Title: Lazy Winter Day
Author: Lainx
Rating: /
Warnings: /
Summary:

A look
at one of the mornings in the Katsuki-Nikiforov household, set nine years after
their first (unofficial) meeting at Sochi. 

Link to AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9664424

Yuuri has been a father for two years now.

Father. The word still sounded foreign in his
mouth, like a constant surprise. “Father. I am a father. A papa.”

Even more surprising were the words “Victor is
a dad, too” which usually followed his wonder.

They had decided on adopting as soon as they
got married, two years after meeting each other. They knew the processes would
be long, and counted on that time to prepare themselves. In the end, they
launched them after Yuuri’s retirement at 26, and only received the precious
confirmation three years later.

They had been blessed with a little baby –
given their ages, they originally aimed for an older child. But Lyosha had
arrived, grumpy and already filled with energy and spite

There are nights Yuuri just can’t sleep – or go
back to sleep after waking up. Before, when he has been living alone or with no
immediate husband in the bed, he would have started a late-session of gaming,
or maybe even have got up to clean a bit around, starting his day in advance. Now,
his possibilities ranged from staying calmly cuddled with Victor in the bed, day-dreaming
until dawn, to leaving their bedroom to lounge in the living-room with a book
or his music player. He would check on his son, too – he loved watching this
tiny, tiny person snore and grumble like a grown man, all while looking so
adorable it would sometimes bring the strongest urge to pick him up and cover
him in kisses. He refrained, though. The only thing worse than a hungry baby,
he learnt pretty quickly, was a sleepy and disgruntled one.  

Tonight, at 6am, when it becomes clear he will
not get any more sleep however hard he tried, he leaves his bed with
precaution, and heads for the couch. His mom had just sent them her latest
creation – a modern craft book, one of the newest stuff that came out. As he
absentmindedly pets the cover, his dog, a Labrador, comes sniffing at his feet,
before jumping to settle next to him on the couch. Victor’s dog, another poodle
he had finally got around to adopt, years after Makkachin last sleep, raises
his head just enough to notice the human, before curling back on his dog bed,
sighing.

Yuuri shakes his head, slightly smiling. The
dogs are technically theirs, but they
did choose their masters, alright.

He plugs his headphones in the back of the heavy
book, before softly opening it. “Welcome to our family, Aleksey!” is written
with big, bright letters, while recordings of Yuuri and Victor’s friends and
family wishing welcome to the little boy resound in multiple languages in his
ears.

With a brush of his index, various pictures
appear. On most of them, a fair-haired baby is either crying or beaming at the
adult holding him. He scans the faces of his relatives; his mom and Victor’s reeling
at Victor holding his son and obviously cooing at him. His father comfortably offering
his arms to a snoozing baby while his sister stroked his soft cheek, a tender
smile on her mouth. His best friend, Phichit, dark circles under the eyes from
his late trip to Japan in the middle of skating season, half-hidden under the
gigantic hamster plush he got for Lyosha. Whenever pictures were taken, the
onsen inn appeared in the background, colorful and homey.

Soon after, the setting changes to Victor and
his house in Russia, and the pictures fade, revealing a video.

“And here is Kin-kin!”
Victor voices says before the video focuses.

 

His husband appears,
sitting on the floor with their baby on his lap. The comparatively huge black Labrador
is shaking her tail extremely fast, her mouth opened. The baby is very still,
his eyes huge.

 

“Easy, Kin!” Yuuri
hears his own voice orders firmly.

 

The dog sits, trying
to appear as non-threatening as possible, while her tail keeps hitting the
floor behind her, betraying her suppressed excitation. Very softly, all the
while glancing at Yuuri, she leans toward Lyosha who is still in awe. When she
is close enough, she cocks her head, puzzled as to why this human looks so small
when her papa and her honorary papa are way bigger. Suddenly, Lyosha extends
his plump arms, touching the warm fur. He then starts to “oooh-s” at the
softness of the creature before him, pointing her insistently to his dad before
resuming the careful pats. His smile is eating half of his face.

Yuuri can’t help but laugh quietly at the scene
– and he can hear his past self laughing too while the camera shuffles closer.
Lyosha was just so cute.

A warm hand falls on his head, stroking his
hair, before sliding to his neck. Yuuri shifts until he is able to stare at his
husband, whose hair is, admittedly, a mess.

“Can’t sleep anymore?” Victor asks while
yawning, leaning for a kiss.

The faint taste of the strawberry syrup water
Victor keeps next to his bed to drink out during the night lingers in his
mouth, and Yuuri instantly craves for more. He twists his body to face him, and
Victor slides his fingers in his dark hair, getting a better angle to kiss him.
The Russian man lets out a definitely pleasured sound, always happy to see his
husband so responsive, feeling his arms sneak behind his back as Yuuri brings
their bodies closer. Their breaths start to come quicker as their bellies fill
with the familiar tightness of desire.

“Let’s…let’s…” Yuuri pants, palming his lover’s
ass and squeezing softly. “Vityaa…” he moans, feeling the man mouthing at his
earlobe, which almost pushes him into frenzy.

“PaaaaaaPAAAAAAAAAA!? PAPA, PAPA, PAPAAA!! PaaPAAA!?”

They separate with a huff, instinctively
turning their heads toward the corridor, from which the calls emanate.

“Haha, I guess Lyosha decided to start early as
well” Victor says, amused.

Since the calls are more inquisitive than pressing,
Yuuri takes the time to give another deep kiss at his husband before climbing
off the couch, heading towards the door hiding his son’s room.

Lyosha does not always wake up and call for him
– Victor has his load of “DiiiddYYY” as well – but when he does, it is usually
because he woke up in a good mood, and had probably been awake for a while
before deciding to call on someone. The two years-old tends to call on Victor
when his need of company is more urgent, because the man does get out of bed quicker than his spouse.

As Yuuri sets foot in the darkened room, two
round eyes and a standing little boy in blue and purple pajamas await him,
clutching the bar bed and swaying his hips.

“Papa?” he asks, simultaneously smiling and
hiding his face under the bar bed.

“Yees, Babyboy! It’s mooorning!” Yuuri
enthusiastically coos before scoping him up.
“Did you sleep well, Lyosha-chan?”

“Papa!” Lyosha answers with glee, nuzzling his
face in his father’s neck.

Yuuri brings him out of the room and into the
corridor, where Victor is leaning on the wall. The Russian man moves to embrace
them both, making noisy kisses on his son’s head and neck while playfully
swinging them from right to left, much to the delight of the little boy.

“Who’s my favorite baby? Who’s the most pretty
baby??” he gushes, enjoying the good mood of his son as much as he can.

He unfortunately knows all about babies’ mood
swings by now. That’s why he reluctantly detaches himself from them, ready to
start on the family breakfast while Yuuri heads to the bathroom. First things first,
after all.

The day is a lazy winter Sunday. They have
nothing to do, and no will to do something. Usually they would go visit one of
their rink mates, or a park, or their favorite café. Today, Yuuri’s only wish
is to stay in their home, wrapped up in a thick plaid and taking turns playing
with his baby. Of course, he is aware that the dogs eagerly pacing around
Victor as his husband sets up the table will need to be walked through the
pinching and freezing wind, but he determinedly intends on it being the only
outing of his family today.

“Say, Yuuri…” Victor starts when they are all
seated at the kitchen table with a warm drink, dogs happily snuffing at their
food a few meters away. “What do you say we stay here, today? I know you wanted
to teach Yurio how to make curry but…”

Yuuri grins at his partner, all to ready to
give in.

“I’ll text Yurio later” he says back, sipping
at his coffee. “And if he doesn’t want to cancel, he can very well come here.”

“True. How come we are growing this lazy, my
Yuuri? Is it because we’re becoming old?”

“Pff”, Yuuri scoffs. “Talk for yourself. I
think I just want a calm day. The last weeks have been crazy, what’s with the
ice show repetitions and Lyosha-chan’s cold…”

They both shiver at the memory, mechanically
checking on their child who is contently sipping at his bottle, not too fussy
for once.

“I hate it when he’s sick”, Victor confides,
stirring his warm chocolate maybe a bit too fast. “I feel so guilty.”

Yuuri nods, keeping his gaze on his son. The
first time Lyosha had been sick, they providentially still had been living in
Japan, and Yuuri’s family had been of a great help. Old family remedies and
emotional support got them through it, but Yuuri does not think he can ever
forget the expression of pure misery on Victor’s features as he watched his
baby struggles.

Victor, he learned, was good with their sweetheart. He would have never pictured it when
they met and Victor had still been the flamboyant five time gold-medalist ice skater.
But he got to witness him successively grow into a husband, and then into a
father. He got to see Victor with drool stains on his tailored shirts, Victor
patiently waving a spoon in front of a stubbornly closed little mouth for what
seemed hours, Victor terribly humming to calm a flailing baby, Victor sobbing
out of exasperation as said baby had been crying non-stop…

“Come on, Yuuri, your coffee is growing cold.”
Victor gently remarks, extending his arm to touch his spouse’s knee.

After breakfast, they settle back on the couch,
letting their son frolic in his play area before the turned-off television.
Lately he has been very fond of getting random objects, bringing them to his
parents or even to the dogs, before running off somewhere else and crash on the
carpeted floor. He immediately sets to work, filling the house with loud noises
and babbles.

Yuuri leans his head on Victor’s shoulder, both
huddled together under the plaid, as they watch the little boy enjoy himself. He
sighs, suddenly filled with warmth.  At
this moment, he is sure that he is right where he is supposed to be, right
where he wants to be.

“You know, Yuuri…it’s so perfect, like this,” Victor mumbles.

He hoists their hands up and kisses his husband’s
ring finger with his plump lips. As he loses himself into his partner’s blue
gaze, he can only agree.

It is a loving, relaxing and perfect lazy
winter Sunday.