Victuuri | complete

Marriage !

Word Count: 777

The more we think about it together, the more we decide against a public ceremony. Victor explains that his parents are toxically racist and homophobic. His sympathetic older sister won't take any side for or against the parents, leaving Victor to his own for the past few years. He would rather approach his parents with a set-in-stone legal document, first, before letting them disown him entirely, only to turn around and make a huge celebration out of it with everyone else later.

And it's that simple. The next day, we come home with a marriage certificate and legally hyphenated last names (Katsuki-Nikiforov, of course.) We spend the rest of the morning in a local coffee shop, talking over our decision and how to move forward.

"We ought to settle in Japan. And I'll retire, then," Victor volunteers cheerfully, "to be the stay-at-home dad, when the time comes."

"Imagine the world's surprise," I smirk.

"My world is just a little smaller, now," Victor blushes, spinning the ring on his finger once.

I nod and offer a small smile. Victor chuckles and reaches out to take one of my hands. I allow it for a moment, and then lower my cup of coffee with my other hand, searching his eyes. Surprise tingles at every nerve ending when I see unadulterated joy in those sparkling blue eyes. It's as if the most heavy and painful part of his life has been erased and replaced, and I couldn't be happier to be that replacement for him.

"I'm gonna cry, stoppit," I laugh, pulling my hand away to rub at my eyes.

"What?" Victor demands coyly. "Aren't I allowed to caress my own husband?"

"Vitya," I groan. "I'm gonna melt right into my macchiato or something," I lift the cup again.

"Mm," Victor nods and leans away. "Fine, fine. I'll just never touch you— wait— not even look at you again," he teases, turning his body outward from the table.

"Nmm— wait!" I feign panic. "I take it back," I plead, unable to resist small fits of laughter. "Please, Victor, I love your eyes."

He gives me a sly sidelong glance.

"Oh?"

I bite my lip to staunch a sexual reply. He must see the physical pain on my face. Or perhaps the biting of my lip is signal enough, in and of itself.

"We should take this conversation somewhere more private," the shameless desire in his voice provides all the heat I need to indeed melt right into my macchiato.

"Okay," I agree hastily.

*****

Maybe it's the joy of finally being married, or maybe it's the lustful tension we've felt ever since signing our relationship into legal recognition. But as far as Victor and I are concerned, skipping practice for a day, to instead consecrate our marriage in the middle of the afternoon, seems like a perfectly fine idea. We can hardly wait to close the door to our room, lips locked and bodies humping the moment the door swings shut. The sound of the lock clicking seems to give my erect want clearance to pitch a tight tent in the material of my pants. Oh God, I can already feel ecstasy rising.

Victor groans, his tongue sliding into my mouth as he helps me out of my pants. I find myself intermittently panting between lapses in the kiss while our hands roam and tug away clothing. Time slows down, it seems, and as if in slow motion, I am pulling Victor into bed with me.

We are completely and utterly exposed, but I, in no way, feel vulnerable or cold. Indeed, I could not physically stand to feel any hotter than I do now, and I don't think I feel safer anywhere other than within reach of Victor's arms. Before I'm even aware of the situation, Victor is positioned before me, ready to be entered. He faces me, knees pulled up, body glistening with anticipatory sweat, and chest rising and falling erratically.

The last article to be removed is my pair of glasses. Victor smoothes back my hair as I climb over him, already biting my lip and groaning. I almost don't know where to start— every part of him looks so tempting. I could repeat any of what we've already tried, but I like to keep Victor guessing. So I lean over him and grant him another long engrossing kiss but pull away just as his hands start to pull me into him.

He watches me dismount him entirely and move away from the bed in amused bewilderment. He knows I have something up my sleeve, the question is only what I plan to do. I think he'll catch on when I return from the bathroom with a Trojan wrapper glinting between my fingers.