Viktor wakes up early, and Yuuri does not. This is a useful fact.
Ever since Yuuri came to St. Petersburg, Viktor has taken to “sleeping in.” He mentions this to Mila once, and she snickers, the sparkle in her eyes far too suggestive. Explaining is useless.
Besides, he doesn’t have to explain anything to Yuuri.
“I know you’re awake,” Yuuri groans, flicking one eye open. 6am is the time.
“I’m dozing,” Viktor says, turned on his side, head propped on his arm for a better view. “I might go back to sleep.”
Yuuri’s responding snort is absorbed by his pillow. “No you’re not,” he muffles into the covers. “Just gonna lay there and watch me, aren’t you.”
Viktor ponders this. “Creepy, isn’t it?”
In lieu of a response, Yuuri sleepily lays his right hand on Viktor’s face. It smells like their laundry detergent, and Yuuri, and faintly of dishwashing soap– to clean the wedding ring on his finger.
Married you for this, he can almost hear Yuuri saying.
Yuuri’s actual words are quite different. “My turn to stare just happens… late at night,” he concludes slowly, trailing off into a dream. Content, he pats at Viktor’s face.
“Oh,” whispers Viktor delightedly, and then Yuuri jerks forward so fast their heads knock together. “OW, darling–”
“Don’t start wearing makeup to bed now that I’ve said that,” Yuuri warns fiercely.
Viktor has always believed in true love, but with his fiance, he almost believes in mind-reading, too.