Work Text:
Title: Against Expectations
Author: Triste
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Pairing: Victor/Yuuri
Rating: R
Status: Complete
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: This is a sort of prequel/fill in the gaps piece/sequel to The More They Stay the Same, but again it could probably work as a standalone fic. Also, I have an exam in less than a week, so why the hell I thought writing nearly 6000 words of ridiculousness when I should be studying instead is anyone’s guess. PLEASE LET ME PASS SO I CAN GET BACK TO WRITING MORE NONSENSE.
~~
It starts with a simple question.
“What should we do for your birthday this year?” asks Yuuri.
Victor doesn’t really feel like doing anything, because he’s turning thirty and that means he’ll be Officially Old from now on.
“We could go out for a meal somewhere,” Yuuri suggests.
Victor avoids the subject with a non-committal “mm” from behind his laptop. He’s been watching videos from his junior division days, but it stops being fun when his teenage self brings him to the realisation that he’ll never have hair like that again. Then the camera zooms in on his face and reminds him that he’ll never have skin like that again either, all rosy and glowing with the vitality of youth.
Something else he notices now, which never occurred to him at the time, is a trend where, the more successful his career becomes, the more hair Yakov seems to lose. Victor shrugs it off as a coincidence, but it still makes him uncomfortable enough to switch to watching Yuuri’s videos instead, because they soothe his soul and make him coo over his adorable nervousness.
“What is this feeling when you want to protect something tiny and helpless?” he sighs as younger Yuuri flubs yet another jump.
Present day Yuuri, however, is not so enamoured. “I was eighteen in that video. I’d only just moved to Detroit.”
Victor does a double take. The Yuuri onscreen could barely pass for twelve, never mind a legal adult.
Now he really is starting to feel old.
As usual, he goes to share his misery with Yakov, and it only takes Victor sighing dramatically three times in as many minutes to make a vein start throbbing in Yakov’s forehead.
“Stop that,” he warns.
“I can’t help it,” Victor mourns. “My life is nearly over.”
“You haven’t even lived half of it yet, so stop moping,” Yakov retorts. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re still the same insufferable brat now as you were when we first met. Now go and take your mid-life crisis to someone who might actually give a damn.”
“It’s an *existential* crisis,” Victor corrects, because he has no intention of acknowledging the other one. “There’s a difference.”
Getting a video call from Yuuri’s family and friends to wish him a happy early birthday also doesn’t do much to shake away the listlessness, which is the first thing Minako comments on when she receives his less than heartfelt thanks.
“Why the gloomy face?” she says, waving a half-downed beer glass at him disapprovingly via the webcam. “You should be happy!”
“How can I be happy?” Victor groans. “I’m already thirty.”
“You’re *only* thirty,” Minako argues. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you!”
She sounds just like Yakov, which makes Victor suddenly wonder how Minako manages to keep her youthful appearance despite being almost the same age as his former coach. His gaze slides over to Yuuko next, who really doesn’t look old enough to be the mother of three grade school children. Yuuri is the same, with his baby face, and his big doe eyes, and his full head of hair.
Is there something in the hot springs? Is Hasetsu the land of eternal youth?
At least the triplets seem to be ageing like regular humans, if only because they’re a lot taller than Victor remembers.
“They’ll be second years in the spring,” Yuuko says fondly. “Time sure flies, huh?”
Once again the triplets guide Victor to his destiny by snapping him out of his slump, and he bursts out of the bedroom where he’s been ordered to stay put until he’s called for, because he needs to see Yuri now, right away, and tell him that he’s finally found a solution to his problem.
Hiroko spots him first from where she’s been instructing Yuuri on his own phone, making him jump when she interrupts their conversation with a cheery “happy birthday, Vicchan!”
“Thank you, Mama,” Victor trills. Yuuri goes red and flustered.
“I thought the others were supposed to be distracting you?”
“They were, but then inspiration hit, and I really needed to–” Victor trails off when he sees that Yuuri has been busy cooking a romantic meal for two while he’s been occupied. He’s even bought roses and a fancy tablecloth, and it’s all so wonderful that Victor’s face suddenly doesn’t feel wide enough to contain his smile.
“I know you said you weren’t that keen on celebrating,” Yuuri says quietly, looking away shyly even though Victor is practically brimming over with joy right in front of him. “But I wanted to do something for you, so...”
“It’s perfect,” says Victor, gathering him into his arms and smothering kisses all over his face. “*You’re* perfect. I love you.”
“Victor, my mom is watching,” Yuuri protests, like Hiroko hasn’t already seen this scene a thousand times before, but she takes it as her cue to say her goodbyes and and spare him the embarrassment.
Victor insists on taking pictures of the finished meal from twenty different angles, and he’s only posted half of them online when Yuuri plucks his phone from his fingers and tells him to eat before the food gets cold. He even indulges Victor by feeding him when he opens his mouth expectantly, expression soft and affectionate as Victor alternates between “delicious!” and “amazing!” with every bite. Yuuri spoils him again when he agrees to wear Victor’s old Team Russia jersey, which he doesn’t do very often because it makes Victor lose his mind, and Victor is totally okay with being thirty now if it means getting birthday sex this hot.
He only remembers the big reveal he planned on making earlier when he comes to his senses during the middle of the night.
“Yuuri, wake up.” Yuuri stirs, but only enough to smack Victor in the face like he’s a particularly annoying fly. Victor is too impatient to be hurt by the rejection. “Wake up, come on.”
At last Yuuri opens his eyes, but the way he squints at Victor through the darkness is more serial killer than sleeping beauty. It still doesn't dull Victor’s enthusiasm, but he’s at least alert enough to grunt out, “What is it?”
“We need to make a baby,” Victor says urgently.
Yuuri looks this close to kicking him out and locking the door, but he humours Victor by repeating his words. “A baby?”
“That’s right.” Victor starts talking faster in case Yuuri decides to roll over and go back to sleep. “I’m thirty years old now. My biological clock is ticking. I have to reproduce while I’m still healthy and virile.”
He’s about to continue, but Yuuri shuts him up with a kiss and a stern look. It’s very hypocritical considering how much he hates it when Victor does the same to him when he tries communicating something important, but he’s tired and grumpy, so Victor can forgive him.
“I know it’s your birthday,” Yuuri says, doing his best to be patient, “but can you please have your mid-life crisis at a more reasonable time of the day?”
“It’s an *existential* crisis,” Victor replies automatically. “And it’s one that can only be solved by having children.”
Yuuri strokes his face with a sigh. “You shouldn’t make these decisions on a whim.”
He’s not taking Victor seriously at all, and Victor tells him as much.
It’s not a whim. He’s been thinking about it all day long, and he’s arrived at a perfectly logical end result. Besides, Yuuri has been off suppressants now that he and Victor are both mated and married, so it’s probably fine for him to stop taking contraception too now while he’s at it. He goes through heat cycles naturally now, which Victor tracks obsessively through an app on his phone to plan when their next epic sex marathon is due, and which still disturbs Yuuri sometimes, because Victor knows more about his body than he does.
“We’ll discuss this properly when I’m feeling more coherent,” Yuuri promises, but he has no recollection of it in the morning. It’s probably why waking him up at 3am for life changing choices wasn’t the best idea Victor has ever had.
So Victor does what he always does when he needs getting Yuuri to change his mind.
“No,” is the first word out of Yurio’s mouth. “On behalf of the entire human race, I forbid you from breeding. You can do whatever the hell you want with your own existence, but don’t go fucking up some poor kid’s life just because you randomly decided to procreate.”
It’s not the response Victor was hoping for. When did everyone start turning into Yakov, anyway?
“I’ve been thinking long and hard about this,” he insists. “I’ve also been doing lots of research into childrearing on the internet.”
That only makes Yurio even more horrified. “You can barely take care of yourself, never mind a helpless infant! You’d be the most useless parent ever! Katsudon might as well be raising this baby all on his own! Doesn’t that make you feel bad?”
“How rude. I’m sure I’d be a wonderful father.”
“You don’t do chores. You’d rather buy a new kitchen set than clean the dishes. You finally figured out how to use your damn washing machine but only remembered to unload it when the clothes inside had gone all mouldy. Katsudon was so pissed off he refused to talk to you for three whole days.”
It’s not Victor’s fault the white goods in his apartment have been sitting untouched since Yuuri moved in with him. Most of his things are dry clean after all, so the washing machine, like the rest of his kitchen, was mostly for show.
Luckily, he knows how to push Yurio’s buttons. “But you’d be there to help, right? Yuuri needs you just as much as I do. You’d never abandon him, right?”
Yurio flushes angrily at the implication that he might. “Of course I fucking wouldn’t, asshole, so quit guilt tripping me into going along with your stupid plan to make Katsudon broody.”
He must be getting smarter if he’s starting to recognise when Victor is being manipulative. Either that or he’s getting older and wiser, which is kind of sad when Victor thinks about it. He almost wishes Yurio would stay small and naïve forever, but at least he’s not lying about requiring his assistance.
“I promise it’ll be one hundred per cent successful. Yuuri has always had a soft spot for you. All you have to do is act cute and trigger his maternal instincts.”
Yurio doesn’t seem to share Victor’s confidence. “You know I’m not fifteen anymore, right?” He’s also no longer the same little, delicate-looking creature who beat Yuuri to the gold by a fraction of a point at their fated Grand Prix Final, but Victor assures him he’ll be totally okay.
“Don’t worry about that. Children never grow old in the eyes of their parents. Yakov says so too. He thinks I’m still a kid on the inside.”
“That’s because you are,” Yurio scoffs.
“Don’t talk back to your papa,” says Victor.
Yurio looks like he’s going to throw up.
~~
A few weeks later, Victor thinks he probably should have researched pregnancy symptoms too while studying about how to raise babies, because Yuuri’s sudden nesting urges wouldn’t have caught him so off guard if he’d recognised the signs when one has been successfully created. Then again, even Yuuri never expected to get pregnant so quickly or easily, but Victor supposes it’s because he’s still capable of surprising him after all these years.
Victor, of course, is over the moon. Yuuri, for some reason, is not.
He goes distant and withdraws into himself, and it worries Victor because he doesn’t understand why Yuuri isn’t happy. He tries giving him space at first by waiting for Yuuri to reach out on his own, and when that doesn’t happen, he tries giving him a little push instead.
“Talk to me,” he urges. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He needs Yuuri to put into words what he’s feeling, but Yuuri refuses to give a voice to the thoughts inside his head, and it only hurts both of them when he tells Victor it’s nothing when it obviously is.
So Victor keeps trying, because really, what else can he do when Yuuri is like this? But Yuuri just keeps shutting him out, and the more Victor pushes, the worse it gets. He doesn’t communicate. He doesn’t let Victor attend his routine appointments.
And then, one horrible day, he doesn’t come home.
For the first time, Victor starts to understand what anxiety feels like. He finally gets it now, what Yuuri calls catastrophising, because what if he never comes home? What if he’s having regrets?
He’s not the only one pining. Makkachin has taken to sitting by the front door, waiting for Yuuri to step inside and back into his life. Sometimes Victor joins him. Sometimes they sit there for hours until Makkachin falls asleep. Victor doesn’t sleep. He can’t. He’s too busy pining.
It gets worse when he realises Yuuri’s scent is beginning to fade from their apartment, and then Victor begins panicking in earnest until he remembers that he’s forgotten to do the laundry yet again. Clothing is a poor substitute for the real thing, but at least it still smells like Yuuri when Victor buries his face into it and breathes him in.
He goes back to watching old videos and wishing he could turn back time, but he regrets ever turning on his laptop when all it does is add to the misery when he sees his own face beaming back, blissfully unaware that his future will be full of hardship. Going through them in chronological order turns out to be an even bigger mistake. Realising how much his hairline has receded over the past fifteen years is horrifying and makes him want to measure it repeatedly and compulsively, because if he looks this bad now, what is he going to look like fifteen years from now? Will Yuri still want him anymore when he’s forty-five and nearly bald?
When he’s not obsessing over his hairline, he’s obsessing over Yuuri, and when he does manage to fall asleep, he wakes up again in a cold sweat, because there’s an empty space where Yuuri should be along with a gaping hole that’s gnawing ever deeper into his heart.
He’s crying into Yuuri’s underwear when Yurio checks in on him, and that’s all it takes for him to start backing slowly out of the door, but Victor latches on before he can escape. Yurio is too terrified to throw him off.
Victor hears his whispered phone call conversation from the kitchen while he cooks something to eat (“Yakov, I’m serious, you have to let me visit Katsudon. Victor is losing his shit”), and the food is totally tasteless when Yurio all but forces it down Victor’s throat, because Yuuri hasn’t been eating either apparently, and he refuses to let either of them keep moping themselves into malnourishment.
“What’s the point?” says Victor, morose. “I’m going bald. Yuuri is leaving me. Life isn’t worth living anymore without him or my hair in it.”
But Yurio won’t let him roll around in the contents of his laundry hamper either, just shoves it into the washing machine where it belongs. Whatever he says or does at Yakov and Lilia’s place afterwards accomplishes what all of Victor’s pining and praying could not, and it’s either magic or the power of youth that returns Yuuri to Victor’s side.
Victor wouldn’t be surprised if it’s both.
For one terrible, soul-crushing moment he thinks Yuuri might not accept his touch anymore, but then Yuuri flies into his embrace and holds on for dear life, and it’s like Victor feels whole again after far too long of being hollow.
Yuuri keeps saying how much he missed him between soft, hiccupping sobs, and Victor wants to say that he missed him too, that he missed him more, and to please, please, please, never leave his side again, but it’s all he can do just to gulp down greedy lungfuls of Yuuri’s scent, to soak in every scrap of warmth he has to give, because Victor has been so, so cold all by himself.
“You really need to stop disappearing out of my life without warning,” he says, need laid bare for the whole world to see. “It’s really not good for my heart. Or my hair,” he adds, but Yuuri guides Victor’s mouth to the mark that ties them together as his fingers run patient and gentle over his scalp.
It’s not enough, just breathing in Yuuri’s scent. Victor wants to plaster himself all over his body until the only thing Yuuri smells of anymore is him, little sounds of frustration working out of his throat when the collar of Yuuri’s shirt keeps getting in the way.
“Victor, let go,” Yuuri whispers. Victor’s grip tightens reflexively, and he shakes his head no. Yuuri tries again. “I’m going to get undressed.”
He averts his gaze as he strips, and Victor has to fight the urge to do it for him when he sees how badly Yuuri’s hands are shaking, but Yuuri needs to do this on his own right now, no matter how much Victor wants to help. Victor sheds his own clothes in a fraction of the time that Yuuri took, pushing him onto the bed so he can cover Yuuri’s body with his own.
It’s better like this with nothing in between them, and it’s not even sexual at first when Victor works his scent into Yuuri’s skin. He starts off at Yuuri’s neck, and he’s in no rush whatsoever as he slowly descends down his throat, over his collarbones and under his arms, but it’s only the drag of his cheek against Yuuri’s swollen nipples that makes him gasp and jerk.
“Don’t do that,” he says, breathless, but Victor is very good at going deaf when it suits him, especially if it means getting another reaction like that one. “Victor,” he moans, and the fingers in his hair are more insistent than they were earlier, pushing him back when before they were pulling him close.
“Does it hurt?” Victor says.
Yuuri shakes his head.
“How long have you been like this?”
“A while,” Yuuri says vaguely. “Even clothes are a distraction.”
“Don’t wear any then,” Victor says in total seriousness. “Like ever, preferably.”
Yuuri tells him not to be preposterous, but Victor swipes his tongue across one nipple, and the noise that Yuuri makes is just unreal. He pulls again at Victor’s hair and pants his name when Victor starts to suck, moaning louder at the bite and tug of teeth until he’s squirming under Victor and rubbing his dick into his hip.
It’s Victor’s turn to suck his breath in sharply when he reaches lower to find that Yuuri’s gone slick. He never does outside his heats, but here is, wet and ready to be fucked even though Victor has barely touched him.
“Could you come?” Victor asks, awed. “Just from this?”
Yuuri swallows loudly. “Maybe,” he whispers, sounding almost as turned on as Victor by the suggestion. “I’m not sure.”
Victor gets him off in less than five minutes, and he’d be cursing himself for not drawing this out longer if only Yuuri weren’t lifting his hips and calling out for Victor’s cock.
Victor doesn’t last. It only takes a few helpless, shuddering thrusts for him to fall apart. He should be embarrassed, but all he wants to do is stay balls deep in Yuuri for at least the next five days. Oh, who is he kidding. He wants to stay balls deep in Yuuri for the rest of his life, but his dick is going soft already, so he has to use his fingers instead to keep Yuuri open for him. He wants him filthy and obscene and dripping with Victor’s come, but he’s not in rut and Yuuri’s not in heat, no matter how his body might be tricking him otherwise. He still gets off again though, but he’s begging Victor to stop, oversensitive and over stimulated.
“That was incredible,” Victor breathes.
“That was ridiculous,” Yuuri corrects, but he smiles anyway.
But Victor still needs to know why Yuuri hates his own body so much when it can do amazing things like this. Yuuri explains it as best as he can about why he went and walled himself off.
“Because it’s scary,” he says, haltingly. “You’re growing into a body that doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s like presenting for the first time and going through puberty all over again. That wasn’t exactly a great experience.”
In other words, because Yuuri has a habit of understating things, it was fairly traumatic.
“And now?” Victor prompts. “How was this experience?”
Yuuri pauses, trying to find the words, and gives in with, “It was still ridiculous.”
Victor laughs, but his voice is the opposite of humorous when he takes Yuuri’s hand to drop a kiss onto his wedding ring. “I know I keep telling you this, but it’s okay if you rely on me more. Really. I *want* you to.”
“Okay,” Yuuri says, bringing Victor’s hand to his lips so he can return his earlier gesture. “Okay.”
~~
He wears Victor’s clothes a lot after that, because he just can’t bear to be apart from him. Victor wants him to be naked all the time, but he also wants Yuuri to wear his clothes all the time. It’s a terrible dilemma.
He tries squeezing himself into something of Yuuri’s, once, but he’s too big and it doesn’t work, because he comes bursting out of the seams.
As usual, he turns to Yakov for advice.
“Do you understand this pain?” he asks. “Can you possibly comprehend the level of my suffering?”
“WHY ARE YOU EVEN TELLING ME THIS?” Yakov bellows down the phone.
~~
For once, Yuuri is the one who wakes Victor up at some ungodly hour. Victor grunts in response, eyes still closed when Yuuri guides a hand to his stomach, and it takes a few more seconds for him to register the faintest flutter of movement under his palm.
Suddenly he’s wide-awake. “Wait, is that–”
“Yeah,” says Yuuri, eyes warm and bright, and impossibly soft. “It is.”
Victor’s jaw drops. His immediate instinct is to reach for his phone, but Yuuri shakes his head.
“You can post about it online in the morning. For now, be quiet.”
How on earth can he keep this to himself, Victor wants to say, he’s practically vibrating with the urge to call someone and share the news, but Yuuri places his hand over Victor’s and squeezes. He never even looks at Victor the way he’s staring down at his stomach right now, and Victor would be jealous if only he hadn’t heard Yuuri’s next words.
“There’s an actual person in there,” he says, and Victor squeezes back, eyes suspiciously damp.
“It’s not just a clump of cells anymore, huh?”
“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees. "I guess it's not."
~~
Something shifts after that. He becomes more comfortable with himself, with his feelings, and with his appearance. Victor didn’t think it would be possible, but pregnancy is making Yuuri more attractive than ever. It’s not even his personal bias speaking either when Yuuri starts to move with an easy, confident grace that he rarely possesses off the ice.
“Stop drooling,” he says as Victor stares at him with hearts in his eyes.
“How can I not?” Victor protests. “You’re getting really sexy.”
Yuuri’s response is predictable. “Honestly, Victor.”
He insists he’s far too big and clumsy to be sexy, but the number of likes and reblogs on Victor’s Instagram feed says otherwise.
“Tell your stupid followers to stop using hash tag #MILF for Katsudon,” growls Yurio.
“Never,” says Victor.
He shoves the plushie he brought with him under Yuuri’s nose anyway. “Early present. Babies love shit like this, right?” Yurio’s flails are futile when Yuuri’s embrace squeezes him to within an inch of his life. “Since when were you this strong? Have you powered up from pregnancy or something?”
Yuuri doesn’t let go, just leans into his ear to say, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Yurio goes scarlet, and his face contorts in three different directions that all yell WHAT IS THIS EMOTION AND HOW DO I DEAL WITH IT? Victor mimes the act of hugging, and Yurio gingerly places his hands on Yuuri’s back. “Whatever,” he says gruffly, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks for the cat,” says Yuuri. “It’s very cute.”
“It’s a tiger, dammit! How is that not obvious?”
~~
Victor is in the middle of demonstrating the amazing parenting skills that nobody believes he possesses for the second time by practicing changing diapers on Makkachin when Yuuri suggests they go shopping. It’s not something he’d normally do, probably because it’s not an activity he’s ever shared Victor’s enthusiasm for.
“You mean for groceries and stuff?”
“I mean for baby stuff.”
Victor makes a dive for his credit card. Finally, Yuuri has given him permission to splurge, although Yuuri insists that they’re just getting the essentials. He lets Victor drag him around until they take a break, and then they make a scene when Victor procures a stool for him to sit on, takes off his shoes and socks and starts massaging his swollen ankles.
“Victor, we’re in public!”
They’re also attracting a small crowd of people, most of them taking pictures with their cellphones.
“Victor, that’s enough,” Yuuri despairs.
“As you wish,” Victor says smoothly, and men and women alike swoon when he gives one last kiss to Yuuri’s tired feet.
It doesn’t even matter that Yuuri won’t let him buy more than they actually need when it comes to coordinating tiny outfits for their offspring, because the photos of their shopping trip end up going viral and the sponsorship offers begin flooding in.
“I don’t think we’ll ever have to buy new clothes again,” says Yuuri, more budget conscious after the phone rings with yet another fashion designer begging for their baby to model their new range.
Victor is torn between wanting to take advantage and wanting to tell them all that he’s perfectly capable of providing for his family, thank you very much, but Yuuri tells him he’s an idiot for turning down free things, so he secretly orders far too many things from Amazon instead.
~~
Hiroko flies out to spend a week with them at Victor’s insistence. Yuuri says that he’s fine and that she shouldn’t spend so much time away from the inn while things are so busy, but the expression on his face when they pick her up at the airport tells a different story. He’s always been a mama’s boy after all, and although Yakov and Lila do what they can to be supportive, he needs someone who can offer him more practical experience.
Hiroko fusses over them both, but mostly over Yuuri, and he lets her dote on him for once as she comments constantly about how healthy he looks and what a good parent he’s going to be.
“What about me?” Victor prods, eager for praise and encouragement to be heaped upon him too.
Hiroko smiles and pats him on the head. “You know you can always call me if you need to,” she tells Yuuri. “Don’t worry about the time difference. Just use that Facetunes thing to get in touch.”
“It’s Facetime, mom,” says Yuuri.
Victor sulks to Yakov about his mother-in-law’s lack of confidence in him, and Yakov tells him to stop being such a diva.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re useless, Vitya. We’ve got enough manpower on our side to pick up your slack.”
Victor is on the verge of sassing him back when something suddenly occurs to him. “Why did you never any kids?”
Yakov’s face goes tight, but not with anger this time. Victor realises belatedly that it’s a very personal question, and that it’s been delivered with his usual thoughtlessness and insensitivity where his former coach is concerned. He’s about to apologise when Yakov says, quietly, “There was never any time. Before I knew it, it was already too late.”
Victor doesn’t know how to respond. He’s not used to Yakov being this open and sincere with him, so he opts to lighten the mood instead. “Don’t be sad. Yuuri and I will give you lots of grandchildren. You’ll always be our number one speed dial babysitter.”
Yakov huffs to hide the way his mouth turns up at the corners. “Just one would be more than enough.”
Oh, Victor realises. They’re having a moment.
“Hold on, I need to post about this.”
The vein in Yakov’s forehead makes an untimely reappearance. “Can’t you leave your phone alone for five damn minutes?!”
~~
Because Victor enjoys talking about his beloved husband even more than he enjoys talking about himself, he cheerfully agrees to be interviewed when they should be cheering for Yurio, but instead of commenting on his short programme, he brushes any questions aside and says, “Now let me tell you about *my* Yuuri.”
The reporter subtly attempts to get him back on topic, but Victor interrupts every single time by waxing poetically about how Yuuri is growing more and more beautiful with every passing day.
Meanwhile, Yakov and Yurio are busy fussing over the very person Victor can’t stop gushing over.
“Somebody get a chair so Katsudon can sit down!” Yurio orders.
“I’m fine,” says Yuuri.
“But what if you’re not?” Yurio frets. “What if you go into labour while I’m out on the ice? I know you totally would, just to spite me.”
Yuuri holds him close and strokes his hair. “It’ll be fine,” he says again, kissing Yurio’s check and making him blush. “*You’ll* be fine. You’re going to do great. You’re going to win.”
“I would anyway even if you weren’t here to wave your stupid banners at me,” Yurio blusters, but he gives Yuuri an obligatory awkward pat on the back regardless.
Yuuri’s other fanboy is far more open with the adoration of his idol. “I’ll do my best, so please cheer for me too,” says Minami, fidgeting nervously before plucking up the courage to blurt out, “If it’s not too much trouble, could I also have a hug and a–” his voice jumps a whole octave as he manages to stutter out “–k-k-kiss?”
Yurio bristles with resentment when Yuuri indulges the request with an affectionate smile.
“Good luck,” he says, touching his lips to Minami’s flaming cheek.
Minami stares with the awe of someone who’s just had a religious experience. “I’ll never wash my face again.”
Everyone else takes that as their cue for Yuuri to bestow his blessings upon them too, crowding around him like he’s the holy mother, but there’s one person who stays well out of reach.
“The Leroy family has no intention of losing to the Nikiforovs!” JJ declares, flashing his signature pose before proudly placing an arm around his own expectant partner when Victor returns to ward off Yuuri’s many admirers. “That includes you, Yuri Plistesky!”
Any other time and Yurio would balk at being included with Victor, but he’s willing to join forces if it means pissing off someone he hates more. Victor’s disinterest, however, is just brutal as Yurio’s hostility.
“Have we met these people before?”
“Don’t be mean, Victor,” chides Yuuri. “You know who JJ and Isabella are. Our wedding completely overshadowed theirs, remember?”
“I have no recollection of that happening," says Victor.
“You mean you weren’t paying any attention.”
JJ wilts at the lack of acknowledgement, so Yuuri takes pity on him with a hug and a kiss.
“Good luck to you too,” he says, but JJ, frozen in panic, doesn’t hear it.
He also never really recovers for his short programme, and Yuuri’s support ends up having the opposite of its intended effect. He’s completely distracted, flubbing one jump after another. Yurio can barely contain his glee.
“Hug him again for the free skate,” he says, but JJ flees in terror before Yuuri can even open his arms.
~~
Yuuri starts to tire more easily during the last few weeks of his pregnancy, and a tired Yuuri is usually an irritable Yuuri, except for when he’s horny, and then it’s Victor who’s left feeling the fatigue.
Like now, when all he can do is lie there as Yuuri pushes him onto his back, swinging a leg over his hip and sinking down onto his cock, and Victor can only watch, dazed, as the muscles in Yuuri’s glorious thighs tense and ripple with every lift and lower of his body.
He’s barely even caught his breath before he asks, “Can you go again?”
Victor gives a tortured moan.
The problem is that one quick and dirty fuck isn’t enough to satisfy Yuuri when he’s like this, he wants multiple quick and dirty fucks, sometimes consecutively, and as much as it pains Victor both mentally and physically to admit it, he just can’t keep up.
“I really must be getting old,” he whines to Yakov. “Do you have any Viagra I can use?”
Yakov disconnects the call.
~~
Sex isn’t the only thing Yuuri becomes insatiable for over the next few days. He’s nesting again now, but the urges are getting more intense. It’s almost like he’s drunk as he waddles from one person to the next, rubbing his face all over everyone and everything until the entire ice rink is covered in his scent.
Yurio is the main target of his mothering, and he stands stiffly with his arms by his sides as Yuuri nuzzles his neck, crooning in contentment while Mila howls with laughter at them through her camera phone.
“I hate you all,” he says through gritted teeth.
“You’re going to be an uncle soon,” Yuuri tells him.
“Yeah,” Yurio grunts, trying for sarcasm and failing miserably, because he’s had Yuuri’s due date marked down on his calendar even longer than Victor. “I kind of noticed.”
It’s impossible not to. Yuuri is huge and ready to pop, and it makes Yurio constantly nervous that he’s going to give birth someplace where he can’t be near him.
His worries are for nought in the end, because Yuuri’s due date comes and goes.
“It’s going to happen while I’m stuck on the other side of the world in a competition, isn't it,” Yurio accuses.
“Don’t worry,” Victor says. “I’ll live Tweet the occasion for you.”
“No you won’t,” Yuuri says sternly.
~~
Their baby gets born fine in the end, and Yuuri threatens to never sleep with Victor again when he suggests registering his middle name as Aeroflot.
He even turns out to be a capable parent, against everyone’s expectations. He just never remembers to do chores when Yuuri asks him.