Yuuri suprises Viktor with homemade mulled wine. After the drink's finished Viktor feels awful and accidentally leaves his mark in the family home by puking the wine back up over the carpet and cushions (red wine stains are the worst), Yuuri's left to assure him it's alright.
Yuuri glances across the dinner table, a dreamy smile quirking his lips and the remainder of his dinner completely forgotten.
Viktor sits beside him, gesticulating animatedly as the rest of the company erupts into hysterics at the conclusion of his story. Yuuri’s heard it before but it still makes him laugh. He squeezes his boyfriend’s thigh appreciatively underneath the table.
Viktor turns toward him, a beautiful smile illuminating his handsome features as he leans in to give Yuuri a quick kiss on the forehead. Yuuri feels his entire face flush with heat; his stomach never fails to swarm with butterflies anytime Viktor’s lips touch him. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink already and Viktor’s affectionate side is only amplified by the alcohol. He can barely keep his hands off of Yuuri. It’s simultaneously sweet and a little embarrassing.
“You guys are gonna kill me,” Yuuri’s sister bemoans, gathering up the empty plates. “Stop being so damn adorable. It’s giving me hives.”
Viktor chuckles, reaching over to take another sip of his wine, “That dinner was amazing. Though it doesn’t surprise me that Yuuri’s family members are also exceptionally skilled.”
Mari blushes furiously, waving away the compliment as she directs the kids towards their bedroom. “You two head outside if you like. I’ve got to clean up in here.”
“We can help, Mari,” Yuuri volunteers, but his sister cuts him off.
“Not a chance. You two would just be in the way with all of your groping.”
“M-Mari! That’s not -” Yuuri sputters, but Viktor just throws his head back and laughs. He grabs his glass, takes Yuuri by the hand, and together they stumble out onto the patio into the chilly night air.
“I like your family,” Viktor says, raising the glass to his lips. “They don’t take anything too seriously.”
“I don’t know about that,” Yuuri scratches his head, gazing out towards the hot springs.
“I almost forgot,” Viktor’s smile brightens as he pulls out a package from his coat pocket, excitedly handing it over. “I have something for you. Merry Christmas, Yuuri!”
Viktor waits impatiently for Yuuri to unwrap the paper, helping him with the bow as Yuuri gapes at the midnight-blue, knitted scarf.
“It’s for practice. You’re always shivering. Perhaps this will help,” Viktor tugs the scarf over his neck, adjusting it snuggly around Yuuri’s shoulders.
Instead of thanking him, Yuuri throws his arms around Viktor’s neck, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder and pulling him close.
“You like the gift, then?” Viktor chuckles and returns the hug, stroking gently down the arc of Yuuri’s back. “I’m glad.”
“I have something for you, too,” Yuuri announces, blinking the moisture from his eyes. “Wait here,” he instructs, heading back into the house. Moments later, he emerges cradling a glass bottle and two stems. He hands the bottle to Viktor who takes a sniff.
“I heard you mention something about mulled wine being a staple at your holiday gatherings,” Yuuri explains, shrugging his shoulders in embarrassment. “I know you couldn’t be at home with them this year, so I made you some. I hope it tastes all right. I followed a recipe my grandmother loaned me.”
For once, Viktor has no words. His eyes shine as he accepts the offered cup, tilting the smooth glass to his lips. Yuuri watches with bated breath as Viktor takes his first sip. He swirls the liquid in his mouth before swallowing, closing his eyes as the flavors dance across his tongue.
“Oh, Yuuri,” he moans, inhaling the spicy aroma. “This is delicious. Is that nutmeg?”
Yuuri beams with the praise, nodding his head as he takes a sip of his own beverage. It’s actually really good. He can’t believe it turned out so well.
Viktor quickly polishes off his first glass and pours himself another.
“You take such good care of me, lyubov moya,” Viktor leans in for a kiss. It lingers so long that when he finally pulls away, Yuuri is panting for breath.
Lost in conversation, it’s almost half an hour before Yuuri realizes he’s only finished half of his second glass and yet the bottle is down to the dregs. Viktor’s shoulder slumps heavily beside him, silver bangs hanging in the older man’s face as he sways in place.
“Viktor?” Yuuri reaches over to brush a few of the stray hairs from his forehead. Viktor smiles, leaning into the touch with a deep sigh. “Are you all right?”
“I…’m perfect,” Viktor replies, voice lilting with a noticeable slur. His eyes are drooping and Yuuri can’t help but think maybe he’s overdone it just a little.
“You’ve had a lot to drink,” Yuuri whispers, smiling at the way Viktor’s nose scrunches under the observation. “Maybe we should go inside.”
Viktor’s good mood seems to deflate a bit, but he nods agreeably and grabs Yuuri’s hand, “Yes, I think…I’d like to lie down, now.”
Yuuri helps Viktor to his feet, grunting under the extra weight as his boyfriend sags against him, practically useless on his feet. Viktor turns his head, humming something into Yuuri’s neck, followed by a drunken giggle and hiccups of hot air vibrating against his skin.
“Here, sit down,” Yuuri instructs, easing Viktor down onto the couch. The older boy teeters but remains upright, blinking at Yuuri with a woozy grin and bleary eyes. “I’ll get you some water.”
When Yuuri returns, he finds Viktor hunched over on the couch, swaying dangerously and jolting with poorly suppressed hiccups. He glances up, trying to conjure some semblance of his usual smile.
“You didn’t leave,” he whispers, glassy eyes so earnest it makes Yuuri’s chest ache.
“What are you talking about?” Yuuri laughs gently, handing the water over to Viktor. “Of course I didn’t leave.”
“I don’t know…I thought -“ Viktor frowns, raising the back of his fist to his lips as his cheeks inflate with a sudden belch. “Oh…I’m sorry.”
Yuuri tries to coax Viktor to drink but his boyfriend refuses, swallowing thickly around another soft burp.
“Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice is weak, his words slurring together like melting molasses. “I don’ feel so - hic!”
Yuuri places his hand on Viktor’s back, intending to urge him to lie down when Mari enters the living room carrying a plate of sweets.
“I hope you boys are still hungry,” she chirps, setting the platter down on the coffee table.
Viktor has gone rigid beneath Yuuri’s hand. He ducks his head, turning away as a much wetter belch bubbles up. He’s resorted to cupping his mouth, throat working convulsively as he struggles to control himself.
“Uh, Viktor?” Mari’s eyes narrow in concern as Yuuri kneels down in front of his boyfriend, planting a steady hand on his knee.
“Oh…” Viktor gulps, voice clipped with panic. His upper body suddenly lurches with a violent retch. He gags once, twice; the precursor to a dark red flood of liquid that spills out from between his fingers, spraying all over the cream-colored couch cushions and carpet.
“Oh my god,” Mari gasps, looking as horrified as Yuuri feels.
Viktor coughs harshly, another watery, crimson stream spurting out from behind his hand. He clamps down on a belching gag, whimpering desperately as the dry-heaves send him convulsing over his own lap.
“Okay, okay,” Yuuri dumps out a decorative bowl on the coffee table housing a display of plastic fruit and shoves it into Viktor’s lap.
“Derr`mo,” Viktor curses, clutching viciously at the bowl as his back arches and a fresh torrent of sick gurgles out of his mouth, splattering noisily into the container.
“It’s all right,” Yuuri soothes, running his hand down his boyfriend’s shuddering back in slow arcs. He doesn’t know what else to do. This is light-years outside of his comfort zone. He’s never seen Viktor get sick before.
Viktor spits up one last mouthful before glancing up. His eyes are filled with tears, cheeks flushed bright pink and there’s a trail of saliva dangling from his bottom lip that he can’t seem to get rid of.
“You’re a mess,” Yuuri smiles softly, reaching up to brush Viktor’s hair behind his ears and thumb away the tears trailing down his cheeks.
“Yu’ - hic - Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice hitches with a wobbling hiccup. He glances down at the soiled cushions, then at his sticky hands. “I’m so s-sorry…I didn’t -“
“Hey, it’s all right,” Yuuri shushes, easing the sloshing bowl out of his grasp. “This was probably my fault.”
“How is this your fault?” Mari demands, surveying the damage to the couch with an unamused scowl.
Viktor immediately shrinks but Yuuri holds his ground, “I wanted it to feel like home.”
Beside him Viktor sniffs, his bottom lip quivering as fat tears begin rolling down his face. Disregarding the mess, he leans down to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s neck, nuzzling his nose against the younger man’s shoulder.
“Aaw, Yuuri,” he slides off the couch, knees thumping onto the floor as he slumps haphazardly, draping himself over his boyfriend. “You did such a - hic - good job. I don’t feel lonely at all.”
As Viktor continues gushing compliments and sniffling into Yuuri’s shoulder, Mari rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the pair.
“I give up,” she throws her hands in the air before pointing a threatening you-better-clean-this-shit-up finger at Yuuri.
“I - I ruined your couch,” Viktor moans, inhaling a shaky breath as he clings to Yuuri like a drunken octopus on a mission to suffocate him.
“Don’t worry,” Yuuri huffs a good-natured laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of Viktor’s head. “It’s just stuff.”
“Your sister’s - ulp - mad at me.”
“She’ll get over it,” Yuuri promises. Viktor rests his forehead against Yuuri’s chest and exhales a tearful sigh. “I’m just happy you enjoyed your Christmas present.”
“I - hic - did! I really did.”
Perhaps a little too much.
Yuuri pets Viktor’s hair, easing him upright, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”