Yuuri has heard of winter swimming before.

While attending university and training in North America, he's heard of their version that included drilling massive holes in icy ponds and leaping right in.

He loves the ice, but not that much.

Staying above the ice is what Yuuri prefers.

Russia doesn't play around when it comes to ice or winter swimming, Yuuri discovers—they hold an entire festival and the local community races in St. Petersburg. Conveniently, it's where they are still living.

Viktor drags him to Shuvalovskoye Lake, his face lighting up with the adorable, heart-shaped smile Yuuri remembers from years ago. It's hard to believe it's been over twenty years since the first GPF and banquet.

"I'll be fun!" he cheers, bundling up their two-year-old daughter in multiple layers and pushing a knitted, baby blue hat over her ears. "Won't it, golubka moya?" Viktor asks in his childishly high voice reserved solely for Hana. She squeals loudly in delight and wiggles herself on her bottom.

"Hopefully she wears herself out with all of the excitement." Yuuri picks her up, cradling Hana gently to himself and kissing her dark, downy hair while Viktor grabs the diaper bag. There's an additional bag in Viktor's hand, but Yuuri doesn't question it. "Where's Kristina? I thought she was coming…?"

"Fast asleep," Viktor informs him, hiking up one of the bags. "She caught my stomach bug from last week."

Yuuri's face scrunches, a frown tugging on his lips.

"Wait—wait, maybe we shouldn't go then—"

Viktor sighs, leaning over and kissing the tip of Yuuri's pinkened nose. "She's sixteen, Yuuri. Kristina's got our numbers and the emergency numbers," he explains with an absurd amount of patience. "She'll be fine."



His parents were never much for being worrywart parents. They raised him and Mari with generous, ceaseless encouragement for their interests and freedom to make their own mistakes.

So… Yuuri assumes his lifelong struggle with anxiety formed most of his worrying.

He and Viktor recently adopted Hana, from Yuuri's own hometown, but Kristina is a foster teen from Moscow. She had been pulled in and out of various homes since infancy. The way Kristina held onto her anger and resentment and distrust of everyone… it reminded Yuuri of how Yurio used to be as a teenager.

After a couple of years, Kristina warmed up to the antics of the Katsuki-Nikiforov household. She dropped her own worries of being thrown out. Her insecurities returned with Hana's arrival—one of Kristina's foster families abandoned her after a new baby—but he and Viktor sat down to explain that Kristina is their family.

And nothing could ever change that.

Kristina's pale forefinger would stroke Hana's plump, tiny cheek. As if mesmerized. "She's got brown eyes just like me," she whispered, smiling faintly and looking over to them at the end of the crib.

"And Yuuri! Yuuri's eyes are brown!" Viktor gushed, wrapping an arm each around his husband and foster-daughter. He grimaced sympathetically when both Yuuri and Kristina shushed him harshly.

The memory brings a fond, little smile to Yuuri's wind-chapped mouth.

If he and Viktor have their way, they'll have Kristina's adoption papers finalized by March. Only two months away. And then she'll never be without her family ever again. Yuuri's mom has already been calling both Hana and Kristina her granddaughters and insisting Yuuri bring them home to Hasetsu again soon.

"Yuuri! Yuuuri!" Viktor waves from the edge of the icy lake, stripped down to a pair of black Speedos. The other, mostly naked swimmers duck from Viktor's flailing arm. "Watch me!"

Yuuri waves back awkwardly, his embarrassment overwhelming. Once Viktor isn't looking, Yuuri slaps a hand over his own face. Hana glances up quickly and bewildered at Yuuri's head at the sound of impact.

"Never get married, okay?" Yuuri says earnestly, adjusting her in the crook of his arm. "You promise?"

The two-year-old babbles out something cute and unintelligible. He's taking it as a yes.



"Why does he look like that?"

Kristina stares confused at them from the bottom stair.

Yuuri carries in Hana and their bags, and a pinch-faced Viktor shivers after him with a huge, wool blanket draped around him. "Viktor decided to go swimming." Yuuri scowls a little, looking at his husband's back. "This is his own fault."

The other man sniffles and walks away, not bothering to wipe away the mucus leaking out of his nostrils. "Yuuuuri… come warm me up…!" Viktor shouts from the other room, his teeth chattering audibly.

Yuuri glances over Kristina for a moment, his glasses fogging over from the chilly outdoors. Her braided, amber-yellow hair tangled up into loosened curls. Kristina's cheeks appear red, but not a feverish kind.

"How are you feeling? How's your stomach?"

"… Not nauseous anymore, so that's good news, I guess," she murmurs, rubbing her eyelid with the blunt edges of her magenta-colored fingernails. "I was gonna make some toast or something…"

Viktor whines again. Hana shifts impatiently in the hold of Yuuri's arms, crying out and reaching her pudgy hands towards the direction of her other father's voice. Yuuri coos down to her, bouncing her.

"Make some ginger tea with it. That'll help."

"Thanks, Dad—" Kristina's face goes bright red, just as Yuuri's eyes widen in astonishment. "I, uh, crap—"

He laughs, but kindly, touching Kristina's shoulder consolingly. The teenager lowers her gaze, biting on her lower lip. "Go eat. I better go see what Viktor wants before he and Hana burst into tears."

It echoes a weaker, low laugh out of her, and Yuuri watches her scurry away with fondness.

Hana renews her efforts to get to Viktor when they step into the next room . Viktor cracks a smile, despite his briefly foul mood, holding out his hands for his little girl. "No—get out of those wet clothes first, then you can hold her," Yuuri says firmly, ignoring the complaining sound from Viktor and a pout.

Once Viktor is bare-chested and has a less damp blanket smoothed in his lap, Yuuri passes Hana to her.

"Papa's cold, I'm sorry," Viktor murmurs. The lamplight catches the gold glint of his wedding ring on Viktor's finger, while he grasps Hana's sides to lift her, easing her to a comfortable position on Viktor's legs.

Yuuri's eyes follow it, his own thumb pressing slowly down on his matching, golden wedding ring.

He moves just as slowly, waiting for Viktor's full attention before kissing him, cupping the side of Viktor's face. A deep, satisfied noise rumbling out of him. Hana yawns silently, laying her head on Victor's chest.

They're getting old, Yuuri realizes. There's little crow's feet around Viktor's blue eyes. It's getting harder to lose weight for him, and Viktor doesn't snub his thick thighs and belly. More to love about you, as he puts it.

"Did you ever think it would be like this, Vitya?" Yuuri whispers, feeling Viktor's mouth curl up softly.

Either way, it's better than he ever imagined.



Yuri on Ice isn't mine. ANOTHER YOI WEDNESDAY! I've gotten pretty horrifically sick in the last week, but I'm glad I have enough energy to post. Was inspired by "Yuuri/Viktor + as parents" from the YOI Kink Meme and I hope everyone enjoys the fluff! Comments/thoughts would actually cheer me up a lot.