The first time Viktor hears him, he’s just come home from the grocery store. He sets the bags down and takes his coat off, perplexed at the sounds coming from the kitchen. Had he left the radio on…?
Something in him tells him to be quiet, so he slips his shoes off and tiptoes to the doorway, silently shushing a sleepy Makkachin along the way. The radio is on, turned down very low, but that’s not the voice he’s hearing.
It’s Yuuri he’s hearing.
Yuuri is washing dishes at the sink, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He’s swaying back and forth in time with the music, and Viktor does a double take because that’s Yuuri? Singing? He’s never heard Yuuri sing before…
As he stands there, he realizes something.
Yuuri’s voice is lovely. It’s rich and soft, with gentle vibrato and a fairly impressive range.
He’s utterly spellbound. It’s the prettiest voice he’s ever heard in his life.
He finds himself walking closer, drawn to Yuuri as if pulled by a magnet, making sure to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He stands there rather dumbly for a few minutes, captivated by his Yuuri’s singing(and probably falling even more in love with him), until Yuuri turns around, spots Viktor, and shrieks like he’s seen the ghost of an ancestor, nearly dropping a plate and catching it just in time. They stare at each other, Yuuri sputtering and Viktor speechless.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Viktor finally says, smiling at the pink blush that has poured into Yuuri’s cheeks.
Yuuri insists that he can’t sing, of course, but Viktor won’t have any of it. He wraps his flustered fiancé in a hug, and when he hears the grumpy muttering against his chest, it makes him smile.
From then on, Yuuri doesn’t stifle his singing around Viktor anymore.
Viktor loves hearing Yuuri sing.