summary: Across the ocean, Yuuri Katsuki is about to make his senior debut at the Grand Prix, and there is not a soul alive who believes the young man is coming for less than gold and a new world record. He’d already broken the record at the Juniors last year, so now he has a reputation to maintain.
Victor is just enamored by his body, which is fluid and masterful. He wishes he had even an ounce of Katsuki’s bountiful grace. “I want to dance,” Victor murmurs, playing with the ends of his long, long hair. “I want to make music with my body, Yakov.” word count: ~3.5k rating: t ✮read on ao3 | ✮writing tag | ✮RQs closed - send me asks + fic q’s!
Hey do you have any Victor or Yuuri or both headcanons bc it's been a rough night
I ALWAYS have hc’s! How about some with Saint Petersburg.
The first month is a little weird as they fall into a rhythm. Victor is shockingly quiet at home, Yuuri realizes. Used to living by himself. It takes a while for them to find that middle of two people who lived on their own (The Inn was well…an Inn) but when they do it’s perfect.
Victor sprawling on the couch so his feet can rest in Yuuri’s lap while reading. Occasionally breaking the silence to just say I love you because he looked up and saw THE Yuuri Katsuki on his couch.
Yuuri plays with Makkachin a lot. He had missed having a poodle, and he spent the majority of their time on the floor with her rolling around, playing tug of war with her rope, and baby talking her while Victor stared love struck.
Moving to SP was kind of hard on Makkachin since the warmth of Japan, and the people at the Inn spoiled her rotten. Victor even had to put her on a diet since she gained so much weight, and her begging became ridiculous. The moment the season ends, Yuuri comes home with a wiggling mess of curls. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. I wanted it to be a surprise. Is she ok?” And Victor in tears pressing her to the face so he can get kisses, “Of course. She’s perfect. We’re perfect. Makkachin! Come meet your baby sister!”
The town loves their local power couple. At first Yuuri accepts his fate of being in Victor’s shadow a bit (It IS his home town) but then he’s getting tugged into photos too, receiving letters in cyrillic that Victor happily reads him, and one of the first things he learns to say in Russian is, “Thank you for your support!”
They’re always dancing. Music, no music, with Makkachin, seductively, laughing. Never stop dancing.
The first time they have “alone time” Makkachin nearly broke down the door, and nearly nipped at Victor when he came near Yuuri. Yuuri thought it was the funniest thing ever. Victor wept.