymoon.”

    Yuri scowled. “But-“

    “I didn’t plan it,” Viktor said again. “Phichit offered. No, more like Phichit insisted.” Viktor idly ran a hand through Yuri’s hair. “He might be kind of small, but I was a little afraid to say no.”

    Something eased in Yuri’s chest. He didn’t have to worry about a thing. Phichit was one of his closest friends, and whatever he had planned was bound to be wonderful. “Do you know where we’re going, then?”

    Viktor shook his head. “I wanted it to be a surprise. A surprise for both of us.”

    Yuri closed his eyes again. “I like that.”

    It was a reasonable drive to the airport, but the highway hum was soothing to Yuri’s ears. As he was beginning to drift off with Viktor’s fingers methodically threading through his hair, he heard Viktor mutter, “Wherever we end up going, there’s one thing I want to do.”

    “What’s that?” Yuri mumbled back, his voice muffled by Viktor’s shirt. 

    “Find a stripper pole and buy you just enough champagne to bring back Drunk Yuri,” he said. “But not enough for you to forget. I get the feeling you’ll want to remember this one.” 

    Yuri smiled. “I do too.”

    “You what?”

    “I do,” Yuri repeated, then they both laughed. 

    Viktor rested his chin on Yuri’s head. “I do,” he whispered, covering Yuri’s ringed hand with his own. “I do.”

    

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