The first time Victor heard it, he thought he imagined it. It was nothing more than a gentle humming coming from the bathroom, a sound he could barely hear over the water running in the shower. Victor quickly shook it off, assuming it was nothing, and continuing what he was doing. It wasn’t until a few days later that he realised he wasn’t imagining it.
Victor was sat on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolled through a wall of images, most of them belonging to Phichit. He had just passed yet another photo of a meal when the sound returned, but this time it was louder. This time, it was more than just humming. Victor’s finger stilled on his phone screen as he listened to the sound of Yuuri’s soft voice, the way the notes of the song he was singing seemed to roll off his tongue. But Victor couldn’t see him, and he wanted desperately to, wanted the certainty that he wasn’t imagining it this time.
It takes no time at all for Victor to get to his feet, following the gentle sound of Yuuri’s voice. Whatever the song he’s singing is, it’s definitely Japanese, and Victor can’t be sure what the words are, but it doesn’t matter. Yuuri’s voice is soft and soothing, and Victor could listen to it forever. It was as he reached the bedroom that he saw it; Yuuri sat on the bed with Makkachin, playing with her ears as he sang to her. Makkachin seemed to be completely asleep, soothed by Yuuri’s voice, and Victor couldn’t blame her.
The steps Victor took as he made his way into the room were delicate, afraid to break the spell of the moment, but he could see Yuuri’s smile, see how completely happy he was in that moment. Victor could’ve sworn his heart melted just at the sight of it.
The song seemed to blend into something else, Yuuri no longer seeming to care about what the words were. Victor couldn’t contain his grin as he watched Yuuri lift her ears as he sang gently to her, “Makkachin, Makkachin, Makka Makka Makkachin…”
“You spoil her,” Victor finally spoke as he got close enough, sitting at the edge of the bed, “How come you never sing to me like that?”
Yuuri’s blush appeared in an instant, his eyes trained on the sleeping poodle in front of him, “I don’t know. I never really thought you’d want me to.”
Victor didn’t waste a moment, shifting himself until he was laying on the bed, his head rested in Yuuri’s lap as he closed his eyes, “Sing to me, Yuuri.”
Despite the surprised laughter, Yuuri’s fingers tangled delicately through Victor’s hair, and soon he slipped into yet another song, the words unfamiliar but comforting. There were still so many things Victor had to learn about Yuuri, but every one of them seemed to bring new joys into his life.
Yuuri stands back and stares at the blank walls of Victor’s living room. He places his hands on his hips and thinks for a moment. From across the room, Victor stares at him.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
Yuuri looks back with a frown. “There are no picture on the wall.” Victor nods. “Why?”
“Well,” Victor’s starts, turning a slight shade of pink. “I’ve never had… any… pictures… to put up.”
The words come out painfully sincere, like he knows it’s the saddest thing to possibly say on Yuuri’s first day there. Especially when Yuuri grew up in a home covered wall to wall in family pictures. Of course he’d notice the lack of warmth in his apartment.
For the first time in a long time, Victor was embarrassed.
“Well,” Yuuri stresses, “You do now.” He walks over to a box labeled fragile and pulls out a stack of frames and albums, and hands it to Victor.
He looks at the stack for a moment and smiles.
“My mom packed all of the photos we took last summer,” Yuuri says gleefully. “Not before making copies, though. Plus, I’ve got some pictures from the past season in there too. Where do you keep the command strips?”
Victor swears he’s going to cry, but Yuuri kisses him before he can even think to.
“Come on, lets put them up.”
A warm evening breeze runs through the rooms of their apartment, light and lifting like the classical music playing in the background. The pitter patter of Makkachin scurrying from room to room echoes throughout, mixing with laughter. It was a familiar scene, but something was different. More lively.
Asgard, finally settling in Norway to repopulate: So, what are the Nordic lands famous for since we were last here? Swordsmanship? Hunting parties? Bloodbaths?!?!
Millenial sipping iced coffee: Abba
Asgard: ???
Asgard, twenty minutes later bopping to Dancing Queen:
If you identify as female and play video games. Please reblog this. I want to prove a point that there are LOADS of us. If you can spare the time. Tag what you play!
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