Yuri jogs down to meet him, and Victor waits until he does, the breeze off the water buffeting his hair into his face and out again, making the world blur through a fog of silver, before clearing again.

But he waits, because Yuri is coming towards him, with that same new looseness to his shoulders that makes Victor want to sling an arm around them, silky black hair rumpling in the same playful breeze that's toying with Victor's, making him want to run his palm over it, fingers through it.

Keeping one hand at his side, and the other in his pocket, instead, and only turning to walk down towards where the water is lapping gently at the sand once Yuri has caught up.

Past the tideline, the sand is packed and wet, and his steps leave perfect imprints that are and are nothing like the shining lines of water and carved ice he leaves on the ice. Stopping just where the clear sheets of water begin to fall back, once they've slid up on the sand, before taking that last step.

Dissolving into sudden bright, breathless laughter, at the cold, too chilly to be comfortable, but that lights all his nerves up at once, as if someone threw a switch. "Ah, it's cold!"

Dancing back out of the surf with a laugh, until Maccachin comes running past him to splash headlong into the water, and Victor runs right after him, the splashes from his toes spattering the ankles of his pants and making them cling, cold and clammy.

But the sun is out, and Maccachin is barking, and Victor is laughing, and he can't remember the last time he played in the ocean like a child.