Yuuri knows that he’s in trouble when he sees Victor smirk from across the room. And he can’t tell if it’s the good kind of trouble, or the bad kind.
Just in case it’s the latter, Yuuri stays lounged across the floor of their apartment with Makkachin sprawled across his stomach. It’s the off-season, and it seems like either Victor or Makka are always clinging to him and his slightly chubbier state. He doesn’t blame Makka though; Victor manages to be bony no matter what he eats.
Yuuri might hate him for that a little.
“Yuuri,” Victor purrs, taking off his headphones.
“Vitya?” Yuuri answers, tilting his face to get a better look and—oh. Yuuri knows that look well. That’s the look that he saw when Victor skated Eros for him the very first time, and, well. He’s seen it a lot since.
That doesn’t stop Yuuri’s cheeks from instantly turning pink, though.
“Why don’t you come over here?” Victor somehow manages to make patting the cushion look sensual, or maybe it’s just Yuuri’s pavlovian response to him eyeing Yuuri like he wants to consume him.
“Um,” Yuuri manages to squeak, absolutely not able to match Victor when he takes him off guard like this. “But I have Makka on me?”
Victor arches an eyebrow and says a sharp command in Russian, a little too quick for Yuuri’s brain to parse out—he hasn’t exactly had much time to learn the language until now, what with both Victor and him training—before Makka lets out a huff and drags herself off Yuuri.
“Yuuri.” Victor gives a small, beautiful smile. “I have something to show you.”
Yuuri hesitates for just a second before the impulse to be by Victor overwhelms him, and he gets to his feet in a cacophony of very sexy cracking joints and settles next to Victor.
Victor, as always, doesn’t care. Victor somehow, impossibly, loves him no matter what, even when he’s being distant and anxious, and creaky joints are the least of either of their concerns. He wraps himself around Yuuri, running a teasingly gentle finger up Yuuri’s thigh, his face close and his breath hot against Yuuri’s ear. “I found something that I think you’ll love.”
“O-oh?” Yuuri curls an arm around Victor too, holding on for dear life.
“Yes, it’s… very sexy. Almost as sexy as you, I must admit.” Victor’s teeth graze Yuuri’s earlobe and a shiver runs down Yuuri’s spine, his entire body very interested. “Do you want to see it?”
It takes Yuuri a second to catch his breath, and even then he only manages to breathe, “Yes.”
Victor brings up the dark phone, making quick work of his lock screen before intimate music rings from the tinny speakers and… and…?
It’s a food video?
Oh no, it’s a katsudon food video.
Yuuri moans, and not in the good kind of way.
“I saw it, and I thought of you, my most delicious katsudon.” Victor nuzzles into the crook of Yuuri’s neck for just a second before the ugliest little snorts escape him, and Yuuri’s scowl doesn’t stay across his face for very long.
Yuuri sighs. Yeah, his Victor’s kind of an ass sometimes, but no one else gets this Victor. The silly one who plays pranks, or lets himself ugly snort, or gets jealous of Makkachin when she’s cuddling with Yuuri too much.
“You’re such a dork,” Yuuri murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to Victor’s head. “A big, mean, dork.”
“But it’s perfect, Yuuri!” Another laugh escapes Victor’s mouth before he can get out the rest of his words. “You should skate an exhibition piece to that video!”
Yuuri rolls his eyes, shaking his head a little. “Did Phichit help you make that?”
“No, it actually exists!” Victor pulls back to beam at him, smile huge and heart-shaped and gorgeous. “Isn’t that amazing?”
How does Victor manage to be so cute, even when he’s being such a giant dork? Yuuri takes Victor’s face between his palms, pulling him in for a quick kiss on the very tip of his nose. “Yes, yes you are.”
“Yuuri,” Victor coos before tackling him to the couch and kissing him like his looks had promised, earlier.
And Yuuri, well, he can’t help but smile. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, but he’s thankful for his dorky, lovely Vitya every single day.