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May You Find Some Comfort Here

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The first time Victor sees Yuuri, the world as he knows it shifts.  

Angels are holy beings, meant to stand above humans, guide them to the righteous path. They are therefore not admitted to feel as humans do. Victor has always been fascinated by it. He’s guided countless humans to the other side, wrapped them in warmth and love and brought them safely to the heavens. He expects this time to be no different, and in truth he’s not meant to be there at all. It’s Christophe’s case, and Victor comes along as company. Detroit is cold in the winter, but the chill doesn’t bite Victor’s cheeks as it does humans. 

They make it into the operation room just in time. The humans are moving at frantic paces, machines beeping loudly, voices raised, panic evident in those trying to save a life already lost. In the soul world, all is quiet and serene. Victor stands back as Christophe retrieves the soul from the body carefully. Just as he does, the room falls quiet. The machines stop making noise, all of the movement stops. The doctors that were just frantically trying to do their job have stilled. One of them removes his mask, panting as his jaws clenches. He has deep brown eyes behind blue rimmed glasses, his cheeks stained violently red. He’s beautiful. His soul is deep, his feeling frayed, and Victor suddenly feels so much. He’s never been so enraptured in a human’s emotions before, it’s as if he feels them himself.

“Victor,” Christophe calls, and Victor pries his eyes away from the doctor to look at his friend. Christophe has the soul gathered, and he’s looking expectantly at Victor. “Time to leave.”

“Give me a moment,” Victor starts, eyes straying back to the man. There’s something about him that makes Victor linger, makes him want to stay. He’s never felt such an impulse before, such longing. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Christophe looks at him quizzically, but simply nods and dispatches, leaving Victor alone in the room with the humans. The doctor is visibly frayed from the loss, leaving the room with chest heaving. Victor even hears another doctor, with a sunny soul and grey eyes, try to console him. We did everything we could. It was a hard case from the start. Yuuri, you were brilliant . It doesn’t seem to work. Yuuri, as the man’s name seems to be, only stares into the air, leaving with a cold comment of it not being enough. On his way out he leaves a note of vacation to his manager, tears in his eyes. Victor cannot leave him. He has to stay, make sure he’s alright. 

Yuuri lives simply, and as he comes home he simply sits on his couch, staring into the nothingness of the apartment. Victor wishes to reach out, to soothe his pain and worries. He sits down next to him, and Yuuri seems to sense it, frowning as he looks intently right at Victor, without seeing him. 

“I must be losing my mind,” Yuuri says and sighs, pushing himself off the couch to go to bed.


The first time Victor speaks to Yuuri, he knows deep down that it’ll change it all. 

He’s never shown himself to any living human before. He's been good, followed the rules, but he cannot take it anymore. There’s something about Yuuri that hinders him from letting go. He should return to his home. He knows he should, and instead he lets his heart guide him. Yuuri’s been upset, the loss of the patient hitting him so hard. He seems to sense Victor too, looking right at him even though he cannot see him. On the third day Victor spends with him, it pushes Yuuri into a panic attack. Victor cannot take it. It’s true, there is someone there, but since Yuuri can’t see him he seems to think he’s going crazy. He has his back against his bedroom door, body shaking with the force of his sobs. Victor’s never taken corporeal form, but it works on instinct, pushing himself into the mortal realm and placing his hands on Yuuri’s. 

“AH!” Yuuri screams, fear in his eyes as he looks at Victor. Victor can see that he sees him now, eyes wide and shocked. He looks down at the hands on his own and then back up at Victor, chest heaving.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, reveling in the feeling of touching. He’s never touched anyone before. It feels warm, and gentle. He likes it. 

“Who are you?” Yuuri gasps, throat tight. Victor pushes serenity into his touch, trying to transfer it into Yuuri. It seems to work slightly. Yuuri’s breaths slows, even if he still looks shocked. “And why do you have wings?”

Oh . Victor turns to look at them, silver and fluttering around them. They’ve wrapped around them in an embrace, as if wanting to protect Yuuri. Victor feels heat rush to his cheeks, which is also a new sensation. He pulls his wings back slightly, letting them fold behind his back. Yuuri watches with wide eyes, blinking away the tears that still cling to his lashes. 

“You look like an…” he starts and Victor smiles softly and nods.

“Angel,” he agrees, and Yuuri shakes his head in disbelief. “I could not stand seeing you so upset anymore.”

“Am I so damaged I need help from above?” Yuuri asks, and Victor feels his discomfort, tight in his chest. He hurries to shake his head, because that is not why Victor is here at all. It’s purely selfish, his fascination and longing for Yuuri. 

“No I- You have a beautiful soul Yuuri. I just wanted to be close to you,” he says, and Yuuri shudders. 

“I don’t understand,” Yuuri says, and Victor laughs, because neither does he really. “Why are you here?”

“Can I get to know you?” Victor asks, thumbs stroking over Yuuri’s hands. They’re soft, and warm, and Victor wonders what it would feel like for them to cup his cheeks, touch his lips, his nose, his eyelids. Yuuri seems to consider for a moment, looking over Victor with disbelief that slowly turns to determination. There are so many layers of him, Victor feels it.
“Only if I can get to know you too.”

Victor smiles and nods, a giddiness filling he’s sure he’s never experienced before. 


The first time Victor holds Yuuri, he’s supposed to say goodbye.

He’s spent over a month on earth with Yuuri, learning about him, and about humans, and about life on earth in a way he never had before. Everything is so different when you experience it from this form. Tastes, smells, touch, feelings. It’s all overwhelming and wonderful . Best of all is Yuuri. The way he laughs, the way he expresses himself, the way he captures Victor's attention in everything he does. Victor doesn’t want to leave, but he feels as if he must. They’ve been talking about it, Yuuri questioning if he’s holding Victor up from going. He is, but it’s not as if it’s his fault. Victor’s fallen for him, head over heels as the humans say. He can’t imagine going on eternity without Yuuri. To mourn him, to long for him, to be void of him. 

They’re standing in the kitchen, and Yuuri steps close, wrapping his arms around Victor’s shoulders tight. It feels right. It feels more right than anything ever has. Victor’s arms come to circle his waist, and for a long moment they simply stay there, breathing as they hold on. 

“Can I stay a little longer?” Victor asks, holding Yuuri tighter. “I’m not ready yet.”

“You can stay as long as you want,” Yuuri says, and Victor tightens his grip around him. 

It’s not until Yuuri is fully asleep that Victor dares to call out to a known presence. It’s been there to and from for a while now, but it hasn’t relented all day. 

“Christophe,” he says, and the other angel becomes visible, sitting on the couch in the living room. 

“Come sit with me Victor,” Christophe says. Victor sighs and moves away from Yuuri’s bed, the one they’ve been sharing since Victor came to Yuuri. Christophe smiles when they face each other, but he looks worried as Victor sits down next to him. They’ve spent countless moments together through eternity, yet this one feels heavy in a way that their friendship has never been. 

“You look happy,” he says, glancing back at Yuuri’s form. Victor nods. He is happy, so very happy. He just wishes it could last, and he tells Christophe as much. The other angel hums in agreement, looking over at Victor with a serious expression. “Have you ever heard of falling, Victor?” Of course Victor has heard of falling. Every angel knows the story of Lucifer and how he fell from the heavens and from the heavenly father's graces. Chris seems to read his mind, as they so often do. “It must not be as dramatic as that.” 

“What do you mean?” Victor asks. He’s never heard of any other way to fall then to be secluded, banned to the endless fires of hell. 

“An angel can choose to fall, if they wish to become human,” Chris says, and then explains the process. All Victor has to do is to literally fall from an esteemed height, and hit the ground without catching himself. It’ll be a chance to break free, a chance to be with Yuuri. Victor feels urgency fill him, and without looking back he rushes out of the apartment. 

The 73 floors of the Detroit Marriott Center feels like a good height, and it isn’t as if there’s any building higher in close distance. Victor hopes it’ll be enough. He sits at the top of it and  waits for sunrise. When the rays warms his skin he places himself on the edge, and then with closed eyes falls backwards towards the ground. 


The first time Victor kisses Yuuri, it’s as if the world is whole.

It had hurt, far more than stubbing his toe on Yuuri’s doorsill and the cut he accidently did on his finger when helping Yuuri cook. Pain is a new sensation for him as an angel, and hitting the ground had punched the air from his lungs with its intensity. He feels battered, bruised and bloody, but there’s only one place he wants to go. 

He can hear Yuuri calling out for him inside the apartment even before he knocks, and he wishes he had left a note, instead of simply leaving. He raps his hand sharply against the wood, and Yuuri quiets, before Victor can hear him rush to the door. It’s flung open, and Yuuri’s wide eyed gaze meets Victor’s. He takes him in, sees his wounded state, his lack of wings, and sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Victor, what did you do?” Yuuri asks, wrapping his arms around him to pull him into the apartment. “I woke and you weren’t here and I was so worried you had left. What happened? What did you do?” 

Victor’s clutching him so tightly, even though it hurts his wounded body. Yuuri smells like home, and he feels like he’s made to fit in Victor’s arms. “I fell,” he states. “I couldn't bear the thought of not being with you.”

“Victor,” Yuuri answers breathlessly. He pulls back, just enough to be able to press his lips to Victor's, his lips chapped, wet, demanding. It feels like everything. Victor can not help but smile into the kiss, whispering worlds of love into Yuuri’s mouth, hearing them echoed in Yuuri’s own voice. A known presence tingles in his mind, and Victor smiles, knowing Christophe’s proud of his choice.