Whatever trained rigidity he adopted outside, he's ice cream left in the summer heat when Victor turns to smile at him. The curtains are parted, revealing the radiant gleam of Disneyland, a brilliant view of the theme park that filters vivid neon over his form. From here, with a personal aura of prancing lights and color, Victor looks prepared to conceive and dispense quest-lines of the rarest calibre. Yuuri toes off his shoes, padding across the plush carpeting into Victor's outstretched arms. There's no need for Yuuri to ponder his actions anymore (and vice versa, a thought that has him singing ballads to the universe), hands returning to their home-base on Victor's back, lips ticklish on the crest of his neck.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"We have the entire night." Victor strokes his hair gently, "Any trouble to report getting up here?"

"No. We're in the clear. Love the view."

"It's shit compared to mine."

Yuuri sinks into him at that, loving the way they fit together, the fingers dancing in his hair, the soft illumination in Victor's gaze, magic swirling in those glittering blue eyes. It's breathtaking the way their virtual selves have been fully realized in this offline space, the chips that hovered over them for years, growing and evolving as they did, rewarding them by aligning the stars in their fall.

There's just one more thing...

"Yuuri."

Victor tilts his head, perplexed, "I'm sorry?"

"My name. It's Yuuri Katsuki."

"Yuu...ri...did you just..." Victor goes limp with shock, and Yuuri's soul weeps at the mixture of amazement and joy directed his way.

"I did."

"You didn't have to," Victor hiccups, the tears that threatened to spill during dinner rippling for a second time over the waves of blue, "I didn't mind. You've given me plenty."

"I've wanted to tell you for a long time, Victor. I never had the courage to send those messages," Yuuri caresses Victor's cheek, enjoys the flecks of pink that follow in his fingers' wake, "and plus, the car was one thing, but what name were you planning on using tonight?"

Victor chuckles under his breath, "That has to be the most self-indulgent argument you've ever put forward. Yuuri."

Yuuri's heartbeat flutters, "I could get used to that." He plays absently with Victor's fine silver locks, "Will I be able to get used to that?"

"Geez, Yuuri, at least ask me on a second date first."

"Does breakfast count as a s- AHH!" With no warning, Victor hoists him off of the ground and Yuuri scrabbles at his biceps, locking his legs safely around Victor's waist, squealing when he's unceremoniously backed into the floor-to-ceiling glass window.

"I'm sure we can make an exception," Victor goes in for the kill, tongue ravishing and tenacious, "and for the record, I'm looking forward to a third date," another blinding kiss, "and a fourth," breath streaking over his jaw, "and a celebratory joint stream where I can shamelessly flirt with you."

"We already do that." Yuuri sighs, eyes closing of their own accord when Victor rolls his hips; intentionally, leisurely, and oh so dirtily.

"Yes, but next time, we'll have this and other exceptional memories with us, Yuuri."

Who is he to deny that rock-solid logic? Just keep saying my fucking name, Jesus Christ, "It won't be easy. Long distance, constant travel...long hours...my identity..." Victor bites into his lip and Yuuri stumbles across a new religion, "Things...stuff..."

"None of those things bother me." Victor says against his lips, low and sexy and exquisitely sincere, "Being without you, however, will." Yuuri shivers at the chill creeping over his skin, two buttons of his shirt, then three, falling open under Victor's care, "I have no intention of this being the last time I see you."

"You'll never stop spoiling me, will you, Victor?"

Now, cramped into the backseat of his stuffy rental with Eros firmly seated in his lap, it registers all over again. There's no going back for either of us, is there?

They approached the car hand-in-hand, separated to either side and, without orchestration, bypassed the front seats to jump into the back of the vehicle and launch themselves at each other with no regard for life or limb. It's power too long contained, pent-up emotions syncing and brawling, longing pushing madly to the surface to the tune of gasps and moans (track ten of the Victor-Eros OST). Jackets and leftovers are tossed in the vicinity of the driver's seat before Victor finds himself manhandled underneath Eros, hands fisted impossibly tight into his collar, kiss lush and wet, lips moving with a sweeping sensuality over his. It fills Victor with a heady glow that goes all the way to his brain and super novas any thought not related to Eros' wicked beauty.

There's a thin trace of glitter on Eros' face and neck, residue from Victor's dabbling in his guild's cosplay. It's doubtlessly that the specks will get everywhere and glitter is ridiculous in sticking around for weeks at a time, but Eros pays no mind to being showered in the iridescent dust, tugging Victor closer and closer, as though they're not already tangled like unattended and misbehaving power cords.

Eros tastes of sweets and ale. There's a lingering scent of coffee on his shirt and a dash of cologne parallel to his jaw. His jeans are rich, velvety, thighs smooth under Victor's palms. The hopeless dishevelment of Eros' hair and clothes, cheeks stained with a growing fire, makes for the most memorable sight in Victor's short life. He's enraptured, romping around in a car like a fucking teenager, making out with the man of his dreams.

It's better than anything he ever imagined.

"I really like you, Victor. I've liked you since I first saw you stream," Eros says, eyes plucked right out of the night sky, "You're so fucking beautiful."

And he just keeps making it a thousand times better.

It's a far cry from the sometimes oblique nature of their online interactions, certainly grounding that one fight into the dust. There's no hesitation or jogging around a Möbius Strip of maybes; Eros' unyielding honesty is armor curated by the gods.

"I'm sorry it took so long, that I took so long to tell y-"