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“You know what?” Viktor said, pulling at his hair, “I think I’m going to grow my hair out again.”
“Oh?” Yuuri blinked, looking up from his phone. He was sprawled comfortably across Viktor’s couch, his legs draped across Viktor’s lap. “Why? N-not that I think you’d look bad with long hair or anything! I’m just curious as to why you decided that.”
“I always liked the way it looked,” Viktor said, twirling strands of his hair between his fingers. “But maintaining it was too time-consuming for me to keep up with, so I cut it short. However, now that I don’t have to worry about skating competitively, I can grow it out!”
“Really, you wouldn’t want to compete again?” Yuuri asked.
“Oh, maybe,” Viktor said nonchalantly. “But for the time being, it’s not something I have to worry about.”
“If you’re sure,” Yuuri said. “Long hair looked good on you, in any case.”
Viktor smiled widely. “I never knew you thought that!”
Yuuri flushed and brought his phone closer to his face in a vain attempt to hide his blush. “But you already know I grew up idolizing you,” he murmured. “Of course I found you stunning.”
Viktor laughed, maneuvering himself so he lay parallel to Yuuri, squishing Yuuri between him and the back of the couch. It was a tight fit, but Viktor maintained the position, despite Yuuri’s stuttering protests. “Had I known you, then,” Viktor said, “I am sure I would have found you just as stunning.”
Yuuri’s blush deepened, and Viktor pressed a kiss to his forehead. Yuuri mumbled something incoherent into Viktor’s shoulder as Viktor ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “Did you ever have long hair?” he asked.
“No,” Yuuri said. “I… I had considered it for a time, because you looked so good with long hair. But I figured I wouldn’t, so I never did. It would have just been weird.”
“Weird?” Viktor repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Well, long hair is for girls, mostly,” Yuuri muttered. “Not that many men can pull it off. I certainly couldn’t have, not like you.”
Momentarily speechless, Viktor busied himself by brushing Yuuri’s bangs out of his face. He bit at his lip, trying to organize his Russian thoughts into English words. “I never really fully considered myself a man,” he began, holding Yuuri’s gaze to see his reaction. “It was fine to be seen as one, I spent my life presenting as one, but… I’m not one, not fully. It’s partly why I loved having long hair so much, and why my favorite costume was the one you now wear for Eros, because it was a representation of the male and female genders.” He took a breath. “But if it is easier for you to see me as a man, I don’t–”
“Not at all,” Yuuri blurted. “I don’t want to see you as anything other than the person you really are. And… thank you. I’ve never thought about it myself, but, um, I think I can relate to what you’re telling me.”
“And that’s all right,” Viktor said warmly. “I don’t want to see you as anything other than the person you really are, either.”
Yuuri smiled, eyes sparkling like he’d just finished a flawless performance on the ice. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said.
Viktor’s heart leapt in his chest, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Yuuri to pull him closer to his chest. “As am I, solnyshko. I’m glad you’re here with me, too.”