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Victor didn’t understand it at first but Yuuri has such a deep fascination with every part of his body—it’s not as dirty as it sounds either. Victor is aware that he’s an attractive man; too aware, some may even say. He knows his effect on people, both men and women alike. He knows he’s charismatic, his smile practiced to perfection so he can look his best no matter which angle the camera is on him, and most of all, no matter how old he gets, Victor never lets his body get out of shape.
And that’s the exact problem: Yuuri doesn’t bother with any of those.
It starts with the whorl of his hair, Yuuri poking at his head with a childlike curiosity as Victor is bending down to brush ice shavings off the blade of his skates. Victor freezes the minute he feels the gentle pressure at the center of his scalp, the words dying down in his throat. Not long after, Yuuri’s embarrassed apology is ringing in his ears.
“Ah, s-sorry!” Yuuri says hastily, waving his hands in front of him. He sounds taken aback by what took place, too. “I couldn’t help it!”
Despite his high self-esteem, Victor pats the area Yuuri just poked consciously. To think that just minutes ago, Victor has been talking about not being as young as he used to be. “Is it getting that thin?” He hears himself asking, half-joking, half-dreadful. It will be a horrifying shame if the figure skating community’s most eligible bachelor has an actual early balding problem.
“No, no, no!” Yuuri is flustered above him, and slightly panicking. “Everything’s okay!” He even adds in his accented English.
Victor slides to lie down on the ice anyway, playing it up in the most dramatic way possible. “I’m hurt,” he groans out sullenly, “I can’t recover from this.” The sight of Yuuri frantically convincing him to get up, I didn’t mean it that way, Victor, come on, I’m sorryyyyy, is just too adorable to pass up on.
The next is his eyelashes, right after they kiss for the first time. They’re in Chugoku, Japan, where Yuuri has won his first competition and Yuuri’s face of bliss and pride was simply too much to take—Victor couldn’t help but jump him as soon as they got back to their hotel room.
Victor pulls away first, his mouth swollen pink and chuckling happily, half-lidded blue eyes staring where Yuuri is less than inches away from him. There’s an all-too familiar blush dusting Yuuri’s face but he’s smiling, too, looking slightly disoriented and giddy all at once.
“You’re wonderful,” Victor whispers, leaning in for another kiss. Yuuri’s grin tastes sweet against his lips. “And so amazing, moyo solnishko. That quad at the ending was absolutely brilliant.”
Breaking away, Yuuri cups his face with a smile, studying him for a quick second, and sighs, “You have ridiculous eyelashes.”
Victor blinks stupidly. Well, that’s…not what he was expecting.
“They’re so pretty,” Yuuri murmurs, brushing his thumb gently by the corner of Victor’s eye, “You’re so ridiculously pretty, what the hell.”
Victor laughs despite his confusion. He cups Yuuri’s face as well, mirroring the younger man, and squishes his soft cheeks until Yuuri is making expressions of protest. “Don’t be envious,” Victor teases, letting go of Yuuri and pressing another kiss on his mouth, “you’re plenty beautiful yourself, Yuuri.”
As they officially get together, Yuuri’s interest on certain parts of Victor’s body only makes itself more and more apparent. He marvels at how long and graceful Victor’s fingers are, spending minutes with his palms pressed up against Victor’s as Yuuri compares them side by side with such amazement, Victor’s heart aches at the endearing display of his boyfriend.
Yuuri runs a hand through Victor’s hair every time Victor uses his lap as a pillow, muttering sweet nonsense under his breath about how soft Victor’s hair is. He takes note of the arch of Victor’s eyebrows, fingers sweeping lovingly over his forehead, and brushes over the almost unnoticeable birthmark by the jut of Victor’s collarbone, his touch warm no matter where it lands on Victor’s skin.
During one of their practices on the rink, Yuuri kisses the tip of Victor’s nose on an off-guard moment while Victor is giving notes. Victor pauses, startled, and Yuuri only grins. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Yuuri says with only a light flush on his face betraying his embarrassment, “your nose is adorable.”
It’s the first time ever that Victor is flustered, and he turns away in denial when Yuuri points out the growing blush on his cheeks. (Later in the locker room, Victor gets his revenge as he pushes Yuuri against the lockers and kisses him so deeply, Yuuri is weak-kneed, red-faced, and stammering gibberish by the end of it.)
One night, Yuuri finds an old scar near his ankle, and as he traces it with wonder, Victor explains how he got it from a skating accident years ago.
“Did it hurt?” Yuuri asks with a hint of concern.
Victor smiles. “Not really,” He hums in answer, “It bled enough that it worried the people around me but it’s actually quite shallow. I just wish it hadn’t left such a visible scar.”
“I like it,” Yuuri offers quietly, smiling almost shyly up at Victor. In the dim lamp light, Yuuri looks breathtakingly angelic. Victor swallows to push back the heart that leapt in his throat and to ease the tightness in his chest. “It shows how dedicated you are in what we do. I think it’s beautiful.”
Through it all, Victor feels embarrassingly treasured.
Yuuri is still hesitant to initiate contact and still gets horribly flustered whenever Victor shows affection in public, quick to run from Victor’s touches and shove Victor away whenever the older man tries to do something as simple as a hug but like this, with just the two of them sitting in comfortable silence in Victor’s bed, Yuuri’s hands roam freely and unconsciously, his brown eyes bright and enchanted, as if Victor is the most interesting person there is.
It doesn’t help that Yuuri touches him with such a pure kind of adoration, his hands tender and affectionate as they brush across the expanse of Victor’s body, without the intention of making it something else, something heavier and sexual. Victor’s not used to it, to the concept of being touched simply for the sake of being touched.
To the concept of being adored just for existing.
Victor tries it, nonetheless, his fingers careful as they reach for Yuuri, and gently caress the side of his face. Yuuri gives a silent sigh and presses closer into the touch. There’s a contented smile playing on Yuuri’s lips, and Victor can feel his heart swelling with affection.
“You’re wonderful, Yuuri,” Victor breathes out in a quiet confession, leaning in to give Yuuri a chaste kiss on the mouth. “I’ve never met anyone quite as fascinating as you are.”
“You’re so cheesy,” Yuuri mumbles, and Victor laughs at the irony of his statement. Trust Yuuri to be completely oblivious of his actions. “But you fascinate me, too, Victor.”
Victor hums, teasing. “I know I do, solnishko.”