Work Text:
When Yuuri awoke, it was still dark. He reached blearily for his glasses, hand fumbling on his bedside table before he finally found them and pushed them onto his nose.
He yawned and sat up in bed, duvet pooling around his waist and reached to place his hand on the other side, out of habit. He was met by air, and had to remind himself that he was no longer in the large bed he shared with Viktor, but his own single bed, back home, at Yu-topia Akatsuki.
Yuuri fiddled with his sheets, looking down and squinting at his hands as he did so. The young man couldn’t help but smile as the gold ring he had been wearing for over three years glinted, even in the dark. In a matter of hours, it would be moving to a new home, soon to be comfortable on his left hand.
He couldn’t deny he missed Viktor- it had been over two days since they’d seen each other and, while it was nowhere near the longest time they’d spent apart, Yuuri felt as though it had been a lifetime. Perhaps it was the excitement of finally marrying the man he’d loved for so long making Yuuri antsy, but he didn’t think he would last until the wedding at that rate. His anxieties may have long since calmed down about performances, but this was the most important one of his life, and he felt he was allowed to be nervous.
A sharp ringing made Yuuri jump, and he grumbled under his breath as he picked up his phone, swiping the answer button without checking the caller ID.
“Have you seen the pictures on Viktor’s Instagram?! They clearly had a much wilder night that us- I told you we should have gone clubbing instead of staying in and-”
“Phichit,” Yuuri cut off his friend, scratching his scalp lazily and leaning back against his headboard. As excitable as his friend was (and as little as he wanted to hear about his fiance’s bachelor party) he was glad to hear a friendly voice.
“You’re right,” Phichit said, lowering his voice slightly. “How are you? It’s pretty early- I’m surprised you’re awake.”
“I didn’t get the best night’s sleep,” Yuuri admitted. The churning in his stomach had prevented him from falling asleep, even if he was tired from staying up so late with his friends.
“I’ll make you some coffee!” Phichit offered cheerily, and Yuuri could hear the other man stumbling around his room across the hall. He snorted, a small smile playing on his lips, and bid his friend goodbye, placing his phone on his lap once he hung up.
It was a few minutes before Phichit entered Yuuri’s room, without knocking, two mugs clutched in hands and a wide grin on his face.
He flicked on the lights as he walked towards the bed, perching on the end and shoving a mug into Yuuri’s hands. The older man scrambled with it, just managing not to spill anything, and took a sip, watching his friend through the steamed up lenses of his glasses.
“Excited?” Phichit asked, draining half of his own coffee in one gulp.
“Yeah,” Yuuri answered, and his heart started to hammer in his chest. Before he could start to run through the various negative scenarios he had come up with last night, Phichit whipped out his phone and flicked through it, then shoving it into Yuuri’s face.
He was on Viktor’s Instagram, and had selected an image of the man throwing up a peace sign in a dark room, strobe lights flashing behind him, cheeks flushed from alcohol. There was a pole standing in the corner, a man in what looked like a pair of glittering booty shorts wrapped around it. Upon inspection, it looked a whole lot like Chris…
Underneath was a caption, that read: I’m having flashbacks to a certain banquet where I fell in love… #can’twaittobemarried #iloveyuuri #victuuri5ever
Yuuri smiled and felt his cheeks heat up- even after almost four years of knowing Viktor, and his confidence sky-rocketing over his career, he still couldn’t help but feel somewhat embarrassed when Viktor waxed lyrical about him.
He scrolled through the rest of the images quickly, documenting the group’s progression from tipsy to blackout drunk, all tagged with various sappy messages about Yuuri. He grinned and passed the phone back to his best friend.
“He’s so sweet to you, honestly-” Phichit was cut off by a shrill yell from the room directly beside Yuuri’s.
“I can hear you two PIGGIES giggling in there!” Yurio banged on the wall a few times, and he could be heard grumbling to himself angrily.
“Come in here, Yurio!” Phichit called, undeterred by the younger man’s aggressive tone. “I think we’ll start getting ready now, then go down for breakfast- the car should be down here around eleven thirty, so we’ve got a lot of time-”
Phichit was interrupted once again by Yurio throwing open the door, allowing it to slam onto the wall, a dark look on his face.
“My name isn’t Yurio,” he said, voice low and eyes lidded, but the other two men couldn’t help but smile at the impressive bed-head he donned, plus the slightly red eyes, due to the night of drinking they had all endured.
“Okay, Yurio,” Phichit said, standing up and walking past the other man, ruffling his hair gently and unlocking his phone. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee. Wake everyone up, and then we can have breakfast, okay?” Without waiting for a response, Phichit left the room and descended the stairs, whistling as he made his way to the kitchen.
Yurio dragged his hand down his face and groaned, flopping into Phichit’s vacated spot and lying on his back at the foot of Yuuri’s bed. The older man looked down at his friend and raised an eyebrow, causing the blond to roll his eyes and ask: “What?”
“Nothing,” Yuuri replied. “Thanks for coming.”
Out of all their friends, Yuuri was the one who was the closest to both Yuuri and Viktor, so they had both invited him to their bachelor parties, insisting that they wouldn’t be offended whichever he chose, not that they thought he would care. Eventually, Yurio chose to attend Yuuri’s, stating that he wasn’t in the mood to watch ‘old men’ drink themselves into a stupor, and spending time with some slightly younger people indoors would be ‘marginally more enjoyable’.
Yurio shrugged and breathed out deeply through his nose before saying, “I had a good time.”
Over the past three years, Yuuri had gotten almost used to hearing nice things from Yurio, but he still paused upon hearing the positive remark.
“Are you ready?” The younger man continued, not giving Yuuri the chance to speak.
“I’m not sure,” Yuuri said truthfully. Of course, he wanted to marry Viktor (he’d wanted to since he was twelve, in all honesty) but pre-wedding jitters were normal. He had nothing to worry about.
“You aren’t getting cold feet.” Yurio shot up and his gaze turned from placid to acidic. Yuuri shook his head so quickly that his glasses almost flew off, hastily explaining that under no circumstances was he leaving Viktor. Yurio nodded and ran a hand through his hair, then grumbling as a crash was heard below, followed by a loud, “The pancakes are fine!”
“I guess we should get downstairs,” Yuuri suggested, pushing back his covers and making to get up.
“You can wake up the others!” Yurio said, leaping off the bed and hurtling downstairs.
*
Breakfast was a noisy affair.
Surrounded by his friends and family, Yuuri’s anxieties calmed down drastically as he found himself too busy trying to fight off his hungry loved ones so he himself could actually eat.
“You look tired, Yuuri,” Minako commented, draining a glass of water and scrutinising her friend.
“Not everyone is a seasoned drinker like you, Mina.” Minako glared up at Yuuri’s mother for a moment before turning away, instantly striking up a conversation with Mari.
Phichit was snapping pictures on his phone of the long table where they were all seated, across from the main banquet hall where the wedding reception was to take place. Yu-topia was closed for the few days prior to the wedding, and after the increased clientele after Yuuri’s first silver medal at the Grand Prix, it was odd to see it so empty.
“Who’s doing your hair, Yuuri? Can I do it? Let me do it!” Phichit demanded, rising from his seat in excitement, eyes glinting wildly.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Yuuri agreed instantly. Phichit grinned and pressed his face up against Yuuri’s to snap a picture of the two of them together, then accessing the Instagram app once more to post the image.
Minami was talking rapidly to Leo and Guang-Hong, voice rising in pitch steadily and arms flying out in excitement. Yuuri’s parents were talking quietly with Mari, murmuring about plans for the reception gently. Yurio had his head tilted towards Otabek, talking with the slightest smile on his face.
Yuuri was struggling to focus on anything, but he wasn’t panicking. Just distracted, and happily so.
*
Yuuri showered and brushed his teeth slowly, unwilling to use one of the hot springs so early because he would likely spend too long in there and become pruny. It wouldn’t do on his wedding day.
He stepped into his room donned in a fluffy bathrobe, skin flushed from the heat, and paused. The bed he had left in pristine condition was completely covered, in clothes and two crates of makeup belonging to Phichit and Minako. The woman was absent, and Phichit was standing in front of the vanity, already wearing his suit (minus jacket and tie) and applying a thin line of eyeliner below his eyes.
“Yuuri!” He cheered, quickly finishing and spinning around, looking at his friend appraisingly. “Okay, get dressed, and then sit down right here. I won’t do anything too drastic, don’t worry- just a little bit of blush, some eyeliner…”
Yuuri nodded slightly and shut the door behind him, reaching for the dust cover in which he suit resided and unzipping it.
It was charcoal, a satin with a subtle shine- simple but elegant, which suited him perfectly. Viktor hadn’t let Yuuri see his suit, insisting that it was a surprise, and so Yuuri had acted in kind and hidden his own suit. Not that his was anything interesting, but, knowing Viktor, he would instantly start to vent about how offensively attractive Yuuri looked.
Yuuri had been eating a little more than he would have liked, but luckily it still fit like a glove, sitting satisfyingly on his body. Yuuri flexed his fingers as they pushed through the cuffs of his shirt, rotated his ankles as his legs pushed through the trousers, and he couldn’t help but smile as he got dressed. The further in the day he got, the more real it became.
Katsuki Yuuri was marrying Viktor Nikiforov.
“Aw, look at you!” Phichit cheered, unlocking his phone and snapping a picture of Yuuri quickly.
Yuuri simply held out his hands, shrugging slightly as he moved to take his seat in front of the mirror. He looked at himself as Phichit stood behind him, fiddling with his hair and mumbling to himself.
Yuuri didn’t think he’d changed much since his initial Grand Prix success, just over three years ago. His confidence was the same, his appearance hadn’t altered, he was arguably happier than he had been then however. Finally feeling secure- in his relationships, in his skills, in his new career as a figure skating coach.
Phichit was chattering, mostly to himself, as he ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, applying products and massaging them into the older man’s scalp gently. Yuuri watched half-heartedly as his flyaway locks were tamed and slicked back, tidy and shining black in the artificial light of the the room.
Yuuri’s best friend quickly moved onto doing his makeup, a few quick swipes of a light eyeshadow on his eyelids, thin lines of eyeliner, a smudge of blush on his pale cheeks. It was the sort of thing that Yuuri never really thought he could pull off, which was why he rarely wore makeup, and never as obvious as this, but even he had to admit that he looked nice.
“Only the best for my closest friend on his wedding day!” Phichit said with a grin, and he patted Yuuri on the shoulder softly before pulling away.
“Thank you, Phichit,” Yuuri said sincerely, and Phichit simply waved him off with a tinkling laugh. He glanced down at his watch and let out a small gasp, drumming excitedly on his leg.
“Car’ll be here in just over an hour. You okay?”
Yuuri breathed out through his nose and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He was telling the truth, luckily.
Yurio pushed the door open and peered around. His hair was pulled back into a small bun, a small plait winding around one side of his head, the ends brushing the shoulders of his suit.
“I’m gonna head up to the hotel now- Viktor says I need to perform ‘best man duties’, so…” Yurio trailed off and shrugged, then carried on, in a tight voice, “He also says to tell you that you look great, Yuuri.”
“Wha- did you-” Yuuri turned to Phichit, who raised his hands in surrender, phone still clutched tightly in one fist.
“I only posted the breakfast selfie!” He insisted, and Yurio offered a long-suffering groan in response.
“He says he doesn’t need to see you to know,” the blond explained, voice flat and face pained. Yuuri attempted to battle the grin creeping onto his face, but eventually let his emotions win, sighing softly as he slouched down in his seat.
“Ugh,” Yurio said simply, leaning back so that he was completely out of the room and closing the door behind him.
“Wanna listen to Beyonce while we wait?”
*
The car journey was short, and Yuuri might have preferred to walk, but his family had insisted on renting the expensive vehicle, and Yuuri thought that his legs might be shaking to much to walk anyway.
Phichit had a hand curled around Yuuri’s wrist and was rubbing a small circle with his thumb on his pulse point. It was soothing, but Yuuri couldn’t help but go into his head as they approached his wedding. His wedding to Viktor Nikiforov.
His parents were sitting behind them, talking quietly, and Yuuri could feel his mother’s hand on his shoulder. Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, then exhaling deeply and nodding to himself.
The car stopped moving minutes after they started driving, and Yuuri looked out to see a green area, surrounded by cherry blossoms, white wooden chairs set up either side of a pale blue carpet that stretched along the length of the grass. Everyone was seated, and Yuuri could just make out figures standing at the altar, a white arch, ordained with more cherry blossoms curving high into the bright blue sky.
“Give me your ring,” Phichit ordered gently, stopping Yuuri from exiting the car. The older man did so, pulling the gold band he’d worn so comfortably on his right hand for close to four years off; he placed it gently into the bowl of Phichit’s hand and watched with wide eyes as the fist closed around it.
“I understand if you’re nervous, I’d be too- I am, a little. But Viktor loves you, you love him, and everyone here wants you two to be happy. You don’t need to impress anyone, nobody’s judging you. Focus on yourself.”
The air rushed out of Yuuri’s lungs as Phichit finished, bottom lip trembling slightly and eyes glassing over.
“No, you can’t cry! I did use waterproof makeup just for this, but still! Nothing’s happened yet.”
Yuuri shuffled forward in his seat and threw his arms around his friend’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. There was still an underlying pit of anxiety rolling in his stomach, but it was diminishing drastically, buried underneath the appreciation he felt for the other man.
“Thank you, Phichit,” Yuuri mumbled into his ear, and Phichit huffed a laugh.
“It’s nothing.” He pulled back and brushed Yuuri’s cheek. “Now it’s time for you to get married! I’ll see you at the altar.”
With that, Phichit departed, and Yuuri was met by his parents, standing beside the open door and waiting for their son to exit the vehicle.
And, with a final tight swallow, Yuuri stepped out of the car, into the soft heat of the spring, and linked arms with both of his parents.
Already close to the end of the carpet were Axel, Loop and Lutz, donning fitted, pastel suits and tossing flower petals as they walked. They were led by Yuko, who stepped with the same poise and elegance Yuuri had become so accustomed to from the other woman.
Yuuri, Hiroko and Toshiya walked down the path and onto the grass, the sound of everyone seated rising from their seats filling Yuuri’s ears. He knew that they had all turned to see him, but he only had eyes for the man who was standing at the end of that carpet.
Yuuri’s jaw dropped. Viktor was wearing a deep purple suit, reminiscent of the costume he had worn for his fifth Grand Prix free skate victory, complete with gold accents.
He looked down at his own suit and bit down on his lip. It may have been simple, but it suited him, and he refused to let his anxieties ruin his wedding. He needn’t have worried, because when he looked up to see Viktor’s face, there were tears in his eyes, shining bright as they pooled. Yuuri’s own eyes widened and he tugged his arms away from his parents’, running forward until he stopped in front of his fiance, chest rising and falling rapidly. Viktor looked down at him, a hopeful smile on his face, and swiped under his eyes with his fingers.
The shorter man caught Viktor’s wrist and returned the smile, causing Viktor to grin and reach up to stroke Yuuri’s cheek gently.
“You look beautiful,” Viktor murmured, and Yuuri nodded slightly.
“Thank Phichit,” he returned.
Viktor shook his head. “You always do.”
Yuuri knew he was blushing, but he brushed it off and said, “You look pretty good himself.”
The grey-haired man jumped up cheerily. “You like it? I wasn’t sure- I thought it might be a bit too ostentatious-”
“It suits you.” Yuuri assured the other man.
Viktor fixed Yuuri with a curious look, as though trying to determine whether or not to be offended before he tilted his head to the side with a soft smile, strands of hair falling across his forehead.
“If we’re ready?” The officiant asked, arranging pages on his lecturn and blinking at the two men in front of him. Viktor locked eyes with Yuuri once more and nodded encouragingly. Yuuri nodded back.
Yurio was standing directly behind Viktor, slouching slightly with his hands in his pocket, but his eyes were wide, darting between his two friends rapidly. Yuuri threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see Phichit standing with a happy grin on his face, phone raised to take a quick picture offering Yuuri a thumbs up.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” the officiant began, grasping the attention of all the guests, plus both grooms, who watched him intently. “It is with great honour that I stand before you all to join Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov together in marriage. You may be seated.”
The guests fell together as one into their seats, leaving only the grooms and their best men standing.
Yuuri found himself drifting as the officiant drawled through the readings, and honourings. There was Viktor directly in front of him, and his fingers were aching to reach out and hold the other man, wishing for any physical contact with him. Viktor didn’t seem to be faring any better, completely focussed on watching Yuuri with a tender, content look on his face. He was glad to finally not blush every time he was under Viktor’s gaze, and simply met the other’s eyes in turn.
“Most of us know the story of how Yuuri and Viktor fell in love; a simple video took the world by storm, and Viktor decided to take a chance, travelling to meet and train Yuuri, even putting his own career on hold. Their relationship has developed and grown both in the public eye, and intimately, and finally the two of them will be united in the most devoted way a couple can. Viktor, your vows.”
Viktor nodded and reached a hand out to Yurio, who looked slightly put out, but slipped a folded piece of paper between Viktor’s fingers, which closed around it and brought it forward. He unfolded his sheet and, looking at Yuuri, mouthed, “I love you.”
“Yuuri, I loved you since you drunkenly asked me to be your coach, I think. Back then, I convinced myself I was just flattered; then, and when I saw you almost perfect my routine. So I came to you, and you seduced me like the beautiful pork cutlet bowl you are.
“I didn’t realise how much I needed you, at first. You were an escape- from my responsibilities, a chance for me to prove myself as something more than simply: Viktor Nikiforov, five time Grand Prix champion. As time went on, you became more and more to me, and my love for you grew without me knowing, until the point where I thought I would lose you, and then it hit me that I was in love with you, and I had been for a very long time. I never thought I would be as happy as I can be with you, and I’m honoured that you would agree to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“Viktor, you changed my life. The person I was before was… Different. I don’t think I even knew what I had the potential to do, but then you came, you dropped everything when you didn’t even know me and helped to truly achieve. Your continued support, and belief in me has meant the world to me.
“I’ve admired you since I was a child, and as soon as I met you I knew I was right to. You’re the best person I know, and my love and adoration for you grows everyday. I know there isn’t anybody I could even imagine spending the rest of my life with. I’m so grateful to have you by my side, and I only hope I can provide the comfort to you that you do for me.”
“Of course,” Viktor murmured, and his voice was shaking, tears once more shining in his eyes. Yuuri knew he must look the same, sniffing gently as Makkachin snuffled beneath them, their rings resting on the velvet pillow tied to his back.
“Wedding rings are a symbol of the love shared between these two men- with no beginning and no end.
“Viktor, pick up Yuuri’s ring, and take his left hand in yours.”
Viktor did just this, holding Yuuri’s hand gently and looking down at the gold ring they had purchased four years ago.
“Now repeat after me: ‘This ring symbolises my heart, which I give to you entirely. I promise to be faithful, to love you through the best and worst, to care for and support you. I give you my unconditional solace and my unwavering trust; when you look at this ring, remember that I love you always.’”
Viktor slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of Yuuri’s left hand, resting his own fingers on top of it for a few moments before pulling away.
Yuuri repeated the process, choking on his words a few times, but uttering the statement that rang so true.
“When I look upon these two men, I see a representation of what love truly is- pure, unconditional, and between two deserving people. And it is with great delight that I now pronounce you married.
“Please, kiss your husband.”
Viktor wasted no time pulling Yuuri close to him and smiling widely, lips centimetres away from Yuuri’s.
Yuuri returned the grin, and slipped a hand around Viktor’s neck, tugging him closer to press their lips together. He could hear clapping, and perhaps groaning from Yurio, but he ignored in favour of relishing in the feeling of his husband close to him.
“All right, children,” Phichit called over the sounds of cheers, and reluctantly the two men pulled away. The soft look in Viktor’s eyes made Yuuri’s heart stutter, and he could feel his slender fingers caressing the gold band on Yuuri’s left hand.
“Ready to go?” Yuuri asked, and Viktor laughed happily. They looked out to their guests, who had risen from their seats, still clapping. There were tears in many people’s eyes, and JJ had fought his way to the front and was throwing rice out of his pocket into the air. Viktor drew his eyes away from the scene to look directly at Yuuri again, completely ignoring everything around them.
“Lead the way.”