The first time Victor asks Yuuri to marry him is 2 Long Island Iced Teas later after the banquet. He’s drooling on Chris’ tailored suit, and describing in detail their wedding. Chris pats his head and texts his husband their room number because there is now way in hell he’s carrying 200 lbs of drunk in love Russian by himself.
The second is a joke over dinner when they’ve been dancing around each other for weeks. Yuuri hands him a plate of something and tells him to “Just try it!” Victor gasps at the delicious flavor and without thinking shouts, “God, I could marry you right now.”
Mari snorts at their matching blushing faces, and how they pointedly ignore the fact they’ve been holding hands for 20 mins now.
The third time is in a cramped hotel in Fukuoka after 3 days without each other. Yuuri smells like the cheap bar soap that came with the room, and Makkachin is drooling onto the back of Victor’s leg. Victor stares at the ceiling and realizes.
“I’m going to marry you.” He whispers. “I’m going to marry you someday, and I can’t wait.”
Yuuri snorts in his sleep. Victor considers it a yes.
The gold catches the lights of Barcelona in a way that the silver medal can’t. Yuuri holds Victor’s hand the entire ride back to the hotel enjoying the quiet between. The peace after the ride of what the last two days have been. Their time together is short since Victor would be heading back to Russia to train for nationals while Yuuri did the same in Japan. They don’t talk about it.
Instead, Victor draws the ring to his lips and asks him again. “Will you marry me?”
Yuuri laughs and tugs him in for a slow kiss. “You could ask me a thousand time and my answer will be the same Vitya. Yes.”