emberossing | Bear the Weight of Well-Tailored Clothes (for davaidavai)

Bear the Weight of Well-Tailored Clothes (for davaidavai)

The idea takes a while to come to fruition.

Life moves on in the meantime. The exploration of this thing that's happening between them happens, as most things do, slowly. It's not full-force training season yet, but they're ramping up, getting back in shape, spending time at the rink just working on the basics. Life isn't without it's quiet moments, but it's getting more hectic, and Yuuri has slowly expanded the list of Places in the Apartment That Feel Like Home from the bedroom to include the master bath, and the kitchen, at least, even if he often feels like something of an interloper into the space that he poured over in a magazine in the rest of the house. But it's his toothbrush in the bathroom and his favorite mug in the sink and his side of the bed, and it's good. It's better than good.

So even though he was originally thinking about it as some kind of reward for something in particular, he finds it's a more general thank you, for helping him to settle, on one of their last free days before the real training starts. Viktor's been talking about going clothes shopping for a week now, but hasn't done it yet, so when he suggests that maybe they should go, Yuuri shrugs and agrees to go with him.

Simple. Except that, with the notable exception of Barcelona, Yuuri has never said yes to going shopping for Viktor, except for grocery shopping.

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Viktor's humming. Happy enough they're here all. He knows shopping isn't his fiance's favorite activity. It's just hard to reconcile, to not just dress him in all the best things. Yuuri deserves that. But he turns down the offers, every time. It isn't something Viktor can force. They share so many other interests - skating, dogs, spandex. Maybe this is just a thing they won't.

For now Viktor will settle for the company. Seeing Yuuri's smile as he chatters on about fit, new fabrics. Since he's coaching and going back into competitions, Viktor definitely needs a new suit, right? Maybe two.

"Ah, here!" he exclaims. "Burberry's got a nice line this season!"

Yuuri's always a little uncomfortable with money, is really what it is. He's never paid attention to fashion much, but he doesn't have a problem with listening to Viktor, trying to learn more about something he's interested in. But while his parents aren't poor by a long stretch, they're frugal and all of their extra money goes to skating for him. He's definitely lived most of his life in a state of wondering if one of his two pairs of shoes would survive the semester until he would be able to more easily buy a new pair. The idea of spending more than $20 on a shirt seems outright ridiculous. Any one trenchcoat in this entire store would pay for replacing his entire wardrobe, if he doesn't count his practice gear. It would probably do it twice over.

That's what makes him uncomfortable. And he's wearing that less-than-$20 shirt walking into the store, which doesn't help. But Viktor is so enthusiastic just to have him there and is talking about the kinds of things he likes and will Yuuri help and Yuuri's learned about 40 new vocabulary words in the last five minutes and understands none of them, but he can at least nod gamely along and get led into the store.

And try not to hyperventilate.

Still, trailing along after Viktor, who definitely looks like he belongs here (maybe even belongs somewhere better than here) isn't as bad as he was afraid of. The associates aren't stupid. They know who's here for this store and who's the tag-along, but if Viktor wants to bring his pauper friend along for the ride, it's pretty clear they know better than to treat him poorly, at least.

The associates are also not pushy. Keeping a distance until their eyes are caught. They don't need to hover. Either someone has the money and interest... or they don't.

Viktor's already sorting through scarves. It does not seem like he could possibly need any more, but the patterns are irresistible. Beaming, he holds one up for Yuuri's inspection.

"What do you think of this one? Or - oh!"

He finds a cashmere in deep blue. Draping it around Yuuri's neck, trying out a few different knots. Playing, because he can, because he's not completely unaware of the discomfort. Being ridiculous is usually good for a smile. Even a quick one. (Though it does look stunning... ah well.)

"Definitely your color!"

He flushes as Viktor wraps it around him, forces himself to not think about how expensive it is, tries as hard as he can to think about it as something he could have, if he wanted it, to consider it as a real thing. He's not great at it, but he keeps from batting Viktor's hands away or protesting, even if he knows Viktor can definitely still see the tension in him.

He holds still for him, though, while he goes through all the styling and then raises a tentative hand to feel the material. It's so soft that his eyes go a little sparkly for a moment, without his knowledge. Yuuri wouldn't know how to pose out in public in a place he's uncomfortable in if his life literally depended on it, but Viktor still gets something much better than a smile out of him when he raises his eyes to Viktor's, still flushed and actively touching the scarf rather than hiding under something or running away,

"Do... do you really think so?" it's more dubious than he wanted, maybe, but it's still permissive, leaving the conversation open instead of protesting out of it.

Money has never been an issue for Viktor, even before he was a superstar. It's there to be used. Like any resource. And he really can't think of a better way to spend it then on Yuuri!

Still, he is learning not to push this area. Not hard, anyway. But Viktor wouldn't be Viktor if he didn't try. Especially when Yuuri's fingers drift to the scarf. Giving in to the siren call of cashmere.

"I do!"

He beams, taking this as an excuse to do a little more fussing. Pressing his hands warm against Yuuri's shoulders

"You should see how it brings out your eyes."

Maybe it can be a Christmas present. Maybe. It can't hurt to indulge a few more seconds, right?

It is really soft. Nicer than anything he's ever owned.

"Oh?" he says and looks around, clear that he's looking for a mirror. He's flushed at the compliment and still seems stilted about being in the store, a bit, but he's determined that he's going to do this for Viktor. And from Viktor's end, it's just amazing that he's going along with any of it, completely unlike him.

When they find one, he blinks in surprise. It does bring out his eyes. The next moment is totally unplanned, just the words that come to his mind when he sees the rest of himself in the mirror,

"It looks a little out of place, though, doesn't it? On me." He's still wearing all of the other things he's normally wearing, after all. He realizes too late what an invitation that sounds like, unintentional, but then he forces himself not to take it back.

"No, it's perfect!"

The scarf definitely belongs on Yuuri. This is a fact. As irrefutable as ice is cold and Makkachin cute. Viktor holds his hand in front of Yuuri's view. So just his head and most of the blue are visible. Blocking the rest of the... "ensemble."

"It's the rest of your clothes that don't match it!"

There is a small flickering of what can only be hope in Viktor's eyes. Growing stronger with each moment.

If Yuuri was actually teasing, he could never do this. But this skirts the line between play acting and the truth. He really is feeling all the things he's feeling, the shyness, the not knowing how to approach this with Viktor, like he's out of place. The only secret is that Viktor doesn't know he's determined to not let any of that matter.

So he flushes and looks away, embarrassed, but manages to get out,

"Yeah. That's what I just said. I'm not..." no wait, that's too much of a refusal, so he forces out, "Viktor, none of my clothes match it."

Viktor's eyebrows rise. He feels that tremor. The internal shift to something. A different conversation then the ones they've had before. And he may not know why, but he's feeling that little flare start to grow larger.

There's a nudge to Yuuri's shoulder. Trying to get him to look back at Viktor, the optimism blooming on his face.

"There are other things here that do..."

Yuuri looks up at him and wow Viktor's expression is... better than he could have hoped for, nearly gives him vertigo. Yuuri's still uncertain, uncomfortable, but Viktor is going to be able to read the answer right off his face before he speaks, a softening of the tension there, the way his eyes shine a little.

He ducks his head a moment later, flushing, fiddling with the scarf, but he nods,

"O-okay. Show me?"

Oh God.

Someday Viktor is going to drown in those eyes and it is going to be absolutely worth it even if Yuuri wears sweats for the rest of his life and - wait.

What.

Viktor blinks. Trying to process. There is a mental squealing of brakes, as he turns from trying to make a point to realizing the point has been accepted.

"Wait right there!"

He bolts away. Returning in seconds with a pale sweater and dark pants. He hasn't gone right for the suits - is still unsure if this is a Thing That's Happening or some temporary fluke in the universe. If it's the latter, he doesn't want to tear it apart. Yet.

Let him see Yuuri in more cashmere first and he will die a happy man...

Yuuri looks dubiously at the choices, but he doesn't resist Viktor either handing them to him, or being pulled over to the dressing rooms (though he does still have to be pulled a little bit) so that's also progress.

His hands clench on Viktor's arm at an approaching sales person who is now definitely seeing two people being interested in buying things. Yuuri shakes his head just a little, suddenly nervous,

"No. Just you... just... I don't want..." it's all he can get out over the sudden pressure of panic, soft enough that hopefully the poor sales associate can't hear him. Even this, though, it's something of a weird victory-- he's actually asking Viktor for help. He's trusting Viktor can make it happen, somehow, keep the rest of the world away from him while he does something that's already hard enough.

He may as well also have screamed to the rooftops that he really is actually letting Viktor dress him, too, considering that he's willing to not run away at the first sign of difficulty.

Viktor beams at the associate. Bright enough to dazzle. She stumbles to a halt. Stunned. Unblinking.

"We'll call if we need help!"

Before the woman can recover, Viktor swings them both into one of the private dressing rooms. With a door that locks. Another perk of this store. The space is huge, accented in dark wood and a full length mirror. There's a smaller partition, for actually changing in.

"There!"

He presses a long kiss to Yuuri's cheek. Viktor hasn't seen him struggle like this in a long time. It's not something he even has to do... and Yuuri's fighting for it anyway. It's - Viktor doesn't quite have the words, but his tone now is warm and appreciative.

"Just us, zolotse."

Yuuri turns into the kiss on his cheek immediately and the kiss is surprisingly heated. It's a lot like that last kiss in Japan, open and grateful, while Yuuri grounds himself a little. That it's a reward for fixing the issue so quickly is immaterial.

"Th-thanks," he flushes, pulling back and taking the clothes, maybe shuttering off a little bit, but if he doesn't they're just going to make out in the dressing room. A moment later, he moves to the partitioned area to change. He's obviously not concerned about being naked around Viktor-- he's seen the man naked even before they were sleeping together and vice versa-- but he does kind of want there to be a reveal of sorts.

He can't get the scarf back around his neck with the same flair, but he's stepping out a moment later in the pants and the sweater and his eyes are doing the thing again,

"It's... so soft..." look, he's never had nice clothes before and when he steals Viktor's it tends to be t-shirts and button ups. He has no defense against being wrapped up in something like this.

Also he's probably adorable in what's likely close to a thousand dollars worth of clothing and his sock feet, looking nervous.

And what a reveal. Viktor might actually be clutching his heart. Just a little. He is simply not prepared of the twin impact of Yuuri looking this cute and like he maybe - maybe - has found something to enjoy about it.

"Wow," he breathes. And of course has to step in, re-arrange the scarf, before turning Yuuri to face the mirror. Running his hands up the sweater, reveling in the texture.

"See? Just clothes! The person is the same!"

(Shoes. Shoes are definitely getting added to the list.)

He has to work not to completely melt under Viktor running his hands all over him, pressing the fabric to his skin. There's a moment of vertigo there, even, where he has to struggle to keep his feet, but it passes and he's blinking in the mirror at himself and... wow. Yeah.

The pants aren't what he would have picked, but the sweater is amazing and with the scarf he suddenly looks... different. It's that same feeling he got when Viktor had styled his hair in the mirror before they went dancing, where for a brief moment, he looks like someone who could be on the cover of a magazine.

"It's..." he wants to refuse anyway, to say that he doesn't deserve it or that he can't live up to the man he's looking at in the mirror, that this isn't him. Except he's Viktor Nikiforov's fiance and so even that kind of rings false. And besides, he'd already told himself he was going to let Viktor spoil him a little today, if he was so inclined. So he takes a deep breath and manages,

"I... I don't really know if I like the pants," from anyone else, that would probably seem like something critical, but he knows Viktor will hear what he isn't saying. He's stopped protesting the shirt or the scarf entirely.

Viktor practically sparkles at that. He is always inclined to indulge, but learning how to spoil Yuuri is the Olympic level. You have to be well-trained. To listen for the unspoken as well as what is said.

Yuuri is actually letting him pick out clothes.

This is not a chance to be wasted!

"Ah, you're right," he agrees. Ducking out. There's a few moments of murmuring with someone, then Viktor's back. "Okay! They won't come in, they're just going to get a couple of things... You definitely need something that fits better in the hips."

This, of course, must be demonstrated. By settling his hands over said hips, tugging the fabric down a little. Just to give a visual.

"Maybe um... maybe jeans but nicer ones?" he suggests, not even really knowing if they have that, definitely not knowing that if they do, they're probably called denim and not jeans. But Viktor's his translator anyway. "I'm not used to looking this nice," he flushes slightly saying it. But look at him, making suggestions and everything!

Viktor's all sparkly and it makes him feel a little weak in the knees, which isn't helped by him gripping his hips like that. He leans up for a kiss, sweet and shy, until they're interrupted by the associate bringing things back. Amazingly, Yuuri doesn't jump when she knocks, just trusts Viktor to handle the whole thing, that even if she comes in, he can keep her from setting him off.

"I could get used to it," Viktor proclaims. Nuzzling into Yuuri's temple, admiring the glimpse of them he catches in the mirror. True, the pants aren't perfect. Even so, they're still doing an admirable job of showing off Yuuri's ass.

The knock comes just in time.

For now Viktor keeps the assistant on the other side, only letting the clothes enter. This is partly for Yuuri's sake... and because Viktor wants to keep this to himself for a few more minutes.

"Let's see - here, try the dark wash next!"

This is probably gibberish to Yuuri. But maybe has something to do with the pants Viktor's holding out now?

Yuuri trades out the pants for the jeans quickly, but then pauses a moment, about to step back out and show Viktor, but then catches himself in the smaller mirror in the partitioned area and freezes.

"...Oh."

The associate has done her job fantastically. The pants fit perfectly, cling just enough to show off his ass and thighs to a degree that makes him blush, but isn't actually unfit for public-- he's just used to having baggy, worn out jeans and these mold more to his body. With the sweater and the scarf still arranged around his neck he's...

Look, Yuuri is aware, objectively, that he looks good when he skates. He's seen the posters around Hasetsu and they're embarrassing, but he looks good in them. But they're photoshopped and he's in a costume and it's all performance anyway. And there was him borrowing Viktor's clothes and going out dancing and he'd looked good then, too. This is... this is different. Looking at himself in the mirror now he looks...

There was a magazine spread where Viktor and some other top sports celebrities had done a shoot for some fashion company. Maybe it was even this one, he doesn't remember. But Viktor's had been a picture of him in more casual wear and he'd been so effortlessly attractive. And Yuuri remembers looking at that and thinking how if he wore the sexiest thing he could think of, he still wouldn't look half as good as how comfortable and real Viktor looked in that moment, and still how polished. And those same eyes are suddenly staring back at him from behind his own glasses and he feels another moment of sharp vertigo.

Hopefully Viktor's going to come in at the sudden stop of movement and the exclamation because Yuuri's not sure if he can move all of a sudden.

Viktor pops his head around the corner.

"Yuuri? Are you..."

He trails off. Momentarily as stunned as Yuuri. Not from the clothes, but Yuuri's face. He looks like he's been hit by a truck. Viktor hurries forward. Steadying him. Maybe it's been too much after all? Maybe they should have started with khakis instead?! Is this shock??!

"...Yuuri?!"

Viktor winding an arm around him seems to at least partially snap him out of it-- he jumps a little bit, but he doesn't look quite as lost. His eyes meet Viktor's in the mirror and he leans back into him a little bit, clearly seeking comfort, even though it's probably not entirely clear why until he breathes out,

"I look like you," he has no idea if that's coherent, if Viktor's going to understand what he's saying or not. Sometimes, they don't even need verbal sentences to finish each other's but sometimes the gulf feels too wide to ever cross, and he's never sure which it's going to be. The tone is clearly wonder, however.

He doesn't look like Viktor, obviously, but in these clothes, like this, he can see himself like the idea of Viktor. He looks like he belongs in a magazine. He does not know what to do with seeing himself looking like he belongs in a magazine.

"Oh! How do you mean? Stunning? Sexy? Like your fiance is the luckiest man on Earth and could just eat you up?"

Viktor is being both silly and serious, nuzzling another kiss against Yuuri's temple. Then turns him so they can both study the mirror again. He sees what Yuuri means. Standing together like this, there's a sense of... coordination, something they usually have when they're moving. Skating, or dancing.

Seeing it standing still is a bit dizzying. Even for Viktor.

"Clothes are clothes. They can say as much as you want, or as little."

The kiss this time is longer. Reassuring.

"And I love what they're saying here..."

"That's usually what I think of you, yes," he can't always manage sexy, but he can always manage sweet and he looks up at Viktor for a moment instead of in the mirror, before Viktor's turning his gaze back. He seems both settled by the reassurance and unsettled, and Viktor knows him well enough to watch his expression change in the mirror to the one he wears when he's about to do something really difficult for him.

Deep breaths, Yuuri. Doing this was not part of the plan, but it's important and you can change the plan. It's better than the plan, if you can just not fuck it up and chicken out.

"Can... Can I... Will you..." neither thing seems right, and he has to remind himself air is a thing halfway through, the blush creeping up his cheeks and a little tremble starting up. He closes his eyes, takes another breath, and then forces a little bit of steel in his spine, undetectable except that Viktor has his arms around him and knows his body better than most people know another's, even lovers. He wouldn't be able to meet his eyes normally, but he manages to do it in the mirror,

"I want it."

"It's yours."

The response is automatic. There couldn't be any other. It's amazing how such a short sentence can contain so much. How one person could contain so much.

Viktor squeezes Yuuri tighter. Absorbing the moment. Eyes glittering in wonder in their reflection. It's finally sinking in what all this is for. Or rather, who. That this isn't just a whim, it's a gift. It probably wouldn't look that way from the outside, but who cares?

It's for them. It's what works for them.

There's no mischief at all in the next question. Just hope.

"...What about a suit? Could you maybe want one of them too?"

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Poor Yuuri I KNOW THIS FEELING

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