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Chapter Text

Winters in Hasetsu were cold, but not even the coldest of days could compare to the icy chill seeping through his torn clothes as he cowered against the wall, staring at the dark alley he found shelter in.

His whole body shook with violent shivers as he stuttered out a silent prayer, hoping – begging for something that would provide him with even the slightest bit of warmth.

Little did Yuuri know that his prayers had been long since heard.

Saint Petersburg, 2012

Yuuri strayed through the lifeless streets of the city that once held his hopes of a better future. He remembered the way his younger self took in all the surroundings with unrestrained joy and fascination, curious about what his new life had to offer.

How naïve he had been.

The light that once guided his way had faded, leaving behind nothing but traces of his shattered dream. The streets now seemed nothing but dull, dark and grey and cold. Yuuri felt the cold bite at his skin, flinching at its icy touch. His clothes were torn, his hair dirty and unkempt, his eyes dead as he limped onwards to whatever place would give him shelter from the unforgiveness of Russian winter.

People hardly seemed to care nowadays, most of them didn’t even glance in his direction as he passed them. They only thought about their own life, their own problems and their own happiness. They didn’t want to get involved with a scruffy foreigner who didn’t even speak their language.

The rumble of his empty stomach had subsided as the day dragged on, leaving behind only a dull tugging he chose to ignore.

A bright sign on his left caught his attention. He wearily turned his head to read the sentence written in gold and silver, but found that he couldn’t understand a single word. Yuuri sighed, again preparing his aching knees for the way that lay ahead of him.

“Are you okay, Sir?”

Yuuri raised his head once more, feeling his breath catch in his throat as his eyes locked with ones the colour of the ocean. Staring back at him was what had to be the most beautiful man Yuuri had ever seen, smiling warmly at him with his beautiful, beautiful eyes. The stranger’s hair was a striking shade of silver, bangs hiding a small part of his face that was just as beautiful.

“Sir?” the man asked once more, and even though Yuuri didn’t understand what he was saying, his expression spoke of genuine concern combined with kindness and such sincerity that Yuuri couldn’t help the warmth spreading in his chest. It was a foreign feeling, one that Yuuri was sure he hadn’t felt before, but it was more than simply appreciated.

Yuuri tried to gather all the words he could remember, trying to form them into a proper sentence.

He inwardly flinched when he found himself unable to reply. He shook his head, nervously awaiting the stranger’s next move who, apparently, seemed to understand. “English?” he then asked with that warm smile still playing on his lips. Yuuri privately cursed himself for not thinking about that option before raising his voice in a tongue much more familiar to him. “I was just passing your store, I apologize if I bothered you somehow.”

Yuuri saw the man’s eyes widening before he spoke again, this time, there was something like hope accompanying his smooth voice. “No! I mean- no, not at all. You seemed… distant, somehow. I was just wondering if you were okay.”

It took a lot of self-control for Yuuri not to start crying and tell the beautiful stranger about every burden currently resting on his shoulders, but his heart told him that he would only be an inconvenience. “I am. Thank you,” Yuuri said, flinching at the sharp undertone. He didn’t wait for a reply as he dragged his tired legs onward, the merciless feeling of shame now heavily resting upon him.

Not long after, Yuuri collapsed against a cold wall. He wanted to get up, to find a better place for the night, but his legs could carry him no more.

And as he sat there, all kinds of feelings running through him, he thought back to the most beautiful shade of blue and silver. Luckily, sleep saved him from his misery of hunger, pain and indignity. His dreams had always been a place he found shelter in, and even as he was at the mercy of everyone else, he felt protected by its warmth and peace.

“Yakov, you don’t understand!” Victor pouted as he gathered some roses to make a new arrangement. “He looked so broken and lost… And his eyes, Yakov, you should have seen his eyes! No eyes that beautiful should ever look as lifeless as they did!”

Ever since ‘the encounter’ two days ago, Victor couldn’t get the dark-haired male out of his head. His expression haunted him even on his waking hours. “Vitya! I swear, if you’re up to something stupid again…,” Yakov grumbled from behind a stack of pots.

“I’m probably never going to see him again…,” Victor mumbled, defeat crawling in. It had been a long time since someone last caught his attention, let alone stay in his memory longer than a day. Victor tended to forget things pretty easily, which was one of the reasons Yakov was here to help him in his small flower shop.

But the Russian couldn’t help it, the man had captured his mind.

Yakov was grumbling as he watered the flowers, he, better than anyone, knew how reckless Victor could be at times. More often than not, he was the one who talked him out of his plans.

It was Saturday evening, and Victor had enough experience to know that it was much likely to be a quiet one. Victor had just finished his arrangement as his eyes once again locked with the streets void of any life. His sight drifted over to the bakery across the street, to the toy store next to it and, finally, to the exact same place he caught the stranger staring two days ago.

This time, the spot stayed empty.

Victor felt an all too familiar tugging at his chest, unable to ignore it no matter how hard he tried. It was hard to think straight when your head was full of hazel-brown eyes and a face with soft, gentle features.

Yakov’s grumpy voice dragged him out of his thoughts. “Just go home already, will you?” Victor considered the offer for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. He grabbed his trench coat from the rack, bid his good-byes to Yakov and headed out the door into the cold Russian air.

He was walking through a barely-lit alley when a pained whimpering caught his attention. Turning around, Victor was met with a man cowering against a wall, shivering violently. The Russian quietly came closer to take a look at the man. Victor felt his eyes sting as he took in his face.

It was him.

He knew he had to do something, and how didn’t he notice the man’s leg before? Victor could see angry red seeping through a hole in rumpled trousers. He gently shook the man’s shoulders in hopes of waking him. Unfortunately, the man didn’t even stir at Victor’s tries of waking him.

The seconds passed by and Victor considered his opportunities. It was clear that he couldn’t just leave him here, after all he would never forgive himself for doing so. He looked down on the man’s face and panicked as he found his eyes slowly opening.

“It’s… you,” he said, his voice rough and weak.

He was smiling.

Oh God, he was smiling.

And it was the most beautiful thing Victor had seen in a long, long time.

“Yeah,” Victor breathed out, smiling as well. “Can you stand?” The dark-haired man seemed to think for a few seconds before nodding slowly. Victor put his arms around the man, securing him in his hold.  

A pained yelp escaped the stranger’s lips as he crumpled down again. Victor thanked his quick reaction as he caught him, heaving him up in his arms. The man seemed confused for a second, but quickly adjusted to his fate and hid his face in Victor’s chest.

Victor carried him all the way to his apartment, thankful for the streets being as good as empty. As he stood in the elevator, he looked down at the weight in his arms and noticed the soft snores coming from the man, figuring that he must have dozed off on the way.

Opening the door was hard, but he somehow managed to complete his task without interrupting the man’s sleep. Makkachin was excitedly wagging his tail as his owner came walking through the door. Victor laid him down on his bed, trying to remove his broken glasses as gently as possible. He removed his coat as well, taking a mental note to wash it before handing it back.

Victor felt the fangs of sadness engulf him as he looked down on the sleeping figure in front of him. Only now did he realize how thin the man was, the thin fabric of his shirt couldn’t hide the worrying state he was in.

The silver-haired man tended to the man’s leg first, cleaning and bandaging the wound tenderly. He put a glass of water on the nightstand before shutting the door quietly, dirty coat and broken glasses in hand. After feeding Makkachin, he put the coat in the washing machine and decided to take his beloved dog out for a walk, silently hoping to clear his racing thoughts a little.

When Yuuri woke up, it was to the soft patter of rain against what appeared to be a solid surface. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, caressed by its soft touch.

Was he dead?

Yuuri slowly opened his eyes to be met with… a ceiling?

Did heaven have a ceiling?

Probably not.

Yuuri looked around in what appeared to be a bedroom, trying to recall his memories of the day prior. His sight was fuzzy, and as Yuuri brought his hands up to wipe at his tired eyes, he found that he wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore.

His leg was bandaged, and Yuuri was glad to say that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before.

He listened to the noises in the background, content when he didn’t hear anything suspicious. Yuuri quickly crawled out of bed and continued his investigations on finding out how he got there.

There was a glass of water on his nightstand, next to it his glasses that appeared to be polished. His coat was neatly folded at the foot of the bed, freed from the dirt that covered it for the last weeks. Uncertainty crept into him as he went through all possibilities as to what could await him behind the door.

Reluctantly, he opened the door slightly to look through the small gap first. The hall was brightly lit, photos of a poodle covering its white surface. Yuuri felt some of the tension lessen as he was reminded with the memories of his own poodle.

He sneaked through hall and was met with an open kitchen that was lit just as brightly as the hall. It was spacious but felt cozy and welcoming at the same time. Yuuri’s worries vanished into nothingness as he took in his surroundings. On the counter stood a plate of pancakes, and the growl of his stomach reminded him of how hungry he really was.

Even though Yuuri couldn’t fathom out how he got here, he couldn’t help but feel at home in the apartment whose owner he didn’t even know.

The pancakes tasted heavily, creating a swirl of emotions flooding through Yuuri. He didn’t remember when he last ate pancakes, or anything in general, but at that moment, he couldn’t care any less.

The moment ended when Yuuri heard steps behind him. He was panicking, trying to find a place to hide and oh my god, they must have seen him already. Yuuri knew that whoever lived here must be standing right behind him as he slowly turned around to face them.

Recognition crept in as his eyes locked with the same ocean blues he fell in love with just a few days ago. Except that the man was even prettier up close. The sun illuminated his face, giving his silky hair an otherworldly glow.

Maybe, Yuuri thought, I’m in heaven after all.

Victor woke up early, the sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. Makkachin was curled up beside him, snoring softly. The Russian carded his hands through his poodle’s fur, smiling at the sight in front of him.

The man whose name Victor still didn’t know was probably sleeping as well.

The minutes ticked by, but Victor’s thought wouldn’t stop racing. He decided to let Makkachin sleep some more before getting up to prepare breakfast for when the man woke up, he would surely be hungry.

Makkachin joined him in the kitchen about twenty minutes later. After checking on the man, Victor decided to take his dog on his morning walk early. Usually, he wouldn’t have to get up for at least another two hours, but today was different. He had a guest, after all.

The poodle was walking along the shore, barking happily as he chased gulls. Victor loved quiet moments like this, moments in which he could forget about all his worries and just live. He breathed in the cold morning air, looking at the ocean as his thoughts carried on.  

Victor turned the key in the lock, anticipation heavy in the air. The sight that greeted him was unexpected, but so, so desperately needed. The man was sitting at his kitchen counter, downing piece after piece and looking like he was ready to engulf the whole world in a hug. Victor smiled, his thoughts drifting…

Could this one be a sight I get to see every morning?

As soon as he walked in, the dark-haired man frantically looked around the kitchen, as if searching for something. And then, he just stopped.

Victor watched the man slowly turning around, and when their eyes locked, Victor felt something in him shift into place.

“Have you slept well?” Victor asked, unclipping the leash from Makkachin’s collar. The man only nodded, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. “I’m glad. But may I have your name? I’m afraid we haven’t introduced each other properly before,” Victor said, filling the poodle’s bowl.

“Oh, it’s Yuuri, Yuuri Katsuki," the man- Yuuri- answered. Victor smiled, repeating the name in his head. “Yuuri. That’s a beautiful name. I’m Victor,” Victor answered. Yuuri was smiling again, and in that moment, Victor decided that he would do anything to keep that beautiful smile.

“Why am I here?” Yuuri asked silently, his voice just above a whisper.

“When I walked home yesterday, I found you all on your own. You were hurt, and I knew I couldn’t just leave you there,” Victor replied truthfully. Yuuri’s expression softened. “Thank you. For everything,” he whispered, smiling gently.

“You can take a shower if you want, get rid of that dirt. The bathroom’s right there,” Victor pointed to a door behind Yuuri, “use what you need and take your time.”

“A shower would be great,” Yuuri said, his smile faltering. “But I don’t have any clothes left.”

Victor thought for a moment before answering, “I’ll give you some of mine, we can get you new ones tomorrow, if you want.” Yuuri’s eyes widened, his expression a mixture of shock, as if he didn’t expect Victor’s words at all.

“You- You want me to stay here?” Yuuri mumbled.

“Of course. If you want to, that is,” Victor said gently, sitting down next to Yuuri. “There’s something about you, Yuuri….” The dark-haired man smiled before nodding eagerly, repeating ‘Thank you’ all over again. Yuuri stood up, giving Victor a soft smile before heading to the bathroom.

Victor smiled to no one in particular as he headed to his bedroom to gather some clothes for Yuuri. He chose the softest sweater, socks and pants he owned, folding it neatly in front of the bathroom door.

Makkachin quickly joined him on the sofa as he sat down to wait for Yuuri to finish his shower.

Time went by slowly, and by the time the door to the bathroom opened, Victor had fallen asleep again.

Yuuri was in denial that any of this was actually happening. Everything seemed too perfect to be real as he stood in the shower, letting the warm drops caress his skin. Realization creeped in slowly, making Yuuri’s heart race.

He was showering in the apartment of the most beautiful man who had just offered Yuuri to stay, lend him clothes without hesitation, let him sleep in a bed softer than anything Yuuri had ever slept in before and all the way acted like it was nothing.

Just two days ago, Yuuri had spent his nights curled in on himself, thankful for just a piece of cardboard to sleep on.

How did I get so lucky?

He stepped out of the shower and, for the first time in weeks, properly saw his reflection. He flinched at his hair that had gotten way too long, the stubble covering his cheeks and the way his bones stood out more than ever.

Yuuri looked around in the bathroom. He found a pair of scissors and a razor in one of the cupboards, silently debating on whether it would be appropriate to use them. Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he cleaned them after? He reluctantly agreed and began to shave his face.

The Japanese smiled at his reflection, touching his once rough cheeks that were now soft to the touch. His hair was back to the length it had originally and all the dirt that covered his body was gone. Yuuri’s leg was freshly bandaged under the fresh pair of trousers he wore. The sweater Victor laid out for him was soft and warm, as were all the other pieces of clothing. Yuuri stepped out of the bathroom and smiled at the sight that greeted him.

Victor was lying on the sofa with Makkachin on top of him, sound asleep. Yuuri decided to make himself useful and do the dishes, humming along to the bird’s songs.

A little while later Yuuri found himself in the solitude of a spacious balcony. The surface of the ocean shimmered in the winter sun as the gulls cried. Yuuri felt at peace, but that didn’t stop the doubts and worries from crashing back full force.

Why would he want you here?

You’ll be nothing but a burden to him!

Don’t inconvenience him like that.

Be grateful for everything he gives you.

Don’t be disappointed when he tells you to go.

Suddenly, Victor dashed through the double doors connecting the room he slept in to the balcony. Victor’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief as he spotted him sitting in the corner. Yuuri could see his eyes widening as his mouth opened and closed all over again.

And despite all his worries, Yuuri smiled at him.

When Victor woke up for the second time that day, he immediately realized that the noises of the shower were gone. He looked up at the bathroom door, finding it slightly ajar. He carefully stood up, trying not to wake the sleeping Makkachin. He peeked through the door and was met with the soft scent of cinnamon and oranges. As expected, the room was empty.

Victor checked the other rooms, fear growing inside of him when he didn’t find Yuuri anywhere. Peeking through the door leading to Yuuri’s room (or what hopefully would be), Victor felt his fear morph into panic. As all the other rooms, this one was empty as well.

It couldn’t be, could it?

Victor dashed into the room, frantically looking around as he stepped through the door on the balcony, hopes of finding Yuuri incredibly low.

He was robbed off his breath by the sight that greeted him.

Yuuri was staring back at him, his hair short and the stubble on his face gone. The sun softly highlighted his features as the winter win carded through his inky hair.

To put it short; Yuuri was drop-dead gorgeous. Victor tried to say something, but his voice disobeyed him as he stood there, staring at the breath-taking man in front of him.

“Is anything wrong?” Yuuri asked, suddenly looking self-conscious. “N-No, not at all. You… you look beautiful,” Victor replied, trying to gather his racing thoughts. Yuuri blushed a deep shade of red, looking anywhere but in Victor’s eyes. “T-thanks,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

Victor didn’t know what came over him, but he suddenly felt the need to know everything about the man. He came closer and sat down beside him, never once looking away from him. “Tell me everything about you, Yuuri,” Victor said shamelessly, tipping Yuuri’s chin.

Yuuri blushed even deeper at that, clearly struggling to find his words. “Well, um, I…,” he stammered, still not meeting the Russian’s eyes. Victor decided to take matters in his own hands as he asked question after question, slowly putting the puzzle that was Yuuri Katsuki together.

1. Yuuri was 20.
2. His favourite dish was called Katsudon.
3. He had had a Toy poodle who looked just like Makkachin.
4. Yuuri was born and raised in Hasetsu, Japan.
5. Yuuri accompanied his sister, Mari, to Russia in hopes of a better life after their parents died.
6. Mari’s boyfriend, who they lived with, broke up with her shortly after their arrival.
7. Mari died at the age of 27, according to the doctors, it was an accident.
8. Yuuri was left alone with no one else to turn to.
9. Victor would make sure to make Yuuri the happiest man alive.

It’s been three weeks and Yuuri had fully settled into his new life with Victor. They would walk Makkachin together, prepare breakfast and talk all the way. At around nine, Victor would leave to open his small flower shop and Yuuri would stay behind to take care of everything else that had to be done.

After four weeks, Yuuri came back from a walk with Makkachin to find a single yellow rose resting on the counter.

Joy, gladness and friendship.

And every day, another rose would follow.

After seven weeks, it were Lilies resting on the counter.

It’s heavenly to be with you.

And every day, more would follow.

After eleven weeks, it were White Carnations.

Pride, Beauty, living for love.

And ever day, another one would follow.

After thirteen weeks, Yuuri walked into their apartment and found Red Tulips resting on the counter.

Declaration of love.

And Yuuri returned the favour.

After two years, it was Victor waiting for him, Red & White roses in hand.

Unity.

And Yuuri said yes.

Epilogue

3 years later

I woke up to the birds singing their songs. The sun’s golden rays were peeking through the curtains, illuminating our bedroom in bright colours. My husband’s hair was tickling my cheek as his head rested on my chest. I bring my arms around him, kissing the top of his hair gently.

It’s a blessing, getting no wake up next to the love of your life every single day.

I couldn’t be more grateful to have him in my life. I want to keep waking up like this ‘till I’m old and grey, because I know that he will always love me.

As I will always love him.

I just want to lay here, hold him and watch him sleep, but I know that I have to get up eventually. Our shop isn’t going to open itself, after all.

I get up and start to prepare breakfast when two arms hug me from behind. I chuckle as I feel my husband’s head on my shoulder, resting my hands on his.

As  every day, we have breakfast together and walk our dogs, Makkachin and Vicchan, together. The ocean is beautiful, but nothing could top my beautiful, beautiful husband.

It was hard, at the beginning, when we had to keep our love for each other secret. But time went by, and eventually, they seemed to understand.

We got legally married, with flowers littering the floor.

I will never forget the day our souls intertwined, locking our lives in an unbreakable bond.

We open our small flower shop together, making arrangements while stealing kisses from each other.

It’s one of the quiet days, the sun is setting.

And our favourite song plays on the radio.

I look at him, hold out my hand and ask

“May I have this dance?”

And so we move to the slow rhythm, not once looking away from each other.

And when we get home,

I leave a single red rose in full blossom on the counter.

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