They scroll through Vicchan pictures for who-knows-how-long. Victor seems genuinely delighted, cooing and fawning over Vicchan's toe beans and fluffy curls. He's constantly asking Yuuri for the next picture. Luckily, Yuuri has a lot of pictures to offer, scrolling through each one at Victor's request.

"He really does look like Makka!" Victor exclaims when they land on a picture of Vicchan carrying a stick twice the length of his body. "He must be full of energy. Why didn't you bring him abroad?"

Yuuri pauses, his finger hovering over the screen. "I thought... well, I didn't want to assume that I could just bring a dog to your palace... I mean, it's your home."

"Yuuri," Victor complains, drawing out the syllables of his name again. The pout on his face makes Yuuri huff an involuntary laugh. "It's your home now, too. You don't need permission."

"I suppose that's true," Yuuri relents, still somewhat hesitant.

"We can send someone to pick up Vicchan and bring him over here if you want," Victor offers. Gesturing to Makka, who's trotting back over with a stick, he says, "Then we can be a happy family of four!"

Yuuri nods, looking at the picture of Vicchan one last time before pocketing his phone. He pets Makka as she arrives, but he doesn't give much focus to his actions. Instead, he finds himself deep in thought over one question in particular: who is Victor's family?

It's relatively well-known that Victor was the only child of the former king and queen, thus the crown was obviously passed down to him. But the previous king and queen only ruled for a short while, as they passed away unexpectedly. Since they passed when Victor was mere months old, a regent ruled over the kingdom until Victor was of age to inherit.

All of that was years before Yuuri was even born. Even though the procession of events is common knowledge, Yuuri still feels like he doesn't know enough. He knows surface-level details of Victor's family—their names, what kind of policies they promoted, and how they got along with Yuuri's parents—but if he's being honest, Yuuri doesn't know all that much about Victor's family. What were they like? Does Victor even remember them?

It seems like too sensitive of a topic to bring up, so Yuuri skirts around it. "Victor... do you have anyone you consider family right now? Other than Makka?"

Perhaps even that was still too personal to ask, as Victor's expression takes on the slightest hint of melancholy. Yuuri immediately feels sympathy and guilt for causing that expression at all.

Just as he's about to backtrack and assure Victor that he doesn't have to answer, Victor speaks. "I wouldn't say I have a conventional family, no. I'm sure you're aware of my parents' passing when I was young. Yakov—the regent that ruled until I was of age—is probably the closest thing I've ever had to a father. I obviously don't have any children or siblings of my own, so I've named Yuri my heir."

Yuuri stares at Victor, uncomprehending. "What?"

Victor blinks back at him, equally confused. "What, what?"

"You said you named me your heir, but I'm the royal consort," Yuuri says. "I can't inherit your kingdom."

Victor's brow furrows in deeper confusion before his eyes suddenly shoot wide with recognition. Then, he throws his head back and laughs, bright and loud.

"No, not you. I'm talking about another Yuri," Victor explains, pulling out his own phone. After tapping the screen a few times, he pulls up a photo from his online profile. "See? Yuri Plisetsky, the angriest little kitten in the world."

Yuuri glances over Victor's shoulder to see a picture of Victor, a balding older man, and a short, frowning teenager. Victor is the only one smiling in the photo, but Yuuri gets the impression that the gruff exteriors on the other two are more of a front than anything else. Even with their stern expressions, they stand close to Victor. He doesn't think anyone would stand that close to anyone they weren't at least somewhat fond of. Not to mention, Victor seems fond of them, too. As flighty as Victor can be, Yuuri can't imagine him being entirely clueless about other's feelings for him. If anyone disliked him, he can't imagine Victor would be interested in posting photos with them on his profile.

"Have I been pronouncing your name wrong?" Victor asks. "I've been pronouncing it like I pronounce 'Yuri'. That's not right, is it?"

"I mean... it's close enough."

"Close enough isn't good." Victor shakes his head. "If we're going to be married, pronouncing your name right is the bare minimum. How do I say it?"

"Well, uh, there's more of an emphasis on the yoo sound at the beginning. The 'u' is a little more drawn out."

"Yuuuuuuuuri."

"...Not like that."

"Yoori?"

Yuuri snorts. "Okay, that wasn't even close."

Victor leans in, smiling and gazing at him from behind his eyelashes. "Yuuri?"

Oh no. Did he just—did he just purr Yuuri's name?

Heat creeps up his neck, all the way to his ears. The flush on his face must be embarrassingly obvious, because Victor's smile grows.

"Uh," is all Yuuri can say before he clears his throat. "That was a lot better."

Victor tilts his head, his eyes softening at the edges. He murmurs, "Did I get it that time?"

Yuuri swallows. "Yeah. Without a doubt."

Victor seems pleased by his victory, laughing lightly to himself as he sits straight again. He looks down at Makka sitting by their feet, watching her doze off in the sand with a stick in her mouth. After a moment of amusing themselves with the sight, Victor looks out at the ocean and says, "I don't really have a family in the conventional sense. But Yakov and Yuri are good. I have Mila and Georgi, too—although you probably haven't met them yet—so I'm not alone." Turning to Yuuri, he steals his breath with another smile. "It'll be nice to have you become a part of the family."

Yuuri nods, somewhat astonished that Victor is willing to open his arms to him so easily. Wanting to reciprocate and still feeling a bit guilty for bringing up Victor's difficult family life, Yuuri replies, "You're welcome to be a part of my family, too. They'd love you."

"Oh? And what are they like?"

"What are they like?" Yuuri repeats, as if asking himself the question. Leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees, he huffs a short laugh. "I mean, where do I even begin?"

Victor stays quiet, clearly giving him time to sort out his thoughts. Yuuri finds his words after another moment of contemplation. Even though there's no way to fully encapsulate a person in one conversation alone, he wants to do his best. He wants Victor to understand them like he does.

"You've met my parents," he starts, referring to the countless events they've attended together as the respective rulers of their countries. "They're pretty much what they present themselves to be, to be honest. They're kind and thoughtful." Memories of scraping his knee, or being teased, or even his first panic attack return to him, but they're all softened when he remembers that his parents were there for him through each one. A soft smile tugs onto his face. "Growing up, I always knew that I could go to them with anything. They have so much love in their hearts."

"They sound wonderful," Victor says, genuine and heartfelt. "What about your sister? Is she as kind as them?"

"Mari?" Yuuri nearly laughs with incredulity, but he stifles himself. He doesn't want Victor to get the wrong idea. "She's... well, I mean, she's my sister. Of course she isn't nice to me. But she makes up for it by being funny. And by being a good listener. I know she cares, deep down, but that doesn't mean she doesn't tease me ruthlessly."

"What does she tease you about?" Victor wonders.

Yuuri hopes his face doesn't turn red at the question. There's no way he's explaining that Mari has teased him for the embarrassing crush he's had on Victor since he was a kid!

"Just things," he answers, vaguely. He jumps to the next topic quickly. "There are other people I consider family, even if they aren't related to me by blood. There's Yukko, Takeshi, the triplets..."

Victor smiles at him. "They all sound wonderful."

"They are," Yuuri states, nodding. "They've always supported me, even though I'm not exactly princely material."

Victor's smile turns to a frown of confusion. "What do you mean?"

Yuuri blinks back at him. "What?"

"Why would you think you're not princely material?"

"Oh. I mean, I'm not a bad prince. I'm just mediocre. I'm kind of... kind of a dime a dozen prince, if that makes sense."

Victor's face scrunches up with greater confusion, and if Yuuri's not mistaken, a hint of offense. "That's not true. Even if I were marrying you solely for political benefit, you would still be the best choice."

Yuuri can only stare. "Huh?"

"You're level-headed. You're a talented diplomat."

Yuuri's not entirely sure he believes that, but in all honesty, he's not thinking too hard about it right now. No, right now, he's trying to wrap his head around something specific Victor just said: even if I were marrying you solely for political benefit...

What does that mean? Isn't Victor marrying him for political benefit, though? For the alliance? It's not like there's any other reason.

Or is there?

And if there is, what would it be?

Yuuri doesn't get much time to think about it, because Victor smiles at him and says, "I think this is going to work out wonderfully. You're the perfect person to be my husband."

A flush spreads all across his face, and his heart stutters in his chest.

"Yeah," he manages to say, "I think so, too."

He really does.