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Chapter Text

The audience was still wild with applause.  Standing on that podium – even if to one side – Yuri felt a pride unlike any he’d ever known.  No victory from the previous season – not even the fact that they’d gotten him to the Sochi Final in the first place – could compare to that moment.  The silver felt heavy around his shoulders, and he glanced aside to where Yurio and JJ stood on their own levels.  Yurio, of course, was rather indignant about his victory; he was entitled to it, he broke that Short Program record, and he wasn’t going to let anyone see him be too excited about something as paltry as the gold medal.  Anything less would have been offensive.  JJ, however, looked lost and out of place, like he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there; no doubt, his mental collapse still dogged him.

The anthem had finished though, and those obligatory podium-photos were taken, but then the athletes were allowed to come down, and Yuri carefully made his way towards rink-side.  He could feel the icy stare of blue eyes upon him, and he swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, even if a smile crept across his face, "It's not a gold medal, but..." Yuri started, bowing his head down a little.  He held the silver in his hands by the lanyard, letting the round, glimmering disc dangle beneath it.  His mentor stood ahead of him, proud all the same - even if a little disappointed, deep down. 

Tousling that silver hair, Victor quirked his head to the side and smiled, "I don't feel like kissing it unless it's gold."

Yuri blanched, the medal wavering as he took a defensive half-step backward.

"Man...  I really wanted to kiss Yuri's gold medal..." Victor whined, mostly to himself, but then took a step closer, "I'm such a failure as a coach."  He walked right into the younger man's space, forcing Yuri to back up, almost to the point of putting him right back onto the ice again.  A mischievous look grew on Victor's face as he leaned in close, "Yuri, do you have any suggestions?"  His right hand came up to his chin, the gold band on his finger gleaming under the lights high above, and his face took on a more serious expression, "Something that would excite me?" 

Half a dozen truly inappropriate things ran through Yuri's mind in that instant.  He just stammered nervously in response; it was all he could do to avoid toppling over where he stood. 

"What did you think just now?" Victor purred.

Cherry-hazel eyes clamped shut even as Yuri's cheeks flushed, but he opened them again and looked at the man looming over him, trying – and failing - to maintain some semblance of composure, "Oh...uh, well..."  He stuttered incoherently.  Mentally, he took a moment to regain himself, and then rose up, forcing the Russian back and pushed him down to the ground; the silver medal was forgotten, and fell to the floor nearby.  "Victor!"  Yuri called out resolutely, perched on the heels of his skates above the man's right leg.  He leaned in close to hug his stunned coach tightly, "Please stay in competitive skating with me for one more year!  Next time, I'll win gold for sure!"

Slate-blue eyes widened in surprise as Yuri pulled back, and Victor could do little more than stare at the man with hope and anticipation.  That quiet affect quickly gave way to an exuberant chirp, "GREAT!!" He quipped happily; eyes were huge with excitement.  He brought his own hands up close to his face, "But keep going!"

"Eh?"  Yuri choked, leaning away, caught off guard a little by the Russian's overzealous response.

Victor turned to the right and grabbed the forgotten medal, "Even I'm worried about making a full comeback if I'm staying on as your coach."  He said as he pulled the lanyard through his fingers and held it properly, lifting it up to place it over his student's head.  He settled the colored ribbon gently around shining shoulders, "In exchange, I'll need you to become a five-time World Champion, at least."

The sentiment was overwhelming.  Tears suddenly fell from Yuri's eyes, sliding down his cheeks to drip off his chin.  They fell past where his hand clung to that silver disc, "Okay."  He said weakly, trying to stay coherent.  He then leaned forward again, wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders…and cried.

.

The arena had gone completely dark.  Music was playing overhead for the Pair Skaters already on the ice.  The Grand Prix Final Exhibition Gala was officially underway, and Yuri was to be the second of three from Men's Singles to get to go out.  He stood at rink-side with his coach, butterflies rising in his stomach, his limbs feeling hot despite the cold of the arena.  He felt a hand come up and squeeze his shoulder, and he turned his head to meet its source.

"Knock it out, Yuri." Celestino said, giving him a thumbs up, "I can already tell what you're about to do."

Yuri nodded excitedly, "Thank you!"  He bowed his head, his cheeks a bit pink, though it was hard to tell with just the glow of the spotlights to see by, "It's been a long journey...  I...I hope I make you proud tonight."

"You always made me proud." The older coach corrected, patting that shoulder again before letting go, and turned his eyes towards the man who'd replaced him as coach, "He's finally starting to live up to the potential I always knew he had.  I guess you're not a half-bad teacher after all. "

Victor huffed, but smiled innocently anyway, "He just needed a different kind of motivation."

Yuri glanced back nervously, seeing the knowing grin on the Russian's face, "...You would say something like that, Victor..."

“Was anything I said wrong?” The silver-haired man affectionately leaned in to cling to his athlete's arm, and perched his chin on one shoulder.  He batted his eyes slowly, deliberately, "Or are you saying you didn't appreciate my unique approach?" 

Yuri just chortled in embarrassment and pushed the man away with a hand against that grinning face, smiling despite it all as Victor laughed at his reaction.  Once standing normally again though, Yuri saw his idol give a happy sigh.  He tried to get serious again after that, "It's almost my turn."

"Mh." The Russian agreed, nodding, "It's time to bring it all home; to skate the way your friends and fans have always known you could."

Yuri nodded as well, his skate-guard thunk'ing against the ground as he took a step forward.  He wrapped his arms around the man who'd gotten him back into the sport, after such a close brush with retirement, "This is as much for you as it is for Celestino.  For everything you've done, for bringing me this far...for helping to give me what I lacked...Victor, arigatou gozaimasu."

Returning the hug easily, Victor nuzzled his student's cheek, "You always had it in you, buried down in the dark somewhere.  But I'm glad to have been the one to help bring it into the light."  He said, patting Yuri's back before pulling up again, and looked him in the eyes.  He pressed his palm to the younger man's cheek, and rubbed his thumb across it adoringly, "Go show the world how much you've grown.  I'm proud of you, Yuri."

Hazel eyes got misty as he heard the words, and Yuri buried his face against the Russian's shoulder a second time, eyes watering again for the happiness of it all.  It was serendipitous that the audience started to clap and cheer at the exact same time; the Pair Skaters ended their Exhibition and came off the ice nearby, but in Yuri’s mind, he let himself think it was for him and Victor.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The announcer said high above, "Please welcome to the ice...your Grand Prix Final Men's Singles silver medalist...Yuri Katsuki!"

Anxious, Yuri leaned back and rubbed his eyes on the back of his sleeve, pulling his track-suit coat off to reveal the costume beneath it.  The gradient of black-to-blue flames on the stomach, rising up the chest to end in a short white turtle-neck.  The sky-blue lapels to either side that came down to a point as they joined at the lower hem.  The royal blue sleeves that ended in white ruffles over gloveless hands.  Yuri gently handed his jacket over to his coach and reached down to pull his blade-guards away, giving them over as well. 

As Victor took the guards in his left hand, he reached with his right to pull Yuri's ringed hand up, kissing the gold thereupon, and smiled, "Go have fun out there."

Yuri nodded excitedly, the butterflies fluttering-about with even more energy, "Mh."  He gave that hand a gentle squeeze before slowly stepping out, releasing it only at the very limits of his reach.  Cheers and screams rose again - louder than before - when he finally set silver blades to the ice and started moving out into the rink.

[Some members of the audience may recognize this outfit,] Newscaster Morooka was saying, though only the TV and streaming audiences could hear it, [The last time Skater Yuri wore it at an international competition was at last year's Grand Prix Final in Sochi, Russia, where he suffered a catastrophic defeat and came in 6^th place.  Many worried he would retire from the sport after such a crushing humiliation, but thanks to his coach, Victor Nikiforov, he not only returned to competition, but surprised us all by setting a new World Record for the Men's Free Skate, and won silver in the process.  From the bottom of Japan's heart, and the world's...Coach Victor, thank you!  And to Yuri...congratulations!]

Yuri pulled to the center of the rink, mesmerized by the whole thing; the cheering, the adulation, the screams of his name and well-wishes.  He knew when and where he was; seeing himself with a costume from what he still considered his 'dark past' made him a little anxious...but for the first time, it was in a good way.  He finally knew what he was capable of, and every muscle in his body twitched to prove it.  He looked at his hands, his ring helping to ground him in the present.  He set his feet apart, kissed his gold band that Victor had just given his love to a moment before, and crossed his arms over his chest - one hand on each shoulder - and drew one last long breath.

['He Must Go On' - Luke Garret]

The music was quiet, peaceful.

Yuri spun around on the spot in an inside spread-eagle, rotating out again to skate further from center, his arms spread out, descended in front of his chest, and then slowly lifted out again like wings flapping.  As the music grew louder and more intense, so did his turns and twists.

He leapt into a flying camel-spin, moved upright into a scratch-spin, and then lowered himself into a sit-spin as the music got quieter again.  The world was a blur all around him, even in the dark; lights twinkled from the void where the audience was hidden, looking like shooting stars as he spun.  He rose again and pulled away backwards, skating with his eyes nearly closed.

Victor watched intently, practically without blinking.  He'd remembered the last time he'd seen the performance himself, and the pity he'd felt for Yuri even back then.

.

"What's wrong with him?" Victor had overheard someone critiquing the performance in the prep area, "He did well enough to place in the Final and now he's just falling apart."

"Is it first-time GPF jitters?" Someone else asked.

"Who knows?  His Short Program was pretty good though..."

Victor stuffed his hands into the pockets of his half-zipped track-suit coat; the black pants and sheer magenta tips of his ‘Aria’ costume were still visible, but he'd taken on a more casual stance.  He had already done his Free Skate and was just waiting for the last handful of competitors to do theirs before claiming his gold medal.  The large screens in the prep-area made it easy for him to see every detail of every performance, but this one caught his attention more than the rest, "Something happened to him." Victor said to himself quietly, pulling a finger up to his chin in thought, "This isn't like how he was before."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, suddenly stepping up next to him and watching as well, "Didn't think you cared that much at this point."

"I don't care?" Victor repeated, seeing the silhouette of the man out the corners of his eyes, his sights still mostly fixated on the unfolding disaster, "That's harsh."

"You've never really paid that much attention to other skaters before, at least not like this.  You always seem to get a bit aloof with the rest of the competition once you've gotten your final score and know how far ahead of the pack you are." The Swiss skater pointed out, "What do you see that's gotten your attention?"

Victor pulled his hand down and crossed his arms, "Yuri's Short Program the other day still had some excitement in it.  This - even though we've all seen it half a dozen times leading up to today - it's different.  There's a weird sort of melancholy to it.  You're his friend..."

"I am."

"...Did he say anything to you that might explain it?"

Chris thought about it, "No, but...I suppose he didn't seem like himself today.  He's been looking at the ground since he showed up for early morning practice.  If something happened, it was after we'd all left this place last night."

Victor nodded, and then turned away from the screens, heading out to the rink-side area quietly.  Chris watched him go with a ponderous expression on his face, but decided against following.  Stepping out into the seating area, the silver legend looked out quietly, standing near a railing that guarded a ledge.  A few people recognized him and called his name, but he was focused and paid them no mind.  ...Here comes the triple Toe-loop... He thought to himself, and winced as Yuri collapsed, sliding nearly into the rink-wall before struggling to get up again and continue on, This is painful to watch...

.

In the dark, spotlights highlighted Yuri’s grace and expertise.  He vaulted flawlessly through a quad Toe-loop followed by a triple-Loop.  He was in top form, spinning with ease as he entered into his step-sequence.

.

"Come on, Yuri...shake it off." The old Victor whispered to himself, "Forget whatever is going on outside this place and just skate."

Yuri Plisetsky was in the lower-level seats of the arena, feet propped-up on the empty chairs in front of himself.  He seemed fixated on the disaster unfolding in the rink; the jumps were embarrassing to look at, and the once-celebrated spins and steps weren’t recovering.  He just scoffed and grit his teeth.

.

Quad Salchow, single Loop, triple Salchow.  The audience roared, and the energy fed into Yuri's body and soul like fuel.  He was in the zone now.

Otabek stood quietly at rink-side with the others, watching the redemptive performance with keen interest; a wry curl at the edge of one lip betrayed his stoic nature.   Beside him, Yurio watched just as intently as he had the last time the show had been put on…but this time, with a far different impression, This is exactly what I wanted to see back then, Katsudon.

.

Sochi!Yuri's enthusiasm for the Free Skate was withering.  The disappointment was palpable, and Celestino tightened where his arms crossed across his chest.  There was nothing the man could do at that point though, and he slowly shook his head.

From the banister, Victor could read that resignation like a book, This is a train-wreck in progress and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. 

.

Quad Loop, and the crowd roared with approval.  Yuri pushed on into a low sweep, rising into a series of two stars before finally sliding into a triple Flip, double Salchow combo.

.

Sochi!Victor turned his eyes back to the ice; Yuri's only quad for the Free Skate was coming up.  He'd changed the program up to emphasize less-difficult combination jumps in favor of more difficult solo jumps.  The Russian Champion wondered if Yuri would even try it at that point.  The build-up looked weak, and it seemed likely the quad would be reduced to a double at best.  Victor felt bad that he was right, watching Yuri leap and again, stumble, and fall.  Unlike Celestino though, who had since put his hands over his face, Victor's eyes were wide open and analyzing.  He was far beyond the moment, looking onto the arena like he had the eyes of God, and could put meaning and intent to every second of what was happening.

.

Yuri spun a few more times, but then burst out in reverse to build up speed for his final major jump...and he threw himself into the air with a click of his toe-pick against the frost.  He spun four times, and landed on the opposite blade...the quad Flip he'd admired; the audience screamed through the dark, and Yuri couldn't help but cheer for himself as well as he glided on, This is so much easier now...

.

The disparity between Barcelona and Sochi was stark.  On that bright, white ice, Yuri was utterly exhausted, and he struggled to push himself up again, skating quickly to regain his previous momentum.  Every second wasted was a point lost.  He'd had to cut a few elements from the end of the program due to lost time already, and so the entrance into his final spin-sequence looked unpolished. 

Amateur, even.

.

In the spectacular darkness of the Gala Arena, Yuri moved into a camel-spin, rotated a few times, and hopped to the other foot to continue on.  He lowered himself into a sit-spin variant to gain momentum, raising one arm above his head for added difficulty.  Ice crystals flew off his blades as he carved his mark into the rink.  When he rose up again, he 'stepped' a few paces backward before rotating one last time, and reached up with both hands for the final pose.  The rising crescendo and ultimate finale of the music was a perfect analogy to the way the skater himself felt; he'd finally risen above his past defeats - victorious - and was stronger than ever, Born again like a Phoenix from the ashes of its own Death.  Blue flames instead of red, burning three times as hot as any normal fire.

Victor had thought the same thing, a look of proud determination on his face as he heard the audience go wild.  He clapped his hands along with the rest, but soon found himself unable to maintain the cool control he was trying to hold onto.  He jumped up with his hands over his head, cheering wildly, "Yuri~!  Amazing~!"

Yuri panted heavily in the middle of the rink, but the feeling of having pulled off that program - especially with the difficulty having been raised so much higher than the last time he'd done it - made him feel like he'd won gold after all.  Tears ran down his face and he bowed to the audience in each of the cardinal directions, waved, and finally turned to head back to rink-side as the spotlight high above cut out, plunging the rink back into darkness.  He rubbed his eyes again like before, but when he raised his face again, this time, he saw not only Victor there clapping for him, but Yurio, Phichit, Chris, Celestino...even Otabek and JJ...they were all clapping.  It was such a departure from the last Grand Prix Final that Yuri almost fell to his knees before he even made it to the rink-wall.  Instead, he collapsed into his coach's waiting arms, and drank in the sweet sound of his own rebirth.

.

When he finally saw where the two twin beds were mashed together, Yuri threw himself face-first across both of them - the silver medal squished under his chest - arms flopped out to the sides.

Victor huffed a laugh where he saw from the hall, letting the door quietly click closed, and removed his long-coat, "You're going to fall asleep and miss the fun later if you stay like that for too long."

Yuri just waved his left hand lazily where it partly hung off the foot of one bed, his words muffled against the sheets, "Just wake me up in an hour.  I need a nap."

Blue eyes half-lidded in amusement, but the Russian moved off without answering, leaving the younger skater to his own devices while he plotted his own next move.  Turning on the shower was the first order of business, then he discarded all of his clothes.  He stuck his hand into the stream of water and found it still cold...but then, instead of waiting for it to warm up and getting in, he left the bathroom entirely and padded softly across the carpet with bare feet, moving close to where Yuri's exhausted limbs hung off the side of the closest bed.

The younger skater was easily asleep already, and didn't notice the figure looming behind him.  Victor just observed carefully, a finger over his mouth as he contemplated things.  He closed his eyes and smirked to himself as both hands went down to Yuri's feet, put a finger on the back of each heel, and pushed down, just enough to get each sneaker to slide off. 

It was only when Yuri felt the weight of another body come to rest along the entire length of his body that he finally awoke.  His eyes went wide, and he stammered incoherent protests in half-conscious confusion.  Pale hands went under his chest, grabbing hold of the medal to pull it free, and lifted the glinting metal in front of Yuri's right shoulder, now visible to them both.  It was enough that Yuri could see that his coach's arms were bare, but what made his cheeks go to a darker shade of crimson was feeling where the man wedged his knees between his own, "...You're naked, aren't you?"  He finally managed, a look of embarrassed surrender on his face.

Victor nosed his student's cheek affectionately, and crossed his ankles up and behind himself, "What difference does it make if you aren't?"

Yuri took the point as it was and stayed quiet, smiling anxiously.  Instead, he turned his eyes to where Victor held the silver disc ahead of him, turning it slightly to glimmer in the light of the setting sun through the window.  His eyes closed a little as he looked away, and despite his earlier pride and excitement, the stark truth of the night's events suddenly hit him...harder than before, like it was a bad thing, "He took it from us by less than a quarter of a point."

"It looks like gold right now though, ne?" The legend asked, making Yuri look up to see how the silver-chrome finish reflected the golden color of the light outside.

"Yeah...but that doesn't make it gold."

"You'll win it next time, like you said."

"You're not disappointed in me, deep down, are you?" Yuri wondered, turning his eyes as he lowered his chin down to the sheets, "After everything you did...in the end, I let you down..."

Victor's brow furrowed, and he set the medal down on the blanket to free up that hand.  He moved to cross both arms under his student's chest, and held him close, "You could never disappoint me.  I firmly believe you'll get your due in time...and really, you broke my Free Skate record yesterday, which I set during a gold medal performance of my own once.  You should be proud of what you did here."

"I am...I just..." Yuri said, but let his words trail, pausing only enough to wiggle out from under his coach and roll onto his side next to the man instead.  His eyes were low, staring at the ring on Victor's hand where he was holding up his head, "...I-"

"...-wanted to get me something round and golden." Victor finished, echoing the words from the days prior.  He reached out his free hand and gently trailed a finger down Yuri's jawline, stopping just under his chin and made him look up with a gentle nudge, "You got that for me, and it's more precious than any medal could ever be."

Hazel eyes looked forward, seeing the Russian there as though for the first time all over again.  Yuri rolled onto his elbows, and looked down as he pushed himself up onto them, feeling where his shoulder pressed against Victor's bare chest.  He felt the Russian's arm settle across his lower back, one knee sliding over the back of his legs, but only barely.  A moment passed in silence before Yuri reached out to pull the medal up again, looking at his own reflection in its mirror-like surface before noting the gold band around his own finger; the matching ring that Victor had given to him at the Sagrada Familia.  After what felt like a while, he turned his eyes from his reflection on the mirrored disc, and found it again in the blue eyes that were watching him.

Victor waited.  For a brief instant, it looked like Yuri was leaning closer...but then hesitated and turned away again.  He smiled despite feeling a little disappointed, but said nothing to question it, simply waiting quietly for Yuri to make the next move.

"Whatever happens..." The young athleted started, "Don't let me hold you back."

"Eh?" Victor quirked a brow in confusion, "...Hold me back?"

"You said you were worried about making a full comeback.  If it's..."  Yuri bowed his head low, turning only enough to see his idol's elbow in the blankets, "If it's because of me...don't feel obligated to stay on as my coach.  You sh-"

"Yuri."

He went quiet, a little embarrassed by his words.

"I know.  You're going to say that I should do what's best for me..." Victor started, bringing his left hand up a little bit to stroke the skater's back gently, "But that might not always be what's best for my skating.  I have to really think about what's going to happen...  I'm turning 28 before the month is out; by figure skating standards, I'm a fossil.  Staying on with you for one more year...that might be all I can manage."

The words made Yuri's heart pound in his chest.

"But you've thrown me a life-line." The Russian went on, drawing Yuri's attention back again, "You told me at Fukuoka Airport that you wanted me to be yours until you retire...and then after the medaling ceremony, you agreed to win five World Championships...  That means I'll be able to stay in figure skating for another four seasons after this.  If it's as your coach...or as your competition...the one thing I know for sure is that I'll be there because I'm with you."  He said reassuringly, and leaned close to kiss the figure's shoulder – clothed as it sadly was.  He held for a moment, and twisted to sit up again, reaching back to pat the back of Yuri's leg, "Come shower with me.  It's more cramped than the wash-room at Yu-Topia, but I'll do your hair again.  Okay~?"

.

The hall leading to the Banquet was bright, just like Yuri's vague, beer-goggled memories of Sochi.  Victor had snickered a few times as he'd gone through the photos again while they walked, each time offering to let Yuri see, and each time being turned down.  Victor had honestly felt a little déjà vu at the constant rejection, but vowed that he wouldn't go to bed with tears in his eyes that time.  Makkachin wasn't there to console him anyway.  He huffed to himself and put his phone away in defeat, but slipped his arm over his athlete's shoulders as they approached the party.  He felt a little better about the whole thing though when he noted Yuri's arm coming up behind his back in return, a hand settling gently over the crest of his hip.  The longer he felt it there, the more he found himself smiling.

The pair strode into the Banquet Hall through massive wooden double-doors, and those within seemed to go a little bit quieter at the sight of them.  The pause soon changed to clapping, and within a few seconds, practically everyone in attendance was adulating the pair's arrival. 

Victor beamed under all the attention, and squeezed his student's shoulders where he held them, laughing happily as he brought his free hand back up out of his pocket to wave graciously.  His pride as the coach of a medalist was withered only as those gathered decided to focus their attention on a certain rumor they'd heard, rather than on the star skater he'd taken time off to train.

"Victor!" Someone had called out, "Are you really going to skate at Russian Nationals!?  That's only two weeks from now!!"

"It's true!?  You're coming out of retirement!?"

"Does that mean you're going to stop coaching!?"

"Victor!  Victor!?  Victor!”

Chris' eyes peeked up where he'd been standing in the crowd, a champagne glass already perched in one hand, Are you coming back?  The blonde thought, slowly turning the flute in a circle, I've heard the rumors, too, but it seems a tad ambitious to say you can do so in time for Nationals, even for you, Victor.

The Russian's name, and various other comments, echoed throughout the room.  Yuri could feel the man's fingers tighten a little around the edge of one shoulder, and he looked up nervously.  To his surprise, Victor actually looked a little annoyed; eyebrows twitching despite his desperate attempt at keeping that smile genuine.  But, true to Nikiforov-style, Victor quickly turned his sour-tinted expression to one of jovial excitement.  He stepped forward only long enough to quiet the inquisition and return attention to where he thought it should've been all along, "Yuri skated a perfect redemption-program today, especially with the flawless Quad Flip at the end!" He explained, pulling attention entirely off the rumors, and back onto what really mattered to him, "And I hope he continues improving for Japanese Nationals, and Four Continents after that.  By the time the World Championships come up again in March, Yuri will have a lot of competition!  Wish him the best of luck!  He'll need it!"

"So you ARE coming back!" The crowd erupted, much to Victor's chagrin.

"Victor..." Yuri whispered, speaking in such a hushed voice that he could barely hear himself.  Not knowing what to say or do, he softly rubbed his thumb back and forth against his coach's back, trying to soothe the man's nerves as well as he could.

"So, he's decided to keep skating then after all." Yurio's voice came from the background, rising above the clamor of the rest of the crowd, "How does it feel, Victor?  The only Gold you're going home with is the meaningless band on your finger, just like I told you.  Looks like it was fool's gold all along, just like its owner."

Yuri could hardly believe the words, but hearing them from the Russian Punk, it almost didn't surprise him either.  He practically hid in Victor's shadow, not wanting to be part of the confrontation, even if it was about him.

The crowd parted, and several coaches and skaters alike commented on the offensive language.

Yurio's Gold medal hung proudly around his neck, and Yakov whisper-growled some choice words to the teen, but they went unheeded.  Even Lilia went mostly ignored, though Yurio's eyes did twitch slightly to hear her voice.

Victor breathed in a quiet sigh, and pulled free of Yuri's shoulder, stepping forward and facing the teen squarely.  He brought his right hand forward, and pressed a choice finger hard against the medal dangling in front of the blonde's chest; he stared intently, but spoke softly, "There's more gold in this band than there is on your prize.  It's 100% pure gold, just like the man who got it for me."  Slate eyes focused on emerald, each of them unblinking, "If it bothers you so much that I have it, then try to steal gold from me at the next competition.  You still have a long way to go before you're Russia's Champion, Yurio."

Hearing the nickname set the teen's teeth on edge, but he challenged the finger-poke against his chest with a jab of his own, and got right up into his counterpart's face, "Tell Katsudon that I'm glad he isn't quitting.  I'll crush him, over and over again, until the day he finally gives up and retires for good.  Maybe by then you'll regret putting your faith into the wrong Yuri."

"That's enough." Yakov finally said, pushing the two skaters away from each other to defuse the situation, "Yuri, he's your rinkmate again, show some respect." He scolded, then turned then back to his reinstated-student, "When are you coming home then, Vitya?"

The room finally went back to its previous tempo, calmed after the bustle of the conflict. 

"Aha~!" Victor laughed meekly, trying not to let the Russian Punk get under his skin, "Pretty soon, probably."

The conversation seemed to go on as though it were the most obvious thing, but to Yuri, still standing a bit in the background, it was a hard pill to swallow.  He gave a nervous look as his eyes went to the floor.

Despite all the time he spent with me in Hasetsu, the plan all along was that he'd move back home after the Final.  He still talks about it like nothing has changed.  ...How can he keep being my coach if he leaves though?  How can he talk about leaving at all after how upset he got on Friday when I said we should end things...?  What's he thinking...?  He's so impulsive.  He probably has no plan at all.  Stupid Victor...

Chris stepped up with Phichit just as Yuri turned his back to go towards the banquet display, leaving both skaters with their mouths half-open in planned-but-cut-off conversation, having no idea they'd even been there.  They blinked at him quietly as he went off, seeing curiously as he held his head low.  Chris just rubbed his chin, "Despite winning Silver this time, he still has that look on his face like last year.  I wonder if this'll turn into another Strip Tease?"

Phichit wasn't sure what to think of it, "Maybe we should stop him if he plans to drink.  Him and alcohol are not good depression-friends."

"Sure they are.  He's a happy drunk." The blonde shrugged, holding up his flute of bubbly, "Maybe it'll lighten his mood."

Looking a bit nervous at the idea, Phichit shook his head, "Drunk Yuri always regrets what he does though once he's sober again."

"Not if he forgets again, too." Chris put his free hand on his hip and sipped the drink a little, casting his eyes aside to spot his rival, "I still can't believe they went that whole year and the Sochi banquet never came up.  Victor really spent that whole time in Japan thinking Yuri knew all about what happened." He laughed quietly to himself, "It's no wonder he chose to choreograph a super-sexy program after that.  He got a taste of Yuri's sweet Eros and couldn't help but ask for more."

The younger skater just gave him a look, watching where Chris had a hand up against his cheek while he daydreamed, "I can only wonder what horrible things you're imagining right now."

"Yuri's special training.  One more minute and I think I might cum again..." He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes to 'watch' the show in his mind, and lightly bit down on his lower lip.

"Youcandothatjuststandingthere!?" Phichit balked in an exasperated whisper.

"Yuri!" Victor's voice suddenly called out.  The Russian had turned from the conversation with his coach and realized his own student was missing, lost somewhere in the crowd.

The ominously-absent skater had slinked off to where the food was on display at the far end of the room.  He saw a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, and a dozen or more glasses already full in front of it.  His hazy recollection of the previous year started with champagne, and he didn't want to forget again, so he snubbed his nose at the alcohol and turned it instead to the carefully-arranged hors d'oeuvres on a different table nearby.  Before he'd even managed to put a single piece of prosciutto-wrapped cheese in his mouth though, Victor had wrapped both arms around his waist from behind, and rubbed a cheek against the side of his neck.

"Yuri!  Found you~!" 

The morsel fell from Yuri’s hand, but his cheeks flushed and he forgot all about it.  Just as quickly as he'd calmed from the surprise of having someone clinging to him unexpectedly though, Yuri's mind went back to the whole reason he'd moved off on his own in the first place.

"It's going to be so weird to train under Yakov again after spending so much time in Japan." The Russian was saying, heedless to his student's apprehension, "Reverting back to an athlete after being a coach for so long will be exciting!"

"Yeah..." Yuri mumbled, fingering for another hors d'oeuvre to replace the one he'd lost.  He half bit-down on it, not quite focused enough to eat the thing even though he meant to.  It was enough to taste the salty flavor, and everything else faded away.

Victor blinked at the lackluster response, and pulled off the man's back to turn him around.  It was only then that he saw the anxious - even scared - look on Yuri's face, those brown eyes cast down towards his tie rather than up into his eyes like he wanted.  A gentle hand went under the skater's jaw, pressing the tips of two fingers to the underside of Yuri's chin, and lightly pushed the man's gaze up.

Hazel irises resisted the move, but Yuri couldn't help it, and reluctantly looked to his coach's face.  His brow furrowed as nerves coiled in his stomach, but he said nothing; he kept on biting down on that prosciutto-wrapped cheese, using it as an excuse to stay silent a little while longer so he wouldn't have to voice his worries out loud.

"Why do you look so afraid all of a sudden?" Victor wondered, snaking his hands forward to rest them on Yuri's waist, "Is it because of what Yurio said?  Don't worry about him.  He's always been vulgar like that.  It might even get worse once you've beaten him for Gold at Worlds.  You should look forward to it more."

Yuri still had no answer.  Worlds was months away.  Victor returning - leaving - to St. Petersburg was around the corner.

Victor was perplexed, staring down on his silent companion.  For lack of knowing how else to make the man speak, he leaned forward with parted lips, and gently bit down on the end of Yuri's snack.  Though Victor had closed his eyes, he could feel Yuri's stunned gaze, and all but kissed the man right there.  The tips of their noses lightly brushed together as Victor held still there for a while, but eventually bit off his half of the snack before pulling away again.

Yuri blinked in embarrassed amazement, watching in continued silence as his coach finished the piece off.  Reluctantly, he finished his own half as well, sighing and setting his forehead to the Russian's collarbone.

"What's wrong?" Victor asked again, feeling the younger man's arms come up around his sides, hands clinging to the back of his suit-coat, "Yuri...?"

"You're moving back to St. Petersburg." He finally said, doing everything he could to avoid letting his voice crack from the pain rising in his throat.

"Of course." The silver answered; it was as evident as anything, but Yuri's response to it was mysterious as ever, "Aren't you excited?"

"Why would I be?  You're leaving."

"Oh!  I'm not leaving without you." Victor clarified, "We're moving to St. Petersburg.  Together.  Wasn’t that obvious?"

Yuri pulled his head up, shocked, "...But...what?  ...Really?"

"Yeah.  I could’ve sworn that…oh, never mind." Victor laughed as he offered a confused smile, "It wouldn't be the first time you've trained abroad, I mean.  Did you really think I was going to leave you behind?  How was I going to coach you?  Through FaceTime at 4 in the morning?"  He chuckled nervously, perplexed at the whole thing, reaching both arms around those trembling shoulders, and rubbed his cheek against the man's ear, "Yuri..."

"Well...I didn't...want to just assume..." He stammered, though his cheeks flushed all the same, ...Me...moving to St. Petersburg!?  He thought in a panic, Living with Victor in his own home!?  It'll be so different from Yu-Topia...there was always a whole resort between us, and a dozen or more people.  In Russia, we'll be alone...  He drew in a nervous breath, feeling the euphoria of that unexpected realization.  He anxiously clung a little closer, eyes wide.

Victor seemed to enjoy it, and whispered quietly, "I know that we'd planned on me leaving after the Final, but we've exchanged rings now, Yuri." He started, speaking the words against the skin of that bare neck, "Plans will have to change.  Having you follow me home is just the natural choice.  Unless you don't want to come for some reason?"

"...Unless I don't!?" Yuri echoed in horror.  He craned his head back to look at his coach squarely, "I...  How could I refuse!?"

Victor offered a smile, calm and reassuring as he'd always been, "So you'll come?"

"Of course I'll come!"

"That's just what I like to hear." He mused, leaning in a little closer.

Chris chuckled into his champagne glass and elbowed the stunned figure next to him, "We won't have to imagine it for much longer, the way they're going.  We both just heard Yuri say he’s coming."

Phichit had to fan himself with one hand as the other was up and clicking away on his phone, camera shutter noises resounding with every thumb-tap, "Yuri, you know not what you're doing..."

Yurio blustered quietly to himself, watching the spectacle from further away, "Someone should pull the fire alarm.  The way they are now, it could get gross if no one stops them."

Mila put a finger on her chin as she looked at the pair, "So their matching rings..." She wondered, the thought lingering for half a second longer.  She saw how precariously close the two had gotten, and how flushed Yuri's face had grown.  She pointed at the both of them and utterly ruined everything by yelling her realization out loud, "Those rings aren't good luck charms AT ALL!  You guys are ENGAGED!"

Yurio, Otabek, Yakov, and half the people in the immediate vicinity, all turned to gawk at the red-head, but only the Russian Punk spoke, "Jesus, Mila...wasn't it obvious?  Victor even said they'd get married if Katsudon won Gold."  He turned his head slightly and muttered the rest under his breath, "Which he didn't...so they won't."

"When did he say that!?" She turned to him and grabbed his shoulders adamantly, leaving the spoken-of pair in confusion.

"O-On Thursday!" He answered frantically, though something clicked in his head and he deadpanned the woman instead, "Oh right, you weren't there."

Mila suddenly hefted the hapless Gold medalist over her head, and started marching around the room with him in spite of his flailing and protests, "I can't believe this!  Why didn't anyone say anything!?  This is going to be huge news back home!"

"PUT ME DOWN, BABA!"

Otabek and the Russians just watched quietly, eyes following the teen as he passed by them in the air, "Is that normal?" He asked.

"Unfortunately." Yakov answered glibly.

Victor sighed and turned back, the moment lost, seeing the modest and hopeful expression returning to Yuri's face.  Realizing there was no chance to go for it again, he reached instead behind Yuri's back and lifted two champagne flutes from the table, looking over to Chris and Phichit as though in invitation to come closer.  The pair did as suggested as Victor handed the second flute to Yuri, and then held up his own into the center between them all, "A toast, then.  To Yuri's Silver medal, to my officially announcing that I'm coming back to competition, to the move to St. Petersburg...and all the fun and challenges of the season yet to come."

"Here here." Chris agreed, holding his own glass up as well, "Also, to kicking Victor's butt right and proper."

"You wish."

"To Four Continents for Yuri and I, and then, to Worlds!" Phichit added.

"To Worlds." They all agreed, clinking their glasses together.

The Banquet went off without a hitch after that; photos were taken of the various groups, cakes were cut, gifts given from the ISU to the various winners.  Yuri made sure never to have more than that first glass of champagne, wanting on pain of death to remember the night.  Victor had gotten plenty toasted though, ending up in a rather brief - if comparatively mild - dance battle with Chris.  Event staffers quickly mobilized and pulled the two apart before more than just their shoes and jackets had come off, though many commented on how 'those two never change,' leaving Yuri flustered and wondering what had happened in Sochi that he still didn't know about.

The opportunity seemed to present itself at that point though.  While Yuri was trying to get the Russian's jacket buttoned up again, despite Victor's overtly affectionate drunken antics making it difficult, Mila came up behind him.  She put her hand softly on Yuri's shoulder, getting his attention just long enough to turn his head back and feel his coach come slithering up all over him again, "V-Victor!" He protested.

"If they won't let me dance with Chris then you should dance with me!" Victor called out with a slur, "It'll be just like last year, except this time I'm drunk!  It'll be fun!  We can do that bull-fighting thing again!"

The red-head laughed, sighed, and shook her head, reaching forward to help untangle her rink-mate's arms from around his helpless victim's smaller frame.  She managed to get hold of Victor's wrists and pulled them up, giving Yuri a chance to escape, though the Russian continued to play grabby-hands in his direction even as he moved away.

"Yuuurrriiii~!  Yuuurriiii~!" The silver genius whined.

The younger skater huffed a nervous laugh, but then turned his completely-sober self towards the lady who'd plucked him out of the situation, "Sorry about that..." He held his hands together in front of his head as he bowed it in apology, "Did you need something?"

"Just him." She answered, maneuvering the hazy Nikiforov towards a nearby chair until she could dump him into it, "Can I have a word alone?"

Yuri blinked at her, "I don't know that much of it will stick..."

"Victor is Russian.  He can drink all night without blacking out.  This is just champagne." She explained politely, "It'll only be a minute."

"Oh...  Okay." Yuri nodded anxiously, reaching up to adjust his glasses before stepping away, but glanced back over his shoulder as he moved off.  His only relief from the growing swarm of nervous butterflies in his stomach was hearing Phichit calling his name out to distract him.

Mila smiled and waved, waiting until he was out of earshot before turning back to Victor and giving him his wrists back, as well as giving him a strange look.

"What a scary face." The silver quipped, slouching where he sat.

"Victor...what you're doing is reckless."

"You just said yourself that it's only champagne." He defended, "I've had harder liquor before without problems.  I drank all night in Hasetsu a bunch of times!"

"I'm not talking about the drinking, stupid." Mila corrected, "This thing you have with Katsuki...it won't be welcomed in Russia."

"Russia's opinion doesn't matter." He said simply, shrugging in his drunken haze and still looking quite merry, "The fans at Rostelecom didn't seem to mind when Yuri showed them his love."  He leaned in close to whisper behind his hand, "He asked me later if I thought Russia would be mad at him for taking me off the ice...and when I told him 'no, they'd be jealous,' he got excited, like he was so proud of himself.  It was so adorable."

"They didn't mind you guys because they're fans.  Not everyone in the Motherland is so understanding.  This is dangerous." Mila clarified pensively, "You could get hurt.  He could get hurt.  Don't you know what's happening back home?  If people find out that you, Russia's Hero, are engaged to another man-"

"I can protect us." He cut her off, speaking with a bit more mental clarity than before.

"Victor..." Mila argued, quieter than before, but also more worried than before, "There's videos online...a number of people have declared an open hunting season on same-sex couples or those seeking such relationships.  They post fake ads on match-making sites and lure single men to hotel rooms, and beat them half to death for fun-"

"How could they bait me like that?  I'm not a single man anymore," He interrupted, holding up his ringed hand for a moment before setting it back down on his leg, "...And I'm not going to let anything happen to either of us."

"You're not taking this seriously at all!  They're beating people up in the streets, like it's a game!" She whisper-yelled, taking Victor's arm with one hand, "With you being such a high-profile character at home, you could be walking into a death trap as soon as you get off the plane.  Too many people will see your relationship with Katsuki as something that needs to be erased.  You'll both be torn apart, if not by the media, then literally...  I can't watch that happen.  Promise me that you'll keep all this on the down-low while in Russia.  I don't want to find out that you won't make your return after all, because some gang on motorcycles broke both of your legs."

Victor could see the terror in her eyes as she spoke those words of warning, and he took her more seriously than before, feeling himself sobering up unwillingly.  Quietly, he nodded, and laid the woman's concerns to slighter ease, "I understand."

Mila wasn't sure about it, but at least she'd seen the man accept her caution rather than brush her off.  She nodded and reluctantly let go, and the two parted ways again, leaving Victor to sit quietly in his own head for a little while.  His eyes looked down at the floor as he crossed his arms, his rink-mate's words rattling around in his mind like echoes off a canyon wall.  Something seemed to stir under all of those thoughts, and his left eye twitched slightly under his bangs, but just as soon as he felt it, he shook his head and rose to stand again.  He scanned the room for his athlete, and started walking over to where he saw Yuri standing with Phichit and Chris.

Yuri saw him coming, and noticed the sour look on his face, like he'd been kicked in the gut, "Victor?  You okay?" He wondered quietly, reaching an arm out to put his hand against the Russian's lower back as he neared.

Victor nodded quietly, trying his best to put on a smile again, but it was just a façade and Yuri knew him better than that.  Chris and Phichit could tell that something was off as well, but no one dared broach the subject.  Instead, they focused on Yuri, as Victor had previously requested, and let the former Champion be with his thoughts until he was ready to return to the party.  He just quietly slipped his arms around the younger skater's smaller frame and held there quietly until the night ended.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO

As the end of the night drew closer, sleepy skaters and coaches started taking their leave.

Victor had never quite come out of his cerebral silence. He hadn't let go of Yuri either though. He just listened quietly to people saying their goodbyes all around him, trying his best to acknowledge those who'd waved or spoken to him, but not really feeling like it mattered anymore. What Mila had told him was sobering and unwelcome, but deep down, he knew it was true, and it gnawed at him terribly.

"Please come to Bangkok one of these days, Yuri!" Phichit asked, "I don't want to have to wait until Four Continents to see you again."

"I'll try. Victor can be a bit of a slave-driver." He joked, his tone slightly subdued given how his coach continued to cling on him, "He won't wait around and let me get fluffy on katsudon before then."

The two clapped hands in farewell, and Phichit vanished like the rest, meeting with Celestino along the way and heading back to the hotel. Chris winked in his characteristically sultry way, bidding his own farewells and poking at his long-time rival in an attempt to get the man's attention.

Victor glanced up briefly, and he managed a smile, but there was a sadness to it that he couldn't shake. For a brief moment though, he let go of Yuri so Chris could get a hug in, and felt the man pat his shoulder reassuringly. Chris whispered something into his ear, and the Russian nodded quietly, but said nothing in response.  The blonde turned his attention then to the youngest amongst them, and reached over to give Yuri a farewell hug as well, using the opportunity to slide a hand down and playfully grab the skater's backside. Yuri squeaked and pulled his hands back, rubbing the spot after Chris let go, being chased off by Victor.

"Careful, there! That butt's engaged now!" The silver defended, though with a tease in his voice, "And I claim exclusive rights to it!"

"Oh, sweet Victor..." Chris pouted comically, "I'll always find a way."

Yuri waved nervously with his free hand, still feeling his heart pounding in his ches- THWUMP!! There was a boot against his back, and he went flying forward in a tumble. When he landed, the butt that Chris has just groped was sticking up in the air, and his glasses were disheveled on his face, eyes swirling.

"Victor," Yurio's voice boomed defiantly, "If you really plan on being at Nationals then you shouldn't piss around in Japan for very long."

"I don't expect to be there for very long." Victor answered dryly, moving over to help pull Yuri up from the floor, "When are Japanese Nationals anyway?"

"...They'reintwoweeksjustlikeyours..." The dazed skater answered nervously, "We didn't sign me up because I thought I'd be done after the Final...remember?"

The Russian blinked at him, "Sure I do."

Yuri gaped at him, but suddenly it all made sense.

He forgot again ! No wonder he was so eager to say he was going to his own! He's never had to think about how Russia and Japan always hold their National Championships at the same time !

"Then which one are you going to?" Yurio demanded.

"You know as well as anyone that spots for later competitions are given out at Nationals, Vitya." Yakov added, "But you can't coach at one and compete at another at the same time. Katsuki is going to have to go without you."

"...Without...?" Yuri repeated, still sitting on the floor where Victor had flipped him over. He turned his gaze to the aforementioned Russian skater, looking for some sign of an answer.

"...Then I can't." The man said simply, rising to his feet before he helped Yuri up with him, casting slate eyes over to his own coach, "Maybe it's for the best. Two weeks isn't that long at all...I wouldn't really have time to get my shows and costumes together." He rationalized, even as basically everyone who could’ve said as much was muttering ‘that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time,’ much to Yurio's annoyance, "Euros then." The silver offered, holding a finger up.

Yakov shook his head, "There are only three slots for Euros, and all three are taken by people going to Nationals. I can't cut one of them to let you go if you're not going to Nationals."

Victor just stared in annoyed silence, I'm the one who got us those three slots though...  If it was anyone else, we’d have only gotten one.

The back and forth was stressful to watch, and Yuri saw no alternative, "Victor, you should g-"

"No." The Russian cut him off and shook his head defiantly, then turned back to look into those hazel eyes, "What's the point of saying I'm your coach if I'm not there for you at competition? I'll just wait and go to Worlds. It's last year's scores that count the most for spot selection, so the RSF would be crazy not to send me, Nationals be damned."

"You're really just going to give up your spots because of that pig?" Yurio wondered, incredulous, "It might be your last year, old man. Why are you throwing it away like this?"

"I'm turning 28, not 60." Victor smiled bitterly, "But for now, I'm still a coach first, and a competitor second. Yakov is right...I can't just announce my return and then expect to get everything handed to me because I'm a five-time consecutive World Champion with multiple world records or anything; that would be silly." He said, a slight taunt in his voice as he eyeballed the Russian Punk, "Better make the most of this opportunity, and get as many Gold medals as you can before I take them all for myself again."

"Try not to switch teams while you're loitering in Hasetsu, Vitya." Yakov grumbled, shrugging as he and his ex-wife strode past, "We'll see you when you're back home then." He said with finality, leading the small group towards the doors. Mila looked back quietly as they stepped away.

"We won't be long." Victor waved at them as they vanished, and soon thereafter, turned back to dust Yuri's shoulders off, "You need to learn to stand your ground against Yurio. He'll kick you off a pier one of these days if you aren't careful, and the waters of Russia are unforgiving.  They're much further north than any here in Barcelona or back in Hasetsu."

Yuri adjusted his glasses, hesitating a moment as he thought on the discussion about Nationals a while longer. He shook his head though, letting it go for the time being, "Yurio's so strange." He commented, "One minute, he's kicking me, then in the next, he's giving me pork-cutlet pirozhki that his own grandfather made...then he's back to kicking me."

"He's like that. You'll get used to him in St. Petersburg." Victor explained, "But again, stand your ground, even if he catches you off guard. He won't take you seriously otherwise."

Yuri noticed that Victor's eyes had returned to their mostly-normal affect, and he was glad for it. The entire previous conversation seemed to slip right out of his mind as he felt the Russian's hand sliding around the back of his arm, seeking for his own hand. Feeling a moment of bravery, Yuri helped the process along, splaying his fingers to let Victor’s find their places between them.

When their hands locked, Victor glanced over at him, seeing Yuri's cheeks going pink right before his eyes, and all the prior anxiety in his heart melted away.  He learned forward to give a fond kiss to the younger man's forehead, and gestured his free hand towards the exit.

It didn't take long for them to get back to their hotel room; Yuri was ready to just flop on his face again and pass out without even changing. He could already hear the lecture about taking care of his suit though, so he made sure to change into his night-ware, the usual t-shirt and shorts, before doing so.  Still, once he was changed, he took off his glasses and flopped face first on top of the bed nearest the window. It was only seconds before he was on the edge of sleep, despite the lights, only to be roused again by the sound of Victor climbing into the other bed right next to him. Quietly, Yuri turned from his right side to his left, and watched as the Russian tried to get comfortable, lying on his back and staring straight at the ceiling.  There was a slight, palpable distance there; feeling like Victor was miles away even though the man was right in front of him.  Without his glasses, it was impossible to see if, maybe, there might've been a bug or something that the man was so fixated on. Up close though, Yuri could tell there was a nervous look on the silver’s face. He wasn't sure how or whether to ask what was on the man's mind though, since it could've been any number of things from just the Banquet alone, so he did the only thing he could think of...he reached across the cleft between their mattresses, where blankets and sheets were pinched between their beds, and nervously took hold of the hand nearest to him, pulling it closer and settling it over the gap.

Azure eyes turned towards him, and Victor seemed to take some solace in the gesture, "Sorry."

"Why?"

Victor turned onto his side as well to face the conversation, and let his head fall back down onto the pillow, silver hair flopping down all over the white fabric, "I made all these grand gestures about timing my come-back with Russian Nationals...but for some reason, it never occurred to me to wonder about the timing of yours.  I just…stupidly assumed they’d be different dates.  What are the odds, right?"

"You were excited." Yuri excused, "It's not your fault.  I mean, of all the countries that could've done it this way, it had to be ours, just to spite us, right?"

"I should've known though. ...Rather, I should've remembered." The Russian lifted his head again, propping himself up onto the side of his shoulder as he looked at where their hands were clasped together, bridging the gap between their two twin beds.

"I could've made it easier by saying I'd go to mine a lot sooner than now." Yuri offered, "I'll bet the JSF will be annoyed enough to see my ultra-late, last-second entry."

"How can they say no to their best skater?"

"The same way Yakov did to Russia's earlier."

"Well..." Victor shrugged a bit, moving to slide his free left hand nearer to clasp over top of where Yuri held to the right, "It's done. If they let me go to Worlds, then that'll be my first and only competition this year. If not, then I'll just have to do everything next year instead. Georgi can rest easy knowing that I won't just throw him off the Euros team even though everyone knows I score better than he does..." Victor lamented, "It's fine though, really. Like you said...I got excited."

"...Can I do anything? If not for me..."

The Russian's cool eyes peered over, and he huffed a smile, "Yuri, I chose to abandon Nationals...it's not your fault."

"...I'm already starting to cause conflict with your competitive side. Even if you freely decided to do this, you wouldn't have had to do it at all if I didn't have to go to my own Nationals. I was worried this would ha-"

"I'm the one that said you should go for five World Championships." Victor mused, cutting off that line of thought with a well-placed fingertip over trembling lips, "Let me accept responsibility for myself. I chose to come be your coach, I chose to take time off from competition...and I'm choosing to be by your side at Japanese Nationals. I'll go to mine next year."

Yuri wasn't sure how to contest it anymore, so he nodded quietly as the finger withdrew from his lips, feeling the warmth of the man's hands around his. He drew in a breath and twisted away, reaching far to click the light off on his side of the room before returning to where he'd been before. Victor did the same on his side, and the space plunged into darkness soon after. There was quiet for a while, though they hadn't let go...and as their eyes adjusted to the dark, they realized they were still looking towards one another.

We're moving in together... Yuri thought to himself again, I'm going to St. Petersburg to be with Victor...

"It's a house, by the way." The Russian said, as though he could read the young skater's mind, "It's a small one...and I took over the second bedroom for my skating stuff, but it's still nice. All modern."

"...Then it seems like you'll finally get what you wanted since the beginning." Yuri commented, finding himself oddly relaxed with what was coming.

"...That's a long list." Victor purred, "You'll have to be more specific."

"You said right from the start that we should sleep together."

"We are. We have been...at least, as far as I meant it back then." Victor explained, watching quietly as the younger figure pushed up to sitting, and then withdrew his hand from the space above the gap, "Hard to avoid me when we share hotel rooms together at events."

Seeing the golden glint on Victor's ring-finger, Yuri drew in a breath, and resigned to his choice. The butterflies in his stomach started to flutter again, but for once, they were buzzing around in excitement and hesitant wanting, rather than because he was purely scared. All those 'near misses' floated through his mind; the unexpected kiss in China, the rink-side flirting in Moscow, and how close they'd become in the intervening weeks.  He swallowed, and reached for where the blankets and sheets of their individual beds were still clamped between the two twin frames. He tugged them upward, and laid them down to weave them together, setting the thin flat-sheet from his side down over the Russian's, then brought the second flat-sheet to lay across his own, doing the same with the thick fleece comforter that came next, and then finally with the thick blankets on top. When he was done, it looked like they were sharing a single King-size bed, but with ill-fitting covers. The butterflies were flitting around like wild horses in Yuri's stomach, but he saw where Victor had just quietly been watching him, and leaned down to his elbow again. Pulling the inter-folded sheets up to make room, Yuri crossed the tiny mattress-gap, and then rolled over onto his right side, putting his back towards the older skater's chest.

Victor blinked at him curiously. For once, he was nervous as well. He slowly nestled in against the curve of the younger man's body, deftly sliding his left arm over Yuri's side, curling it up to put his hand against the younger man's chest. He could feel that heart pounding thunderously even through the fabric of his t-shirt. For lack of being able to think of anything to say, Victor wedged his right arm under Yuri's waist as well as he could, and dared to pull him closer against his chest.

"There." Yuri said finally, curling his left arm so he could thread their fingers together where Victor's still pawed at his heart, "...See?"

"I do." Victor answered, trying not to sound over-excited.  He nuzzled in closer and looked on adoringly, his heart soaring, "This is even better than what I meant back then."

Yuri's face was red, but it was impossible to see in the dark. He could feel his whole frame shaking, and he didn't doubt that Victor could feel it, too. Still though, like had been the case since 'Hot-Springs on Ice,' when he first felt his idol's arms around him, he felt secure and safe. The trembling gradually faded, and the feeling of the man's warm breath against his neck - and the slow stroke of a thumb against his chest - helped him to relax.  He found himself melting into it.

"Are you worried?" Victor asked suddenly.

"...Worried?" Yuri echoed in confusion, turning his head a little, "...Well, I mean...I don't think this is quite what you meant when you said we should do stuff that would excite you, but..."

"Oh, I'm excited." The silver purred, his tone entirely different at that point, making his partner's face even redder than before. Though Victor couldn't really see it, he could feel it in the way Yuri's entire frame tensed up, and he laughed quietly against the back of one shoulder, "Relax. I won't do anything. Not tonight, anyway. ...Back to my question though; I meant, are you worried about moving to St. Petersburg?"

"...Oh." Yuri blanched, trying to organize his thoughts again. He twisted slightly, rolling onto his back in the Russian's arms, and turned his head. The hand that went under him pulled back to nestle under the curve of his back, and he felt fingers curling around his waist, holding gently as the hand on his chest continued the slow thumb-stroke, "...Well, it'll be weird training at the same rink as Yurio...it'll be easier to see what tricks he's planning, and he'll be able to see mine, too. Then, you'll be practicing, too...for your own programs, not just helping to refine mine... I'll get to see the creation of something new with my own eyes."

They were all valid points, but they were all miles away from what Victor had meant.

Still, that was an answer in itself.

"...I guess I'm mostly just worried about how things will change between us." Yuri admitted anxiously, "The scenery, the skating rink...the fact that we'll be on our own, rather than in the resort with my family."

Victor looked on him for a moment, but then smiled and settled in closer, resting his chin on the shoulder closest to him, "All good changes. I can't wait."

"You're that excited to go back to Russia...?"

"Only because I get to take you with me." He answered, bringing the hand up from Yuri's chest to settle it on the side of his jaw, tilting his face closer and leaning forward to give him the faintest of Eskimo kisses, "Home is where your heart rests.  If you weren't coming, St. Petersburg wouldn't feel right."

The butterflies were back in full force at that point, but Yuri couldn't help smiling to hear the words. He twisted again slightly where he lay, facing the man evenly, and nuzzled in closer so he could get his head just under the Russian's chin. He kept his left arm folded against his chest, but slowly, nervously slid the right over his idol's side, letting his elbow curve around it. He felt that larger body settling in as well, both arms around him to hold him against that pale, bare chest. What surprised Yuri though was feeling where Victor had wedged a leg between his, practically hooking onto one to pull it forward between his own.

"All good changes." Victor purred again, rubbing his cheek affectionately across spikes of soft raven hair, "I think you're going to like it."

.

Their flight back to Japan was peaceful.  Being an earlier flight, Yuri had no interest in sleeping again to pass the time.  He even unbundled from his winter garb to get comfortable...and closer.  With nothing to do for hours at a time except try to entertain themselves, finding things to do or talk about was somehow far more interesting than it had been. 

Watching the in-flight movies, they leaned against one another over the seat-divider, and held softly to one another's hands.  Fingers slid deftly past each other, slowly, savoring every moment of velvet-warm touch.  Every so often, Victor would lift their hands up between them and press those fingers to his cheek, or kiss the ring on Yuri's finger.  In one particular moment though, Victor kept his lips softly on that ring for a longer while than he had before.  In nervous exhilaration, Yuri approached their clasped hands from his own side, and slowly neared to mimic the move on his idol in turn. 

Victor half-opened his eyes when he felt it, seeing those cherry-hazel orbits looking back at him from so near.  They both looked up at one another, locked into each other's gazes for what felt like an eternity, all the while, lips pressed gently to the backs of each other's hands.  For half a heartbeat, when they lifted up, Victor was certain Yuri would finally come to him...but at the last moment, got cold feet and retreated into his seat, looking away with his skin nearly glowing red.  Victor could feel the tremble, and though somewhat disappointed, he smiled anyway.

He’s trying, and getting closer every time.

.

After a layover in Tokyo and another quick flight to Fukuoka, the end of their Grand Prix journey was almost in sight.  JSF reporters and fans were waiting in a huge crowd to see the two athletes return from abroad.   They both looked down to the public waiting area from the upper level of the airport Arrivals deck, and though nervous, Yuri gathered the courage to wave.  The throng of people cheered, and he showed them his shiny new Silver medal, lifting it up high before they finally came down to meet the gathered.  Yuri answered a few questions, confirmed Victor's return to skating - and their plans to move to Russia - and after a thousand or so photos, they were allowed to head towards the trains for that last leg to Hasetsu.

Arriving back home felt strange after being in Barcelona.  With the revelations of the Sochi Banquet still fresh in Yuri's mind, not to mention the fact that he hadn't once let go of Victor's hand since they'd clasped them together on the plane...the air just felt different.  Stepping off the train and onto the deck of the station, Yuri's fingers clutched a little tighter.  He could feel the pressure returned, and he glanced up to that smiling face that had come back with him.

"There's nothing quite like coming home a victor." The Russian mused.

"Coming home a victor or with one?" Yuri asked back.

"Yes."

That brought an amused smile to Yuri's face, and he started to head for the escalators that lead down into the main part of the terminal.  He could hear the crowd at the bottom long before he saw them, but it didn't change his awe when his eyes beheld the sea of people waiting for them.  Though, in its own way, just as Yuri had expected - and half-feared - Minako and the triplets were waiting with half the town to congratulate their local champion. There were dozens of signs with Yuri's name on them, and even though not many expected Victor to return so soon, if at all, there were a few signs for him as well.

It made Victor happy that there was a place in the figure-skating fandom that appreciated his pupil the same way he did. He'd worked hard to get Yuri back up from the crushing defeat at Sochi, and at least in Hasetsu, people recognized it.  But that made the competitor in him itch. The posters that had been on the walls when he'd first arrived were still there, some covered only by newer posters advertising the 'Hot Springs on Ice' event. So much about being there made him want to get back on the ice as fast as he could, but he knew he'd have to wait. Still, the anticipation of what would come next was ever-present, and his artist's brain simply couldn't sit still.

For once, Yuri was happy to be home. He'd spotted his family in the parking lot as they came outside the train station, and realized that they'd had to shut down the resort just to be there. His eyes welled up with tears, and as he moved closer to get to them, he couldn't help but drag Victor behind him, still holding to that hand. 

Victor shuffled along with pride though, simply happy that Yuri wouldn't let him go, even to make a break for it like he had.  They made their way through the glass doors and back to the outside world, and only then did Yuri finally slow down.  Minako and the triplets caught up just in time to see the reunion...and the ballerina caught her first clear sight of that hand-holding that she'd missed earlier.

She blinked at it, almost as surprised to see that as she had been to see the kiss in China.  She pointed at their threaded fingers, then looked to Victor, but he just shushed her with a smile and a wink.  Even she blushed when she realized what it meant; the kiss could be written off as a celebratory moment of craziness, but not this.

"We're so proud of you, Yuri!" Hiroko chirped, clapping her mittened hands in front of her face as Toshiya and Mari nodded beside her happily, "How about some katsudon to celebrate?"

Yuri's stomach growled like a lion even just at hearing the word, and his father laughed and pointed at him before a thing could be said to hide it.

"You just won a big competition!" The older man had said, "But don't sit on your laurels too long or you'll gain weight again!"

Clenching his eyes shut, Yuri could feel the blood drain from his face; he had no come-back.

"We have to get ready for Nationals in two weeks," Victor said, saving him, "We get one katsudon per medal, and Yuri's more-than earned it."

"Are you even ready for Nationals, Yuri!?" Minako asked pensively, finally approaching to join the rest of the group properly, "You'd been saying all this time that the Final might be your last competition."

He nodded nervously, "Y-Yeah...  But Victor says he's coming back.  How can I stay on the side-lines when he's competing again?" He pointed out, feeling a thumb-stroke gently across his own, "It's going to be complete madness when he steps out again for the first time, even if it takes until Worlds for it to happen."

"One step at a time..." The Russian interjected, "Let's get back to the resort.  We've been traveling for 22 hours straight. In Economy.  And the mention of katsudon is making my mouth water."

The ballerina pointed at him and laughed, "I got bumped to Business class for the trip between Paris and Tokyo! Bet you're jealous!"

Those blue eyes went wide, and practically filled with tears. Victor dropped his face to his partner's shoulder, "When we start competing out of St. Petersburg, we're traveling my way. I'm never flying Economy again!"

"...But the seats are free, and I fit into Coach just fine..." Yuri mused, reaching up to pat the man's head.

"I'm taller than you are!"

"By like 3 inches."

"Three inches makes a world of difference in a lot of places!"

Yuri stared blankly for a moment, but then went bright red, much to Victor's amusement.

"Come along then," Hiroko called, starting to wander off already, "We brought the van to drive everyone and everything back to Yu-Topia!"

.

Makkachin bounced with excitement to see his human again, and just as he'd gotten done jumping at Victor, he made for Yuri and bowled him over.  Victor was tugged slightly down as Yuri hit the ground, being mauled with poodle-love in a helpless heap of laughs and pleading for the pup to let him up again.  Despite the chaos, they refused to let each other's hands go, and twisted however was necessary to keep holding on.

Hiroko looked back after taking her coat off, and saw the one ring on Yuri's finger where that hand was visible outside the fray, "The announcers were saying you had matching rings for luck." She commented warmly, "But these don't look like cheap good-luck charms."

Victor glanced up, but then back down again and bent to pull his dog off his partner, all the while holding onto that one hand. 

Finally free to stand up again, Yuri's eyes went from where his mother was watching them from, and drifted over to his sister and Minako.  Mari still had that 'wat' look on her face from the group dinner when the rings were first pointed out, but Minako had already confirmed what was going on, and smiled slyly without saying anything.

"They're real." Victor chimed in, setting his poodle down before raising his ring-bearing hand up to hold it on display.  A moment later, he used that same hand to help get Yuri back up onto his feet, and once the man was standing, hugged him adoringly, "We're engaged."

Hiroko immediately fawned over the idea, both hands up on her cheeks in excitement. For the immediate moment though, Toshiya wasn't sure what to think, and just watched in surprised-and-confused quiet as his wife beckoned everyone through the empty resort.  Food was on everyone's minds, so luggage was stacked up on the wall just around the corner from the narrow hall that lead upstairs.  Once those well-anticipated bowls of katsudon were finally presented, the two skaters were like ravenous hyenas, gobbling everything up and making a mess in the process; it was the only time they’d let go of one another in quite some time.  Rice stuck to their faces, and the family around them marveled at how quickly they demolished their dinners. 

"Since the resort was shuttered for the day, Yuri, the place is empty." His mother said in her usual happy way, "But I wouldn't expect it to stay that way. Ever since Victor promoted the town during the 'Hot Springs on Ice' event, there's been more tourists than ever. We might actually have to hire help soon!"

"That's great!" He answered, still somewhat famished, but feeling better since starting to eat.

"Would you mind signing some cards and banners before you leave for Russia?" Toshiya asked pointedly, "We could make a killing on Victor's autographs."

"That again..." Yuri grimaced, "I couldn't ask him to sign a bunch of things to make money for the family business..."

"I'd be happy to." Victor interrupted, reminding them that he was sitting there at dinner with them and not in some far off land where he couldn't hear the conversation, "I'll be family soon enough anyway, right? I want to help." He set his chopsticks down across the edges of the bowl in front of him and reached over to his partner's hand, setting his own gently over it, the gold glinting on his finger.

It was easier to reveal such things in front of a small group, especially since two members of it had been there when the whole thing had originally been revealed, but it still made Yuri a bit jittery to admit it in front of his parents. He looked down at the Victory Katsudon his mother had made, and then turned his hand to better clasp at the fingers curling around it, "No...you're already family."

"You must've gotten those sometime this past weekend." Hiroko said excitedly, looking at him from the other side of the table, "Or were you hiding them from us since China?"

"No...we got them in Barcelona." Yuri explained, feeling a bit anxious again, though supposing that moment was as good a time as ever to ask the question that had been bugging him since the whole thing happened, "I got one ring, to give to Victor as a Christmas-Birthday-Thank-You gift... At first, it was just my way of getting him some gold, in case I didn't win Gold...but then, he surprised me, and had the matching ring in his pocket. I'm still not sure how he managed it."

"That's easy." Victor laughed, leaning over slightly to rub their shoulders together, "I got it right after you bought yours."

"But...how did you do it without me noticing?"

"Oh! Tell the whole story!" Hiroko asked happily, "I want to hear all the details!"

Victor smiled, "Well... After Thursday practice, Yuri surprised me by suggesting we go sight-seeing. We spent the whole rest of the day being tourists around Barcelona, taking a thousand pictures, buying a bunch of interesting souvenirs and trying all the different local foods, and having a lot of fun. But then Yuri started looking around for something specific... At the time, I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but then we passed in front of this fancy jeweler's store, and he insisted on going inside."

"...It was a really impulsive thing..." Yuri admitted sheepishly, "I wasn't even really sure what I was looking for."

.

"I'll take this one." Yuri confirmed nervously, pulling out his wallet to hand over the credit card, "I'll pay in installments."

Victor watched quietly from behind him, a bit surprised, though not sure what the man had just done.  When Yuri got the tiny black velvet box, it was placed inside a fancy tote-bag and passed across the counter, and he took the handles with a shaky hand, passing in front of the Russian to head back towards the door.

"I'm done...we can go now..." His voice said, though Victor barely heard it, a finger on his lip as he gazed back down into the glass case to see if he could figure out what was missing, "Victor?"

"I'll meet you outside." He said with a smile, "I want to look around a little bit."

"Oh...okay." Yuri answered, blinking once in surprise, but then turning to move towards the exit. He looked down into the bag, his cheeks red, but smiling to himself anyway.

When Yuri was outside, Victor turned back to the case, looking it over quite seriously.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" The clerk on the other side asked, putting back the small red-velvet display cushion, one gold ring absent from it now.

Blue eyes opened wide in surprise, and the Russian glanced back towards the door, standing fully upright, "...Yuri...? You..." He turned back to the clerk and pointed at the small cushion, tapping his fingernail on the glass, "Miss, did my friend just buy the matching ring?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let me have the other." He said resolutely, smiling even more than before as it truly dawned on him was had happened. He pulled his own wallet out after that, and grabbed for the credit card inside.

"Victor, why are you taking so long?" Yuri's voice returned, the door chiming again as he came back inside.

The silver swiveled so quickly on his heel that his jacket and scarf flared out to the side, but he gave nothing away, "Sorry, Yuri! You know how much I like gold though! I'd kiss everything in this store if I could!" He feigned, hands behind his back, waggling the card between his fingers so it wouldn't be seen. The clerk took the hint and grabbed the card discreetly, hiding it behind the display as she walked away with it and the second ring.

Yuri gave a skeptical look.

"I'll be just a minute! Wait outside?"

"...Okay?" Another skeptical look, but the anxious skater let the door close again.

Victor slowly turned back around, signing the bill for the near-800-Euro gold band, and put the small black-velvet box into his coat pocket, "Spasibo."

.

"We went to the Sagrada Familia after that... Yuri pulled my glove off and slipped the ring on my finger." Victor explained, reminiscing fondly, "There was a freelance Christmas choir there, singing a hymn...it was all really nice."

Yuri's face was red at the memory of it, but he wasn't quite so nervous about the responses or judgment as he had been earlier.

"I wish I could've been there to see the look on his face when you pulled the ring out of your pocket." Hiroko mused, looking at her embarrassed son.

"His face was almost as red as it is now." Victor laughed, leaning his head over to rub the side of his forehead against the man's cheek and ear.

"Your face didn't go red at all." Yuri pointed out, "Do you blush?"

"Well, I already knew what was going to happen." The Russian explained, rubbing his thumb back and forth gently over those nervous fingers, "Why do you think I was so excited while we walked over there?"

"I thought it was just the hot wine you drank before..."

"Nope!"

The relief was something Yuri could feel in his gut, though the whole thing was still nerve-wracking. He glanced across the table to meet his mother's eyes, but was surprised to see tears there, and for an instant, he felt a pit in his stomach, "Mom...why are you...?  Just a second ago..."

"When you came home from America and said you'd never found a girlfriend there, I was so sad for you. A young man like yourself, 23 years old and still single... For a woman, that would be a social catastrophe!"

Yuri blanched at his mother's explanation. Minako had much the same look on her face, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Mari grimaced as well, "Mom..."

"You'll get there, honey, don't worry!" Hiroko reassured, "You just need to put yourself out there more!" She turned back to the couple on the other side of the family table, "After all the time you boys had been together, I was starting to worry that nothing would ever happen. But when Victor jumped at you in China, I thought that maybe you're not so hopeless after all!"

"I'mnothopeless..." Yuri sighed quietly.

It was only then that the 'prodigal son' realized that his father hadn't said a word about any of it yet. The topic had never really come up before. Coming home from a skating tour at age 24 with a fiancé would be one thing...but a male fiancé...that was something else entirely.

"How did this happen?" His father finally spoke up, almost too sternly, "He just came here to be your coach."

At that moment, Yuri was glad to have Victor next to him, still holding solidly to his hand. He adjusted his glasses and spoke calmly, "It just...happened. Over time. Victor helped me grow and be more confident in myself, and as the days and weeks went by, we got closer. At some point along the way, I realized I couldn't do all this without him, and when I told him to stay with me, he…"

"...It was a marriage proposal, don't be modest!  You can’t fool me with your Japanese word-trickery!" Victor mused, brushing back raven hair affectionately with his free hand, trying to lighten the mood, "The ring you got me in Barcelona just made it official."

"I see." The elder man said quietly.

"You're not...angry, are you?" Yuri's gaze remained fixed on his father, and he felt like he was being slowly crushed by the guilt, even though on the surface, he didn't feel like he should be guilty for anything. Being with Victor made him happy, and the thought of losing him...well...he'd already made his peace with that once before.

"I support you in everything you do." The elder finally answered, "Just don't fool around in earshot of everyone. I wouldn't want to hear that even if Victor were a woman. You're still my child."

"We won't, sir." Victor said all-too-politely, looking aside to see Yuri's face go bright red at the thought of it.

.

After finally getting away from the rest of the family, Yuri couldn't wait to get into the hot spring. Just as they'd been told, the place was entirely empty.

Victor was pulling off clothes next to him, sitting back on the bench to get to his socks, "Hurry up, Yuri! I want to get into the water!"

"Okay, okay...I'm going!" He answered, slowly reaching to pull at his own socks...but Victor suddenly held onto one of his shoulders. Yuri turned his head, cheeks flushed, and looked at the half-dressed figure in front of him, seeing the man stepping out of his slacks as he used that shoulder as a support. He turned quickly away again, looking at the floor.

"What's wrong? Why are you so anxious all of a sudden?" Victor wondered, giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze, "You've seen me naked a thousand times just because of the onsen alone. What's one more time?"

Yuri staggered in embarrassed surprise, "I’m not!  Well, not more than usual!  Maybe more than usual…  B-but only a little bit!"

"Why, because of your parents?" The silver mused, stepping towards the corner that lead to the main bathing room, "I don't see why that should change things. It's not like we're different."

"...Ofcoursewe’renot..." Yuri huffle-laughed, waving at the man in a playfully dismissive way.

"Well, don't wait too long to come out." Victor called, a hand already on the door to the next room, "I might fall asleep before long!"

Yuri glanced back, seeing the same fingers as before holding to the corner of the changing-room wall, and caught a glimpse of the gold as they pulled away. The door opened and closed again before Yuri moved, setting his eyes down on the band around his own right ring-finger. He held his hand up in front of himself, practically able to see his own reflection in the glinting metal.

.

'We'll get married after Yuri wins the Gold Medal. Right, Yuri?'

'V-Victor...!'

.

If not for being an anxious person anyway, Yuri could’ve easily cracked into a nosebleed right then.  His whole body flushed hot, then cold, then hot again, as hopes and dreads and dreams all flashed through him like lightning.  He’s really serious about this, isn’t he?  No, he couldn’t be, he’s just saying all this cuz he’s theatrical…  But he’s only putting on a performance for me most of the time, could he really keep it up without giving himself away?  More and more, his mind raced, feeling untethered without Victor in the room to keep the ship of his anxiety safely moored.  But the way he's been explaining it to everyone...he can't just say he's kidding now. Yuri lifted his head, looking at the wall in front of himself, I wonder then if this is just some joke that got away from him?  Maybe he only meant it to motivate me to try harder to win Gold. I won Silver though... He can say we're engaged all he wants since he doesn't have to follow-through with the rest...

By the time he'd gotten changed and stepped into the next room, the sound of the shower was off. Victor had already moved through to the onsen outside. Yuri moved into one of the open stalls and sat on the short stool in front of the water nozzle, yawning to himself quietly as he reached for it. The hand that covered his mouth brushed against his lips though, and he hesitated when he brought the shower-head forward.  ...Victor openly wondered if he should kiss me to help me feel better in China.  He said it like he was just offering to carry my bags for me.  Just a carrot on a stick that would cost him nothing.  He lowered the fingers away from his mouth and pulled the shower-head up above his hair, clicking the button on the handle to let the water gush down over him, trying unsuccessfully to wash away the thought.

But then he kissed me in front of the whole world. Maybe he only did it for shock value...after all, he did say it was the only thing he could think of in the moment to surprise me. But then, the way we were last night...and all the way back home...  He could feel the nervous sweat rolling off his almost as thickly as the water, and he made a face at the shower-stall.  Katsuki Yuri, don’t you dare get yourself all worked up into a worry-storm again!  This is Victor you’re talking about!  He gave up his whole life for skating, and then gave up his skating to train you!  You’re just nervous cuz things are getting serious!  Stop trying to talk yourself out of…of…!  He could feel his whole head turning red, and he flung the shower-head back at the holster on the wall.

CLICK!

"There you are." Victor's voice spoke.  Yuri glanced up as he finally stepped out onto the onsen’s stone deck.  He saw the man sitting in the water on the opposite side of the spring; his usual spot, "How did I say it before?" Victor wondered with a smile, reaching his hand out towards the younger figure, "Yuri...starting today, I'm your coach."

Hazel eyes watched, and he listened intently, keeping a hand around the towel clinging to his small frame.  He gathered his courage and ignored the nag-rat clawing at his insides.

"I'm going to make you win the Grand Prix Final." The Russian finished, giving him the wink again, but staying seated that time, "Maybe that all wasn't entirely true though."  He brought his pale hand back to his lip in thought, hearing his partner slip into the water.  "No...that's wrong now." The Russian smiled, "Yuri, starting today, I'm your fiancé."

Yuri grimaced a smile, "...Wouldn't that be true since Thursday though?  When we exchanged rings?"

"Yes...and yet, no," Victor pointed out, reaching a hand out to put a finger under the younger man's chin, "You've been playing along, but you’ve been holding out on me." He explained, seeing how he’d made Yuri mentally stumble a little for being called out, "I've been watching you fidget and squirm every time it's come up in front of people you know, like you're scared of what they might think if you said it was true."

"...Victor..." Yuri fumbled, and slid one hand up from under the water around that pale wet arm, holding to the hand under his face, “If I look like I’m scared, it’s because you’re out of my league and everyone knows it.  I’m a mere peasant marrying into royalty.  Even I wonder if it’s real sometimes.”

"It is real though, right?" The Russian wondered, "You're not just playing along to spare my feelings..?"

Cherry-hazel eyes opened wide at the idea, "...Why would I-?" Yuri said, eyes wide for a moment.  He tried to gather his thoughts, and considered the whole thing from Victor’s point of view.  He drew in a quiet breath and closed his eyes, "Since this all started during competition...I've been worried that you were just doing it to surprise people... That you’d only put on this grand show while people were watching, since every time we got back to Hasetsu, it was like things went back to before the Grand Prix started... I didn't..."

Victor blinked those blue eyes in hurt confusion, "...You didn't what...?"

"I didn't...want to get my hopes up..." He finished, looking away again as he sank back down, “Read into something that wasn’t there.”

"...Ah." The silver realized, "I see."

Yuri groaned quietly where he sat, all but blowing bubbles to distract from his embarrassment, "But when you came to pick me up after Rostelecom, and kind of gave myself away...I started to believe.  I’m just…  I don’t know what I’m doing." He smiled pitifully, brows furrowed from the admission, “You heard my mom.  I’m kind of old to be getting into it with someone for the first time.”

"This whole time, I've felt like you were avoiding me." Victor explained, "I'd reach out to you, and you seemed interested, but then you'd back off again.  Or you'd say things and then nothing else would happen. When I realized you'd gotten the ring, I thought that maybe that would be the moment where you'd finally stop running away...but you didn't even try to kiss me when you put it on my finger..."

“You didn’t try to kiss me either!” Yuri countered, lifting a finger out of the water to point at the man, "But then, I remembered how…we'd planned since the start that you'd be going back to Russia after the Final." Yuri explained, feeling the dread all over like a dye that stained his skin, "The closer it came to the end, the more nervous I got. That's...why I said we should end things...so you could go back to focusing on your own skating, without having to let me down...  I guess, in a way, I thought it would hurt less if I broke up with you before you could break up with me.  Before it could be revealed that this wasn’t actually what I thought it was.  To…give you an easy out, to spare the both of us from embarrassment."

"Yuri..." The Russian said quietly, reaching a hand out to caress the back of a finger against the younger man’s jaw, "Do you still have so little faith in me...? Do you really think I'd be able to just leave? After everything we've been through?"

"...I didn't want you to think that you were tied down by me." He answered, keeping his gaze averted, "I already took so much away from you. It was fun in the moment, but when the adrenaline wore off, my feet got cold again, and I started over-thinking it all.  Why would someone like you change their plans for someone like me?”

"You talk so poorly of yourself." Victor sighed, reaching his hand up to run his wet fingers through that damp black hair, "But I meant it when I kissed you in China. When I asked you to never retire." He explained, brow furrowed for the worry of not being believed, "So I could stay close to you, even if I could only do it as your coach, if that's how it had to be. ...Stammi vicino..."

Hazel eyes opened wide at the mention of those lyrics. 

Victor perked his head up and heart-smiled wide, "’Aria’ meant so much more to me by the time I skated it at Worlds.  I was so sad that you weren’t there.  After all, I've wanted you since Sochi." He shrugged his shoulders up with a laugh, "You’d believe me if you’d look at the pictures!”

"I get stupid when I'm drunk!" Yuri explained, cutting him off, water splashing everywhere as he flailed his hands back and forth in denial, "I'd rather not know how stupid. Celestino dragged me to that Banquet against my will. I drank myself into oblivion so I'd get a break from feeling miserable!"

"But you’re missing out on my half of that story.” Victor huffed, reaching for where he’d kept his phone hidden in a towel on the deck, "Sit next to me. It'll make sense, I promise.  Forget the worry about what you’ll see of yourself, and let me be your guide.  Let me show it to you through my eyes."

Nervously, Yuri did as bid, sliding forward to sit on the submerged stone bench. He extended his legs out and crossed his ankles, feeling an odd tingle as Victor slid an arm behind his back, a hand carefully settling onto the crest of his hip. His felt the pull to bring him in closer as his idol unlocked the phone. The Russian went through the huge photo gallery list until [SOCHI GPF] came up. That pale thumb clicked into it, and dozens of images popped up. Yuri looked immediately away, even though he only saw the tiny thumbnails.

"People started taking pictures as soon as they realized you were getting into it with Yurio." Victor explained, remembering it all quite fondly, scrolling through a slideshow of the pictures; many showed how Victor himself was slowly creeping into the shot from the background, camera-phone happily clicking away. 

"Ignoring how ridiculous I look…  What...were you doing?" Yuri wondered, intrigued now, "And why was I dancing with Yurio...? He'd just screamed at me to retire the day before..."

Victor gave him a puzzled look, "He did...?"

"Yeah.  Caught me in the bathroom." Yuri nodded, "Said he didn't want there to be two Yuris when he got into Seniors, especially since I had bombed so badly."

"...Wow." The Russian gave an almost exasperated sigh, "Well, you challenged him to a dance-off after asking me to come here and be your coach. I hadn't even answered yet, b-"

"Whoa whoa, wait...I...asked you to be my coach? Back then?"

"Yeah, actually. I have a video of it." Victor answered, much to Yuri's surprise, "Why do you think I came?"

"I don't know! It was three months later!"

"I was still on a winning streak at the time! And you yourself said to wait until after the season was over!" The Russian exclaimed, sliding through the gallery until he saw thumbnails with play-buttons on them, "Besides, we barely knew each other back then...and I was still kind of surprised by how insistent you were with your request. But you and I had so much fun leading up to that.  See?”  He slid through several photos of himself and Yuri dancing together as well, getting intimately close to each other in some of them, “I didn't even realize the impact you'd had on me until after the Banquet anyway.  But, here.  This is it."

The video pulled up quickly, taking off from soon-after the previous photos. Yuri had lost his pants at some point, and his tie was around his head. A disheveled Yurio was snarling in the background, unbeknownst to the Victor on the screen. Chris was next to them, naked but for his underwear, cooling down from his earlier strip-tease.  And, right in the middle of it all, a thoroughly plastered Yuri was hugging and gyrating against the tall Russian he’d idolized for so long.  He turned his flushed face up towards those surprised blue eyes and spoke with a dazed slur.

"Victor... After the season ends, my family runs a hot springs resort, so please come! If I win this dance-off...you'll become my coach, right? Be my coooooach, Victoooor!"

A moment of silence passed, and it seemed like Victor – after a tiny, surprised gasp, and with an extremely uncommon pink hue glowing on his cheeks - was about to answer, but-

"He's not going to be your coach, crybaby!" Yurio barked, smacking the man to get him off his rink-mate, "He already has plans for next year that don't involve GPF wash-outs!"

"That not nice..." Victor had tried to calm the situation.

Yuri had been too drunk to be embarrassed, or to even back down from this Russian Punk. He stood as tall as his inebriation would allow, "...Then how about we raise the stakes... Whoever wins this dance-off…Victor will coach them!"

"That’s not what this is about!  I don't have to agree to shit!"

"Are you chicken!?"

"WHAT WAS THAT-"

The video went on for a half-second longer before being stopped by the presence of a crowd. Too many people were in the way to get a good shot. Victor clicked out of it and turned to look at Yuri's reaction, “So many people sent me photo-dumps of that night.  I kept every one, all this time.  It baffles and amazes me that you somehow avoided seeing any of it.”

"I had...no idea..." Yuri said quietly, "I...I didn't even...  I wanted to run away…  I basically ghosted everyone, and avoided being online as much as I could…"

Victor smiled and held him closer, nosing at the side of the man's head fondly, "You were drunk back then, but it planted a seed. One that would haunt me for all the days and weeks to come." He said, opening another folder labeled [WORLDS TOKYO.] At the very end were two thumbnails that looked remarkably similar, except one was Victor in full 'Aria' regalia, and the other was Yuri in just his practice clothes.  They were videos of both of their ‘Aria’ performances.

Yuri watched in silence as the video of himself started to play.  He was still confused though, "I just about had a stroke when Nishigori texted me that this video of my ‘Aria’ had been posted online…  I was so embarrassed about the idea that you might see it...  I'm just...Katsuki Yuri...  The fact that my video went viral was only because of what a joke it was that a depressed fatty like me would even try to do one of your ultra-hard programs…  I don’t doubt that people were making fun of me for it."

"Actually…people saw the video, and wondered how it was possible for you to have bombed so badly at Sochi if you were able to pull this off.  You clearly have talent, and passion for your craft.  You made it to the Final Six, and got all the way to Sochi, only to fall apart." Victor explained, "I was already struggling with figuring out what to do moving forward with my own career.  So when I saw your imitation of 'Aria,' and how perfectly you'd pulled it off while thinking no one was watching... "  He laughed softly and clicked the phone off, setting it back down onto the towel behind him, "You’d already given me the most perfect excuse to see you again, and it was the first thing I thought of when I saw this.  Knowing you’d cut ties with Celestino and had gone back home, I knew you didn’t have a coach anymore.  So I’d come be your coach, just like you asked, and we could help each other.”

"...Why didn't you just call me after Sochi?”

“Would you have even picked up to phone?” Victor looked at him skeptically.

“We're both friends with Chris; you could've just asked him to do it."

“You just said you’d ghosted everyone.  I can’t imagine you’d have picked up for him either.”

“Mhhrr…”

"Besides; you blew me off during hotel check-out." Victor said quietly, "I thought you were mad at me for not agreeing to be your coach at the Banquet."

"...I did what...?  I don't remember that..."

"Yeah." The Russian nodded, "I saw you leaving with Celestino to go to the airport. The sad look on your face reminded me of when you turned down the photo with me after the Free Skate..." Victor looked out over the steaming water, thinking back on it, "I tried to get your attention, but just like before, you turned your back on me without saying a word. That's when I realized I'd already started to fall for you...because my heart shattered to see you walk away."  Victor’s expression contorted from sadness to stunned disbelief, “I mean, people have gotten cold feet and run away from photos before, but this…you…felt different.  You weren’t just feeling shy…it was like you felt unworthy.”

"...I don't...remember hearing you say anything to me in the hotel lobby...  I don't even remember seeing you." Yuri stammered quietly, "I was so hung-over from the night before that I just kept my eyes down, and followed Celestino around like a robot."

Victor hummed quietly to himself, "Yurio could tell you how miserable I was the entire way back to Russia after that.  I was even worse after I heard you bombed again at Nationals and retired.  I poured all my sadness into 'Aria' after that.  The song became so much more personal because of you." He explained, and Yuri listened quietly, curiously, "Italian is a Romance language, like French or Spanish, so many words come in male and female forms, depending on who you're talking to." Victor elaborated, excited to get to reveal such a nuanced plot-device, "Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato." He spoke the lines quietly, "You know it?"

"Yeah, that's from the beginning..."

"StatO and abbandonatO are masculine forms of the words. There'd be an A in place of the Os at the end if it were feminine." Victor went on, "Always do the opposite of what people expect you to do; that's my motto, right? So, I originally thought, with all the female fans I have, why not make a program where my song calls out for another man instead of a woman, like they'd all expect?"

Yuri just narrowed his eyes and smiled skeptically, “Who would’ve even realized it besides maybe some of the Italian fans?”

Victor ignored the question acrobatically, "After Sochi though, I had switched the meaning around in my head. It wasn't just some faceless, nameless figure anymore...it was a lament for having lost you. I didn't know how else to deal with it. So...when your video went viral, and I saw you doing the same program..." The Russian turned to the younger man excitedly, and reached to grab his hands under the water, lifting them up to clasp them in his own, "...I thought you were calling back to me...!  That you'd forgiven me.  I was so inspired!  I made up my mind right then. I came to Hasetsu so fast, Yakov must've thought my ass had caught fire. He barely caught me on the way to the airport, too...even tried to stop me. I was on a mission, though." He lifted one arm up and pressed back of a wrist against his brow, “Vitya, don’t go!  Russia can’t lose her Champion!  Yakov, you were the best coach I ever had…but I have to do this.  It was all very dramatic.” He nodded sagely at the obviously-correct and clearly-not-embellished retelling.

Yuri just looked on in dazed amazement, but then took on a slightly more serious air, and looked down, "After Nationals, I quit watching figure skating competitions outright..." He sighed, feeling his eyes and throat starting to ache, "Seeing all my friends competing without me, and seeing you...I just...couldn't stand watching it all go on without me.  It was like I was dead.  No one seemed to notice, no one seemed to care that I was gone."  He could feel the tears starting to build up, seeing his reflection on the water starting to blur behind them, "And yet, all that time..."

Victor leaned in a bit closer, holding the younger man’s frame against himself a little firmer.  Slate eyes were half-lidded, and he spoke softly, "Yuri...  When I came here, I'd been heartbroken and in love with you for three months already.  I had no idea if you'd reciprocate those feelings, so I vowed that, at very least, I would show you my love by being the best coach you'd ever had.  I didn't even dare to entertain the idea that you'd meet me half-way until I saw the smile on your face after I kissed you.  I just got so many mixed signals after that though...but I also thought, maybe you were trying to reconcile things in your head, or were trying to talk yourself down from it...but that you’d sort it out sooner or later.  The longer it went on, the clearer it became that I'd never be able to leave you.  As your coach, as your friend...as your lover...it didn't matter...as long as I could stay with you, I could find happiness."

Tears flowed freely down Yuri's face, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the man next to him.  He reached a wet hand up out of the water to dry his eyes, though that wasn't the greatest idea he'd had, since it just made everything even more wet than it already was. 

Victor found the sight somberly endearing, so he reached for the towel on the ledge behind him, setting his phone down on the tile to pull the white fluff away in its place, "Don’t be sad; we’re finally on the same page about everything…and I'm right here.  So what are you still waiting for...?"

Yuri squeaked nervously, noticing only then how close the Russian had gotten to him while he was busy mewling.  All he could see was the one slate-blue eye peering at him, Victor's face already slightly tilted before him, but holding a few inches away.  He could feel his lips tingling, the warmth of every breath against his skin.  He felt his hands twitch where he held them together in his lap, and suddenly…there was an odd calm in his mind.  He felt clarity and peace, blissful silence in his anxious head, and he let himself lift the leg that had pressed up against his idol's, moving his knee just over that pale thigh so he could twist himself inward more comfortably.  Water dripped from his fingers and wrist as he brought his trembling hand out of the water, hesitantly sliding it forward until he could feel the skin of the man's chest against his palm.  He held still for a moment, looking on into that one visible blue eye...but when he saw Victor close it, he knew the moment had come.  Yuri drew in a quick breath, and leaned that final inch forward, closing the gap between them...

...only to realize he hadn't moved his lips at all, and he'd effectively just squashed their faces together awkwardly.  Embarrassed, Yuri pulled back again, keeping his eyes clenched shut to avoid the judging look he was sure to be getting, "I'm so sorry." He whined into the palms of his hands, "I messed it up..."

"Yuri..." Victor mused, appreciating the effort and well-understanding those nerves, “Do you want me to help?  You don’t have to do it on your own.”

Yuri gawped slightly and hiccupped a nervous breath, but eventually found the strength to nod.

"That’s just what I like to see." Victor smiled, and turned slightly in his own seat.  He gently reached to pull Yuri’s hand around again, and placed it back on his chest where it had been a moment before, "Let me be your first and only love.  The one you share all of your firsts with...  We can share every sunrise, every sunset, as our bodies give out and we can't even skate anymore...we'll always have each other."

Nervous flutters in Yuri’s chest took over the embarrassed gnaw of his earlier stumble, and he quickly allowed the experienced Russian to guide him through.  With one hand already on the man’s chest, it only felt natural to lift the other to hold onto a shoulder, and Yuri looked on with nervous eyes as Victor inched his way nearer.  A hand cupped his cheek, and after feeling one last adoring nuzzle, he felt the brush of lips against the side of his mouth, then the full, soft, gentle warmth of it all. 

Bliss.

It was unlike anything Yuri had ever known…even entirely unlike the brief, glancing blow of their kiss at Cup of China.  Patient, completely selfless, enduring and calming; it was the most beautiful thing Yuri ever known.  All he wanted was for it to go on forever.  Every slight turn, starting a new kiss from a different angle without ever really ending the first one; it was all so perfect.  Victor only backed off a little bit after to give him a chance to catch his breath, but sitting in that warm water, with the feeling of velvet-soft skin brushing against his own, Yuri looked on that face with new eyes.

"Starting today...I'm your fiancé.  For real." Yuri said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Victor smiled brightly, the joy and relief of it all finally settling in.  His hand went back under the water and maneuvered Yuri's legs over his lap to make the angle more comfortable, then replaced his fingers under the man's chin to draw him nearer, "Perfecto...  And now," He said quietly, "I’m going to kiss you some more."

Yuri smiled, and all his nerves finally melted away.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE

Green robes were thrown on, and the enamored duo slowly made their way upstairs.  Makkachin squeezed his way between them and the wall, and was sitting quite happily on Victor's big bed when they finally arrived.  With their doors being only a few feet apart, Yuri glanced inside his own room for a moment, and a thought struck him.

Victor felt the hesitation to go in, and turned back curiously, "What is it?  Forget something?" He wondered, coming back into the hall a little.  He slid his hands over his partner's waist and gently kissed his neck as he nestled in against the younger man's back, "Or do you want to squeeze onto your bed instead?" He teased.

"No, I just..." Yuri started, rubbing his cheek against his fiancé's brow, "It's kind of weird to think of how useless my own room now is.  I've slept in a room by myself every day of my life; even when I was training in Detroit with Phichit-kun, we had our own rooms."

"It can sometimes take a little while to get used to sharing a space with someone, but..." Victor explained, hands roaming around his partner's front to hug him, pulling him into himself a little tighter, "I think you'll get used to it pretty quick.  There's a lot to like."

"I like it already." Yuri answered, turning in place to face his silver love, and started to nudge him backwards into the repurposed banquet hall, "I pushed you away for such a long time, but now..."

"...Never again." Victor finished, nose to nose until he felt the bed on the back of his legs.

"Bridging the divide between us...literally and figuratively." Yuri described, watching those blue eyes lower as the Russian sat down.  Makkachin eagerly came up and hopped up against Victor's back, panting happily over one shoulder as his human laughed.  "Ever since those first days," Yuri started again, loosely curling his fingers around the hands that slid into his own, "My heart would pound in my chest...  I thought at first that it was out of sheer terror and disbelief...and I'm sure that was part of it, but..." He added, looking down at that longing face, "When I let myself realize that it was because of how happy I was, I could hardly imagine that it would ever get any better than that.  How could it?"

"How indeed?" Victor wondered, slipping out from under his dog's affection, and started to scoot back on the bed until he found his pillows at the head. 

Yuri came up alongside on the Russian's right, and sat on the edge, "Did...you ever wonder what happened to me...?" He wondered, looking down at first as he contemplated his next move, "I mean, after seeing how physical I was with you at the Sochi banquet, and knowing how I was with you over the first few months of you being here...there must've been a moment where you wondered what was wrong with me.  Why I wasn’t like that anymore."

"Wrong?  No..." Victor shook his head, and lifted the hand he'd retaken to kiss the fingers there, beckoning his partner closer, "You were pretty drunk back then.  I thought maybe you were just more open when you had some liquid courage; your distance afterwards was just the difference between being sober and being sauced."

Yuri made a face at him, but pulled his legs onto the bed and under the covers as he shuffled nearer, "I went from dry-humping you in public to running away in private."

Victor laughed at the pointedness of that truth, and flopped back down into the pillows, drawing in a happy breath as he looked out through the big window behind him, "Alcohol makes brave men of us all." He said, looking down and to the side again as Yuri fidgeted with the blankets, "So what do you want to do?"

"Do?" Yuri echoed in confusion, slumping over his outstretched legs, looking on that pale face and exposed chest.  His cheeks went pink and he looked away again, smiling nervously, "...Well, get used to things, I guess.  I'm going to wake up in this bed tomorrow morning, but I'm still going to wonder if what's happening is real.  This is all just...so fantastical...  I could never have thought this would happen, even in my dreams."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Yuri looked back, then forward again as Makkachin rolled onto his back in front of him.  He squished the poodles cheeks as that big pink tongue licked at his wrists, "...Be patient with me..."

"I waited this long for you," Victor pointed out, rubbing his hand across his partner's back, eyes following the gold glint on one finger, contrasted by the green of the fabric behind it, "I don't intend to scare you away by getting overzealous.  I'm in this for the long-haul."

"...Is there anything...I can do...?" Yuri asked nervously.

"Don't think I'm unreachable, or that you can't do anything unless I start it." The silver answered simply, turning his head on the pillow, bangs slipping over his half-lidded eyes, "All of me is yours.  There's nothing of me that's off-limits; there's nothing you can't ask, and plenty you can do without asking at all."

"Oh...  Uhm...well," Yuri stammered, his cheeks getting a bit pinker by the second.

"What is it?" Victor purred, seeing that anxious mind getting to the very edge of a request, and was dying to know what it was.

"It would sound absurd to you, after everything..." Yuri went on, fingers still weaving through the curly brown fur on Makkachin's cheeks.

"What is it?" Victor asked again, curiosity eating him alive.

Those nervous eyes turned back again, looking at that perfect physique, "If I...  I..." Yuri stammered, practically choking on the request.  He clenched his teeth and drew a breath, holding it tightly until he felt that hand moving across his back come to a stop, and he let it go in exhaustion, "...I want to...see you...  I mean, I've seen you, but not up close; not really.  But I don't..." He started, swallowing a nervous breath, "I mean, because I've never been with anyone before, I need...t-time...to make my way through everything regular couples do..."

"I'll never do anything you don't want me to do." Victor reassured, "You can tell me to back off if I'm going too fast, and you can ask me to do things for you."

"...Can I..." Yuri struggled, lifting his knees under the blanket to bury his mouth against, as though the sheets might filter any stupidity that might come out of him, "Can I touch you without...making it seem like I want it to lead to anything...?  I mean, I'm just-"

"An artist…finding his way around a new canvas!" Victor finished, pushing up onto his elbows until he could wiggle out of the sleeves of his robe, and laid back down again, "Getting a mental picture, like a blind man learning about what something looks like with just the use of touch."

Yuri let out that breath, and nodded, "Y-Yeah..."

"Of course." The silver answered happily, "I am your canvas."

Relieved to hear that understanding, spoken out loud in a way that Yuri couldn't even describe coherently in his own head, he twisted around where he sat on the bed, and let his eyes roam over the exposed skin above his fiancé's navel.  He watched every rise and fall of the man's chest, the way the muscle moved under pristine skin, and how tightly it clung to that athletic frame.  Every abdominal was so sharply defined, the intercostals, pectorals, even the ridges of muscle under the deltoid, curving around the edge of each shoulder before turning into biceps.  Those cherry-hazel eyes drank in every inch of that perfect body, but something struck him, "...You don't have a mark on you."

Victor tilted his head slightly, silver strands of hair tousling lightly over his cheek, "I have one or two, but I'll never tell where they are." He teased, "If you ever find them, though, I promise I'll tell you."

"...Can you at least let me know if I would be able to see them, given what I can see of you right now?" Yuri wondered, brows raised.

"You would."

"I see..."

"You can touch if you want, too."

Another nervous lump was swallowed, but Yuri nodded, and moved a bit closer, lifting his right hand up over his fiancé's ridged tummy.  Victor twitched slightly when skin met skin, and Yuri pulled his hand back.

"It's okay," Victor laughed, "Your fingers are cold, that's all.  Touch me more and warm them up."

"Oh..." Yuri puffed a relieved breath, and brought his hands up to cup over his mouth, breathing a lungful of warm air against his skin.  He then tried again, and he heard Victor hum a happy sigh.  Those cobalt eyes closed as Victor savored every brush of that hand against his body, moving slowly from stomach to ribs, tracing the line of every muscle, creating a 3-D picture in Yuri's mind.  He roamed over that whole trunk, from abdomen to chest, and pressed his palm to the spot right above his fiancé's heart, feeling it beat beneath his skin, "It's so strange..." He commented, earning one eye half-opening in curiosity at him, "How different it is to touch someone...through clothes or on skin...  Whether as just friends, or as...lovers..."

"Mh."

 Yuri felt the flutters again, but then did something that surprised his partner.  Keeping his hand on the Russian's core, Yuri lifted up from where he sat, came out from under the blankets, and sat across his fiancé's thighs.

Victor watched very carefully, and looked up at the man straddling him, "...You're being brave."

"I'm...balancing on that wire." Yuri commented, putting his other hand on that pale hot skin to join the first, and spread his fingers out, "Even though it's not even an inch, there's...something safe about there being clothes and sheets and blankets between us.  It's like watching something on television...you can be interested in it, knowing that no matter how terrible, or dangerous, or...intimate...it is...none of it could ever reach out and do something to you."

"We're not exactly separated though." Victor pointed out, arms casually laid out beside him, hands relaxed close to his head, "If you wanted, things could go very differently."

Yuri nodded, but gave a knowing smile, "If I wanted...but I’m happy with this, right here, for now."

"What are you thinking about?"

"...About how...surprised I am...that I feel so at ease, despite how strange this all is." He answered, "And how lucky I feel...that in spite of how far away you always were from me, that now...you're right here.  Closer than I ever imagined, and...being so patient with me.  Letting me figure out how close I want to get, and how quickly, or slowly, and just...letting me look, or touch, and not making me feel like I owe you anything for the privilege."

"...Owe you anything?" Victor repeated, "I don't follow."

Yuri nodded, and carefully started letting his hands slide forward from their perch on the Russian's stomach.  Fingers grazed the crest of each pectoral, and came together where thumbs and the first few fingers pressed between those two muscles over Victor's sternum, "My view on all this is pretty biased, seen only from the perspective of someone who's never done it before.  But...  It always seemed, at least in America, where if a girl went out with someone, she felt like she was obligated to do something physical for her date.  Some of the guys seemed to think that was an unspoken rule; he buys her dinner, and she..." Yuri's words trailed, and his hands stopped moving, the tips of his fingers just under Victor's collar-bones before he pulled them back again, gripping the edge of the blankets where they came over the man's frame, "She would have to..."

"Have to?" Victor asked, incredulous, "Why would she have to?"

Yuri shrugged unknowingly, "The rules of dating are a bit different out there, I guess.  No good deed goes unpunished."

"Apparently some folks forgot how courting is supposed to go." Victor supposed, reaching for the hands that had pulled away from him.  He threaded their fingers together, and rubbed his thumbs against that nervous skin, "That's not how I operate.  I would never even think to keep track of that sort of thing.  If I buy you dinner, it's because I want to make you happy, not because I want to trap you into something you don't want to do.  I'm looking for your smiles, laughter, and joy.  You should never feel like you have to do anything for me.  That would make me unhappy."

"I don't know why, but...I feel like that's something I already knew about you." Yuri answered, "Though my anxious mind is always churning out dark ideas, my heart seems to be completely at ease with you.  I...can sense that you're a generous spirit.  I mean, there was this image I had of you in my mind from before you came into my life, when I had to put together your personality based on what I saw of it at competitions or on television.  There was always this worry at the back of my head, this doubt I had over the things that, maybe, I was missing about you.  But you never deviated from the imaginary boundaries I had about you.  There were some pleasant surprises, but you were…so genuine, always."

"Well, there's a saying..." Victor explained, getting cozy under the weight over his legs, "'I want to be the person my dog thinks I am.'" 

Makkachin lifted his head briefly, as though understanding that he was being referred to, and his tail thumped lightly on the bed-spread.

"But in truth, I just want to be the person you think I am," Victor added, "And I want it to be because I am that person; that it’s not just some construct I use for show."

"Are you worried...?"

He nodded slightly, "Truthfully, having gotten this far with you...to finally be able to share aspects of myself with you that I couldn't before...  I worry that you'll think less of me, because you'll be seeing things that don't show anyone else."

"...What do you mean?"

"Even though I've been with other people before, I don't think I've ever been as close to them as I feel to you." The silver explained, "I have my private fears that there are quirks about my personality that even I don't know about, because I've never been in this position before.  As nervous as you may feel about being with me, for all the reasons that you have, I'm nervous, too.  So I just hope...that if I mess up, you'll forgive me."

"I think we both have that fear." Yuri affirmed.

"Don't ever think that you can't tell me something." The Russian added, "That you can't ask me to back off or reconsider what I'm doing.  I want you to be completely at ease with me.  ...But keep in mind, as we learn about one another in this new way, there's going to be times where each of us will make mistakes.  It's bound to happen."

"Yeah..." Yuri agreed, slouching somewhat where he sat, brow furrowed, "But...let's try not to let that little dark cloud get in the way of things.  The only brakes I want on this thing we have, is me getting comfortable with it all.  I have enough anxiety to keep us both occupied for a while."

Victor smiled at that, "I think that's one of the things I'm looking forward to most; watching you and I grow into us.  I'm super excited to see where we go together."

Smiling, Yuri nodded, and sallied up a little bit of courage to act on that excitement.  He held his fingers a little tighter where Victor held them, and moved them up towards the pillows.  He came down over top of his partner, his thumbs grazing the edge of silver hair.  He reminded himself of their union in the onsen, and how much he learned just from those minutes, and did his best to act on that new insight.  A gentle nudge of noses started things, and he slid the tip of his own upwards, into the dip just beneath Victor's brow, where he kissed that forehead.  He came back down though, and tilted his head, feeling the butterflies in his stomach before finally letting himself lower down to those soft, warm lips.  He could feel that kiss returned, lips pressing into him, and breathed a happy sigh.  He attempted that morph between the end of one kiss and into the start of another, and pressed a little harder into the second.  Victor lifted his face a bit higher, and smiled as Yuri rose up again.

"Would you mind if I did a little touching?" The silver wondered, feeling the tickle of loose black strands against his cheek, "Nothing below the belt...just the same as you did to me."

That hue of pink darkened, but Yuri shook his head, and lifted to sit upright again.  He wasn't surprised by how easily Victor's hands pawed at his chest, sliding under the open folds of that green robe still clinging to him.  When one hand slid higher though, and pushed the fabric away from his left shoulder, Yuri couldn't help but notice something.  He'd known it already from their days in the hot-spring, but having that direct correlation between hand and body, it just seemed more stark than ever.

"What is it?" Victor purred, fingers sliding along the back of his partner's left arm as that sleeve came further away, "You look really nervous."

"It just...occurred to me." He started, "I'm so much smaller than you."

"...Does it bother you?" The silver asked carefully, sliding his fingers deftly, gently back up again.

"No..." Yuri answered, though hesitantly, "I guess I just never really thought about it.  To be the smaller one in a relationship."

"What would you have thought if it were the other way around?"

"That I could use my size to keep my partner safe.  That I'd have to be vigilant so it never seems like I would use that extra strength to overpower anyone."

"Mmmh...  That is a fine line to dance along." Victor agreed, "That's my responsibility now though.  I must protect the cinnamon roll."

"Cinnamon roll?" Yuri balked, "Is that what I am?"

"As close as you can get." Victor laughed, sitting fully upright so he could wrap his arms around his partner's lithe frame, and kissed at the side of his neck with a nibble for good measure, "You're sweet and soft and warm and perfect and amazing~  And I want you all to myself.  No sharing."

"V-Victor..." The younger man gasped quietly, realizing that the soft and warm attention on his neck gave him a weird tingly feeling all over.

"Oh~  Is this a sensitive spot for you?" The Russian purred, nibbling a bit more just under his partner's ear, "I think I just found my second favorite place to kiss you." He mused, feeling every muscle in Yuri's core get tight as he helped turn the man to lay him down in the blankets again.  All the while, he stayed on that perfect neck, kissing and tasting that skin, and loving every gasp he got as reward for his attention.  When Yuri's knees started to come up though, he backed off a little, and offered a nuzzle against his partner's nose.  He set his hand gently over Yuri's waist and looked adoringly into those over-stimulated eyes, "I'm really going to enjoy learning about all these buttons you have." He said, stroking his thumb across bare skin, "This first one is going to be a real pleasure to tease."

Yuri practically had to catch his breath, and gave a nervous smile, "I didn't even...know that was one until now..."

"This will be rewarding for us both then."

.

Catching up from the loss of sleep after traveling, combined with having that velvet-soft body pressed behind him, Yuri slept like a log.  It was practically a sandwich, with Makkachin in front of him, and Victor behind, keeping him warm from both sides.  He woke briefly as he thought he heard an alarm, but it was gone again as he fell asleep right away.  It was almost noon when Yuri finally roused for good. He was still in Victor's room, but as he sat up and looked around, he realized Victor wasn't there anymore. He reached for his glasses, and then for his phone to turn the buzzer off.

...Where'd he go?  I could've sworn he was still here on the last snooze alarm...

He checked his email first, then Instagram. A few posts down, he balked to see a photo on Victor's feed that showed a selfie of the man, with himself - albeit unconscious - in the background.

v-nikiforov
[picture]
v-nikiforov All tuckered out from his first major win at a big international competition. My lovely Yuri Katsudon~
#Hasetsu #GPFSilverMedalist #SleepIsRequired

He shook his head with a nervous smile to see the thousands of Likes already, and checked the time-stamp...nearly 2 in the morning. Butterflies flew around in his stomach...at least until the growling of hunger scared them away.  He barely registered the tease of a few posts expressing how jealous many followers were that he was getting to sleep under their skating hero’s watchful eye.  Not that the photo really showed anything; blankets were pulled high and only the top half of his head could be seen beyond them.  For all anyone knew, Victor had just stuck his head into Yuri’s room and snapped a photo before leaving again.

Quietly, Yuri made his way out of the large room. He stopped briefly to take a look in his own room again, feeling that same strange sensation as he had the night before.  That odd realization that the room was no longer necessary; that he'd effectively moved out of it as he moved on to a new and unknown part of his adult life.

His ears perked up at the sound of people talking further inside the resort though, and he snuck closer to the source, climbing down the many flights of stairs until he found the first floor. Soon, he could tell that the voices were coming from the kitchen area, and he peeked his head in to see Victor there learning to make pork cutlet bowls from Hiroko.

He taste-tested what they'd made so far, and he let out a happy sigh, "Vkusno~! You're so good at this!"

"You're a natural at cooking, Victor! This is all you!"

Yuri was in awe of how well the man blended, even after the many months they'd spent there to train. Now, it really was like he was family, not just a guest to entertain.

"Frankenstein's Monster finally rises to mingle among the commoners." Mari said jokingly from behind, catching Yuri severely off guard. 

After he'd peeled himself off the wall, the terrorized skater heaved a sigh, "You scared me half to death."

"You need a job that gets you up in the morning." She pat his head as she passed to go into the kitchen with a few orders for lunch, "The resort's back open, so you should help, or find something to do outside."

"Oh! Yuri~!" Victor finally took notice, holding up his new prize, "Good morning-afternoon-time! Hungry?"

"You're letting me have katsudon again already? But haven't won anything since yesterday..." Yuri wondered.

"Last night was for your Silver Medal, but this one's for beating my Free Skate record!  I think it's a good excuse to have your favorite food!" He beckoned his fiancé to the next room and placed the bowl on the low-sitting table, proud of his handiwork and hoping Yuri would like it. When the younger figure finally sat down, Victor looked eager, "Eat quickly, but not too quickly. We're going to go run after this. Every bite is another hundred yards."

Yuri balked, "Every bite!?"

"If we're going to Japanese Nationals after all, we need to make sure you don't get a squishy tummy." Victor quipped.  He crouched down behind his partner, happily plunked his hands down on the man's shoulders, kissed the side of Yuri's neck, and headed back to the kitchen.

Yuri gaped as the Russian moved off, and he looked down at himself...parting the folds of his robe just to make sure his athletic core hadn't become a marshmallow overnight somehow. Seeing that he still had abs, he layered the pieces together again and heaved a sigh of relief...and looked at the katsudon skeptically.  He pulled a pair of chopsticks into his fingers and held them over the steaming food, picking up one of the breaded pork cuts. Brown eyes looked at it with lust, drool starting to slip down out of the corner of his mouth...and he succumbed, “Itadakimaaaaasu.”

By the time he was done, and given half a chance to digest so he wouldn't cramp up in the middle of the afternoon's first round of work-outs, the sun was at its apex. It turned out that the run was just a ruse though... They did run, but in the end, it was just one way Victor employed to get away from the resort.

The cold winter weather made running less strenuous, making it easier to go farther or faster than it would be in the middle of Hasetsu's summer months. Victor ran them up the frozen rocky beach, Makkachin at their heels the whole way, only to walk back along the nearby road with their fingers laced together.

"I noticed that you don't wear gloves anymore." Yuri said sheepishly, "How come? You used to always wear a pair. Aren't your hands cold?"

"Can't see my engagement ring with gloves on." The Russian pointed out, "But you knew that."

Yuri's cheeks were a bit pink, but he stepped a little closer, rubbing his shoulder against his fiancé's, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Is there anything else you want to hear?" Victor wondered inquisitively, leaning his head down so he could look at his partner more evenly, "Yuuuuri~?"

"Say things in Russian." He suggested.

"Hah? Like what?"

"Anything."

"Čto-nibud'."

"What's that mean?"

"Anything."

"Victor."

He just laughed, "Then tell me what you want to hear."

"I don't know, pick something interesting...some common saying or phrase from back home." Yuri suggested again, looking for him to be creative.

"Okay..." Victor lifted his free hand and put a finger on his lip as he thought, but then picked something, "Ne ošibaetsja tot, kto ničego ne delaet."

"That sounds ominous." The younger figure teased.

"It means, 'He who makes no mistakes, makes nothing at all.'" Victor answered, slowing down a little as he felt Yuri do the same, "It's fitting, right? Net ničego nevozmožnogo, Yuri. Nothing is impossible."

Hazel eyes just watched him, as though the words had hit some deeper level that he hadn't anticipated. Eventually, Yuri nodded, his visage gaining a happy smile, "Not anymore."

They eventually made it to the yard outside Hasetsu Castle, moving to sit at the same bench they'd been on shortly after Victor had originally arrived. Yuri brushed the snow off of it with a bare hand, shook the cold off of it, and put those frosted fingers into the armpit of his coat to try and warm it up again as they sat down, only to feel his partner take it back and put it between both of his own hands.  The Russian blew a warm breath between them, making Yuri's skin feel better rather quickly. With his lips still against his skin, Victor looked past their hands, watching his fiancé closely. Seeing the flushed cheeks and the nervous, but willing eyes, he reached his right hand forward and gently brushed it against one cheek, "I can't tell if you're blushing for my sake, or you're just cold."

"It's probably way colder in Russia anyway." Yuri pointed out, halfway avoiding the question as he gave a goofy anxious smile, It's going to take a while to get used to this... Even when he does something so simple like warming my hand up, it makes my heart beat so much faster than normal...

Makkachin flew by after that, kicking up more snow as he dove into a large pile that had been shoveled aside to clear the path earlier in the day. That drew Victor's attention away suddenly, and he reached down with a laugh to scoop some snow into his hands, tossing it above the big brown dog. Makkachin jumped into the air to bite at it, and at each successive snowball that got thrown his way after that, until he finally bolted off again in another direction to dive into another snow-pile.  Yuri had flopped down into a snow-bank while Victor was having his fun, and calmly looked up into the white-grey sky; the clouds that would no-doubt drop even more snow onto Hasetsu later on in the evening.

It's so weird...  Hasetsu normally doesn't get much snow at all, even in winter, but ever since Victor came...

Suddenly though, the Russian was blocking his view, looking down on him from above, "Daydreaming? I wonder what about."

"Hm?" Yuri hummed, blinking a few times as he watched the man descend to lie down next to him in the cold white fluff, "Oh, I was just thinking about how it's going to snow again later." He turned his head slightly, "It's normally not cold enough to snow at all; usually it's just rain...but then you literally brought winter with you, arriving at the head of a rare April snowstorm.  It's kind of poetic, in a way, considering that you came to get me back on the ice."

"I guess you guys celebrate Christmas here, too, since you mentioned it before." Victor said simply, reaching one arm back to settle it under his head, keeping his hair off the ground; his other hand went in search of Yuri's, finding it easily and clasped around it fondly, "Right?"

"Well, a little bit... We don't do it like in America." He explained, "The first Christmas I spent in Detroit was really weird."

"Really? How so?  I bet it's different from Russian Christmas, too." Victor wondered, turning onto his side..

"Well... In America, it's this...awkward...almost disjointed celebration, where half the people think it's a religious thing and the other half think it's a gift-giving thing. One family might have a decorated pine-tree and Santa Claus decorations, and the family next door would have a manger out. But...here in Japan, Christmas is more like...a time where people just spread happiness around, if that makes sense." Yuri did his best to explain, seeing his fiancé nod and smile, "And Christmas Eve is...well...it's...uhm..."

Victor caught on, "What is it?" He teased, leaning in closer to set his free hand over his partner's chest, lying closer next to him, "Christmas Eve is...?"

"Well..." Yuri continued to stammer, "It's...a romantic day, where couples give each other presents and spend time together."

"Oh?  Couples, huh?  Like us?  Interesting~!" Victor hummed happily, leaning in a little closer, fingering the edge of his fiancé's chin, "I'll have to get you something special then." He was looming directly overhead, inching his way closer, his fingers moving further and further up.  He gazed into those brown eyes for a moment...and he lowered himself down to meet the man's lips with his own. He held there for a while, brushing his fingers against Yuri's pale but rosy cheek, moving them down to cup against Yuri's side. He brushed the tips of their noses together lightly and smiled, "Though I don't know what I could get that's more special than what you've given me." Victor said, pulling his partner's hand out from where he'd been holding onto it between them, and kissed the ring on it before settling his chin on Yuri's chest, feeling it squish down against the winter jacket. He paused for a moment, just looking at the man adoringly, "You've given me my L-words."

"...L-words...?"

"Life and love." He answered easily, "Things I've been ignoring for a really long time." He shifted a little, and moved his right leg to settle it gently between his fiancé's, "Look at us..." He said, quieter, closer, "...It's almost like we're making love already..."

Yuri wasn't sure how to answer that, or if he even should. Instead, he raised his left hand up from where it had been lying uselessly in the snow, and brushed the back of his knuckles against the Russian's cheek, "You keep saying stuff like that...and then it happens."

Victor huffed a laugh, "Really? What else have I prophesied?"

"You suggested we should sleep together...and now we do. You asked if you should kiss me...and then you did. You said my request at Fukuoka Airport was like a marriage proposal...and then it turned into one.  Then there's the Makkachin steamed-bun scandal..." He said with a wry laugh, and cupped his hand around the man's head lightly, fingers combing through soft silver hair, "Maybe you can tell the future."

"Then I can't wait to see when my latest prediction comes true." Victor mused, leaning down to kiss him again before helping to pull Yuri back up to his feet, "Let's head back to Yu-Topia. We can grab our skates and go on to the Ice Castle. We need to make sure you're ready to take Gold at Nationals next weekend."

Yuri paused, but then nodded, "...Actually...  Speaking of Gold and Nationals..."

"What is it?" The Russian wondered, looking over the side of his shoulder as they started walking again.

"Well..." He muttered nervously, "The last time I went to Nationals, I came in 11th place. Minami-kun wiped the floor with me. But this time...I'll be going in with a score that completely eclipses any of the other competitors. Even if I mess up somehow, I'll still probably come away with Gold..."

"That's a good problem to have." Victor joked, reaching to settle his arm over his partner's shoulders and hold him close, "But you sound like it's one you'd rather not have."

Yuri returned the gesture with his own arms around his fiancé's back, but he kept his eyes low to the scarf in front of him, "I'm going to be the oldest skater in my bracket, and the most experienced. If skating at Nationals is just a repeat of Regionals, then it'll be less of a competition and more like...a joke." He said pensively, turning his head up to look at his partner warily, "If I win Gold there, I don't want you to kiss it."

"Really?" Viktor answered, surprised.

Yuri nodded, "It won't feel like I had to fight for it. So...unless someone got shockingly good over the last year… I'd rather wait until I win Gold at an international event."

Victor kept his eyes on the man silently, seeing how serious Yuri was...and sighed, "Well, okay..."

"Promise?"

"But it’s Gol-“

“Promise?”

“Ah fine I promise!”

.

The following days proceeded much the same way the first few had. Getting up sometime around noon, working-out until the Ice Castle was free, and then skating until the later part of the evening. Yuri focused as much as he could on mastering the quad Flip, and even started practicing the even-harder quad Lutz.

"You're letting the Flip become muscle memory too soon, Yuri." Victor scolded comically, sliding around where the younger skater was quietly cursing himself, "You keep turning the Lutz into a Flutz."

"I know."

"Just do it like you did when you skated to 'Aria' last year."

"It's not like I don't know how it goes." Yuri chided, "I just feel like I should keep working on the Flip for now, until I can get the 3+ GOE on it like I said I wanted after Rostelecom. The Lutz is harder for me to pull off.  I've never even done it in competition."

"You keep trying to do it without the right set-up." The Russian pointed out, "The Flip is easy because all you have to do is skate backwards in a straight line. Maybe you should just turn the Lutz into a pattern, and always go into it with the same connecting move, rather than just trying to force yourself to remember what edge you're on.  All that effort means you're thinking about it too much, and that inevitably leads to you falling."

"A pattern?  Like what…?"

"Well, you do your Axels from an outside spread-eagle… Do your Lutzes from a deep 3-turn. Make that your muscle memory, so you always know you're on the correct edge when you toe-pick." Victor skated up close, leaning over his partner's back, hands coming up under the man's arms to gently pat his chest, "The less you have to think about it, the better. So...deep breath, relax, and try again."

Yuri nodded and slipped forward, moving around the short end of the rink to line himself up with one of the opposite corners.

"Go deep on your outside edge," Victor suggested, "Force it low so you can't accidentally slip onto the inside edge right before take-off."

Blades scratched along the frosty white surface of the rink, and Yuri started building speed. He eyeballed a part of the colored logo within the ice, marking a spot to take off from, and then changed directions with quick footwork; left forward inside edge, swiveling 180* to glide into a left backwards outside edge...low dip, right leg out behind, but not too high...kick down, vault off the toe, spin four times...and to his great relief, landed on his right blade with only a slight wobble.

Victor clapped, "Amazing, Yuri~! You'll do that perfectly in no time!"

.

"So what kind of food do you have in Russia anyway?" Yuri wondered, following his partner through the grocery store, watching him browse the meager selections of the International aisle.

"Nothing that's here." Victor answered, "Oh well. Only a few more days." He pulled away and started walking back towards the main aisle, keeping Yuri's hand close between them, "Even if I found something here, it probably wouldn't be the same anyway. I'll get you something authentic when we get to St. Petersburg."

"Still hard to believe I'm actually moving there." Yuri said, that 'seeking' look in his eyes that his partner enjoyed so much, "I always had this goal of skating on the same ice as you… But soon, I'll be training at the same Skate Club as you...with you."

"Hey, I'm looking forward to this too you know." Victor pointed out, bumping his fiancé's shoulder with his own.

"It's a little different for me..." Yuri explained, "You haven't exactly worshiped the ground I walk on since you were 12."

"Maybe not." The Russian agreed.

"What were you doing when you were 12 anyway?" Yuri wondered suddenly, "I only caught onto you when you were 16 already, and you had just taken the Junior ISU by storm, since you hadn't been in it that long beforehand.  Maybe only two or three years."

Victor hadn't answered.  The mood shifted a little; his left eye twitched a little under his bangs, although Yuri couldn't see it from his side.

Hazel eyes glanced up curiously, "...Did I say something?"

"Huh? No. It's nothing." Victor smiled, going back to his normal affect again, kissing the side of his fiancé's head lightly, "I just wasn't doing what I love yet. Call it 'Pre-ISU Victor: The Lost Days That No One Talks About Because There’s Nothing To Really Say.'"

"Oh..."

.

"Tadaimaaaaaa." Yuri called out, pushing open the front sliding doors of the resort; Makkachin barreled in beside him, shaking the snow off his fur as Victor came in as well. The big poodle barked twice and then bounded off out of sight.

"Okaeri, Yuri, Vic-chan." Hiroko called back, waving from the doorway of the far hall, "How was skating?"

"Good. We're gonna go upstairs and watch a movie or something." Yuri answered, pulling his backpack off as Victor did much the same, "Holler if you need anything."

"Haaaaaai."

"It's always so interesting to hear you guys talk to each other in your own language." Victor mused, putting his shoes away into one of the cubby-holes near the door, "I should try to learn it more.  Most people here already speak English so they all kind of defaulted to it when I showed up.  I hardly hear any Japanese at all."

"That's my fault." Yuri said, smiling nervously as they started heading towards the hall to the stairs, "Since this town isn't really known for anything but my skating, everyone automatically knew to use English once you got here.  They'd probably just respond in English anyway even if I spoke to them in Japanese first."

"Then I'll have to learn it from the Katsuki Clan," Victor winked.

"You'll be learning the Kyushu dialect then." Yuri informed proudly, "We talk slightly differently here than in other places in Japan."

"Fascinating~!"

Making their way to the upper corridors, Yuri pushed aside the door that lead to the family's living-room on the second floor.  After getting a few things set up, Yuri surfed through a dozen or more channels before the Russian had come back with snacks and drinks.  Each of them had changed into resort fare by then, intending to go soak in the onsen at some point before the end of the night.

"Find anything interesting?"

Yuri lifted his head a little, but then buckled down with the remote in his hand, "A million channels on satellite and I can't find anything I want to watch."

"Well, come and get comfortable then.  You can keep channel surfing until something catches your eye." The Russian pointed out, moving to sit within the 'nest' of pillows and blankets Yuri had made.  He reached back for the bottle of sweet-potato shōchū he'd swiped from the wine closet, and poured two small glasses.  By the time Yuri had turned around and sat on the blanket close by, Victor was holding the second glass out in offering.

"Oh, thanks." He said quietly, taking it in hand and then turned back to the television.  Yuri clicked a few more times on the remote, and didn't even notice as Victor snuck one long leg around him.  He yipped in surprise as the unseen leg suddenly curled around him and pulled him closer, squishing up the blanket where it slid across the hardwood floor and turned him slightly.  By the time the slide stopped, Yuri was half-facing the Russian, holding his glass up close to himself reflexively.

Victor just clinked the glasses together, "Kanpai, Yuri."

"Y-yeah, kanpai."

Victor downed his pretty quickly, and reached back for the bottle to fill it a second time, "One of the many things I'm glad about having come to Hasetsu for is this shōchū." He said happily, pouring the glass and setting the bottle back on the low table behind him, "Every place I've been to has its own unique drink, but I think I like this one the best."

"...Really?  You're not just saying that because I live here?" Yuri wondered, giving him a curious, if not skeptical look, "You can get shōchū all over Japan."

"But this stuff is made here.  In Kyushu." Victor pointed out, taking a sip before setting the glass down and reached again for the man in front of him, "I like Japanese plum wine, too, and I've gotten some ever since I first came here, years back."  He paused, looking up and away suddenly, "Oh look, there's a dog on TV that looks like Makkachin."

"Eh?" Yuri's head turned, seeing nothing of the sort, but abruptly felt hands go under his arms to spin him the rest of the way around.  Half a second later, his back was against the Russian's chest, and Victor was snickering to himself where he'd set his chin behind a shoulder.  Yuri side-eyed him, "You tricked me, devious Victor."

"Only to get you to turn around." He purred, moving his hands a bit further up his fiancé's chest, taking full advantage of the loose-fitting garment, and let his fingertips slip in underneath to touch skin, "I think it's better like this."

"I would've gotten here eventually." Yuri insisted, taking the tiniest sip from the shōchū glass still in his hand, paying no mind to those roaming fingers.

"You still get nervous." The Russian pointed out.  He leaned forward a bit and set his chin against the top of Yuri's shoulder instead, brushing his cheek against the man's neck, "I'd have thought you'd gotten used to me by now."

"Mmmhhh..." The tense figure mumbled, and brushed his own cheek against silver-grey bangs, "It's...not that..."

"Then what?"

Yuri hesitated, feeling a bit ashamed of himself, "Remember when you asked about my past girlfriends?"

"You had nothing to say about the issue."

"That's because there was nothing to say."

"I know." Victor answered pensively, "That's why I said I would get all your firsts, remember?"

"...Well, er, yeah...but..." Yuri stammered, "The longer this goes on, the more anxious I get that...eventually you're going to want to do other things...and I'm just..."

"Oh." Victor answered, and he lifted his head to look at the man more evenly.  Fingers came out of the younger man's clothes, and set down flat on top of them instead, "Well...I guess that's true...  I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" He worried.

Cheeks got darker, and Yuri looked back up to the television screen, "No...  I just...  I have this nagging feeling that I'm not the dominant one in this relationship, I guess?  And before you came along, it had never crossed my mind what it would be like to be with...another guy...  Our options are somewhat limited, and...so..."

“Limited?  Hardly!  There’s maybe only one thing less that we could do.”  Victor gave a reassuring squeeze with both arms, "But like I said before, I'll never do anything you don't want me to.  This is only the beginning.  It would be a bit unfair to expect you to go through all that when you're only days into your first real relationship."

"Victor..."

"I have to ease you into it; seduce you as only I can." He went on adoringly, much to Yuri's embarrassed chagrin.  The Russian leaned backwards, and looked on those rose-hued cheeks as Yuri tilted his head back to see him, "It's actually something I'm really looking forward to." He commented seductively, eyes half-lidded, lifting one hand up to play with a few strands of raven-black hair, "Some day, I'll get to be the first and only person to know you, Yuri.  What do you think of that?"

"...Just a bit sorry that I’m bringing no experience into this, and I have to leave it all to you."

"That's not what I meant at all!" Victor laughed, "I was thinking more along the lines that...it's as though you've been saving yourself just for me."  He went on, arms going 'round his partner's thin frame again as he hugged tightly.  He hummed a few kisses against Yuri's bare neck, "So it's still okay if I use my hands for now, right?"

A thousand things and more went through Yuri's mind; responses he could've given to what he'd just heard...but all he could do was rub his cheek against his partner's head, and pat the other side with one hand, "Thank you...for not being annoyed at me for not knowing how to do stuff..."

"Never.  Your innocence is actually quite endearing." The silver answered, daring to take part of that non-answer as something of an answer in itself.  He partly unwrapped his arms from that last hug, and moved one hand up to the bare skin over his partner's heart, gently rubbing his thumb over it as he felt Yuri's frame try to relax.  The television continued to play; he wasn't even sure what Yuri had landed on when his channel-surfing had been interrupted.  He wasn't aware either of the fact that Yuri wasn't watching it anyway.

Yuri felt where the Russian had started to lean back against the table again - and himself with it - the blanket shifting a little where it had been loosely pulled over the man's shoulders.  He heaved an anxious breath, but let himself settle against his partner's chest, taking solace in the protective warmth of his arms where they held around him. 

...No matter what we do or where we go, whenever he holds me like this...I feel safe...

He took another sip from his shōchū before he set the glass onto the floor, just past the edge of the big blanket, and brought the remote control back up again to continue where he'd left off.  He clicked through a dozen different news channels before finally bringing up TV Guide, and looked at the giant list of channels.  He was aware of the fingers going into his robe again, and didn't mind at all.

Victor just continued on with his soft and inconspicuous teases, and moved up some to nibble on the edge of one ear as he slid his fingers further inside the green spa-robe.  He'd already managed to wiggle the knot loose that held it together with his other hand, and suspected Yuri hadn't noticed.  It was only when the right side of the robe fell away, that Victor sensed Yuri realize what had happened.

A slight twitch, but nothing else... Victor thought, smiling to himself where his mouth deftly touched to skin just under his fiancé's ear, I wonder how far he'll let me go?  His smile turned a bit mischievous, Let's find out.

With Yuri sitting between his outstretched legs, Victor crossed them under the man's knees.  He lowered his attentive nibbles down the side of his partner's neck, and kissed at the top of one shoulder, then made his way back up again.  Yuri just kept scrolling through the TV Guide listings, holding up the remote like nothing was happening.  Victor nosed at one ear a little, and nibbled at the earlobe as he slid his hand under the remaining fold of the spa robe.  There was a slight flinch, but Victor moved his hand down, felt across Yuri's abdomen, playfully traced a fingertip around the younger man's navel before sliding that finger up the center of his sternum.

Yuri twitched again slightly when the hand came to rest over the center of his chest, knowing full well that his heart was pounding like a jackhammer just a short distance under his skin.  He didn't doubt that the Russian could feel it, and indeed he could.  Wandering fingers curved to go flat against the contour of his frame, and pressed down against it.

Shh...relax... Victor thought, holding his hand still for the moment, and continued the light kisses on Yuri's neck, It's only me...it's just my hands...

He watched Yuri's legs came up a little, and the remote fell to the blanket; Yuri could no longer pretend to ignore everything.  He felt a pressure against his chest as Yuri pushed back against him slightly, head tilting back against his shoulder, tilting away to open up more space for attention.  Victor was delighted at the gesture, and made good use of the moment, his kisses becoming a bit wetter as he licked at the skin as well.  He smiled wide when he heard Yuri gasp, trailing the tip of his tongue from shoulder to ear.  His fingers felt the arousal of one particular nub under the folds of green fabric still clinging to Yuri's frame, and decided to help it along.

Yuri twitched again, even vocalized a nervous breath as he exhaled, but gave no indication he wanted to stop, so Victor took his task a bit more seriously.  He extended his middle finger to circle around the nub, occasionally pressing over it on purpose.  Yuri gripped at the blanket, and Victor could feel that whole frame started to tremble a little, though Yuri did his best to keep still. 

"You okay?" Victor wondered, kissing the words against his partner's skin, "I can't tell if you're shaking because you like it or because you want me to quit."

"Nn-ngh..." Was all the answer that came.

The right hand continued gently, especially when Victor felt his partner's grip on his knees, in one moment holding tight, in another, sliding up his thighs and down again to start the process over again.  Victor half-opened one eye, peering through his bangs, and watched as Yuri's legs rubbed against one another where his knees had been bent upward.  He knew that there was only one reason Yuri would be doing that, and gently moved his left hand over towards them.  Fingers went between Yuri's knees, and he was surprised to find those legs parting as easily as they did, even if they didn't part that far.  It only took half an inch for his fingers to get between them, and he traced them down the inside of one thigh.  A few seconds at a time, a few inches at a time, he eventually got to the bottom of those legs, and felt the edge of the thing that had made his fiancé so squirmy.  Even though it was only the side of his hand that bumped against it in the loose, sweeping folds of those spa-pants, he knew what it was...and he didn't doubt Yuri felt it, too.

The kisses and rubbing continued, and the television continued to play, forgotten, adding a weird background noise to their little session.  With a few slides up and down those tense but permitting thighs, Victor turned his hand around, and moved his palm down again, careful to keep a feel on something so Yuri would know where he was the whole time.  He eventually found skin even, as the pant-leg was pushed down a little bit more with each pass.  When he got low again, this time it was the –thumb-side of his hand, and he extended it out, taking a chance to feel the length of the aroused flesh he'd brought around to temptation.  He pressed his thumb down against it, and Yuri abruptly clenched his legs together, pinning that hand where it was, and squeaked a surprised breath.

"Shh..." Victor calmed, kissing that sensitive spot under one ear, and cupped his hand reassuringly around the thigh that had captured it.  He rubbed his thumb gently, and soothed those tense muscles until the vice relaxed and he was free again.  There were still a few pulses of tension, as though those legs pressed against themselves with the pounding of Yuri's anxious heart.  But, Yuri hadn't given any indication he was ready to push that hand away, and Victor slowly moved it back down again.  The first test of his fiancé's resolve came then, and Victor slid three fingers very deliberately from well-between Yuri's legs, up the length of that hidden flesh, and then back again, this time with his palm pressing down to the tip.  When he pulled his fingers back again, he felt for the edge of the green spa-pants, but paused there, "Hm?"

Yuri's whole body clenched up suddenly, and his knees clenched tight.  He practically seized in the middle of a gasp, but Victor breathed a quiet laugh against his bare neck.  The small finger went under the edge of Yuri's clothing, barely feeling the subtlest beginnings of throbbing flesh and coarse hair, "You should let me help you with that."

"EEP.  NO.  NO NO." Yuri yelped, his face redder than ever before, and his glasses fogged up.  He flailed and protested, and his hands clenched around the blanket under them, yanking on it so hard that it pulled the whole thing right out from where they’d both been sitting on it.  Yuri fell forward with the massive comforter, thinking it would come down over top of him and shield him from sight, and it did...but so did Victor.  The whole thing seemed to happen in comedic slow motion.

Victor landed with his hips right up against Yuri's backside, even as the blanket finally came to rest on top of both of them, giving them cover for whatever might happen.  Still amused by the whole thing, Victor took it in stride, and brought his hands up to the crook of Yuri's legs, keeping him there, pressed against him, "Oh, is this what you wanted instead?  I thought you meant you weren't ready..."

"EEEEAAAAHHHH." Yuri flailed again, pushing away in a hilariously over-emotive panic.  The blanket finally came down over his legs as he escaped the man's clutches, and he glowered at the man dubiously, but only got an amused wink in response.  Saying nothing, Yuri held the blanket tightly around himself and literally caterpillared out of the room, sliding forward where his arms were curled under his chest, then brought his knees forward in turn, and repeated it until he was out the door.

Victor watched him go, propping his head up in the palm of his hand, elbow lazily set on the table where he'd twisted around, “Maybe I overdid it?” He wondered in curious amusement, a finger on his lip.  He then brought his free hand up to cup at the side of his mouth as he called out, "I'll have you begging for it one day!  Just you watch!"

"Maybe but not today...!" Yuri called back, his voice muffled equally from the blanket as it was from the fact that he'd gotten out into the hall and around the corner already.

The Russian laughed again at the whole thing, drained the last of his shōchū and rose up to go after the spooked skater.  He had a good idea where his young fiancé had escaped to, and indeed, found him stuck at the bottom of the stairs to the 3rd floor.  Victor crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall, smiling to himself where he saw the burrito with its 'head' pressed to the first step, "It's going to start to hurt if you don't do something about it." He teased.

Again, Yuri twitched at the suggestion, "What, so you're going to stand there and watch me?"

"Well, if you won't let me finish what I started..." He continued to tease, shrugging up his shoulders, "What else can I do?  I enthusiastically encourage you to enjoy it, even if you won’t let me do it for you just yet."

Yuri could do nothing but listen to the sound of bare feet coming up on either side of him, and felt two arms wedge under his sides.  He squeaked in surprise as he was hoisted upward off the floor.  In disbelief, Yuri found himself slung over Victor's shoulder, staring at the corner of the wall, "V-Victor...!"

"Back to our room we go." He mused, starting up the flight, "That's where you were trying to go, right?"

It was already awkward enough to be hefted up like a sack of potatoes, but Yuri's face just went red again when he spotted his sister come into view at the bottom of the stairs. 

She blinked at him, "...Yuri?  Were you the one that screamed?"

"M-Mari-nee-chan...!  Tasukete...!"

"Why are you being carried around like that?"

Victor suddenly turned around up, comically banging Yuri's head against the wall as he went, "It's fine!  I'm taking care of him."

Mari just leaned and crossed her arms, giving a smug look at her brother's expense, "You bagged a big one there.  You look like you're about to eat him."

One finger over the Russian's lips, but he just laughed, "That's not a bad idea!"

"VICTOR-" Yuri barked in terror, and started flailing again.  He couldn't wiggle far given how he'd wrapped himself up in the blanket, so all could do in the end was whack his head against the wall a second time.  He went limp, having rendered himself half-unconscious, and flopped against the Russian's back, eyes swirling.  Mari was almost in tears laughing, and she waved as they disappeared behind the wall on the upper floor.  Yuri finally came around again as Victor heaved him onto the big bed in the old banquet hall, dropping him with a soft thud against the bedding fluff, and curled up behind him right after.  He was still practically shaking with embarrassment, even as his partner was adoringly rubbing one hand up and down his back through the thick blanket.

“Can I stay and watch?” The Russian teased, feeling Yuri’s entire body twitch.

“I’mnotgonnadoanything!”

"So you’re just going to suffer it out?  How sad..." The Russian continued to tease.  He wrapped his arms around the blanket-burrito and pressed his cheek to his partner's back, "Maybe next time."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

It was the day before Japanese Nationals would start...and it was also December 25th. 

Despite the previous night's awkward air, Yuri had eventually settled down, and by the time his alarm went off, the only uncomfortable thing that lingered was the soreness in his legs from clenching them all night.  He roused quietly, gently slid through Victor's arms to find his phone, and cut off the alarm before it could even sound.  He set the device down again and looked around the room; it was cast over with the dull blue hue of the early just-after-dawn light.  The window behind their big shared bed was still open, and a few lights could be seen through the thin tree branches outside.  Makkachin snoozed in the crook of Victor's legs, head nestled right at the inside corner of bent knees, tongue-tip sticking out as the pup breathed softly in sleep.  Victor himself lay on his right side, left arm still clasped lightly to Yuri's waist, silver hair spread over the curves of a plush pillow.  His bare skin was white in the morning haze, but still warm to the touch even where it was exposed to the cool air.

Yuri looked on in wonder for a moment, ...We've been waking up next to each other like this for nearly two weeks, and I still get a flutter when I come to, seeing him there, he thought.  He could feel his heart skip a beat then though, and his cheeks and ears got a red touch to them as he clutched at his chest with one hand, I'm so embarrassed about yesterday...  He got so close to-  His eyes flinched and went wide, and the red color on his skin faded as all the blood drained from his head.  He looked down slightly, blanched, and looked away again, feeling himself slightly trembling, Of course it happens now, of all the times...

Victor stirred slightly, arms reaching forward to seek for the warmth of a distant body.  Yuri was quick to resume his prior closeness, but this time twisted around so wandering hands wouldn't chance upon an unfortunate circumstance.  He flipped entirely over, and sat sideways against his partner's hips, leaning down to nudge the man onto his back so he could rest against the silver's chest.  Victor was easy to persuade, and rolled to his back without so much as a mumble, but breathed a bit more deeply than before until he was settled again.  Yuri could feel his heart pounding, but didn't speak, and carefully set his arms on either of the man's sides in a half-hug, and lowered his head down to that pale, warm skin.  Victor's heart beat much slower than his own, blissfully unaware of Yuri's predicament. 

He won't find it here, not like this...not unless he goes after it on purpose...which I know he wouldn't...right?  Not after yesterday...

For a little while, Yuri laid there contentedly, feeling his anxiety subside with each quietly passing minute.  It was even better when Victor's sleepy arms came up around his back and held him there in return.  The cozy haze of their morning snooze couldn't last forever though, and when Yuri felt a hand go up to pet through his hair, fingers preening idly, he knew his fiancé was at least somewhat lucid.  Yuri dared not move though; he didn't want the moment to end.

"Mnn...morning..." The Russian mumbled quietly.

"H-hey."

"How are your legs?” He asked idly, though Yuri could only puff a quiet squeak of humility, “You went pretty hard on those quads yesterday...” The Russian seemed to clarify, “They must feel like jelly now." Victor wondered, cracking one eye open to look at the top of his partner's head. 

"N-not sure if they're jelly...but they are pretty sore." Yuri answered, turning to look up slightly, "I…uh…I should've used the roller before we left the Ice Castle."

"I can knead them out, if you want." The silver offered, sliding one hand off his partner's back and down his side, until he found one thigh, and glided his fingers and palm over the outside edge of it before letting his arm rest across the length of it, "Like a massage."

Yuri was practically glowing red, "N-no no, that's totally fine, I'm sure it'll get better as I walk around!"

Victor gave a tired but perplexed look, cocking his head slightly in the pillow like a confused dog.  He could tell something was off, but wasn't sure what, and resigned instead to try and dissuade his fiancé's nervous candor, "I give really good massages." He pointed out, speaking more normally, "There's no need to suffer in silence.  I'd really like to..."

Under absolutely any other circumstances, I'd let him do it in a second...! Yuri thought in a panic, feeling the nervous sweat starting to bead on his skin, He knows this isn't normal!  He can sense I'm not right!

"You could do like the other night when you sat over my lap," Victor suggested coyly, "Then you can watch me."  He raised his right hand up, "Scout's honor, no hanky-panky."

Yuri was screaming in his head, the urgent need to feel those hands rub out the agonizing soreness in his legs getting the better of his fear.  With a barely-audible whine, he pushed up from his warm spot and quickly snapped-up a pillow, making sure to keep it in front of himself as he tossed one leg across his partner's hips.  Maybe unconsciously, or maybe entirely aware, Yuri sat slightly lower on Victor's legs than he had before, making sure there was no chance at all that he could inadvertently sit on anything that could give him away...or even crazier, give Victor away.

I-I've never seen him aroused before...I don't think my brain could handle it right now...  I don't want to know... Yuri thought tortuously, twitching as he felt those hands press to the tops of his knees, then slide up against the length of his thighs.  With just his jet-black underpants on, those hands slid against bare skin, and the peach-fuzz that covered it.  Fingers worked at those sore muscles eagerly, but carefully, pressing thumbs into flesh as palms grabbed the rest, gently working towards the knees again.  There was an odd mixture of pain within the pleasure, enjoying every squeeze of those hands in principle, but wincing slightly from the ache of his overdoing it on the ice and…other things.  Yuri hugged the pillow against his chest and stomach, eyes clenching slightly with every new rub of pressure.

"The tops of your thighs are probably the worst," Victor pointed out gently, getting to the knots he felt in his partner's quads, then slowly started making his way upwards again, this time with thumbs slightly more against the inner thigh than the upper part of it, "And here..."

"M-mh..." Yuri affirmed stiffly, feeling every circular press making its way higher and higher on his legs.  When they passed the half-way point towards his hip, Yuri's legs pinched inward slightly in a tense twitch, Oh jeeze, this is just making it worse...!  Why am I going along so easily though?  Am I just torturing myself!?

"You okay?" Victor wondered, brow furrowed though his tone teasing, "Am I pressing too hard?"  He asked, eyeballing the pillow, And why do you have that thing anyway?

"No-oo...you're d-doing fine..." The younger figure answered breathlessly, eyebrows scrunched with anxious worry.

"You're hugging that pillow awfully tightly." The silver said, lifting one hand to poke a finger against the middle of the fluff, "I can barely see you.  You've got the high-ground advantage..."

One eye crept open, and Yuri looked down over the edge of the puff to see Victor there looking back up at him.  It only took a few seconds before he drooped his brow against the fabric and whined, "I'm so-sorry...  I just...  I'm-"

"Is there some problem?  You don't look bruised...but you're wincing..."

"It's...not that bad...  I l-like what you're doing..."

"Then...?" Victor asked, suspecting at this point but not wanting to be point-blank about it.  He dared to lower his pillow-poking hand back down to the thigh it had abandoned, but was purposeful in his placement, settling it quite high, so his thumb could press to the inner side of the pillow's frame.  He felt another pinch of those legs around him, and he finally caught sight of the bright red color on his fiancé's cheeks.  His expression softened and Victor smiled, "Yuri, let me help you..."

That whole embarrassed face came looking over the crest of the pillow, but Yuri couldn't even breathe, "V-Victor-"

"It's perfectly normal.  You don’t have to be embarrassed at getting excited around me." He explained, pushing up on one elbow as he moved to sit upright, "I don't want you to feel afraid when this happens.  It should be fun."

Yuri could only bury his face then, hugging the pillow harder as he whined loudly, muffled only by the fluff.

"I'll use just my hands, and I won't look." The silver offered, "The first time is always the scariest, but I assure you...you're safe.  I just want to help you feel better.  I know it hurts."

Another few tense seconds passed as those words rattled around in Yuri's head, but the longer he dwelled, the more obvious the pressure felt; the throb was starting to get a bit painful, and the pressure of Victor’s body against the pillow put pressure against his aching core.  His body was absolutely desperate for those hands to touch and slide, to hold and squeeze; phantom fingers were already wrapped around it, offering the sweet promise of relief.  Yuri grunted a nervous breath, and felt his head jerk through a worried nod.  The response was tender but immediate, and Victor wrapped his arms around him, giving a reassuring squeeze.  Keeping the left arm where it was, Victor moved the right around between them, carefully slipping under the very edge of the pillow's mass. 

Fingers just teased at first, making sure that Yuri knew every millimeter they advanced.  Their heat moved forward, the backs of the joints almost crawling up the front of the younger man's bare stomach, slowly and carefully finding the target of their sightless search.  It was hot to the touch, stiff and straight, and almost quivering in its tense hardness.  The wet feeling Victor had noted the previous afternoon was more obvious now through only one layer of fabric; it was warm and slippery, and dripped down from higher up.  The top of that arousal had escaped their black cover.  He wasted no time finding the rest of it, and heard Yuri gasp out a surprised squeak as fingers wrapped around, and one thumb pressed upward against prominent ridges of the slick tip.  Legs squeezed tighter, but then resigned to nervous shivering with the occasional twitch.  Victor carefully, but expertly worked that length of supremely aroused flesh, using every drop of that slippery fluid to his advantage.  Not surprisingly though, Yuri was put to the edge within seconds of starting, the sensation of foreign fingers around him being overwhelming.  Victor used his free hand to pull the pillow out from between them as his right kept at its business.  He didn't dare speak; he just let Yuri feel everything, holding him close as the younger man leaned into him and wrapped arms around his shoulders, face pressed down on one side.  He nudged in close to the younger man's face, nosing at one cheek, hoping he could coax those lips up...and to his joy, found them soon after. 

Though Yuri still clenched most of his body rather tightly, he longed for a kiss as well, and he dared to give himself enough clearance to find those warm touches.  Noses slipped past one another softly, and lips met tenderly, fingers continuing their slick strokes, gentle twists, and subtle squeezes.  Only a few more seconds, and the whole thing put him over the edge; Yuri soon found himself grunting a quiet gasp against his fiancé's lips, feeling the hot liquid spurt forth from his aroused flesh.  The pulse of it sent shockwaves through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and he partly collapsed against Victor's shoulder to catch his breath, legs twitching where they pressed to the man's hips.

Mercifully, Victor didn't question whether Yuri felt better now than before.  He just listened to those relieved heaves for breath, and felt the tremble of that thin body where it was wrapped around him.  It took all of Yuri's remaining strength to not just drop down and slide away, and Victor held him close, carefully giving that spent flesh a much-needed cool-down massage.  He adoringly felt every pulse of release that went through it, and the trail of hot liquid that slid down his fingers.  Every gasped breath was music to his ears, and he leaned into the crook of neck and shoulder to kiss that bare, damp skin.

.

The day after that seemed…oddly clearer afterwards.  The relief had sent echoes throughout the young skater’s body for hours. 

It…has to be because I got past that mental hurdle… Yuri surmised, pulling gloves onto his hands as he slid across the ice.  It’s like there’s fewer cobwebs in my head now.  I can see and think so much better now.  And I…  He looked up to see his partner on the rink-wall, pulling off the second of his blade-guards so they could skate together.  Cheeks flushed, and Yuri looked to his gloves again, pulling them into place for the 7^th time, …I want him to do it again…soon…

With all that settled in his head, Yuri did his best to perfect the quad Flip, still desperately wanting the 3+ GOE modifier on his score-card.  The more he did it, the better he felt about the whole thing...and soon, he was landing it without the slightest wobble in his landing blade.

"You have enough stamina to do four quads in the GPF Free Skate..." Victor noted, watching him from the center of the rink, still looking aglow with satisfaction from the morning, "Watching you here in practice...I think you could easily have six at Nationals."

"W-What!?" Yuri balked, "Six quads in one program!? That's two more than you've ever done!  Only JJ was ever insane enough to set that bar and even he messed it up in the end."

"You have more stamina than I do, and more sense than he has." Victor answered with a smile.  He skated a slow circle around his partner, blades pointed sideways in a lazy, wide, inside spread-Eagle, "Do 'Aria' for me. You remember how it goes, don't you?"

"How could I forget?" Yuri wondered sarcastically; he measured the strength left in his legs, and resolved to try it despite himself.  Victor gestured to the center of the rink, and Yuri moved into position, drawing a deep breath as he arrived in the middle of the Ice Castle logo.  He closed his eyes, and tilted his face down, setting one toe-pick behind the opposite heel.  He drew in a second, slower breath to compose himself, trying to remember how the music began...and slowly, quietly heard it playing in his mind, like it was playing in a cave far away...echoing in his head.  

He raised his eyes, then his right hand beside it, and dipped to the left to begin the dance.

Victor watched in silence, sliding along the ice to keep close without interfering. After Yuri cleared the quad Lutz, Victor found himself twitching at the same moment, as though his body had intended to jump as well, with only his coach's mind reminding him not to. He watched a moment longer though, and with the quad Flip cleared as well, Victor started to skate a little faster. Yuri was caught off guard as he skated past, only to find him joining the dance, moving in time a slight distance away, like so many practices of 'Eros' and 'Yuri on Ice.'

Yuri could tell the cogs were moving in Victor's brain, and continued on with the program without saying anything. By the time they were done, he was too tired to comment anyway. He finished the final scratch spin, raised his crossed-arms above his shoulders to enter the final pose, and quickly slumped to sit on the ice.  He gasped for breath, and rocked back on his skates to lie down. His legs trembled, and he felt like his lungs would burst into flames, but behind his thrumming heartbeat, he could hear Victor laughing, and he turned his head around to look at man.

Victor was off in his own world though, looking at him and yet through him at the same time.

What are you thinking right now, I wonder?

"I just had this idea." The Russian said, as though he'd read Yuri's mind, "Stay here. I'll be back in 30 minutes."

"Huh?" Yuri blanched; he had no time to react, and watched - or rather, heard - as Victor's skates clacked along the ice to slide him to the rink's exit. There was nothing he could do but continue to heave breaths as he lay on the ice. Soon thereafter, he heard more skates on the ice, but this time, the face that looked down on him was Yuko's.

"You going to make it?" She teased, and offered her hand to help him up. Yuri took it and hobbled back to his blades.

"I've thought for a while that Victor's a slave-driver...but I didn't realize how true it was until just now..." He answered, only to suddenly spaz and look around, "Wait, where are your kids!? They're not recording me are they!?"

Yuko laughed, "They're not here right now." She thumbed towards the exit, "They went to video Victor riding off on his bike. I think they were yelling at him not to fall off since it's icy out.  Where's he going anyway?"

"Not sure; he said he'd be back in half an hour though, so I'm sure we'll find out." He answered, rubbing the tingling sensation from his thighs before he started to slide around again. "Can you believe he just made me do like 15 quads in 10 minutes?  And all that, after how hard we've been practicing since we got back from Barcelona...!"

"He only made you do the last four, technically...but you did it though." Yuko pointed out, "Last year you could only do the Flip and Lutz when almost no one was looking. Now look at you. You can land four of the five quads in competition, you're an international Silver medalist, you own the world record for the Men's Free Skate, and you're engaged to your childhood hero. Millions of women and men around the world are cursing your name right now."

Yuri blushed and looked away with a nervous smile, "You probably understand what this is like for me more than anyone, Yu-chan...how completely impossible and unbelievable it is."

"We both grew up practically worshiping the ice he skated on." She agreed, "You even got that poodle and named him Victor."

"Vic-chan..." Yuri repeated, suddenly finding himself feeling a slight pain in his throat at the memory of his dog. He skated over to the rink's edge where a water bottle was waiting for him, and took a drink to try and calm the cramping, "No one ever really asked why I screwed up so bad last year."

"I knew." Yuko said quietly, and reassured him we well as she could, "Your parents should've waited to tell you until after the Final was over. I guess they just..."

"...Didn't understand..." He finished. "Maybe they thought they were doing the right thing by telling me as soon as it happened.  But...even before the Short Program, I was getting nervous.  I binged on food like an idiot. The SP turned out okay in the end, but then finding out about Vic-chan...  It was like I mentally forgot my routine...  My body tried to compensate...  I could hear myself screaming that I knew the moves, that I'd done them a thousand times...that I'd done them enough, and well enough, to be one of the Final Six, but all I could do was twist and flail and fall." He paused for a moment, "I talked to them on the phone after my last event. They told me there had been a public viewing and everything, but that...I'd just done so badly, no one wanted to look. I guess they were just trying to be honest, but they were so blunt...I couldn't take it. When I got home, I didn't even want to watch skating anymore.  I was so ashamed that I skipped Victor's Free Skate at Worlds..."

"That's because you were here, doing it for yourself." Yuko smiled, "Then the video of it went viral, and then he saw it, and came to help you. He could see that you still had that fire of determination inside you that wanted to skate, and he came to fan those flames."

"That's basically what he said, too..." Yuri looked up and smiled, "For all the humiliation of those early days...I'm glad everything happened the way it did..."

It would still be a while before Victor would be back. The childhood skating-pair took to the ice and skated loosely, like they had back in their youth, not trying anything too adventurous. Yuri gushed about his experiences on the competition road, all the people he'd met and sights he'd seen, and Yuko drank it all in to live through him vicariously.

"And up next...St. Petersburg!" She finished.

"Yeah!" Yuri huffed a nervous breath, "It's still so hard to believe!"

And with that...the lights went out all at once, sending the entire arena into pitch darkness, their eyes slow to adjust.

Yuri was stunned. They could hear the sound of numerous little feet running around them, but said nothing even as he heard his friend calling out for her kids to turn the lights back on. They seemed to be running with purpose though.

"This is all really weird." He finally muttered, "What are you three fiendish skating-otaku doing?"

With that said, a spotlight finally cracked on above them, bearing down and searching the surface of the ice until finally coming to stop near one of the rink-wall doorways. Through the light, the duo could barely make out the darkened shadow of a tall figure. It was Victor...wearing a long-coat again, looking rather much like how he did while acting as a coach...except for his hair. It had been styled like he was about to do a show. The soft thump of his skates on the floor became clacks as they set down on the ice, and the light followed him a few feet before they both stopped.

Yuri's eyes squinted against the spotlight in the dark, "...Why are you being all mysterious?"

The Russian finally reached up to pull his coat off, slowly revealing a particular costume from a previous Grand Prix series. Black pants, black thumb-gloves, white shirt, golden cords across the front and on the left shoulder...and a translucent wine-pink coat, shining like stars in the night.

"...Victor..." Yuri was entirely perplexed, but in a good way.  I've never actually gotten to see this costume up-close like this before...  Why is he wearing it though...?

Yuko had her hands over her mouth and nose, trying to prevent a gush at the sight of the man.

"It's only appropriate that we do this properly, don't you think?" The Russian finally said, starting to skate towards his fiancé with the grace of an angel. He reached out his hands and gently touched Yuri's face as he passed, heading towards the center of the rink.  A second and third light flashed on from above, and their beams converged on him as well, "I hope half an hour was enough time for you to recover."  Victor mused, tossing the long-coat towards the rink wall as he took his position, "Ever since you told me about how Christmas in Japan is like a celebration for couples, I've been wracking my brain for what I could give you.  I was really worried this day would come and go, and I'd have nothing to show for it.  So...I'm so glad I got inspired, even if it was at the last second.  Come, Yuri..." He said, and raised his hand out, just as he'd done in the onsen that first day, "Skate a duet with me." 

Yuri was blank for a moment, but his eyes suddenly shone brightly and he nodded.  He quickly pushed forward, looking back excitedly at Yuko before she turned and made her way to the wall.  He felt that welcoming hand take hold of his own, and Victor pulled him close.

"Happy Couples Day, Yuri." He said quietly, and leaned down the small distance to find a kiss.  Yuri's hands held to his waist, and he turned them around in place as the kiss went on happily.  They only stopped when the sound of frantic camera clicks and fangirlish screaming echoed from all sides, and the two nervously laughed, knowing all-too-well that those photos would be going online by the end of the hour.  Victor shook his head and smiled, but turned away from his fiancé to wave to the walls, "Girls!  Focus!" He called, and the shrieking immediately stopped, followed by a trifecta of apologies from the dark.  Blue eyes then turned back to Yuri, and he smiled, "Let's take position."

Yuri could only wonder how Victor had made such elaborate plans on such short notice, but remembering that Yuko had said her triplets followed the man out had quickly answered that question.  The music started to play loudly overhead, and Yuri lifted his head with the cue, feeling his heart trilling in his chest as he spotted Victor doing the same just beside him.

Sento una voce che piange lontano 
(I hear a voice crying far away)
Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato? 
(Have you been abandoned as well?)

In tandem, they landed the first of several quads; a Lutz, any semblance of their skate feeling like a regular practice was quickly out of Yuri's mind.  The dark made the whole thing feel official - it felt like a real Exhibition - and Yuri steeled himself for the second side-by-side quad.

Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino 
(Come now, let’s empty this glass of wine soon)
e inizio a prepararmi 
(I’ll start getting ready)

Yuri followed in swiftly, and heard Victor's toe-pick in time with his own.  The pink and black blur spun around in the air next to him, and they landed that signature quad Flip together, gliding off perfectly.

Adesso fa’ silenzio 
(Now be silent)

Another jump.  Their synchronization was perfection. 

Con una spada vorrei tagliare quelle gole che cantano d'amore
(With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love)

Camel spin.

Vorrei serrare nel gelo le mani che scrivono quei versi d'ardente passione
(I wish I could seal in the cold the hands that portray those verses of burning passion)

Flying sit-spin.  They both had their left arms up above them as they turned.

Yuko watched in awe of it; she could imagine her girls were recording every second from all different sides of the darkened rink. 

Yuri could almost hear the cheering of the crowd, and part of him stepped outside himself to watch the performance.  For a moment, he felt like he could understand what Victor saw; ideas coming to life, inspiration becoming reality.

Questa storia che senso non ha
(This story that makes no sense)

The song got quieter after that, and they rose from the spin, reaching for the sky in longing, and turned backwards in a slow circle.  There was a pause where they both stood still on the ice before using their toe-picks to push off, left arms out, reaching for something intangible on the horizon. 

Svanirà questa notte assieme alle stelle
(Will vanish tonight along with the stars)

They followed it with an inside spread-eagle, and moved off to build up speed again.

Se potessi vederti dalla speranza nascerà l’eternita
(If I could see you from hope eternity will be born)

Quadruple Salchow.  The music was about to enter a new crescendo, rising up with power that could be felt in their bones.  More than all that, though...Yuri could really see what the music meant to Victor now.  It wasn't just a tease at his legions of fans anymore, nor just words, spoken on the edge of tears while sitting in the onsen... 

It was their song.

Stammi vicino, non te ne andare
(Stay close to me, don’t go)
Ho paura di perderti
(I’m afraid of losing you)

Step sequence.

Le tue mani, le tue gambe,
(Your hands, your legs,)
le mie mani, le mie gambe,
(My hands, my legs,)
e i battiti del cuore
(The heartbeats)
si fondono tra loro
(Are fusing together)

Triple Lutz.

Triple Flip.

Partiamo insieme
(Let’s leave together)

Quadruple toe-loop, triple toe-loop combo, then the final combination spin, and as the last line of the song was sung, drums banged loudly like thunder overhead.

Ora sono pronto
(Now I’m ready)

Yuko had watched it all, and was mesmerized by them.  She could already sense that this impromptu performance would probably go viral, maybe even moreso than when it had just been Yuri the year before.  But for once, that probably wouldn't be such a bad thing.  Yuri had gotten used to the idea of having eyes and lights on him from the competition circuit, and with Victor already there, it would probably even make him happy to see their skate seen by so many. 

It's like this whole thing has come full-circle for you, Yuri...  She thought, smiling fondly at the pair, You skated this alone before, but now, you're getting to skate it here together.

The final few scratch-spins brought the pair back to their feet, and they rose into the final pose with their arms crossed, hands on opposite shoulders, elbows raised high.  Slowly, the song faded out, and Yuri panted heavily as he stood there, his legs threatening to give under him finally; they felt like jelly under him.  He forgot about them though as the lights started to come on around them, one section at a time, and he saw Victor skate past...no, around him; circling several times, clapping happily as he went.

"That was just like I'd hoped." The thrilled Russian finally said through panted breaths, "I think we can work with it."

"Why do I get this weird feeling you're plotting something?" Yuri wondered aloud finally, and wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his right arm.  Again, he flopped onto the ice to sit, and leaned back on his hands as Victor continued to skate wide circles around him. 

It didn't last long though, as the silver-haired man skated straight at him, and scooped him up by his arms, dragging him along the ice until he managed to get his skates back under him.

"Victor, what are you-"

"Pair skating." He finally said.

Yuko's eyes went wide and she gaped at the duo.

"P-Pair what?" Yuri gaped.

"The two of us, skating together.  Not just a solo program with both of us on the ice at the same time like a second ago, but one program featuring the both of us.  I thought I'd see how it felt in the best way I knew how."

"...But I thought you meant my five World Championships would be in Singles...?" Yuri was perplexed, trying to go along with Victor's moves but terrified he might just trip them both up with one wrong twist of his blades.  He'd never seen Victor fall on the ice and he wasn't about to be the reason it happened now, "I don't think the ISU would let two guys join the Pairs bracket anyway...all the rules are for a man and woman..."

"I've got my eye on an Exhibition Gala.  Something unofficial, something that isn't being graded or scored.  An announcement performance, to give people a taste of things to come since I'm not going to Nationals or Euros after all." Victor repositioned Yuri in front of himself, spun him 'round to put them chest to chest, one hand on his partner's hip as he held Yuri's left hand out ahead of them, and they slid across the ice in wide arcs, as though skating a waltz, "Are you up to it?"

Yuri's legs finally gave out and he dripped like water from Victor's arms, splaying out on the ice, face-down in a nervous sweat.  He hated not being able to answer right away, but he hated even more the thought that he'd say something he'd regret when he was so tired.

Victor went down on one knee and poked him, "Yuri...?"

"My heart...can't take it..."

"Yuri!" Yuko called out.  She hopped back onto the ice and slid over to him with his water bottle, and handed it over to the Russian's waiting hand. Together, they flipped the young figure-skater over to sit him up straight, and Victor poured some of the water over his partner's head.

"Have I finally found the limits of your boundless stamina?"

Yuri pushed his messy wet hair back with one hand and shuddered under the cold, "Oh yeah...a while ago...!  I don't think I have bones below the waist right now...it's all mush.."

His partner could only smile, always enjoying the sight of Yuri's eyes coming up to meet his, "I've pushed you to the edge today, I know.  Forgive me.  You surprise me every day."  Victor rose to stand again, and held his hands out to pick his fiancé back up off the ice.

When they'd finally managed to change and get ready to leave, Victor found himself having to carry Yuri on his back.  The youth's legs really were a ruin by that point.  He could feel them trembling where he held them up against his sides, with Yuri's arms dangling over his shoulders, hanging in front of his chest. 

Yuri turned his head from the road to look out over the water, seeing the sun starting to set at the horizon.

"Things will be ready in St. Petersburg by the time we're done with Nationals." Victor suddenly mentioned, bringing his fiancé's attention back around, "I know you've been wondering about it."

"I'd started to think you'd forgotten.  You haven't spoken a word about it since we got back..."

"There's been a lot to do." Victor confessed, "I didn't want to bore you with the details."

It piqued Yuri's interest though to think that it would take as long as it had to get ready for a simple move, "What're you having done out there?  It's not like my whole family's moving with me."

"Oh, plenty of things, don't worry.  You'll find out soon enough."

"Victooooor!!"

"I only just decided on the last details today.  Besides, I didn't want to leave Yu-Topia too quickly.  Once we leave, we won't be able to visit anymore hot-springs until or unless we come back.  As much as I want to get back on the ice back home, I want to enjoy the time I have left in Hasetsu, too.  You own a little piece of paradise, you know?  I like it here."

"...Paradise?" Yuri repeated.  He lifted his head to look around, not really seeing it the way Victor did, "I've lived here my entire life.  All I see is the same boring town that's almost never changed."  He thought on it a moment, "Well, I guess it has a little; the train has a raised track now...but most of the changes happened only after you first showed up."

"Wow.  Have I changed things that much?"

"I don't mean that the roads were repaved and the maps redrawn, but the energy here...it's different.  People take interest now."

"The grand tour of Victor and Yuri on Ice."

"Maybe." He agreed quietly, blushing slightly at the nod to his previous program.

"This is your place, Yuri.  Don't ever forget that.  No matter how long you're gone or what changes before you return, this is always home." Victor said pointedly, and shuffled a little to get him in a higher spot on his back, "I've just touched it a little bit, that's all.  Just like I've touched a little bit of you."  He quipped, and flicked his head back a little to nudge the man.

Yuri could only bury his face against the back of a shoulder in embarrassment, “Y-yea…just a little bit.”

"Savor all this while it lasts." Victor mused, looking back before looking ahead again as he walked, "We'll eventually look back on these days with fondness, and be glad that we took the time to figure things out.  For me, this is just the natural next step in helping you build confidence; that's actually part of why I asked you to skate 'Eros,' even though Yurio was asking for it.  I don't know that you would've ever come out of your shell if I'd let you do 'Agape' instead."  The Russian said, looking back over his shoulder again, and watched how Yuri was contemplating his words. 

Finally though, Yuri brought his arms up a bit and hugged closely to the back of his partner's head, "...Back then, when you asked me what I wanted you to be to me.  You weren't just kidding around when you said you'd act like a boyfriend."

Victor puffed a laugh, "No way.  After everything I've told you?  That was no act.  I was determined to seduce you, even if it took the better part of a year."

.

Makkachin had heard their coming and demanded to be let out, jumping through the sliding front door as Hiroko opened it for him.  The poodle went bounding for his people, and happily jumped around them as they came closer to home.  Once inside though, the old pup finally settled down, and Victor helped his partner get out of his winter garb.

"You boys were out pretty late," The Katsuki matriarch commented, "Are you all packed for the trip tomorrow?"

"I just have to grab my costumes," Yuri answered, "I should probably go do that before I get too settled into winding down for the night."

"Go ahead." Victor offered, "I'm going to go soak for a bit.  Come join me when you're done."

"Sure." Yuri nodded, about to step off, only to find a hand hook gently around his elbow to pull him back.  Another hand went around the small of his back, and before he knew it, Victor had planted a kiss on his lips.  He could feel his mother's sights on them, but the kiss was more important, and he let himself close his eyes for the few more happy seconds that it lasted.

"Okay, now you can go." Victor mused, releasing his surprised fiancé...mostly.  He still held onto a few fingers while he could. 

Cheeks were red, but Yuri didn't dare look to his fawning mother; he just nodded and smiled as well as he could despite his nervous tummy-flutters, "I'll come down soon.  Don't wait up for me."

.

Narrow green eyes saw the pair-skate video almost as soon as it went online, reposted by Victor himself.  Yurio glared at the screen of his phone with an expression that couldn't decide if it was jealousy or rage.  He didn't bother to throw the phone at the window this time though; he simply turned it off.  His feline flufferbutt seemed grateful not to be woken up; she was curled up and snoozing next to one side of the Russian Punk's waist.  Snow was descending in sheets outside in the night; the lights of the streets could barely be seen as yellow-white glowing orbs in the fog.  Those eyes then traced over to where his Grand Prix Gold medal hung with his historical trophies; there were boxes around him where he'd been unpacking.

'I'll win Gold and prove to you that its owner is incompetent.' He recalled saying about Victor's ring, standing on that cold Barcelona pier. 

It didn't even matter in the end.  Victor decided to come back to competition before I even won the fucking thing, and then barely acknowledged that I'd won it at all, Yurio thought grimly, fingers clenched over his arms where he'd crossed them, "I broke your record, asshole, and all you do is slink back to Hasetsu with the piggy?  Shameful...it's like you don't care about Russia at all anymore."

.

Yuri and Victor both sneezed.  Victor had already gotten settled into the onsen by then, but Yuri was still on the deck, and as he wrankled his nose to clear the itchy feeling, he couldn't help but feel that another sneeze was coming, "I guess...someone's talking...about us." He managed, but the second sneeze came anyway, and Victor seemed to do the same.

"...Eh?" The Russian tilted his head slightly, and pressed the back of one hand against his nose, "What do you mean?"

"It's an old Japanese joke that if you sneeze for no reason, it's because someone's talking about you.  We both sneezed at the same time, so it must be that someone's talking about us both." He explained, and slowly lowered down into the warmth of the spring, but then gave an uneasy smile as he waded closer, "...We sneezed twice each though, so it must be something bad."

"Psht," Victor scoffed, "Yakov, probably.  Cursing us both for me not being in Moscow right now."

"...I can only wonder how much pent-up fussing Yakov has in store for you." Yuri wondered with a nervous smile, feeling the soft slip of fingers weaving between his own as he got closer, "He hasn't had many chances to try and set you straight.  When we get there, you'll probably never hear the end of it, especially once he's finished dealing with whatever fallout there is from the RSF about you not going to Russian Nationals after saying you would."

"My mouth often goes before my brain." Victor agreed, but smiled anyway, and traced his fingers down each of his fiancé's arms - light as feathers - until he could cup them loosely around the back of his partner's head, and nosed him fondly, "You've seen that happen pretty often.  Yakov knows it from a lifetime of experience; there's not much he hasn't chewed me out for already."

"For some reason, I get this image in my head that Yurio learned how to ignore Yakov straight from you."  Yuri mused, and slid his hands forward and over his partner's shoulders.  He closed his eyes as Victor guided them both down into the water, floating weightlessly in the mineral-rich spring.  He could feel that Victor was slowly gliding them backwards, and his body went limp, pulled soundlessly through the subtle wake they both made.  Eventually, he felt that they'd come to a stop on the rim of the spring, and Victor anchored his lower back to the edge of the underwater bench - just enough that they wouldn't float off again - and held him close.  With Victor's shoulders just above the water's surface, it made the perfect perch for Yuri's head, and the younger man slid right into it to claim it, the rest of him still floating in the still waters. 

All was quiet in the onsen; peaceful, even.  The bubbling of the fountains, and the subtle sway of bare winter tree-branches on the other side of the walls.  It was sublime in its serenity.

Yuri felt the soreness in his overworked muscles melt away, and let himself have a moment to just be in the moment.  The silky softness of Victor's arms where they curled around his back to hold him in place, the heat of the man's neck against his brow, and the subtle tickle of damp silver hair as it traced lightly across his cheek.  Feeling a little brave, Yuri pulled his right hand back from where it was holding to his fiancé's frame, and slid it softly over the man's chest, watching the warbled image of his fingers under the water as they treaded gently over every curve.  Each side was meticulously charted in Yuri's mind, distorted-though as it was by the ripples of the water.  He felt everything though, one or two fingertips at a time, slowly moving up until he could feel the water cresting on his skin.  He wondered if Victor was watching or just feeling him as he went, but was too wrapped up in his process to look.  Warm water cooled and dripped from the heel of his hand, and his fingers traced up and across the ridges of each collar-bone, then back again, and up the Russian's neck.

"Hmm...how interesting; you didn't even ask permission first." Victor teased quietly, lifting his chin up as those fingertips made their way up under his jaw, "I can only hope this means you're starting to get more comfortable with things."

“Maybe a little bit," Yuri answered coyly, keeping up his dawdling exploration of that neck, “And I want to take my time.  I rather enjoy looking you over."

"Well, I do like to think I'm an acceptable specimen." The Russian teased.

"You're more than acceptable..." Yuri mused happily, moving his fingers aside to brush against those lips with his thumb, and moved his palm to rest against the side of his partner's neck, thumb sliding against the cheek, "You're perfect."

"Ah, pfft, next to you, I'm average."

Yuri blanched slightly and sat up normally, face red, "A-average!?  Victor-"

The silver sighed a quiet laugh and lifted up onto the bench behind himself, but then lifted his eyes to the clear black sky, sparkling with stars.  For a moment, he went quiet, cerebral even, but then relaxed slightly, keeping his eyes skybound, "When I told you that, for practically my whole life, I never thought I'd leave St. Petersburg...only to end up here in Hasetsu, and be reminded of home because of the seagulls...it made me realize that home can be anywhere, really.  The sky looks the same here as it does there."

Listening quietly, Yuri was a bit perplexed, but lifted his eyes to the stars as well, hoping to glean something from his partner's words.

"It's just as vast, and endless to me as it is for everyone else." Victor went on, "And really, in the grand scheme of things, being what I am, who I am on this rock floating in space...what difference does it make?  I'm a popular speck, on a rock...in a vast, cold, empty abyss.  I want more than that...  If I'm nothing but a speck, then I want to try and be as happy as I can be."

"If you're a speck, then I'm a speck, too." Yuri pointed out quietly.

"But to me, you're so much more than a speck." The ponderous silver corrected, turning back up to the heavens, "People have looked to the stars for millennia for guidance, admiring their beauty, and creating entire pantheons of gods, constellations, and legends from them...  So much attention is focused on what's out there that we sometimes lose sight of what's important down here.  Being back in St. Petersburg after Worlds last season, the sky was just empty and black.  I was kind of forced to look around myself, to try and find value in what was closest, because pretty soon, no one would be looking up to me, the way we look to the stars.  Then I saw the video of you doing 'Aria,' and suddenly, I had my own shining star to look at; brilliant, resplendent even."

Yuri turned his eyes down, and saw his rippling reflection in the water.  He felt fingers thread around his hand, and then close around it, giving it a gentle squeeze; he returned it easily.  Focused on the feeling of that warmth around him, Yuri looked up slightly, and saw those blue eyes on him.  He couldn't help but utter a nervous laugh, "Is this your roundabout way of saying you think I'm hot?"

Viktor sputtered a laugh, and sat a bit more upright.  He pulled his fiancé's hand out of the water and kissed those wet knuckles, "That's exactly what I'm saying."

.

They parted ways where the doors to their two bedrooms diverged, with Yuri gently insisting he'd return to their shared room shortly; each of them carried their skates up for final packing.  Victor was sure to get a parting kiss before Yuri could get too far, and even though the younger of them was only going to be a few feet away for a few minutes, he insisted on a long hug, too.

"I'll be waiting.  Don't stray too long."

"It's just my costume bag.  I'll be right behind you." Yuri insisted, though he didn't exactly try extricating himself too enthusiastically.  Victor slowly released his arms, and Yuri trailed away through his narrow doorway, letting go only at the very tips of their fingers.  Yuri huffed a quiet laugh at the whole thing, but soon turned his attention to what he'd gone into his room for; his last luggage bag.  It was huge and covered in travel stickers, old flight tags, and a few poodle decals, and it already contained most of what he needed for Nationals.

Yuri pushed open the lid, let it flop down onto the nearly-naked bed, deposited his skates securely into one carefully-arranged open corner, and went over to his closet.  His costumes were hanging there as they always had been, and he pulled them down, folded them over one arm...and spotted a familiar sight on one of the shelves behind where they'd been.

Oh...it's all my old posters...

He put the two garment bags into his big rolling suitcase, and went back to the closet, lifting the stack to look at them after such a long time.  He knew the details of each photo, almost as well as if he'd been there to take the pictures himself.  There was the one of Victor walking in a Russian park, with that same puffy black jacket and grey sweatpants that he'd worn in Hasetsu.  There was another of Victor sitting on a proverbial throne, decked out like a Victorian era rockstar...or maybe a subdued Anne Rice vampire.  Then there was the one of Victor in the black, leather-bound Short Program costume from the year before, with the chains that hung around his core.  There was even-

"Yuri?"

He looked up and put the posters away quickly, spotting Victor there in his doorway as he popped out of the closet.  Frantically, he grabbed a few empty coat-hangers before he stepped out again, pushing the door closed with his heel as he went back to his suitcase, trying to look natural, "Oh, h-hey!" Yuri stammered, dropping the load on top of his clothes.

"It's been a while.  Did you get lost in there?" Victor said, then blinked at him, "...Do you need that many coat-hangers at Nationals...?"

"W-well...uhm, I mean...in St. Petersburg?"

"Oh...  Okay." The Russian managed, "Don't take too much longer?  We have to get up early for the movers tomorrow, so that leave less time for us to enjoy the rest of the night."

"They're not gonna be here that early..." Yuri said, and made a face.

"Anything earlier than 11am is early."

Brows were raised, but Yuri watched the silver leave the room again, and listened to the three or four steps it took to get to the banquet hall.  He swallowed a breath of relief and looked back at his suitcase, took a mental tally of everything in it, and closed it, "...That should be all of it."  He hoped quietly, and latched the few clasps around the lid.  With hands still on the hard plastic, Yuri reconsidered the words his partner had just uttered.

...To enjoy the rest of the night... He thought, It's Christmas Day, Victor's birthday, and Couple's Day...  He's already given me something to remember, but what have I done...?

In his own room, Victor ran his fingers through damp, steely-grey hair like a comb, turning around just in time to spot Yuri pulling that big suitcase into the room, "Ah, got everything?"

"Think so." He answered, setting the travel-case by the door, and pushed the sliding panel closed.  He looked around the room as he approached the foot of the big bed to sit down, "It's really weird to think this is going to be our last night here."

Victor smiled, and went to sit beside him, "We've been abiding by this routine, in this place, for so long...even I'm starting to get anxious about going back to Russia again." He commented, and placed his palm over his fiancé's nearest thigh.  He gave it a reassuring squeeze, as much for Yuri as for himself, "I know St. Petersburg really well though...I'll show you all the amazing things that are going on.  This is a spectacular time of year to be all touristy out there.  You'll see."

With a happy nod, Yuri put his own hand over the one pressed on his leg, turned to find a kiss, and pressed his brow to his partner's fondly, "I can't wait."

Victor smiled, and nuzzled adoringly for a moment before he pushed up from the bed to stand again.  Hands went to the loose knot at his hip, and he peeled out of the resort robe as he started to wander back to his side of the bed, "I can still feel 'Aria' in my legs...  I must've gotten out of shape being a coach these past months."

Yuri followed suit, undoing his own robes as he moved to his own side, and pulled his arms from long green sleeves, "You must have a great metabolism if you're still thin despite it all.  Unlike me..." He huffed, and smacked both hands to his bare tummy, "I get fluffy if I even think about taking a break."

"I won't let that happen." The Russian reassured, folding the short pants to go with the jacket, and put them both onto the edge of the blue corner-sofa nearby, "We'll both get right to work when we get to my home rink, and push harder than ever to be ready for Four Continents and Worlds.  Even harder than these last two weeks."

"You're sure they'll even let you go?" Yuri quipped, and slung his own clothes over the headboard on his side, "The RSF was pretty mad that you left in the first place."

"They'll forgive me.  They always have." The silver answered with ease, "Even Yakov is warming up to me again.  He only called me an idiot twice in his last email."

"...Only twice...?" Yuri gaped, finding it hard to believe that the two were all that close when Victor's coach was so rough with him.

"I wonder where Makkachin is?" The Russian suddenly asked, putting a finger on his lip as he looked towards the closed door.

"It's still pretty early, all things considered.  He's probably downstairs."

"Ah...yeah, you're probably right.  Shouldn't we leave the door open a crack so he can get in later then?"

Yuri watched the man go, words caught in his throat.  The door shifted slightly to the side - only a few inches, enough for Makkachin the nudge his way through if he stuck his nose in - and Victor walked back to the bed. 

Covers were pulled up, and lamps turned off on that side, and the exhausted five-time World Champion slithered into the coolness of the sheets with a happy shiver.  Blue eyes turned, "What'er you waiting for?  Come in~  I need a good cuddle before sleep."

"Oh..." Yuri muttered nervously.  He pulled his eyes from the crack in the door and reached for the two long-necked lamps on his side of the bed, and pulled the blankets back...only to pause before getting in.

"What's the matter?"

He hesitated, but a flutter inside him made him go back towards the door, and he pushed it closed.

"...How's Makkachin gonna get in...?" Victor asked blankly, confused.  He followed Yuri's footsteps back, but the man stood on his side rather than his own, and blue eyes looked up, "...You're acting weird suddenly."

"Uhm..." Yuri stammered, his face red despite there having been literally nothing obvious to inspire it.

Thoroughly perplexed, Victor pushed the blankets off his legs and pulled his knees up, and gestured through the open space, "...Are you trying a new path to your side...?"

The look on Yuri's face made it seem like his brain broke.  He drew a breath in through his nose to gather his courage, and made a really weird expression - probably one of determination; probably - and he leaned down to grab the Russian by his shoulders, twisted him slightly, and leaned in to a less-than-graceful kiss. 

Victor's eyes stayed open in confusion, even as he felt himself being pushed over.  Yuri had managed to keep contact in that kiss as they tilted, but it felt incredibly awkward when the younger man tried to get on top of him, given that the rest of him was still twisted to face the foot of the bed.  Though on his back, sort of, when Yuri started to lift off of him again, Victor tried to smile, but he could sense it wasn't convincing.

"...Jeeze, that didn't work out like I'd hoped at all..."

"Y-Yeah..." Victor stammered nervously, "I feel like you meant for that to go differently."  He added, pushing up onto his elbows as Yuri moved to sit on the bed a small distance away, "...What were you...trying to do...?"

Hands went to cover Yuri's face, and he shook his head into his palms, skin glowing red under them, "I was...trying to give you a good birthday, Christmas, and Couple's Day present, but I...don't know what I'm doing..."

"Oh!" Victor realized loudly, only to feel relieved, and then elated, "That's so amazing~!  Yuri~!" He cooed, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his partner's nearly-bare frame.  He gave a bit of a seductive look then, and spoke tantalizingly close to one ear, "...Sorry, I probably could've helped that be less awkward.  Let's try again."

Yuri blanched a bit behind his hands, but spread his fingers just as he felt his partner's words turn into a breathy nibble, and the arms that were wrapped around his small frame pulled him further onto the bed.  His heart ramped up, and he could feel it fluttering in his chest as he was practically deposited onto the blankets, and Victor loomed over him, and the realization that something was going to happen made his coherence falter.  All he could do was sputter his partner's name in confused protest.

"Relax; deep breath." Victor suggested through an endeared laugh, simply lying down next to the man, stroking his hand across that pale chest, "I think I kind-of understand what you were going for."

"Idon'tevenknowwhatIwasgoingfor!"

Victor puffed a laugh, "And that's okay, too.  Just the idea that you were willing to try is incredible.  When I said earlier that there's so much more we can do...I didn't think you'd be wanting to start so soon."

Yuri just breathed out an exasperated breath, brows furrowed in dubious reconsideration, "I j-just...r-reeeaaally liked..." He stammered, unsure how to finish without it sounding dumb, "...I liked...how you u-used y-your ha-"

"Oohhhh!  I see~!" The silver said excitedly, hoping to ease those suddenly-frayed nerves, "Do you want to do more of that?  I'd love to."  He asked, spotting a timid nod, and leaned down the last inch or so to press into a new kiss.  The hand he had on his partner's chest could feel the rise of a full-body clench, and the thrum of an anxious heart thumping away just below the skin.  He held there though, offering light, gentle kisses, and innocuous strokes of his thumb over that bare skin, waiting patiently for his partner's anxiety to fall away.  Kisses moved from lips to cheek, chin, and down Yuri's neck, walking a few nibbles down to the younger man's collar-bone.

He's been totally true to his word, and I want to do this again; why am I still so anxious...? Yuri thought, swallowing nervously as he wondered whether the Russian would go further this time.  It almost wasn't a surprise when he felt those lips press down on the center of his chest, and felt the tickle of damp hair drag lightly across his skin where it was starting to collapse into its usual place over the man's left eye.  He drew in a quick breath, but then realized it wasn't a scary feeling at all, and with the exhale, he let the rest of himself relax.  He knew Victor could feel it; the nibbles on his skin began anew, and started to explore uncharted territory.

Victor followed those physical cues like a dance, knowing when he had to improvise and go off-plan.  Muscles tensed as he neared the edge of his partner's chest, coming precariously close to a particular pink nub, so he veered from it for the moment, and the tension faded again.  He walked his kisses across the other side of his partner's chest instead then, and slowly made his way back up.  By the time he'd reached his fiancé's lips again, he'd tilted himself slightly over, and pressed the front of his larger frame against Yuri's side.  Like in Barcelona, he bent a knee over the man's legs, but unlike in Barcelona, where Yuri had stayed still throughout it, Yuri actually twisted onto his side...and pulled that overlapping knee between his own.

Hazel eyes looked forward for approval, and Victor gave it in spades, smiling wider as he felt one hand move forward, slipping between his arm and ribs.  The pressure he felt drew Yuri nearer, and Victor could feel that his partner was more at ease than before. 

This is still familiar enough... Victor thought, I've teased him with this since Rostelecom.  The only difference now is that we're skin to skin...

It surprised and delighted the Russian to feel the hand move from the side of his back, down to his waist, small finger barely grazing the edge of the one piece of clothing he still had on.  He returned that touch in kind, and moved his own hand down along his fiancé's frame, familiar kisses easing the tension.  He cupped his hand around the younger man's hip, then stroked his hand upward again, and continued that way until one finger, two fingers...all fingers were touching that thin black fabric.  Yuri only flinched the tiniest bit as those fingers cupped around the curve of his back-end, and so Victor continued on, stroking his hand all the way around that curve, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

Yuri pulled back from the kiss when he felt it, and looked into those blue eyes. 

Victor just smiled brightly though, and nuzzled the tip of his nose, "You have a very nice butt."

"I...erm...  Uh....ehhh...  Th-thanks?"

He offered a gentle laugh, and moved his hand back up again, "This is going pretty well, I think...you're not near as tense as you were before."

Yuri stammered in his thoughts, but he knew somewhere in his head that Victor was right.  Nervous as he was, and as little physicality he'd allowed in his short life, the attention that the Russian gave to him was far more pleasant than anything he'd gotten before, even by accident.  He shook his head to clear the torpor, and tried to rationalize the concept, "...It...I...uhm...  It's...really nice...what you're doing."

"Is it?" Victor purred, drawing in closer as he slid his hand back down again, this time moving his fingers under the fabric to feel gently at that unseen skin.  He could hear the stunned gasp, and felt the slight clench of that muscle, but the more he felt at it, and the more he kissed, the more he felt it relax.  Yuri clung to him a bit tighter, and the one leg started to crawl up the outside of his thigh with each new squeeze.  Victor playfully started groping for more, laughing a few kisses against his partner's neck, but a few fingers suddenly went a bit too far around the curve between those two cheeks and Yuri practically thrust his hips forward with a yip.  Victor kept his hand where it was though, hoping the surprise would fade, but that flesh stayed tense, and Yuri's face was brighter red than before.

"I...I didn't..." He stammered, "I'm not r-ready to...go there..."

"Ah...I wasn't going to do that, but I understand." Victor answered easily, sliding his hand back to safer territory.  With fingers back over the fabric, he slid his hand down towards the leg that had raised up over his own, and gave it a gentle pull, "Where did you want to go?"

The higher his knee went, the more Yuri could feel the leg that went between his, and his nerves kicked up again.  He clumsily pulled free of the whole thing, only to warily lift that same leg over his partner, and to Victor's surprise, actually sat down there.  Unlike in the morning, Yuri didn't avoid anything, and he sat directly over his partner's hips, clenching his eyes shut in embarrassment, "Uh...oh, I...I can feel you..."

"I hope you can.  You're sitting on me." Victor teased, and moved his hands to rub them up and down the tops of the thighs that straddled on either side of his waist. 

Yuri just groaned, "You know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean." The Russian mused.  It pleased him to no end that Yuri had gotten up on top of him on his own, but it was still endearing that Yuri was so embarrassed about it, pulling the palms of his hands up to cover his face, "This is actually my favorite position," Victor reassured, and rubbed those legs a little more, "I can touch you with both hands like this, rather than needing one or both to hold myself up."

Yuri parted two fingers to peer through them, and gawked at the man under him, "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do up here.  I feel dumb now."

"Don't," Victor reassured, and gently started to move his hips, "Let me show you why I like this the best."

Yuri was momentarily mortified by the feeling.  He knew innately that there was no way to avoid arousing his partner, but still, feeling it was so much different than imagining it.  Feeling it here, like this, he corrected in his mind, "Nhg..." He grunted quietly, not even really aware that he'd done it, feeling that length of hardened flesh moving under him, up against him.  He drew a sharp breath, and lowered one hand to his partner's stomach, holding himself steady as the gentle rocking continued.  There was no way to change course now though; Yuri could feel himself starting to respond, and the direction it started to take, still confined in his clothes.  He wasn't sure if Victor could feel it the same way, or if he could see it instead, but the indirectness of that arousing touch was starting to become a torment.  Despite his nerves, Yuri wanted something more, even if he was too terrified to say so, and he moved himself to change where the rocking rubbed.

Mercifully, of the many things Victor had learned over the eight months since his unexpected arrival, reading Yuri's willingness to engage in things was top among them.  He knew how to get Yuri to skate 'Eros,' and work him up from thinking about food to thinking about him.  He knew when Yuri was willing to accept a full hug rather than just a pat on the shoulder.  He practically knew the instant that Yuri was receptive to the idea of a kiss - even if he'd said no to it at the time, it wasn't because he didn't actually want to; it was just the wrong time.  The concept was still tested and true.  He knew what he could do...and one of those moments had come.

Victor pushed up onto one elbow to lift himself up at an angle, still softly rocking his hips as well as he could.  He slid his free hand around the man’s side and up towards one shoulder, cupping around the side of neck and cheek to encourage him near.  Yuri obliged, leaning forward into a kiss as Victor dragged him down into the blankets.  Yuri went easily, and he gasped a whined breath against those lips as he felt everything between them so much more clearly.  There was no way to stop either of them from breaching the confines on their meager clothes by then, and elastic gave way to the pressure. 

Feeling the obvious difference between fabric and skin, Yuri's eyes opened wide in surprise, but the kiss went on, and so did the rubbing.  It was hard to ignore how good it felt, even if it was something Yuri never expected to experience.  Every time Victor's back arched just right, his abdomen lifted, and the pressure of having that sensitive flesh squeezed between them was enough to send the first few tingling jolts through Yuri's frame.  The embarrassing-but-expected trickle of clear fluid appeared, too, getting things a little bit slick between them

“Mh…that’s more like it…” Victor purred, wiggling a bit from side to side as well to help spread it around, right before his partner nervously sat up and away from him again, "You’ve got a gift," The Russian commented quietly, "I’m not sure why you’re so worried about it."

Yuri sputtered an anxious laugh, having raised his knees a bit over his partner’s core to avoid that ‘leak’ from being seen, “Erm…I m-may have let the internet give me a bad idea or two…”  One pale hand came gently down on each of his thighs as he spoke, giving them a gentle squeeze so he’d relax and part them again.  Yuri gulped nervously as he let his knees go back down to the blankets at Victor’s sides, and felt one of those hands return to press against his stomach, dangerously close to the source of his anxiety.

“Don’t let the internet spoil your innocence.” Victor said, trying to calm him, “Just be here in the moment with me.” 

The feeling of those fingers slowly going down his stomach made Yuri lose his anxious focus a bit, succumbing to the seductive touch.  He hissed a longing breath at the first sensation of pressure against his center, even if it was just one finger, and it slid down gently over the fabric.  Three fingers pressed down on the return slide, traveling over the elastic band and over the super-sensitive exposed tip.  He gasped a breath, knees pressing in against the Russian’s ribs.

"How does this feel?" Victor asked, watching each breath go in and out of the younger man.

"D-Don't stop-" Yuri finally managed, "I w-want to...  I just can't help..." He said between haggard breaths, "K-keep going..."

It was a huge relief to hear those words, and Victor nodded.  He found one of his partner’s hands and brought it to his lips to kiss those fingers, then let it go again to attend to its task, moving softly, slowly, and let Yuri himself decide how much to show.  Victor went about his purpose with diligence and care, letting his partner get used to the slide of a few fingers before adding his thumb, giving a soft squeeze through the fabric.  Yuri sagged his head, gasping a breath every few seconds like he was holding it between strokes.  When those fingers finally took hold though and pulled his flesh free, he gasped a loud, breathy moan.

"Hmmhh..." Victor answered, taking meticulous mental notes about the tension of every muscle, and the gasp of every breath.  He didn't expect his partner to be all that vocal - at least not yet - but every whimper and grunt was key to the 'sexy time' lexicon he was building.  Slowly but surely, as Yuri got used to the feeling of someone else's hands on his tender bits, his body became less like a fully-drawn bow, and more like one that was just nocked.  Nocked, and ready for more.  Breaths became more regular, and came easier, without the sense of needing to hold it in like Yuri thought he'd drown otherwise.  With every subtle change, Victor felt more at ease with their newfound intimacy and his curiosity about his partner’s ticks grew.  The excess of fluid that Yuri had been so worried about was an afterthought by then, and for Victor, he considered it their perfect normal.

Yuri twisted in place after a while though, his arousal fully engaged, and his seated frame started to tilt to one side, “I…I can’t hold myself up like this…anymore…” He managed to whisper between strokes.  No longer as red as he'd been, Yuri could look at the man again.  All the while, Victor kept up his rhythm on the member in his grasp, the sound of the strokes amplified by the slickness Yuri had given them, "What about y-you...?" Yuri finally let himself ask.

Victor blinked at him as though he'd entirely forgotten what the words meant, but before he could translate it in his head, Yuri had spoken again.

“Y-you’re doing all this for me…but you’re…you’re not getting anything out of it…?”

“Aren’t I?” Victor cooed, and hummed a smile, “But if you mean this…”  He briefly let go of the hot length in one hand, and slid his thumbs down alongside himself.  They hooked into the strip of black elastic on either side of his waist, and with a quick wiggle, he pushed the fabric down a few inches, revealing an equal measure of himself in the process.  He smiled at the color coming back on his partner's cheeks, and as Victor returned to take the younger man’s arousal in his hand, he also pressed their lengths against each other…there was no doubt that they each thought the same thing right away.

Skin-to-skin felt better.

Yuri hid his face behind one hand for a moment, drawing in gasped breaths as he absorbed the new feeling, and tried to sort out the fact of it in his head.  When Victor started squeezing and sliding his hand again, and brought the other around to help, Yuri couldn’t help but lightly bite down on one of his fingers, all but gritting his teeth at the alluring jolts of pleasure that went through him with each turn.  Both hands came down to the Russian’s chest, arms getting weak against the intensity but doing their best to keep him upright.  It wasn’t long before the strength in them began to fail though, and Yuri started to lean down, putting his elbows into the blankets beside his partner’s chest.  He found a nose-tip nuzzle there, and a soft kiss soon after, even as those hands continued to squeeze and rub. 

Victor found himself rewarded by this, and felt that lithe, athletic body starting to rock against him.  It was subtle at first, barely noticeable even, but Victor could feel the sheets moving at his sides where Yuri's knees pushed further out, and in doing so, pressed even heavier onto his hips.  Even just a little of that precious self-made lube was enough to make the slide that much more titillating.  Victor pushed his hips up, and Yuri slid back against them, then in reverse until they'd found a rhythm.  Even when the pressure was enough to put Yuri near his limit, Victor did whatever he could to prolong the moment.  Blue eyes watched closely for his partner's creeping edge, and slowed for a moment...but as soon as he felt his own nearing, the delicate work of trying to make them hit it at the same time was key.  Two beams of slick, aroused flesh rubbed up and down against one another, hot and hard and throbbing.  Yuri unconsciously moved his hips a little faster than before, bending to the will of the urge, the need to feel the end.

Of course, Yuri’s zeal meant it tipped the scales, and Victor could do nothing to curtail his partner's climax coming first...though he did relish in watching it.  The desperate gasps, the whined panting, the whole-body shiver, as well as the drip of hot white liquid onto his fingers; just witnessing it was enough to push Victor to his own climax.  Silver hair tousled on the comforter, and he pressed his head back, trying to keep his whines of ecstasy dampened; didn’t need the whole resort knowing what they were up to…yet.  For Yuri’s sake anyway.  He could feel Yuri's thin frame tremble as it came to rest on top of him, and then his own subtle shake as he lifted his arms to wrap them around, but found it harder to do than before.  It was as if all his strength left him, and his arms were noodles.  He hummed a laugh into his beloved's hair though, "Happy Couple's Day."

Yuri lifted his head, though the effort it took was significant, and then dropped it down again, sweaty brow pressed to damp cheek.  Still heaving for breaths, it was all he could do to not fall asleep right there and then, "...H-Happy Couple's Day."

"This was a really great idea," Victor mused, stroking the length of his partner's back as Yuri lay near-catatonic on top of him, "I've gotten to touch you in a way no one else ever has or ever will." He whispered, "That look of the first time in your eyes...that will always be mine."

"I'm...glad it was you." Yuri answered quietly, his heart still pounding in his chest.

Victor smiled at that, and gave one more squeeze around the younger man's trembling frame, "Me too."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

"Yuuuuri!" Hiroko was calling from downstairs, "Yuri!  Vic-chan!  Get up already!"

The younger of the two grumbled a little as he stirred, rubbing his eyes...but then fell back asleep again.

"YURI GET OUT OF BED."

"AH."

His mother's voice sounded much closer that time, though still distant enough that she was at least outside their shared room rather than in it.  He was up with a start either way, pushing himself to sitting so quickly that his partner's arm got tossed where it had once been draped over him, landing in the heap of blankets.  It wasn’t hard to notice that Victor was entirely naked, and Yuri felt like a bucket of cold water had been splashed on him; the worry about his mother barging in was now a far second to what was in front of him.

Ohmygod we really did it last night.  He thought in a slight panic, feeling his heart jack-hammering away...only to slow down again almost as quickly as it had gotten started.  Wait...why am I so freaked out?  Nothing is wrong.  I can’t be anxious about something that already happened.

Victor stirred just a little, rolling from his side to his back.  He hummed a little something to himself in a sleepy haze, but appeared to go right back to sleep.

Yuri smiled, scooting closer until he could rest himself across his partner's chest, one arm curled under himself as the other came up to settle on that rising and falling frame, fingers curled just in front of his nose.  He listened quietly to the man's breathing, the beating of his heart, and savored in the warmth of his skin.  He only turned his head a little as he heard the sound of scratching at the base of the sliding door...and then - even worse - footsteps thumping up the hall just beyond the walls.

"YURI."

"I'm awake!" He called out, forcing himself upright again, and hoping beyond all reason that his mother wouldn't just barge into the room; he braced for it just in case though.

"Is Vic-chan in there?"

"Of course he's in here; it's his room."

"Is he awake?"

"...I dunno, maybe?"

"It's nearly 10am.  You two should be awake already!  The movers are going to be here soon!"

"Nearly 10am!?  Why didn't you wake us up sooner!?" Yuri was up right after that, scrambling for the pieces of his green spa-robe as he hobbled for the sliding door.  He fumbled for his phone, and saw 9:58 come up on the screen.  Did we sleep right through my alarm, or did I entirely forget to turn it on?

"I tried!  I was hollering for you an hour ago!" Hiroko said, "Did you at least finish packing?"

"Yeah!" He answered.  He pulled Victor's spa robe off the headboard and closed it over his chest as he neared the exit, and opened the door just enough to get out; Makkachin wormed his way between his legs to get inside, and Yuri just watched the pup go.  With a heave of a sigh, he looked at his mother, who just gave him 'that' look, "What?"

"You're not finished at all are you?"

"...I think we are!" He insisted, "All we left unpacked were the things we need to take with us to Nationals.  I made sure of it last night."

"Just like you made sure your alarm was on?  I hope you have your soap and shampoo." She pointed out, "You stink."

One eye twitched furiously at the sound of those words, and Yuri just backed up through the doorway again, and fell inside without another word.  Landing with a thud on his butt, he quickly closed the panel with one foot.

"I'll make you boys breakfast after the movers are gone.  For now, go clean up!"

"Haaaaai." Yuri heaved, looking up at where he still had a foot on the doorframe.  He waited until he could no longer hear his mother's footsteps, heading towards the stairs at the end of the hall, and descended.  Once the sound was gone, he flopped down the rest of the way down to the floor...only to tilt his head back and find Victor smiling back at him, holding his chin up in the palm of his hand.  Makkachin was up on the bed next to him, and they both looked at the frumpy heap on the floor.

"Ohayo, koibito."  The Russian mused quietly, his Japanese spoken with the added spice of his own native accent, "O genki desu ka?"

Yuri hadn't expected to be spoken to in Japanese by the man, so it was confusing for a moment, but when he finally understood what his partner had asked, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed up onto his hands and knees.  He crawled over the few paces between them, pushed himself up onto his knees to make-up for the height difference of the bed, and answered the inquiry with a kiss and a nuzzle, "Genki desu."

"What did I miss?" Victor asked, nosing his partner back affectionately, "I only really woke up when you fell into the room a minute ago."  He explained, reaching up to cover a yawn.

Cherry-hazel eyes watched quietly as Victor pushed up on his hands and sat back in the blanket pile; as usual, caring nothing for being completely exposed.  Yuri shook his head, "It's already 10am.  Movers will be here in the next little while.  Mom says we lost breakfast privileges until after our stuff has been moved.  We should get cleaned up and get out there before they show up."

"Noooooo not breakfast privileges!" The Russian stretched as he whined comically, and let his arms slump down lazily above his head.  He nodded though, and rubbed his face a little, "Are you ready for this?  You're been worried this whole time."

"Mh." He answered, "I was only nervous about a handful of things, but after last night..."  The words trailed as Yuri's face got pink, but he found no need to finish the sentence as he felt a warm hand come up under his chin.

"No more worries then?"

Yuri barely shook his head, smiling, "I'm ready for just about anything now."

"Perfect." Slate blue eyes half-closed, "That's just what I like to hear."

.

By the time the pair were ready and headed outside, Makkachin was already barking up a storm, tail flailing back and forth excitedly as a huge CedEx box-truck turned into the small parking lot in front of the resort.  Yuri pulled on the dark blue coat that Victor had gotten for him just before their trip to Barcelona, and threw a scarf around himself as well. 

Victor was close behind, yawning again where he stood shoeless just inside, but perked up as the cold winter breeze brushed across his face.  Wearing only a loose-fitting thin sweater and sweat-pants, he clearly wasn't about to go all the way outside like his partner was.

Yuri did all the talking, hearing the workers speaking in Japanese rather than English for once, and did the same in turn so everything went smoothly, [Yeah, everything is in boxes with your shipping logo.]  He explained, pointing in though the open sliding doors, [There's a few more boxes upstairs still, but we'll bring them down for you.]

[Sure.]

There were three workers that went by them after that, one of them stopping to get a signature from Yuri to confirm the destination address, and then followed in after the others with a label-gun in his other hand.

"Well, I...I guess that's it then." Yuri said in English again, turning to look at where Victor was leaning against the doorframe, and approached to stand close by, "You can stay and watch, or..."

"I'm hungry." The Russian said simply, an aloof smile on his face, "Let's eat something."

The first boxes were starting to get hoisted out through the doors on hand-trucks, wheeled through main entrance-way and under the resort arch towards the waiting mechanical lift at the back of the truck.  Seeing their things being stowed away made butterflies tickle inside Yuri's gut, but Victor wouldn't let him dwell on it, putting an arm lazily over his shoulder.

"Hungry." He said again.

"Mom said she'd make something for us once the movers were gone..." Yuri explained, stepping inside just long enough to push his fiancé towards the common room, "Maybe she'll take pity and feed you early.  I'll get the boxes from upstairs and join you soon."

"But I want to eat you." Victor said hazily, still half-asleep apparently.

"...Eh?" Yuri stopped dead in his tracks, snow crunching under his shoes as his face turned red, remembering the crude jokes that had passed between the Russian and his own sister the previous week, "Don't you mean you want to eat with me?"

"Silly Yuri." Victor said, still giving him a sly look, "You're the tastiest pork-cutlet fatale in the whole world, and I've barely gotten a sample..."

Yuri quirked a skeptical brow.

Victor turned around and stepped closer, though cautious of where the warm inside floor changed to the frozen cold step.  One hand went onto the front of each of Yuri's shoulders, then he leaned in close, giving his fiancé a quick peck of a kiss by one ear, "I meant exactly what I said."  Glasses fogged up, but all Yuri could do was stand there and listen to his partner having a good laugh at him as he stood back upright.  Victor waved as he turned around to go to the common room finally, "Come eat when you're done."

When the silver was gone, Yuri reached for his face and pulled his glasses off, grumbling as he used his scarf to clean them.  As he set them back in place, he spotted a henna-pink blob out the corner of his eye, and turned to spot his older sister there snickering at him, "Mari-nee-chan..." He said dully.

"I wish you guys were staying a little longer, little brother." She teased, "It's so funny watching your reactions to everything.  You're such an innocent."

The aforementioned younger brother just grabbed the scarf again and wrapped it fully around his head until nothing but the white glare off his frames could be seen, "I'm going to get the boxes from upstairs."

Mari just pat his shoulder as he walked by.

.

By noon, the only thing left to pack was Makkachin.  Victor hugged the poodle tightly, and squished those fuzzy brown cheeks, “Be good for the trip back.  Yakov will pick you up as soon as you land, okay?  Try to warm him up so he doesn’t yell at us when we get there.” He asked, and rubbed the dog’s head one last time before coaxing him into the large grey kennel.  Makkachin pawed at the prison door as it was latched behind him, and whined pitifully, but it did no good, and Victor snuffled and waved as the crate was carefully wheeled away by the movers.  With the pup safely strapped in, the CedEx truck finally pulled away from the resort, and the skating duo stood on the street to watch it go.  They had with them all their remaining belongings; backpacks with Yuri's skating gear, both of their skates, travel supplies and a few changes of clothes.  It was all they'd need to leave for St. Petersburg right after Nationals.

"I'm a bit nervous about sending Makkachin ahead with all our stuff, but...it wouldn't be easy to sneak him into the hotel." The Russian said, a pang of sadness in his voice as he continued watching.  He only turned away when the truck was out of sight.

"Yeah...  It'd be hard to take care of a dog of while competing."

"Let's head to the Ice Castle." Victor said, holding Yuri's left hand with his right, "Yuko said there was a class until 1, so they should be done by the time we get there if we start walking now."

Yuri nodded, and the pair started heading towards the road bridge.  The winter winds were colder as they crossed, and Victor stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, taking Yuri's with it where he held on.

"So how much colder is it than this in St. Petersburg?" Yuri wondered aloud, his nose and ears getting a bit red from the brisk afternoon air, “Worse than Moscow?”

"Oh, much worse." He answered, "I'll buy you some proper winter gear though once we get there.  St. Petersburg is wetter because of the Gulf, and the weather changes pretty frequently.  Plus, the wind…the wind, Yuri."

"How soon do you think you'll know if the RSF is sending you to Worlds?"

"Pretty soon after Nationals.  I have plenty of time to get ready though since I’m not going to Euros either."

"How are you going to get ready?  Do you have programs in mind?  Costumes?"

"I'll just use one of the programs I arranged before deciding to be your coach.  'Eros' and 'Agape' were only two of the four programs I was mulling over last year."

"Oh...there were four?"

"Yes...the Four Loves." Victor explained into his scarf, snow crunching beneath their feet as they continued on, "Eros, the erotic love.  Agape, the unconditional love.  Storge, the empathy bond.  And Philia, the love held between close friends, or soldiers.  I was working on ‘Eros’ and ‘Agape’ mostly, but I had ‘Philia’ at the back of my mind...I just wasn't really feeling it yet.  You know as well as anyone that you can't properly tell a story on ice if you aren't invested in it.  Yurio's 'Agape' always lacked a little because he couldn't keep his greed in check, even though I coached him on what to do."

"Philia...the bond between brothers in arms; forged in hardship, or common cause..." Yuri echoed, thinking on it.

“Because of where I was in my career, moving forward felt like I was under orders; forcing myself.  I ended up not wanting to do it that way.  But then I got to thinking about ‘Storge’ a lot, too, being around you and yours.” Victor added.

"The empathy bond.  Parent and child, siblings…family.  What was holding you back...?"

"To me, family meant impatience, loss, suffering, and amnesia..." Victor answered curtly, "But by the time I practiced it here in Hasetsu, my mind wasn't on that page anymore.  My understanding of the family bond changed drastically, and seeing what it was like for others."

Yuri balked, surprised by the dour admission, "Why would family mean something so dark for you...?"

"It just does...and because it was so different from Eros and Agape – concepts I understood well and felt myself - it put me in a rut."  The silver answered with a shrug, "It’s not really true suffering, I know, but as an artist, I was in anguish."  He squeezed Yuri's hand where he held it in his pocket, "Which is why I'm so glad your friend's kids posted that video of you.  Being here with you has given me so much inspiration~!  I could plan programs for the next 10 years if I thought I'd be in the game that long!"

"You do tend to be pretty impulsive when you've decided on something." His partner agreed, stepping closer to hold to Victor's arm with his free hand, "Is that what happened yesterday with 'Aria'?"

"Sort of." Victor said cheerfully, "It was just so much fun to skate it beside you, after telling you what it meant to me.  It just...seemed right.  And ‘Philia’ is coming together so well in my head now; I’ve found my common cause, and overcome hardship.  I can’t wait to put it all to practice back at the old rink.  I think the music is really great, too…a perfectly thunderous ensemble to herald my return to the ice."

Yuri gaped suspiciously, giving half a wry smile, “That sounds ominous.”

“I will not go quietly into that good night,” The Russian said matter-of-factly, “And if I have to miss out on two other competitions between now and Worlds, then I want my one Short Program for the year to be one that people feel in their bones.”

“That still leaves ‘Storge’ though.”

“I’m percolating on it.” Victor nodded, “But I’m working on a better understanding of how to feel and express those kinds of bonds.  Maybe I’ll never have my own bloodline to see examples in, but once you and I are officially official, and we have the actual paperwork to go with it, we’ll have our own little family.”

Yuri looked up a bit, quiet for a moment, but then shook his head, “Some words on a page won’t change who and what we are to one another though.”

“No, but it’ll be the moment we can call ourselves husbands, and that’s different.”

"Husbands." The younger man echoed.

"Exactly right.  Say it over and over, until it loses its meaning when you speak it out loud, and it doesn't look right when you write it down." Victor went on, "Say it so often that you have to start saying it in Japanese so you know what you're even talking about.  ...What is the word for it in Japanese anyway?"

"There's a bunch, actually...  'Shujin' is one most men use when referring to themselves, but that implies 'lord' or 'master.'  Most young people go with 'danna' or 'otto' now.  What's the Russian word?"

"Muž." Victor answered happily, "And we will be muž’já."

"...Moosh...mooshya..." Yuri tried, his attempt at a Russian pronunciation falling flat.

"Perfecto!"

.

Half a hundred pictures were taken by the triplets when Yuri and Victor arrived at the Ice Castle.  Yuko was a bit emotional, knowing that Yuri wouldn't be coming back to Hasetsu after Nationals, but Nishigori was all encouragement and well wishes.

"We wanted to see if we could skate one last time before we leave." Victor said, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Never!" Yuko said enthusiastically through her tears.

The whole bunch of them ended up on skates after that.  The 'event' itself was incredibly casual; sliding along in wide circles at a leisurely pace.  Yuri held to Victor's hand for most of it, and the girls held to a corner of Victor's long coat, dragged around the ice rather happily.  A few times, the pair broke off to skate a bit faster, but they were never far apart from one another. 

Yuko noticed how well they synced, able to execute several complex maneuvers without so much as speaking to one another.  She supposed they each knew what moves were coming based on the position they were in when entering them.  Once in a while, she recognized a few short cuts from different programs the pair knew.  Victor even started performing 'Yuri on Ice' for the fun of it, which inevitably brought tears to Yuri's eyes, even without the music.  Yuko consoled him on the sidelines as the girls recorded it.  Never to be outdone, Victor performed the program flawlessly, including that signature move at the finale, with one arm raised, reaching for his fiancé. 

The thought then occurred to Yuri though, "Being able to do my program so well, you could've outdone your own record, too.  Do you plan on trying to retake it at Worlds?"

"Of course." Victor purred, pulling Yuri back out onto the ice as he caught his breath, "I won't go easy on you just because I hope you win Gold.  My fans and sponsors won't be happy if they think I'm pulling punches."

"No, that makes sense." Yuri agreed, "It's going to be a really rough season.  With you coming back, Yurio already a Gold medalist, and probably JJ getting over himself...never mind all the other talent."

"You were in warm-up mode until almost the very end." Victor pointed out, "The others were really trying.  Yurio even had to start taking risks to beat you.  Imagine if you started taking risks!"

Yuri's mind went on to do just that, but all he saw was the rink wall when his face collided with it at the Japanese Qualifiers.  He shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Maybe."

"We should probably start packing it in..." Takeshi said, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes as he went to round up his kids, "You guys should be getting to the train station."

Yuri looked at the time on his phone, "Wow, almost 7 already.  Is there anything left to do before we leave?"

"We're missing one person to say goodbye to."

"Oh, Minako-sensei?" Yuri said, "She said she'd meet us at the station.  I can tell her we'll be there in half an hour if you can't think of anything else we need to do." 

"You left your 'Aria' costume here yesterday, Victor." Yuko pointed out, coming onto the ice again, "You probably don't want to leave without it."

"Oh wow, no, thank you." He said, surprised at himself, receiving the suit bag with care, "I'll just have to bring this as a carry-on, I guess."  He folded it and clipped the bottom of the bag to the hanger-hook to make it as small as possible, then turned back to Yuri, "All that's left then is saying your final goodbyes to your family."

As they all started to head off the ice, packing their skates away for the last time, Yuri's anxiety started to creep up again.  It wasn't a fearful sort at least...it was a happy and excited sort.  He was last to leave the Ice Castle though, before Takeshi turned from where he held the door open to lock up once they were gone.

Yuri and Victor stood in front of the Nishigori family, smiles all around, "Thank you all for everything you've done to help get us to the GPF." He said, and bowed to them.

"It was our pleasure." Takeshi answered proudly, "Ice Castle Hasetsu is always happy to welcome you."

"We're going to miss you, Yuri!" The triplets chanted together, stepping forward to give him their goodbye hugs and well wishes.  They then turned to the Russian, and Loop nervously asked on all their behalf, "Can we call you Uncle Victor?  Since you're marrying Yuri."

"I'd love that~!" He answered enthusiastically, kneeling down to embrace the three of them.  He kissed them each on the cheek in turn, "Do svidanija."

"Mom, take a picture for us!" Lutz begged, waving her phone excitedly for Yuko to take.

Victor pulled Yuri into the picture, standing in front of the lights of the Ice Castle as they picked up the girls for a better shot, and all five of them smiled brightly.  Victor even pulled out his own phone and had Yuko take the same photo for his own sake.

"Let me take one of just you two." She offered, and the triplets quickly vacated the spot to clear the frame.  They clambered to their mom's legs with their own phones out, ready and eager to take pictures for their Instagram page.

Victor pulled his fiancé closer, holding both of his hands in his own for something of a formal photo.  When that was done, he pulled Yuri against his chest and threw his arms over him, rubbing their cheeks together for another photo to post on his own Instagram.  He held his fingers out in a V-shape and smiled brightly, "Yay!  Hashtag #JapaneseNationals and then #BackToRussia!"

Yuko laughed and gave Victor his phone back, "You two are adorable.  I can't wait to see what you have planned for your big comeback."

The group could see the lights of a taxi coming towards them, and they knew that time was up.

"Yuri..." Takeshi started, holding out his hand to the younger man.  When the skater took it, he pulled him forward and patted him firmly on the back, "You've come a long way since you were a chubby little kid.  Broke a world record and scored a good-looking foreign fiancé, too.  But you still have so much more that you can accomplish.  Don't come back until you have Gold, okay?"

Yuri blushed, but nodded, "I'll do my best."

Yuko then stepped forward, and hugged her life-long friend tightly, "He's right.  You've achieved so much since we used to copy Victor together here at the Ice Castle.  I want you to win Gold, but more than that, I want you to have fun and enjoy yourself.  If you can't say you like what you do anymore, then it's a waste, right?  Love what you do, and love those you do it with.  You'll go far."

Yuri actually started to tear up at her words, and rubbed his eyes with a free hand as he hugged her goodbye, "Thank you, Yu-chan."

As the taxi parked, Victor started moving towards it, taking Yuri's hand to pull him along.  It was bittersweet to be leaving the Ice Castle, and Yuri felt rather somber then.  He took one last long look at it - and Hasetsu Castle on the hill high above it, glowing golden in the night sky - before getting into the back seat behind Victor, and waved to the Nishigori family as the car started to pull away.

"Take care, Yuri!  Take care, Uncle Victor!"

"You tooooo~!"

When they were out of sight, Yuri pulled out his phone, just waiting for the triplet's fanpage to update.  Instead, and perhaps because it took less time, Yuri spotted something else.

v-nikiforov
[picture]
v-nikiforov One last skate at Ice Castle Hasetsu before going back to St. Petersburg.  I'm sad to be leaving these amazing hot-springs, but so relieved I'm taking a special souvenir home with me!             #LeavingHasetsu #LifeAndLove #SkateHusbands #JapaneseNationals #BackToRussia

The formal photo of them just holding each other's hands came up with it.  Yuri's eyes welled up as he looked over at his fiancé, seeing him with his phone out as well, the glow of its light illuminating his face in the dark cab. 

Victor reached over and squeezed his hand, "You're a very emotional person.  It's quite endearing."

"I told myself I wouldn't cry while saying bye to everyone, and then this gets me." Yuri muttered, wiping his eyes with his free hand, "I thought you'd post the other picture; the silly one."

"I will later, but I liked this one better in the moment.  It's like a wedding photo."

The cab driver suddenly piqued his head up, "I'd heard you two were getting hitched.  It's news all over town."

Victor beamed and proudly held his ring-hand up for the man to see in the rearview mirror, "Yep!"

"Congratulations."

"Spasibo!"

Yuri looked over nervously as Victor sat back in his seat again, "Are you really going to make me wait until I win Gold somewhere important before we can have the wedding?" He asked, "I might not even win one.  We could be waiting for years before it happens, if it ever does.  You know I'll get nervous competing against you."

"You broke my record, and I had won Gold when I set it to begin with," Victor pointed out, "I think that's cause enough to go ahead and make plans."

Yuri's face lit up, "Really?"

"Naturally."

"Where will we go?"

"I was thinking of going back to Barcelona.  It seems the most natural place, unless we come back here."

"Will one of you change your names?" The cab driver wondered.

"Hmmm..." Victor thumbed his lip, "I hadn't thought of that~!" 

"Yuri Nikiforov..." Came a whisper.

Before Victor could really respond, his phone started buzzing loudly in his coat pocket, catching him by surprise as he pulled it out, "I wonder who'd be calling this late at night?" He asked himself, looking at the Cyrillic text on the faceplate, and suddenly got really excited, "Zdravstvujte!  ...Da.  Da.  On gotov?"  He paused only long enough to hear the answer, and somehow looked even more excited, "Dostavit’ ego v moj dom.  My budem tam vo vtornik.  Spasibo bol’šoe!!  Do svidanija."  He clicked out of the call and put the phone back where it had been, only to turn his head and grin at his partner, "Now I can't wait to get back."

"What was that all about?"

"You'll see."  He answered coyly, "You were saying, though?"

"Oh...I was saying...I like the sound of Yuri Nikiforov...  My first name already sounds pretty Russian, but adding Nikiforov to it...  It's like it was...meant to be?  I don't know.  I just couldn’t imagine Victor Katsuki being a thing.  Sounds weird."  He laughed nervously.

Victor smiled, and then reached his arm over his fiancé's shoulders to pull him close, "Meant to be." He echoed, "I like that."

By the time they pulled up to the resort, the snow was starting to fall again. Goodbyes to his sleepy family were easier than they were with the Nishigoris - he'd done it before, after all - and with the last of their luggage stowed in the taxi's trunk, the pair were soon on their way again.  It was only a few more minutes before they arrived at the train station. 

Minako was waiting for them, looking a bit disheveled - like she'd gotten out of bed to be there - but it turned out that it was just because she'd been drinking a little.  Yuri knew she'd taken a taxi herself to get there, so he put his hand on Victor's shoulder to have their own taxi wait a moment so their driver could take her home again.  Victor paid the man and asked that he wait, which he was happy to do since Victor prepaid for that trip as well.

"Yuri..." Minako said proudly, though with an air of sadness to her tone, "You're leaving this town to go train abroad again.  It may be another five years before you come home."

"Maybe." He answered sheepishly.

"I'm counting on seeing you at Four Continents, okay?  To show me what you've learned, since I won't be able to make it to Nationals on such short notice."

"Mh!"

Minako nodded, and then turned to Victor, "You've been a bachelor for years.  I remember all the days you were so liberal with your flirtations to the millions of fans you have around the world.  But even with all that, you came to Hasetsu and claimed this guy as yours." She thumbed at Yuri like he wasn't there, which made him blush again, "What are you going to say to all of those ladies and gentlemen whom you've spurned?"

"I love all my fans." He answered easily, "I can only hope they continue to cheer me on, and Yuri, too.  They all cheered loudly enough when I knocked him over at Cup of China."

The tired ballerina smiled, and then reached out with her right hand to cup the Russian's pale cheek.  She rubbed it lightly with her thumb, and nodded again in approval before pulling it away, "Take care of him."

Victor smiled, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek in turn, "I promise.  Do svidanija."

"Davai.  Both of you.  I'll be cheering you on from Yu-Topia."

The Russian pulled Yuri close with an arm over both shoulders, carrying his costume bag over the other, "Spasibo!  Our cabbie will take you back home, so don't worry about calling another."

"Bye, and thanks for everything, Minako-sensei.  I'll keep in touch!"

"You better!" She waved, watching them go until she could no longer see them through the train station doors.  Once they were gone, she got into their cab and settled in for the quick drive, but pulled out her phone to check Instagram.  First on the list was a post from the triplets' account.

victuri
[video]
victuri Victor Nikiforov skates 'Yuri on Ice'
#YuriOnIce #VictorOnIce #IceCastleHasetsu

She watched the video, not even realizing the music hadn't originally played when the footage was taken; Victor was so cued in to the song that he skated it in perfect time even without the beat to follow.  As she scrolled on, she saw a photo of Yuri and Victor with the girls in front of the castle, and then finally below that, Victor's own photo post.  That image brought happy tears to the ballerina's eyes.

You two are so perfect.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

After a quick train-ride from Hasetsu to Fukuoka, the duo were waiting in the terminal of the airport.  It was nearly 10pm by then, and Yuri was trying to get a little sleep, leaning against his fiancé as they sat near the connecting tunnel.  The plane hadn't taxied in yet, so there was still a little while yet to wait, but it was soon enough to boarding time that most of the other passengers were already there, waiting alongside them.

Victor toyed around on his phone with one hand, reading all the comments on the various posts they'd made earlier in the night.  With his other hand, he held to Yuri's, slowly stroking his thumb back and forth across his partner's skin.  It was still a bit surreal, even to him.

'We'll get married after Yuri wins Gold.  Right, Yuri?'

'Be mine...until I retire.'
'Sounds like a marriage proposal.  I hope you never retire.'

Victor pressed his cheek against his partner's head, and gently rubbed back and forth on that soft, dark hair.

So much has changed in just the last few weeks, He thought, eyes still on his phone screen, even though he wasn't really looking at it anymore, We had all that time over the summer to figure each other out, but you always kept just enough distance that I couldn't find a way in.  I wonder if it was just being at a competition again that changed things for you?  He huffed a laugh and closed his eyes, How did it never occur to me that he'd forgotten the Sochi Banquet?  His reluctance makes so much sense in that light...

He turned slightly to kiss the man's crown, but stayed there, breathing in the sweet smell of Yuri's hair.

Everything started happening so fast once he opened up...  It's hard to believe we've already made it this far.  I thought it would take him months to get comfortable enough with me to let me touch him.  Yuri...  Victor thought, and let out a long slow breath as he hummed a smile into black hair, You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.

Brown eyes opened slightly, and Yuri looked up sleepily, only to close his eyes again as he felt warm lips on his own.  He held still for the moment, even as the feeling changed from a kiss to just having their faces close together, "I'm getting all tingly already.  You?" Yuri wondered, lifting his head up slightly.

"A little." Victor answered quietly, and used the opportunity to sneak another kiss. 

Yuri wiggled a bit in his seat to sit up a bit higher, and gave the hand he still held a light squeeze, "I remember how it felt at the end of my last Free Skate." He admitted, "Not wanting to go to the kiss-and-cry, because I thought it was going to be for the last time..."

"Mh..." Victor hummed in agreement, "I thought it might be the last time, too.  You hadn't yet decided that you wanted to keep going, whether with me or without.  And the way you spooked me the night before the Short Program..."  He shook his head lightly, "I swear, if you ever tell me ‘we need to talk’ again, I'll have a heart attack..."

Yuri could only puff his shoulders up a little in a wry apology-shrug, “Sorry, it seemed like a rational idea at the time.”  To make up for it though, he hefted one leg up and over his partner’s, resting it there on top of Victor’s knee, “It’s not like I really wanted to send you away.  ‘If you love something, set it free’ and all that.”

"You can't get rid of me that easily, Yuri.  Someone else did that to me once before and I learned from it." Victor said, and twisted in his seat so he could put his free hand over his partner's knee.

"...Someone else?"

"As soon as you gave me this ring, I knew I wouldn't be leaving you..." The silver went on, ignoring the question.  He kneaded the leg resting on his gently, looking down at it as he did so, "Maybe I was bit reckless with my words when talking to Yakov later though.  I shouldn’t have assumed you knew you’d be coming with me, so I can see how you could’ve taken it otherwise."

"Yakov seems like something of a father figure to you..." Yuri noted, lightly clasping his hand over the one that was resting on his thigh, and rubbed his thumb over it softly, "You’ve been training with him for such a long time.  I can’t even imagine being under the same coach’s instruction for as long as you have.”

Victor gave the leg a squeeze, “How much do you think he actually coaches me these days?”

Yuri balked and smiled nervously, “…Well, someone has to make sure you get out of bed and show up, right?” He surmised, “Even the lauded Victor Nikiforov needs to practice a little bit.”

The Russian puffed himself up a bit in his seat, holding up his free hand declaratively, “Day or night, rain or shine, Victor Nikiforov practices when he wants.  Yakov knows that and accepts it.”

.

[Vitya, your devotion to your art is nothing short of incredible.  I’ll stay here with you all night to make sure you get this program right.] The rose-tinted memory of the cranky old man said, [A true artisan, plying his craft to the hymns of the muses.]

[Whensoever they gift inspiration, I must answer.  I’m glad you understand.] Victor definitely recalled himself saying in turn.

.

[Victor it’s midnight, get your ass out of here already!] The shade of reality barked.

[But I just got here.]

[GO HOME.]

.

“He’s so supportive.” The Russian said whimsically.

“That’s probably not how it happened,” Yuri shook his head.

Victor sighed dramatically, and slumped back into his seat, setting both hands on that firm thigh, "...Four hours just to fly from here to Matsumoto...then we have to wait another few hours for the first train to leave there...then another hour and a half train ride from Matsumoto to Nagano...  The wait is torture.  By the time we get there, we'll both be too tired to do anything other than sleep.  Then the Short Program starts right away...  We're lucky they're not going to be mad at us for missing the Opening Ceremonies and other official stuff, since you joined on so late."  Slate-blue eyes turned, looking at the visage beside him.  Thoughts of the trip ahead evaporated, and he smiled, "You have such a kissable face...I bet other parts of you are kissable, too..." He said, threading his fingers around the inside curve of that leg.

Yuri's cheeks went bright red at that, but all he could do was stammer, "It was your idea to do this thing overnight..." He pointed out dryly, "We could've left Hasetsu earlier and spent the night in Nagano..."

Victor smirked triumphantly, and leaned his head back contentedly, knowing what he'd just put into the hapless skater's mind, "Making plans on short notice doesn't leave me the benefit of being flexible with time." He explained, "Arranging the pick-up with CedEx to get all of our things from Yu-Topia, making sure my place in St. Petersburg is ready...  I’m not entirely reckless and irresponsible..."

“...Do you know if the RSF is mad at you?" Yuri wondered suddenly, “Since you’re here, rather than there.”

"I have no idea." Victor answered with a laugh, and slouched in his seat so he could set his head on his partner's shoulder, "I'm sure Yurio is mad enough for all of them though." He huffed, thinking that at least a little funny as the image of that defiant teenager on the pier came to mind, "He claims he doesn't care if I'm competing or not, but he does."

Yuri nodded, then glanced towards the huge floor-to-ceiling windows to see the outline of their plane finally coming forward through the dark, "...There's our ride.  They'll be calling us soon."

.

Just as the Russian had stated, the plane ride, the wait, then the train ride...nearly 14 total hours of traveling and waiting since leaving Hasetsu...but, they were finally at the event hotel in Nagano.  It was early morning when they finally stumbled into their room and dropped their things in the front hall.  The Men's Singles Short Program wouldn't start until closer to 4pm, but trying to sleep during the day would still be an exercise, and they'd be missing the Official Practice before noon, too.

Yuri stared into the room, his coat and scarf hanging off his shoulders like they’d fall off him any moment.  With the last bits of his energy, he stepped out of his shoes, plodded towards the foot of the Queen-sized bed.  He stared at it absently, like he couldn’t decide if he had the mental wherewithal to get in before falling asleep, or if it was enough just to see a bed.  He barely noticed as Victor moved in behind him to pull the coat away, unwrapped the scarf, and stowed them away in the hall closet with his own things.  Yuri just reached up to pull his glasses off and rubbed his eyes on the back of his wrist, yawned, and hazily crawled over the whole bed to set his frames and phone down before collapsing on top of the covers.

Victor saw him drop, not even bothering to get under the blankets.  He stepped out of his shoes and up onto the clean floors of the main room, walked the short distance to the other side of the huge bed, and crawled on top of the covers as well.  As he usually did, he wedged his right arm under his partner's waist, draped the left over the other side, and pulled the man close to his chest.  Without a word, he followed his partner’s lead, and let himself pass out there for a good long nap.

.

It was around 2pm when Victor slowly started to wake up again.  By then, Yuri had rolled over completely, arms wrapped around his silver-haired head, one leg curled over his side.  He had his own leg wedge up as far as it could go between his partner's thighs, arms around Yuri's smaller frame, both having found their way into the man's sweater somehow.  He felt as Yuri suddenly started to stretch, legs straightening out and arms wrapping a little tighter around him, then collapsing with a happy sigh after.

Yuri pulled one arm from around the Russian’s head to rub his face a little bit before actually looking up and around the room.  He blinked slowly, eyes half-narrowed, as he got his bearings, “I don’t even remember getting in.” He said quietly, and felt the rub of both thumbs where they had stolen away inside the back of his shirt, “Mh…so you’re awake, too.”

“I don’t wanna get up though.” The exhausted Russian whined, “I like it right here…”

“Much as I agree with you, we do have some responsibilities today.  We should try to make an appearance before things really get started, so it doesn’t look like we’re only here because we have to be.” Yuri suggested, combing his fingers through that silver hair, “C’mon.”

“Mmnnn…”

“Victooorrrr…”

.

The Nagano Wakasato Tamokuteki Sports Arena, otherwise known as the "Big Hat" arena, was once an Olympic venue, and most frequently hosted hockey events.  Every once in a great while though, it served as host to speed skating and, of course, figure skating.  In previous years, it had hosted the NHK Trophy, and presently, it was playing venue to the Japanese National Figure Skating Championships.

Skaters from all over the country descended on the locale, all wearing the same team jackets that Yuri was wearing.  Victor looked around excitedly, decked out in his black suit, holding to Yuri's pinky finger so as not to get distracted and wander away.

"Look at all these local skaters!" He commented, "There’s…so many of them!”

Yuri looked around warily though, eyes darting this way and the other, “It’ll only be a matter of time before Mi-“

"YUUUUURI-KUUUUUUUN."

"-nami..."

The short and bubbly teenager came bounding out of the crowd, yellow and red hair as spiky as ever.  He rushed right up to the pair before pausing, eyeballing the pair enthusiastically, arms outstretched, "YOU MADE IT!"

"...Mh." Yuri answered stiffly; he could feel Victor laughing behind him.

"CONGRATS ON GETTING SILVER AT THE GP FINAL!" Minami went on, full-on going into fangirl mode, "That Russian Punk stole Gold right out of your hands though!  I can't imagine how crushed you were!"

"Oh I was crushed..." Yuri said, side-eyeing his fiancé, "Under a great deal...of weight..."

The teen blinked light-brown eyes at him, and tilted his head, only to spot Victor behind the older skater snickering knowingly.  Eyes went down after that and suddenly spotted where the two skaters were holding each other's hands, and those same eyes suddenly got rather wide.

"You're a lot heavier than you think, Victor." Yuri was saying, turning back and teasing him by pointing with the other hand...the one with the ring on it.

Minami's eyes couldn't get any bigger to see the gold there, and in his mind, math equations were floating by as he pieced together what was going on.  He quickly reached out to grab the hand and brought it close, mashing it against his face to get a better look, "SO IT IS TRUE."

"Huh?" Yuri turned back at him, giving the teen a look as he tried unsuccessfully to get his hand back.

"When Newscaster Morooka announced that Victor was saying a prayer for good luck over your matching rings, I nearly died!" Minami was saying excitedly, almost hyperventilating from it all, "I thought, there's no way those two are engaged, but why would they have matching GOLD RINGS if they aren't!?"  He had Yuri's fingers splayed, one hand grabbing the index and middle fingers, the other holding to the pinky, singling out the ring finger between them as he lowered it from his face, eyes wet with happy tears, "WHO POPPED THE QUESTION!?"

Others were starting to look over at the spectacle.  They'd known Yuri was there already so none were too surprised to see him.  Most were just too modest to say anything, and many others still were too busy fawning over Victor.  Minami, however...

"YOU HAVE TO TELL ME!"

Yuri finally clawed his hand back, holding it protectively close as he massaged his sore fingers, "...Technically Victor."

"...Technically?  What's that supposed to mean?"

Yuri got a bit anxious, making a weird face like he wasn't sure how to explain it.

"Don’t lie, Yuri, we both know it was you." The Russian teased, "When you got back from Rostelecom.  The rings were just a formality after that.  Remember when the others thought we were married already because of them?"  He slouched over his fiancé's back affectionately, arms wrapped around him warmly as he laughed merrily.

Yuri's face was flushed, but he leaned back into the hug and gently put his hands over his partner's crossed arms, turning his head to nose the man's cheek a little, "I guess it was a slightly impulsive purchase.  I really just couldn’t think of what else to get you that was golden."

"Nonsense," Victor teased, "Consciously or unconsciously, you knew what you were buying.  If you'd gotten anything else, we probably wouldn't have come this far!"

Minami's brain was breaking to see them so physical, and he reached out and put his hands up, right behind their heads from his vantage, "...Now kiss!"

"Eh?  Here?  ...On demand?" Yuri asked, confused, looking around and seeing more eyes on them.

"Okay~!" Victor mused, and pulled off his partner's back.  He reached for the man's hands, and held them fondly as he stepped inward, "Yuri."

Cheeks were thoroughly flushed, but it did no good to resist.  Every other skater, their coach, choreographer, even some members of the audience that were still there from the previous show were watching them, eager to see what would happen.  The Eros inside Yuri's soul was begging to be let loose, and he slowly allowed it.  He slid his arms over the Russian's shoulders, and wove a few fingers together at the limits of their reach behind the man's silver-haired head, "Victor."

Looking into one another's eyes, the gaggle of gawkers quickly disappeared, and it was just them again.  They leaned in close to each other and kissed fondly, and for a while.  When they finally came back out of it again, it was to the sound of clapping and cheering all around.  Yuri's cheeks got a bit redder, but he held close to his partner, feeling where the Russian pressed their cheeks together as he hugged him.  Despite the embarrassment, Yuri could feel himself starting to relax into the excitement of being known as Victor Nikiforov's lover...and he turned inward, one hand set on his fiancé's chest as he stepped up onto his toes to kiss the man's cheek, to the cheering of many.

Minami cried as he clapped, long streams dripping from his wide-eyed face, "That was so beautiful.  I always knew you were meant for each other." He managed, snuffling back a drip from his nose.

"Always?" Yuri echoed skeptically, "What do you mean...?"

"The minute I saw Victor putting balm on your lips at Regionals, I knew!" The teen explained.  He pulled one arm up, and buried his eyes against the crook of his elbow, "I knew all this time...!"

"I didn't think you were so emotionally invested in this, Minami-kun..." Yuri blanched.

"I'm your biggest fan; don't you remember!?" Minami blurted out, lifting up his messy face from his sleeve, "And you'll be able to watch my version of 'Lohengrin' this time!  I've been practicing really hard, and I can do a quad Toe-loop now!  ...Sometimes!  I'm not as good as that monster, Yuri Plisetsky, but I'm trying!"

"He is a monster." Victor agreed, still perched over his partner's shoulder, "And we'll definitely stick around for your version of 'Lohengrin.'  Right?  Yuri~"

Though anxious about it, Yuri nodded and smiled, "We'll watch it.  Let's go figure out what order we're going in."

.

[First to take the ice, hailing from Hasetsu, Saga Prefecture...skating to 'On Love: Eros'...Katsuki Yuri-san.] The announcer called in Japanese.

"...Shinjirarenai..." (I can't believe this.) Yuri sighed, leaning against the rink wall as he pulled the rubber guards off his blades, “Every dang time.”

Minami was chortling with laughter in the waiting area, "GANBAAAA...YURI-KUUUUN!"

"Hai hai..." He answered, waving at the teen dubiously.

Victor rested on his elbows on the rink wall rather casually, drinking in the excitement from the crowd, and looked over at all the signs - cheering his fiancé on, as well as congratulating their Silver Medal victory at the GPF - and smiled brightly at the ones that were already acknowledging their 'ship' setting sail.  He turned slightly to find a pair of blade-guards being held out to him, and he took them in one hand, "The home crowd is pretty excited to see you, Yuri.  I don't really understand more than a word of what they're saying though."

"Yeah...  After last year, I'm not surprised." He answered, looking around with bright but nervous eyes, "Hopes are high that I'll do better than 11th this time."  He smile-sighed, reaching for a tissue from the Makkachin-plush just next to Victor's elbow.  He cleared his nose and crumpled the tissue in his hand, handing it off casually like normal, "But I think I can do better this time."

"I think so, too." The Russian nodded, going back to his casual slouch on both elbows, "Are you going to go for the Flip at the end again?"

"Mh."  Yuri nodded, a fire in his eyes, "We've been practicing it a lot over the last few weeks, so I think I can land it cleanly, even here, where I’m being watched by half of Japan.  So...I'm off."  He held up his right hand in a fist, feeling confident.

"Go do what you love." Victor answered; he cupped his hands around the loose fist, and pressed his lips to the ring in front him.

"Mh!" Yuri agreed, and turned his hand just enough to ‘pinch’ his fiancé’s chin affectionately.

Victor was not to be under-done though, and he lowered down onto the gesture unexpectedly.  Yuri's face went bright red instantly, feeling the man's mouth around his thumb, sliding back until it was out again; Victor looked up and gave a sultry wink, "A promise for later." He said rather matter-of-factly, “Think of it and let your Eros run wild.”

"Ohman, youwoulddothat." Yuri stammered, heart pounding, but finally taking off across the ice to present himself to the crowd.  His thumb felt particularly cold, still wet from his fiancé's unorthodox attention. 

That was so embarrassing...!  I guess I haven't seen even half of Victor's true Eros yet either...  It’s show-time though, and Victor just put a gust of warm wind into my sails.

He held his arms out and felt the wash of adulation, moving in circles around the ice until he took his place in center.  One gracious bow towards the judges ended his introduction, and he took his position, drew in a deep breath, and closed his eyes.  The guitar began, and Yuri brought up his arms to just above shoulder-level, descending them palms-down in front of himself.  He brought them up again to rotate around himself, and dug his left toe-pick into the ice.  He blew a kiss to his fiancé for good measure before he took off.

Though the stands weren't half as packed as they had been at the Grand Prix Final, Yuri still did his best to give a performance at least as well as he'd given in Barcelona.  There was only one person whose approval he was seeking for anyway, and that person was watching him from the rink-wall. 

This is the first time I can truly say I know how to skate this program... He thought, every inch of his body tingling.  Moving on through his program, he caught a glimpse of Victor watching him, and he felt a flutter in his chest, seeing a flash of the man in a much different situation.  His cheeks reddened again, ...Victor has helped show me what real Eros is like...  I'm not the same person I was before...I know what erotic love feels like now... 

Their earlier romps were prominent in his mind's eye then, and Victor’s ‘promise’ stuck out in particular.

...I know...what Agape feels like, too...  I don't have to look for inspiration anymore, because I have these things now...  

'The time for thinking about katsudon and girls is over now, Yuri.'  Victor's voice echoed in his head, and he remembered that soft smile.

He's right...  Because now, I can freely think of him...and it isn't wishful thinking anymore!  Victor Nikiforov is really mine!  And I'm his!  And he just said that, later, he was going to…to…!

His face was bright red as he moved on, vivid imaginings rushing through his mind as his body did its best to carry out the show without a Captain at the helm.  Most of the Short Program felt like a happy blur to him.  The first half was packed with all the artistic elements; spins, moves in the field, exquisite choreography.  Yuri's mind was everywhere but on the ice though, completely immersed in the flashes of his real-life Eros. 

I wonder if Victor can see the difference...?  I wonder if anyone else can...

The small cadre of Usual Suspects from Regionals were all lined up on the rink-wall near Victor, and just like back then, were enamored by Yuri's skill on the blades.  Victor looked at them out the corner of his eye for a moment, but then looked back out to his fiancé, and slumped against his hand with a happy sigh.

It's like watching the change in his program for 'Onsen on Ice,' He thought fondly, Ah, my lovely Yuri, you're really becoming one with your Eros.  You're not the timid little thing you were when I found you last year.  I'm really excited to see how much more you can grow.

The music had slipped into something of a lull, playing more softly.  Yuri slid into the level-4 sit spin; he charged into the basic rotation, and hopped mid-rotation for added difficulty.  He reached to grab at where the right leg stretched out ahead of himself, and the world became a blurry streak all around him.  Soon, he let go of the leg, spinning with his arms slightly out from center before moving off again into a third variant, holding his right skate by the blade where it came underneath his left thigh, then finally rose up again to skate away.

He sped towards the short end of the rink, and leaned back into an outside spread-eagle, feeling the cold, brisk air as it flowed all around him.  At the end of the curve, he lifted his right leg, and thrust it forward for his favorite jump; the triple Axel.  He landed it as he usually did, and slid off in reverse to head back down the rink, the sound of the audience's cheering following him.  He flew down the rink, and kicked into a quad Salchow, triple Toe-loop combo.

Landing, Yuri slid down the ice on one knee, then rose up, twisted around, extended his leg out behind him...and kicked his toe-pick down as hard as he could.  He spun four times and landed, but the sound of the audience's shock was all he processed.  He was still sliding, but he suddenly realized he could feel the cold on his thigh and right hand.

Shit!  I fell!  …I need to think about the program!

Victor slid his hand up, and covered his eyes for a moment as he shook his head.  When he looked up again, Yuri had gotten back onto his feet and was trying to catch up to his place in the program, ..Maybe I overdid it?  He smiled wryly. 

The skater had already moved into the final required element, starting with the camel spin, left arm hanging down at an angle towards his knee. 

There's still so much more of Victor's Eros that I want to see and learn about...  Yuri thought, kicking off to descend into a sit-spin twist variant, I've barely seen the first small wave of his vast ocean, I’m sure of it...  He switched feet before he rose up again, picking up speed as the move finished with a swift cross-foot spin.

The spin ended, and Yuri broke away, thrusting his arms forward together.  The music above was at its peak, the entire wicked orchestra singing its lustful tune.  Yuri pushed through the last inside spread-eagle, and took his place in the center of the rink, arms up around himself as the song climaxed and cut out.  His eyes focused on the rink wall, staring straight at the black-clad Russian.

Victor...  Yuri heaved, catching his breath, I want you to show me everything...!  I want to know your hopes and dreams, the things that excite and terrify you...your true Eros and Agape, Philia and Storge...  No matter what!  I want to know it all!

The audience cheered wildly.  Yuri recognized Minami's voice hollering louder than the rest, and he bowed towards the different ends of the rink.  Plush sushi, nigiri, and poodles were thrown to the ice alongside flowers and whole bouquets, but as Yuri was moving through, heading towards the exit and the kiss-and-cry, he caught sight of a single, coral-colored rose.  He clicked a toe-pick down to hold him still while he knelt down, and let his cold fingers clasp around the bare stem to pick it up.  He held the petals up to his face and breathed in the sweet smell, and only then, finally, let himself get through the opening in the rink wall. 

Happily, Victor slid his arms over his partner's shoulders, "I can tell that your recent new experiences have changed the way you move," He commented quietly, brushing his lips across that nearest cheek as he spoke, "Your entire performance out there had a different dynamic.  You’re evolving right before my eyes, Yuri."

The exhausted skater shook his head, nuzzling his face to his coach's shoulder and neck before he pulled back, "Look what you’ve done to me." He said, unable to stop from smiling at the idea of it.

“I wasn’t the one who made you trip though, just so we’re clear.”

Yuri staggered and gaped incredulously at the sudden bait-and-switch, “V-Victor!” He blurted in disbelief, pulling out of the hug with cheeks flushed, but then doubled-down, “I just got caught up in a thought and I stopped paying attention, that’s all.  Guess I can't auto-pilot the Flip as well as I hoped."

"Maybe next time." Victor winked.

[The score for Katsuki Yuri-san...106.45.]

"Not bad." The Russian mused, his tone somewhat sarcastic, "Within a hair’s width of your China score.  Just a little further and you’ll start to make Yurio sweat."

"I'll skate it better at Four Continents." Yuri said, looking again to the coral-colored bloom in his grasp, "And then, I'll skate it even better than that at Worlds.  I’ll take that record."

"Oh~?"

"Mh." He nodded, "I'm sure you'll teach me all kinds of new moves by then.  Right?"

Victor blinked, surprised at his partner's words, "...Yes, absolutely.  Lots of new moves.  Very advanced stuff." He managed, watching the younger man rise up from the bench.

Yuri couldn't help but smile, and gave a gentle tug on the hand that held to his coach's, "Sorry, did something inappropriate go through your mind just now?"

 "Oh absolutely." The silver laughed, and stood up finally, "I think I just fell in love with you again, too."  He added, and bent his arm where Yuri took hold of his elbow.

"Again?" Yuri echoed, and took a few quick steps as he felt Victor start to walk, "You can do that?"  

.

Inoue Hiroki - 66.34
Hashimoto Takeo - 74.15
Okamoto Masanori - 71.98
Takaki Kichiro - 69.73

[Next on the ice, from Hakata, Fukuoka Prefecture...skating to 'Lohengrin,' Minami Kenjirou-san.]

In the competitor's section of the stands, Victor leaned a little, and nudged his fiancé's shoulder, "Neh, Yuri...you said last year that this was a show from your dark past.  Do you still think that now?"

"Mmnnnnnh..." The younger skater sighed anxiously, "...Sort of?"

"Minami scolded you thoroughly for it." The Russian went on, his tone sounding more like a coach again than a lover's, "He said he'd never forgive you if you didn't try your best during the Free Program."

"I remember."

The excited young blonde went out onto the icy stage, waving at Yuri especially as he went by. 

Yuri waved back, "GANBAAAAAA, MINAMI-KUUUUN." He hollered, trying not to let the dread of the anticipation seep into his tone, “It’s just weird to see someone else take so much pleasure or…maybe inspiration is a better word?  From something that I don’t look back on that fondly.”

"He came in 3rd at last year's Nationals, right?" Victor went on, clapping dutifully, but staying seated where he was, "He scored in the 60s for the Short Program at Regionals though, and totaled out at only 214.  You've scored more than that in your Free Skate alone at this point."

"And that’s exactly why I was saying before that if I won Gold here, that unless someone got shockingly good all of a sudden and gave me an actual challenge, I wouldn’t want you to kiss the medal." Yuri scolded.

“Did I promise that?” Victor wondered, a finger on his lip as he looked up in thought.

Yuri gaped, then deadpanned, "How is it that you remember scores so well but nothing else?"

"Whaaat?  I remember plenty of other things!"

"What was my Short Program called last season?" Yuri posited, giving a challenging look.  The music above started, making the Yuri twitch a little.

['Lohengrin: Morgenröte' - version found on YouTube channel TerminalEpistaxis - end at 2:23]

Victor blinked at him, "Uhm..."

Minami was off like a shot, the music carrying him off as though taking part in the battle-charge of some massive cavalry. 

"Your programs last season were 'Scheherazade' and 'Aria.'  You had a different Exhibition for every event."

Straight-line into a triple Axel; the bane of Minami's existence, but he pulled through.

The Russian paused, but then smiled and booped his fiancé's nose, and kept his finger there, nudging slightly as he spoke, "Your SP last season was 'Dark Eyes' by  Yevhen Hrebinka, but I only remember getting to see a single Exhibition.  Single, as in, you did the same one at both qualifying events."

This time, it was Yuri blinking, eyes crossed where he looked down the tip of his nose. 

Victor just laughed a little and pat his partner's hand where it was resting between them, and laced their fingers together fondly, "I really ought to scold Celestino for holding you back.  He picked all your performances, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Why did he never give you more than one Exhibition?  I feel like that's been a pattern throughout your career.  One Exhibition per season, and that's it."

"Why bother with more?" Yuri wondered, leaning in a bit closer as flashbacks to his earlier skating days dazzled before his eyes, seeing his old self wearing the same outfit that Minami was wearing on the ice before him, “I’m sure Celestino had his reasons, not least among them being that I had enough on my plate practicing the competitive programs on my schedule.  Didn’t need to waste time practicing multiple Exhibitions.”

"Why bother?" Victor repeated in confusion, "Why not bother?  The Exhibition is the most fun part of the whole thing...  No rules to hold you back, no structure you have to follow...  The ice is your canvas, and you can do whatever you want.  Heck, it's a great way to experiment and learn new moves."

"That may well be true, but scrubs like me had no business learning backflips when I couldn’t even pull off a quad Flip unless no one was looking." Yuri pointed out, a dour tone to his voice then, feeling a bit sour as the ‘dark days’ music continued overhead, "Just like this year, I only scraped my way into the Final by a technicality...and I only got on the podium one time."  He sighed and shook his head, "Having to pay a fee to skate the Exhibition in place of having earned a spot...  There was never any point in learning more than one show when I'd only skate in one show."

Minami vaulted into the quad Toe-loop, landing with a hand on the ice, but then jumped immediately into a camel spin.

The silver Russian watched his partner carefully, feeling where the man's fingers were getting a bit tight where he held them.  He gently rubbed his thumb over it to try and help the grip relax, "Sorry.  I must've hit a nerve."

Yuri just glanced at him out the corner of his eye, feeling the caress, and took it for what it was.  He leaned his head to the side and set it on the edge of his idol's shoulder, reaching over with his free hand to hold to the man's forearm as well, "No…  Sorry, it’s not you.  It’s…the music.” He said, and paused briefly, looking on the teen’s moves, “I know Minami-kun means well, but he doesn’t know me that well.  ...At Regionals, when he said he was doing this for his Short Program, part of me was relieved when I missed it, because it would've gotten me down to be reminded of it back then, too."  He admitted quietly, barely audible over the song, "I want to be able to look at it and think, 'wow, look how far I've come.'  But that wasn't really my spring-board.  'Lohengrin' for me was just the sad skip of a small flat rock across a boring pond.  There was nothing particularly amazing about me or my skating back then."  

Triple Salchow, double Loop.  Slight over-rotation on the Loop, but the teen didn't fall.

"Seeing Minami-kun dressed up in my old outfit..." Yuri went on, eyes fixed on the young skater, "He seems to get the same kick out of it that I do dressing up in your old costume," He explained, looking down to the leggings of his Eros costume, "...And I'm happy for him in that way.  But..." He sank a bit lower against the man's shoulder, "I feel like he's celebrating mediocrity.  When you last wore this outfit, you were winning the Junior World Championship.  Not to mention, this costume was the one you were wearing when I first found out about you from Yu-chan, so it has extra-special significance to me.  There are good memories attached to it on both sides."

"...Wow."

"Mh.  But when I last wore that one?"  He pointed a finger over the Russian's forearm, discretely aiming it towards the performer on the ice, "I was barely a blip on the local radar; I'd just moved to Detroit to start working with my first Seniors coach.  I was considered a top skater in the JSF only because most other skaters were even worse.  Going to competitions against Russia or Canada...really made it clear that I wasn't the top of anything.  I just…had a lot of distractions back then, Yuko’s pregnancy and having the triplets foremost among them.  I couldn’t focus and I was probably in a bad state of mind for most of it.  It’s all a bit of a blur these days, since I try not to think about it, but I…know I wasn’t having the best time back then."

"No one becomes a Champion overnight, Yuri."  Victor finally said, "It takes a lot of hard work and determination.  You need to want something bad enough that you'll do whatever it takes to get there.  You make sacrifices, and push yourself harder than anyone else ever could.  Sometimes it feels like you're going it alone, and sometimes you can get help from people around you...but in the end, you're the sole architect of your own destiny."  He leaned over to kiss the top of his partner's head, "You have to look at every show as a stepping stone to something better, not a skipping stone.  How can you learn from your past if you're never willing to look back on it and see where you made mistakes, so you can fix them later?"

"What kind of mistakes have you made?" Yuri wondered cautiously, "You always seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing, and that you meant every step."

"And every cat that falls off the back of a couch walks away acting like nothing happened, too.  Everyone fights a different battle.  Mine was never on the ice." The Russian answered quietly, keeping his eyes fixed forward, "Skating was my refuge; my confidant, my best friend.  Nothing bad ever happened out there.  I felt more comfortable dancing on blades than I did walking in shoes."

"Really?" The younger skater asked curiously, "...So you channeled all the off-ice problems into motivation to skate better?  I wish I knew what you’ve been through, so I could take notes on how I could’ve changed things for myself."

"What I went through is nothing you should ever have to worry about; those battles were fought long ago." Victor said, his tone one of finality, "Oh, look...Minami finished.  I wonder how his score will compare to your last 'Lohengrin'?"

Yuri side-eyed the man next to him, quietly adding it to a slowly growing list of things his fiancé didn't want to talk about.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

By the end of the afternoon's Short Program, no one else had come close to challenging Yuri's 'high score.'  Most were an easy 20 points less at their best, though many, younger or less experienced, scored just over half of that total number.  Despite Victor's pep-talk, and doing his best to seem enthusiastic about Minami's performance when the teen came up to him later, Yuri still felt rather disappointed by everything.  He couldn't shake the feeling even after they'd left the event, and gone back to the hotel to change and wind down for the night.  Even when in bed, with the lights all out, phones set aside on their chargers, and the television off, Yuri couldn't shake his weird melancholy.  The trouble with it though, was that he couldn't even pin-down what it was that had triggered it.

I'm happy with the score that I got...so why do I feel like I'm losing...?  Was Minami-kun's 'Lohengrin' really that big a deal for me...?  Or was it because of Victor being ominous about his past?

He sighed, and pushed up from his spot in bed.  Victor's arm slid down his side as he tilted upward, and he held it softly, hoping the Russian wouldn't wake up from the movement.  For the moment, it seemed that Victor was still soundly asleep, and Yuri carefully reached for his phone.  It was nearly 2am, according to the absurdly bright lights on his phone's screen.  Yuri blinked and clicked the device off, straining his eyes against the dark.  To his sudden dread though, he felt Victor move behind him; the man had pulled his arm back, and seemed to roll onto his back.

"Mnnhh..." The silver grumbled, "Don't tell me it's time to get up...  It still feels like it's so late..."

Yuri could feel his heart race, but he quickly put his phone back on the nightstand, "N-no...  I couldn't sleep.  It's hours still before we have to get up."

"Mnnn...that's good then..." Victor mumbled, and pinched the bridge of his nose.  As he let his arm fall back to the blankets though, he looked to where he could sense his partner in the dark, "Why can't you sleep?"

Yuri hesitated to answer, squinting slightly as his eyes readjusted.  He picked himself up and turned around where he sat, finding one of Victor’s hands in the sheets, "...I'm not really sure." He explained, holding to those fingers with both of his hands, "I thought it might be because I didn't want to see 'Lohengrin,' and had to anyway...but Minami-kun did a good job with it, and I don't...  I'm sure that I don't feel weird because I'm jealous of him.  I'm not.  How can I?  Not when I..." Yuri stammered, the words caught in his throat.

Victor turned onto his side, and joined his free hand to the stack, giving his fiancé's fingers a gentle pat, "Because you scored much higher with 'Eros'?" He suggested.

"Ehhh...yeah...?"

"'Eh yeah?'" Victor echoed, "You sound like you're unhappy about it."

"I like my score.  I just...don't like how it's so much higher than everyone else.  Nearly twice as high as some..."

"Ah...  So that's it."

Yuri sunk a bit where he sat, "What an absurd thing to be upset about...  Back in China, being in the lead made me lose sleep, too, but...it wasn't because I devastated the playing field.  My lead was so tenuous...and Phichit-kun ended up beating me anyway.  There's just...no chance of that here.  To lose now, I'd have to skate laps around the rink instead of doing my show."

Victor lifted one hand and curled it around the back of his worried partner's neck, and gently tugged until Yuri willingly leaned forward and laid down.  Once curled up, Victor slid his arm over the younger man's smaller frame, pet that dark hair, and leaned to kiss his beloved's brow, "Don't dread winning so much.  Everyone signed up for this competition knowing what they were getting into, and what competitors they'd be skating against."

"But it's like I'm picking on little kids." Yuri protested quietly, cringing slightly against the warmth of Victor's chest, "It doesn't feel fair..."

"Mmmhmmm..." Victor hummed, already falling asleep again.

Yuri could only sigh, and looked down in the dark, I never thought winning would feel this bad...  I wonder if Victor’s ever felt this way before…?  He seems so well-adjusted to the idea right now.

.

Victor had gone half-rabid with excitement when they found their way to the Nagano Jigokudani Monkey Park, and he could see the famous macaques where they bathed in the natural hot-springs.

"YURI LOOK." The Russian pointed at them over-enthusiastically, "COME TAKE A PICTURE."  He rifled through his jacket to pull out his phone and grabbed his partner before finding a place to stand.  One arm extended forward to hold the phone while the other was out behind Yuri's head with his fingers giving a V-sign.  He smiled much more excitedly than Yuri did, but took the picture anyway, "This is so great!  Hashtag #MonkeyBusiness!"  He laughed as he posted it to Instagram.

The monkeys barely paid the pair of tourists any attention, going about their day in the hot winter water as they did every other that came before. 

Victor put his phone away and lifted his arm to slide it across his partner's shoulders, "You're still dwelling in your melancholy from yesterday." He commented as he started walking them to the next path, "Are you going to change your Free Skate?"

"Huh?" Yuri looked up as he snaked his arm around the Russian's lower back, a bit surprised, "Change it...?"

"Yeah."

"What would I even...?"

"The jumps, maybe?" The Russian clarified, "Bring down the difficulty rating so your program is on the same level as everyone else's."

Yuri thought on it, but then shook his head, "They'd think I was making fun of them.  Besides, I don't think I've ever heard of you doing that."

"Me?  No." Victor shrugged up his shoulders and huffed a laugh at himself, "If I changed up my program so soon after medaling at a Grand Prix Final, I'd be booed out of the competition.  People expect me to have a high-difficulty program; they come to watch a good show as much as they do to cheer on the victors.  Maybe it'll be different for you."

"Why would it be different?"

"This is Japan." He explained, and waved one arm out to put the countryside on display, "People here are different than they are in Russia; more considerate and less cut-throat.  If you lowered the difficulty of your program, you might be seen as a good sport."

"Or I'll be scolded." Yuri offered instead.

"Not by me, at any rate.  I've recommended you lower your difficulty a few times...not that you always listen." The silver mused and shrugged.

"I don't know..." Yuri sighed, looking at the snow-covered path, "I'm already in first place by a huge margin.  If I did anything to handicap my Free Skate now, they might think I'm being arrogant, especially if I win the competition anyway."

"So then you're going to leave it as it is?"

"...Yeah, I think that would be best."

"Alright."

Cherry-hazel eyes saw the look on Victor's face change, getting less excited as they spoke.  So, Yuri did the only thing he could think of that he knew would cheer him up in a hurry; he stepped out in front of him, wrapped his arms around the man's sides, got up onto his toes, and kissed him.  When he felt his partners arms come up to rest around his shoulders, Yuri knew he'd succeeded, and hugged a little tighter, holding on a little longer, "Sorry, I'm being a downer." He finally said, looking into those crystal-blue eyes, "...I just...never thought I'd score 20, 30, even 40 points higher than anyone else.  The Free Skate gap will probably be even more massive.  You'd think it would be exciting, but I just...feel bad now.  I'm demolishing people who've beaten me before.  I used to just be a dime a dozen type of skater, nothing special...but now I'm-"

"I know." Victor answered, and pressed their brows together softly, "It's not so much fun being as good as you are when there's no one and nothing to challenge you." He said solemnly, "I understand how you feel."

Arms held a little tighter as Yuri heard those words, even though he was a bit surprised to realize Victor had said them.

"There are times where I don't even want to go to Nationals because I can see the others giving up when they see me go by..." The silver started again, "So that's a big reason why it was so easy to shrug it off this season.  At least here, people still get excited about their scores, even if they're far below yours.  You haven't been burying them in your ice-dust for so long that only the fans are happy to see you.  You're an inspiration to people, not a show-stealer, or a hope-killer."  He slid his right arm a little lower on his partner's shoulder, and gently set his palm against the man's face, fingers touching lightly to cool, winter-kissed skin, "But that's part of what makes what we have now so special."

"...What do you mean?"

"It's lonely at the top." Victor said quietly, "So I'm glad you're here with me.  Even if no one else comes close...at least we challenge each other.  It'll make Worlds - and next season - really interesting."

.

Going first during the Short Program meant Yuri would be going last during the Free Skate.  The new perspective he'd gained from his partner made watching the event a bit less intolerable, but it was still difficult.  With so many younger skaters, inexperienced at putting on a good show and lacking the capacity for power-house moves like quads and high-level spins, it was almost...boring to watch.  'Minami's Boogie' had gotten the audience riled up again like at Regionals, and a few other up-beat choices in music broke up the monotony of the rest, but easily half of the participants were so green that it seemed like only family or friends were clapping.  He and Victor still clapped dutifully, occasionally pulled out of their daydreaming by an interesting show put on by a more seasoned athlete, but by and large, it was nothing to write home about.

And then it was Yuri's turn.  Most of the audience had waited the entire afternoon to see him go up, so when he set blades to ice, the chorus of cheers were, by and far, a separate thing from how they had been earlier on. 

Victor revisited an old trick, putting balm onto his partner's lips before sending him onto the ice, but was sure to send him off with a kiss after.  A tight hug followed, and he sent his fiancé into the rink, clapping happily with the rest of the audience.

'Even if no one else comes close...at least we challenge each other.'

Yuri raised his arms up and presented himself to the crowd, waving appropriately towards the judges, and took his place.  He looked down at his hand, seeing the gold shine on his right ring finger.  Like he had done in the moments before the start of every program since getting it, he curled his fingers, put the ring to his lips, and kissed it for good luck.

Even if Victor's not competing here with me, I have to skate like he's on the ice anyway.  He's out here with me in spirit.  He's been here all along.

The piano began, and so did the skater, and he raised his hands up in front of himself, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as they went, then let them fall out to the side.  His performance was as good as it ever was, pleasing the crowd and impressing the younger athletes.  It still held a taint of that melancholy Victor had noticed before...and it was particularly obvious in that final reach, looking limp by comparison to the desperate reach it had become at the Grand Prix.  None but that self-same Russian could tell that Yuri didn't really have his heart in it, and the young skater had to force a smile when he saw his 207.52 score at the end of it.  When he stood on the podium to accept his first official Gold under Victor's coaching, it took everything he had to look happy with it.  It didn't even matter when he'd been handed the oversized, chrome-plated, wood-mounted chalice that was awarded to each discipline's Champion.  He just looked down into his reflection in its curved surface and felt miserable.  The photos - both solo and with the other winners - were hollow for him.  The victory lap was a chore.

...I have never, in my entire life, felt so bad about winning anything before.  It doesn't even feel like I won because I'm any good...it just...feels like I won because everyone else did badly...  Victor, help…

Yuri had something of a vacant expression in his eyes when he finally returned to rink-side; even the comical sight of Victor getting grabby-hands with the medal did little to arouse a more normal affect in him. 

"But I want to kiss it!" The Russian pleaded, a hand squished to his face as both of his own reached forward at the glint of that golden shine.

"No..."

Victor flailed and fussed, "But it's the first Gold you've won since I got here!" He whined, still reaching, still denied, "I HAVE TO-"

Abruptly, Yuri let him go, and the Russian flew forward to crash into him instead.  He clamored to right himself again, “Yu-Yuri…betrayer…” He muttered, rubbing his nose where it had collided with the younger man’s chest.  He saw blank brown eyes glancing at him, and he paused. 

Thinking the man had finally abandoned his quest, Yuri let his arm down...but quickly found the medal swiped from him as Victor launched a quick-attack.  The multi-time Champion-turned-coach spun around triumphantly and held the prize up by its colored lanyard, "I got it!  And now, I kiss it-"  He grabbed the disc with both hands and held it in front of his enthusiastically-puckered lips.

Yuri said nothing, barely turning his head to watch the spectacle, a disappointed look on his face.

You promised...

The Russian was suddenly acutely aware of his fiancé's dead-eyed stare, his one visible eye going wide as the younger man turned away from him.  He frowned and let the medal drop away, dangling at the end of the lanyard where it hung from his hand.  A few steps forward, and Victor was behind the perturbed skater, putting the prize against Yuri's palm...unkissed.

"Okay.  You win." He said, defeated, "I won't."

Hazel eyes descended as he felt the metal against his skin, and he grasped at the circular disc as the Russian let it go.  Slowly turning around, Yuri held it in both hands, and gradually brought his eyes up to meet the man in front of him, "Next time I win Gold...will be at Four Continents." He said quietly, "You can kiss that medal all you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The Russian nodded, then smirked, “You’ll just have to let me kiss other things in the mean time then.  To hold me over, you know.  I’m a very impatient man.”

Yuri finally showed some semblance of emotion again, and narrowed his eyes as his cheeks went red, “You’resoinappropriate.”

“Anyway though...!" Victor diverted suddenly, kissing the man's brow before turning to stand next to him, facing the curtain to the prep area, "Even if you won't let me kiss your medal, you've still won your first competition since I became your coach; whether or not you think you deserved it.  We should do something to celebrate.  This will be your last chance for a decent night's sleep before the Exhibition tomorrow, and then the long flight to St. Petersburg."

.

Lacking a variety of formal attire, their celebratory dinner out was more casual than Victor would've normally sought.  But, to the Russian's surprise, one of the best places in Nagano City was actually set up like a mom and pop shop, so high-class attire wasn't necessary even if the food was apparently rather classy.

"...This place...?" He said skeptically, looking at the tiny establishment from the sidewalk. 

The front of the building made it look especially tiny, built within the ground-floor level of a much larger structure.  It had several potted plants lining the main front window, a blue awning overtop, and a single-wide door on the left.  On the glass was a flower-like iconograph, and the words 'NOEL Bistronomic Nagano' beneath it in white English letters.

"The reviews say it's one of the 'Top 10' places in the city." Yuri explained, looking at the page on his phone with his free hand, the other held to his fiancé's between them, "The pictures of the food make it look super high-class.  They even have a whole plate just for a decorative display of rock salt.  At least I think it's rock salt...maybe it's small chunks of ginger root.  I can't tell."  He said, holding up a picture.

"Hm." The Russian hummed, a finger on his lip as he looked.  Smiling then, he started moving towards the door, "Reminds me of Yu-Topia.  Humble and rustic, but hiding a gem inside!"

The interior was largely made of wood displays; counters, shelves, flooring, chairs and tables.  Above the bar-area was a chalk-board featuring the menu; beneath it, a long hanging-wine-glass rack, and opposite the bar, a few small tables lined up against the wall.  It seemed like the entire place could only seat some 20 people at a time.

Waiting just inside the doorway, Yuri glanced around casually, reading over the menu while he waited for someone to notice them.  It didn't take long.  Patrons and staff alike immediately recognized the tall silver Russian standing next to him, and flocked over to start fawning. 

The slender foreign skater waved politely, but it was becoming plainly obvious that no one knew Yuri, who looked quite plain and unassuming.  So, Victor did the only thing he could think of, given how he didn't really know any Japanese...and yanked his partner's glasses off, set them on his own head, and reached around the man's face to pull that spiky black hair up and out of the unrecognizable skater's eyes.  He smiled and leaned over one shoulder, looking at the folks just behind the counter, "...Kore wa...Katsuki Yuri da yo!  Mitte ne?" [This is Yuri Katsuki!  Do you see?]

Yuri side-eyed him as best he could, "...V-Victor, what are you...?"

The patrons suddenly realized who he was, and all but a few of them suddenly rose from their seats to start clapping.  Those who didn't followed suit soon after.

"Kin-medaru omedetou!" Many of them were saying. [Congratulations on your Gold medal!]

Victor finally let his partner go, giving him his glasses back as soon as he had properly messed his hair back up, "No one recognizes who you are when you're in ultra-normal mode.  I'd hate to think they only know who I am when we're both standing here...I'm not the one who just won the All Japan Championship, after all."  He explained, seeing staff quickly rummaging around to set up a table for them; one that had already been empty, but hadn't been reset for the next guests yet.  He smiled and lead Yuri over once they were done and let him sit before taking his own place, "I may not know much Japanese yet, but even a foreigner like me can see all the adverts around town for the Championship event.  Pretty soon, people will be calling you a national hero!"

"...Can we please stop over-blowing my victory here?" The anxious athlete smiled nervously, “I’m starting to get self-conscious.”

"That’s just because you refuse to accept it." Victor insisted, reaching across to lightly caress his partner's cheek before letting that hand slide down to where Yuri's was already clinging to the edge of the wood, taking hold of his fingers and bringing that arm to rest in center of the table-top, "You played by the rules that were put in place for everyone.  You’ve just blown the top off the possibilities.  Sometimes, being a hero is less about winning a fight, and more about inspiring people to be better than what they are.  After all…I inspired you, you inspired Minami, and then we came full circle with me being inspired by you, too.”

“I feel like I’m being a spoil-sport about all this.”  Yuri grumbled, and bowed his head a little, “I just kind of want to get on the plane to Russia and be done with it…  Move on to practicing for the real competitions.”

"Oho!” Victor laughed, looking a bit surprised at the statement, “The real competitions, eh?  Remember your humble beginnings, lest you forget how far you’ve come, and who helped you along the way.  You haven’t earned the right to be arrogant yet.”

Arrogant?  Yuri echoed mentally, and lifted his eyes incredulously. 

“You can talk like that after you’ve won those five consecutive World Championships you’ve promised me.  Until then, you’re still the skater who got utterly crushed and came in last place, and is now making his comeback performance!"  Victor explained, and raised a hand to lightly pinch his chin, giving a coy look across the table, “…With the help of his five-time-consecutive-World-Champion teacher.”

Yuri just gawked at him with an awkwardly critical smile.  I feel like I should be offended again.  "...Don't pat yourself on the back too hard, Victor, you might hurt yourself."

.

It took a bit of effort to get the sauced Russian back to the hotel room, but Yuri did his best, and was eventually able to drop the man onto his back on their bed.  Thankfully, unlike in China, Victor hadn't gotten to the point where he was stripping in public yet, so Yuri didn't have to go around looking for clothes to put back on him.

"Kanpaaiii Yurriiii...!" The awkwardly-buzzed silver legend was saying in a slur, waving an arm into the air above himself before letting it fall like a rock to the sheets just above his head, and looked to doze into sleep rather quickly.

Yuri watched the whole thing unfold curiously, blinking at the man as Victor slipped away into drunken dreams.  He shook his head and laughed, moving off to peel out of his things and get in a quick shower before going to bed as well.  He turned on the water to get it warming, rummaged through his carry-bag for his clean clothes, and then stepped off towards the bathroom door.  With the hot water spraying down on the top of his head, Yuri put his hand on the tile wall and drew in a deep breath.  It was really starting to hit him how things were going to be changing.

...This will be the last time I shower and sleep on Japanese soil for who-knows-how-long, unless a competition brings us here...maybe not until NHK, if one of us gets assigned next year...  He thought, looking on as the water cascaded over him.  I wonder how different things will be in Russia, living there rather than just passing through for competition?  I didn’t really get out during Rostelecom, since Victor had to leave, and Sochi was putting on a good front because it was set-up for the Olympics.

He briefly thought on that weekend; the room he and Celestino had been put into by the ISU, and the view from the hotel window overlooking the coast of the Black Sea.  It was a beautiful memory, even if the aftermath of it was still painful to recall.

When he'd dried off and changed, he wandered back into the main room, seeing Victor there on the bed where he'd left the man, though turned onto his side by then.  The younger figure stepped over to the foot of the bed and pulled the Russian's shoes off, then moved to the side to peel the comforter from where it had been neatly folded into the space between the mattress and the box-spring, tossing it over his coach's unconscious form like a crêpe.  A few tugs at the remaining blankets, and Yuri was under the cool fabric as well.  He turned off the lights and wiggled his way under the sheets to get closer to his partner, and hugged against the man's back.

Victor seemed to stir a little when he felt it, moving his head up a bit as though he could sense the presence behind him, and brought one hand up to where the other had gone around him...but he never opened his eyes or said anything.  Yuri waited a moment, then decided the man hadn't woken up at all, and moved to wedge his right arm under his partner's neck to let it act like a skinny pillow.  He kissed the top of the man's full head of silver hair, and closed his eyes. 

When he awoke again, he wasn't sure how many hours had passed, but without the glow of dawn behind the curtains, he guessed it was some time in the middle of the night.  He blinked a few times and glanced around, seeing little and less through the blackness, but his fiancé’s absence was telling enough in itself.

"Victor...?" He asked quietly, almost mumbling the words as he wondered after the man.

"Oop-  Sorry, did I wake you up?" The Russian answered, half-whispering, his words followed by the soft clinking of a belt buckle and zipper.  It sounded like he was changing out of his evening-wear somewhere at the foot of the bed, "I thought I was being quiet."

Yuri rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes on the back of one arm, "You were." He said more normally, "I think I just noticed you'd moved away.  I guess I've..."  He started, then paused as he felt the weight of his fiancé getting back onto the bed, this time under all the same sheets he himself was under, and tossed the folded blanket over to its original place.  He first felt warm arms coming around him, then the man's chest against his shoulder, chin resting above it as the Russian slid in to put his head on the same pillow.

"You were saying?" Victor purred, nestling in closer, effectively naked for all Yuri could tell.

"Oh..." He stammered, turning onto his side to face the man, feeling as cool hands came around him, "...I just...  I'm so used to us sleeping together now that I guess I can sense when you're not there...and I woke up to figure out where you were..."

"Hmm..." The Russian hummed, twisting onto his side to get a little closer, and feeling the smaller body next to him do much the same, "I think I know what you mean."  Hands moved a little further down and slipped under the edge of the t-shirt, savoring the feeling of skin against his arms, "I'd almost forgotten what it was like to share a bed with someone that I could touch.  Much as I love Makkachin, cuddling with him just isn't the same."  Victor went on, nosing his fiancé's lips in the dark, "This is much better."

"Sleeping with our dogs has its own benefits." Yuri pointed out with a soft smile, "Though, since you mentioned it...I guess that does kind of make me wonder..."

"...Wonder what?  I think Makkachin spent half his nights in your room." Victor teased, "That traitor...leaving me all cold and by myself."

Yuri shook his head and laughed, wiggled in place to turn around, and then pushed up onto an elbow so he could see his fiancé more easily as their eyes adjusted to the dark, "I actually didn't mean about Makkachin.  I was wondering...  How is it even possible that someone like you was single for so long?  You could've had anyone you wanted, any time you wanted.  Yet, somehow, you were actually available when you went to Hasetsu to chase me down."

"Sure...I could have, and I did, a few times.  The reason I was single after that though was because I was tired of repeatedly becoming single." Victor answered simply, shrugging his softly-carved shoulders against the pillow under his head.  He paused for a moment, gazing up adoringly at the man leaning over him before he raised his ringed hand to stroke a rosy cheek, "My world was full of fans, my coworkers, my boss, and my dog…and not much in between.  So, my pool of options was just with the fans, and unfortunately, it was hard to tell if and when people were being genuine, or just taking advantage.  So I always kept those flings at arm’s length.  Until you, anyway.” Victor said, and leaned up to nuzzle the man fondly, “You’ve restored my faith.”

“All I had to do was get drunk and dry-hump you in public.” Yuri reminded with a laugh, “I suppose you could do worse.”

Victor looked on, gaping a shocked half-smile at the summation, “I-…  Wow.” He stammered, and rolled upward to push his partner down onto his back in the sheets, getting a few ticklish laughs out of the man as he clambered on top of him.  Elbows planted on the sides of both shoulders, and Victor looked down intently, “I could show you just how convincing you were.”

“Oh, please do.” Yuri taunted, issuing that challenging look, finding his courage in the dark, “I dare you.”

“Yuri-“ Victor gasped, “What are you doing to me right now!?  You’re daring me!?”

“And what do you plan to do about it?  Victor Nikiforov.”

The Russian gasped again, “Have you been drinking while I slept!?”

Yuri just looked on, and shook his head softly from side to side, “I want you to make good on your promise.”  He said simply, and wished he could see in the dark; he wanted to check if he’d made his partner blush, if only for the second time. He reached both hands around his partner’s sides, and cupped his hands around the inward curve of his waist.  Further, he lifted one knee, brushing it against the Russian’s leg.

Stunned but giddy, Victor savored every moment, holding gently to his partner and leaned down on his elbows to kiss him adoringly.  He turned his head a few times before shifting his weight to the left arm, freeing his right hand to trace the edge of the younger man’s taut core.  Fumbling for the lower hem of Yuri’s t-shirt, Victor relished in the heat of the skin he found beneath it.  He wasted no time pushing it up as far as it would go before being caught by the man’s weight in the sheets, and pawed at chest and stomach and sides, groping for every inch, kissing him all the while.  He leaned a bit harder onto his left elbow then, and shifted his hip to the blankets, giving Yuri a bit of space to move as well, and pulled on the man’s hip to lift him into the tilt.  Feeling a leg go over his own, Victor reached his hand further around Yuri’s side, feeling around the small of his back, and then the fabric, slipping a finger just under the edge of the back of the man's shorts.  More fingers joined, sliding under the wrinkles of the elastic band, palms curving over his partner's rump, and caressed softly at every inch until he could feel arousal bearing fruit between them. 

He moved his kisses from lips to neck, and his free hand pushed all the way under the fabric still clinging to his fiancé's waist, wanting it gone so he could have easy access to every bit of skin.  He could feel where Yuri bent his legs up under the blanket, but in their positions, it was hard to move the garment away, so it clung crookedly.  Still lying partially on his side, the Russian pushed his partner onto his back and twisted in over him again, perching on the opposite elbow this time so his left hand could have a turn feeling around.  He could feel Yuri's hands on his chest, sliding up to his neck to hold him close and kissed him more eagerly than before.  It was exciting to feel his young partner wanting him, especially after such a long time being intimidated by simple touch.  It was even more shocking when he felt both of his fiancé’s legs come up around him, giving ample room for them to feel each other.

I didn't think he'd get comfortable with this so quickly, Victor thought, sliding his free hand down his beloved's thin, lithe frame, maneuvering it under the far edge of the t-shirt that still clung to the man's form, Maybe he's wanted this longer than even he realized.  There’s no mistaking, he knew what I meant when I made my promise…

The Russian twisted back again, getting evenly on top of his partner, kissing at that pale neck as he went, and felt eager hands pawing on him, one on his chest as the other slid fingers through his hair.  His gentle rubbing was met eagerly, and Victor pulled up a little bit to bring his knees around, pinning the younger man between them as he held himself up on his hands.  Legs wrapped around his waist felt like Heaven, but Victor wanted to hear it, too.

From that position, pulling that pesky pair of black briefs off was easy, and Yuri pulled his knees and ankles up to help get rid of it, only to slide them back down around the Russian’s waist right after.  Slowly beginning the descent, the silver legend kissed his partner deeply one more time, pressing firmly against his front, then moved down to his neck.  He nibbled greedily at the man's chest, hands roaming over his sides, and continued down lower than he'd gone before.  He could feel the body under him squirming slightly, holding in a gasp as he dipped his tongue into the dip of his naval. 

That, finally, got Yuri to make some noise, and he hissed in a surprise gasp at the wet heat.  In the dark, it was difficult to tell what was going on, but the young, frantic athlete could still see his partner's darkened silhouette, even if only barely; he could feel what he couldn't see.  Yuri's heart pounded in his chest, more from the need than the fear he used to have.  The feeling he'd been so eager for came sooner than he expected, and he gasped aloud as he felt the warmth and wetness sliding from root to tip, pushing up onto his elbows in surprise.  It didn't stop though, and felt his partner kissing the length of him, going back down and then up again, licking once more before using thin fingers to lift him up, taking the tip into his mouth.  Yuri's legs pinched hard, and he dropped back down to his back, hands clenching into the sheets as he gasped out quietly against each new sensation.  Eventually, he managed the presence of mind to bring one hand back up to his mouth, stifling the sounds he would otherwise be uttering loudly into the darkness.

Still, he couldn't help but whimper desperately against his hand...at least until he couldn't anymore.  He pulled the hand away as he felt the Russian moving around, arms coming to rest across the sides of his hips, one hand grasped around him as the man's mouth continued to lick, kiss, and suck at the head of his arousal.  With every dip and bob, he could feel silver bangs brushing against his skin, dragging slightly and then lifting off again.  He felt goosebumps rising up all over his body the longer it went on.  One hand slid up the front of his core, settling palm-down just below his chest as the wet warmth left his center.

One hazel eye crept open to figure out why Victor had stopped, but just as his vision came back into focus, is was plain to see and feel that nothing had stopped...it had just changed.  Victor had only withdrawn so he could lick and nibble at the sides again, traveling up and down the length of it, trailing his tongue over every part of it until it glistened in the dark between them, then took it wholly into his mouth again.

Yuri dropped his head down against the pillows, his hands clawing at the t-shirt still clinging to his frame, biting at it where he could and whimpered with each twist and suck.  He gasped louder as he felt himself inching towards release, but then felt an overwhelming sense of alarm, and he pushed up onto an elbow, "V-Victor, I'm about to...you shouldn't..." He stammered, and reached a shaky, trembling hand down towards the man's head to make him stop before it could happen. 

Victor was well aware, however, and had no intention of letting it all end so soon. 

Before Yuri could touch a single strand of that silver hair, he felt the man lift off of him, kissing at his stomach and chest instead.  It was almost torture that the warmth of that mouth was gone - even if it was a relief that the 'threat' of finishing there was abated for the moment - but just as Yuri glanced down past the edge of his stretched-out shirt, he felt one hand take hold of him again, and all thought left him.  He dropped his head back down to the pillow and let his fiancé do as he wanted.  The kisses returned to his neck, hand pumping quickly, slowed only when the Russian brought himself against him, but then picked up again.  Yuri's hands were up around his partner's back as before, almost clawing at his skin, careful to keep his palms flat and fingers straight despite how intense the pressure was getting.

It was almost like Victor could read his mind, holding himself up on one elbow as his other hand continued at its task between them, hips slowly starting to rock.  He touched their nose-tips gently, whispering against his lips, "Do it."

"...H-hah...?"

"Don't hold back." Victor answered, "I can feel how hard you're trying to resist.  Scratch me...claw at me...  I want to feel you..."  It was hard for him to see, but the silver Russian could tell his partner had an anxious look on his face.  It was getting harder and harder to resist though, and he could feel the man's form pressing up into him, his back arching slightly where his hips bucked gently under him.  Victor could sense when his fiancé's confidence shifted a little, hooking one arm around the back of his neck and shoulder as the fingers on the other hand raked across his skin, forcing him to gasp out in surprise. 

The younger man's legs wrapped tightly around Victor's waist, and Yuri pushed up onto the elbow of his free arm, pressing himself harder against his partner's center until he could push himself up higher to perch on a hand instead.  His grip over the Russian's shoulder softened, hand cupped against the man's cheek, putting their foreheads together as the pumping between them continued uninterrupted.  Victor's other hand came around the small of his partner's back and helped to hold him up, and the first soon joined it as Yuri's came down to take its place.  Legs held tighter around the Russian's frame, Yuri’s own hands sliding around their mutual heat, slickened by his gift and excitement. 

Perhaps a bit selfishly, or perhaps because of a lack of experience, Yuri couldn't stop himself from finishing when he felt himself on the edge, even though his partner was far from it still.  Thankfully, as the silver genius quickly noticed, once spent, Yuri just let himself go and continued the pulls and squeezes on that remaining adamant flesh. 

Victor held his fiancé closer, breathing harder with each tug.  Soon, he could barely hold himself up, let alone his partner, and he lowered Yuri down to his back again.  He held himself up on his hands for as long as he could, head dipping low between his shoulders, though finding his forehead against the man's chest as his strength waned.  He pushed his hands against the fabric and slid them under his partner's back, fingers clambering at the younger man's skin as he felt himself getting closer. 

Hips pushed against palms and fingers, slowly at first but then more forcefully, until all Yuri could do was hold his hands still, feeling his partner slide through his grasp.  He pressed his cheek against the side of his fiancé's head, knees up on either side of his toned core, feeling as every push brought the man closer to the edge, until finally, the pale figure's body clenched up and he cried out against his shoulder.  Hot liquid dripped onto his stomach and over his fingers, and Yuri felt a strange sense of pride that he'd helped bring that famed Russian to such ends.

Victor pushed through his partner's fingers a few more times before he slumped down to his side, breathing heavily against that favorite spot on Yuri's neck.  He rolled onto his back after that, heaving breaths raggedly, his whole frame shaking slightly, such that he didn't notice when the blankets were pulled back of them both.  He felt wisps of raven hair gently tease across the skin of his chest, the head it belonged to settling against him soon after, and he brought his arm up to curl around his partner's back.  They each caught their breath in their own time, and the sweat that had beaded on their skin dried against the sheets and cool air of the room. 

“I…I told you…” Victor mused quietly, his heart still thrumming under his skin, “I told you that you'd be begging for it one day." Victor answered, smirking in the dark, turning his head to kiss the top of his partner's, "Who knew it…would happen so soon…"

Yuri could feel his cheeks redden, and he smiled coyly, “Y-you make it…look so easy…  It’s…hard not to…want to try it, myself…” He answered, and wiggled his weary frame closer to his partner’s side, nestling in close, “Besides…”

“Besides?” The silver echoed, turning his head on the pillow to face the younger man in the dark.

“What better way…to go back to sleep…than to wear each other out?”

“A mad-man and a genius after my own heart.”

.

After the finale for the Pair Skaters and Ice Dancers ended, there was a brief intermission before the Exhibition started.  It was fun and light-hearted, despite Yuri's dour affect from the day before; Victor had done a good job cheering him up.  He performed 'Firebird' again for the sake of his home-front redemption, and also for lack of a new program, since he hadn't expected to still be skating...and then sat back excitedly to see how people would react when he let slip that Victor had 'accidentally' brought his 'Aria' costume and skates.  There was some brief talk by the JSF event coordinators, but in the end, they decided to throw him out there as 'thanks' for bringing their top skater back to the Grand Prix Final...and humbly take credit for being the first event the Russian would perform at after announcing his return to competition.

"Yakov is going to have a heart attack to hear that I skated at a JSF event, considering he just told me not to get ideas about switching teams." Victor pointed out, quietly laughing at the absurdity of it all, and held one finger along his jaw as he came back from the changing room, "I'm never going to hear the end of it when we get to St. Petersburg..."

"Probably not." Yuri agreed with a wary smile.  He wore his team jacket, the garment hanging off his shoulders as he walked alongside his fiancé, skate-guards thunk'ing along the floor with each step, and he carried the bag with Victor's skates, "And they already knew you were going to be here because of me, so...it’s probably not going to be that much of a surprise."

"I guess it was fortunate then that I had to leave this outfit at the Ice Castle when I carried you back to the resort.  It's an honor to get to perform just for your crowd." Victor added agreeably.  When he finished warming up, he swapped dress-shoes for skates, and handed off his long-coat. 

Yuri held to it dutifully, but paused when Victor looked down at his own hands, and then up and around himself, "What's the matter?"

"It's just...twice in the span of as many days, I'm wearing this outfit to go out onto the ice.  I never actually thought I'd perform 'Aria' again after Worlds, either because of retirement or a number of other reasons. Kind of makes me feel like I'm 26 again." Victor answered, sliding his hands down his front to smooth the sheer jacket against his chest, "...Hard to accept that I just turned 28.  I don't really have that much time left anymore."

"What are you talking about?  You turn 24 every year." Yuri countered, putting his hands into his pockets, and lifted his head to hear the end of the music that had been playing before, "It’ll stop for me when I turn 24, too.  Right?"  He gave a wink of his own.

"You are absolutely right." Victor nodded adamantly, reaching to slip his hand into his beloved's pocket, threading their fingers together within it, "We’ll be young and vibrant forever, even when we’re old in our wheelchairs, gumming our food for lack of teeth."

“That’s the spirit,” Yuri laughed.  They started moving towards the curtain that lead to rink-side, and the Russian felt a nudge against his elbow, "Honestly though, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon." Yuri said, smiling, "Even if not for my promise to you...you're Victor Nikiforov...I doubt the world would just let you ride off into the sunset without chasing after you for something."

Blue eyes blinked in surprise, stopping the advance of gold-bladed skates along the floor.  Yuri stopped and looked back when he felt the tug, seeing where it seemed like Victor was almost dumbstruck by what he'd said.

"...What?"

"Do you really think I'd just disappear...?" The taller man wondered, as though it hadn't occurred to him.

"Me?  No." Yuri said nervously, "To hear you say it though, sometimes it feels like that's what you think would happen...  Is that not what you meant?"

Victor shrugged and tried to put on a smile, "I hadn't really let myself think about life after skating.  For the last 20 years or so, that's all my life has been about.  I...can't even imagine..."

"Then don't." Yuri said suddenly, trying to look cheerful, and cut off that whole line of thought, "You've already agreed to stay with me in this thing for one more year, and to keep being my coach until I retire.  Who knows what will happen over the next few years?  Approach each season like a new beginning and anything is possible."

The Russian just blinked at him again.  He tilted his head and smiled, reaching up with his free hand to cup the side of the man's face affectionately, "It's like you know how to get into my head.  What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Me?" The younger skater echoed, and gently took that ringed hand to kiss the band thereupon, "I ask myself the same question about you."

Victor huffed a laugh at that, but then moved to get through the curtain.  The skater who had just finished her Exhibition was coming off the ice, and the spotlights moved around rink-side until they fell upon the doorway.  They followed the young Ladies skater as she made her final bow and wave, disappearing into the dark beside the duo before going dark.  The arena filled with a quiet murmur as they waited for the lights to come back on and the announcer to thank them all for coming.  However, magenta and cobalt lights turned on, flitting around the ice unexpectedly, and the murmuring quieted.

The Russian held his hand to his fiancé's shoulder as he leaned to pull the guards from his blades, and handed them off.  He drew in an anxious breath, and looked from the ice to hazel eyes, "I don't think I've been this nervous in years."

"You're nervous?" Yuri echoed, a bit surprised, "I know you like surprising people, but...that one's got me floored."

"Right?" Victor chuffed, and reached with one hand to boop his partner's nose.

[Ladies and gentlemen...] The announcer overhead said in Japanese, voice booming around the Big Hat arena’s interior, [The final performance of today's National Championship Exhibition Gala...special guest, representing the Russian Skating Federation from St. Petersburg as a returning competitor, and representing Japan as coach to our own Katsuki Yuri...performing last season's 'Aria: Stay Close to Me,' please give a warm welcome to Victor Nikiforov!]

The crowd started screaming.  It somehow got even louder when they saw the silver slide out into view, and Victor raised up his arms to greet them in the dark, letting the cheers wash over him like the waters of a baptism.  It was the first time Victor had been on the ice like that since he was given his Gold at Worlds the year before.  Yuri could see that real, genuine smile on his face as the cameras focused on him, showing the man on the big screens above the ice.  The screaming in the audience continued in waves until Victor finally took his position in the middle.

Yuri gladly leaned his elbows onto the edge of the rink wall, and settled into the palpable anticipation.  Victor used to greet the audience like a King, taking the cheering on as though it were his birthright.  But here...  He watched his fiancé draw in a deep breath, kiss his ring, and let his hands go down to his sides.  Victor bowed his head, and folded one skate behind the other.  ...It's completely different from before; he's been reborn. 

The quiet hum of 'Aria' began above them, and the Russian lifted his head, bringing his right hand up to his face before he dipped forward to begin the dance.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT

Victor hadn't waited long to introduce his fiancé to the luxury of Business Class, having refused to fly Economy even one more time after their return from the Final.  Yuri, of course, was entirely thrown off by the whole thing.

"...I feel so out of place here." He commented quietly as they slipped through the check-in counter, walking nervously into the Emirates Lounge in the Tokyo Narita International Airport. 

Immediately within - hidden behind the walls so anyone who wasn’t flying with that airline couldn’t see from outside – was a large lounge area with a big water-fountain display on one side.  It was about the size of two hot-tubs, with lights mounted on the bottom to shine at the centerpiece; two fused rectangular pillars about 4 feet high, with a flower arrangement on the top.  All around them were single-person upholstered leather seats, some colored orange and others off-white, clustered into groups of 2 to 4, with lamps on various wood-laminate tables set between them.  The walls were a dark taupe color, and covered with fabric to buffer the echo of the airport, making the area feel rather homey and quiet.  There was even a small 'business center' area along the wall as they went by, with two computers and a fax machine on the end.

"You'll get used to it." Victor explained, rubbing his thumb gently over where he held to his partner's hand between them, "Once you've done it like this enough times, it's unbearable to fly any other way."

"...Yeah, that time you asked for champagne when we were flying to China was really weird.  Is that...standard in First Class or something?"

The Russian walked them slowly through the first lounge area and into a second, where the decor changed slightly.  The chairs were all the same, but there were rectangular pillars between the groups, making it seem like each group of chairs was nestled in their own separate alcove.  It was a bit darker in that area as well, especially closer to the wall, where it looked like other passengers were trying to catch a nap before their flights.

"On First and Business Class, yeah." Victor answered, slowing his pace slightly to let the younger figure get a better look around as they made their way towards the dining area, "You want some dinner?  We won't land for the layover in Dubai for another 12 hours."

"...Tw-twelve hours!?" Yuri balked, though trying to keep his voice down.

"...Yeah, then the layover is 10 hours, then we fly another 7 hours to St. Petersburg." The Russian didn't understand what the fuss was about, "...I gave you the itinerary days ago."

"...I...didn't look at it." Yuri sighed, "I thought I'd leave it all as a surprise for myself, so I'd pay attention to my surroundings rather than the time."  He grudgingly pulled out his phone and went to his email, letting his amused partner pull him along into the dining area.

...10pm from Tokyo Narita, landing in Dubai at 4:55am...then leaving again at 3:30pm and landing in St. Petersburg at...8:45pm.

Brown eyes looked up, a bit exacerbated and flustered, "...What a long flight..."

“I fail to see a problem with it.” Victor commented again, “We’ll be flying in the lap of luxury, with all the leg-space a man could ask for.  We’ll be pampered and comfortable.  Then in Dubai, it’ll be another fancy lounge, probably more so even than this one, and then off again on the next cozy flight into the motherland.” He explained, letting go of his fiancé's hand to reach for a plate near the buffet display.

"How do you even afford flights like this as often as you go globe-trotting?" Yuri wondered skeptically.

"I guess I’ve been pretty blessed with all the stuff on the side that I’ve gotten to do because of my skating!" The Russian laughed, offering a second plate to his partner, "I had to fly with the team to Sochi though.  We flew with a different airline back then, and it was in Economy.  I'd rather it take longer and be more comfortable though...being squashed into those tiny Aeroflot sardine-can seats for 10 hours can feel like eternity."

"...They're really not that bad..." Yuri contested quietly as he took the offered plate and moved down the line, collecting a few bits of bread and rice as he found them, "Are you claustrophobic or something?"

"Claustrophobic?  Pah!" Victor guffawed, looking back, "Good sir, I beg your attention to these legs.  Gaze upon them, for they are long." He gestured down at them, and they were indeed long.

"Like a baby giraffe." Yuri laughed, then trying to decide between Japanese curry sauce and the chicken shahjahani.  He paid Victor’s indignant deadpan reaction no mind, indecisively glancing back and forth between the two white-ceramic hot-plates, but eventually reached for the spoon for the latter.

"Maybe you’re right.” Victor puffed, and started to scan the buffet selections, “Baby giraffes need a lot of space, too.  I guess it goes all the way back to the beginning, even before I was this tall.  Where I came from, there wasn't any light-pollution from the big cities...so on some nights, you could go outside and see the Auroras, and there were so many stars...more than you would imagine could even exist in a single sky.  You’d look up and it was like seeing into eternity."

"Oh wow." Yuri paused for a moment, trying to imagine it, "So you come from a small town?  I can't believe I never really asked you about that stuff the whole time you were in Hasetsu."  He found himself thoroughly distracted from the buffet then, "Now that I think about it, I have so many questions!  How old were you when you started skating?  What kind of rink did you go to?  How did you decide to get into competition?  Have you been training under Yakov since the start or was it someone else at first?  Did you ever train abroad or overseas like I did?  Were you ever able to convince your parents to go to competition or were they oblivious to it all like mine were?"

The questions went on like bullets from a machinegun, but Victor just watched in silence, blinking once or twice in surprise before Yuri finally stopped to catch his breath.  He looked on to see those desperately-inquisitive brown eyes glancing at him, so he shrugged and smiled, "...Yes, technically since I was 5, an old one, I liked it, in a way, and sort of."

Yuri was the one blinking that time, trying to recall the questions he'd asked so he could match the answers to them, only to realize Victor had started to walk off again, "Wh-...hey!  You didn’t answer all of those!"  He caught up quickly enough, taking the seat opposite the older skater, "Victor...?"

Cool blue eyes were looking down at the items on the plate beneath them, but then rose quietly.

"What about the rest...?  You practically know my whole life’s story, but the best I can get about you is written in a book somewhere, and it’s only about your skating career, not about you."

The silver feigned a smile, sticking a fork straight through the center of a small, grape-sized green fruit, "It's more fun to talk about the stuff after I joined the ISU."  He lifted the fork and bit the fruit in half, glanced at the core and smirked; he spun it around to show it off, "Look, Yuri!  It's a kiwi-berry!  It's like a kiwi but berry-sized!" He turned it around again though and looked at it more seriously, putting his free hand on his chin to keenly observe the morsel, "Not quite as tart though...it's more...sweet than anything, like an over-ripe kiwi..."  He ate the other half after that and picked at the rest of his plate, keeping his eyes down, even though he reached his feet under the table to wrap around his fiancé's nearest ankle.

The whole time, Yuri just stared at him, tilting his head a bit in a gaze that was equal parts confusion, amazement, and stunned silence.

...He blew off the rest of my questions like they were dirt on his shoulder.  I wonder what that was about...?

.

Stepping onto the Emirates plane, the naïve traveler thought immediately to turn right to go to Economy, but Victor's hand guided him to the left, taking him down one of the aisles of Business Class.  The Russian glanced at the center array of seats, where they were arranged into pairs.  On the walls of the cabin, more of the same kinds of seats, but set apart on their own as singular seats for solo travelers. 

"There are ours." Victor then said, stopping about 2/3rds of the way towards First Class and pointed to the two seats on the inside aisle.  He turned to stuff his travel-case and suit-bag into the overhead compartment, then shuffled in to take the seat on the far side, letting his partner follow in after to take the seat he'd passed to get there. 

Yuri found himself oddly shocked to see the seats once he got there, his eyes glaring dubiously at a thick plastic divider between them, "...Hm."

"What?" The Russian had paused where he was, half-way to sitting, with a hand on each arm-rest and a few items set on his lap; items Yuri barely acknowledged until he saw there were some on his own seat as well.  Victor realized those eyes were staring at the divider between their seats, “Oh, this thing?”

"Don't the designers of these fancy planes know that couples travel together?" He wondered idly, moving to tilt forward and grab the assorted things that were waiting in his spot; a bag with socks and an eye-mask, and a larger bag with a thin blanket inside.

"Aww!" Victor cooed, finally finishing his descent in his spot, and leaned against the back of his wrist, elbow on the seat-divider as he watched his partner lower down, "You've already gotten so comfortable calling us that, saying it out loud like that."

Yuri's cheeks flushed, and he soon met his fiancé on the dividing block.  Two fingers barely touched the man's skin, and he looked deeply into those blue eyes, speaking quietly, "I've gotten comfortable with a lot of things."

"Do I still make your heart race?" Victor asked adoringly, though he bat his eyes rather dramatically at his beloved.

Yuri puffed a quiet laugh and rubbed his thumb against that closest cheek, "Every day." He answered, and moved to buckle himself into his seat so he wouldn't have to think about it later.

The Russian smiled, and his own heart skipped a beat for it.  To relieve his fiancé's annoyance though, he gently pushed the divider down into its hidey-hole between the seats; it had only been set half-way up as a declaration of its existence, in case someone wanted it, "...It doesn't go all the way down, but I think it's enough.  Maybe one day I can take you on my favorite flight and we'll have a whole private cabin just to ourselves."

"Really?" Yuri wondered, looking up from the contents of the bags, "What kind of flight has private cabins?"

"The expensive kind that involves Paris."

.

When they'd finally landed for their Arabian layover, it was an easy thing to go to the next First Class Lounge and get a little more sleep.  Though the rest area was open, each pair of curved, reclining chairs was set between dividing posts, making each 'cubby' area in the hall feel parsed and secluded.  There weren't many other travelers there at that time of morning though, so when Yuri sat in the first one he saw, dropping his bag next to it and pulling the eye-mask from the flight out of his coat pocket, he knew what he'd be doing next.

Victor checked his phone one last time, looked at the clock's reading of 5:43am and huffed a quiet sigh to himself.  He then set an alarm, clicked it off again, and spotted his partner trying to get comfortable, dark circles under those eyes where the hapless traveler was desperate for sleep.  He smiled and pulled his long-coat off, letting it hang from his hand as he made his way down to join the man, and made sure the length of the coat stayed over him as he nestled in closer.  He could feel the twitch of sleepy surprise, and the wiggle as Yuri tried to back up into him, hand reaching back to grasp at one arm and pull it over.  Victor let Yuri have it easily, and wasted no time nuzzling at the back of the man's head fondly, "Just a few more hours...  Just a...few more..."  He whispered, just as he dozed off to sleep.  Those told-of hours seemed to pass in a blink though, but as he roused, he realized the world had gone entirely dark.  His coat had been pulled entirely over his head, keeping the light of the airport out of his eyes.  But, he could see the light of his phone where it had slipped out of his jacket's inside pocket, and had fallen into the gap between his and his fiancé's bodies.  Just as he reached to grab it, he realized he was actually receiving a phone-call, seeing a name in Cyrillic on the screen.

Яков Фельцман

Victor grumbled and answered, "Da?"  He said tiredly, and yawned as he reached up from under his jacket to push it down at the end of a stretch, listening to his coach's words, "Yes, we're about halfway back; there's only some seven hours left before we're there." He explained quietly, sitting on the edge of the curved seats with his ankles crossed ahead of himself, "We should be landing in St. Petersburg around 9pm.  ...No, would you mind?  Has he been causing you any trouble?  ...Oh, haha, so the usual then, he's a nutcase.  ...Ah okay, perfect.  ...Thanks, see you soon."  He said and hung up, then turned his head aside to look at his beloved, "You awake?"

"Yeah." Yuri answered quietly, "Who were you talking to?"

"Yakov." The silver answered, waggling the phone in his hand before he put it back into its home in his jacket.

"What time is it in St. Petersburg right now...?" Yuri followed, and wiggled in place so he could lay on his back as well, chin over one shoulder so he could see his partner evenly.  He brought one hand up from under the jacket and touched his fingertips on the Russian's pale skin, brushing a few silver hairs out of those blue eyes.

"It's only an hour behind this place." Victor explained, "He's going to come pick us up when we get to the city.  I took a taxi to the airport when I first went to Japan, so my little red rocket-car isn't in long-term parking waiting for us.  Not that I'd want to drive it after all this time, if it had been parked there all along.  All these months, not moving..."

"...Wow, yeah, I hadn't thought about that." Yuri said, idly combing his fingers through silver bangs, "You haven't been home in almost a year.  Your place is probably all dusty, too."

"One more reason why I'm glad we went to Nationals before coming here." Victor explained, "I had time to hire some people to clean the place up and get my utilities turned back on.  Had to ask a traveling mechanic to go check on the car, too...it was probably in rough shape after sitting there for so long."  The Russian suddenly laughed nervously, "I kind of dropped everything and left, not making any preparations for the trip, but I wanted to be sure it was perfect before I brought you to see it.  After all, it's your home now."

Cheeks flushed a little at the mention of it.

"So, what do you feel like eating?  It's close to noon now."

It wasn't much, to Victor's surprise.  Yuri nibbled on a small fruit salad and had a coffee, but that was basically it; Victor started picking at what was left so it wouldn't go to waste.  Yuri was so scattered that it was hard to maintain conversation after a while, so Victor surmised it would be better to wait.  Once they were done though, they wandered around a bit, taking in the odd and interesting sights of the Dubai airport.  Yuri occupied the time with some photo-taking, completely enamored by the imagery of the decorations.  There were massive palm trees in the halls, as well as a huge white pillars holding up the 3-story ceiling.

"I noticed that you never post anything online." The Russian mentioned a little while later, casually standing in the boarding area as their block was called to rise, "I know you have an account at least, and you take enough pictures to share..."

"Oh..." Yuri said, distracted, "Yeah, I usually don't post anything.  I'm on so many other peoples' posts that I never thought it was worth making my own."

"I'm sure lots of people would like to follow you without having to hunt down who you're with first." The silver pointed out, and stepped forward to give their tickets to the clerk behind the podium, "I mean, they know you're with me these days, but still.  My posts are about my life.  You may be a constant part of it now, but I can only say so much before there are gaps in your narrative.  I can’t post your thoughts."

They moved down the long ramp to where the tunnel connected with the side of the plane, entered, and followed to where their next set of assigned seats waited.  Yuri flopped back into the plush chair, finding it more comfortable than the first plane they'd been on, and sat in silence while the rest of the plane filled up, scanning Instagram for last-minute updates while he still had the chance.  Victor was putting his suit-bag and their backpacks into the carry-on compartment above their seats.

One passenger stopped with a startled gasp, gaping at the pair as though she'd seen a unicorn, "...Y-Yuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov!  I...I don't believe it...!"

Yuri blanched, unwillingly sucked out of his focus, but Victor was all smiles, "It's us~!"

The young brunette woman felt a shove from behind and pulled out of the line to step into the small alcove, and apologized for interrupting them, "Is there any chance I could get a...a photo with you two?  Please!"

"Of course!" The excitable Russian answered for both of them, pulling his partner up with him as the woman got her phone out and set her camera to selfie-mode.  They crammed in together so their faces were all in the frame, and when the flash went off, Yuri felt like he was seeing stars.  But, it was over...or so he thought.

"I was so inspired by your Free Skate.  It was extremely moving." The woman was saying, though the dazzled skater was sure she was talking to Victor because...well, why wouldn't she?  Victor had just skated at the end of the All Japan Exhibition and everyone was still really excited about it.  "It was like night and day compared to the previous year in Sochi.  Can I ask what happened?  You'd been doing so well before that...and then you just seemed to fall apart."

Yuri then realized she was actually talking to him, and coughed uncomfortably, "I...er..."  He felt Victor's hand on the small of his back, and it helped ground him, "I-I…got some bad news from my family that weekend, and it messed me up.  I couldn't focus."

"I...I'm so sorry.  I had no idea." The woman was taken aback by the answer. 

"Thank you...it's okay now." He explained quietly, and moved to sit back down.  Victor followed suit, and the woman started to get back into the shuffle that took her into the area further back.

"Good luck at 4CCs, Yuri!  And congratulations on your first GPF medal!"

"Spasibo!" Victor answered, watching her disappear again with a wave, smiling to himself as he saw her fangirling over her phone.  He turned back to his fiancé and reached for the man's tensed hand, patting it gently, "That wasn't so bad."

Yuri just grumbled, "I'm so bad with fans."

"It gets easier." His partner reassured, "I'll protect you from the crazy ones.  She seemed nice though.  But you see?  I bet, if you posted to Instagram once in a while, she'd be one of your followers.  Maybe she already is and inwardly wonders why you never post anything."

"Maybe." Yuri said with a sigh.  The flow of people boarding the plane had reduced to a trickle by that point, "But you remember when I told you about that girl once that tried to hug me and I pushed her off?"

"Sure."

"Posting photos of myself online...I think it would feel like that...  Except that since it's me going out of my way to post that stuff, it's more like an invitation for people to poke and prod at my life."

Victor looked on at him curiously, but then simply clasped the man's anxious hand a bit tighter where it was sitting on the arm-rest between them, "Is it okay when I post photos of us?"

"When you post?  Well, of course it is." Yuri was perplexed, looking at his partner with a start, only to turn his head again, "I guess I hadn't thought about it.  When I see myself in other peoples' photos, I just see it as a nod that I'm a part of their life.  But you’re right; it doesn't really say much about me on my own.  Phichit-kun used to post a lot of photos of us together when we trained in Detroit, even if my being in them was more of a photo-bomb than intentional sometimes."

"Oh, really~!?" The Russian was excited, and whipped his own phone out again to go digging up the Thai skater's archive, "I want to see!"

Yuri could only smile, and leaned to rest his cheek against his coach's shoulder while he skimmed through hundreds of old photos.  Phichit was a prolific selfie-taker, so there were more photos on his account than on probably most others.  It took about 30 minutes before they really found anything that Yuri recognized, having to troll through nearly a year of newer content, but by then, the plane had started to taxi.

"It's a shame that the WiFi on these planes is so appallingly slow." The silver commented, though smiling on several amusing shots from the Detroit Skate Club; many were obviously from practice, but there were a lot more of just Phichit's daily life, including a few he'd taken of Yuri in the apartment they'd shared while training together.  Victor squinted his eyes at one photo in particular, "...Is that your bedroom?"

Yuri glanced at it, "Yeah."

"...Is that a picture of me on your shelf?"

Hazel eyes shot open, and the petrified man swiped the phone right out of his partner's hands, "N-No!  Don't look!"

.

It was just after 9pm local time when the pair were finally at Pulkovo Airport in St. Petersburg, going past the luggage carousel to pick up Yuri's one suitcase, and then moved towards the doors where people could leave the airport.  Victor scanned the area just in front of the exit and spotted Yakov from a distance away, easily visible in the late-night sparsely-populated terminal. 

The coach was alone at first...but then he wasn't.

A certain blonde teenager was with him, to the mutual surprise of both skaters, "Yurio!"

"It's about goddamn time you got back here, Victor." The Russian Punk barked quietly, ignoring Yuri outright, "Took long enough.  The RSF folks were livid when they heard you weren't coming home straight from the Final.  They've been putting off the post-event conference until after you got back."

"Nice to see you, too." Victor mused.

The bristling figure grimaced, and turned stiffly from his rink-mate to the out-of-place Asian skater holding the man's hand, "Katsudon."

"Hey, Yurio." Yuri waved nervously, "How's your grandpa?"

"Tired.  He moved to St. Petersburg after the Final to lighten the load, but there's still unpacking to do.  Getting ready for Russian Nationals meant I wasn't around much to help him, because I was down in Moscow, where he had just come from." The teen was glaring heavily at his older counterpart.

"Did you bring Makkachin with you?" Victor wondered, completely ignoring the blonde and redirected his attention to Yakov, who to that point had said nothing.

"He's outside with Mila." The elder answered, "But Yuri is right, it's about time you got back.  It's unheard of for the commission to wait for a returning skater when they have a Gold Medalist to talk to.  I'm surprised they didn't go ahead and host it after you were caught skating for Japan this weekend."

The silver Russian blinked and made a face, "It was just for fun.  I hadn't even planned on doing it.  I just happened to have my 'Aria' costume on-hand because I almost left it at the Ice Castle.  It was returned to me right as Yuri and I were heading to the train station.  The JSF just kind of happened to find out about it…somehow, magically."

"You didn't need your skates for All Japan."

"Oh Yakov, you're talking like you think I cheated on you." Victor laughed, "I didn't join the JSF, if that's what you're worried about...and you know as well as anyone that I always bring my skates in my carry-on bag."

"Some would think you were considering it after all the time you spent out there."

Yuri felt himself sinking where he stood, every word sounding like it was a hair's width away from being made his fault.  He soon felt a tug against his hand though, and shook his head, seeing his partner there trying to get his attention.

"Hey, we're going...are you still with us?" The man smiled.

"...The RSF is mad at you, like I worried they would be."

"Yeah...seems so.  I really didn't think they'd wait for me; I had no idea." Victor shrugged, "Oh well!  Let's go then.  We can tell them that I'm back and we can do what should've been done two weeks ago."

The group started heading to the exit, and Victor spotted that telltale brown poodle.  He looked to Yuri excitedly, and the younger man smiled and nodded, letting him go to reunite with this pup; Victor quickly took off and rushed outside.  The dog noticed him immediately and pulled Mila to get to him, barking and yipping desperately as the woman yelped in surprise.  The woofer licked his human's face and jumped all over him in greeting, and Victor loved every second of it.

Yuri and Yurio slowly pulled up from the back, coming out after Yakov.

"Thank you for looking after Makkachin for me." Victor said happily, and stood up to take the leash from Mila, who was entirely unimpressed with the dog's sudden energy so late at night.

"You should've had him ride with you." Yakov scolded, "Spending the weekend at my place was crazy.  That dog was a nervous wreck the entire time you were gone."

"I couldn't take him to the competition, and I didn't want to leave him at Yu-Topia, since the trip back to collect him would’ve taken more time.  Sending him ahead was the easier option."  Victor explained, smiling happily as Makkachin went over and greeted his second human with the same enthusiasm he himself had received. 

Yuri got down on one knee to pet the poodle, happy to see him again, too.  Unlike Victor though, Yuri was easy to bowl over, and before long, the dog was licking his face while he flailed on his back on the ground like an upended turtle. 

Yurio had to wedge his leg between them to get the dog off long enough for the older skater to get up again, and looked annoyed the entire time, "Let's go already; it's boring here."

"You didn't have to come." Yuri pointed out, letting his partner help him back up to his feet, and used his sleeve to wipe the drool off his face.

"I just wanted to be sure I saw Victor arrive with my own eyes.  Now I have.  So let's go."

.

The drive to the house was cramped and fairly quiet; Yuri was wedged in the back seat of Yakov's black Mercedes between the two Russian skaters.  Mila sat in the front passenger seat, talking about the usual things that happened while Victor was gone, up to and including Georgi's reaction to having Gold taken away from him at Nationals by a kid almost half his age. 

"He was so convinced he'd get Gold this year since you couldn't make it!" She said with a laugh, "You should've seen the look on his face when Yuri outscored him by such a huge margin!  He swiped it right out of Georgi's hands!"

"Nego ne bylo šansov."  (He never had a chance.) Yurio corrected, speaking in Russian for some reason; it set Yuri on edge rather quickly, perhaps being the Punk's intention, [He should be grateful for Silver.  It's all he can hope for now that I'm in Seniors.]

"Mila, it's not professional or sportsmanlike to make fun of your rink-mates." Yakov scolded, ignoring his younger student's comment entirely.

The redhead huffed and crossed her arms, "But it's Georgi!  He's been coming second to Victor since he started skating.  Even Georgi's birthday comes the day after Victor's.  I think the only thing Georgi ever did first was joining the Skating Club, but it's all been seconds after that.  It's a huge joke!"

"Not to him."

"Alright alright..." She turned to look out the window, scratching at Makkachin's fluffy head to distract herself.  The dog had nowhere else to sit but in the footwell between her knees, and he stared at his human - through the gap between the two front seats - the entire drive.

Yuri felt entirely out of place, but since he was holding Victor's costume bag on his lap, he at least felt like he had some purpose.  Victor, of course, kept his arm protectively over his shoulders, making it feel more like he was keeping him close on purpose, rather than because he was being shoved over by Yurio.  The drive took nearly an hour, and Yuri looked out the windows in silence as the Russian team conversed amongst themselves about official skating business; Yurio never broke character, and spoke in Russian the entire time, never mind the fact that everyone else spoke in English.  Yuri took in the sights of St. Petersburg with rapt curiosity and ignored the Punk’s rudeness, hoping that he would someday know those roads and buildings as well as he did Hasetsu's.  They even got to pass the skating rink where they'd be training.

"Yuri." Yakov suddenly said.

"Čto?" (What?) Yurio answered naturally, though both of them lifted their heads at the mention.

"The other one." Yakov corrected, "Katsuki."

"Y-Yessir?"

"Tsh." The teen scoffed and looked back out the window bitterly, slouching where he sat.  He spread his knees even further apart just to take more space from his older counterpart.

"What plans do you have for Worlds?  You scored Gold this weekend in Japan, so there's no doubt you'll be getting chosen by the JSF to represent Japan if you want to go."

"Of course." Yuri answered, “I’m going to-“

"My reason for asking is just for the sake of ISU expenses for traveling.  If you're staying here to train under Vitya, and he's training under me, then it would just be easier to have everyone coordinate things together.  For Worlds, you should travel and stay with us."

"Is that okay?  I mean, I'm not on the Russian team...I don't want to impose."

"It's just traveling," Yurio said curtly, finally speaking in English again, though probably just to be antagonistic.  He showed his irritation and elbowed Yuri in the ribs hard where they sat squished together, "You're not joining the Russian team just because you'll be flying with us."

Yuri just grunted and cringed with each jab, at least until he felt a set of fingers getting between the side of his chest and the pointy elbow trying to grind into it.

"Cut it out, Yurio, you're going to mangle my cinnamon roll."

The teen just gave him an incredulous look, eyes wide open for a moment, but then narrowed them again with simmering rage.  He clapped his knee to the side and hit his rival's leg painfully as he turned, but then crossed his arms and moved to glare daggers out the window instead, grinding his teeth angrily.

The abused skater just reached a hand out to rub the spot where it stung, "...Yurio...?"  He asked; he got no answer.  Brows furrowed above blue-framed glasses, and Yuri felt a pit in his stomach, Why is he so mad at me...?  He was so nice at Rostelecom…by comparison, anyway.

It was only a few more minutes before they were starting to pull into a residential area, and Yuri marveled at how...normal it looked.  Normal, anyway, for a higher-end neighborhood that wasn't in Japan's cramped foothills.  Yakov eventually stopped in a driveway, and Mila let Makkachin out as soon as the car was completely parked.  The dog went ballistic, running around familiar territory and smelling everything that once was his.  Mila brushed the fur off her leggings and stepped out as well.

Victor pushed the driver's-side passenger door open and Yuri followed after him; Yurio stayed in the car. 

Yakov looked to his newly-reinstated student, "We'll be at the rink tonight if you feel like joining us, otherwise we'll see you there whenever you get over your jetlag."

"Sounds good." Victor answered, and pulled his partner with him as he waved the group off, "We'll probably come tomorrow.  I have no doubt that I'll have a ton of stuff to deal with here once our luggage shows up in a couple days."

"Da, da...come whenever.  You have plenty of time to get your act together." The coach waved him off as he hoisted the big black traveling-trunk from the back, set it wheels-side-down on the ground, and pulled it around the side so he wouldn't run it over when he left.

"Byyye~!  And welcome to Russia, Yuri!" Mila called, one leg perched inside the car again already.  She waved excitedly though before disappearing under the roof, "Stay out of trouble!"

The pair nodded, and waved as the vehicle started to pull away again.

Victor waited for the car to be out of sight before turning to his fiancé, "Welcome home, Yuri."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE

My name is Yuri Katsuki, and I'm one of the dime-a-dozen top figure skaters certified by the JSF. I'm 24 years old, and the last year has been one of the most incredible in my entire life . After a disastrous 6th place finish at the Grand Prix Final in Sochi, Russia, and a close brush with retirement...my childhood idol - five-time consecutive World Champion, and legendary figure skater - Victor Nikiforov, suddenly turned up at my family's Hot-Springs Resort to be my coach! I can still sometimes hardly believe it!

With his help, I was not only able to get back into the Grand Prix Final again...I was able to win the Silver Medal, too! I even somehow managed to break Victor's long-held World Record score in the Free Program in the process! It's nothing short of unbelievable!

But the best part...isn't even the skating success he's helped me find. It's the 'Life and Love' in our engagement rings.

Today is December 29th...and I've moved to St. Petersburg, Russia, to be with him. It's the eve of a brand new year...and our whole new life together.

.

Yuri looked at the house with wide eyes. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not, but it seemed a lot bigger than he imagined, even though it was hard to see in the dark and softly falling snow. The neighborhood had decent lighting, so he could see the outline of the house where the frost glowed on the roof, and iron-wrought fence, but nothing in the surrounding landscape.  A vista of St. Petersburg downtown glow peeked over what Yuri could only assume were trees behind the house, but he couldn’t be sure. His head swam from the trip still, despite how much he'd tried to sleep, and it only added to his awe of what was in front of him.

"What do you think?" He heard Victor ask, one arm draped over his shoulders casually.

"Can hardly see it.  You’ll have to ask me again in the morning.  ...Is it still technically Tuesday right now...? Or is it Wednesday...?"

The silver Russian just laughed and reached for the suitcase, pulling it behind him as the small wheels half-turned, half-slid along the frosted driveway.  He started stepping towards the walkway that lead to his front door, opened the metal gate, and nudged his sleepy partner forward to make sure he got inside safely, "It's Tuesday night, late...almost Wednesday morning."

The door was white, with one long inlayed panel, and two square windows at the top.  When the door was unlocked and pushed open, Makkachin rushed inside, barking excitedly in the darkened space. Victor shuffled in and hit the lights as he propped the trunk up against the left wall, careful to avoid two rather large packages sitting on his front step.  Yuri stepped in soon after, not even noticing the oversized mail, still marveling at the whole thing, so Victor turned back to try and figure out a way of getting the big boxes inside himself. The smaller one was easy enough, so he tucked it around the door beside Yuri’s suitcase, and then scratched his head at the bigger one, which was more like a large crate than a box, reinforced by wood paneling, "Yuri...come help."

The younger skater was entranced though and hadn't heard him. Yuri took in a deep breath, drawing in the smell of this place that had been his idol's home since before they'd ever known each other. It smelled like recently-used cleaners. Looking around, he saw a large, welcoming and open space.  Directly ahead was a blue couch, modern in style, with several throw-pillows on it; some striped white and colored, others solid.  On the left wall, were two rather large, floor-to-ceiling windows, with long grey curtains draped in front of them.  The curtains themselves seemed to vanish into the ceiling somehow, with a compartment that went up into the ceiling to hide the rod.  Two large white metal heaters were bolted to the walls just beneath each windowsill, and Victor’s big-screen television, entertainment stand, and a couple chairs were just in front.  Back on the wall by the door, Victor had a small computer table with a desktop PC and a potted plant.  Opposite that little office set-up though, on the right side of the area, was a huge kitchen with a stainless steel cooking island.  A wooden table was backed up against it on the nearer side, with a few chairs to go with it.  Somehow, and hardly to Yuri’s surprise, the entire back wall was decorated like a café board, with chalk-paint writing listing drinks and their prices.  Above it, two long lines of wooden shelves, with assorted cups, containers, jars of foodstuffs, and spices taking up every inch of space.  A whole espresso machine was on the counter to the right, with another set of huge windows with accompanying curtains on the wall, and a large refrigerator-microwave-oven combo cabinet on the left.  For a split second, Yuri wondered how that bit of engineering worked, but supposed it was fit for purpose if it had been built that way to begin with.  Around the corner from there, was a small section of wall with a door; the pantry, most like, and on another wall that formed the square of the room, was a door that appeared to lead into the bedroom. 

The last thing Yuri seemed to notice was the antechamber between the kitchen and the front door; a whole small room that he supposed, for a moment, was a secluded breakfast nook.  However, when he stepped towards it, he realized the room’s walls were filled with professional memories, dating back to when the Russian skating legend was still a rising star in the Junior ISU. He even saw a photo of the man's 16 year old self, when he wore what would eventually become the 'Eros' outfit, and his face flushed a little to see the teen so proud in that ensemble, having no idea back then what would happen in the years to come.  He supposed the room would be brilliant and shining during the day, when the big window let in all the sunlight.

"Y-Yur...Yuri...!"

Five golden medals hung inside a large wood-framed rectangle, labeled at the bottom as World Championships, protected from dust by treated glass – the legacy of Victor’s most famous winning streak, and ready to accept one more. More medals from other events were framed behind glass on other parts of the wall, many of them gold as well, and even more trophies sat on the mantle and on shelves than Yuri realized Victor had even won. There were even a few newspaper articles clipped and framed. Oddly, Yuri never saw any photos of anything normal. Like family, friends, or anything else. Only a few shots of Makkachin here and there, or Yakov.

"Yuri!" Victor said again, louder than before, finally getting his attention.

"Huh?" He turned around, and saw his partner still in the doorway, unable to lift the large wooden box high enough to get it over the lip of the last step to the indoors, "What's that?"

"My mail from the last few months, I think?" Victor answered with a huff, looking a bit red in the face from his efforts, "I don't have a wheelie-hand-truck-thing to get it off the ground, so help me get it onto this ledge so we can push it inside."

"Just the last few months?" Yuri repeated in disbelief, and set the costume bag down on the couch before going back to the doorway, "Is there more somewhere?"

"Probably." The silver laughed, "It just piles up! The post office probably heard I was coming back and wanted to get rid of it.  I suppose I could’ve left them a forwarding address for Yu-Topia…"

"Yeah, probably."

Between the two of them, they were able to get the huge crate over the 8 inch step-threshold, turned to shove it into the trophy room, and then closed the front door behind them. Victor huffed a breath and turned around to sit on the crate, kicked his shoes off, and heaved a relieved sigh, "It's good to be home, but now there's so much work to do~!"

"This place is incredible." Yuri said idly, looking around again, "I don't even know where to begin." He pointed at the room with all the accolades, which Victor was conspicuously blocking now, "You don't have pics of family up in there.  Anywhere.”

“Of course I don’t.  That’s the trophy room.” The silver answered simply.

“You can-“ Yuri blanched, narrowing his eyes in ‘I should’ve known you would’ disbelief, “You can actually say you have a whole room just for your victory spoils.”

“Well, sure?  Where else am I going to put everything?” Victor laughed.

“Do you have any relatives in St. Petersburg?” Yuri tried again, “Will I get to meet them?"

"Our stuff won't arrive until tomorrow morning, so if you want to rest, the bedroom is through that door there," Victor leaned forward on the crate, and pointed at the open doorway just past the kitchen, completely ignoring the questions.  He then slapped his hands down on the edges of the crate, and pushed himself up, stepping forward to give his fiancé a hug, "Make yourself comfortable."

Yuri could only pause and return the hug, even if he did so with a strange look on his face.

"Something wrong?"

"Is that a no?"

"Is what a no?" Victor asked, looking innocent, “You’re not tired?”

"...Never mind." Yuri shook his head, and turned back around again to look at the house all around him, "It's better than I could've imagined. I just...can hardly believe I'm really here." He fidgeted and rotated the ring around his finger a few times with his thumb as he spoke, "I'm not dreaming still, right? This is real."

"After the whole last year, you think you might still be asleep?" Victor wondered curiously. He peeled off his beloved's frame and started pulling at the scarf and jacket he still wore, “The fates would be cruel to have you bang your face into a rink wall and not wake you up at that point.”

Yuri felt the phantom-nosebleed and couldn’t help but sniffle a bit against it, "Oh man, right?"  He rubbed a finger under it and made off to follow the Russian’s lead, pulling off his beanie and shaking his head to reset his hair, “Where should I put all my stuff?”

“Oh, just right there,” The silver answered, nudging his head towards a wooden coat-hanger pole Yuri was standing beside, “A house is a house, and this one’s a bit on the small side, but I’ve never been a fan of living in huge empty spaces all by myself, so…we make do with the space we have.”

“I feel like we were just talking about how you needed so much space,” Yuri quipped, threading his scarf over one of the wooden arms, “Or have I finally seen the limits to your vast hoarded wealth?”

“Pssht.” Victor flapped his hands at him, “You’re comparing a small house to a seat in Economy.  Hardly fair.”

“I suppose I can give you that one.”

“Hey, if you want to spread out a bit before you go to sleep, I have a small surprise for you.” Victor added as he set his boots against the wall, and picked up the smaller of the two mail packages, “At least I hope this is the surprise.  Would be funny if it turned out it wasn’t.”

“Uh oh…” Yuri followed, a skeptical smile at the corner of his lip.  He followed the silver in front of the big blue couch, and sat on the edge of it as Victor slid down to the floor with his legs crossed.  The Russian made short work of the packaging tape, and lifted up the first flap of cardboard, seeing a wisp of plastic wrapping come up with it.  Victor suddenly slapped the cardboard back down again though, holding it there as he lifted his head and beamed at the younger man, “So it’s right?  This is what you hoped it was?”

“It sure is!  Come down here.” Victor nodded excitedly, and watched as Yuri joined him to sit on the floor.  Makkachin trotted out of the bedroom just then as well, and joined them by hopping up onto the couch, quietly panting behind them, “I didn’t honestly think it would get here this fast…I thought maybe it would take a few more days, but those guys work miracles and I guess they kind of knew what I was asking them for, so they must’ve put in a few late nights to finish it quickly.” He explained, peeling layers of plastic and thin white packing foam away.  Within, Yuri could see the edge of something black and blue, but hadn’t the foggiest idea what it could be just from that.  Victor stopped unpacking again suddenly, and looked the younger man straight in the eyes, “I…  I mean, you…have given me so much over this past year.  My life, my love, my inspiration, even your whole self.  I couldn’t begin to explain how much that all means to me…but I hope, that with this, I might be able to start to show it.”

Yuri tilted his head slightly, and offered his hands forward to take hold of the blue and black item that Victor lifted from the box.  Just seeing the front of the item through the last bit of protective wrapping, Yuri could’ve sworn he’d seen something familiar, but he didn’t want to say he recognized it until he unwrapped it some more.  Bit after bit, he unfolded the neatly arranged item…it was a garment.  A costume.  Yuri’s eyes went wide as he lifted the jacket up by the shoulders, “…You…?”  He started, only to gape and lower it again in confusion, “You’re changing the colors of your ‘Aria’ for some reason?  I don’t get it.”

Victor laughed and shook his head, “I suppose like this, it wouldn’t make any sense.  One second.” He said, and rummaged deeper into the box, pulling out the garment’s twin, except it was black and wine-colored.  He furled it out gently, and looked on with a shine in his eyes, “These go together.  This one is mine, and that one…” He nudged his head at the blue variant, “…is yours.”

“Eh?” Yuri uttered, his tired, jet-lagged brain not following for a moment.

“For the pair-skate version of ‘Stay Close to Me’ that I’m planning for us to do.”

Tick…tock…  Tick…tock…

"...EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!?"

It was a while before Yuri could compose himself enough to even look at the costume again, clutching it tightly to his chest with both arms wrapped around it like it might slip through his grasp if he didn't. Victor held him where he sat, patting his head gently as he sobbed, "Breathe, Yuri. Breathe."

"But look at it!" He cried out, finally holding it out in front and gaping at it like it was just too precious to be real, "It's just like yours!"

"I know."

"But it's blue!"

"Blue as it gets."

"And you said it was for me!"

"It is for you."

"Because you want to do a pair-skate version of 'Stay Close to Me!'"

"It’ll be an Exhibition!  Everything on the ice is love, and this is how I want to show my love to you." The Russian explained dutifully, and pushed himself up to stand so he could slip his arms into his own version of the jacket, “So?”

"...When did you even...have time? If you just thought this up when we were messing around at the Ice Castle right before Nationals..."

"Oh, it’s been a little while.  Remember when I took that call in the taxi before?"

"...Sure, but-"

"It was the tailors, saying they would have the order done in just a few more days. I was asking them to deliver it here instead of to Yu-Topia!" Victor explained excitedly, "That's why I didn't want to say a whole lot about what was happening out here while we were getting ready for All Japan. I didn't want to risk spoiling the surprise!"

"...Wow..." Yuri sat back on his haunches, eyes on the shimmering material in his hands again, "...I don't...even know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything, Yuri.” Victor answered, smiling brightly, “Show me instead.  We’ll put all our heart and soul into this Exhibition, and show our love to the entire world.”

With a pause, eyes on the silver accents and black trims, Yuri took in the whole of the moment.  As it started to sink in, he lifted his eyes to the man standing overhead, and rose up to join him.  He carefully slid his arms into the blue jacket, and his thumbs into the fingerless gloves at the end.  It was fortuitous that he was wearing black jeans at that moment, but he realized with a huff of a laugh that his t-shirt was in the way of the open chest.  He looked up again with a wry smirk, “Well, even with my extra clothes on, this thing seems to fit pretty well so far.  I think your tailors really outdid themselves.  Considering they’ve never made anything for my size before, too…”

“Oh, I just told them to use my measurements from when I was younger.” Victor teased, “Since you fit so well into my old costume.”

Yuri felt that glancing blow, and slouched, “Katsuki Yuri, 24 years old…same size as Victor Nikiforov when he was 16.”

The silver smiled reassuringly, “It’s not all that bad; I think I hit my last growth spurt right after that.  I wore Yurio’s ‘Agape’ costume when I was 13.”

“I fit into that one, too, Victor.”

“Oh, did you?” The Russian just lifted a hand behind his head and laughed, “I never saw you try it on!”

Yuri gawked, “How could you forget that?”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN

It only took a day before the Russian branch of the ISU had gotten itself together for the press conference that Yurio had been denied. Cameras clicked with a fever pitch as reporters from across the country clamored for a good spot at the front of the conference hall, while others stacked along the walls on either side of the room.

At the table on the raised platform in front of them all, Yakov was seated at the far end dressed in his usual coach fare, with Lilia next to him, Yurio next to her wearing his usual Team Russia jacket and black hoodie, Victor after that in up-class casual-wear like from Barcelona, then Mila in business-casual, and finally Georgi, looking more formal like his coach...the entire St. Petersburg Skate Club.

Yuri watched quietly from the audience, a surgical mask over his face, wearing the most boring and normal clothing he could find, keeping all of it unrelated to skating or the JSF.  The conference, however, was spoken in Russian, so the whole thing was beyond him. He only knew a smattering of basic Russian, and nothing short of subtitles on his eyeballs would help him understand it any better. The energy in the room was all he could read, and he guessed well enough that Victor had just confirmed his return to competitive skating when everyone started cheering.  Georgi looked like the wind had just been taken out of his sails.  Yurio bristled where he sat, but didn't dare have an outburst in front of so many cameras. He eventually had his turn anyway, and Yuri could see the teen calm down significantly as he received the attention he deserved. 

They're probably asking him how he feels about competing against Victor, Yuri thought to himself, able to pick out the word 'Worlds' from within the Russian dialogue. One of the reporters asked about 'European Championships' but the team shook their collective heads, likely mentioning the same rationale as had been given when Victor himself been asked the question at the GP Final Banquet.

"Hey...are you not Katsuki Yuri...?" Someone to his right suddenly asked.

He glanced up from his phone and turned to look at the source of the voice, and saw a complete stranger there; some reporter. The man's broken English was rough, but Yuri could understand it, "Ah...yes, I am."

"Why not at table with others?"

He was taken aback, unsure if his answer would be understood, so he spoke simply and pointed at himself, "Not Russian."

"However, Mr. Nikiforov is coach of yours, yes?"

"...Yes, but..."

"Èj vse! Katsuki Yuri zdes'!" (Hey everyone!  Yuri Katsuki is here!) The reporter called out, yelling above the clamor to get the crowd's attention.

Yuri flew out of his seat, ready to cling to the ceiling if it was the only way out, as all eyes suddenly turned from the Russian team to him. He staggered into the walking-space between his chair and the reporters that were huddled against the wall nearby.  If looks could kill, Yurio would've been a mass-murderer by that point, staring death at everyone who dared turn their attention away from the main table to stare at the hopeless JSF skater instead. The crowd was unsure how to proceed after that, speaking amongst themselves as more photos were taken to prove that Yuri was there as claimed. Yuri simply balked, groping for space, and looked past a few people to Victor, silently begging for salvation.

The Russian team-members were whispering amongst themselves; Yakov seemed slightly annoyed, but Victor nodded in apparent agreement and waved for Yuri to join them at the table. The foreign skater rushed through the crowd for safer territory, wanting nothing less than to put Victor between himself and the ravenous mob.  He didn't make it gracefully though, as Yurio stuck his leg out and tripped him just as he was passing behind their chairs, causing him to land face-first behind his coach's seat. Victor looked back to see if he was okay, but it didn't do any good; the Russian Tiger had already turned on his chair to put his boot on Yuri's backside where it stuck up in the air.

"Idiot, this isn't for JSF skaters!  This is the RSF!"

"Yuratchka, leave him be." Yakov snapped firmly, "We should never have left him in the audience in the first place."

"But-"

"Leave.  Him.  Be.  We all know you won the Gold Medal and him Silver. You don't have to keep proving it.  He's Victor's student though, so that makes him part of us, even if unofficially."

As the coach reigned in his rising star, Mila busied herself with getting another chair pulled up to the table.  Victor rose to get behind his own chair, and helped his fiancé to stand up again just as he spotted the redhead bringing a new seat closer.  He reached across the table to take it from her, set it between their existing seats, and positioned Yuri to sit in it. Yuri just sat low and awkwardly, wanting to be as small as possible. However, the smaller he tried to appear, the more he stuck out, and Victor could tell, “Pull your mask down.” He suggested quietly, and put a hand on the small of his partner's back to force him to sit upright, and then shoved the chair in closer so he couldn't slouch again.

"But I don't even speak Russian...I have no idea what's going on or why I’m up here..."

"Victor," One of the reporters down front started, in fairly good English.  She was a woman with straight-cut black hair and bowl-cut bangs, "Since we're on the topic now, it seems...is it because of Yuri Katsuki that you skipped Russian Nationals and lost your shot at Euros?"

Yuri could've died and rolled under the table - if he were allowed to - and banged his face against the top of it instead, hands clasped pitifully over his head.  He groaned quietly for the shame of it before his hands slid off the table-cloth and went limp at his sides, like chains that had just been cut loose from their ship, with anchors dragging the remaining lengths off-deck and into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again.

Victor just glanced between him and the RSF reporter, "Actually, it's because of Yuri that I'm hopefully going to Worlds.  I hadn't planned on being at Nationals or Euros to begin with, since I didn’t think I’d be skating this year at all."  He explained simply, and moved his arm up from where he'd been rubbing his partner's shoulders to rest it over the backrest of the chair instead.  Yuri lifted his head as he felt it, and rubbed the sore spot on his forehead as his partner's voice continued, "Georgi will be representing the RSF at Euros alongside Yuri Plisetsky.  They're both perfectly capable of bringing medals back.  They wouldn't be training under Yakov if they weren't good.  He hand-selected every one of us and he's never been wrong about the quality of his team.  We consistently rise up to represent Russia on the world stage, in spite of dozens of other reputable Skate Clubs across the country all trying to be the best as well."

"We've heard it said that you had meant to go to Nationals." The woman went on, "There's footage from an interview at the Final, where your voice is caught in the background stating, and I quote, 'For now, I'll time my come-back with Russian Nationals.'  Isn't that right?"

"I'm glad you included the part where I said 'for now,' because things changed before the end of the weekend.  I had obligations that I couldn't bail on."

"You mean Japanese Nationals."

"Da.  I couldn't send Yuri on by himself.  As his coach, I'm responsible to and for him.  Unfortunately, we didn’t realize until after the fact that both events were being held at the same time, and I couldn’t send my athlete on alone."

"So even he hadn't planned on going to the All Japan Championship until after the Final was over?  Everything you both did was last-second."

"Sure." Victor had no problem admitting it, and nodded as well, "I originally told Yuri I'd make him win the Grand Prix Final, not the World Championship.  Our plans were that I'd coach him through the Final.  We thought we'd both be done with skating after that, but we both managed to convince each other to keep competing."  He shrugged, "If Yurio hadn't decided to make his Senior debut this year, I'd be going to Euros as well as Worlds, in spite of missing Nationals.  But, it is what it is."

The blonde seethed from where he sat next to the silver skater, [You can't blame me for your stupid choices!] He barked in Russian, [I more-than-earned my spot on the Russian team at Euros!  If you'd come to Nationals like you were supposed to, this wouldn't even be an issue!  You'd already been putting together programs for this year before you were in Hasetsu last year.  You have no excuse for bailing.]

Yuri bunched his hands together in his lap, looking even more nervous as the argument went on.  He's talking in Russian so I don't know what he's saying, He thought anxiously.  He's not even doing it because we're in Russia...he's doing it because he wants me to feel like an outsider...  As if he even needed to do anything for me to feel that way...

"Yeah, and I gave one of those programs to you." Victor retorted, specifically doing so in English, "I spent a week finishing the choreography so you'd have a winning Senior debut, and you won Gold with it.  I'll need a little more time to finish my own programs, as well as get my gear together for it, practice and fine-tune it, and all the rest."

[I put together my Exhibition for the Final in a single night; costume, choreography and all.  What's your excuse?]

"Freestyling is valid.  Perfection takes more than a night though." Victor retorted with a smile, setting the younger one's teeth on edge again

Yuri listened to the back and forth, trying to piece together what he could from just his partner's responses.  The reporters ahead of him were doing much the same, though it was likely that most of them were trying to do so from Yurio's statements rather than Victor's.  It gave Yuri's anxiety something the cling to, and he brought his hands up onto the table-top to lean against them and take the weight off his back.

[My Exhibition was perfect!] The Russian Punk argued loudly, getting up from his seat and ignored petitions from Lilia to sit down again, [I'm not the sad pig who had to skate a redemption performance!]

Victor had reached across the table with his left hand for one of the many water bottles as he tacitly listened to the whines of the jealous teenager, but conspicuously set it down again just in front of his student's right hand when he was done with it, not having even taken a drink from it, "What are you really mad about?  You were clapping for him just like the rest at the end."

Green eyes went wide, but then narrowed again.  He opened his mouth to speak, only for Yakov to cut him off.

[Yuratchka is just eager to compete against Victor.]  The coach explained, whether or not it was true, and gave time for Lilia to wrangle the teen back into his seat, [They were rink-mates for a long time before Victor took time off.  It just happened to be at the same time Yuri joined the Senior division.  The delay in Victor's return to competition is unfortunate.  We were all hoping to see them compete against each other in real time, not retroactively.]

[Victor, were you really considering joining the JSF?] A different reporter asked, catching the skater's attention.

“I never considered it at all.  It wasn’t offered, either.” He answered, turning his eyes away from the blonde next to him, “I skated the All Japan Exhibition as a guest.  It was unplanned, and they basically offered it to me a few minutes on the ice as a thank you for getting one of their own to the podium.  It wouldn't have even happened if I hadn't accidentally left my ‘Aria’ costume at the rink in Hasetsu; it would've been packed with the rest of my stuff otherwise.”

Yuri could sense the shift in the direction of the inquiry, but it didn't make him feel any better.  The whole thing felt more like an interrogation than a conference, and it made his throat dry.  He pulled up the same water bottle that Victor had set in front of his hand a moment before and took a sip, but held onto the plastic after that, fingers curled around it anxiously.

[How can you possibly return to skating with the RSF though if you're coaching someone from another team?] Someone said pointedly, [Isn't that a conflict of interest?]

Victor tilted his head and smiled like he always did, “I don't feel that way.”  He reached his left hand for a white RSF coffee-mug after that, took a sip of it...and again, set the cup directly in front of Yuri's right hand, “Until I took time off, I was Russia's reigning Champion.  I expect to continue that trend even as a returning competitor, despite staying on as Yuri's coach at the same time.  I've been teaching him everything I know, so to me, it means there'll be two skaters in the field who want to surprise and impress the audience.  The better Yuri gets, the more I'll push myself in turn.  I want to win Gold as badly as he does.  I'm not just going to let him have it because I want him to win, too...he still has to work for it, just like everyone else.  It'll be my pride as a competitor to win Gold for Russia, but it'll be my pride as a coach if Yuri wins Gold for Japan instead.”

[Don't you feel any shame for taking on a foreign athlete when your own team could use your experience?] Someone else asked, [Your talents would've been better served by coaching another Russian athlete, not a Japanese one.  Now he poses the risk of taking medals for his own team.]

“Shame?” The skater echoed stiffly, “Why would I be ashamed?  Plisetsky and Katsuki skated in competition against each other for who I would coach.  Katsuki won.  I choreographed Yurio's Short Program anyway, and he took Gold with it.  Those of you who may have known about Onsen on Ice may have even noticed that the program changed very little between its debut and Plisetsky’s record-breaking SP in Barcelona.  That means my contribution to his efforts weren’t improved upon by anyone after the fact.”

Lilia bristled and gave a dirty look.  Yurio did the same, but for entirely different reasons.

Victor continued, ignorant to their reactions, “Katsuki scored over 100 at both the Cup of China and Rostelecom Short Programs.  The fact that he didn't break the triple digit barrier again at the Final was ridiculous, especially since he did the quad Flip at the end.”  He explained, almost angrily, but tried to keep a level head about it, “But the point is, coaching Yuri doesn't mean I won't be available to my own countrymen.  Being back at my home rink will make me more accessible than ever. I don't think there will be any problems.  I'm actually hoping that both Yuris will use the opportunity to push each other, so maybe Plisetsky can score even higher in his Free Skate and try to take that record, too.  I'm sure the RSF will be very happy about having a 15-year-old who can score as well as I do at the end of my career.  He's an exceptionally talented athlete, and I have no doubt that he'll be breaking records and setting trends long after both Yuri and I retire for good.  Maybe he'll even let me choreograph something else for him in the future.”

[And the fact that you're engaged to marry your own student won't be a problem, either?] Another different reporter suddenly asked, causing the room to quiet down a little bit, [Many may question whether your presence at the St. Petersburg Skate Club might undermine the ability for the rest of your team to focus.]  The figure went on, staring straight at Victor, [How can you even maintain credibility when you're going to marry a man?  You can try to hide his ring with cups and water bottles all you want, but we all knew about it long before either of you ever sat at that table.  You made all that exceptionally clear when you knocked him over in China, and kissed him for all the world to see.]

Yuri felt the energy change around him again, and he looked to see Victor's expression change again along with it, but only subtly.  There was a rage in his eyes, but only the slightest furrow of silver brows gave the man away.

[You've embarrassed the Russian team, and Russia itself.]

[That's uncalled for, and has nothing to do with the sport.] Yakov finally interrupted; he stood from his seat and pointed at the figure, [We should be celebrating Victor's return to the ice, not lambasting him for things in his private life.]

[President Putin signed an order banning the propaganda of nontraditional relationships ahead of the Sochi Olympics.  It's not uncalled for to question the mental stability of an athlete who claims to represent Russia, while at the same time flouting this nation's values.]

Voices and murmurs echoed throughout the room, and the energy was becoming oppressive.  Victor was briefly speechless by the whole thing, but then he narrowed his eyes, “Fine.  If that's how you feel, then I'll quit the RSF and join Yuri in the JSF, and we'll take all the Gold Medals for Japan instead.”

Yuri could feel all the blood leave his face in an instant.

[DON'T YOU EVEN SUGGEST IT.] Yakov barked.

People started to shout questions from the floor even as athletes and coaches were arguing at one another at the table.  Instead, all Yuri could do was watch as it all turned dark; a pair of unexpected hands had gone over his glasses, pulling him back and away from his partner.

"Try not to react." A woman's voice said, "They get like this sometimes."

"M-Mila-san..."

[WILL EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY?] Yurio finally interrupted, catching all of their attention.  He turned those piercing green eyes on the reporter who had instigated it all, [How dare you question the skill of one of Russia's top skating talent.  Can you skate his programs better than he can with just the power of your raging heterosexuality?]

Mila lowered her hands from Yuri's eyes, and he looked up to see where Victor and Yakov both were staring at the teen in shock.  He turned his head slightly towards the woman still holding him back, though he kept his eyes forward, "What's going on?" He whispered.

"...I'm not sure yet...the reporter asked some really rude questions."

[IDIOTS. This is figure skating.] Yurio barked on, [We dance on ice and wear flashy costumes! The only thing more gay than that is grappling in MMA, and I don't see anyone complaining about how homo that is even when one guy's got his nutsack in some other guy's face, or even worse, if they're grappling balls to balls. It's absurd that any of you are wasting your time on this. Victor brought home five consecutive Gold Medals from the Grand Prix, Russian Nationals, Euros, and WORLDS, and the thing you're worried about is how he gets his rocks off when he's off the ice? How about worrying that he might tear a meniscus or rupture a disc or something? You know...REAL THREATS.] The blonde was standing with one foot up on the table by then, the other on his chair, both hands stuffed in the pockets of his track-suit coat, [You should be on your knees thanking him for coming back! We have TWO CHAMPIONS in Russia now!  But go ahead and be stupid!  Make Victor want to leave again!  I don't think Japan will care if they suddenly have two Champions on the roster!  They sure didn't care when Katsudon declared his super-gay love for Victor on national television a few months back!]

The room was silent after that, and Yuri could see that his coach was a bit slack-jawed at the outburst.

Yurio stepped on top of the table and then kicked off, landing in front of it. He shot a glare back at his team, then at the lone Asian in their ranks, "Let's go. The conference is over.  ...What a clusterfuck."

Victor was quick to stand after that, and pulled his partner with him, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair as the rest of the team disembarked from the table. Slate eyes caught sight of the Russian Tiger making a threatening gesture at the offending reporter while they passed, lunging unexpectedly just to make the man jump.  The silver skater just pulled his fiancé to his opposite side, putting himself between the media and his heart. 

"What just happened? What was that all about?" Yuri asked desperately, "Why did Yurio get so angry all of a sudden?"

The Russian's terse expression gradually softened as the whole thing sank in, and they'd escaped the clamor of media mob into an adjacent hallway.  Yakov and Lilia had both started lecturing Yurio about his outburst, but he just looked annoyed and ignored them.

"He stood up for us...sort of." Victor explained quietly.

"Stood up for us...?" Yuri echoed in confusion, "From what?  Why did that whole thing turn into a yelling match?"  He pleaded, but got no answer, which made the pit in his stomach sink lower than he thought possible.  He looked down and away, and clutched at his ring-hand nervously, "...I told you I should've stayed back at the house with Makkachin.  This is all my fault."

"But I wanted you to come." Victor retorted quietly, looking up towards Yakov, and watched briefly as Yurio rolled his eyes from the continued double-sided lecture.

Yuri's eyes stayed down, and he closed them soon after with a sad huff of frustration, "And I wanted you to come to the JSF conference when they made me do my theme announcement, too, but you wouldn't.  All you did was complain about my tie when I got back."

"I didn't want to take attention off of you again like I did at your Regional competition." Victor explained desperately, drawing in a sharp breath as he slid his arms into his long-coat

"Like I just did to you?"

Yakov stepped closer after that, and looked up at his reinstated student, "Don't think too much into what they said, Vitya." He advised, "It's not worth it.  Just prove them all idiots by taking Gold at Worlds again...it'll be your 6th year running, so they can't complain."

"If they even let me go at this point."

"You're going." The coach said stiffly, "So plan accordingly.  They might not give you the same kind of press coverage as they used to but they can't ban you from going.  You're the only reason we have more than one spot at Worlds this season.  They’d be reckless to forget how that works."

"Yeah..."

Yuri's brow furrowed to hear it, and looked between the two coaches anxiously.

"Let's just get the Hell out of here already." The Russian Punk said suddenly, "We all have better shit to do than get our pants in a twist over one guy.  I have to go buy food for Potya."  He turned on his heel and gestured down the hall with a nudge of his head, "Well?"

"Yurio..." Yuri said quietly, eyes looking over at him.  Before much else could be said or done, he had latched both arms around the teen from behind. 

Yurio was dead silent for a moment, but then shrieked, "I DIDN'T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO-"

"Spasibo."

The pair were quiet, but the blonde continued to glare over his shoulder; past the rim of his hood, Yurio could barely see the offending athlete anyway, but grit his teeth bitterly.

"I know it was hard on you for Victor to leave Russia so suddenly last year. You came all the way to Hasetsu to make him come back home, only to leave again empty handed." Yuri stated solemnly, and let the Russian Tiger go free again so as to look at him straight on, "You had years of expectation that you'd get to compete against him when you finally entered the Senior bracket, and I inadvertently took that away from you by getting Victor to be my coach the very year you got there. It wasn't intentional, but I am sorry for it."

"Forget it." Yurio said curtly, "I don't need to compete against him directly to score better than him.  I'll surpass all his records before long.  I already told him that it didn't matter if he was around."

"I know." Yuri answered, "But in a way, it does. Your relationship with Victor was different from mine because you both skated for the same team, and all I did was admire him from a distance. But I can tell that he's important to you in some way, and I know that the fact that he brought me back to St. Petersburg with him has rubbed you the wrong way.  I...I don't want to come between you guys.  My worst fear is that being here will hurt Victor's skating...and by the sound of that conference, I have even more to worry about now."  He explained nervously, but then bowed his head a little, "My...my mom taught Victor how to make katsudon before we came to St. Petersburg though. Maybe you can come over some time and he'll make you some...and we can go back to being friendly rivals.  I don't...want you to hate me..."

Yurio was a bit surprised at those words, but his acknowledgement was short-lived and barely earned a grunt in response. He turned and started to walk away, "You can thank me by giving me a good challenge at Worlds. If you don't or can't keep up, I'll be pissed that you bothered coming to St. Petersburg in the first place and wasted all our time."

Shoes thumped on the thin carpet floor, but as the teen marched off defiantly - followed slowly by his coach and choreographer, though both gave Victor somewhat-dirty looks as they went - Yuri lifted his head again, and gave something of a relieved sigh.  Victor slid in behind him and gave what comfort he could, arms wrapped around his thin frame.

"...All this time, since we got back, I thought Yurio was mad at us because we'd gotten together." The silver said quietly, cheek pressed to his fiancé's exposed neck and ear, "...To realize he was mad just because I didn't come alone, and how it meant I couldn't focus on him..."

"...I hope what I said will help him." Yuri agreed, hands pressed to the back of his partner's forearms where they crossed over his core and chest, "I know he can be nice to me..."

"I'll try to pay a bit more attention to him at the rink so he doesn't feel left out."

"Same."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN

January 7

Though Yuri had been awake for over an hour already, leaving the comfort of two big blankets - and the warmth of his fiancé - was unthinkable. He quietly pushed to sit up against the headboard with a few pillows behind himself, let Victor's arm slide down his front to rest against his lap - the other still under his lower back - and brought his knees up to rest his hand against while looking at his phone. His left arm slid over his partner's head and upturned shoulder, and set it gently on the man's broad back, thumb stroking back and forth slowly. His coiled-up ear-buds were clicked into the phone soon after, and he quietly listened to some music while he checked the Instagram feeds.

He deadpanned the screen when he started seeing video-posts featuring the melt-down at the Russian Skating Federation conference, and he nervously clicked into one when he saw that it featured subtitles. One hand slid up to the center of his chest, and tried to quell the pounding of his heart as he saw the video start to play; he knew what was coming, in principle, but not the details.

Victor didn’t want to talk about it after it was over…so I don’t actually know what was said when everyone was talking in Russian…

Footage was shot from somewhere in the center of the room, giving Yuri a clear view of the back of a certain reporter's head. He found his prior assumption correct about what was being said prior to the RSF noticing he was in the room, but it was surreal to watch the entire thing fall apart after he was told to join Team Yakov at the high table. It was especially weird to see Victor put the water bottle, and then the coffee mug, in front of his hand, but when the offending journalist started talking, and Yuri was able to read the translation of what he'd been saying, his partner's responses made a lot more sense, it made a pit grow in his stomach.

The last thing I ever wanted was to cause Victor trouble in his efforts to come back to competitive skating, but this whole time I was only thinking about the way he'd have to divide his time between me and himself. When I heard the fight starting, I thought it was because the sportscaster was mad that Victor was coaching a non-Russian. If us being  together  is going to rock the boat, too...then...

When Yurio finally made himself known in the midst of it all, Yuri's eyes were wide, and all the angry butterflies in his stomach were scared away. He watched in wide-eyed amazement at the things the teen was yelling, though he balked a little when his own 'super-gay' declaration on Japanese National television came up. He'd twitched forcefully enough that Victor stirred next to him, pulling his arms inward in a tight, cat-like hug around his core, but then released again, and the Russian buried his face in the space between Yuri's side and the pillow just beneath him with a half-groaned sigh.

Yuri was unsure if his partner had actually woken up in that moment and was just trying to go back to sleep, or if he had just moved in his sleep. He wasn't about to go poking and prodding just to find out, in any case. That would be Makkachin's task, and the big fluffy woofer came in almost as if on cue then...with his food-dish in his jaws. Yuri's eyes went wide yet again, and he frantically tried to shoo the dog away by brushing his hands through the air, but those soulful brown eyes just looked back at him in confusion. Makkachin lowered his head down and set the dish on the carpet...then rose his head back up again and sat down. Yuri was petrified, seeing the drool hanging down from the pupper's mouth.

Then the bark came.

"Rouf!"

Victor didn't budge.

Another bark, followed by a pitiable whine, and the dog leaned down to pick up the dish again. He took the two steps forward to get his front paws on the edge of the bed and nodded the bowl around before dropping it on the bed behind his human's back and barked again. The silver Russian groaned quietly and cringed in his half-sleepy haze, but Makkachin reached a paw out and poked at his person's back clumsily through the blankets and whined again.

Yuri just watched in terrified-but-amused silence, and pulled the ear-buds out. He wrapped the cable around his phone and set the whole thing aside, "I think he's hungry."

"...Whattimeisit...?" The older skater mumbled.

"Nearly 10am."

"Ah!" Victor was up with a start, and sent the metal bowl flying from the blankets to land on the floor and roll away. It bounced lightly off the nearby wall before rolling to a stop upside down, "We should've been up a while ago!"

"I was." Yuri mused, and leaning forward to wrap his arms around his legs. He set his cheek over his knees since his partner had let him go, "I didn't want to wake you up though."

"But everything starts today!"

"...Everything...starts?" He lifted his head again, his smile turning to a glance of confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"CHRISTMAS STARTS TODAY."

Yuri gave an incredulous look, "...Christmas was like 2 weeks ago. It was your birthday? We were in Hasetsu still?"

"NO! ORTHODOX CHRISTMAS." The Russian's arms were up in the air for dramatic effect, but he gave a look anyway, "...Don't you know...?"

"...No?"

Blue eyes blinked, "But I could've sworn that I..." He started, only for the dawn of remembrance to shine in his mind, "Oh right! I only told you it was touristy this time of year but then never explained what for!" He called out, and laughed at the absurdity of it as he collapsed back down to sit like normal; Yuri sighed, smiled, and turned his head gently from side to side. Victor then clapped his hands together, and his eyes got watery from excitement. He quickly reached under the blankets to retrieve his fiancé's hands and pulled them forward, dragging Yuri closer in the process, "This is perfect, then! Orthodox Christmas is a HUGE DEAL here! I can spend all week showing you around! It'll be easy to forget about everything that happened at the conference!"

"...All week?" Yuri echoed, "Christmas is a whole week here?"

Victor smiled brightly, getting more excited as the seconds passed, and happily leaned in over where he held their hands together to kiss his partner, "Mh. Until Orthodox New Year! This is going to be amazing! I can't wait to show you!"

"...There's an Orthodox New Year?"

"Yeah!" The Russian answered enthusiastically. He started stretching his legs towards the edge of the bed, getting Makkachin excited in his own right, and pushed up to stand, "Let's get ready and go! The Christmas markets in St. Petersburg make that one in Barcelona look like a kids' show! And you'll be able to try the hot wine this time!"

Yuri was still surprised at the whole thing, but watched his partner hop up and leave the room, utterly naked, but with something of a bounce in his step, stopping only to collect the dog's food bowl on the way.

He was pretty upset after the conference yesterday. Seeing him this excited about Orthodox Christmas will be a nice change of pace.

.

The excitable Russian practically had a whole ensemble just for the occasion; a dark silver suit with a thick white long-coat on top. He wrapped a woolen white scarf around his neck and shoulders, and topped his head with a fluffy white ushanka. Black gloves went onto both hands, and while probably not the most weather-appropriate thing, black leather boots on his feet.

"The party technically started last night." He was explaining as Yuri was putting his own cold-weather gear on; Victor had said he'd buy his fiancé a new wardrobe, and the man was good on his word. Yuri donned a thick, dark-grey jacket in similar style to his pea-coat, but with the warmer addition of a plush faux-fur trim around a large hood, and a few extra inches on length at the bottom. He had a new, thicker black scarf, and his own matching ushanka hat to keep his ears warm, "But that part of the celebration is super churchy, with Masses held all around the city to wait for the first star to appear. The New Year's party is the really big deal around here, but I like to have fun for the whole week leading up to it. It's usually the only mid-season break I take."

Yuri pulled on some gloves as well, and flexed his fingers to make sure they were on right before turning to his partner, "Where do we go first?"

.

Pavlovsk Park was a ways south of the city, but it was well worth the wait to get there. By 2pm, the pair were sitting in the back of a Troika; a sledge drawn by three horses...quickly. Snow slid under them at a break-neck pace, the wind leaving their noses and cheeks pink as it whipped past. Yuri was absolutely terrified, but at the same time, thrilled. He held the top of his ushanka down to keep it in place, but soon after, found a white ushanka dropped in his lap, and he looked up, "Victor, your hat-" He started, only to see silver hair lashing in the wind, perfectly accenting crystal blue eyes and pale-but-rosy skin; Victor was having the time of his life.

The horses' hooves thundered against the snow, galloping at full speed. The perfectly aligned trees along the wide roadway went by like huge pegs in a geometric maze, passing through one another as the sledge slid by.

The inside of Pavlovsk Palace was no less impressive, although significantly less adrenalin-pumping. Every wall held a painting; some huge, others in clusters where they were much smaller. Fireplaces dotted random walls, pillars between rows of innumerable windows held up elaborately decorated vases or candelabras. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling in prominent locations, flanked by candle-mounts held up by arrays of delicate chains, which in turn were separated by the presence of floor-to-ceiling green-marble pillars.

By the time they made it to their third and final stop for the day, the winter sun was already setting. However, in lieu of daylight, St. Petersburg shone on its own; a dazzling array of Christmas lights came to life along the streets, many even suspended in the air above sidewalks. The sound of music and revelry came into earshot as the pair walked along, and soon, the full sight of the Pionerskaya Square Christmas Market was visible.

"There's a few different set-ups like this around the city." Victor explained, eyes up at the glittery display, a backpack hanging off of one shoulder, "But this one has a skating rink."

A dawn of realization cracked in Yuri's eyes, "...I was wondering why you packed our blades. Ikimashou!" (Let's go!)

The rink was rather small, maybe only a quarter the size of a competition rink, but it was still smooth ice, and that's all it needed to be. A pair of gold blades set down on it first, followed by standard chrome-silver, and the duo made their way out normally like all the other revelers. Under all their winter gear, it was hard to tell who either of them was, especially since Victor had taken his hat back and all his silver hair was hidden under the white fluff, save a tuft that came out over his left eye.

Yuri saw groups of other people linking up arms or holding to each others' hands for support, many being new to the ice and needing the balance. So, he took it upon himself to use it as an excuse to do the same with his partner, who to that point had not taken his hand since leaving the house.

"I'll just pretend I can't skate or something." Yuri suggested quietly, sliding his gloved hand into the inside bend of his partner's elbow, letting the silver Russian pull him along, "No one will make a fuss if everyone thinks you're just making sure I don't end up on my arse."

Victor had still glanced around nervously when he felt it, but hearing the words made sense, and he nodded, and let himself enjoy the contact for what it was. His nervous expression changed over to the happy, fun-loving look he normally had, and he relished in the game of tugging his partner along the frosted glaze of ice, surrounded by hundreds of other people who had no idea who either of them were.

They skated easy laps around the makeshift rink for about 15 minutes before the sound of a familiar voice called out their names from somewhere in the crowd.

"Victoooor! Yuuuriiiii!"

"Uh oh..." The Russian lifted his head, "...Baba Yaga cometh."

"That's not nice!" Mila barked from the other side of the rink-wall, practically clambering over it as she shook a fist at the laughing skater.

Yuri let himself be pulled along as Victor went over to where the red-head was trying to get onto the ice, and dragged a toe-pick to slow down as they got nearer.

"I suppose it was only inevitable that we'd run into someone we knew." Victor mused, offering his other elbow to her so she could cross the wall without falling off of it, "Are you on your own?"

"I was with Yuri, but he vanished around 30 minutes ago." She explained, and took the arm, lowering down to the frost with a toe-pick to touch down first, "Nice hats, by the way."

Yuri smiled and waved, but Victor waved his head back and forth, as though tousling his hair, "Setting trends all across the city."

Mila laughed quietly to herself, but then reached up to snatch the white puff straight off her rink-mate's head, sticking it on her own instead, "Thanks for keeping it warm for me!"

Victor just blinked a few times in surprise, his ears getting pink quickly where the cold air could get at them suddenly. His hair was disheveled and unkempt...but that didn't stop the domino effect behind them as they slid around the ice. Yuri heard the first gasp, then the shriek, a yell, three people collapsing on the ice, then a group of four after that as he turned around to see what was going on. More novices were falling on their backsides in an attempt to stop before colliding with the growing pile, while slightly-more-seasoned skaters managed to get around it.

"O čert!" (Oh shit!) They all heard, and the trio now stopped to look back at the train-wreck in their wake, "O Gospodi, éto Victor Nikiforov!" (Oh my god, it's Victor Nikiforov!) Someone else called, pointing a shaky hand at the rough-looking silver skater from where they'd all fallen on the ice. Someone nearby was trying to push themselves up onto their hands and knees, but were still looking at the trio, "Alkash!" (Drunkard!)

"What are they saying?" Yuri wondered, leaning in. He held his free hand up to shield his voice.

"Everything from 'oh my god,' to calling someone a drunk, though I don't know if they're referring to me, or us, or one of the people they ran into." Victor answered, and lifted his right hand briefly to set his hair back into place.

"...Is this my fault?" Mila wondered suddenly, holding both hands to the silver skater's arm as she watched the group start to clamber back to their blades, "I pulled your hat off and suddenly everyone freaked out.  I thought people would’ve already recognized you, if they were going to at all."

"Maybe that makes it my fault then." Victor shrugged, and turned fully around to face the flustered group, "Allo~"

"AHHH! Èto dejstvitel'no Victor!" (It really is Victor!) One of the ladies on the ice shrieked in disbelief, grabbing for a male companion right next to her and hugged him so tightly that he struggled to get free again while she giggled incoherently.

"I guess the jig's up." Yuri huffed, "Are you going to do a little dance so we can carry on, or...?"

Someone else in the skater-pile gasped after that, pointing straight at the Asian, "Èto tože Yuri!" (It's Yuri, too!)

"Only if you do, too." Victor laughed, and slipped forward on the ice to start helping people back to their feet.

Once the seething mass of fangirls, fanboys, and assorted collateral damage were back up on their blades and moving away, the silver legend moved backwards towards the center of the rink where it was clearest. He could see the eyes of most people on him at that point, even people who were beyond the rink wall and who'd only heard the screaming and came running. Only one blade scratched across the frost as Victor watched and listened to the murmur all around, moving backwards as though practicing the most basic moves in the field, one arm wrapped around himself while the other balanced an elbow on it, a finger on his lip. After a moment, he shrugged and smiled, deciding to give them a little taste as recompense for the pile-up his recognition caused. His free leg swung out a little further from himself as a silent gesture that he was going to do something, and people started making more room, keeping their small kids closer to the edge of the rink so they wouldn't wander across and get kicked.

Yuri had moved off with Mila to watch from the crowd, and he leaned closer to her, "Does he get recognized a lot here, too?"

"This place might as well be called St. Viktorsberg." She laughed, "He's been on television here so often, either as part of some RSF documentary about skating, or as the feature of any given news station's sports headline. A lot of networks around here are run by the state, too, and since professional skaters are sponsored by it, they kind of own him. They tell him to jump, and he asks how high and in what direction."

"That sounds kind of depressing..."

Victor had built up a bit of momentum by then, and leaned far over to show off a basic flying camel spin.

"It's not all bad." Mila turned slightly and took the older skater's arm like she'd done with her rink-mate a few minutes before. The silver legend had twisted into a low sit-spin variant, one heel gliding out from center while an arm went up above himself, "He gets exposure from the state events he's dragged into, so private companies see him, and they want a piece of him, too. By the end of it, all the stuff he basically has to do for free as part of his job as a Russian athlete comes back as profit somewhere else down the line. Call it the 'reverse Victor Nikiforov loyalty card'...he'll do one thing for the RSF for free, and gets three paid opportunities for his trouble."

"...I guess that explains how he has so much extra income. I was starting to wonder how he was going to afford all the expensive stuff he says he wants to have...like flying first class everywhere, instead of taking the ISU's voucher for tickets to fly Economy."

Victor moved up into a tall scratch-spin, both arms up above himself as he became a white and silver blur on the ice.

Mila just chuffed a laugh, "Yeah...he's high maintenance, that's for sure. But at least he lives within his means. He doesn't even have credit cards...just his one bank card."

"Have you known him a long time?" Yuri wondered, eyes moving from his fiancé to the woman standing next to him.

"A bit longer than our Yuri has, at least, but not by much. He's like ten years older than me, so he's been here ages longer than anyone else on Team Yakov...except Georgi."

"Does he have family in St. Petersburg? Or anywhere in Russia?"

The crowd around them had started moving again as they clapped and cheered, so the two skaters pushed off to avoid becoming speed-bumps. Victor was still in the center of the rink, giving a bit of attention to some fans who'd approached.

"Family?" Mila echoed, putting a finger on her lip with her eyes up in thought, "I'm not sure, actually. I'm guessing not though, since none has ever turned up for any reason. It's always been just him."

"He's been really evasive when I've asked about it." Yuri explained, "Acts like he doesn't hear the question."

"He's aloof like that. Sometimes I think he plays dumb so people don't expect much of him, but then he creates these masterpiece performances, and I can't help but be reminded that he's still a genius in his own way." The redhead said quietly, passing by the front of the Russian as they went around the tiny rink, then turned her head to face forward again to watch where she was going, "He may not be an intellectual, but he's smart in a lot of other ways. He's got a huge heart, and he cares a great deal about the people around him, even complete strangers...but he's pretty secretive, too. If he doesn't want you to know something, you won't."

"He's given me nuggets here and there, but nothing that really makes any sense." Yuri explained, "The best I ever got out of him was him saying that 'family' meant a lot of negative things to him. I've been wondering if something happened to him in the past, but he just...refuses to discuss it."

"That sounds like him." Mila mused, "He resets himself every so often so he can approach problems with a fresh perspective, and he does that with everything, not just skating." They came around the small rink again, and Victor glided closer with every blade-scratch forward, "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Yuri." She offered, looking straight at him, and pat his arm where she held to it, "If you didn't know anything about it this whole time he's been coaching you, then he won't think you need to know later, either. He's already packed up that box and put it away on a high shelf somewhere. Maybe it's a box of bad stuff, or maybe it's just mind-numbingly boring...who knows? He doesn't think it's important. The memories he's making with you now mean way more to him than anything that happened twenty years ago."

"Hey!" Victor called out suddenly, waving a hand as he skated to catch up, and slid an arm around his partner's back as he got closer, "We should go get some of that hot wine now! There's a vendor just over there!" He said, pointing out past the edge of the rink to a wagon-like van with lights mounted around the side windows.

.

Victor's little red Audi came to a stop in the attached garage, snow trailing in with the tires as it moved up the driveway and dragged it onto the concrete floor. Yuri pushed the passenger-side door open, but found it close on him again suddenly, and his toasted mind didn't notice until he'd banged his forehead against the window. The slender Russian laughed and moved to pull the door open from the outside, watching the garage door close when he clicked the button on his keys, and then pushed the car door closed again once his partner was clear of it.

"Let's get you inside."

"Let's get you inside." The blitzed young skater echoed happily, stumbling in with an arm barely holding onto the man, and a dumb-happy look on his flushed face.

Victor did his best to get his fiancé out of his cold-weather clothing, even with Makkachin bouncing around them excitedly, "Hang on, hang on...I'll feed you in a minute." He laughed, settling his inebriated lover on the big blue couch before he reached down to ruffle the poodle's ears affectionately, "Come on, then. Dinner-time for Mah-kah-chiiiiin~!"

The flufferbutt barked and bounded around the side of the couch, heading for the kitchen just behind it, tail wagging frantically as he paced by his food dishes. When food and water were finally replenished, Victor cleaned up the mess...but then heard a loud thud, and a quiet moan after it.

"...Yuri?" He wondered, an eyebrow raised slightly as he came up behind the couch, seeing just beyond the edge of the seats where his partner had rolled off of it and landed face-down on the floor, feet in the air. The Russian gave half a laugh, shook his head, and moved around to the front to help the man up again, reaching down to settle a hand on the skater's back as he crouched on one knee, "You okay?"

"...Floors are...hard..." Yuri answered tepidly.

"Yes indeed." Victor laughed in agreement. He moved his other hand down after that to grasp under the man's shoulders and hoisted him up, pushing him back until he could sit on his knees and hold himself up, "Oh, you have a red spot on your face where you hit the hardwood." He grinned, pointing at it and then booping it with one finger.

"Ow...quit it..." Yuri whined incoherently, only to look up with those drunken eyes and laugh as well, "...Did you know...that...you're really hot...?"

Slate eyes blinked at the sudden bluntness of those words, but as Victor looked on and smirked, "You're really drunk."

"I'm not that drunk." Yuri contested, "I just had a really good time."

"You rolled off the couch."

"I only had two glasses."

"They were kind of big and you hadn't eaten before you drank them."

"Oh c'mere I wanna lookatchu..." Yuri slurred, leaning forward to slide both arms over the Russian's shoulders, squishing their faces together in what might've been meant as a kiss, but hadn't quite managed to become one.

It all reminded Victor of the drunken escapades of the Sochi Banquet, especially when the drunken figure started rubbing against him rather insistently. All the hapless skater needed was to lose the pants and get a tie to wrap around his head. Unlike back then, however, the Russian wasn't just looking on in confusion, arms pinned to his sides by a tight hug. His arms were free, and the man's gyrating was causing something to stir in him. Two more rolls and he couldn't force himself to be the voice of reason anymore, letting his partner push him onto his back on the floor beside the couch.  Yuri sat on his hips right away, and wasted no time unbuttoning the Russian’s shirt.  With skin revealed, he descended onto it, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along the man’s chest and up to his neck, though that just made Victor laugh since it tickled.

After a moment, Yuri paused, and lifted his head to gaze down with those hazy brown eyes, "Be my coach, Victor..."

"I am your coach..."

Yuri lowered down a bit on his elbow, a few fingers weaving through disheveled wisps of silver hair, while the other slid down the Russian's chest and over to his side, curling around his waist, "Noooo...I mean...be my coach...in love...!"

The look on Yuri's face was identical to his drunken-Sochi-face...the face that Victor fell in love with; tired, messy, giving a half-incoherent look...but at the same time, honest, needy, and longing for him. Blue eyes shut for a moment, and Victor shook his head briefly, looking up again after, "...Are you sure?"

"I thought about it...during my last Short Program..." Yuri insisted, too drunk to realize he was tilting from side to side, wiggling precariously as he tried to right himself each time, "I want..." He went on, slower than before. He pushed off the elbow that held him up above the floor, "I want you...all of you... And I want you to have all...of me..."

Victor just huffed a nervous laugh, "...You're sauced. You don't know what you're saying."

"Vicctooorrrrrr!" Yuri whined, rocking side to side where he was perched on his fiancé's lap, only adding to the friction, "You hardly drank anything at all earlier!"

"I had to drive."

"Have some fun with meeeee!" Yuri pleaded, fingers moving down towards where the dark-grey suit-pants were buttoned, and started undoing them, "I can tell you want to!"

"Of course...you're doing things to me..." The Russian huffed, only to feel his laughter catch in his throat as an eager grip took hold of him. His voice changed to giving out quiet gasps, and his head turned slightly against the floor, bringing up one hand to put a knuckle to his lip, "Y-Yuri..."

The hazy younger man leaned forward, and set his left hand palm-down on the hardwood next to his fiancé's side. Half-lidded eyes gazed down on him affectionately, "Victor..."

Each pull and gentle twist sent a warm, almost electrical pulse through the uncertain Russian's core, rising up to his heart to encircle it, then spread out into all of him. His breathing became more ragged, and quiet gasps were turning to more emphatic moaned grunts of pleasure. He could've lost himself in the feeling, if not for his partner's words still rattling around in his brain, so he tilted his head around again to look forward. Sultry eyes gazed back at one another...and Victor was convinced. We've been like this a few times...so it's not like he doesn't really know what's going on, even in this state... Victor tried to rationalize. His hands went up around the man's head, cupping gently as they pulled him back down into a deep kiss; hips starting to roll under where Yuri still had a hold on him.

Clothing couldn't come off fast enough. Victor pushed up to sit, reluctantly stopping everything else so he could undo the rest of the buttons of his shirt and shrug out of it. All the while, Yuri continued the string of kisses as his busy hand worked at center. The button-down shirt was gone a moment later, pants and underwear barely being pushed far enough away to be out of the way. Victor fell back down to the floor again, dragging his partner with him, and hands moved between them to start working at the second set of clothes.

Reluctantly, Yuri stopped for a moment to wriggle out of his heavy sweater and cast it off, leaving just a t-shirt between his partner and his own skin. That didn't last long; Victor reached to pull the t-shirt away, too, and slid his hands from front to back to front again. When he'd gotten enough of his partner's bare chest to sate him for the moment, he slid his hands down to the man's waist, moving to guide him up and off his lap.  Yuri found himself turned and pushed forward against the seat of the blue couch, and scrambled to grab at one of the pillows to his left, holding it tight in his crossed arms as he felt the Russian doing the rest. A belt-buckle clinked as it was undone, the cord rustling quietly as the leather was pulled through, then a button clicked, and a zipper was undone. Fabric jostled and was pushed away, and a few seconds later, Yuri could feel his fiancé's desperation pressing up against him. Arms went around his smaller frame as Victor clung to his back, panting for breath already, and one hand went down between Yuri's legs to massage at that newly exposed flesh. Yuri gasped as he felt it, biting down on the edge of the pillow. With every squeeze and pull, he could feel his partner's length sliding up behind him, then down again, not quite trying to get in yet but wanting to. Pale, slender hands continued to roam and squeeze, silver hair dragging against his skin as Victor kissed the back of his shoulders.

But then the moment came, and the length became the tip, prodding gently while trying to find the right spot. In that last, brief moment before he felt the push, Yuri suddenly wondered what he'd gotten himself into. It became painfully clear in that moment that neither of them really knew what they were doing, and with barely half the tip inside, Yuri yelped like a kicked dog and clenched up, and pushed up onto his hands against the edge of the couch...lifting off of his partner in the process. He twisted where he'd risen onto his knees, and stared at his perplexed fiancé with a petrified look on his face.

"...Y-Yuri...?" Victor's voice quivered, though the stunned skater could barely hear it, "Yuri."

The moment was utterly and completely lost...especially when Makkachin came running over to find out why someone had suddenly screamed. The dog even started to lick Yuri's face to make sure he was okay, and with it, Yuri found himself stone-cold sober. Eyes were wide open and unblinking, but turned slightly to look past the dog, seeing the confused look on his partner's face, "...Sorry...sorrysorrysorry...!"

"Hah?"

"Sorry! I can't! I couldn't! I thought I could but I can't!"

Victor blinked incredulously, and watched his fiancé cringing there, all but crying for the embarrassment of having gone so far only to bail at the last second. He sighed and moved to sit on the side of his leg, reaching over to set his hand on his beloved’s shoulder, and spoke to him quietly, "...It's fine... ...Maybe next time."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWELVE

January 8

It was a strange feeling to wake up alone in bed for once, as it was a particularly rare thing at that point, but that's exactly how Yuri found himself. Not even Makkachin was around. He grumbled and rose to sit, only to feel a slight discomfort as he did so...and remembered the night before. Hands went up to cover his face after that, "...I can't believe I did that..." He whined quietly. Fingers parted, and he anxiously looked through them to see the lumps in the blanket where his feet were, "...Victor must be really upset with me... Is that why he isn't in bed right now...? I really lead him on..."

The big brown fluffer raised his head from where he'd been snoozing on the couch, and glanced up at where Yuri was starting to come out of the bedroom. The dog gave a low whine and a quiet bark, his tail starting to thump against the upholstery as Yuri came closer, then around the front of the couch. One nervous hand came up and scratched the poodle's head, and Makkachin leaned against the man's hip, eyes closed as he savored the attention.

"Ah, there you are." Victor's voice came, drawing Yuri's attention.

Nervous brown eyes lifted to the sound, and Yuri saw his partner in the corner of the kitchen, a newspaper folded in front of him that he was reading. A slow-cooker was on behind him, and the sweet smell of red wine and orange peel filled the air. A pale hand came up and waved the man over, and Yuri reluctantly stepped closer.

"I...I'm really sorry about...yesterday..." He said quietly, stopping a few feet away as his eyes went down. One hand reached across himself to hold pensively to the opposite arm, "I just..."

"Huh? Why are you apologizing?" The Russian wondered curiously, wedging the folded paper under one arm before he stepped closer, clad in just a fluffy bathrobe and slippers, "Yesterday was a lot of fun! I can't wait to it all again with different stuff today!"

"But...I... I mean, after we got home, and I..." Yuri fidgeted nervously where he stood, keeping his eyes low.

Victor stepped into his young fiancé's space. He slid an arm around the man's back as the other came up to place a gentle hand under Yuri's chin, lifting his face up. His thumb stroked at that pale jaw-line, gazing adoringly into his favorite brown eyes, before he closed his own and leaned forward for a light good-morning kiss. Once, twice...then for a long time on the third pass, long enough for Yuri to finally let his guard down and return the gesture. Crystal-blue eyes opened again and the Russian smiled, "Don't worry about it. You can say to stop at any time, even if we're in the middle of something. Don't ever forget it."

Cheeks were still pink though, and that dark brow still furrowed, "I know, it's just..."

"It was probably for the best anyway.  I should’ve stopped you before it got to that." Victor mused, pulling the newspaper out from under his arm to flip it over until he got to the page he was looking at before, "I hadn't thought about it until after you stopped, but we didn't have any lube at the time, so it probably would've been a bit painful, even if you were really relaxed from the hot wine. I don't want to hurt you, especially not on the first try."

Yuri had no answer to that, and simply drew in a sharp breath against his partner's neck, holding to him quietly.

"Look." The Russian said, changing subjects as he held up the newspaper, "Let's go here first."

"What is it?" Yuri wondered, seeing Cyrillic writing everywhere, but noted an advert for something that looked like a jeweler's shop.

"I've worked with this shop for some of the accessories I use on my skating outfits, and I've known the owner for years." The silver explained. He set the paper down and reached for his fiancé's right hand, holding it out to expose the ring, "I saw their ad in the paper and thought, we should go down there and get our rings engraved."

"...Engraved?" Yuri wondered, incredulously, "Aren't they okay as they are though...?"

Victor gave a sweet smile, and turned to face his partner more evenly, "They're perfect...but you only bought the one yourself. We should do something with them together. Something we can both agree on, maybe the image of skates or a snowflake or something. I was thinking these marks could go on the inside of the bands, so we'd be the only people who would ever know about it, and truly make them a matched set."

"...Your guy won't give us grief, will he?"

"She will be over the moon about us."

.

[OH MY GOD VICTOR YOU'RE FINALLY GETTING MARRIED I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO WASTE AWAY AND BEING SINGLE FOREVER I WAS SO WORRIED.] The older woman was saying loudly in Russian, and quickly, practically hopping up and down on her side of the counter.

Victor held fondly to his fiancé, "I had to wait for someone perfect, that's all! And I found that someone!"

[OH WOW I'M SO SORRY! LANGUAGE! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!] She blustered, only to switch gears entirely...and spoke just as quickly in English as she had in Russian, "HOW DID YOU MEET? HOW DO YOU KNOW EACH OTHER? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TOGETHER?"

She reminds me of Yuko-chan and Minako-sensei, but in one person...Yuri thought. Brown eyes turned up to the man next to him, and he wondered how Victor would tell the tale.

"We've actually known of each other for years and years and years, but we never officially met until more recently. We've been engaged for just about 3 weeks now." He started, pulling Yuri closer to the counter to speak more casually, "He asked me to be his coach last year, so I decided to go ahead and do that. That's why I've been gone for so long."

"Oh! So he's the skater you coached?" She beamed warm green eyes at him and reached out her hand, "What's your name?"

"K-Katsuki Yuri." He answered nervously, bowing politely, "Er, I mean...Yuri. My name's Yuri. Not Katsuki. That's my last name."

"He's Japanese. They say their names in reverse order out there." Victor explained happily, "He won Silver at the Grand Prix Final, but he's going to win Gold at Four Continents and Worlds! He's amazing~!"

"I'm so excited!" The shop-owner turned on a heel, "But now you have to tell me! What brings you in? Are you putting in a new order? Things have been so busy around here since the fall, I've had a hard time keeping up. I didn't even hear that you'd come home again until the other day! I heard you were going back to competition!"

"Da. Yuri convinced me to get back into it for another year. But I'm actually here for something else today." The Russian said, moving behind his partner to hold their right hands up together, "We were wondering if you could put an engraving inside our bands."

The woman's eyes got huge and her expression lit up, "Anything! What do you want in there?" She started reaching under the counter for ring cases and order papers.

"We were thinking something like this..." Yuri chimed in, pulling a small piece of paper out of his coat pocket, and unfolded it on top of the glass display case. Thereupon was a drawing of two rings stacked together, Victor's slightly larger ring on top of his own smaller one, with three small pictographs traversing over both. One big 6-pointed snowflake that had one half crossing each band, and two smaller snowflakes, one to the right of the bigger engraving on Victor's band, and one to the left on Yuri's.

The jeweler held herself up on an elbow as she examined the drawing, "Mh, yes, this should be a simple thing. We could have these laser-etched in an hour or so. Do you want to wait, or pick them up later?"

"We'll wait." They said at the same time, without hesitation.

It was nerve-wracking, but Yuri pulled his ring off and handed it to the woman once she was done filling in the carbon-copy paperwork, and watched as she immediately tied a thin white string around it, attaching it to a name-tag securely, and placed it into the first of the two velvet ring boxes. Victor's came off second, and she did the same to his, then took the drawing and both rings behind the counter and into the workshop behind the store's front-wall.

The horrible weird-feeling of having a naked finger was driving Yuri slightly stir-crazy, but he let himself be distracted by the banter between his partner and the shop owner. By the time their rings came back, Yuri felt like he knew the woman's entire life-story. A gruff, but thin older gentleman with a short-cut salt-and-pepper beard and waxed-to-points mustache came from the back room, carrying a small tray with the two velvet boxes on them, and opened them to proudly show off his work.

Victor beamed to see the etching on each individual band, but he quickly pulled them both out and held them together to see how the markings lined up, "Look, Yuri...!"

As asked, he leaned in close, but held fast to his partner's arm, his chin against the man's shoulder, and looked down at the two golden bands with their snowflake engravings, "Wow...! That looks really great!"

"This is so exciting~!" Victor went on, watching as Yuri reached over to take the top, bigger band into his fingers, and as he himself curled his fingers around the smaller one to bring it closer. The tag-strings were removed, and they turned to face each other. Victor reached forward to take his fiancé's right hand, "These snowflakes are a symbol of the ice that brought us together, and will serve as a reminder in all the days to come."

Hazel eyes watched brightly as the gold was slipped back onto his finger, sliding into place right where it had been an hour before. When it was in place, Yuri reached for the Russian's right hand in turn, and slowly put the second ring back into place there as well, "Everything on the ice is love."

The fingers of each hand wove together after that, and the two looked at one another adoringly. The anxieties of the RSF assault faded from memory, and they stepped into the kiss that they'd both so desperately wanted to have in Barcelona. The shop owner was clapping excitedly, hearts throbbing in her eyes. She had to stop to grab a tissue, only to continue her swoon over them again as she watched them hug each other afterwards. The engraver stood next to her, rather nonplussed as he deadpanned the two, with a look that could only be described as a 'kids these days' expression, but he slow-clapped anyway.

Victor turned to face the jeweler even as he held on, swaying his beloved back and forth gently, "I'm sure I'll be back soon. We're taking the week to celebrate Christmas with the city, but after that, I'll need to start putting together ideas for my come-back outfits. I'll need some razzle-dazzle from you guys for sure."

"You know where to find us!"

The silver Russian nodded, and let go of his fiancé only long enough to give the woman a friendly kiss on the cheek, "Da. Bolʹšoe spasibo." (Many thanks.)

.

Watching St. Petersburg's ballet performing 'The Nutcracker' was completely inadequate in getting Yuri's mind off the day's earlier events. He just couldn't quit the smile he had, even as they walked side-by-side through the streets to get to the Hermitage Imperial Theater, still cautiously water of touching in public. But, within the intimate little space of the ages-old theater, once the lights were low and the performance in full swing, they let their guard down a little, and threaded fingers together between their seats.

There were only six curved rows in a half-circle around the stage, with red velvet cushions and back-rests on the off-white wooden stands. In the center, two rows of individual chairs, and in front of them, two more rows of red-velvet benches leading down into the orchestra area. The stage was flanked on both sides by two massive orange-granite pillars, many more of which went around the circular room. Hanging above them all in the center of the ceiling was a massive crystal-and-gold chandelier.

The performance had entered into the second half, and Victor had huffed a laugh to himself, leaning over slightly towards his partner's nearest shoulder, "Did you know that I used to do ballet stage shows?"

"Eh? Really? When? What shows?" Yuri wondered, turning his head slightly, "I had no idea! It was never mentioned in skating magazines!"

"Da." Victor nodded, keeping his voice low as the orchestra went on around them, "Back during Juniors, right before I got noticed in competitive skating. I played a few roles in this show, Sleeping Beauty, and a few others, as part of the ballet lessons Yakov had me do. It was required as part of my training. A lot of it was for training during the off-season."

"...Wait...so when you did 'The Sugar Plum Fairy' for the Junior World Championships...?"

The Russian smiled and nodded, "I did it as a thank you to my former instructors." He leaned in a bit further to kiss the man's neck while he was there, then pulled back again, "The last time I did ballet on stage, actually...uhm...ten years ago I think? I did this show, in this place, and I've come back to watch a few times, too."

"Wow!"

Victor laughed and was about to explain more, but someone next to him suddenly whopped him good on the side of his arm, making him yelp in surprise and cast his eyes aside. Yuri pulled his hand back immediately, watching nervously as his fiancé loomed over their audience-neighbor darkly, "Čto, čert vozʹmi, tolʹko čto proizošlo?" (What the Hell was that for!?)

"SHH."

Blue eyes blinked, seeing a well-dressed elderly woman gesture with both hands towards the stage, then held one finger in front of her mouth, an incredulous look on her face like she couldn't believe he was still talking. The silver Russian sat back down after that, feeling a bit sheepish, and coughed to clear his throat, "Ja ponimaju... Sožaleju." (I understand. Sorry.) He then turned to his partner and reached over to those balled-up fists, "We were being loud."

"...Oh, okay. Sorry!"

Victor was quick to snatch-up the missing hand again, and set it palm-flat on his leg, then put his own hand on top of it, "I'll tell you about this ballet stuff later."

.

[VIKTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORR!]

They both lifted their heads at the sound of the shriek, pausing where they were trying to leave the theater after the show had ended. When they saw a small herd of dressed-down ballerinas rushing their way, Yuri blanched, but Victor seemed excited. It looked like no less than ten ladies, and at least two men, tried to bowl the man over with an onslaught of affection.

Other members of the small audience that were nearby when the 'assault' took place were trying to get away before being dragged into it, but Yuri found himself pressed up against a wall in surprise. He watched in shock as Russian words were thrown back and forth from the mass of performers, and then up to Victor himself, who seemed entirely too happy with his situation.

[Well well, look what the cat dragged in.] An older woman's voice rang, piercing the adulation with authority. The ballerinas and other dancers quickly made room, cutting a path between them and the instructor they all owed their skill to.

"Katya!" The silver Russian called out, trying to adjust his disheveled clothing, but then stepped forward through the crowd and kissed the immaculately dressed instructor on each cheek, [I haven't seen you in years!]

[Victor Nikiforov. You've always known where to find me. What's your excuse for being gone for so long?] She asked, smiling but serious as she leaned aside for each kiss, and gave her own in kind.

[You know, the usual...proving to the world why Russia is the best at everything.] He laughed, and took both of her delicate hands into his. He then let go with one hand, and used it to hold up and introductory palm for his fiancé, "Yuri."

The nervous young skater pulled himself off the wall, but stepped through the crowd of ballerinas to take his partner's fingers and be presented.

[Who's this?] The woman wondered, folding one arm over herself, the opposite hand going up to touch her cheek inquisitively, [It was big news all over Russia when you vanished last year. Is this the morsel you fled the Motherland for?]

Victor nodded enthusiastically, [His name is Yuri Katsuki. He's going to continue training under me here in St. Petersburg.]

[Is he worth your effort?] She said, eyeballing the skater the same way Lilia had once done to Yurio, but without the grabby-hands checking his teeth and physique.

[Oh definitely. We're planning a Pairs Exhibition right now, actually! You know I wouldn't share the ice with anyone unless I found someone worth dancing with.]

Yuri's confused brown eyes went between them, but he stayed quiet. As long as Victor looked happy though, he knew there was nothing to be worried about, even if he couldn't understand a lick of what was being said.

[You have always been selfish that way.] Katya agreed, [But he has that look on his face like he has no idea what's going on.]

[He doesn't speak Russian.] Victor laughed, "Right? Yuri."

"...Uhh...?" Was all the young skater could manage, "...Yyyyesss...?"

"Ah, English. I should have known." The ballerina huffed, speaking with a thick accent.  She uncrossed her arms to hold her hand out in greeting, "I am Ekaterina Chudov, but everyone calls me Katya. You may do the same."

"Oh." Yuri stammered, unsure what to do with the hand held out to him, since it was pointing out to him with the fingers facing down, instead of sideways like a handshake. He reached a nervous hand out and held to the fingers, but then felt Victor's hand under his elbow nudging it up, and he suddenly realized he was meant to kiss that hand rather formally...and he nervously did so, "I-It's very nice to meet you, Miss Katya."

Victor slid in behind to hold his partner by the sides of his shoulders, "Yuri, this is my ballet instructor! She taught me everything I didn't know I needed to know to be good at figure skating!"

"Oh, wow!"

"Did you ever take ballet instruction, young man?" Katya wondered suddenly, eyeballing the shorter figure softly.

"Y-Yes ma'am...I learned from Minako Okukawa, she was a-."

"Oh! Minako!" She seemed to light up at the name, "You were working with a diamond then; tough and unbreakable, but beautiful. How is she?"

"She's well. She has her own ballet studio in our hometown. I just refreshed my lessons with her a few months ago."

"Ah yes, she had said once that she wanted to make a school of ballet back home. Goodness...the last time I saw her was in Moscow, when she received her Benois de la Danse award some years ago. It is good to hear that she succeeded with her goals."

"Small world!" Victor mused.

"Indeed." Katya nodded, turning back to him, "So Victor, why did you decide to become a coach suddenly? You were doing so well as a competitor. I thought someone would have to drag you off a podium somewhere, and put you in a box so others would finally have a chance."

The silver Russian laughed nervously at that, "It's a long story...but I saw a video where Yuri copied one of my programs from last year, and I just couldn't help myself. I went to Japan as soon as I saw it so I could teach him how to do it perfectly. You should've seen the look on his face when he realized I was there."

"Wait..." The ballerina stopped, putting her hands into a time-out formation, "You're telling me that...last year, when the news was going ballistic about you leaving Russia...you did so immediately after seeing a video of him dancing, and had already moved into his house before he even knew you were coming?"

Yuri chortled, but Victor got a weird look on his face, as though being reminded of something he'd forgotten. He smiled innocently, "When you put it that way, it sounds terrible...!"

"That's about what happened though." Yuri shook his head but smiled bright, waving his hands around anxiously, "It's okay though...my house isn't a regular house. My family runs a hot-spring resort, so him showing up unannounced wasn't a problem. We have guests there all the time, and there's no reservation required. It was just surprising because he's Victor Nikiforov, and Hasetsu is a long way from St. Petersburg."

"I see." Katya nodded, but her eyes went down and saw the gold band on the man's finger suddenly; she quickly reached to take Yuri's hand in both of her own to look at it. She pulled up the thin glasses that had been hanging from a silver chain around her neck, and inspected it like an appraiser. She then let it go from her left hand, holding it only with her right, and turned her left palm up towards the tall Russian next to her, "Vitya, hand."

He just smiled like an idiot and held it up, "They're a matching pair!" He explained excitedly, turning his hand to offer it forward.

The ballerina nodded and looked back and forth between the two rings, "Mhm, mhm... Well..." She started, letting them both go. She then removed her glasses, and reached her right hand out to pet it against Yuri's shoulder, and looked at him squarely, "You trained under Minako Okukawa, and caught the attention of this fool..." She thumbed towards Victor, "...I expect big things from you."

Oh boy... He thought; he could feel himself starting to sweat under his shirt, and gave an uneasy nod, "Y-Yes ma'am...!"

January 13

"Here we go." The silver Russian came back from the kitchen with two steamy mugs of mulled wine, and handed one off to where his partner was already sitting on the big couch. Victor quickly reclaimed his spot in the one corner, three pillows behind his back, and brought one knee up as Yuri moved in closer behind it, wedging himself between the man's side and the back-rest.

"I almost feel bad drinking it. You've been making this stuff for hours."

"Then you better drink it!" Victor laughed, sipping at the mug himself, "...Some mulled wines are quick and easy, but some take way longer. Depends on the mood I'm in."

"What's your record?" Yuri wondered, breathing in the sweet and spicy smell before letting himself taste it. Cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, honey, orange peel, and a small wedge of fresh orange that floated on top.

"...Fourteen hours? Started at dawn and went to after dusk. I must've made some 20 different kinds."

"I can't even imagine what called for that much wine-mulling."

"I just felt like it." Victor mused, letting one hand go from the mug so he could play with his partner's hair a bit, "I've pulled all-nighters at the rink before, too. When inspiration strikes, you just go with it...be it skating routines, or mulled wine recipes."

"Have you thought anymore about your new routines? For Worlds?" Yuri asked, tilting his head back against his partner's chest.

"A little bit." The Russian shrugged, "I've been putting it off.  I take this Christmas-New Years break rather seriously."

"Really? You said in Hasetsu that your inspiration was overflowing."

"I guess my brain decided to do other things with all that energy." He mused, "This last week has been a lot of fun. Doing all this same stuff by myself or with rink-makes is okay, but doing it all with you...it's been like a dream."

Yuri's face flushed, but he smiled and nodded in agreement, "Deshou? I don't think there's been a single thing we've done all week that hasn't somehow blown my mind. St. Petersburg is amazing."

"We'll do Moscow sometime, too. New Year's in the Red Square is pretty intense."

"So what's up with Russia celebrating Christmas and New Years twice anyway? Everything is doubled-up and backwards compared to what I'm used to."

"Yeah? Maybe you only celebrate half as often and on the wrong days." Victor teased, "I dunno, it's been this way forever to me. Catholics get their stuff in December, Orthodox folk get theirs in January...Russia's church follows a different calendar and the dates are later. When I first realized the discrepancy, I sat around for days wondering how so many people around the world could get the date wrong on something they thought was so important. Then there was the difference between Santa Claus and Grandfather Frost, and how the rest of the world gave presents on Christmas but how Russia gave them on New Year's, and of course how Russia has a New Year's fir tree rather than a Christmas evergreen tree. Then I learned about the origin stories of all the holidays, and realized Catholics basically stuck their stuff on the solstice, but Orthodox folk had a set date specific for an event, regardless of the earth's tilt. Now a days, I just look at it and think...'oh well, four parties instead of two.'"

"Shouldn't there be five? What about your birthday?"

The Russian paused, a lip on the edge of his mug of mulled wine as he thought. He gave another shrug and took a sip, "Up until I turned 25, it was still fun to celebrate it. Ever since though, it just feels like time is slipping by." He turned and kissed the side of his beloved's brow, but then dropped his head back down to the arm-rest and pillows, "When I turn 30, I swear, I will disown anyone who mentions it."

Yuri just gave a look, "Yeah, I remember how much you avoided mention before. You focused entirely on it being Couple's Day."

"Sorry." The silver gave a wry smile, "I know most people celebrate birthdays as a happy time, but I don’t. It's more like, 'happy birthday, that guy's one year closer to being dead.'"

"That's...morbid."

"It feels like a morbid occasion sometimes." Victor sighed, "All that lost time."

"What do you mean? You've done pretty well for yourself, I'd say."

Crystal-blue eyes turned down again, and gazed on the young skater with fondness, but a sadness as well, "We've passed each other a hundred times over the years, and neither of us had any idea what we could be. We could've been together and married for years already." He explained. Images of competitions past were floating through his mind, imagining his would-be husband there in place of someone else who had medaled.

Yuri turned his head and set it down against the man's shoulder, holding the mug of wine on his stomach, "I don't know...that it would've worked out the same way under different circumstances."

"You don't think so?"

"It's impossible to know for sure. I wasn't the same person back then. I don't know that I would've been ready."

Victor looked on for a moment, but then moved to set his mug on the floor, and reached for his partner's to do the same before wiggling down a bit to face him more evenly. He twisted onto his side, back towards the big television as it showed live coverage of the nearly-midnight affair in Palace Square. His free hand settled on his beloved's side, and he nosed his face forward until he could feel tufts of spiky black hair against his skin, "You really don't think we would've worked out any other way...?"

Yuri's left hand came up, touching gently to his fiancé's worried face, "If you had never found a reason to come and stay in Hasetsu, there just wouldn't have been enough face-time between us for anything to happen. Meeting for a weekend now and again...it's okay for having competition friends, but not...for what we have now."

"You underestimate me." The silver legend mused, nuzzling in closer, pushing his knee against Yuri’s to nudge between them, “I’ve moved in with romantic partners before.”

It didn't take much more than that to convince Yuri to let the man have his way, and lifted his right leg over the man’s hip so Victor could nestle in.  With that settled, Victor slid his hand up his partner's thigh and pulled the man closer, tilting just enough onto his back to make room to get his knee up all the way. He felt hands moved to his shoulders, and he continued his gentle but eager kisses, moving from lips to neck as hands continued to roam. Shirts were starting to pull up, fingers seeking at newly exposed skin. Victor nosed at his partner's blue frames, but then smirked quietly, kissed the man's forehead and started to move down. He twisted around carefully, holding deftly to the man's side to set him down onto his back against the arm-rest, kisses continuing to trail down Yuri's neck and chest. He stayed there for a moment, giving attention to one pink nub as his hands moved down to free his partner from the tortures and confines of fabric, smiling as he heard the hiss of a sharp breath being drawn in once he'd gotten that flesh free.

Yuri was helpless to the man's touch, his senses overwhelmed by the attention more often than not, and all he knew to do - as Victor went lower - was to paw at the man's shoulders or arms where he could still reach them. When he felt the hot, wet warmth of a mouth around him though, his hands came right back up again. It was just a few kisses at first, moving up the length of him and down again, then a tongue trailed back to the tip before a few fingers helped to lift him up for better access.

Nervous, half-whined breaths spurred the silver Russian on, determined to get his partner to be louder on every new occasion. He'd already made substantial progress on that end, especially in seeing how the anxious younger man didn't completely ball up into himself whenever he was touched. Arms that once clamped down on his chest, hands held over his mouth...Victor had seem them slowly come away, leaving that perfect, athletic body more open and relaxed.

He bobbed and stroked against that stiff length of flesh, his free hand trailing across his partner's stomach, feeling for every twitch and twist that skin made. After a time though, both hands were moved to a single united front, one helping massage while the other struck for new territory. He knew his efforts were noticed when the leg pinned between his shoulder and the couch suddenly clamped against him rather tightly, and Yuri himself gasped differently than before. A finger gently rubbed at the skin just under his tender bits, pressing against it like a soft button. Within seconds, there was a slightly different taste in his mouth, so he pulled back a moment to see what had happened...and his curiosity was confirmed. A clear fluid was coming out; something he'd known before, but only to his eyes.

"Wh...why...did you stop...?" Yuri asked between breaths.

"Oh...was it good?" Viktor wondered, his attention redirected as the fingers working at the apparent fun-button went up to gather the fluid up on them, "I thought I'd try something different."

Dazed eyes looked on in confusion, "What...what you do is always good..."

"I want to try something else then." The Russian suggested, moving to sit up a little straighter where he'd been lopsided against the seat-cushions.

"What do you want to do...?" Yuri's voice was sounding urgent, like he couldn't stand the gap in attention.

"Be easier to let me try it, and tell me if you like it or not."

"Oh, o-okay... Nhg...ekh!" Yuri managed, right before his body clenched up as he felt it; a finger had gone well below where he'd normally expected, feeling at a spot that had been unhappy with the last attempt. But it didn't go in, it merely pressed and circled, stroking slowly, but then was lost in the return of all the previous sensations resuming. His voice quaked under the overwhelming pulses of warmth from his core, and although it still surprised him, feeling the finger go inside didn't spook him as much as their first attempt had. He grunted against it, but the leg that pressed against his partner's shoulder hooked over it after that, his other leg pinned under the man's free arm, an elbow against his thigh where that hand was still working at center.

It went on like that for a moment, but Victor pulled back, continuing on only with the 'come hither' motion of his finger, "Is it okay?" He asked.

"I...uh..."

I can feel the spot... The Russian thought, Am I not touching it right? ...Or is he one of those men that gets nothing out of it? He wondered nervously, "Yuri...feedback..."

"I don't...I don't know...it feels weird..."

"Does it feel good-weird?"

"...W-what...is it supposed to feel like...?" He was gasping still, but wasn't trying to pull away like last time.

"Everything should feel much more intense than normal." Victor explained pensively, Please react... If it doesn't feel good then how can I justify wanting to go all the way later...?

"O-Oh...is that...what happened...?" Yuri finally acknowledged, "I didn't...realize that was...was it..."

Relief washed over him, and Victor went back to giving his fiancé his best; mouth, both hands, and the gentle sweep of his bangs across the man's skin. When the moment finally came, the silver Russian could tell he'd achieved his goal, as his fiancé did everything short of scream when it happened. The man's entire body trembled and twitched, and continued to do so for nearly half a minute, though by then, Viktor had moved back in over top of him, wedging his arms under that lithe back to hold him close. He kissed at his partner's neck and chest, feeling desperate but weak fingers clambering at the skin of his back, twitching as he joined their centers together again and started rocking his hips.

"V-Victor..." Yuri panted, nuzzling cheek-to-cheek with his partner, his right hand coming up to weave through the Russian's silver-grey hair as his ragged breathing went on.

Victor pulled back a moment, and nosed his fiancé affectionately, only to be surprised by how the man pulled himself up to kiss him. Slate eyes were wide, even as he was released again and he was able to gaze down at his flushed partner, "Yuri... I didn't think you'd...want to kiss me after I-"

"I don't care." He answered, still trying to catch his breath, even as his body continued to twitch with each soft and gentle thrust between them, "I just want to kiss you, all the time."

The surprised look changed to a loving smile, and the Russian found his cheeks flushed to hear the words. He lowered himself down again, and held his partner tenderly, pressing close against his frame, "I do, too."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

January 19

The first time Yuri set eyes on the St. Petersburg Skate Club, he had to pause, looking up at the architecture in stunned silence. He'd seen it a number of times before on the television, but being there in person...was different.

"I thought you said it was too cold to wait around outside like this?" Victor mused, coming up behind him suddenly, "You were all too eager to rush inside, but now you're just standing out here."

"I just..." Yuri started, looking from his fiancé to the building again, "The cold suddenly doesn't matter... I've seen this place from a distance so many times... I mean, right before you came to Hasetsu, I saw a program about this rink, and I saw Yurio do the quad Salchow for the first time... I feel like I have history here, even though I've never been here before. It's just...surreal to finally be standing in front of it. It's definitely a different kind of building from the Ice Castle, too."

"Ah, yeah...the show. RSF people come here all the time to do interviews." The silver nodded. He hefted his backpack a bit further up onto his shoulders, keeping his thumbs under the straps as he looked up at the building as well, "Usually after big competitions, especially if someone won something. I'm sure they've already come and gone since Yurio got back though." His right hand came down then and pressed gently to the back of his partner's jacket, "Shall we?"

The outside of the rink looked like a European palace, in its own way. Inside, huge windows overlooked the nearby river, and Yuri could see the bridge they'd come across on their way over. The walls around the rink were a dark aqua green-blue color, with the pillars around it a lighter version of the same. Three Russian flags, suspended vertically, with their signature double-headed eagle were on the far wall. Yuri was absolutely beaming to see it all, like he was about to recede into utter fanboy-mode, especially as he saw familiar faces out on the ice; Yurio, Mila, Georgi, and Yakov was there too, but he was on the rink-wall on the opposite side. Their presence was quickly noticed, and Mila yelled out at them loudly in greeting, letting the entire building know they'd arrived. Yurio just crossed his arms and scoffed. Georgi looked, but returned to what he was doing. Yakov on the other hand...

"VICTOR! YOU WAITED A WEEK TO COME!"

Victor smiled and sighed, glanced at his fiancé briefly, gave the man's hand a squeeze, and stepped forward towards the rink, "Sorry, Yakov! It was a holiday! I wanted to show Yuri before it was all over."

"YOU'RE THE WORST COACH! THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH YURI STILL NEEDS TO PRACTICE BEFORE FOUR CONTINENTS!"

Yuri could only blanch nervously where he stood in the background, "...Maybe that's where Victor gets it? It's like he thinks I'm the worst skater."

.

Quadruple Salchow...single Loop...triple Toe-loop...

Combination spin...

Single-knee slide...twist...quad Flip...

Yuri quietly cursed himself, landing the Flip without a problem and wishing he'd done the same when it mattered most.

If I hadn't touched down with my hand, I'd have scored higher in the Short Program and would've won Gold despite Yurio's higher GOE modifiers... Why did I score so low in the SP anyway!? Where did I lose 10 points from!? I scored over 100 at  both  the previous events…and then I performed  better  at the Final!  Dropping my hand down shouldn’t have cost me the whole thing!

He lifted his head and glanced around, trying to get his mind off the torment of that one mistake. Victor was nearby practicing as well, but that just lead to other thoughts though.

Things were so much easier when I had Victor as just my coach...but with him coming back to competition, it's like I can't focus. I'm anxious to see him skate again, but so scared that I won't live up to his expectations... How can I though? He's the greatest skater of our generation; the best in all of history, really. How can I possibly compete against that?

"Yuri!" He heard the man's voice calling from rink-side, "Bring it in!"

Yuri blinked in confusion, But he was just...in the rink a second ago, wasn't he? He thought frantically, wondering how Victor went from a step sequence to being on the rink wall with his jacket on in the seconds that passed between. Yuri just shook his head though, I must be over-thinking things again and didn’t notice the time... Nodding though, he clicked his heels and started skating for where the silver legend was standing within one of the rink's many exits, and noted that the man had a notepad in one hand, "So you've finally put your program to paper?" Yuri wondered, coming to a stop just a step or two away, frost sticking to his chrome blades.

"Oh, this?" Victor held it up, "No, I was tracking what you were doing. What was all that, anyway? You started and stopped half a dozen times. I saw bits of both your programs out there, but nothing consistent. Then you just kind of quit at some point and stood there for a while, not doing anything."

"Oh." Yuri stammered, "So that's what happened. I guess I'm just...distracted."

"You know where that leads." Victor mused, reaching out to ruffle his beloved's hair a little before sliding his finger along the man's jawline, tracing to his chin, "What's wrong? You're not still upset about the RSF conference are you? That was almost 2 weeks ago already. Even I'm over it at this point."

"It does still get under my skin a bit, yes...but..." Yuri sighed, "Maybe it's just starting to sink in that you're actually coming back as a competitor. I mean...I know that's what I wanted, but... I'm nervous about competing against you. I don't know if I'll be able to live up to my end of the bargain, and win Gold...not when you're there trying to win it, too. I can't come close to beating your scores."

"You beat my Free Skate record!" Victor reminded him, "Plus, you're not the only one that's nervous." He used his finger to draw his partner closer to the rink wall, "Both of my records were shattered at the Final. You've gotten so good in such a short amount of time...it scares me a little to think about how high your scores can go, moving forward." The hand slid from jaw to the side of the man's neck, fingertips lightly brushing through a few strands of black hair.

Yuri's face flushed, but his brows furrowed with worry, "...Please don't say something like that, Victor..."

The silver blustered a confused laugh, "Why not? It's true. You and Yurio are really forcing me to step up my game." He said. He put both of his hands on his fiancé's shoulders and used them to turn the anxious skater around, then pulled him back until the heels of his blades were grazing the edge of the ice, where frost met concrete flooring. He pressed in against his partner's back, arms sneaking against the man's sides to put his hands across that scrawny chest, "Close your eyes."

Yuri did as told, and felt those arms hug him a little tighter.

Victor set his chin down on the shoulder he'd been looking over, and closed his eyes as well, "The crowd is cheering, anticipating the next skater to step out. There's a hum in the air; everyone can feel it. The best skater in the world is going put on a show..." He said, setting the stage, but then leaned in closer to one ear and whispered, "Next to take the ice, representing Japan...Yuri Nikiforov... Aaaaaah~!" He added, mimicking the cheers of an imaginary audience.

Cheeks flushed again, and Yuri opened his eyes a little, "Are you sure I didn't have a heart attack and die when we got to your house? It's all too perfect, like my ideal afterlife."

Victor gave him quite the look, one eyebrow raised, but then huffed a laugh and licked the back of his partner's neck.

"Yeek!" Yuri's whole body quivered when he felt it, and he brought his hands back up to his mouth, as though somehow that would put his shriek back inside.

The Russian just laughed at him and held him tighter, resting his chin on the man's shoulder again like before, "That works better than a pinch, I guess. Have I convinced you that you're alive and awake now?"

"...O-oh sure...fully awake..." Yuri answered from behind his hands, lowering one to hold where Victor's were flat against his chest, while the other went back to rub at the spot where the man had left a wet trail on his skin, "No doubt about it."

"Is there anything in particular you want to work on?" Victor then wondered casually, "The quad Lutz maybe?"

"...I've been trying to figure out what I did wrong at the Final during my Short Program. Replaying it in my head, over and over..." He answered pensively, and lifted his eyes to look out through the massive windows that lined the river-side of the arena, "Even though I did the Flip, and lost a point for dropping my hand down...I can't think of what I did wrong to cost me so many points in other areas, compared to me other scores. I went out there thinking I'd skated the best show of the season, but then barely scored better than at Regionals." He turned his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of his partner, "...You saw the show from the Judge's perspective. What did I mess up?"

"Do you want to pull up the score cards again?" Victor offered, "See the actual numbers they gave you?"

"I know I was nickel-and-dimed to death on a lot of things." Yuri recalled, "But the numbers are just the answer...I want to know the reason they scored that way."

"There’s a lot of personal subjectivity coming from the judges." Victor shrugged, and pulled back again to slide his hands from chest to shoulders. He gave a gentle thumb-rub into those tense muscles, "Other than putting your hand down during the Flip at the end, I didn't see anything wrong with your SP.  Maybe they just weren’t in the mood for a sexy performance."

Yuri went quiet for a moment, trying to lose himself in the feeling of the shoulder-rub. He lifted his right hand and looked at the gleam on his ring before turning his blades to rotate around and face the man, "I have to keep getting better." He slid forward a little and set his hands on his partner's waist, moving in close, "You've been able to push me this far in just one off-season... It's more than Celestino was able to accomplish in all the years I was in Detroit. How much further do you think you can push me...? Is there a limit...?"

Victor extended his arms out over his fiancé's shoulders, lazily hooking his fingers together as he thought.  He held there a moment before pulling his right hand back again, and tapped a finger against his lip, "You have the stamina.  I think there'll be a point where you can do six quads in a Free Skate. If you do most, or even all of them in Tano form, then..."

"...Raising my arms up like Yurio did..." Yuri said aloud, and lowering his eyes a little as he imagined it. When he lifted hazel orbits again, he found his intended words being cut off by a kiss. Eyes went wide for a moment, but Yuri soon settled, closed those eyes again, and let himself exhale his tension.

Victor huffed a laugh, "One thing at a time. Get good at what you haven't mastered yet, and then worry about making things harder for yourself.  Until we consistently see you land quads in competition, we can’t be greedy." He spun his beloved around again and pushed him out a bit further onto the rink's surface, then turned to remove his own blade guards, and joined him. He sped past like a silver blur, twisting around to skate backwards around the short end of the rink, warming up a little, "Come on, let's practice 'Duetto' while it's clear."

Yuri nodded, and reached out to take his partner's hand as they came close to each other. They headed out towards the center of the rink, and let go again only to let Yuri take his position; Victor moved off a little bit to give the man space. Perhaps unknown to the pair, or maybe even in spite of it, Yurio gawked at them from the rink's edge, on the opposite end of the ice from where they'd been talking before, slouched motionless over the wall like a can of frozen paint. He watched them quietly as Yuri performed the first part of 'Aria,' completing his two initial quads, though stumbling on the Lutz again like he had been. Emerald eyes skimmed over to where Victor entered the performance after the second jump, touching Yuri's face briefly before they clasped fingers and started skating backwards together in an arc. Yurio couldn't decide if the display was weird or fascinating, so he reserved judgment for the moment.

A few seconds later, Yuri pulled out in front of his partner, and the Russian held fast to his waist. In one fluid motion, Victor hoisted him up into the air before the flip brought him back around and down, then held him low against his side to drag Yuri's bladed feet behind them. Yuri held onto his fiancé's left shoulder with his right hand, letting himself hang as low as he could before being pulled back up again, then spun over the Russian's back until he was upright and they could skate on their own again.

Shit, they're doing pair moves now? No wonder it looked all weird. Victor wasn't teaching him 'Aria' at all! They're doing a new program as a duo! Yurio realized, but then suddenly gasped at something else, "KATSUD-" He started.

Yuri abruptly went tumbling down with a crash and a shriek; Victor could do nothing but keep sliding, though he looked back in stunned confusion before putting the brakes on to go back.

Yurio grimaced and slid his hand down one side of his face, "Uugghhh... I should've said something earlier." He grumbled, and pushed off the wall.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Victor asked, now returned to his partner's side. He crouched down to a knee and looked his beloved over, "You were doing really well."

"My blade got caught on something," Yuri explained, still feeling a bit of whiplash from the sudden tumble. He rubbed his head and looked at his hand, "...That really hurt."

"You're not hurt-hurt, are you?"

"Only my pride. ...I'm just glad you didn't catch it." Yuri said, shaking his head, "We both might've gone down if you had."

"Tsh... Victor doesn't fall." The teen grumbled quietly, unheard by the duo as he came out onto the ice in his sneakers. He carried with him a bucket of shaved ice, with a hockey puck and a spray-bottle of water.

"You sure you're not hurt?" Victor insisted, helping his fiancé back to his feet, "I saw how hard you went down...it was like you were pulled."

"I caught the crack just right."Yuri retorted as he brushed the ice dust off his backside and thighs, then looked around at the ice, "...Now that I look at it, it's like the ice hasn't been resurfaced in a while."

"That's because the zamboni has been broken-down for a few days." Yurio said indifferently as he finally got close enough to be heard. He stepped over to where he remembered Yuri getting snagged, found the crack, and packed it solid with the shaved ice. He smoothed the small white pile down with the puck, forcing the frost into the deepest reach of the crevice, and misted it for good measure. "The morning class was full of a bunch of asshole kids who thought it would be funny to smash their heel-picks into the ice and make holes as deep as possible, knowing full-well that we’re having to manually patch things as we go. That's why I'm not skating right now. Only you two idiots went this far out...the rest of the team stayed to the far side of the rink. We don't plan on breaking our legs before going to Euros."

"...Are you the only one left?" Yuri asked, looking around briefly.

"More or less. Some people are in the side-rooms cooling down."

"Hey Yurio, you want to come over tonight?" Victor then asked, "I'll make you some katsudon."

The teen paused, shifting his eyes towards the sound of Victor's voice from where he stood facing away with his bucket. Before he knew what he'd even said in response, he realized he was following the pair outside the skating arena and was crossing the bridge with them. He walked on Victor's side of the sidewalk, while Yuri was on the other, holding onto Victor's hand like a duckling-toy being lead along with string. He couldn't help but gawk at their hands.

"You two turds don't make any sense." Yurio finally said. "You know that?"

"What do you mean?" The oldest of them wondered, looking over at him.

"You two." He waved one hand at where they held theirs together, "That. This...thing you have going on."

"You mean our relationship?"

"Call it whatever you want; it's weird. I never expected you'd play on that side of the fence."

"Truth be told, there isn't really much of a fence for me." Victor explained, and gave Yuri's hand a little squeeze to reassure him that what he was about to say was just that...an explanation, "I've had girlfriends before, as you know. I appreciate beauty in all its forms."

"Katsudon wasn't exactly beautiful when he did 'Aria' last year. He was just some fat, depressed quitter."

Yuri blanched, but said nothing; he did gawk back over his shoulder though and gave the Tiger a pouty-faced look.

"Even diamonds start as coal. Kobuta-chan just needed a little pressure to shine."

"Aw c'mon, don't go back to that..." Yuri begged, "I lost the weight just like you wanted..."

"And you're the tastiest little pork cutlet bowl in the whole world right now, don't you worry, Yuri." Victor mused, and reached over to pinch his beloved's cheeks with his free hand, much to Yuri's chagrin, "I won't let you get a squishy tummy again."

"Ugh gross." Yurio stuck his tongue out like there was a bad taste there, "Are you gonna make me listen to that crap all night? If so, I'll just go see if my grandpa will make his katsudon pirozkhi instead."

"Don't worry." Victor reassured, "I'll only be eating the food tonight."

Yuri dropped face-first into the snow, needing to be dragged along from then on.

Yurio nearly jumped off the bridge.

Victor just kept laughing.

.

Rice.

Eggs.

Breaded pork cutlet.

Katsudon was fairly simple as a dish, but that special something extra that only Yuri's family – and now Victor - did made them taste even better.

Yurio practically vacuumed his out of the bowl as his older rink-mate put it in front of him, "This isn't half bad, Victor."

"Spasibo~!" He answered cheerfully from where he was on the other side of the kitchen island.

"So you really have a new routine already to take the place of 'Agape'?" Yuri wondered, surprised to hear it, "When did you come up with it?"

"After the Final. I'm just not feeling it with 'Agape.'" He explained, "But it's not like it's a bad program. It's just not my style. I asked Victor to arrange a program that would get me gold at my senior premier, and it did that, so it served its purpose."

"What are you going to change it to?"

"A song you've probably never heard of." Yurio answered curtly, and returned to his katsudon.

"Ehehe...probably..." Yuri said meekly, eyeballing the bowl of food like a starving animal. On his own plate, after all, was not katsudon. By comparison, it looked like rabbit food, at least to him. His stomach growled, begging for the pork cutlet...even just a bit of rice that had fallen from Yurio's plate would be enough. Just one...little...piece...! Drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were wide like saucers.

"Quit gawking, fatty!" Yurio barked, whapping him across the hand with his fork, "BACK!"

"I wasn't anywhere near your food!" Yuri protested, coddling his hand, "You attacked me from halfway across the table!"

"You're hovering!"

"No I'm not!"

"No fighting, kids, or you're both grounded." Victor said, cleaning up the dishes he'd been using.

"BUT VICTOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR." They both argued.

"I won't hear another word." He said with finality, only to find Yuri practically crawling onto his side of the kitchen like an emaciated snake.

"Victor...I'm so hungry...please let me have just one pork cutlet bowl...I promise I'll go running after...I'll run twice as far...!" He begged, "This is torture, letting him have some while I have to eat rabbit food!"

"You did this to yourself by refusing to let me kiss your gold medal at All Japan.  If you want to play it that way, then you didn’t win anything at all." Victor insisted, "So the sooner you win gold at Four Continents, the sooner you get your katsudon."

"But it's still weeks awaaaayyyyyy!" Yuri whined, practically a puddle on the ground now, grasping at his coach's leg in desperation, "I won't make it!"

Victor sighed and picked him up.

Yurio just glared at them in disgust, and turned his nose up to scoff at the quietly, "God, you're so domesticated, Victor. You really are dead."

"You never came over before now, so how would you know?" The elder mused, setting the wet rag - previously known as Yuri Katsuki - back into his chair.

"Tsh..."

"When are you leaving, anyway?" Victor wondered, sitting down at the table now with his own food and a cup of hot mulled wine, "Euros is this weekend."

"Yakov booked our plane for tomorrow. Didn't he tell you?"

"No, why would he?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I'm not competing? We all agreed at the RSF conference that it was too soon. I don't even have my new outfits yet."

"But you're part of the team, you should be there to support the rest of us." Yurio explained, "It would boost everyone's morale if you came to cheer us on instead of keeping it all for Katsuki over there."

"We were both cheering for you before." Victor pointed out, "You just got all mad because you thought we were being condescending." He had that knowing smile and winked at the teen from just above the rim of his mug.

"You were just making out with his skate-boot!" Yurio protested, using his fork to point at Yuri, "What was I supposed to think you meant? You were trying to get me all worked up so I'd make mistakes!"

Yuri could watch the pair for hours, he suspected, and neither would ever bring him into the conversation, even though he was half of what they talked about. He was fine with that, though, for the time being. His attention was half-grabbed by his fiancé's cup of hot wine anyway; it smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves.

"You were already worked up." Victor continued, and pulled off a piece of bread from the heel in a basket between them, "Maybe it's for the best that you part ways with 'Agape.' You have too much spunk for that still."

"Too much spunk!?" Yurio was half on the table at that point, "I can do 'Agape' all I want!"

Victor leaned against the counter as he nibbled on his bread, "But you don't feel 'Agape' when you dance it, Yurio. That's my point. You're still shockingly unaware of yourself. Look at how you're practically bouncing off the walls with energy. Maybe you need to visit a temple again?"

Yurio grumbled and got back down off the table, subdued by the memory alone, "No, it's fine."

"A polar-bear dip might even work better for you."

"I'm not jumping into an icy lake." The blond finally sat back down with a gruff sigh. He tossed his fork into the bowl casually, and knocked a bit of rice onto the table...right in front of Yuri.  Cherry-hazel orbits eyeballed it carefully, practically trembling at the temptation. But...Victor was always on top of things, and before Yuri could try and grab the morsel, the Russian had already wiped it away, moving behind the pair's chairs to clear Yurio's dishes away, then took it all to the other side of the island to the sink.  The blond just grumbled, sitting sideways in his chair with one leg bent up so he could hold his knee close to his chest.

"I'd go cheer you on if I could." Yuri said quietly, "I'd really like to see your new short program in person. We'll be watching the LiveStream for sure."

"Do whatever you want." Yurio huffed.

Yuri lowered his eyes away at that point, feeling a little defeated. Every time I try to reach out to him, he rebuffs me, Yuri grumbled inwardly. He narrowed his focus, and thought back on the training they did together before the Hot Springs on Ice event. Maybe that's all he knows how to do. He's such a blow-hard, but his skating is unlike anything most people will ever see. If he pushes himself this hard to keep one step ahead of me, then...his skating says more about what he thinks of me than he could ever put into words. He thought on, then gathered his courage up again and turned back to the Punk, "...I'm going to win Gold at Four Continents, Yurio, and then again at Worlds."

“Hah?” The blond turned his head, as though not sure he’d heard correctly. Even Victor had to turn his head over his shoulder to hear what else was going to come flying out of his fiancé's mouth.

"And then, I'm going to win Gold at the Grand Prix Final in the fall next year." Yuri leveled a stare at the Russian Tiger, straight in the eyes. So if you have any respect or affection for me whatsoever...then try and stop me! He thought, so loudly he thought Yurio could hear it.

Perhaps he had; Yurio lowered his face slightly and gave a knowing smirk, “You’re on.”

Once dinner was over, Victor left to drive Yurio back to the new house that the teen and his grandfather had moved into. One hour...two hours... When he didn't come back in the time frame that was given, Yuri started to worry. He started pacing around the house, holding onto his phone, waiting for a call or a text or anything. Makkachin watched him go...sometimes following, sometimes not.

"I should message him..." He said to himself, opening the text window to do just that.

[Victor, where are you? Everything ok?]

He sent the message, but none came back immediately. In fact, even after 10 minutes, nothing happened. He stared anxiously at the little Delivered icon under his text, pleading for it to change to Seen. When it finally did, Yuri sat upright, seeing the three bouncing dots appear on Victor's half of the window, indicating that he was typing.

[1s]

1s? What does that mean? Yuri wondered.

A moment later, the phone rang in his hand, startling him into throwing it in the air. He quickly snatched it back and answered, "Victor!"

"Yuri, I'm so sorry." His voice wasn't normal, "I meant to call you sooner, but everything just got so crazy all at once, and I couldn't get a hand free to even pick my phone up."

"What happened? What-...Victor, what's going on!?" Yuri had to hold both hands to the device for fear of dropping it.

"We got to Yurio's new place, and he went inside. I waited for him to let me know everything was good before I left, but he came running back out in a panic. His grandfather...he found him on the floor in his kitchen. We're at the hospital."

"...Do they know what's wrong?"

Victor looked from where he was standing at the nurse's station to the doors of the ICU. Yurio was standing close, and Victor held him in place with one arm across his chest and shoulder, "We don't know a lot. The doctors are still doing what they do. ...Oh, wait, here comes someone now...hold on."

Yuri held the line, trying desperately to hear anything, but whatever words were spoken, they were Russian anyway, and he realized again that it made no difference whether he heard them or not. He sat back down at the kitchen table, propping his phone-arm up on a knee while his other hand held at his cheek with worry.

"Yuri."

"Yes!" He sat upright with a start.

"Get some bedding ready from the hall closet. Yurio will be staying overnight. His grandpa had a heart attack."

"A...heart attack...?" Yuri repeated with disbelief, "Is he going to be okay?"

"They're taking him to surgery. The doctor said he was stable for the moment but they need to find where the blockage took place and fix the damage. He'll be in there for a while...there's nothing more we can do, so I'm bringing Yurio home now."

"Be careful coming back, okay?"

"I will. Don't worry."

Yuri could feel his throat clenching, "I love you. Please get here safe..."

Victor paused a moment, surprised to hear those words. They'd been tossed around in conversation prior to that moment, but never said so directly. He smiled despite himself, "I love you, too. We'll be home soon."

Yuri pulled the phone away from his ear and watched the window change from an active call to the text message window he'd been looking at before. He closed the device and watched the screen change to black, and tried to calm his shaking hands. At the hospital, Victor did much the same, but put his own phone back into his pocket before he turned his attention to the teen trembling in his one-armed embrace.

Yurio looked blank, unblinking. He just stared ahead at the doors to the ICU, imagining all the horrible things that might be happening beyond his line of sight. He could feel Victor tug on him in an attempt to get his attention, but he couldn't really find the energy to react. Tears welled in the teen’s eyes and started to roll down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. Victor saw that much, and turned him around, pulling him close to his chest in a tight hug.

"Yuri..." He whispered, "Vse budet horošo. On budet v porjadke. My ego vovremja našli." (It's going to be fine. He'll be okay. We found him in time.)

[He could've been on the floor like that for hours.] The blond finally said, staring blankly ahead as Victor held his head protectively, [If I had gone straight home, or if I'd gone back when you guys left, instead of...instead of...]

[Don't think about it like that. You had no possible way of knowing this was going to happen.] Victor explained, desperate to prevent the teen from blaming himself, [There's nothing you could've done differently. You did everything right.] He leaned down a little and held the blonde's shoulders, looking straight into those emerald eyes, [This is not your fault. Listen to me. Nikolai is a strong man, but he needs you to be strong for him right now. Can you do that?]

Yurio was still blank, staring ahead at nothing.

"Yuri!" Victor barked.

That seemed to snap him back to reality, and his glossy eyes became shiny again. He blinked a few times and looked around, but soon the energy of awareness escaped him, and he fell against Victor's chest, pulling him to kneel on the floor with both hands clinging to him desperately as he finally let himself cry.

.

It was nearly 3am when Victor finally pulled into the garage, and helped escort his charge back inside the house. Yuri had done as asked, and set up a makeshift bed in the livingroom for the teen to hole-up in for the night.

"Thanks for doing this, Yuri." The exhausted silver said, unburdening the blond onto the couch.

By that point, Yurio had cried himself out and was ready to sleep, falling into the heap of blankets and pillows like a corpse; Makkachin trotted close and whimpered, licking the teen's hand gently. Victor pulled the Tiger's shoes off and hoisted his feet up into the comforter before pulling the blankets over top of him and made sure they were snug.

Yuri felt helpless, watching everything unfold while trying to keep out of the way.

Eventually, Victor came up and put his hand on his partner's hip. Yuri was quick to respond, sliding his hands over his fiance's shoulders to hug him long and tight, doing everything he could not to cry into the man's neck. Victor spoke quietly, "I'm going to sleep out here tonight and keep an eye on him, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure thing..."

He could feel the worry in Yuri's voice, and pulled back just enough to offer a kiss, "It'll be fine."

Yuri nodded, "I know, but..." He lowered his voice, "What about the European Championship? He can't go like this...he'll bomb like I did in Sochi..."

"I'll call Yakov in the morning. We'll sort things out." The silver answered as well as he could, keeping his sights on his partner's soothing visage, "The best thing for him right now is rest, and to know that he's surrounded by people who care about him. I'll find out tomorrow how the surgery went and, who knows, if Nikolai pulled through, Yurio may not suffer too much of a loss from this blow. He just needs the night to recover from the shock of it."

"Right..."

"You get some rest, too, Yuri. There's no sense in everyone losing sleep tonight. Makkachin will keep you company." Victor insisted, trying to reassure his fiancé as best he could, "He's good for cuddles."

"I wish there was something more I could do. I feel like such a lump."

"Wait for me." The Russian suggested, "Let me take care of Yurio. There's nothing anyone can do about what happened, so there's no point lamenting it. But, I'll need you when this is all done...so, wait for me."

Yuri nodded, and pulled into another long hug before Victor could return his attention back to the teen; Yurio appeared to have fallen into a dead sleep by that point. He watched as his partner moved to lift the Tiger's feet and sat down where they'd been before, setting them on his lap so he'd be immediately in sight if Yurio woke up in the night. Yuri then turned back to head towards the bedroom, with the big brown poodle trotting close behind.

.

By mid morning, Victor had already been on the phone with the hospital and their coach, just as he said he would be. With Nikolai making it through surgery, and stable in the ICU, Yakov decided it would be fine for Yurio to go to competition...if he felt up to it.

[If Yuratchka decides not to skate because he's worried, then he can't blame me for not letting him on the ice.] Yakov said, [At least he'll be there and he'll have the chance. That's the best anyone can do to that end.]

[Agreed.] Victor nodded, [Do you want to come get him or should I bring him to you?]

[I'll get him.]

[Alright, we'll make sure he's ready when you get here. Bye.]

Yurio still looked partly catatonic where he lay on the couch, the blankets pulled up near his head. Everyone in the house had dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep, particularly Victor, who had taken the bulk of the responsibility for the night's watch unto himself. Yuri could sense the fatigue press down on him, but continued his lonely vigil, as told, and without complaint.

By noon, Yakov had arrived with Lilia and collected the young skater. The former Prima Ballerina did her best to console her young pupil, but he couldn't hear her. He sat in the back seat of the black Mercedes and waited to leave in silence. By the end of the day, Yurio would be in Ostrava, Czech Republic. With any luck, there would be better news of his grandfather before he was set to compete.

Victor found himself looking up at the sky, and said a small prayer for the teen as the car pulled away, and hesitantly closed the front door. He slumped into the livingroom and took in the sight, now that it was calm and the tension had been lifted. Yuri had already started picking things up to wash or put away, and while Victor had intended to help, he ended up just falling into the pile of blankets on the couch, exhausted.

Yuri saw him go down face-first, and shook his head, "You're going to bed properly." He said, and moved over to help hoist the half-conscious Russian through the nearby door.

When he finally tumbled onto the bed, and rolled on his back, Victor let out an audible sigh of relief, spreading out on the covers as though he'd never known such comfort before. Yuri went to draw the blinds and pull the curtains closed. When he went back to see if his partner needed anything, it looked like he'd already fallen asleep. So, not wanting to wake him, Yuri smiled and went quietly for the door.

"...Wait..." Victor mumbled, getting the younger man's attention, and raised his left arm to reach for him, eyes still closed.

Yuri stopped and looked back, seeing the hand as it reached, and moved back to return the gesture. As he felt his fiancé's fingers against his skin, he sat on the edge of the bed, "What is it?"

"I need you." Victor answered quietly, barely louder than a whisper, "I roughed it last night and I'm all sore."

"Aww..." Yuri cooed, "Poor Victor, all tuckered out from being responsible."

"Being an adult is so hard..." He pouted, and cracked one eye open to look through his silver bangs, "I’m absolutely exhausted.  I can't sleep right unless I'm with you. Look what you've done to me, Yuri."

"I couldn't sleep well either. Makkachin's a nice cuddle-buddy and all, but he's not you." Yuri agreed, and turned slightly where he sat so he could press his free hand down gently on top of Victor’s, “I think we both deserve a long nap; what do you say?”

“It’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.” The silver agreed, and lightly pulled the younger man’s hand in a gesture to beckon him closer. 

Yuri went easily, and took his usual place as the little spoon, feeling warm breath against the back of his neck and the gentle nuzzle of a nose in his hair.  Arms wrapped around him, and he felt a long, breathy sigh against his skin, sending him off to sleep.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

[Grandpa!] Yurio called out frantically as he rushed into the kitchen, skidding to a halt on the floor, [GRANDPA!]

The old man was clutching at the middle of his chest with his right arm; his left seemed paralyzed.  His breathing was labored.

"VICTOR!" Yurio screamed, [VICTOR, CALL 112!!]

No answer came though, and Yurio could only guess that his rink-mate was still in the car waiting for a signal that he could leave.  He didn't want to leave his grandfather alone though.  Torn for what to do, he touched his grandpa's forehead.

[I'll be right back, I'm getting help!]

He ran past the edge of the kitchen wall, leading into the short hall to the front door, and grabbed the wireless phone from its charger as he went.  In his panic, he entirely forgot about his own cellphone in his hoodie pocket.  He kicked the door open as he pushed buttons, and Victor saw him immediately, practically bouncing off the inside of the car door in his effort to get it open.  Yurio was struggling with the antique device in his hands when Victor finally came up to him.

[What's going on!?]

[My grandad!  He's on the floor!  I can't get the phone to work!] Yurio panicked, [Call an ambulance!]

.

"Yuri!"

Green eyes fluttered a little where he'd been leaning his head against the car window, and he glanced up at the sound of his name.  Everything was such a blur though.  He couldn't tell who'd called to him, or if anyone was still talking to him now.  His sights eventually trailed over to the window again, watching the world as it passed him by.  The signs for the airport whizzed past; thankfully, it wouldn't be a long flight to the Czech Republic.  It was practically a stone's throw from the Russian border.

As the bright outdoor light morphed to the subdued lights of the departure terminal, Yurio could see people talking around him; their mouths moved, even if he couldn’t hear what they were saying.  He thought he could hear the far-off sound of muffled voices, but he was too numb to care what they were even trying to say.

He pulled out his phone and looked at its black screen for a few minutes before finally turning it on, went to his contact list, and saw Victor's name there.  The thought occurred to him to FaceTime his rink-mate, but the longer he hovered his thumb over the touch-screen, the harder he found it to rationalize why he should press it.

I wish you were coming...  You're the only one who really understands...  The rest of these people, they're just...I can't even hear them anymore.

He became aware again when they were on the plane, and it was just starting to gain that final burst of speed before lifting off the ground.  It all sounded so terribly hollow. 

I wish I could go back under that pile of blankets.  I wish I could've stayed there forever.

.

Yuri looked up from his phone and glanced at the sky, and spotted a plane flying overhead on a westward trajectory.  He wondered if that was the plane his Russian counterpart was on.  Makkachin rushed around the back yard, catching snowballs as Victor made and tossed them.  The sound of a bark as the poodle missed one brought Yuri's attention back down to earth, and he returned to his phone.  The Euros website was loaded, and he clicked through a few links until he could find the local skate-times for the Men's Program.

"It's so weird to think to think I'll be able to watch the show live this time." He commented, "Normally I have to wait until it's over, and watch it when it airs on television wherever I am.  Avoiding spoilers about the scores and who won was always hard.  I had to avoid Instagram for whole weekends."

"We should call Chris and wish him good luck." Victor suggested.

"Yeah." Yuri nodded, and checked through his contact list to find that particular name.  A few seconds passed before the screen switched over, showing Christophe's face, happy to receive the message.

"Yuri!"

"Hey, Chris.  You ready?"

"I'm always ready." He answered with a wink, "So it's true then."

"What true?"

"You convinced Victor not to compete until Worlds.  You're calling from his place, and he wouldn't leave you there to go skate."  Chris shook his finger at the camera-phone, "I was sure he'd be at Euros after he said he was coming back to competition for Nationals, but this will be the second event he's shunned."

"I actually had nothing to do with that." Yuri said, smiling nervously, "Victor doesn't have everything ready yet.  His new outfits still haven't arrived."

"That's a shame.  After hearing him say he was going to come back, I was really hoping he'd step on the ice right away." Chris sighed, "Now I'll have to wait until the end of March."  He moved his phone to prop it up against something, freeing up his hand so he could cross his arms and rest his chin on them, "In any case, I don't think I ever got to congratulate you on winning Gold at All Japan."

Yuri just sighed a little, "It wasn't much of a competition.  I only really went to secure my invitation to Worlds.  No one else in Japan has made it to the Grand Prix Final in a few years, and with the scores we saw, it might be a few more years before that changes.  Everyone I used to know that was any good has either retired or fallen off the radar."

Chris paused a moment, and held onto that last comment, but then lifted off his wrist-perch and bowed his head, "Well, it's good that you're going." He started again, "I missed you at last year's Worlds.  You're going to Four Continents next, right?"

"Yeah." Yuri eagerly nodded, "It'll be the last chance I have to win Gold before Victor comes back to competition, so I have to make the most of it.  I never beat him before, and I doubt I'll beat him once he's out there again."

"You'll win Gold at Worlds, Yuri!  Quit saying otherwise!" The Russian hollered from off-screen.

"You should be in bed!" Yuri called back.

"...Isn't it mid-afternoon in St. Petersburg...?" Chris wondered idly.

Yuri sighed with a laugh and nodded as he looked at the screen again, "Yeah, but Victor was up all night being responsible.  He only took a short nap afterwards though, and insisted on getting up with me when my internal clock said to get on with the day.  He's going to be delirious by night-fall."

"Being responsible, huh?" The Swiss skater echoed, "What's the occasion?  Normally, if he's up all night, it's because he's drinking."

"Mhhh..." Yuri hesitated and lowered his eyes a little, but then looked back up again, "Yurio...  His grandpa had a heart-attack yesterday.  Victor was up all night making sure everything was okay after they got back from the hospital.  He spent the night with us."

"Yurio?  You mean Yuri Plisetsky?"

"Oh...yeah, we call him Yurio because our names are the same." Yuri explained sheepishly, "Way back when he first barged onto the scene in Hasetsu, my sister said it would be confusing to have two Yuris, so she immediately added the 'O' at the end of his to tell us apart in conversation."

"I bet he looooves that."

Yuri deadpanned for a moment, "...I...actually don't think I've noticed.  The last time he said anything about it, it was when my sister was still pointing at him.  I thought he just got used to it." He explained, and lightly kicked his feet out a bit from where he sat on the concrete step off the back of the house, "He'll be there at Euros though.  We're hoping to have good news for him before he skates.  His grandpa was still in recovery when the plane took off, and didn’t have the strength to make a call."

"I see..." Chris nodded, unsure what else to say on the matter given how he had no relationship with the teen, "Well...  In any case, you were saying you thought All Japan was a dud...Four Continents ought to be better, right?"

"Yeah!  Phichit-kun is going to be there.  He's won more real Gold medals than I have so far." Yuri scratched his cheek with a cold finger, "Besides...looking at all the scores, Phichit-kun would've won Bronze if he'd been at Sochi with those same numbers.  He scored even higher than JJ did back then."

"Really?  I hadn't noticed that!" The blonde laughed, "But in all seriousness, Yuri...you'd have won Silver at Sochi too, if you scored the same there as you had in Barcelona.  You need to have more faith in your own abilities."

"That's what Victor keeps saying."

"Sound advice."

"How's Czech Republic?"  Victor suddenly asked, popping up unexpectedly in the background behind his partner, "Are you already there?  Oh wait, no, that looks like your room at home..."

"Correct.  My plane leaves later tonight.  I always sleep well on the flights, so I didn’t want to waste hours of the day sitting around."

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” Victor mused.

Chris waggled a finger at his rival, "I won't be able to take it seriously without you.  I was really hoping you'd come."

"Such is life." Victor crouched down.  He leaned his elbows across the back of his fiancé's shoulders, and tilted slightly to see around the mess of raven-black hair between him and the phone screen; Yuri lifted the phone up to make it easier, "I'd have gone if I had my outfits already.  I know what programs I'm doing.  Been planning them since last year...I just hadn't picked which ones I'd be using until after Yuri convinced me to come back."

Chris made a light-hearted but sour expression, "Skipping Nationals and Euros...you're letting your legacy slip through your fingers, Victor.  These kids are making it look easy."

The silver shrugged and smiled, "It's not like I wanted it to be this way; All Japan and Russian Nationals were happening at the same time, and I absolutely wasn't going to abandon Yuri and make him go to competition completely alone, just so I could go twiddle-off to Moscow.  I have one shot this season, and I intend to take my record back when I'm there."  He set his knees on the step on either side of his partner's seat, "I can't retire unless I do so with the record and the Gold."

Yuri blinked and looked back, "...Retire...?  What about next year...?"

"Ohhhh~?" Chris asked longingly, "What about next year, Victor?"

"I'm competing next year, too!  I only meant this was my one shot this season.  My winning streak is already shot, but I can still hold on to some things."

"Ah, okay...had me scared for a second," The blonde mused and fanned himself in relief, then turned his lime-green eyes to Yuri again, "You'll have to work harder than ever.  Victor got you this far, but he's still a sore loser; he won't just let you have gold.  You'll have to pry it from his cold, dead hands." Chris pointed out, then gave a knowing grin at his older friend, "His 28 year old hands."

Victor tossed his head back in dismay, "I only just turned 28 last month, Chris!  Give me the year before you start making it sound like I'm about to get older again!"

The Swiss skater smirked, "And I'll be turning 26 while you two are in South Korea.  Even I know I can't push my limits much farther.  You should take your post-skating career more seriously.  If you get hurt because you got greedy at the end...you might not even be much of a coach to Yuri for his own final years."

Yuri's brows furrowed at that, "Victor's too good for that.  He'll know when it's time."

"This is so depressing!" The Russian lamented, "I thought coming back to competition would be more exciting than this...but all anyone has done so far is give me grief about my age and time management skills and a bunch of other not-skating-relevant stuff..."

"Ahhhhh yesss..." Chris purred, "I think everyone on the circuit has seen the RSF press conference footage by this point, where they asked about some very not-skating-relevant stuff.  That was quite a speech Plisetsky gave at the end, too."

Yuri lowered his gaze away. 

"I'm actually still a little surprised Yurio would say the things he did." Victor admitted, huffing a single chuckle, "But I guess he's more offended by the idea of the team being insulted than he is by the idea of my being involved with Yuri.  He'd never defend my legacy so strongly if it was just between him and I.  That whole thing was in protection of Team Yakov.  Yuri and I being a thing outside of that shouldn't have even come up."

"Speaking of which, have you two tied the knot yet?  You made such a bold declaration that you'd get married once Yuri won gold, and he has at this point." Chris wondered, "I never got an invitation; I'll be quite upset if you went ahead without me."

"Don't worry.  It hasn't happened yet." Victor answered; Yuri was still quiet, "We've been so busy getting ready for Four Continents and Worlds that we haven't really had time to go over any wedding plans."

"I'm still surprised at you, Victor." The blonde pointed out, and tilted his head a little on his crossed arms, "It was one thing to surprise the world with dropping competition to be Yuri's coach, but the rest...  It seems so out of character for you.  You're not just trying to shock people now, are you?"

Yuri's stomach dropped at the very mention of it, and he grimaced at the screen a little, "He wouldn't..."

"Of course not." Victor answered immediately.  He swiped the phone from his fiancé's hands and glowered at the man on the other end of the FaceTime call as he stood up, "Yuri, excuse me a moment."

"O-Okay...?"

The silver quickly vanished into the house again, taking Yuri's phone with him.  Even Makkachin had to pause his rummaging to look up; he spotted Yuri alone and anxious on the step, and started to trot over.  Cold nubbins stepped onto the concrete and the poodle sat next to his solitary human, panting quietly.  Yuri pursed his lips a bit in worry, and kicked his feet.  He couldn't hear what was being said inside, and that just made his heart race.  All he could do was reach over and cling to the pup beside him, grateful at least to not be alone out there, waiting for whatever would come after.

Inside, Victor held his hand firmly to the back door to make sure it would stayed closed, then turned and put his back against it instead.  The fun-loving look on his face had already vanished, but when he turned to finally confront the figure on the call, his brows were wrankled and his visage clearly showed anger, "You couldn't have picked any other time to ask something like that?  You had to ask in front of Yuri?  You know how much he worries!  I'm going to spend weeks trying to convince him this isn't some damn act!"

Chris stayed defiantly neutral about it though, "Yuri was my friend long before you and him started talking.  I've protected him from bad actors before.  I trust you, Victor, but all of this has come on so fast that even I'm not always sure what you're doing."

"And you've been there for all but one of my ex-girlfriends; I've never held onto anyone this long.  You know I mean this.  And what the Hell do you even mean, 'bad actors?'  You think I'm screwing with him for fun?" Victor snarled, his heart pounding, "What kind of deplorable human being would do something like that?"

"You've had a long and steady career, Victor, but I've seen what you can be when you're scared." Chris pointed out firmly, and pointed at his friend through the phone, "You're teetering on the edge of retirement; coaching someone, an underdog like Yuri, has boosted your popularity quite a bit.  Getting involved with him intimately has made you a celebrity beyond what you already were...and Yuri, too.  However...you can be quite nasty at times; vicious even.  I don't want Yuri to end up being the fall-guy for your questionable attempt at staying relevant.  If this whole thing turns out to be a charade, and you were just using Yuri to prop yourself up on the way out...I'll never forgive you, and I'll make sure no one else does, either."

"Which is exactly why I can say with certainty that I’m serious!  Jeeze, Chris...  I thought we were friends."

"Victor...  Victor, listen to me closely." Chris said, gesturing for the Russian to lean inward, as though they were trying not to be heard in a public place.  Once the silver had settled down a tiny bit, Chris went on, "For as popular as you are, famous, well liked, loved by all your millions of fans...on this earth, you have a grand total of one actual friend, and that is me.  I know you keep secrets from me; I accept that there are some things you don't want me to know.  But in spite of it all, it falls to me, as your one friend, to be the little shit on your shoulder, making sure you keep on the straight and narrow when Yakov can't reach you.  You can handle another break-up...Yuri can't.  You're different for him, from everyone else in this world.  I want you to be sure that you're in this for him, not just yourself, because it will devastate him if it turns out you weren't actually invested."

Victor could say nothing; his eyes and throat stung fiercely, and he could feel a drip from his nose.

"Just be honest with me, Victor...  I know what I've seen of you over these last ten years, and I want to believe you mean it.  But I've also seen what you're like when you get tired or bored with something.  Just tell me you're thinking about this long-term." Chris asked, his tone on the edge of pleading, "If you're not, I need to figure out how to help get Yuri back home, so he's not stranded in a strange land."

"Do I look like I don't mean it?" The Russian finally spoke, tears falling free from his eyes.  He snuffled and reached up with his free hand to rub his nose, "You're trying so hard to prevent Yuri's heart breaking that you're breaking mine instead.  You're making me doubt myself.  You don't even know the things I've done to try and show him how much I care about him...to make being with me easy..."

"And he's doing okay?"

"Well, right up until now I thought he was!  He's probably out there wondering what the Hell is going on." Victor growled, then snarled low, "I swear, if you were right here, I'd punch you so hard.  This was really uncalled for."

"I just had to be sure..."  Chris sighed and grimaced, and rubbed a hand through his short golden hair, "...Alright...  Invite him inside and I'll apologize for this."

"Thank you." Victor growled bitterly.  He set the phone down nearby and rubbed his face, in an effort to 'reset' himself so he wouldn't look like such a mess.  Once he'd composed himself, he left the phone where it was and opened the door, "Yuri, please come back in." He asked quietly, and spotted both his fiancé and dog looking back at him in tandem.  They both pulled up from the step and moved closer, and Victor pushed the door open from within, holding it there until both were clear of it.  The panel clicked, and Victor held his hand there like before, "Chris has something to tell you." He explained, trying to keep the rock in his throat from hurting his voice more than it already had.

"...What's going on?" Yuri asked.

"Yuri...!  Yuri, pick up the phone; everything's fine." Chris' voice sounded, small and hollow where the phone was on the nearby counter.

Brow furrowed and heart racing, Yuri reached for it and lifted his up slowly.  That dubious face greeted him on the screen, "...Someone needs to explain what's going on before I stroke out."

"There's nothing to worry about.  I made a mistake and said some things that I shouldn't have." Chris tried to explain, "What I wanted to ask came from a good place, but the words I chose just made me look like an ass."

Yuri grit his teeth, but he could feel his pounding heart start to calm, and the nervous-angry look on his face gradually softened, "No kidding...  You had me really scared for a minute."

"I truly didn't mean it that way.  Sometimes I get so protective of my friends that I end up causing pain where I was trying to prevent it." Chris said, feeling quite guilty by that point, especially as he could see Victor skulking in the background of the call, "There was never anything for me to doubt."

"...That's...good to know...?"

"I'll go ahead and take off then," Chris added, "You called to wish me luck and I made a mess of it.  Please don't let what I said ruin your night."

"...Bye Chris."

Victor grumbled a sigh when he saw the light of the call dim and go black, "I can't believe he did that."

Yuri stared at the darkened screen, and let out a long sigh of his own, "I've known him for so long...  I know he can be forward sometimes, but that was beyond the pale."

"Right!?"

"Did you give him the gears, too?"

"Oh you bet I did." Victor agreed adamantly, and finally stepped forward from his darkened corner.  The red in his eyes - and the darkened circles under them - were rather obvious at that point, and Yuri couldn't help but reach up with his cold hands.  Victor pressed his own on top of them, sandwiching those frigid digits between his palms and cheeks, hoping to warm them up, "I'm so mad at him right now..."

"You've been crying..." Yuri said quietly, and brushed his thumb over that pale skin.  In the dim hall-light, it was hard to tell for sure, but Yuri thought he could see a faint shadow-line over his fiancé's left cheek, right in midst of those normal eye-creases.  A scar...? He thought, but shook the notion from his mind quickly to return to the moment, "Jeeze...  Did he at least apologize to you before you handed the phone off?"

"...Not directly, but..." The silver said, and shook his head where he could.  He reached forward, over his beloved's shoulders, and wrapped his arms around the man's thin frame, hugging tight, "I'm sorry now, too.  He's always been a bit selfish of me.  I should've considered he'd get like this..."

"Is he interested in you?" Yuri wondered pointedly, and slid his arms around his partner's back, "Do I have to compete with him for your affection?"

"You don't have to compete with anyone for my affection." Victor affirmed, and pressed his face to his fiancé's neck to kiss him there reassuringly, "You're the most important thing in my life.  No one could ever hope to replace you." 

"...Then we have to get him back for this somehow." Yuri suggested, trying to sound a bit playful.

"We'll crush him at Worlds." Victor suggested, trying desperately to bring the conversation back around in the end, "Then he'll have to look up at the both of us from the bottom of the podium.  It'll be our revenge."

Yuri nodded, and despite his anxious heart still fluttering a bit, he smiled, and pressed his brow to his partner's, "He'll be so jealous."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Group 1 had already finished their morning on the ice, and Group 2 was getting ready to start their Short Programs that afternoon.  It was Day 1 of the European Championships.  Chris was in the lead so far - as could be expected for someone who'd frequently scored silver whenever Victor was in the lineup. 

Emil was first on the ice that afternoon, scoring 86.17 for his Short Program.  Michele came on after that, scoring 87.20 for his own.  They were still well behind Chris' 92.73.

Yuri and Victor had managed to connect to the LiveStream of the event, and set up in the livingroom to watch it on Victor's big-screen.  Yuri sat cross-legged on the big blue couch, thumbing through the night's roster on his phone as Victor made sure the settings on his fiancé's MacBook Air were working where they connected to the television.  It kept stopping to buffer though, much to his dismay.

"I guess this is the trouble that everyone was having while trying to watch the Grand Prix series." He muttered, refreshing the stream a few times, "Sad that there isn't a dedicated channel for live international viewers."

"I'm sure satellite users get a channel." Yuri commented.

"I should've agreed to go with them." Victor sighed, "Then we'd both be there and this wouldn't even be a problem."

"Would you be content to just sit in the audience?" Yuri wondered with a wry smirk, looking over his phone at the man, "Everyone who saw you there would be asking why you aren't on the ice."

"Of course I wouldn't be content to watch." Victor replied, and pushed to stand up again, "But at least we'd be there."

The signal finally stabilized, and Victor went to join his partner on the couch, leaning against the arm-rest to get comfortable as Yuri leaned against him in turn.

"Yurio will be going up after this next guy." Yuri explained, "I wish we had something to tell him about his grandfather."

"I updated Yakov this morning, so Yurio should know there's been no change.  We'll just have to wait and see."

The Spaniard who took the ice ahead of Yurio scored 84.67, and cursed himself alongside his coach when he heard it in the kiss-and-cry. 

"Next on the ice, representing Russia, Ladies and Gentlemen...Yuri Plisetsky!"

Yurio then finally took to the ice himself, and it was obvious that he wasn't as energetic as he normally was.  He stood by the rink's edge to briefly listen to Yakov and Lilia giving him last-second advice, probably telling him to try to focus on his performance.  The camera finally panned close enough for the television viewers to see Yurio in detail; he was wearing the famous white and silver see-through outfit from the GPF.

"Oh, he's going to do 'Agape' after all...!" Yuri said, surprised.

"...This might be the one time we actually see what it'd look like to be skated properly..." Victor commented, "I guess he's seeing the silver lining to this whole situation."

"Or maybe he just doesn't want to ruin the premier of his new Short Program." Yuri suggested flatly, only to find his hair suddenly mussed up as his fiancé ruffled it in 'punishment.'  He laughed quietly despite it and settled in again.

Yurio took to the center of the ice, not bothering with the crowd acknowledgements before taking position.  Seeing it, Victor pushed off the arm-rest, feeling anxious, and held a bit tighter to his beloved than before.  Quietly, Yurio began his dance. 

Sic mea vita est temporaria...  Cuprit ardenter cariatatem aeternam...

The first jump would be a Triple Axel...

...and then it wasn't.

Victor winced, "It was just a double...this doesn't bode well."

"The flying sit-spin is one of Yurio's signature moves...that should be fine..." Yuri pointed out.

...and then it wasn't.  Yurio spun out entirely and ended up flat on his back.

Victor buried his face against Yuri's shoulder, "It's hard to watch."

"C'mon, Yurio...get it together."

The next set of jumps were well regarded at the GPF after Yurio had started putting one or even both arms in the air, but this time he'd decided not to.  He finally landed something without messing up though.  Yurio then entered into his step sequence.

Yuri watched with a worried look on his face, "He's just going through the paces.  He's not even trying."

The audience could tell that something was wrong, but there hadn't been any kind of announcement about Yurio's grandfather, so they didn't know what it was.  The announcers were kind enough not to speculate as they spoke aloud the moves that Yurio was meant to try, only to then correct themselves to reflect what he'd actually ended up doing. 

"Skater Yuri seems to be having a hard time out there today." Morooka was saying.

Oda agreed off-screen, "It's reminiscent to JJ Leroy's GP Final Short Program.  I wonder if he'll be able to recover and make it onto the podium at the end as well though?"

Hanc felicitatem aeternam esse oro...

When the music finally ended, Yurio held his pose for a few seconds longer than normal, then slouched and skated right for the rink's edge without even bothering with a final address to the audience.  Yuri's Angels were cheering him on despite the collapse, even if they all looked rather nervous about what they'd just witnessed.

Yurio sat with his face in his hands in the kiss-and-cry, and stood up to leave without a word when his score was called out.

52.63

Victor sighed, gawking at the screen with an exasperated look on his face, "...I should've been there for him."

The competition moved on after that, with a German skater coming on next to perform so spectacularly that people almost forgot Yurio's upset.  98.32 was his score, eclipsing that of the Russian and Chris alike.

Victor leaned back on the couch and pulled his phone off the footstool ahead of him, and dialed up Yakov since he knew Yurio wouldn't have his phone on him at that moment. 

When the elder coach answered, he sounded despondent, [Vitya...you really should've come.] He said in Russian.

[I know, I know...] Victor answered regretfully, [Put him on, please...]

Yuri watched the television, seeing where Yakov handed Yurio the phone on the screen; the three of them, including Lilia, were still hanging-out slightly on the rink side of the curtain.  Yurio took it, looked around a little, and then ducked into the stadium's underbelly where it would be quieter.

"Victor..." The blond was barely whispering, and he sat with a heavy thud on the benches where his team had set up their gear, [I can't do this...]

[Yes you can, just forget about everything else.  The ice is the only thing in the world when you've got your skates on, remember?] Victor said, his voice calm, like a big brother, [Nikolai would want you to do your best and stop worrying about him.]

[How can I do that though?] Yurio's eyes were dark, [He's all I have, and I nearly lost him.]

[But you didn't.  He's fine, and he's going to be going home soon.]

Yuri couldn't understand the conversation again, and simply kept his eyes on the television screen, watching the next few skaters in silence.  He leaned against Victor's upturned knee, wrapping one arm around it as the Russian kept talking.

[Your granddad and your cat will be waiting for you when you come home.  Potya's going to be so happy when you get back.  She rubs all over me when Yuri and I go check on her.]

[Did Katsudon see me just now?]

[Of course; we're watching it together.]

[...Put him on.]

Victor's brows furrowed with surprise, but he agreed, [Sure, here he is.]  "Yuri; Yurio wants to talk to you."

"...He does?" He answered, utterly perplexed, but took the phone all the same, "Hey."

"Sožaleju."

"Huh?"

More words were spoken, but Yuri couldn't comprehend what was being said, so he turned to look at Victor, waving one hand out in utter confusion.  He then put a finger on the mic and whispered, "He's talking in Russian.  I have no idea what he said."

Victor quirked a brow and took the phone back, then put it onto speaker so he could hear as well, "You'll have to say all that again so I can translate, Yurio."

"I SAID I WAS SORRY FOR YELLING AT YOU AFTER YOU BLEW IT IN SOCHI, IDIOT."

Yuri had been bowled off the couch by the outburst, and he looked up in confusion from the floor, "...What...in the world..."

"Ah, he hung up..."

"Figures..."

Victor set the phone aside and looked down at Yuri with an amused smile, "He almost never apologizes for anything.  You should be honored."

"We need to do something..." Yuri insisted, trying to finagle his way back to a sitting position, since his feet were still on the couch when he fell off of it, "We can't let him screw up his Free Skate, too."

"What do you suggest?  It's not like we're still in St. Petersburg or anything." The silver said sarcastically, gesturing around their house, which was definitely still in St. Petersburg.

Yuri finally set himself upright, "...I think I have an idea."

.

The next day came too quickly for anyone's tastes, but it came all the same.  The line-up was the same as the previous, with Group 1 going on in the morning, and Group 2 in the afternoon.  Victor and Yuri weren't watching this time though.  They had piled into Victor's car and traveled across the city instead.

Yurio sat on the benches, staring at the black fabric that covered his skates.  He leaned over his knees, hands dangling close to his ankles, and he flicked the pink and red fluff where it sprung up from the inside of each boot.  Like a cat that couldn't care less about the birds just outside the window, Yurio only paid attention to what was in front of him.  The scores of the other skaters didn't matter.  Their successes, their failures, the cheering of the crowd...it was all meaningless.  Mila tried to console the younger skater, but he brushed her off like always, calling her a hag and ignored the rest.  He couldn't even be bothered flailing like before when she hoisted him above her head, simply demanding to be put down with a flat tone as he hung there limply.

Yakov appeared through the doors with his ex-wife, and they beckoned for Yurio to get ready to get on the ice for his turn.  It was nearly 6:45 in the evening by that point.

As Yurio passed them, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, Yakov felt a familiar vibration in his own pocket.  He pulled out his phone and saw a FaceTime request from Victor.  He wasn't used to such things though, and even though he accepted, he held the device up to his ear like a normal phone, [Vitya, what is it?  Yuri's about to go on.]

[Yakov, pull the phone away from your ear.] Victor said with a laugh, [Let me talk to Yurio really quickly before he starts.]

The Russian coach sighed, and went to catch up with Lilia and their skater.  Yurio had already made it to the rink's edge though, and pulled his coat off along with the rubber guards on his blades. 

"Yuri!" Yakov called out, being ignored like he mostly had been since the event began, and watched as the skater got on the rink, [Yuratchka, Vitya wants to talk to you again.  Come back over here!]

Yurio glowered at the man, sighed, and came back as instructed, [What does he want now?] He asked grudgingly.  He took the phone from his coach, seeing not Victor, but Yuri there on the screen, "What is this?  Where's Victor?"

"Hang on a sec, Yurio."  He said with a nervous smirk, "Ready?"

"Next to skate tonight, representing Russia...Yuri Plisetsky...!"

Yurio couldn't hear what was going on in the background, but when Yuri flipped the phone around, he could see well enough.  His green eyes went wide, and tears immediately started to form in them.  Yakov and Lilia both noticed the change, and went to glower at what he'd just been exposed to on the phone.

It was the Russian Tiger's grandfather, with Victor, at the hospital. 

"Grandpa..." Yurio could hardly believe it.

"Good luck tonight, Yuri." Nikolai said, smiling despite his current predicament - hooked up to cardiac monitors and an IV drip, "Do your best.  I'll be watching."

"Davai, Yurio!" Victor said happily. 

"Davaaaaai!" Yuri added from the background.

The blond had his hand over his mouth, still in disbelief, but he moved it up to rub the tears from his eyes, "Spasibo...Victor, Katsudon, grandpa...spasibo..."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It wasn't enough to get Yurio on the podium at the European Championships, but at least he didn't completely fail in his Free Skate.  The crowd had roared their appreciation for the skill that they knew Yurio had, even if it was still rather subdued from his melancholy and stress.  Yurio himself felt almost rejuvenated by the applause though.

He felt like he was allowed to breathe again.

The fanfare upon his return to Russia was well deserved, too, and for once, he even gratefully took photos with the Yuri's Angels group.  He hadn't quite lost his mind yet though, so he resisted letting them put cat ears on his head, though a pair ended up there eventually anyway.  Victor and Yuri waited for him at the baggage claim, and agreed to take him to the hospital where his grandfather had been staying.  Fortunate timing meant that Nikolai would be discharged that same day, so Yurio would be able to go home with him, rather than having to leave him there and go on to that empty house alone.

The excited little ragdoll greeted her person/servant enthusiastically, rubbing against Yurio's legs until he picked her up, "Potya..."  He said happily, and cuddled the feline affectionately before turning back to the door to let Victor and Yuri help bring the rest of his things inside.

Yuri looked around curiously, seeing this tiny slice of his Russian rival's life.  Like Victor's house, there was almost no sign of anything outside of skating.  At least Yurio had his grandfather though.  He turned his eyes to his fiancé and gave a subtle look, but only briefly, I wonder why he still won't talk about his own family...?  I've asked twice now and he ignored me entirely both times.  At least Yurio's been upfront about how he's essentially estranged from it, except for his grandpa.  As he left the small household to go back to the car, he noticed that Victor had stayed behind a moment.  Looking back to see his partner standing just inside the doorway, he could only bet that Yurio had a few last things to say.

"I can't thank you enough for what you did." The blond told him, still holding his fluffy, petite cat, "If you had just left, instead of waiting like you did..."

"It's fine.  You don't have to thank me for all that." Victor insisted, "Any decent person would've done the same thing."

"All the same." Yurio said, "Thank you."

"We'll see you at practice in the next few days.  Take care and relax until then, okay?"

"Sure."

"Do svidanija."

"Da..."

.

Practice for the engaged pair intensified after that, as there were only a few short weeks left before Four Continents.  Polishing their coordinated Exhibition skate was weighing heavily on Yuri's mind.

"What if I mess it up?"

"You won't."

"But what if I doooooo?  I haven't had a chance to land a quad Lutz in competition yet, and we've been keeping to doubles while we work out the kinks..."

"You haven't even messed up the program yet in practice.  Well, other than that time with the crack in the ice, but that wasn't even your fault." Victor explained, "Don't be so nervous.  It's the Exhibition Gala, not the GP Final.  You're supposed to have fun doing it.  So...from the top."

Victor watched as Yuri skated back out to the center of the rink and took his position, lowering his head with one leg crossed behind him.  The Russian hit the play button on the audio controller, and Yuri started the program.  A double Lutz and a double Flip later, Victor himself entered the dance.  There were two other jumps to perform after Victor joined, one of which was done at opposite corners of the rink from one another, and the last was closer to the center, where they passed each other in mid-air before landing to skate backwards, sliding away from one another, right hand out, reaching to the other as though they were being pulled apart after just nearly, finally, coming together.  In the end, their dance had them come back together in the center of the rink, pulling each other closer together with their left hands as they circled, and stopped with each of their right hands up near the other's cheek.

Despite being out of breath, Victor clasped Yuri's ringed hand and kissed it, "That's it.  I can't wait for the Gala now.  It's perfect."

Yuri's eyes shone with excitement despite his continued worries.

"We should do a dress rehearsal next time, with proper quads and everything."

Nodding as he wiped the sweat from his brow, Yuri looked up in realization, "What about your new costumes?  Are they going to be ready in time?  It's been weeks since you sent in your request, and they still haven't arrived." Yuri wondered, and started to skate casually as Victor followed.

"They should actually be on the way now." The Russian answered, "It's a shame I'll only really get to use them for one event before the season's over."

Yuri put his hands on his hips as he continued to coast forward, and he wondered if he should open his mouth about another possibility. 

Victor could tell something was on his mind though, "...What is it?"

"Well, there's always the International Adult competition in May..." He dared suggest, "...You're...old enough...to qualify..."

Victor's face went pale, and slowly but surely, melted until he was little more than a Victor-shaped puddle on the ice, "...Old enough?  ...I can't...recover from this..."

Yuri skated around and went back over to him, "Victor..."

"That's a competition for old people..."

"Masters."

"OLD MASTERS."

Yuri nervously scratched the side of his jaw, looking at his weeping fiancé as he stayed flat on the ice, "It's not that bad...it's for anyone who is 28 or older by the specified time."

" BOŽE MOJ (Oh my god)  ...I'VE BEEN OLD ALL ALONG."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Yuri pleaded, and immediately began a string of emphatic, deep bows, "I'm sorry!  You're not old!"

"Promise you'll come visit when they put me into the old people's home..." Victor pleaded, sobbing pitifully as he reached a shaky hand towards his beloved, "Don't let me waste away all alone...!"

"You're not going to waste away in an old people's home!" Yuri insisted, "You're not even half-way old enough to be an 'old people'!"

"My tombstone should read 'Here Lies Victor Nikiforov... Husband to Yuri Nikiforov, former world champion, Gold medalist, died with a full head of hair...'"

"Victoooorrrrrr...." Yuri begged, "You're not that old...  You don't even have a bald spot..." He stuck his finger on the crown of that silver head to prove it, "See?  Can't you feel all that hair?"

"AHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...." The Russian wailed. 

"Get off your asses before someone skates over you!" Yurio yelled from the other side of the rink, "You're both old!  Get over it!"

Yuri promptly joined Victor in the puddle on the ice, "But I'm only 24...  Why does it hurt so much?"

Victor turned his head to his younger - but apparently still-qualified as old - half, "Did you hear something?" He looked up and around, almost dramatically, "It almost sounded like there was a baby speaking."

"Heh...BABY YURIO...the Russian Kitten!" Yuri agreed, buffering the taunt for everyone to hear.

Yurio just grit his teeth at them, "IDIOTS."

The younger of the two 'old people' finally sat up on the ice, still laughing at the whole thing, "Glad he's back to his old self again."

Victor pushed himself up to his hands and knees, looking sideways at his fiancé, "Agreed.  He's more fun like this."  He mused, and Yuri nodded in eager agreement before using the silver's frame as a lift-off point to get back onto his blades.  Once up, he offered his hands down to bring Victor up as well, which he accepted gratefully, "You should go through 'Eros' and 'YoI' a few times.  Maybe we can spot some areas for improvement or to make things more difficult for more points.  You still want to get a 3+ GOE for your Flip, right?"

"Do you think I should raise my arms up for some of the jumps?" Yuri wondered nervously, "I don't know if I can just yet...but Tano jumps are worth more than regular ones..."

"Well, that's why we're practicing now and not the morning of competition, right?"

"Shouldn't you practice your routines, too?" Yuri added curiously, and turned to skate backwards in front of the Russian, "I haven't really seen you do your stuff in a while.  It's just been 'Duetto' this whole time.  You're a genius and all, but..."

"I've had most of my programs memorized since before going to Hasetsu, don't forget." Victor pointed out, "I'll go through them later."

"You sure?"

"Yes!  I have all the time until Worlds to work on them!" Victor insisted, shooing his beloved off, "Go take your position!"

"Haaaai!" Yuri sped off with a start, heading back to center, "Which one should I do first?"

"'Eros.'  You've done 'YoI' fairly recently."

"Alright..." He nodded, and took his stance. 

.

Ga'ding-donnnggg...

Socked heels thumped on the hardwood as Victor went for the door, and pulled it open.  The sun was starting to go down, but a Courier stood there anyway with two pieces of mail in his hands.  A quick signature for them both, and the envelopes were passed over to him, "Mh, da, spasibo." He finished quietly, then turned to close the door and look at the writing, "Oi, Yuri!  Looks like our official invitations are finally here."

"Eh?"

Yuri, here!  A little bit of 4th-Wall-Breaking explanation! 

Every skating season starts in the autumn, and kicks-off with the regional competitions for those newly entering Seniors, or for those who didn't previously qualify for international events.  Once qualified, they can enter the Grand Prix Series; an assortment of six events that run from October to December, but to which most skaters will only attend two. The top six competitors from the whole GP Series will move on to the Grand Prix Final in mid December. 

After that, in January, comes the European Championship (Euros) - which is just for skaters from Europe and Russia - and then in February, the Four Continents Competition (4CCs) - which is for all non-European/Russian countries.  Each of these competitions are invitationals, and to qualify, the skater must first gain a certain number of points in an international competition in the current or immediately-preceding season, and then be chosen by their country to go.  The number of spots each country gets depends on how well each country performed the year before, with points being given to each skater for their rank.  Nations with enough points can send up to three skaters per discipline; most everyone gets at least one spot, so long as their skaters meet the ISU's minimum technical and age requirements. 

The World Championships take place in March, and the number of people who can go depends on ranking the previous year; the fewer number of skaters that went, the higher they have to get in the ranks to earn more spots the next year - for example, if Japan only sends one skater for Men's Singles, then that guy has to score in the Top 10 to earn a second spot the next year, and in the Top 2 to earn three spots.  If Japan sends two Men's Singles, then their total has to be in the Top 28 to get two spots, and Top 13 to get three spots.  Scores from any previous season can be used to qualify, and each country can use additional criteria to choose which skaters to send...which is why Victor is likely to go, even if he hasn't competed at all this season so far.

National-level competitions like All Japan and Russian Nationals are held throughout the season, with some starting early, like China sometimes going in September, and others going super late, such as Thailand, which is in early April, long after everything else has already ended.  It changes every year.

Thanks for your attention!  Back to the story!

Victor trotted back to the living-room with their mail and plopped down onto the floor-nest in front of the couch.  The movie on the screen had been paused for the door, and Yuri lifted up from the blankets and pillow he'd been curled-up in with Makkachin.  One hand reached up, and Victor offered over the JSF letter; seeing the Japanese text made Yuri's head flutter.  He pushed up to sit on his knees and pressed the envelope between his palms; a quick glance up towards the ceiling for a silent prayer, and he let himself open it.

Victor had already cracked his open and the letter was unfurled in his hands; Cyrillic text and the RSF logo greeted those slate eyes, and he nodded, "Just as I thought.  They can't do Worlds without me.  You?" He asked, and lifted the letter away with a lazy sway.

"I've officially been invited to represent Japan at Four Continents.  I did it."

Victor smiled and set his letter down on the couch-cushions behind him, and reached over to give a congratulatory shoulder-rub, "Of course they'd invite you.  You're not a dime-a-dozen skater anymore...you're the top skater in the JSF."

"This is such a relief still, to have it in writing now...  I never thought I'd see another one of these again after last year." Yuri commented, and sat back to lean against his partner's chest, head tilted back on the man's shoulder, "It's all thanks to you that I'm here again."

"I was merely a conductor waving a little white stick around while the orchestra played." The silver deferred, "Though...maybe I did have a hand in finding the instruments."

"Just a few of them," Yuri huffed, and twisted around just enough to lift a hand across and pull his fiancé's face closer for a kiss, "Still, this orchestra was playing blind before you came."

Victor offered a wry smirk, "You've been so worried about whether you'd even get to go, as if there was ever any doubt.  Now you have your piece of paper... we can really get to work." He explained, and pulled out from behind his beloved, "Or is there - somehow - something else that topped it?"

Yuri twisted in place to look at the man more evenly, and crossed his arms across himself, "I'm looking at the top."

"Ahhhh no, that's not quite correct." Victor retorted, though that just earned him a cock-eyed deadpan.  He resolved to explain himself more physically, and grinned mischievously as he rocked forward onto his hands and knees, and pushed his partner down to his back with a kiss.  With chest down and backside in the air, Victor teased his way between his beloved's legs, only to lift up a few inches on his elbows to see that confused and flustered face, "Now I'm on top."

"You can't ever take anything seriously."

"That's what I have you for."

Yuri couldn't help but blush, and fell silent for a moment before suddenly bursting out in laughter, and sighed a happy-crying groan, "Oh man, isn't that the truth."

"So you see?" The silver went on, and lowered down to his favorite spot under one of his partner's ears, "That's why we make such a great couple.  Your sense of stoic responsibility balances out my reckless spontaneity."

"You're saying I reign in your worst impulses?" Yuri wondered half-skeptically.

"Oh, most assuredly." Victor laughed, giving a few happy nibbles to that little patch of neck.  He lowered his back-end down, and slid his knees astride his beloved's hips, "Everything I do now goes through the 'what would Yuri think?' filter, and if something brings up your sad face in my mind's-eye, I immediately back off."

"Yeah?  Like what?"

"Like buying a 3kg tub of Nutella."

"Oof...that actually sounds kinda good..."

"Nooo don't say that!  I'll end up buying it anyway!"

"Maybe it can fill in the void of that bag of nuts we lost in Barcelona." Yuri wondered, arms and legs wrapping around that taught athletic frame above him, "I still mourn its loss."

"I could make an inappropriate joke right now about nuts, but I won't."

It took a second, but Yuri's face went bright red when he felt the nudge from his partner's hips, "Oh." He blurted, "Oh my gosh Victor you're terrible."

The silver Russian just hummed a laugh as he went for a kiss on those soft lips again, "Terribly in love, you mean." He teased, and gave another good push with his hips, "In which case, you would be super correct."

"You're not allowed to make jokes like that.  It's breaking my brain."

"More or less than everything else I've done in the last year?"

Yuri balked, and smiled anxiously, "...Yes."

"Oh, I see, well..." Victor laughed and slid forward again, "Then at least I'm keeping up tradition at this point." He mused, and went back to nibbling on that neck again.

"Being as inappropriate as possible?"

"Absolutely." He answered easily, and lifted up again just enough to look into those hazel eyes, "We should celebrate our letters by being inappropriate together."

Yuri hesitated a moment in dramatic thought, and made a weird face, as though to highlight that he had to consider the suggestion rather deeply, "Hmmmm...I dunno...  I thought I was the responsible one."

"Be reckless with me, Yuri~!"

"Give me one good reason."

"Because I love yoouuuuu~!" The Russian sang, comically gyrating against his younger lover right there on the floor.

"Ah, hm, I see.  I'll take that into con- nhg...consideration...ahh..." Yuri managed, feeling the more urgent and rhythmic rock against center.  His fingers curled into the fabric of his fiancé's t-shirt, and he hugged into the man's shoulder, holding tight as those waves of electrical need started to pass through him.

"Is that a yes?" Victor purred curiously, speaking the words against his beloved's skin.  He held himself up on just his knees and slithered his hands down and into his partner's shirt, pawing for skin.

"...It's...going to start to hurt if I say no."

"Then it sounds like I have work to do," He hummed, and hugged the man close against himself, "Omedetou, Yuri~" (Congratulations.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was already February 12th, and Yuri could hardly believe it.  Bags were packed, routines memorized, music on CD; ready to go.  Four Continents would be starting officially on the 14th, Chris' birthday, but the Men's Singles event wasn't until halfway through the competition. 

Yuri looked on his phone at the schedule for the 500th time, "Men's Short program on the 17th, then the Free Skate on the 18th...then the Gala at the end of the 19th..."

"You ready?" Victor asked as he returned to their bedroom, having already started taking some of their things to the shuttle that was waiting outside.

"Getting nervous, as always."

"We haven't even left the house yet though." The silver teased, and kissed his partner's cheek as he reached for the big black rolling-suitcase, with all of its poodle and Hasetsu stickers.

"I know, I know..." Yuri grimaced, and glanced over his shoulder at his idol, "But it's time to go."

"I guess it would feel a bit like a new experience after thinking so long that the Final was the end." Victor agreed tacitly, and wrapped his arms around is partner's waist to hug him close, his chin on that favorite shoulder, "But you've already done Nationals, little of it as you think.  And don't forget, you'll be allowed to have some katsudon after you get on the podium again."

Yuri could only drool at the thought, and Victor smiled, and gave that food-expectant tummy a gentle squish before he pulled away again.

"Come."

"You packed your 'Duetto' costume, right?" Yuri asked nervously.

"It was the first thing I packed."

"And mine is-"

"I packed that one second.  I made sure to mash them together so it's like they're making love the entire time we're traveling."

Yuri went red as he heard the words, which amused Victor for hours.  The Russian kept one hand on his beloved's leg as they travelled, rubbing his thumb back and forth slowly as the airport loomed ever-closer.  He even leaned over onto Yuri's shoulder to greet his soon-to-be in-laws when they called to wish their prodigal son luck, and they were, of course, happy to hear him.

Soon after, Yuri went to check his emails one last time before he knew his phone would no longer have internet access, and he saw a message that surprised him, "Oh, it's from Minako-sensei..." He said to himself, and opened it up to read that she would be at the competition to cheer him on.  Surprisingly, Mari was going to be there as well, "Mari-nee-chan is going to be at Four Continents, too?"

"Why wouldn't your sister come?" Victor wondered casually.

"Well, she came to the GPF because of Yurio mostly..." He admitted, "Heck, even Minako-sensei said once that she wished I hadn't bombed at Sochi because, because she wouldn't be able to find out which rooms all the other skaters were staying in anymore.  I sometimes wonder if they came to cheer me on at all." Yuri sighed nervously.

Victor gave a scoff of a laugh at that, "Of course they did!"  He insisted...though it suddenly reminded him, and he whipped out his phone again.  He pulled his fiancé close for a sudden selfie before fast-tracking to Instagram to post it, "Hashtag #SkateHusbands at #FourContinents!"

Yuri noticed then that Victor's phone case had changed.  No longer was it a caricature of Victor's 'Aria' costume...it the blue variant of his own 'Duetto' costume.  He blushed lightly at the recognition.

"Oh, do you like it?" Victor mused, realizing where his partner's sudden silence came from.  He held his phone out for inspection, "It came in this morning; just in time!  What do you think?"

"...Kind of jealous, actually." Yuri answered, "Where do you get custom cases like this?  The rhinestones on it even have that holographic shine."

"If you want one, just tell me, and we can put together the graphic." The Russian explained, "It's a little website that prints knickknacks; all we have to do is send them a good, high-resolution starter image, and they'll do the rest."

"Oh, wow...I had no idea it was that easy." Yuri puffed, and pulled out his own phone again to ponder.  When he turned it over though to look at the case he still had - light blue and speckled with several cute toy-poodle pictographs - he paused, and his previous excitement faded down to guilt, "...No, I couldn't..."

"Couldn't?"

"It's...dumb." Yuri said, and shook his head as he put his phone back again, "...This is the same phone-case I had last year.  I just...can't quite bring myself to get rid of Vic-chan like this, I guess."

"Ah, I see...that's okay.  There's no harm in keeping what you have." Victor nodded, and put his phone away as well.  He reached to thread their fingers together on the seat-divider, and kissed that closest shoulder, "Just do what makes you happiest.  For me, celebrating you makes me happiest.  I'm sure my phone case will change a hundred times over the next year, each one a depiction of all your different costumes."

"You always know how to make my butterflies flutter." Yuri said, cheeks pink as he smiled nervously, "Don't ever stop."

.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Axel called out; the triplets looked at Victor's post only a minute after it had been posted, "They're on their way!"

Yuko came rushing into their living room a moment later to check the post, "Go Yuri!"

"We should set up another public viewing at Yu-Topia!" Loop suggested, and the other two agreed excitedly.

.

By the time the skating duo arrived at the Dong-hae Medical Spa Convention Hotel, Yuri was once again severely jet-lagged.  He made it far enough to get into the hotel room, and immediately made for the sanctuary of sleep.

Victor almost wouldn't allow it though, "Yuri!  We should go look around first!"

"Look later.  Sleep now.  There has been face-to-bed contact."

"But you slept the entire way here!" Victor protested feebly.

"I prefer to call that 'recreational dozing.'" Yuri corrected, and turned his head to make his point, "I don't know how you can be so awake after such a long trip..."

"I never feel more alive than when I arrive for an event!"

"And I thought I was the one with stamina..." He puffed exhaustedly into the blankets.

"I suppose I have more travel-endurance~!" Victor suggested, a finger on his lip in amused consideration.  He couldn't help it though and tugged on his beloved's feet where they hung off the edge of the bed, "The energy of this place...it's intoxicating!  I want to go out and see everything!"

"My events don't start for another couple days...we can go sight-seeing tomorrow..." Yuri explained, "For now...sleep..."

Victor shook his head and sighed, and moved over to at least push his partner into bed properly.  That done, he looked around their small space.  It was early afternoon and bright outside, so he rummaged in their bags until he found the eye-mask Yuri needed to be able to sleep normally.  He gently sat on the edge of the bed and slipped it onto his fiancé's head, "I'm going to go take a look around then while you nap.  Message me if you wake up before I get back, okay?  I won't be far." He asked, and rubbed the man's back as he spoke.

Yuri nodded and yawned, "I'm sorry I get so jet-lagged after these flights...I want to come...I really do, I just..."  He said, one eye uncovered to peek back at the man, "I'm deceased."

"Yuri, it's fine.  Really!" Victor insisted, "Get your rest.  I'll scout the arenas and see who all has arrived.  I'll show it all to you once you're awake again."  He moved to pull the comforter over, and turned his beloved into a bed-burrito with a nuzzle and a peck on the side of his brow, "I'll see you later."

"See you..."

Victor quietly left the room after that, and pulled his coat close, looking rather official again in his coaching regalia.  He headed down to the administration desk in the Press Building to check himself and Yuri in with the ISU delegates, got their passes, and entered into the arena proper.  He looked around curiously, trying to get his bearings for the huge soon-to-be-Olympic complex, and got out the information packet that the ISU had provided.

"All Championship events, as well as some official practices, will take place at the Gangneung Ice Arena, with an ice surface of 30m x 60m.  The remainder of the official practices will take place at the Gangneung Ice Arena Practice Rink with an ice surface of the same.  Both facilities are in the same venue, indoor, air-conditioned, and heated.  Hmm..."  He looked over the pamphlet and saw the location across the street, "I wonder if Yuri has aspirations to be an Olympian?" He asked to himself, not quite noticing the crowd that had started to gather around him...or the photos being taken.

"Is that...Victor Nikiforov?"

"Is he here to compete...?"

"I don't think he can; he's part of the European group..."

Whispers rose on all sides, and he finally turned his head back to see the people grouping up nearby.  He was bewildered for just a second, but then fully turned around and gave them all a casual wink, "Hi there, everyone~!"

"It IS him!!" The crowd cheered.  Camera flashes went off like fireworks.  Victor could hardly move 10ft from that location for the next two hours, as wave after wave of surprised skating fans took notice that he was there.  It was unheard-of for a skater to turn up at a competition that they weren't participating in, never mind one that weren’t even participating in, but he quickly reminded them that Yuri was his reason for being there.  When it seemed like the crowd had finally sucked everything out of his afternoon energy reserves, he sighed and slouched, and looked around for an escape route. 

Phichit and Celestino arrived soon after, and shook their heads at him sympathetically, "I wonder where Yuri is if Victor's here without him...?" The younger of the pair wondered, and looked around in case his friend was just off to the side somewhere, avoiding the claustrophobic mass.

"Probably sleeping." Celestino suggested, "He never did travel well."

Phichit sighed, "Yeah...  Oh well, I'm sure we'll see him around soon.  I'll call him later."

Victor hadn't seen them as they passed, but soon, he found himself with a dire need to leave the area.  He'd given enough time to fans and was eager to scout the ice rinks.  He politely bowed out from the next requests for photos, and high-tailed it across the road to where the newly-finished ice arena loomed overhead.  He put in his ear-buds for good measure, and hoped to use them as an excuse to ignore other people wanting to distract him.  It worked well enough, and he skirted passed several large crowds without much trouble.  He showed his pass to the security guards at the door and was let inside.

The arena was enormous, at least three times larger than most venues he himself had performed at in the past, save the Olympic arenas he'd been in during years prior.  He whistled in admiration.

"Well well, if it isn't Victor Nikiforov, come to grace us Continentals with his shining presence." Came a voice, one that Victor only barely heard.

He turned around cheerfully, but his expression stalled as he realized Jean-Jacque Leroy was standing there with his fiancé, "Oh, hi." He said stiffly.

"Too good for your own Championship?"

"I'm not here to compete." Victor grumbled as neutrally as he could, "Hopefully that'll spare you another last-second melt-down like at the Final."

The brash Canadian took the insult in stride, "You're not the one to beat anymore." He pointed out, and stepped into the Russian's comfort-zone with a lean, "And one Silver medal doesn't make Yuri Katsuki a frontrunner either.  The law of averages says Phichit's a stronger contender; at least he won international Gold this season already."

"And Otabek."

JJ bristled, "Maybe so."

Victor could feel his thinly-stretched patience fraying at the edges, "You have it easy until Worlds.  When I'm back, I'll set everything straight." He said grimly, and thought, Why am I even saying that much?

"Even you have your work cut out for you, genius."  JJ pulled his sunglasses off his nose and settled them on top of his head, "You practically handed your crown away to Katsuki and Plisetsky."

Victor sighed tiredly, "Is talking to you always this dull and exhausting?" He grumbled, and put his hands in his pockets, cocking his head to the side, "You talk like you've ever come within 35 points of beating me."

"Maybe I haven't yet, but my time's come.  I'm a prime contender for Gold...here and at Worlds."

"You were a 'prime contender' for Gold at the GPF, too, and you barely coasted to Bronze by the grace of other peoples' shortcomings." Victor retorted glibly, giving the ages-old 'air quotes' with his fingers for emphasis, but then shook his head, "Yuri will be on the podium with me at Worlds, I guarantee it.  If you manage to rob Otabek of Bronze a second time, I'll consider it a miracle at his expense."

"We'll see, old man." JJ laughed, and turned back with his dark-haired fiancé to continue their tour of the facility.  He raised his hand sarcastically in a taunting wave, "Pretty soon the only gold you'll see is the gold on your finger!  We'll see how long that lasts after one of you quits skating!" 

Isabella at least had the sense to scold him for being such a jerk, but she only had the nerve to do so quietly, so no one really heard her.

Victor just scoffed a little and rolled his eyes as he watched them leave, and turned again to look at the ice.  His legs itched with longing, but he knew he had to have patience.  If Yuri loses his nerves and doesn't make the podium here, then I'll bury JJ at Worlds myself, he thought.  That conceited little weasel may insist on saying he has six quads in his Free Skate, but he's yet to actually pull them all off.  Yuri could do it...he has the stamina.  I just need to get him to believe he can do it.  He’ll be absolutely unstoppable after that.

Some other skaters he recognized started showing up to do the grand tour as well.  GuangHong was there with Leo; Otabek skulked around alone as he always did - though it seemed JJ had found him next, and walked beside the Kazakh like they were somehow good friends. Seung-gil seemed more at ease on his home turf.  There were even a number of female and pair skaters he knew, took several photos with them happily, and gave his well wishes to them in their own events.

It was strange to be at a competition where he knew so few people though.  It was a sad realization that most of his better-known rivals were part of the European bloc.  He'd have to wait until Worlds to give Chris the proper skate-thrashing he'd earned from the FaceTime chat they'd had prior to the European Championships.  He smiled and kept on walking.  Fairly soon, the sun hung low in the winter sky, and Victor knew he would need to head back to the hotel to check in on his athlete.  He opened up the text message window and typed away.

[Yuri, are you awake yet?]

A moment later, a reply came.

[Working on it.]

Victor smiled, and couldn't help but imagine the poor man still half in bed.  He started to type a new reply, [Take your time.  I'll bring coffee.  You're going to love this place!  Maybe we'll both compete here together soon.]

[We will?]

[Winter Olympics!] Victor typed happily, but then added one more message, [I'll be in the hotel in about 30 minutes.]

[Okay, see you soon.  LY.]

[LY2.] Victor answered, and put his phone away again.  He put his ear-buds back in place and started his break for the exit, thumbing through the ISU event-map to find the nearest café. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Yuri was sitting-up in bed when he heard the sound of the door lock unlatching.  He'd been sleepily looking through the other skaters' Instagrams when Victor finally managed to squeeze in through the door.  It sounded like people were hounding the Russian from outside, begging for photos or an interview and any number of other things.  He closed the door with his backside and leaned against it as he caught his breath, and held up the coffee cups he'd promised to bring.

Not one word need be said between the skaters as the cacophony outside slowly dwindled.  Yuri gave the 'mobbed again?' look, and Victor huffed a quiet laugh through a brow-furrowed smile.  He glided forward to set the coffee cups down on the dresser opposite the bed, then slowly peeled off his long grey-blue coat, and set it on the back of a chair before he took a seat at the foot of the bed.  He puffed out his chest for a moment to pop his back, and returned to pull one ankle over a knee to start undoing his shoelaces.  When he looked back, he saw Yuri just...quietly watching him, hugging his legs over the blanket, "...Something on your mind?" The silver legend wondered.

Yuri blinked at him, "Oh...uhm, well...  The usual." He admitted sheepishly, "I was just thinking about how this will be the last time you’re with me as just my coach."

"Maybe for this year.  There's a lot of places we could end up at during the next Grand Prix Series.  With the ISU officials knowing our professional situation, they might even make it so each of us goes to different events from the other, so we'd end up at four competitions instead of just two.  I mean, even though I wasn't in the last Final, I've taken Gold at past Finals often enough that they should consider placing me appropriately.  It wouldn’t do anyone any good – least of all, the rating for television – if they hobble the playing field by putting the A-team together at the same events, leaving the B-team to win gold at the others and take those spots.  They’ll spread us out."

"Oh, yeah, you have a point there..." Yuri nodded, and set an arm over his upturned knees so he could slouch against an elbow, "Next year is going to be nuts."

"I’m looking forward to it." The Russian pointed out.  He lifted off the bed just long enough to put his shoes away together on the floor, and then returned to join his beloved, "It’ll be even better since you’ll be able to sit with me when I’m in the kiss-and-cry waiting for my scores for a change."

Yuri listened quietly, and stretched his legs out straight as he leaned back against the headboard, "Would I even be allowed to?  You can share in my victories because you coached me.  But I haven't helped you learn anything at all."

Victor's brows furrowed in a worried glance, but then softened into a weary huff of a laugh, "Is this the sort of stuff you think about when I'm not around?" He asked, and finally wiggled his way up to be beside his fiancé.  He wedged one arm between Yuri's back and the pillows he was leaned-up against, and turned to hug him, "Sara sits with her brother, just cuz he’s her brother."

"That’s true.  I guess I just worry because it’s what I do." Yuri shrugged, but let himself be absorbed into the hug a bit, and twisted slightly in place to fit against his partner's chest a bit easier, "I actually had a weird dream while you were out.  It started off dumb, with me somehow winning all three medals – gold, silver, and bronze - at the same time.  Then it switched, and you skated, and the ISU officials actually took my medals back to give them all to you instead.  You were standing on top of the podium like a Christmas tree, decked out in all the dozens of gold and silver medals you've won over the years, with an NHK trophy as the tree-topper for good measure.

"Wow...that thing's heavy, too." Victor mused.

"That's when my dream backed up a bit, and I could see you in the kiss-and-cry with Yakov, celebrating your scores.  I tried to get closer..." Yuri continued, "But for some reason, every time I took a step, the kiss-and-cry somehow moved ten steps further away, until I was left in this weird dark void on my own.  I could still see this tiny glimmer of light in the distance, but I'm not sure what it was.  I forget what happens after that...I woke up and it all started fading from my head."

"Ah, yeah, I know that feeling...  Your dreams are so clear but they slip through your fingers like sand anyway, forgotten forever."

Yuri turned his head up, cheek pressed to his fiancé's winter-cooled neck, "You don't think my dream is ominous?"

"Oh of course I do...but it's just a dream." The silver explained, "Truth be told, I stopped dreaming a long time ago.  Well, dreaming like normal people do, I mean."

"...I don't follow."

"If I dream at all, I usually dream about my shows." Victor elaborated, and rubbed his cheek on his beloved's soft hair and brow, "It's like I can practice my programs for years before I do them for real, since I see them so vividly while I sleep.  By the time I wake up, even if I forget the actual imagery of the dream, I've developed the muscle-memory from it."

"...So that's how you came up with 'Eros' and 'Agape' for Yurio and I so fast...  I thought it was crazy when you said that you'd have them done in one week."

"That's actually a long time for me," Victor teased, and pulled up again to look at his future husband, "But I had to re-imagine the programs from your perspective and skill-level, so I needed to dream my lifetime as each of you before I could picture those shows."

Yuri pushed up to sit as well, and watched as his partner scooted off to find and return with their coffees, "I'm jealous.  I wish I could control my dreams like that."

"It's more of a reflex for me..." The Russian explained, and carefully sat back on the bed to offer the second of two cups, "But if you could control it, what would you dream about?"

The younger skater leaned his head up and smiled brightly, "I'd dream of endless bowls of katsudon, and that I'd never gain an ounce of weight from it...so I'd never have to hear anyone call me 'Kobuta-chan' or 'Debu' ever again."

Victor's contemplative smile faded in that moment, and he looked away a bit sheepishly, "Ah."

Yuri glanced forward, but wasn't sure what to say.  Part of him was glad that his fiancé recognized his own part in that minor torment, but another part was sad that he'd had to say something about it at all.  He brought his knees up against his chest again, arms wrapped around them loosely to hold his drink, "I guess you only said it to try and motivate me to lose the weight.  I don't...hold it against you, if that's what you're worried about."

"You did end up working your butt off.  I don't think I've ever seen anyone get on top of an issue like that in such a hurry."

"Well…" Yuri tilted his head a little, but laughed anyway, "I was already trying to talk myself up to it, before you came, saying I’d skate on the same ice as you again one day.  I guess it helped a lot when you actually showed up, and told me I couldn’t skate at all until I’d earned it.  But what would you dream about?  Or is the skating it already?"

"Eternal youth.  A full head of hair.  And, sure...to skate forever."  The Russian then sat up straight, and reached his right hand forward to gently hold to his fiancé's fingers, "...And a wedding."

Yuri flushed deeply at the mention of it, and returned the gesture, holding those fingers fast, "...I dream of that, too."

"What do you see in your mind's eye?" Victor wondered.  He carefully set his latte on the nearby nightstand before he turned around and squished himself against his beloved's knees, waiting for them to part so he could lay back and rest his head on that athletic tummy.  He lifted his hands out, "Paint me a picture." He asked happily, as though the far wall was a canvas, "Show me what you envision."

Yuri paused a moment with his lip on the edge of his cup's plastic mouthpiece, "Hmmmm...  Where to begin...?  I guess...I picture the dusk right before twilight..." He started to explain, "...Vibrant color in the sky as the sun sets; fire red, amber, gold, purple, and orange.  Floating lanterns are let out like birds, to be carried up into the air by a soft wind, drifting so far away that they look like a path of stars.  Trees with leaves the color of the sky, swaying gently in a hilltop breeze." He revealed, the painting clear to them both on that pale wall, "That's all I got though.  That's always when I wake up."

"You don't see either of us in your dream?  Or other people, like our guests?"

"I know, it's weird...I really just see the scenery so far though.  Maybe the people will come to me later, once I’m sure the venue is ready." Yuri supposed, and took another sip, "What about you?"

"The complete opposite," Victor laughed, threading his fingers together across his stomach, "I can see us, our friends and family...Makkachin, and all the dozens of dogs we'll have over our lifetimes.  But the background and scenery never seems to be there."

"They say our dreams tell us a bit about ourselves."

Victor lifted his head back slightly, "What are you suggesting?"

"Oh, nothing terribly smart." Yuri admitted, and distracted himself with another few sips of his white mocha, "...But, since I can see the place, but not the people...it’s my constant ‘outside looking in’ mentality.  Like a birthday party I've been invited to, but for which I wrote down the wrong day.  It's out there, I know it is...but I can't get there."

"...And me?"

Yuri paused on that one and thought a bit longer than he had on his own, but then shook his head, "...A fear of settling down in one place, or a refusal to do so.  You said before that home is anywhere that we are, so maybe the ‘where’ we get married isn’t as important." He suggested, which put Victor to silence.  Yuri watched the top of the man’s head curiously, "But I guess that's a side-effect of the lifestyle you've lived for so many years.  I mean, you had a place to return to in St. Petersburg, but a lot of your time was spent on the road for competition.  There really never was one place you considered home...but maybe..."

"You’re quite right.  It's the person, not the place." The Russian answered, "I can't settle on any single place, but I see you and Makkachin as clear as day...because I'm home, wherever I am, as long as I'm with you."

Yuri smiled, "Yeah."

"I want to go back to that dream you had while I was out, though," Victor said, and lifted his eyes a bit, tilting his head back on Yuri’s tummy so he could see the man behind him, albeit upside down, "I know I can't make you stop worrying about my come-back to competition, but I can absolutely guarantee that I won't leave you behind.  Yakov may be my coach, but you're my fiancé.  If someone tries to say you can't be in the kiss-and-cry with me for some reason, it'll be a conversation that gets taken to the parking lot." He said with a laugh, "I'll endure a bout of fisty-cuffs to keep you by my side...and if there's just not enough room on the bench for all of us, then you can sit on my lap~!"

Yuri pondered that coyly, "I may have to anyway."

"Oh, now you definitely have to."

"Alright, alright...  And then you can sit on my lap when I win gold."

"Ohh~!" Victor cried out, and made himself sit up so he could see the confident smile on his beloved's face, "There it is...I haven't seen that smile since before your SP in Barcelona."

"I'll score better than in Barcelona."

"Agreed.  I can feel it." The silver nodded eagerly, "Put away the disappointment of that highway-robbery and focus on the future.  You got dis."

Yuri puffed a few anxious breaths, "I got dis."

.

The last handful of days before the Men's Short Program passed like a blur.  Opening Ceremonies came and went, and Yuri went through the slog of a few official practices.  Aside from Otabek, who had won bronze at the previous season's World Championship when Victor had won his last gold medal; JJ, who'd taken bronze somehow at the last Grand Prix, and Phichit, who had taken gold over himself at Cup of China and whom Yuri took seriously no matter what, there really weren't any serious competitors that he could identify.  There was an air of intensity and admiration as other skaters watched him practicing with Victor, and he ate it up like manna from Heaven.

"They're watching us like hawks..." He whispered between rounds.

"That’s good." The Russian quietly replied, "Use that energy to launch yourself ahead of all of them, like wind in your sails."

"Jump higher, fly farther..."

"Set the bar for what people should expect to see throughout the entire event.  The earlier you go out onto the ice, the longer your program will have an impact.  Use that to your advantage.  It’s easier on your psyche when you’re not out there last, hoping you can catch up."

Their attention was grabbed by the far-off sound of a different, albeit smaller crowd cheering, and when the duo squinted, they could make out the green blob known as JJ Leroy taking to the ice.  His fiancé had a boom-box with them, and played JJ's 'King' theme from it.  The gathering crowd around Team Nikiforov seemed to find the Leroy-crowd a bit conceited, and many of them looked across the ice, muttering to themselves about how JJ seemed to have something to compensate for if he had to make such an entrance to try and steal attention as he had.

Yuri sighed, but turned away from the other group, "...I felt bad for him when he collapsed under the pressure of the GPF, but he doesn't seem to learn..."

"He's a paper tiger." Victor explained, feeling that edge of annoyance he'd endured when he'd run into JJ previously, "All threats and ego...but when it comes down to it, he won't be able to go all the way.  The judges don't like arrogance, Yuri.  Be humble, show humility, and they'll respect you.  Whether or not the judges like you can go a long way to how highly they grade your performance."  He leaned forward against his fiancé's left shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Yuri's frame to lace his fingers together on the man's opposite hip, "Back when I was in Juniors, when we still used the 6-point system, it was a well known fact that American judges scored Russian skaters poorly, and vice versa.  Don't give them an excuse to do the same to you.  It's a handicap you don't deserve."

"Mh...I remember.  Your fame shot through the roof when you scored perfect 6s, especially at such a young age, in spite of that handicap.  It says a lot that you could pull that off, being Russian and all." Yuri agreed, and turned his head to his partner's cheek affectionately, "You can charm anyone, no matter who they are or where they come from."

"It's a skill I should impart onto you, too." The skater-coach mused.

"YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURI-KUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!" Came a sudden shrill cry, one that immediately drowned out the crowd and music on the other side of the practice rink.

Both Victor and Yuri had to check their ears afterwards, thinking they might've gone deaf from the shriek.  Yuri looked around behind them though, and spotted a particular blond-and-red hairdo that was practically, unmistakably, "Minami-kun...!"

"Yuri-kun!" The teen called again, this time at a much more acceptable volume, "I made it!"

The older duo smiled, seeing Minami and his coach there touring the grounds.  Victor waved politely as he pulled off of his fiancé's shoulder.  Yuri himself stepped forward to greet his younger counterpart with a one-armed hug, "You did!  Are you competing?  I know you've already made your Senior debut but you haven't gone to anything international yet."

"Not this time, but I wanted to come so bad...so my family footed the bill to let me come anyway." The teen explained, "My coach said it would be a good way to see how bigger competitions are held, that way it's not so crazy when I finally do get to compete myself!"

"It's good to get your feet wet before you jump in." Yuri agreed, "What do you think so far?"

"It's amazing!  There's so much more energy here than there was at Nationals!" Minami said, all but hyperventilating from his excitement, "I can't wait to see you compete tomorrow!  You'll win gold here, too, I can feel it!"

"Anything's possible." He answered casually, "There are lots of other good skaters competing for the same medal though, so don't underestimate anyone."

Victor listened quietly, smiling as he took note of how much better his partner was at talking to his fans now. 

It may just be because it's someone he sort of already knows, but this is still much better than before.

Minami huffed a laugh, and pat his idol on the shoulder, "Well, if anyone can take gold this weekend, it's you, Yuri-kun.  I don't envy anyone who has to compete here.  I'm actually kind of glad that I'm not!" He said, and looked a bit sheepish even as he grinned, "Nationals was enough for now!  I have a lot of work to do if I ever plan on being on the same level as you!  Don't stop now, though!  Keep getting better and show everyone how it's done in Japan."

Yuri nodded, more determined than ever, "I will.  I'll definitely win gold."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lots were drawn, and Yuri was grateful - finally! - to not be first.  He'd actually pulled a number quite late in the roster; third to last.  Minami congratulated him on having that much luck for once.  The rest of the afternoon was a nervous cacophony as Yuri jogged laps and did his step-sequence training on the frosty Olympic yard near the skating arena.

"You'd better eat something before it's too late, Yuri." Victor advised, "Don't want you to get sick as you take the ice."

"Yeah..." He agreed, "But just something light..."

Before he knew it though, it was time to don his 'Eros' costume once again and get ready to skate.  He slipped into that famous costume, let Victor brush and style his hair, and pulled his Team Japan track coat overtop.  Victor carried his skates as they headed over.

When he arrived, it was the first time he'd actually gotten to see Phichit in person since they'd all arrived.  Despite being in contact via phone, they were never in the same place at the same time until that moment.  'Ciao Ciao' gave Victor the usual grief about pretending to be a coach, and that it was good that he was 'going back to what he knows' for Worlds.

"I coached Yuri to silver at the GPF, so I can't be that bad as a coach..." He lamented.

"It's not that you're bad at it; you're just too young to coach other skaters, Victor." Celestino explained, "Coaching is for old farts like me and Yakov.  People who are way past their prime, and whose only purpose anymore is to help guide those going into their own."

Too young to coach.

Too young to coach.

Too young to coach.

The words echoed in Victor's mind over and over, and it brought tears to his weary eyes, "I'm too young for something!  Yuri!  Did you hear that!?"

"Hear what?" He wondered as Victor latched onto him and started gyrating against him.

"I'm too young to be a coach!  I'm not an old people yet!  Ciao Ciao said so, so it has to be true!  He's a coach; he knows things!"

"I told you that!"

Phichit could only snicker behind one hand, “Yuri, Yuri…since Celestino is Ciao Ciao…maybe you should call Victor ‘Vivi’ or something.”

Yuri tuned quickly on a heel contemplatively, “You know, I’ve wondered if I should find some nickname for him…Vivi…”

Victor overheard though and started to look rather large and ominous, “Call me that again, I dare you.” He said darkly.

The two younger skaters went wide-eyed and hugged each other for safety, “Forgive us, mighty Victor!  We’re not worthy!  We are worms!”

“Huh, what’s wrong with ‘Vivi’?” Celestino pondered to himself on the sidelines.

.

Phichit was third to go on the ice after that, and his Short Program earned a respectable 96.92, even higher than the 95.73 he'd gotten for it at the Grand Prix Final.  And just like at the GPF, his music had the audience singing along enthusiastically, even more so than when JJ took the ice four turns later.  JJ had redeemed himself though and his short program earned him 102.53, nearly 15 points higher than his bomb-out at the last competition.  Not having seen Otabek in the arena up until that point had, it seemed, stymied the terror he'd felt before.

The high scores were making Yuri nervous as he watched from back stage.  He tried to shake off his anxiety by doing short laps up and down a nearby hall.  He even put in his earplugs like Victor suggested, and tried to ignore the clamor.  After all, his own Short Program scored over 100 during the GP Series; his sub-hundred score at the Final seemed like a weird anomaly.  He could do better, and he’d been working hard to make it happen.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!" He heard Leroy yelling from the kiss-and-cry as his score was called, "IT'S...JJ STYYYYYLE!"

The crowd roared with applause.  Not even plugged ears could block that chorus of cheering.

"He's certainly risen to the challenge." Yuri said quietly, looking over to where others were watching the show on a closed circuit tv.

Victor pat him on the small of his back reassuringly, "You could beat his score just by landing the quad Flip at the end."

"I'm not going to miss this opportunity.  I'm better than I was at the Grand Prix Final."

"You are." The Russian agreed, trying to instill more confidence, "I'm certain you'll break 100 tonight.  You have everything you need.  You have the best program in the house.  You're ready for this."

It felt like an eternity, and yet also an instant, before it was Yuri's turn to skate.  He pulled the rubber guards off his silver blades and slid across the pale white ice, his name bouncing off the rafters as the announcer called him to his place.  He rounded back to where Victor stood behind the rink edge with the poodle-plush box of tissue.  Like usual, he blew his nose to free his airway and clear his senses, and leaned close for one last pep-talk.

"Skate for fun, Yuri." Victor told him, arms tight around the athlete's thin frame, "Forget the competition and cameras.  Ignore the crowd.  Skate how you want to."

Yuri listened closely, and held onto the warmth of that hug as long as he could.  When the Russian touched their noses together, the crowd cheered and whistled excitedly.  Even so, Yuri tried to maintain his focus, and opened his eyes to look into the slate orbits that were looking back at him.

"Seduce me, Yuri." Victor said longingly, "Dance like you danced with me in Sochi...no fear, no inhibitions.  Skate like you want me to come out on the ice and make love to you in front of everyone in this arena tonight."

Yuri's heart pounded at the sound of that, "I might be disappointed if you don't after all this." He said, and his eyes shone brightly.  He pulled Victor's ringed hand to his lips and kissed the gold around his finger, "Keep your eyes on me alone, Victor.  I'm about to become the embodiment of 'Eros' just for you."  Blue eyes blazed with excitement, and Victor leapt in for an adoring last kiss before he sent his beloved on his way.   

Dance like I did with him in Sochi...  Yuri thought to himself as he went back around to the center of the rink.  I feel like I can see blurs of the night from my own memory.  I need to feel it...I need to see it clearly!  I want to see with my own eyes, the look on Victor's face when he fell for me!  I want that memory back!

He clicked the front of his skate down to come to a stop, and spun around slightly to take his stance.  The look on his face had changed from nervous excitement to adamant determination.

I know it's in me...to skate like I don't have a care in the world; to be free of my worries, and dance like there's no one watching,  He thought to himself, the heat rising inside him.  I'm the only one who can make Victor feel the way he does.  I'm the one who took him off the ice in the first place, and I alone am the reason he's coming back.  Victor's fire burns with the flames of my love!  And mine burn with his!

He drew in a calm, slow, collected breath...and waited.

That passionate, spicy Spanish guitar started to play, and Yuri brought his arms up to begin the dance.  His moves were perfect.  With most of the hardest technical elements of the program packed towards the end, he focused his attention on the dynamics of his presentation.  That's what he'd been known for even before Victor came into his life...the spins and step-sequences.  His program already had two step-sequences; one more than was even actually necessary.  Adding more jumps would be meaningless thoough; there were no extra points to be gained from it.  All that was left was to make every element as challenging to perform as he could; every spin was Level 4 - a sequence that entailed four different maneuvers or positions within the same move; foot-changes, position deviations, arms or legs sticking out that would cause drag and reduce speed, and defined transitions between different kinds of spins; camel, upright, sit, and scratch.  Jumps had to be +3 GOE - one or both arms up in the air, difficult entry, both technically and choreographically, and a perfect landing.  Moves in the field had to be graceful and purposeful - in a way, it had to look like the carefully-practiced forms of a martial artist or ballerina, playing out a ballad on the ice with the precision of a Prima.

The camel spin was next on the agenda though, and Yuri hopped into it with a jump.  Level 1...  He then completed the foot change and amped up the speed.  Level 2...  Normally I'd just take off from here...  He thought, but then leaned into a layover variant, one hand pressed to the center of his chest, the other lifted up towards the rafters.  Level 3...   Arms then pressed against his sides so he wouldn't lose speed, and he stayed in that position for the full 8 next revolutions, dizzy as it made him.  Level 4...!

The first jump after that was a triple Axel from an outside spread-eagle.  Being that it was his favorite jump, and that he'd always been able to land it cleanly, even with the difficult entry, Yuri decided to up the ante a little. 

I have to try the Tano...!

The audience and announcers recognized the challenge he'd risen to.

"Outside spread-eagle...into...a triple Axel...  Oh, he's got an arm up!!  YURI!  ...Good finish!  How unexpected!  He's never done a Tano variant before!  What else does he have planned!?" Morooka asked, and sat forward on the edge of his seat on the observation deck.

Yuri twizzled out with flare, then brought his arms back out to add interest.  The flying sit-spin came and went, Level 4 like the camel, and he was officially in the second half of the program - and in the homeward stretch.  He abruptly changed directions, and headed for the center of the rink.  He could see the Exhibition Skate practice in his mind; Victor had drilled him until he was practically doing the jumps in his sleep. 

I can do this...the quad Lutz!  Just like we’re been practicing for Duetto!

The 3-turn came up, his right leg went out, and he dropped the toe-pick down hard to launch himself into the air...

Victor hugged the poodle-plush tissue box hard, eyes wide, I can't look away...!  You can do this, Yuri!

Kosshhh!  One blade alone touched the ice, and Yuri moved off expertly.

"Unbelievable!  A quadruple Lutz!  That's a new jump for him!  Will he have enough energy for the Flip at the end!?" Oda remarked.

Victor threw the Makkachin soft-toy into the air, "YOU DID IT!  YURI~!" He yelled frantically...and the plush landed right on his head.  He scrambled to get hold of it before it could fall to the ground, and hugged it tight, tears clinging to his eyelashes as he watched his beloved's program continue on.  Ever since Hot Springs on Ice, I never doubted for a second that 'Eros' was meant for Yuri all along, even if I created it for myself originally.  He's perfected it to a point where I don't think even I could do it better... He thought proudly.

The young skater pulled into his second step sequence, moving across the ice from one corner to the other, his arms and legs a-blur with precision motion.  He then peeled into a wide arc around the short end of the rink to come back around.

"He's coming up to a combination jump..." Morooka announced for the television audience, "Quadruple Loop...triple toe-loop!  He nailed it again!"

Victor's hands clenched at the tissue-box.

Phichit and Celestino were practically mesmerized where they watched Yuri's performance on the television.  JJ was watching, too, but he was reserving his judgment...he wouldn't let others see him sweat.  Even Otabek had joined the group by the television; his stoic demeanor and quiet observation set the tone for the others.  Everyone watched with baited breath, as though they thought a single peep from any of them would somehow throw Yuri off his game.

He's gotten so much better since the Final, Phichit thought, fingers pressed tightly together over his mouth, eyes wide, If he doesn't score over 100 after this, I won't have any faith in these judges at all!  Yuri's worked too hard to be snubbed like that again!  Come on, Yuri!  You're so close!

"His coach's signature move, the quadruple Flip, is coming up...  Can he make it without touching the ice again like at the Final!?" Morooka asked nervously, "You can do it, Katsuki-kun!"

Victor clasped his fingers together tightly, knuckles white where he held the Makkachin toy too tightly.

.

.

.

HE CLEARED IT!

Victor threw his arms up, then brought them down again hard into fists; he was sure to keep hold of the tissue-box that time.  Everyone in the prep area jumped and cheered loudly with the audience outside; even Otabek had to clap and smile, though admittedly less-awkwardly than he had when Victor had so-happily announced that famed engagement.

"VERY CLEAN!" Oda cheered into his mic.

The audience was out of their seats to cheer; none could bear to sit again with so much adrenaline pumping.

Yuri entered into the final few moves of the Short Program, and he felt hot and tingly all over despite the cold air on him.  He rose from his combination-spin into the last maneuver, and as the music came to its climactic end, he stopped, his final pose perfect.  As the wave of explosive cheers began, Yuri heaved exhausted breaths, and looked around at the audience until he finally spotted Victor, who - by then - was running at full speed towards the kiss-and-cry.  Yuri gave his bows to the crowd and, trembling from excitement, moved towards the rink's exit.  He found Victor there with his hands up, impatiently waving him closer, and felt those needy fingers grab him by the waist to pull him against himself.  Fingers ran through his hair as the silver legend clung to him, all but crying against his shoulder.  Yuri wrapped both his arms around the man, practically deaf from the adulation.

Mari and Minako were in tears from where they sat, holding up their [Victuri = Victory] and [Hasetsu's Hero] signs enthusiastically.  Minami cheered as well beside them, miniature Japanese flags pinned between his fingers as he jumped around emphatically, yelling his idol's name; for added fanboy-ness, he even had a tie around his head with Yuri's name on it.

Yuko, Takeshi, the girls, and the rest of Yuri's family cheered at the Yu-Topia television.

Victor finally let Yuri catch his breath, "I'd rip these clothes off of you right here and now, if I didn't think it'd make things complicated for you at Worlds."

"Victor..." He heaved, his hair a bit disheveled where the Russian had mussed it up.

They made their way breathlessly to the kiss-and-cry bench, and Victor held tight to his fiancé’s hands as he waited for the score.

"The score for Katsuki Yuri..." The announcer began with a knowing pause.

Victor held those hands tight like a vice-grip, biting his lip.

Yuri's heart pounded; he clenched his eyes shut in nervous terror.

.

.

.

.

"...115.54!!"

"KATSUKI YURI-KUN BROKE THROUGH AND SCORED OVER A HUNDRED!!"

"...115...54?" Yuri repeated, as though he hadn't heard it right.  He squinted at the score-screen  in front of him, but it still didn't seem real.  He didn't have long to look at it though; Victor literally wrapped around him and kissed him all over his face.  They both flopped off the back of the bench together, legs sticking up from behind it.

"You're unbelievable, Yuri!" The silver cried out, and kisses still coming until he planted the last and longest one on those salty lips, "You can't imagine how much I love you right now.  I could float away, I'm so happy~!"

"V-Victor..."

"I think that's the sexiest I've ever seen you," The Russian went on, looking at his beloved with sultry, half-lidded eyes, "You've absolutely blown me away."

.

No other skater that night came close to breaking that number, and none of them beyond JJ even got past 100.  When Mari and Minako finally caught up with him after the fact, they were still over the moon for his performance.

"You really knocked it out!" Minako called out excitedly, and she spun around where she stood, flapping her signs around so everyone around knew exactly who her cheers were for, "I couldn't be more proud of you!"

"You were great out there!" Mari agreed, "Bet you're exhausted now though!"

"Oh boy," Yuri said, and slouched dramatically where he stood; Victor had to help hold him up, "I'm wiped out.  I'm just not sure if it's because of how hard the program was, or because of how much I was worrying about it while I was out there!"

Dinner that night was a celebration in itself, and Victor made sure to buy the best champagne available.

Yuri eyeballed it cautiously, "Victooorrrr..." He whined, brows furrowed, "You know I don't drink during competition...!  Why do you torment me like this...?"

"Only one glass." Victor winked, and held up both of their flutes, one of which he held towards his partner, "You won't get drunk on just one...  We have to celebrate though!"

Yuri flushed nervously, and looked around the table, "...Alright...just one.  I leave it to you guys to make sure that's it though!"

"Yatta~!" Victor cheered, and nodded to the ladies to lift their glasses as well as Yuri finally took one from his fingers, "A toast then!  To Yuri's best SP ever, and to a gold medal victory tomorrow!"

Yuri dared to challenge that, "...And to a Free Skate score so high, even Victor Nikiforov can't beat it."

The Russian had to fan himself and sit back down, "Ufuu...  My heart can't take it."

Klink-klink~!

.

Both skaters were shoved into their hotel room like a pair of hay-bales, and they tumbled in rather clumsily.

"Don't come out till you're both sober!" Mari instructed them, and reached around the door-frame for the DND sign.  She quickly stuck it on the outside and let the panel close behind her, a nervous bead of sweat on her face.  She looked to Minako, "...We really messed that one up."

Minako just laughed in a drunken haze, "I don't know what you're...-hic-...talking about.  I had a great time."

Mari deadpanned the woman, "...I should've known you'd be powerless to stop the drinking." She sighed quietly, and took hold of the ballerina's jacket to guide her back to their own hotel room.

"I wonder who's in all these other rooms?" Minako laughed feebly, "We should knock on every door!"

"Oh no you don't!"

.

Needy hands had already pushed half of Yuri's suit-coat off, and he was shuffled backwards towards the foot of the bed with kisses and little nudges.  He paused only as he felt the blankets brush up against the back of his knees.  Victor pushed him down to sit, and gazed down at him past his nose with half-lidded eyes, one hidden behind silver bangs as he moved to pull his own coat and vest off.  They were thrown aside gently, and Victor moved his uncoordinated hands to his button-down shirt.  Yuri held his partner's waist, watching each garment get cast aside, then felt one knee, and another, come to rest aside his thighs.  Victor was on his lap soon after, and grinded against him with all the passion that had built up since the score was read aloud. 

The eager Russian could hardly contain himself.  He lifted back up and away, and gazed into those brown eyes.  He paused there for a moment, but then brought one hand up to cup across his fiancé’s face, one thumb lightly brushing back and forth across a flushed pink cheek, "I've never wanted someone as badly as I want you right now, Yuri..." He whispered breathlessly, and leaned down for another kiss, much to his partner's eager agreement.

Yuri traced his right hand up Victor's front, ending with a palm flat on his chest, and a ghostly-light touch at the nearest button on the man's shirt.  He looked up anxiously, and in his drunken haze, said words he probably shouldn't have, "...Take me."

Slate eyes widened, and cheeks flushed.  For a moment, Victor wasn't sure he heard correctly...and he hesitated a second, "...Are you sure?"

"I need you to..." Yuri answered immediately; he turned his face into the palm pressed against his cheek, and kissed it, "I can feel you already...  I want...all of you..."

Drunk or not, that's all Victor needed to hear, and before either of them knew it, slender fingers slid down, and a sharp rip resonated through the small room.  Yuri's button-down was shredded, a few little buttons flying away to tap against walls and carpet as they landed, and Victor eagerly started licking at that newly-exposed chest.  He pushed his beloved down to his back, and eagerly tasted every inch of hot, pale skin.  Yuri's body was more relaxed than it had ever been, and Victor could feel it; his lips kissed supple muscle, his thighs pressed down against pliable legs.  Everything was soft about his beloved except that one particular spot, and feeling it against his own center made tingles rush through the Russian's entire body.  Once he was sure he'd kissed every bit of the man's chest and tummy, he lifted up onto his knees and carefully slid one arm under his partner's back.  Legs that hung off the foot of the bed were dragged up onto it, and Victor gently lowered his fiancé back down, head set against a mound of pillows.  He was quick then to reach for the velvet satchel in the nearby nightstand, and pulled the clasp loose to dump the contents out.  He could hardly process what task to go through next; he wanted everything off and exposed and slick at the same time. 

Yuri was prone beneath him; relaxed, but extremely aroused.  Hands pawed at his chest, then moved down to unclasp the hidden button within the seam of his gunmetal-grey slacks.  The thin zipper was pulled down, and Yuri shoved the silky-smooth fabric away, letting them slide down those pale thighs.  Victor paused there to wiggle out of the remaining fabric, and went ahead in pushing his bikini-briefs away while he was there.  He wasted no time in reducing his lover to the same state; utterly naked, but for their socks, which each of them forgot for the moment.  Once all necessary clothes were gone and shoved to the floor at bedside, Victor returned to the cache of little bottles; he picked up a purple one with silver-white text.  He paid little heed to it, and just clicked the cap off, drizzling a goodly amount onto his beloved's tender-bits before he closed it again and tossed it back to the pile.  Deft hands massaged the oily fluid around, mixing it with the ample fluid his partner had already oozed out onto his tummy.  There was practically enough lube to go river-rafting in, and every press and twist made a slick, squishy noise.  That alone was enough to excite him to desperation, and Victor could hardly wait.  He had to force himself to slow down though, despite the throbbing need he felt at his core.

And there was one other thing…

In one moment, Yuri was on his back, and in the next, he found himself sitting up, with Victor in his former place, leaning up slightly as he was propped against the pillows and headboard.  Both hands slid up his thighs and stomach, up to his chest, and then wedged around his ribs to pull him inward.  As he went, finding a kiss when he arrived, super-slick fingers moved all over him again, with one slipping into the cleft behind him with urgency.  He gasped with surprise, and felt his hips buck forward, pressing his aroused flesh right up against his fiancé's.  Not knowing what to do in that moment, he stared quizzically, but the sultry-eyed look he received in turn helped remind him.  He planted his hands into the sheets aside Victor’s ribs, and moved to slide himself up, and then back, and then up again, slowly rocking his hips.  Slippery hands returned behind him, groping and squeezing at every unexplored curve.  He did his best not to pull away when he felt a finger or two brush against a spot that had only rarely been given attention to that point.

At first, just one finger deliberately massaged there; pushing down against that unexplored entrance from one direction, then moved around it in a circular pattern.  One finger then became two, and slid further down to include a patch of skin just beneath.  Pressure against it sent pulses through Yuri's thin frame, and he couldn't help but start to gasp aloud.  He almost dropped to an elbow when those two fingers slipped inside him, and he quickly pulled his arms up and in toward himself, bent elbows propped against Victor’s chest.  He quietly whimper-grunted as that new sensation overwhelmed his drunken senses.

Patiently, Victor worked the area for several minutes, until each pass made his beloved's entire body twitch with need.  Once he was sure, he pressed his hand to the younger man's side and gave a gentle nudge, guiding him to his little-spoon position.  Yuri went easily enough, and backed up against his partner’s hips.  Victor wouldn't make him wait any longer, and he held himself with guiding fingers to push the tip of his arousal to that hot-spot below the belt.  He could feel his beloved's tension as he pressed against it, then backed up, and then pushed again, this time slipping the head inside. 

He's so much more relaxed and loose this time... He thought, hazily recalling that first attempt after the Christmas market in St. Petersburg.  The heat around his member was enthralling, and he did his best to advance slowly; he moved in a little, backed out a little, then slipped a bit further in with each pass, until after a few moments, felt his hips flush against his partner's athletic bum, and that exquisitely tight, wet heat encircled nearly all of his length.

Yuri gasped aloud and whined as he felt the final push inside him.  His eyes were clenched at first, but he reached a hand up and felt his partner's cheek behind his neck, kissing his skin there.  He threaded his fingers through silver hair, and held the man there as the pressure down below started to pick up.  A few minutes of gentle moves, in and out, helped him to relax those muscles even more, and the initial ache of being stretched beyond his normal limits faded to a simple soreness, then vanished entirely.  The schlick'ing sounds from earlier returned, but this time with the added slapping sounds of his fiancé's hips smacking his skin with each thrust.

Victor was lost in the feeling rather quickly, and pressed himself hard and deep, fingers clamped around his fiancé's hip-crests to hold him still amidst the jostling.  Each whimpered grunt, every whined gasp, every single sound that his beloved made urged him on.  He regained his wits after the initial few minutes, and rolled his partner once more.  This time, he pushed Yuri onto his stomach and mounted behind him, knees parted around those strong legs, never once withdrawing.  For a moment, he thrust while perched on his hands, but then quickly lowered down and clung to his lover's back, kissing the near-side of each shoulder.  Sweat started to bead on his skin, and Yuri's grunts and moans muffled into the pillow he clutched in his arms.  A few minutes were spent in that position, the tempo of Victor's thrusts slowing and speeding-up again as he felt his beloved’s reactions to it all.  The silver could feel himself coming to his end though, and the need to release was too much to put off.  He pulled backward to sit upright, and drew his fiancé up with him.  He held him there, each of them on their knees, and pushed as deep as he could for the last few thrusts that put him over the edge, until he cried out with a quaking breath and felt that hot liquid escape him.

Yuri reached back with one hand, and held his partner's thigh as he felt the throb inside him, and for that pause, he could feel the soreness return...though his buzzed brain didn't care.  The phantom-member that he had felt in his dreams was now real, and was deeper inside him than he ever thought it could go.  It hurt, but it felt good at the same time.  It felt even better when Victor finally got his wits about him again and reached around to help finish him with his hands.  With a bit of repositioning, but without withdrawing, it didn’t take long at all to bring him to his own climax.

Trembling and heaving for breath, Yuri sat in amazement of the whole thing.  Victor nibbled at his shoulder and neck, hugging him tightly as they stayed connected for that little while longer.  Yuri suddenly started laughing though; weak at first, but then stronger, and he turned his head back to rub a cheek on silver hair, "Th-this...was a terrible idea, you know that?" He said, more a statement than an actual question.

"Why do you say that?" Victor wondered, still catching his own breath.

"I'm going to be so sore tomorrow..."

"Sorry." The silver replied, smiling though he winced at the sad reality of it.  Carefully and slowly, he slid out, hearing the soft hiss from his partner as he moved.  Once he was done though, he nudged the younger man down, and curled in behind him on the blankets, "Hopefully this doesn’t mess up your Free Skate."

"Me too, but…" Yuri reassured, "It was fun though; it felt good."

"It did...?" Victor echoed, and lifted his head to look on curiously, "You're not just saying that?"

"Well, I mean, it hurt at the start...but I think I got used to it, and then I forgot it entirely.  It's only just now coming back to me because we're done." He said, sliding a hand down his fiancé’s arm where it came around his front, "I never imagined I could feel something like that from...uhm, well, there."

Relieved, Victor heaved a breath, and hugged a little tighter against his partner’s back, "Pretty soon, it won't hurt at all.  Then we can do it multiple times a day~!"

"There won't be enough time to skate."

"Then we'll do them both at the same time.  Sexy skating!"

Yuri just shook his head and laughed, "I can only imagine..." He huffed.  He felt another fond squeeze, and he drew a contented breath, "...Uhm...thank you."

"Hm?"

"For...being patient, for my first time."

"Oh...of course.  It was my first time, too, after all."

"Pfft." Yuri couldn't help but scoff, "That's not true."

"You're my first and only male partner." The silver explained, and kissed the edge of a shoulder, "Trust me when I say it's like doing it for the first time all over again.  Pleasing a guy is different.  Everything is new."

Yuri's brow furrowed slightly in surprise, and he looked at his partner in consideration.  He finally cracked a smile though, and twisted in place to face the man, "First and only male partner...and hopefully the last partner you ever have."

"That's the plan," Victor agreed happily, speaking the words against those soft lips, "I wish I could put into words how excited and relieved I am to finally have you, after all this time.  I didn't realize what I was missing in my life until I fell for you."

"...I...think I know how you feel.  I feel the same." Yuri answered quietly, and turned slightly again in place towards the man beside him, "I love you..."

"Hmmm...I love you, too."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY

As expected, Yuri's body was sore from tip to toes, but it was a good hurt, he thought.  When he roused again and saw that it was 7:25, he thought for a moment that he'd slept over 12 hours and shot up, stiff as a board, frantic that he might've wasted the day and missed the Free Skate entirely...only to realize that the little glowing dot on the alarm clock that lit up for "pm" was off...so he'd actually only slept through the night as he'd meant to.

He fell down to his back again in the mess of tangled bed sheets, and turned his head to look over at his partner, and the satisfied look on his sleeping face.  The Russian's heavy breaths, cries, moans, every sound...they replayed in Yuri's mind again.  He supposed he should be grateful that Victor had 'trained' him properly before they'd ever left St. Petersburg.  He could only imagine how badly he'd skate the Free Program if he'd gone back onto the ice as 'hurt' as he was starting to feel; that creeping ache down below where his body had been put through something it had never experienced before.

It wasn’t as bad as I worried it would be.  Maybe it was better because I was tipsy...? Yuri considered, but then closed his eyes and relaxed into the warmth again.  I don’t have to worry about anything anymore, now that we’ve…gone all the way. 

He laid there for a little while, trying to go back to sleep and rest until the actual alarm went off.  But, he was too awake from being startled by the time, so Yuri resigned to get up.  He fumbled towards the edge of the bed, crawled out from under the blankets, and stepped into the restroom.  The hot white rush of water poured over him as he stood in the shower, and thoughts of 'YoI' started flooding through his mind.

I can make it better...I can make it harder, get more points for the jumps...  I was able to do some of my jumps yesterday with an arm up...can I do both arms like Yurio though...?

He knew the other competitors would be wracking their brains over how to improve their Free Skates just to try to catch up to him, especially JJ, Otabek, and Phichit. 

I have to stay two steps ahead of everyone, no matter what...

By 8:30am, he had dragged Victor out of bed, through the shower, and down to the hotel's restaurant area.  He nibbled on a wedge of honeydew melon as he went over his jump schedule for the 5th time.  Eyes turned up to the happy Russian sitting across from him - ankles threaded over one another under the table - and he got a flutter in his stomach.

I can do this... He thought adamantly, I've skated 'Aria' before without trouble...I have to be able to skate 'YoI' to his satisfaction...

"You're so serious." Victor teased, and lifted a piece of yolk-dipped butter-toast to his mouth, "Are you that sore?" He whispered, leaning over his plate slightly to be more-easily heard, “Focusing so hard on your notes that you don’t have to think about anything else?”

Yuri's face just went red, and he shook his head 'no' emphatically, only to pause and give a middling shrug and nod, but then shook 'no' a second time, "I mean, yes, but...I actually am thinking about my Free Skate because I want to." He explained more normally, "I don't want to lose myself over being in 1st place like I did in China.  I felt really good out there yesterday...and I feel a lot different now..." He said, and reached over the tablecloth to press his hand over his fiancé's, "Everything is different..."

Victor smiled and reached his thumb around to give a gentle stroke to the one finger he could reach, "Why is it different?  Your ‘Yuri on Ice’ program doesn’t involve any feelings of Eros."

"...No, but it’s all about where I came from and how far I’ve gone since then." He answered, "This thing we have, it’s a new frontier, and another chapter to my story.  I mean…" He paused and shook his head, sucking in a quick breath, "A year ago, I was a depressed mess, thinking I'd never skate again, much less compete against you.  My entire world’s been flipped completely upside down, and I can’t look myself in the mirror anymore thinking it’s just a fever dream.  I'm too sore for that." He laughed.

Victor chortled a laugh into his orange-juice, and tried to stymie himself before he accidentally snorted boogers into it.  He shook his head and set the cup down gingerly, "I really am sorry about that.  The Tylenol from earlier should kick in soon."

"It's fine," Yuri answered, and gave that hand he held another gentle squeeze before he pulled it back again and pointed a finger down on his move list, "I'm thinking about how to boost my chances of another good score.  I managed to hold my own with the Tano jumps yesterday...I should try again."

"Oh definitely, I agree." The Russian nodded, and finally got his sip of orange juice.  He set the cup down, lips parted to say something else, but then spotted a particular shape out the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but look up.  Phichit and Celestino arrived in the restaurant, spotting the pair in turn, and they both waved at him; when he waved back, Yuri looked up, then around, and saw the duo as well. 

"Oh!  Phichit-kun!  Celestino!" He called out, and waved for them both to approach, "You should sit with us!"

"I didn't think you'd be up this early, Yuri." Phichit commented, and set a hand on the back of an empty chair to grab it and pull it out, "But it's good to finally see you outside the skating lineup."

"Right?" Yuri laughed quietly and scratched the back of his head, "Seems like that's the only way we could find each other so far.  You guys should go grab something to eat first though; I'd feel bad if your stomachs growled while we're catching up."

"We finally meet up and you're sending us away again?" Celestino teased, "I see how it is."

"You know what I mean!" Yuri protested, and made a face at them.  They finally agreed to get their plates though and set their things down to free up their hands; Yuri turned back to his fiancé, "I can't believe it's taken this long to run into people.  Phichit-kun hasn't even had a chance to fuss at me yet for not coming to Bangkok still."

"Oh, give it time...I have a feeling it's coming." Victor mused.

Sure enough, too...as soon as Team Thailand came back, Phichit had a knowing-scolding smile, "So when are you coming to visit me, Yuri?"

He blanched, and Victor snorted another laugh, "...Mmmmaybe over the summer?" He suggested, "There's just so much going on right now.  I didn’t actually think I’d still be skating after the Final..."

Phichit just cocked an eyebrow as he took a seat, "Really?  Why not? "

"Victor only agreed to help me win at the Final, so we expected that he’d be going back home afterwards.  Without getting into the details, I’m sure you understand things have changed just a little bit." He laughed, raising a hand to pinch his fingers together to emphasize the point.

Celestino was the one laughing then, "To say the least.  I had actually hoped, Yuri, that once you were done moping, you’d call me to ask about being reinstated, and come back to Detroit for the summer training program.  In the end, the only phone call I got was from Victor, so he could scold me for picking your music before."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders up, "I couldn’t blame you after listening to that thing he got from his conservatory friend, but I’m sure outside of that, Yuri’s taste in music would’ve been just fine."

"There, you see?  He admits it.  Vindication." The elder coach nodded sagely, "It wasn't the worst decision I ever made."

Yuri deadpanned them both severely, "That ‘conservatory friend’ is named Ketty…and you two do realize that it was Ketty who composed 'YoI' after that, right?"

"Of course, of course!" They answered, each mimicking each other's gestures as they waved off the young skater's dubious accusation.

Phichit shook his head at the duo of coaches, but then turned his attention back to his friend and podium-rival, "It's going to be hard to keep up with you if you keep advancing like you have been, Yuri." He diverted, "I can hardly believe you're the same skater I trained with in Detroit.  Not even just because of the scores you get lately...but because of how miserable and distant you were when you left to go back home.  The person sitting in front of me…well, you and that other guy are like night and day."

"Yeah..." Yuri agreed, and tapped a pen on the notepad before setting it down, "I lost all hope back then.  Now...I feel like greatness is right there in front of me, and it's so close, I can touch it..."

"What kind of training does Victor give you that makes you so good in such a hurry?" The Thai skater was eager to know, "You're the first person he's ever coached, but whatever it is...it's working!"

Yuri laughed nervously, "...I don't think I'd be able to tell you all the things he does to make me better..." He clasped his hands together and wedged them between his legs anxiously, "But honestly?  The most important thing he’s taught me is how to believe in myself.  The more confident I got, the better I performed.  I can do things in competition that I used to only be able to do when I was alone.  I would never have achieved any of this without him."

"Yeah, he definitely brought you out of your shell." Phichit agreed, and set a finger down carefully on the top of a hard-boiled egg, then took a butter-knife to crack the shell, "So what are you going to do for your Free Skate, now that the bar's been set?  You broke Victor’s record last time.  There’s only so many points you even can earn for the program."

"...I want to try and do some of my jumps with both arms up."

"Oh, like the Russian Yuri!"

"Yeah...that one simple change made a huge difference for him at the Final." Yuri nodded, and adjusted his glasses slightly, "What about you?"

The Thai skater seemed a bit defeated with that question, averting his eyes a little, "At this point, unless you drop dead sometime between now and the Free Skate, there's no chance I'll win gold, no matter what I do...so changing my program won't really help."

Victor hissed across the table, "Don't be prophetic!  It doesn't work out well!"

"No chance to win gold?  Are you kidding?" Yuri was really surprised, "Look who you're talking to."

"Yeah, the Come-Back King." Phichit pointed at him, "And the one most likely to stand on the top of that podium tonight."

"Oh come on, JJ could sneak it out from under me just like Yurio did..."

"You're the one that currently holds the Free Skate record though.  JJ's score was high, but it wasn't high enough."

"And yet even Yurio crushed me in the Short Program, just like he said he would before the 'Hot-Springs on Ice' Exhibition."

"You were robbed." Phichit insisted, and pointed at his friend again for emphasis, "You and Otabek both.  And besides, the way you're skating, you may break your own record again here at Four Continents."

Yuri slouched back into his chair and crossed his arms sheepishly, "Maybe."

Phichit practically jumped out of his chair, "IF YOU DON'T WIN THE GOLD TONIGHT, I WON'T FORGIVE YOU."

Yuri balked and pushed away from the table a little.  Eyes turned nervously to his coach, but Victor just smiled in complete agreement.  Yuri had no idea what to say in response though.  The intensity of his friend's outburst had left everyone in the restaurant speechless, gawking in their direction to wonder what in the world was going on.

Phichit quickly noticed the awkward side-eyes though and sat back down, muttering an apology under his breath as he looked down at his half-eaten plate.

"...I'll...do my best..." Yuri finally said, keeping his distance.

"...It's the only way I'll be able to accept it if I can't medal, too." The younger skater explained quietly, and poked at his hard-boiled egg a bit with his fork, "I'd be okay with it too if Otabek won gold...but whatever happens, you can't let JJ get it.  He's been insufferable this weekend.  For a guy as supposedly-pious as he claims to be, he sure is prideful."

Yuri nodded subtly, "...Yeah, we saw some of that the other day."

"It's a cover," Victor interjected, "He's over-compensating for how much Otabek rattled him in Barcelona.  I'm not sure why it happened, but...there you go.  I said it."

"They trained together for a hot minute, back in the day." Phichit explained, "JJ taught Otabek how to do a quad Salchow.  ...I'll bet he's thrown-off because he thinks he's better than Otabek, yet Otabek is competing at the same level, even challenging him."

"That sounds familiar," Yuri said with a nervous smile, "...After Yurio taught me how to land a quad Salchow, I felt like he hated me.  He came all the way to Hasetsu to take Victor away, and there I was, begging him to give me the means to keep Victor for myself."

"Oh, is that what you two were up to?" Victor laughed, "I was wondering what you were muttering about when I got to the rink that one morning."

Yuri nodded, and leaned to rest the side of his jaw in the palm of his hand, "Oh, after you stayed up all night drinking?  Hah...yup, that would’ve been it."

.

Practice off-ice began again within a few hours of breakfast being over, and the pair wandered the would-be Olympic grounds, jogging along the concrete sidewalks by unfinished buildings.  As they reached a rest spot, Yuri huffed and puffed to catch his breath.  The soreness from the night before was still with him, and he groaned quietly in protest. 

Victor rubbed his partner's back and shoulders for a moment, "Need a minute?"

"I'll be alright.  Thanks though." He answered, and found a hand to hold, "I've been thinking about Yurio since bringing him up earlier...  You think we should call and check on him?"

Victor looked at the time-zone listings on his phone's World Clock, "It's barely 7am back in St. Petersburg.  Yurio probably isn't even awake yet."

"Later then..."

Victor nodded and put his phone back, then gestured to a nearby snow-covered bench, "Want to work on your Tano jumps?  There's some hours yet to practice and then recover before the Free Skate starts."

"Probably should," Yuri said, though he gave a nervous look as he answered, "...But in a minute."

The silver Russian gave a worried-but-well-meant smile, and reached his arms around to drape himself over his beloved's back, "I promise to leave your butt alone for a while," He teased, gently and slowly swaying the man back and forth where they stood by the curb, "Feel free to make the feeling mutual if you want."

"I'll take it under advisement," Yuri puffed, "For now, I just want to take a second right where I am."

"Mmh...me too."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

The Four Continents Men's Singles Free Program had arrived faster than Yuri had wished.  In true Nikiforov fashion though, he napped until it was practically his turn to go skate.  Victor gently woke him up, and they proceeded to get ready and head over to the skating arena.  Yuri felt eerily calm.  His skin felt cool despite his layers.  He thought he could see more clearly than normal, even without his glasses.  Colors seemed more expressive, even sounds were richer, tastes more vibrant. 

He looked up from where he sat in the staging area, "Am I dying...?"

Victor gawked at him, "...Are you what?"

Yuri shook his head and looked back down again, "I read once that people who are consciously aware of the moment of their own death, will experience the world around them so much more intensely than they ever did before that moment.  That ‘seeing your life before your eyes’ moment.  I kind of feel like that's happening to me right now."

"You'd better not be dying." Victor pointed at him, "You haven't even skated yet.  We haven't even skated yet!"

"I've never felt like this before." He added quietly, moving off the bench to sit on the floor and stretch.  He spread his legs far apart and moved to reach as close to the left foot as he could; his tender parts were a bit more tolerable than they had been.  Victor crouched behind him and helped push him down, just like Takeshi once did in Hasetsu, "I think I'm too calm."

"This is good!" Victor encouraged, "Go onto the ice with a clear mind."

Yuri agreed to try, finished his stretch, and got back up again.  It was about 6:23pm by then, and he decided it was time to get his skates on.  The Men's Program would begin in half an hour.  When the laces were done, and he'd pulled the bottom of his costume pants over his ankles, he paused...seeing Victor kneel in front of him unexpectedly, "Eh?"

The Russian put his arms on the bench on either side of his beloved's legs, and brought those azure eyes up to meet hazel, "If you’re not nervous, it’s probably because I am on your behalf."

Yuri tilted his head a little, but then smiled, and brought his hands together under Victor's chin to toy at the knot of his tie affectionately, "Being nervous for me so I don't have to be?  That’s sweet."

Victor nodded, and rose to stand, pulling Yuri up with him before they headed over to the viewing area.  The ice was just about ready to start Men's practice after the Ladies had gotten done with their medaling ceremony.  Soon though, the Free Skate was underway, and scores were being called out like gun-shots. 

Phichit's earned a respectable 192.45, with a final score of 289.37, similar to his GPF final score.  He was happy, but disappointed at the same time.

JJ managed 214.89 with his own Free Skate, just under-shaving Victor's old record, and brought his total to 317.42.  He was much happier with that score than he'd been with his just-barely-300 at the GPF. 

He still didn't get all six planned quads though, Victor scoffed as he watched the celebration in the kiss-and-cry.  He turned to rub his fiancé's shoulders, "Stay loose, Yuri.  You scored higher than that at the Final, and you scored some 20 points less coming out of the Short Program at the time.  You blew it out of the water yesterday.  Just do as well as you did in your previous Free Skates and you'll get gold for sure.  You don’t even have to do the Tano jumps at this point, if you want to play it safe."

When Otabek finished his program, JJ still held onto the 1st place spot, with the Kazakh skater holding firmly to second.  Leo held third for the moment, with GuangHong sitting at 6th.

Victor felt a vibration in his pocket, and pulled out his phone to see a FaceTime request from Yurio.  He tilted his head, surprised, but smiled and accepted the call, "Hey.  We were just thinking about you."

In a side-hall - out of the way and out of ear-shot of the crowd - Yuri went through the shuffle of his step-sequence.  He saw motion out the corner of his eye though and paused, spotting Victor there waving at him.  He pulled out one ear-plug, and looked down to the Russian's phone as he approached with it.  When he saw Yurio there looking back at him, Yuri got excited and quickly grabbed the device, "Yurio!  Hey!"

"Davai, Katsudon." The blonde said simply, his face as still as stone.  To Yuri's surprise though, his Russian counterpart gave a thumb's up, "Give us all the show we want to see."

"Don't look away, or you might miss something." Yuri said eagerly.

The Russian Punk turned his head slightly, but then cocked a smirk, "Crush Leroy for us; we can feel how hard he's patting himself on the back all the way here in St. Petersburg." He commanded. 

The words told Yuri all he needed to know, and he happily nodded, then gave the phone back to his fiancé.  The flutter of excitement rushed through him, and he drew in a long, contented breath, "I feel really good about this.  I'm going to do better than at the Final."

"That's a bold prediction, don't you think?" An unwanted voice asked suddenly, "Yuri?"

The smile faded from his face like milk from a broken bottle, as did Victor's - replaced by one of irritation and impatience - but Yuri turned on his blade-guards and looked the Canadian square in the eyes, "I'm going to win."

It was almost comical, but a group of sportscasters somehow overheard the exchange, and before much else could be said or done, were all gathered behind JJ, waiting for a response.  In his usual cocky manner, he brought his hands up to form his own initials with his fingers, "It's going to be a JJ Style Victory lap.  Good luck in the attempt though.  You'll have to break Victor's record a second time in a row to catch up to me.  Considering how quickly you crash and burn..."

"Okay well that's enough of that," Victor interrupted suddenly, and began walking ahead of his partner, towards JJ and the press-gaggle.  He waved his arms out after them, "Go on, shoo.  You don't get to try and sabotage my athlete with petty jabs and insults.  Only losers get gold by tearing others down before they go out there.  Maybe you should just skate better next time, if you even can."

Cameras rolled and excitement buzzed, and JJ stood defiantly.  In the most embarrassing-possible moment though, the Leroy parent-coaches both walked up at that exact moment, "Come on, JJ, Isabella is waiting for us in the stands.  You said you were just going for a bathroom break." His mother said, and started ushering him back the way he came.

Victor's steely-blue eyes watched stiffly as the Canadian was corralled and taken away again, and only heaved an annoyed, audible sigh once the teen was out of earshot, "... Vysokomernyj durak." (Arrogant idiot.) He growled under his breath.

Yuri just watched, the high of his euphoria long gone.  He felt Victor snake an arm around him though, and pulled him close, slate blue eyes staring deep into him.

"...I'm sorry you keep having to deal with him like that." The silver said quietly, "I feel like he's picking on you as a way of getting on my nerves."

"Oh, is that what it is?" Yuri asked dryly, arms going up to return the hug, "Is that what he tried to do at Rostelecom?  I didn't hear what he said at the time."

"Probably.  I don’t actually remember what he said though.  Obnoxious, isn't it?"  Victor confirmed, and reached up with his free hand to trace a line over Yuri's heart, "The 4CCs gold medal will be sitting right here in an hour.  I anxiously await the moment I can watch Leroy's face as he realizes it."

"...No pressure..." 

"He needs to be taken down a notch." Victor explained, "He doesn't know how to be humble.  On top of that, he’s senselessly boring.  Combined, he disgusts me."  He moved the free hand from Yuri's chest to his chin, and stroked his lower lip with his fingertips, "And since I can't compete here...I'm counting on you to be my proxy.  So...Yuri.  Go out there and show him what a real champion looks like.  You want to do that, don't you?"

Yuri nodded immediately, "I do."

They heard the cheers as the previous skater's show concluded, and smiled at one another.

"It's time."

.

Yuri held to Victor's shoulder as he leaned over to pull the rubber guards from his blades, and then handed them over so he could get his track coat off.  He could feel the energy in the stadium, and it filled him with excitement.

"Next to take the ice...representing Japan...Yuuuuuuri Katsukiiiii!" The announcer said overhead.

The athlete took a deep breath and stepped through the gateway, feeling his blades slide on the ice beneath him.  He followed the wall a few meters and then paused there to face his coach one last time, but found that there wasn't really a lot to say.  Victor held his hands with his own, bought them together, and kissed those fingers gently, then kissed again just on the ring.  Yuri watched happily, and looked up at his partner's face when Victor pulled away again.  Unable to help himself, Yuri propped himself up on the rink wall and kissed him lightly.  The crowd screamed with excitement over the sight, and Victor smiled through it.  After that, Yuri was off.  They both knew nothing more could be said, so neither of them said a word, and Yuri headed for the center of the rink with the roar of the audience behind him all the way.

He took his position, and took one last deep breath.  Soon, it would be over and done. 

The audience quieted, and the sound of a piano rose into the air

Yuri stepped; the soft scratch of blades whispered beneath him as he started to move.

On the ice, he felt like he was home.

"Katsuki Yuri is opening his program with two consecutive quads again...the first one is coming up...a combination.  Quadruple Toe-loop...dou-...no, triple Toe-loop!?  He just quad-tripled that!"  Newscaster Morooka announced, surprised. 

Not that Yuri could hear what was being said while he was skating, but he could feel the excitement.  He had already increased the difficulty of his program and he'd barely even started.

"Quadruple Salchow!  Beautiful!  Followed by a triple Flip!  AND HE HAD BOTH OF HIS HANDS IN THE AIR!"

Yuri felt a wobble as he landed, but recovered from it without anyone noticing, and skated on. 

The calmest part of his Free Skate came up.  He slid forward on the ice for what seemed like forever, twisting only when it was time to complete the wide outside spread-eagle, following into a flawless Ina Bauer. 

Victor had one hand over his mouth the whole time.  The whole display was like déjà vu.  Yuri is going to put it all out there and go for the highest possible score with his current skill, and as it stands...it's even more difficult than my last Free Skate...  Yuri, be careful…

Yuri rounded back, and threw himself into the air, one arm over his head as he completed the triple Axel.  The crowd screamed its approval.  They were even louder when he finished the quadruple Toe-loop after that.  He didn't dare raise an arm for that one though.

.

"I think the triple is all I'll manage this time." Yuri said, breathlessly slouching on the back of the bench.

Victor tapped his boots against the support-post, knocking some snow off, "Even a single with an arm in the air gets a higher score than one without.  But are you sure you want to do this?  You don't need all this extra stuff to win.  I rarely resorted to Tano jumps myself."

"It's not just about winning anymore..." Yuri answered, and stretched his arms before rubbing one shoulder, "It's about seeing how far I can push myself while I still have this chance."  He looked at Victor and put his hands over the man's hips, "I may never score this high again.  Either because of nerves when you start competing again, or because I myself will start to wear down...this is it.  I have to put it all on the line."

.

"Triple Lutz...triple Toe-loop...!  Very clean!" Morooka and Oda continued.

.

"I don't want you to think don’t have a chance to win just because I'm on the roster alongside you." Victor scolded, resting his arms over Yuri's shoulders in turn, "You've more than proven that you're my equal.  If you push yourself too hard now though, you may end up sabotaging your future ability."

"I'll never be your equal, Victor…but, thanks for saying so anyway." Yuri insisted, and he offered a smile despite the rejection, "You've been my hero for more than half my life.  I'll always look up to you.  So...don't ever stop trying to surprise me, okay?"

.

"Here comes the fourth and last quad...the Flip!  Victor Nikiforov's signature move is quickly becoming one of Skater Yuri's trump-cards!  Can he do it…!?”

Excitement rang high as Yuri entered the final Loop before leaping into the Flip.

Shards of ice flew off his blades, and the world spun around him.  He felt like he was suspended in the air for an age before the ground come back up at him, landing on the opposite foot from the one he jumped off from.  The wind blew by as he moved backwards, away from the final vault of his Free Skate.

“HE DID IT!  THAT’S MASTER-CLASS SKATING, RIGHT HERE AT THE FOUR CONTINENTS COMPETITION!”

Yuri finished his combination spin, slowed, stopped, set a toe-pick to the ice...and raised his hand up towards his fiancé.

He and Victor smiled at each other; Victor himself was practically in tears over it all.

It was over.

Yuri raised both his arms to the audience and bowed, clasping his hands together in gratitude before he finally pushed off with his toe to head for the rink exit.  Victor held a hand out for him to step off the ice with, holding the blade guards in the other.

Yurio watched the event intently from his grandfather's house, his fluffy cat snoozing next to him.  The teen nodded in approval, “That’s more like it.”

Yuri felt as calm at that moment - now in the kiss-and-cry - as he had when he'd been waiting in the staging area.  He couldn't understand how it was possible.  Sitting in the hot-seat had always been so terrifying before, yet now...  He let himself slouch against his coach's left arm, holding it to his chest where the Russian had a hand cupping his leg.  Victor was, of course, confident and beaming at his pupil, and moved his free hand to push a strand of hair from Yuri's eyes as they both heard the voice on the overhead speaker echo through the stadium.

"The score for Yuri Katsuki..."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Yuri could feel his heart suddenly pounding in chest, as hard as he'd ever felt it. It was like it was smacking against the inside of his rib-cage. The audience's roars and cheers, all the way in the kiss-and-cry, had made Yuri feel like he'd gone deaf, too. He could see – more or less, anyway – that they were still applauding in the stands, but their chorus had morphed into a kind of far-off tide, crashing against the shores of the rink-wall ahead of him.

He eyeballed the score-screen ahead, but without his glasses, it was a slight blur, made worse by the glowing light reflecting off the ice behind it. Hands clutched a bit tighter to Victor’s arm where he held it, hand practically pinned between his legs, and he leaned forward slightly, squinting. It seemed like everything reduced to slow motion.

It's taking forever to get my score called! Didn't they already announce it?

Victor's thumb rubbed soothingly, and then the tide changed to a thunderous wave all at once.

"The score for Yuri Katsuki...is 219.24! He is currently in first place."

Yuri felt his voice catch in his throat; he wanted to scream, but all he could do was sit there with his mouth hanging open.  He felt the hand pull out from between his thighs and slip loose from his grip, and soon after, two arms wrapped around his tense, slender frame. Wide eyes turned over a shoulder to look at the coach sitting beside him.

"Yuri, you did it!"

"...I...I did it." He echoed, still in disbelief. There was almost an odd moment of silence between them...but when the shock of it all finally hit him, Yuri's face lit up, "I DID IT!  Oh my god." He started, unsure whether to return the hug or jump out of his skin.

"There's only two skaters left before the end of the event." Victor went on, "Odds are pretty good you're secured your victory here.  There are no Yuri Plisetskys going after you."

"I...this is incredible." Yuri stammered, and reached up with one hand to wipe his eyes on the heel of his wrist.  No matter how shocked he was, he couldn't help but laugh when he felt his fiancé start to shake him excitedly in their continued embrace. Both of his arms came up then and he finally returned the hug, sliding them over the Russian's shoulders before burying his face against the man's neck, laughing and crying all at once with him.

There was no way they could leave rink-side while they waited for the end; post-skate interviews would have to wait until after the medaling ceremony. With only two athletes left, Yuri kept his eyes on the ice. Too anxious to sit either, he stood with Victor on the railing at the front of the participants' viewing area. His whole body trembled and shivered. Those last two skaters' Free Programs seemed to take an eternity.

The first of the two was a Hispanic skater - from Mexico; a rare breed - who looked relatively new to the Seniors lineup. His program ended after 49 years in Yuri's mind, and left the kiss-and-cry with a respectable FS score of 165.24, putting him in 14th place out of the 25-ish skaters who had advanced to the second Men's Singles event. The second - and final- skater, put everything he had on the line. Canadian - but not JJ, at least - the athlete pushed the limits of his skill and rose from the kiss-and-cry with a secure hold on 12th place after a performance that lasted another 37 years.

"It's done, Yuri," Victor commented, arm wrapped around his beloved's back, "You're officially the Four Contin-....what in the world!?" He eep'd and backed up a bit in a comical panic, seeing an old man there where his fiancé had once stood.

"It's...it's been 86 years..." Yuri spoke, his voice whisper-soft and slightly strained in his toothless mouth.  He raised an atrophied and age-marked hand up to Victor's confused face, "But I finally...  I finally won gold for you..."

The crash of a nearby skater-stampede distracted the perplexed Russian from the sight, but when he closed his eyes and shook his head, Yuri was himself again, and the gaggle of his friends were rushing up the stairs from the rink-side walk-way. 

Yuri barely had a second to think about it before Phichit collided with his shaking body, just as the rest of the Selfie Squad emerged at the bottom of the same nearby stairs; Leo and GuangHong, each clapping their congratulations. Phichit couldn't resist whipping his phone out, and quickly took half a hundred pictures, though eventually Victor had to take the younger man's phone so he could usher the gold medalist down to the ice for his victory lap.  The Russian laughed and handed it back though as they got to the rink-wall entrance, "There'll be plenty of time to take photos once Yuri has his medal," He said, though then conspicuously leaned in and whispered to Phichit behind his hand, "DM me a link to these before you post everything."

Phichit just puffed a laugh and nodded sagely, "Of course." He mused, then stepped back and took a few candid shots just of the duo waiting, just to capture anticipatory mood of the moment.  Were he not a skater, he could’ve easily been a journalist.  Or at least a photographer for one.

Another 724 years passed for Yuri before the red velvet carpet was rolled out and smoothed on the ice, and the podium was placed beside it. ISU officials started shuffling out into the rink, flanked soon after by the presenters who carried the awards themselves. When the centuries had finally come to their ends though, and the announcements began, Yuri felt all those years returned to him, and the nervous flutter came with them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the judges of the International Skating Union are proud to present the following Men's Singles athletes with their medals for this year's Four Continents Competition..." The voice boomed overhead.

Peppy victory-music started to play in the bright arena, and blue and white lights drifted down, moving like glowing fog across the ice. A group of 6 warmly-dressed assistants lined up on the edges of the carpet, holding crystal-quartz trays in their hands. The three in front carried the trays supporting a skating medal, while the other three carried handsomely wrapped bouquets of flowers. The lanyards swayed back and forth as the women stepped forward together, until they finally arrived at the center, where the announcing judge stood waiting with the microphone. They passed in front of the triple-tier podium, with the medal-carriers stopping at the far end, pausing where they lined up behind one another, then turned about-face together and looked out at the bulk of the skating rink and audience.

"The winner of the Gold medal...with a final score of 334.78..."

Yuri shook his head and stood taller, and looked to his fiancé, "Time to go." He said happily.

"...Representing Japan...YURI KATSUKI!"

"Don't collapse now that you're done," Victor teased, and offered a quick peck before his beloved moved away.

A calm settled over Yuri as the lights above shone down, basking him in the glory of his first real championship victory.  Slowly, he stepped onto the ice, and skated to the center of the rink to the sound of a deafening applause. He spun to a stop just near the podium, and did a mini inside-spread-eagle for the fun of it, then raised one arm towards the crowd in front of him, bowed to them, and did so again to each of the other cardinal ends of the arena. He could hear the piano of 'Yuri on Ice' theme playing above him, and tears started to form in his eyes. He refused to let them fall so soon though, and moved the last few paces over to the podium; he looked at the ladies on either side of it, and then...one skate at a time, stepped onto the central platform. The highest of the three. The pinnacle.

His music kept playing, and the audience continued to cheer, clapping and crying as many of them were. Yuri clasped his hands together gratefully.

...Victor... I would never have come this far without you.

"...Coming in second place, and winning the Silver medal...with a final score of 317.42...representing Canada, Jean-Jacques Leroy!"

'Partizan Hope' started to play overhead, and Yuri watched as the man stepped onto the ice, stiff with annoyance, but trying not to show it. The audience was screaming his name, and eventually, after acknowledgments were made, JJ skated his way over, and gingerly stepped onto the 2nd place podium. He refused to look Yuri's way though, worried it might ruin the moment.

"And finally, coming in third place, and winning the Bronze medal...with a final score of 303.29...representing Kazakhstan, Otabek Altin!"

'Symphony No. 9, 2nd Movement "Advent"' played just like the previous two skaters' Free Skate themes did, and Otabek came out onto the ice to give his thanks as well, taking his place on the bronze podium...just as he had several times before. Yuri could only wonder if the constant bronze was starting to burn the man.

With all three skaters on their marks, the music changed again to a more uplifting tune, and the head judge walked onto the carpet to address the winners. One of the medal-carrying ladies from before came around, with the gold, and the judge took it from her tray kindly. She turned to look up at Yuri, smiled, and beckoned him to bow down his head. Over his head and around his neck she placed the lanyard, and she took Yuri's hand to shake it briskly. Her voice of congratulations was nearly drowned out by the music and cheering. To his surprise, she then moved to put her hands on the sides of his face, and kissed each cheek, patting his right shoulder proudly before letting him back up again to take in the weight of the moment. He almost didn't notice as she moved on to reward JJ and Otabek with their own medals.

A man came out onto the ice after that, stepping earnestly over the carpet, carrying authority on his shoulders; he was another high level representative of the ISU. Just like the previous judge, this man came up to each of them and shook their hands in congratulations, and offered them the items on the crystal trays from the second group of young ladies. A richly fragrant bouquet of flowers, and to Yuri's amusement, a plush toy featuring the Four Continents mascot. He accepted them happily, memorized the scent of the flowers as he stood back upright again, and bowed his head in gratitude.

Several more ISU officials came out to shake all their hands. The announcer overhead had said their names, but Yuri couldn't understand it all anymore. He was too overwhelmed. It wasn't long before he saw the Japanese, Canadian, and Kazakhstani flags being raised on the other side of the rink though.

"Ladies and Gentlemen...please rise...for the national anthem of this year's champion..."

It was his own. It was the Japanese anthem.

For the next several minutes, the audience paid him tribute in quiet reverence, and Yuri found himself mouthing the lyrics to the song, even though it was just the instrumental version that played.

Once it was done, the judges and officials then stepped in front of the podium, and photos were taken of the whole group. Soon after, Yuri found Otabek and JJ both joining him on the 1st place platform to take closer shots without the judges. Yuri nervously realized the other two were holding up their medals for the picture, and he went to reach for his own, finally getting his first real look at the gold hanging around his neck, "I won the gold medal, Victor..." He said quietly to himself, and the tears finally started to drip from his eyes.

It was only when he was finally allowed down from the podium, made his way around the rink for his victory lap, and finally returned to the open, waiting arms of his coach, choreographer, partner, idol, hero, and soon-to-be husband, that he finally and completely broke down. He held his gold medal in the palms of both hands, and bowed as he presented it forward, as though it was the most precious gift he ever had or could offer.

The Russian smiled proudly, took both of Yuri's hands - and the medal they held - into his own, and leaned over to kiss it. He then stood back up to his normal height, pulled his beloved close to kiss his forehead, then those quivering lips, and swayed the overwhelmed medalist back and forth in a tight hug like only he could.

Yuri buried his face in the man's suit coat and sobbed, clinging to him desperately, "We did it...Victor, we did it...!"

.

The post-skate/ceremony interview was a rush of questions and congratulations, but Yuri still felt the effects of his pumping adrenaline and could hardly focus on it.  Everything moved so fast now that the competition was over and he wasn't so worried anymore.  The walk back to the hotel was the first moment of normal-paced time that he was aware of; he flexed his fingers slightly where he felt them threaded and warm in his partner's thick coat-pocket, "...This is all so surreal." He commented, and drew closer to that nearest shoulder, "I really had high hopes that I'd win, but actually achieving it...?  Still seems impossible, even though I've already done it."

"Honestly, I hope you never get used to it like I have," Victor added, and rubbed his thumb across those warm fingers, "I hope it magical and amazing for you every time it happens."

"It's just such a completely different experience, you know?" Yuri said, and looked up at the man; the night was pitch black but for the street lamps and buildings, and the air was still, making it easy for the pair to see the fog of their breath with each exhale.  There were a few others walking the same path back, but everyone kept their comfortable distances, happily walking in their own bubbles, "All these years, I've done okay but was never seen as a podium challenger.  Not outside of All Japan anyway.  Back in the day-"

"That was last year."

"No no I mean before that," Yuri puffed and made a face, "When I wasn't an emotional wreck."

"Alright?"

"Back in the day," He repeated, and cleared his throat, "There was a whole group of us that were all seen as pretty decent.  None of us were great by any means; we weren't Japanese versions of you by any stretch.  Scoring in the 250s total was pretty grand by our averages, so my 230 in Sochi wasn't horrible...it just looked that way compared to scores like yours and Chris’."

"What happened to all the other skaters?" Victor wondered, "You speak of them like you're the only one left."

"...Er...well, I kind of am?" Yuri answered pensively, "I mean, I wasn't super-social with anyone to begin with, and even less-so after moving to Detroit.  But it just seemed like the gang just kind of disappeared, one by one, until I was the only one still competing.  I guess that's why it felt so easy to just vanish after my collapse at Nationals last year; everyone else was gone, so who would miss me?"

"Here I thought that Japan treasured its rare birds," The silver shrugged and smiled, "Maybe it was just the timing.  No one expected you at Worlds, and I came to Hasetsu so soon after that the JSF didn't really have time to check-in on you."

"...Maybe.  I hadn't exactly said that I was retiring yet though so maybe they didn't even realize I needed to be checked-in-on."

"Ah, well, in that case...Thank you Victor for looking after our Yuri so he can keep competing~!" The Russian laughed, and nudged his partner with an elbow, "We, the JSF, are suuuuper grateful you've helped him see his true potential and be the skater we all knew he could be~!"

Yuri shook his head despite laughing, too, but then paused and nudged his fiancé to stop as well, "No, it would go something more like this..." He explained, and pushed off the man's chest to back up a few steps in front of him, then abruptly went stiff with arms at his sides and a strange look on his face, "Nikiforov Victor-sama!  Katsuki Yuri o tasukete kurete arigatou gozaimasu!" He started rather dramatically, trying to be serious, then bowed rather low, his head nearly below hip-level, "Watashitachi no kashitsu o yurushite kudasai!"

Victor stared and blinked in surprise, but his eyes nearly crossed for lack of knowing how to answer, so he said the only thing he could, "Youkoso gozaimasu~!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Yuri puffed, and lifted just his head, staying in the bowed position as he looked up, "All you said was 'welcome very much!'"

"...Oh, how do I add 'you're' in there then?"

Yuri deadpanned him, "Y...You don't.  It doesn't work like that.  'You're welcome' is a whole different word.  You said ‘welcome’ like the greeting you get at a grocery store."

"So..."

He lowered his head again - this time with his arms hanging loose under himself - and a few strands of hair came loose from where they'd been gelled in place, "Douitashimashite."

Victor laughed and closed the gap between them again, and used the gentle nudge of a few fingers under his partner's down-turned shoulders to push him vertical again, then stepped right up against his chest.  Arms went up to rest over those same shoulders, and the silver tilted his head as he neared, "Douitashimashite, Katsuki Yuri-sama." He whispered seductively, and pressed in for a long kiss.

When those warm lips finally left him, Yuri could only smile anxiously, "You shouldn't use that honorific so recklessly.  I might get a big head."

"And yet, it's absolutely the truth," Victor answered, and twisted off again to start them walking back to the hotel once more.  One hand went between them to find another to hold, and brought it back to his pocket like before, "Pretty soon it'll evolve into Nikiforov Yuri-sama, too."

"Yeah but -sama implies that I'm your lord or boss or customer...or something."

Victor paused and gasped dramatically, "You're saying you aren't!?"

"Unfortunately," Yuri gave a long, whimsical sigh, "I am not.  Even though you said I'd have to pay you one day for coaching me..."

"You're paying me already with all these gold medals you're winning." The silver teased, and leaned in a bit closer, "So even though you utterly reject how important your Nationals win was, I consider it something like a down-payment.  Today you made your first real payment towards my gold-lust."

"Oh, so I only owe you like 300 more, right?" Yuri sighed, "I really will be 90 before I've paid you back."

"Nope.  Only 30, at most." Victor mused, "Start your winning streak this season and you'll be finished by 29."

"That's a relief," Yuri answered sarcastically, one brow cocked up a bit, "I win gold all the time, so it should be easy."

Victor smiled wide, and raised a lazy hand towards the other coaches and competitors who were waiting on the curb for the next shuttle to take them back, "Exactly~!"

.

The water was already running when Yuri started to peel out of his track-suit and skating ensemble.  His hair felt crunchy and disheveled, but what really started to get his attention was the burning soreness in his legs.  After yanking one pant-leg off at a time, he sat back against the edge of their tall bed and rubbed his heel a bit.  He glanced up when he saw Victor step out of their bathroom, but then glanced down again, "Stamina or no, my legs are still starting to kill me."

The Russian teased a smirk as he stepped aside to put his jacket away, "Stamina says nothing about whether it'll hurt later." He explained simply, and looked down to the buttons of his coaching costume; fingers deftly started slipping buttons out of their holes, "But speaking of pains...how's that other one faring?" He asked warily, "You're getting around like it doesn't bother you, but...maybe you're just putting on a brave face for my sake."

"I feel like I got kicked in the arse, yeah." Yuri said dryly, then fell back onto the bed and laughed anyway, "But it usually comes in…pulses?  How do you describe it…  It doesn’t hurt for a while and then it does, like a ripple after the splash." He explained, looking up at the ceiling.

“A splash indeed,” Victor sputtered; he pulled his tie loose as Yuri spoke, then pulled the bottom of his button-down shirt from his slacks to continue undressing, “Just as long as you don’t regret it.  You wanted to do it last time you got sauced, too, but then bailed at the last second.  I thought I'd be teasing you out of your shell for months...but it only took a few weeks."

Yuri lifted his head up off the comforter, "...You think I'm taking to this too fast?"

"I just want to be sure you're not doing any of it because you think I expect you to.  You should want this for your own reasons, at your own pace." Victor answered, peeling the silk vest off his shoulders, then the button-down shirt underneath it, "You're okay with it all, right?  ...I can back off if it's too much at once.  It’s okay to want to slow down again after the fact."

Yuri let his crunchy-haired head drop back down to the blankets, and he closed his eyes for a moment.  He then shook his head once and pushed to sit against the edge of the bed again, toes barely able to reach the floor, "I'm...not sure why we took so long to get together, considering how we were most of the summer alone, but I’m not bothered by how supposedly-fast we're going."

Pausing mid-fold, Victor looked up from the corner he'd chosen to put his clothes on, and looked over at the younger man beside him, "...Do you have any bothers?"

Yuri was the one who paused then, and his eyes diverted, looking down to the Russian's hands.  He closed his eyes again, and reached up to place a knuckle against his lip in contemplation, "No, I don’t think so…  At least, nothing I can think of.  I still get really nervous when we do stuff, but that’s just because it’s all still really new to me.  I still really enjoy myself though.  Maybe I could learn to do stuff for you instead?"

Victor paused for a moment in thought, bare-chested as he was where he stood.  He then stepped over and leaned down, hands on his beloved's shoulders, "That time we came back from the St. Petersburg Christmas Market, and you asked me to be your coach in love...  I want to be that for you.  Forget whatever you’ve learned or heard about along the way, and let’s just live and love in our own way.”

Yuri blinked, but then smiled and nodded, "To be blank slates for one another, starting from scratch."

"That’s right." Victor answered, and offered his hands, which Yuri took into his own, "I haven't had any kind of meaningful connection with anyone in years anyway.  Being with you, here and now, in whatever form that takes, makes me very happy.  Even if you take a while to learn what you like, I don't want you to ever think that I'm not getting what I need from you.  If you're happy, I'm getting everything I could ever ask for.  There’s more to all this than just what we do in bed, after all."

"...I see..." Yuri answered contemplatively.  He leaned forward to set his feet on the ground, and allowed his fiancé to pull him up to eye-level, "Then we're doing pretty well, I think, right?  I'm the happiest I've ever been, too." He explained, "...The only thing that could make me happier is a soak and a good, long cuddle."

"Mmh...  I think I can help you with those.  Come." The silver beckoned, taking half a step backward, and nudged his head towards the steam coming through the bathroom door, "I'm sure the water's plenty warm by now."

.

The dim lights of the arena were lowered to nearly black; the Four Continents Exhibition Gala was underway.

Yuri, bedecked in the blue variant of the ‘Aria’ costume, stepped onto the barely-visible barrier between concrete and ice.  His toe-picks could taste the frost, but he waited in place for the spotlight.  The crystals on his lapels glimmered in the dark, reflecting the glow bouncing off the ice even in the dark by rink-side.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," The overhead announcer called, and the audience quieted down a bit, "Your Four Continents Men's Singles Gold Medalist...representing Japan...Yuri Katsuki."

Spotlights shone down on the aforementioned skater from high above, illuminating him as he stood alone on the edge of the ice.  With one step, he glided forward, the tails of his sheer blue jacket flowing behind him like an ethereal cape.  The audience clearly recognized the outfit, and their cheers changed to raucous celebration.  Yuri had no doubt that a good chunk of the crowd was aware of that ages-old viral video, and the incredible story that followed.  For that, he knew, this performance would be something out of this world.

Morooka's voice came up for the television audience, "Skater Yuri's Exhibition is the Free Skate of his coach, Victor Nikiforov, from last season.  He’s calling this one ‘Duetto,’ though…I wonder what that means?"

Yuri paused in center, finished his waves to the unseen crowd, and bowed his head with a knowing smile.  One toe-pick went to the ice behind the other, and he waited.  The music then began - soft piano keys instead of the expected intro - and Yuri began as well.

Sento una voce che piange lontano 

Victor approached the rink-wall with the classic thunk'ing sound of skate-guards on concrete.  Other participants were surprised to see him there, thinking he'd be on the other side of the arena with some of the other coaches.  They were even more surprised when they realized he had his skates on, but not only that; it seemed like there was something shining through the small gap in the front of the long-coat hanging off his shoulders.

JJ stood nearby as well, looking at the man awkwardly as Yuri's performance went on. 

Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato? 

The chaffed Canadian ignored the cheers of the crowd as the gold medalist landed the first quad of the program, more attention paid to the confusing spectacle still residing in the dark at rink-side.  JJ realized, under Victor's coat, a particular magenta jacket was the source of the shimmer; rather, the silver cords that hung across the abdomen. 

What in the world is he planning?  He's acting like he thinks he can just walk into any rink he likes...! JJ thought nervously, Does the ISU know about this?

Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino 

It seemed like Victor heard him though, and he turned his head, and gave the Canadian something of a daring smirk.

E inizio a prepararmi 

"...You...can't be serious...  You weren't even in practice this morning; you're going to mess him up."

"Worry more about yourself, Leroy." Victor said simply, then pulled off the coat to casually set it over a chair behind the rink wall.

Adesso fa’ silenzio 

Yuri finished the final jump before the cue, and as the audience clapped for the success of the maneuver, Yuri pause, and held his hand out.  Victor slid into view, taking that hand, and the lights flashed onto them both. 

The stadium completely lost its shit.

Stroking Yuri’s cheek gently as they united, the two began their Exhibition skate.

Together.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The crowd was still screaming in disbelief.  The SkateHusbands spun around each other quickly; Yuri gently stroked his idol's face, and Victor reached out to hold his beloved's waist.  They quickly broke off with their hands held together between them to continue the program, skating backwards as the cheers carried them onward.

Yuri spun around to let Victor's hands latch to his waist from behind, and as the song's next verse was heard overhead, the Russian lifted him into the air.

Stammi vicino...

A woman's voice joined the song, creating a perfect harmony with the original vocalist.

As Yuri's skates lowered back towards the ice, Victor helped turn him around to land backwards.  Victor's right hand went under his partner's back as his left held to the man's shoulder.  They spun around one another freely and with grace.

Fully upright again, Yuri could feel his fiancé's fingers touch lightly under his chin, and he returned the gesture, deftly placing his left hand on the man's cheek. 

Non te ne andare

Victor leaned into it, closing his eyes briefly to savor the moment of that touch with all the lights and cameras on them together.  They moved around one another expertly, and Yuri again leaned his back to Victor's chest, feeling the man's hands around his waist.

Ho paura di perderti

He felt himself be lifted off the ground a second time, this time spun around twice before coming back down again.  They quickly unraveled from the maneuver, and parted from one another, skating in a wide arc with their right legs straight out behind them, left hands reaching out ahead.  As the arc waned, they brought their free legs down again, almost dragging their hands down the front of their necks and chests before reaching both hands up desperately towards the heavens, and flipped back around with a single reverse jump. 

They came back around, this time with Victor's back to Yuri's chest.  He dipped a bit in front of him, feeling the man's hands along his forearms, turning his head to only-just-nearly kiss him right there before pulling away again.

(Male) Le tue mani,
(Female) Le tue gambe,

They took each others' right hand and skated away facing each other, twisting around each other until Yuri was behind again.

(Male) Le mie mani,
(Female) Le mie gambe,

They kicked out one leg each, skates scratching along the ice with intricate, delicate footwork, rotating around one another so closely that the audience thought they'd tangle on one another; it made their hearts race.

E i battiti del cuore,
Si fondono tra loro

They had skated apart, out into arcs at opposite ends of the rink, each completing a triple Toe-loop, triple Lutz combination before quick-stepping their way back towards the middle.  As they spun their way around one another, they entered into a wide outside-spread eagle, swirled, spun back towards their opposite corners, and then headed back to the center again.  Gaining speed, they flung themselves into the air, beautifully passing one another with a quadruple Salchow before they landed again to skate backwards and away from one another, arms extended in longing as they parted.

As they banked, they slowed down into a combination spin.  When they rose up after, they reached out again, skating in wide circles around one another; they vaulted into a triple Axel, single Toe-loop, triple Flip jump sequence before they glided out again.

In a risky maneuver, they skated blindly backwards towards the center of the arena, spinning around to pass only a second before they might've collided.  A quick burst of energy brought them back around to the sides of the arena, and their paths converged again.  Yuri took Victor's hand, and was spun closer to him for a moment before they started to drift again.  But this time, they didn't let go...their eyes locked, and Victor slowed them down.  Yuri's skates went out ahead of him as his body started to tilt backward, and Victor started to lower himself into a wide circle.  Yuri felt himself leaning so far down that he could feel his hair skimming the surface of the ice.

They spun three times before Victor pulled him back up to his feet again. 

Partiamo insieme

They held to each other's hands for a few simple kicks and twists, until Yuri pulled Victor closer and lowered him in turn.  The Russian balanced on one skate, the other propped up on top, as Yuri leaned over him until he was nearly horizontal, holding the man up with one arm under his back, the other arm displayed out behind him.  He lowered his face enough that he could practically touch his nose to the open part of Victor's shirt.  Yuri held there for a moment, then lifted his partner back up again, and they spun away from one another to once again return to opposite ends of the rink.

Ora sono pronto

The music was coming to its end, and so too was their Exhibition skate.  They pushed off from their corners to slide slowly forward, nudging their advance with the toe of their rear boot.  When they were finally within reach of each other, they held out their left hands to lace their fingers together, and slowly circled their way closer together.  When they finally stopped, and the music was over, they faced one another, their eyes lowered, left hands grasped tightly, right hands up by the other's face, but not quite touching.

For a moment, all they could hear was the heaving of their own breaths.

That's when the pair noted the low rumblings of a chant.

...Victuri...

...Victuri...

...Victuri...

...VICTURI...

...VICTURI...

...VICTURI...

...VICTURI...!!

The roar of the stadium's chant was enough to make the very ice vibrate with energy.

When the duo finally broke out of the stance to acknowledge their fans, they kept hold of each other's hands between them.  At least, until Victor spun Yuri around to pin his back against his partner's chest, leaning over from behind Yuri's shoulder to nuzzle his cheek.  They looked ahead together into the pitch darkness, the black velvet sea coming to life with the flash of a thousand shimmering stars.

"This is even better than winning the gold." Yuri said, still catching his breath.  He turned his head to the right so he could see Victor there, "You made one of my craziest wishes come true.  You don't know how much this means to me...!"

"The feeling is mutual." Victor pointed out, smiling brightly.

Yuri started to tear up again, and Victor did his best to corral his young fiancé towards the exit; despite their euphoria, their performance was done and the show had to go on.  The audience was entertained by it though, seeing Victor skating off with Yuri clinging to his chest.  The crowd cheered for them with one last big wave of applause before they slipped out of the light, and through the curtain to the rink-side staging area.

Phichit and Celestino were there waiting, clapping enthusiastically for the pair, and handed them their blade guards as they came through.  Victor dipped back out to quickly grab his coat before he could forget, fitted his blade-guards, and slung his arm over Yuri's shoulder as he met the growing crowd of skaters.

Congratulations, applause, fanfare, gratitude, jealousy, envy...all of it was there, like a soup bubbling over.  Even a swarm of sports reporters was there to greet them with eager questions.  A few were particularly excited about the prospect of new Pair skates. 

"This could be a whole new artistic approach!" One called, "No one's ever really seen a Pair skate between two men before...at least, nothing like that!  Please tell us you'll do more!?"

"This was just the tip of the iceberg." Victor happily explained, "Though we may compete as individuals, after the great reaction we got from the crowd - and now you as well - I imagine that we'll have a lot of Pair programs for Galas in the future."

"Do you already have your Worlds program put together, Victor!?"

"I've had my programs ready since before I became Yuri's coach.  I'm just a little sad that I'll only get to use them in one competition before the season's over!" He shrugged casually at the group, looking a little despondent, "But...while I am excited about coming back to competition...this is supposed to be Yuri's celebration.  He's our Men's gold medalist this weekend!  Let's hear it for my fiancé!"

The crowd cheered excitedly again, and Yuri's face went bright red as they - friends, coaches, reporters - all clapped for him.  Victor pulled off his back to join the clamor, and stood dutifully by as the real questions started coming.  The interview lasted straight through the silver medalist Exhibitions, with each group coming and going through the curtain to skate and then go do their own interviews.  Yuri was surprised at how many things could've been asked of him.

Has your training regiment changed since the Final?  What does figure skating mean to you, now that you're engaged to someone you only knew as a competitor or rival before?  How do you manage the coaching-student relationship now that you know Victor is coming back?  Do you think he'll go easy on you?  Do you think you can beat him for the gold?  What do you think you'll do if you beat him?

It went on for ages, but Yuri started to feel more at ease about it all the longer it went on.  It still made his heart stutter when he had to consider beating Victor at a competition they were both skating at though.  In the end, all he could do was nod, smile, and rankle his brow nervously, "Honestly, I'm not even entirely sure what I'd do if I somehow out-scored him.  Victor will always be the best skater of our time.  If I do better, it's only because he helped me do it.  These are our victories, not just mine.  I feel like he's actually out there on the ice with me when I skate now, guiding my movements in real time.  It's probably the closest thing to cheating I can think of without actually doing something that’s against the rules." He mused anxiously, and slid his arm behind the man's back to pull him closer, "It's been the honor of my life to have Victor be my coach.  I've just...always looked up to him, wishing I could skate even half as well as he did.  Coach Celestino did his best with me, but Victor gave me that last push I needed…gave me the thing I was missing."

"Oh?  What's that?"

"Loooooove~!" Victor sang in answer, and squished their cheeks together for emphasis as he sway-hugged his beloved, "The more I could show my love to Yuri, the better he skated!  Now that we're together, he's absolutely amazing on the ice!  I can only wonder how much better he'll be when we've said our vows!"

"Where are you going to go for the wedding?  Somewhere new or known?"

"Oh, we hadn't thought about that yet." Victor stammered, acting a bit more normal again as he stood steady, "I think Yuri imagines it on top of the hill at Hasetsu Castle.  Right, Yuri?"

He blanched slightly, "I've only gotten as far as imagining it on a hill somewhere, but not any specific hill."

"It's bound to be one of the biggest events in skating, outside the rink!" Another one of the reporters pointed out, "Be sure to let everyone know when you pick a date!  We'll be glad to come and chronicle it!  Fans love knowing about what their idols get up to in the off-season!"

"Absolutely~!" Victor cheered; Yuri nodded beside him.

.

Sitting all-but-naked on his knees on the ground in their hotel room - freshly showered; again - Yuri held up the tattered remains of his button-down shirt with a worried look on his face, "...Oh no, I forgot..."

"Just wear the button-down shirt from your 'Duetto' outfit." Victor suggested, texting someone as he slipped in behind the man.  His free hand touched softly to the small of his beloved's back, "I promise not to rip that one off of you later."

"You also promised you'd only let me have one drink at dinner the other night, too." Yuri pleaded, "That worked out real well!"

"Oh, I'd say it did." Victor winked at him as he disappeared around the corner to look at himself in the bathroom mirror, and made a few final adjustments before they were ready to leave again, "In any case, there's nothing for you to worry about being late for tomorrow morning if you want to sleep a hangover off.  I also bought something special for us while I was wandering around town the day we got here."  He set his phone on the vanity and checked the lapels of his shirt.

Yuri pulled off his sweater and rummaged back through his costume bag, and pulled the silky black shirt out to hold it up, "...It's so revealing though...it doesn't even button up the front all the way..."

"I don't see a problem with that." Victor teased, leaning out again just enough to give a sultry smile.

"I almost feel like you planned it this way." Yuri balked at him.

"It was the back-up plan in case you forgot to buy a new shirt." The Russian pointed out, "But you really should show off a little more, you know?  The competition arena isn't the only place where you can look sexy."

I've never been one to show-off in my normal life...now he says I should try to look more sexy outside the rink...  Yuri thought - and blushed - and looked at the shirt in his hands again, then slipped it over his arms and shoulders.  He buttoned it up as high as it could go, and pulled at the dark lapels where it parted to show skin, "I don't know...  This is weird!"

"How is it any weirder than being naked in the onsen or topless at the beach?"

"I dunno!  Why is it weird to wear under-pants outside but not swim trunks?"

Victor paused in his reflection, eyes narrowed as the conundrum struck, "...Why is that weird?  They both cover the exact same parts."  He asked aloud.  He spotted his fiancé come around the edge of the bathroom door to join him, though at that same moment, his phone buzzed again and drew his eyes down to the vanity where he'd put it.  His expression changed as he lifted the device and read the Cyrillic text on his screen; his smile faded to nothing, and his whole affect seemed heavier.

Yuri could feel the air around his partner change, and he moved closer to press a hand to the man's back as he stepped alongside, "...Everything okay?" 

"It'll be fine." He answered, and clicked his screen off; he knew Yuri would see right through that fake smile, but he gave it anyway.

"It will be fine?"  Yuri echoed and cocked a brow, "...You don't have to tell me what's wrong if something's happened, but please don't lie to me if something has."

The Russian looked a bit perplexed, but then looked down at his phone when it vibrated yet again.  He wasn't sure what good it would do to read what else had come through, and just swiped the message away to make the screen go dark again.  He then flipped it to set it face down on the counter, and turned his back to his partner ominously.  For a moment, there was nothing but silence, but then he lifted his head to peer at that worried face in the reflection in the mirror, only one eye visible to him.

"...Victor..?"

"I'm not sure if anything is wrong." He answered, "I don't know if I should be sad or happy or...indifferent."

"I don't get it."

"Have you ever wondered..." Victor started, though his words trailed slightly as he tried to find the right way to continue.  He had to shake his head a little to return to the moment, "...Have you ever wondered, truly, how would you feel if someone you were supposed to care about, but hadn't even seen in years, suddenly came crashing back into your life?"

A pit grew in Yuri's stomach, "...I don't know, I've never really been that close to someone that I'm not still close to now.  Small town problem, I guess."

"Mh..." Victor nodded, lowering his gaze a little, "It's hard to describe."

"I want to know..."

The Russian realized a tear had dripped down his face, falling between his feet on the tile floor, but he refused to acknowledge it.  He turned his head a little to look away from his reflection, "I've been texting with Yakov."

"...Okay?"

"Someone with the ISU office had given his phone number to someone I used to know.  Years ago.  Someone related to a person I once cared for deeply, but had a falling out with." He explained, his fingers touching the blue 'Duetto' caricature on his phone-case, "The thought of her was so far removed from my mind after all these years...  I wasn't totally sure she was...even still out there at this point."

Her?  Yuri's gut-pit grew even deeper, Is this an old lover of his?

"My skating career has always been important to me." Victor continued, "To the point that I put off everything else.  Heh...at one point, when we were in Barcelona, I even thought about how much my skating had caused me to neglect the 'life and love' in my existence.  I had no life, I had no love...I just had the ice.  And I was always such a hypocrite, skating to the themes of these ideas when I had no idea what I was talking about anyway."  He finally lifted his head and turned around, and reached out to lightly put his fingers on Yuri's chin.  He gently touched his index and middle fingers to that nervous lip, "Being with you these past ten months has made me realize how much I missed having those things, and how much I wanted to have them back.  I can't even imagine myself without you by my side anymore.  Every image that passes through my head has you there with me, even when we're both so old that we can't walk on our own anymore, never mind skate."

"Victor..."

"I don't know how to even...tell you about what's been said to me just now." He said, his voice quieter, "I'd let you read it yourself, but it's all in Russian, so I...guess I have to say it out loud." 

"Whatever it is, we'll be okay." Yuri reassured, "I’m sure it’ll be fine."

Victor nodded warily, and stepped closer to slide into a hug, holding his beloved close with arms over the younger man's shoulders.  He breathed in the damp smell of freshly conditioned hair and clean skin, and exhaled a long breath against his partner's neck, "...I'm not going to be able to go with you to visit Hasetsu after all." He said sadly, "You'll have to go on alone while I deal with this situation back in St. Petersburg."

"What?  No, you can't-"

"This is a mess I don't want you to get wrapped-up in.  It's better that you don't have to go through it." The silver rephrased, and pulled back a bit to look into those worried eyes with a serious affect, "This isn't a pleasant thing that's come up.  It'll hurt you if you go through it.  It might hurt us."

"Victor, please, you've got to tell me what's going on.  I'll start imagining all the worst possible things and you know it'll mess me up..."

"I...can't..." Victor tried, though his resolve was fading fast, "I've been avoiding the topic for so long that I'd thought I could finally get away with never dealing with it at all."

Realization struck, and Yuri's panicked face changed slightly, "Is it...your family?"

With no further recourse, Victor nodded and lowered his eyes to stare at his toes, "My mother is dead." He said abruptly, his fingers tightening on Yuri's shoulder where he held it.  He stayed there in that uncomfortable silence for a moment, but then moved to pull Yuri to his chest to hold him close, retreating to that familiar smell of his fiancé's body.

"...I'm so sorry..." Yuri attempted, returning the hug easily, but it did nothing to assuage his worry, "I don't...even know what I'd do if I lost my mom."

"That's just it..." Victor said, a sad laugh on his lips, "I just found out my mother was killed this weekend, and...I feel worse about the fact that I don't care, than I do about the fact that she's gone." He squeezed his beloved tighter, burying his face against the crook of the man's neck, "Forgive me...I'm a horrible person."

"W-...No you're not!" Yuri insisted, "Don't say that!"

"Let's just go to the Banquet." The emotionally-distant Russian said abruptly, and pulled up from that safe spot, "I don't want to think about this anymore."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

It was surreal to watch him after that; Yuri was sure that he himself looked more out-of-sorts than Victor did though.  He spent more than half the banquet just looking at his fiancé in silence, barely muttering a few grunts to people who asked him questions.

I can't understand any of this.

Victor seemed entirely normal.  He laughed and joked with people, took photos with practically everyone who asked, even pulled Yuri into several if he was within arm's reach before the flash went off.  The Four Continents group was an entirely different menagerie of people and cultures from the European Championships, and it was quite bit more subdued.  Perhaps the lack of the rowdy Europeans made the event seem more like a reception than a party; it suited Victor's purposes well enough, as there was no expectation that he'd be surrounded by craziness at any point. 

"Did you guys get into a fight...?" Phichit wondered, slowly sauntering over to where Yuri had stood idle and alone for a few minutes, "You've barely said a word all night and you're acting more like a wallflower than you used to."

Yuri looked at him, and then back to where Victor was socializing with some of the other coaches.  He shook his head, "No, nothing like that.  Victor and I are...doing pretty great, actually." He said, though his tone betrayed him.

"Then why are you acting like this?  You're not yourself.  I mean...you came off the Exhibition Skate so excited, and now look at you." The Thai skater pointed out, even offering some of his champagne to lighten the mood. 

Yuri refused though.  He watched as a small group of people approached the gaggle already around Victor, "It's hard to explain." He said, though he supposed he had to try anyway, "Victor told me something unsettling before we came over here, but it seems to bother me more than it does him.  Is that weird?"

"Maybe...depends on what it is."

"Hmm..." Yuri fumbled, "I don't think it's my place to say."  He looked back to realize Victor was waving at him, as though beckoning him over, but he shook his head and stayed put.

"If that's the case, then it sounds like you're upset over something that's his problem." Phichit said, and gently nudged his friend's shoulder before lifting his flute to take a new sip of bubbly, "But if he isn't bothered by it, why should you be for him?"

"I don't know." Yuri said with a sigh, "I just suddenly feel like it's the Sochi GPF banquet all over again.  Victor's over there, I'm over here...and I'm just staring at him, like I don't know the first thing about him all over again." 

"I believe the scientific term for this thing you're doing is 'self-sabotage.'" Phichit explained dryly, and gestured to the Russian, who was staring at them a bit despondently, "What could possibly have been said that made Victor deserve to get shot down like that just now?"

"I'm not-" Yuri paused, "...Did I?"

"A minute ago, he waved you over to where he's talking with those officials, and you completely blew him off.  Now he's looking at us like you just kicked his dog."

Yuri banged his own head twice in frustration at himself, "I'm so stupid.  I should go over there..."

"I wouldn't.  Not now." Phichit said, holding his hand out to make sure his friend stayed put, "He's probably already apologized to for why you refused them.  It could embarrass him if you changed your mind.  Those people he's talking to...they're the core organizers for all official ISU events.  Don't you remember them giving you your medal?"

Yuri felt even worse, "Then I really should go over there...!"

"No.  Just wait a minute." Phichit explained, trying to sound reassuring, "They probably think you refused to join them because you're not a coach like Victor is."

"Probably!?" Yuri was trying not to panic.

He saw Victor move to usher him over with a bit more urgency on his face than the last time, and Yuri shot over there like he'd been launched from a catapult.  He stood stiffly at attention and looked at the group attentively, but was too nervous to speak.

"I was just telling them about how you need more sponsors." Victor explained, and wrapped one arm around his partner's back, "Now that you've won medals in two major events, you should be getting support from more mainstream entities."

"Will you be making St. Petersburg your home rink from now on?" One of the ISU organizers asked, "I know of several Japanese organizations that want to be part of your skating future, but they don't know whether to send their representatives to Hasetsu or Russia."

"Oh...uhm, I'll be staying with Victor, so St. Petersburg, yes ma'am." He bowed his head politely.

Victor rubbed his thumb soothingly, and he nodded with approval.

"You've really shocked us all, Yuri." She continued, with gestures of agreement from the other officials, "We were really upset when you collapsed to last place in Sochi.  You'd pushed yourself so hard to make the final six and then you just imploded on yourself.  When we heard that Victor was taking a break from skating to coach you...we were all excited to see what would come of it, even as we were sad to see Victor leave."  She put her hand on Yuri's right shoulder, "We're very impressed with the results.  He's done a good job getting you back into shape.  We see promise in your future; you're quickly becoming one of the ISU's brightest stars, so please continue skating for a few more years, okay?"

"Y-Yes ma'am, I plan to."

"Excellent." She beamed, then looked back to Victor and extended her hand to shake his, which he did, "We'll have Yuri's new sponsors send all the information to St. Petersburg then.  Thank you for everything you've done to make him shine, and welcome back to you as well.  We look forward to Worlds and next season."

"Thank you, Chairwoman.  We do as well." Victor bowed his head, much like Yuri had, and smiled as the group moved on to talk to other skaters and coaches.

Yuri finally felt his heart-rate go down as the group turned away, and he heaved a deep breath.  He barely had a moment before he felt Victor hug him around his head; a gentle pat pressed down on his crown, and his vision shifted as his glasses were nudged slightly out of place.

"My little katsudon is finally getting recognition." He cooed, "Pretty soon, your mail will be as difficult to manage as mine is.  Thank goodness the ISU doesn't require us to wear the logos of all our sponsors...otherwise we'd look like those ridiculous American racecar drivers."

"NASCAR ISN'T RIDICULOUS, VICTOR." Leo called from where he'd heard the comment; the American skater's head popped up from the crowd like a cubicle-tech who'd just heard there was free pizza in the lounge.

Yuri blanched at the whole thing, but kept on with his nervous smile while Victor continued to hug him.

The rest of the night felt like a blur.  There was a small ceremony where the medalists were all called to help cut into an enormous cake, and Yuri did so happily, albeit with that nagging feeling weighing on his heart.  More photos were taken; he was sure he looked awkwardly uncomfortable in most of them, if not every one of them.  It was a relief when the banquet was officially over and people started to trickle out, to go back to their rooms for one last night's sleep before flying back to their home countries.  The walk back to their own room was pretty much done in silence.  Victor kept his fingers interlaced with Yuri's as they walked the narrow halls, and didn't try to force a conversation.  His attention was brought back down to terra firma only when he felt Yuri lean against his arm while they waited for the elevator.

"Have you already bought your ticket?"

"Yeah."

"Mh..." Yuri sighed, and stood in silence for a few more seconds; the elevator arrived, the doors opened, and they filtered in alongside a few other banquet-goers.

Victor wasn't sure what to say anyway; the confines of the small space made it easy to stay quiet.  He didn't speak again until they were safely inside their room.

"It'll be a week before I can join you in St. Petersburg, if I go on with the original plan." Yuri said, trying not to let the conversation die, "I wish you'd said something before you made all your plans."

"It's...not something I wanted to give you the option of dealing with." Victor tried to explain, "I don't want to drag you into the middle of it.  There's a thousand good reasons why I never answered when you asked about my past."

"...How am I supposed to be a good partner to you if I don't even know where you really came from?  The things I know about you can't just be about skating now...?"

Victor huffed a little and looked away, "I don't...know if I'm ready to bring it up.  It's not a fun conversation.  It's giving me palpitations just having the idea of it on my mind now." He grumbled, and sat down on the edge of their bed, head in his hands, "...It's just too much...  I’m so sorry…"

Yuri pulled off his formal clothes and started to put them away, then grabbed his shorts and t-shirt as he got ready to slip into bed.  He listened to his fiancé's words carefully, and considered in silence how to continue.  The only thing he knew to do was to get on top of the bed and sit beside his dour partner, hoping his presence comforted the man.  The quiet was really awkward though, and Yuri shook his head lightly, "...I don't know what to say without coming across as manipulative." He started warily, "I want to know what you've gone through, and why this process is so hard for you to go through now.  It kills me to see you hurting like this.  But...if telling me would make it worse, then I...guess I'll just have to wait until you're ready."

"...I feel like it would ruin the way you see me." Victor admitted bitterly, and used his free hand to rub his nose, "Everything was going so well without having those details."

"I hope one day that you're comfortable enough with me to know that you'll always be the same person in my eyes, no matter what else I learn about you." Yuri tried to reassure, and pat the hand he held, "Your past is what made you who you are, but it doesn't define you."

"Maybe not, but..." Victor said, and finally looked up again, though not far, "Facing my past may change my future, and I'm not sure if it would be for good or ill."

"You don't have to face anything," Yuri pointed out, and leaned against that closest shoulder, "Maybe this could bring closure instead, so you really can move on from it."

"Closure?" The silver echoed, almost aghast at it, "My mother wasn't the one I was worried about.  She was just..." He started, then stopped, and shook his head, "No, now I'm getting into details."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"...Like what?" Victor wondered, glancing up out the corner of his eye.

"Go take a shower.  Spend some time in there thinking about the easiest possible summary of what you're about to walk into when you go back to St. Petersburg.  I can't make it better, but...understanding a little bit may help me help you get through it."

Slate eyes watched for a moment, wider from the suggestion, then narrower as he understood.  He drew a deep breath, and rose up from the edge of the bed, "...Yeah..." He said, halfheartedly.  With no other recourse, Victor made his way around to the bathroom.  With the added heat of his nerves bubbling up in his gut, the shower felt unbearably hot, but even after trying to turn it down, it didn't seem to help.  He could feel the skin over his left cheek twitching terribly, making his eyelid quiver irritatingly.  He raised a hand to brush his bangs away, and pressed his hand to the trembling patch.

The silver drew in a deep, quaking breath as he pressed his shoulder against the cold tile wall.  His whole frame cringed as those vague memories started flooding back into him; a man's deep voice, a woman's shrill cry, a child's scream and sob, then a crash, and another man's voice...Victor couldn't place who or why. 

How do I explain this to Yuri!? He thought bitterly, eye twitching so strongly that it squinted that side, I've put all thought of that time so far at the back of my mind that I'm not sure I even remember it right anymore.  All I really have left is the fear and anger...

There was nothing else he could do except get out and dry off again, and try to make himself as comfortable as he could before he unlocked all of that discomfort.  He came back through the bathroom door with a bathrobe on his pale frame, and a towel draped over his damp, steely-grey hair.  He spotted Yuri on the bed, sighed quietly to himself, and made the arduous journey over to join him.

"You were barely in there for a few minutes.  You sure you're ready?" Yuri asked pensively, looking at his fiancé's back.  He watched in anxious quiet as Victor ruffled the towel over his head a little bit more, set it aside, and sat there motionless again in thought.  Not knowing what to do, Yuri twisted in place and reached a hand over, pressing his fingers to his partner's back reassuringly.

Victor's body twitched slightly to feel it, but Yuri just flattened his hand out gently.  The Russian drew in a pained breath, and finally rose up again to cast his bathrobe off - hanging it off the headboard - and trained his thinly-garbed frame into the comfort of the blankets.  Yuri came in close and hugged him, one arm draped over his chest, head nestled by his own; it was a comfort, but Victor was still anxious.  He lifted one hand and rest it on his fiancé's forearm, holding onto it like it would help anchor him into the moment, "...I came out because...I couldn't really think of what I wanted to say." He started, eyes up on the ceiling, "It's been such a long time.  I put all of that stuff so far into my rearview mirror that I couldn't see it clearly anymore.  I'm not even really sure I could pick my parents out of a crowd anymore."

"Do you remember how old you were the last time you saw them?"

"Eleven or twelve, I think...  My memory is so muddled that it's like I wasn't even alive before I joined Juniors."

"Did you always train with Yakov?" Yuri asked, hoping maybe to lighten the issue and go back from there.

"Yeah." Victor nodded, "Up until a few years ago - probably because of his age - he used to go into the country on these fishing expeditions, looking for young talent to bring back to St. Petersburg.  He'd get tips from the different rinks about potential athletes, and he'd go out there to check.  If he liked what he saw, he'd talk to the families and offer to take the kids and give them a future.  Even if figure skating didn't turn out to be it, at least they'd be in the city where they could go to school or join the service, or whatever they wanted."

"Right...  So he asked your parents, huh?"

"Not...exactly." The silver said, his skin tightening under Yuri's embrace, "My mother was the...only one who knew about my skating.  My father would go into these violent tirades if he even heard the word."

Yuri lifted his head, "What?  Why?"

"I'll go to my grave never knowing the answer to that question," Victor sighed, "Maybe he was a drunk and hated fun.  Maybe he hated me?  Maybe he hated skating for some dumb reason that I was never told.  I...can kind-of remember times where my mother would take me to some frozen pond and let me go.  I don't exactly remember how we ended up at a rink, but that's how I eventually met with Yakov."

"He must've gotten you out then."

"...You could say that."

"Would it be more accurate to say he saved you?"

"Maybe.  I still had some contact with my mother after leaving, but that eventually faded to nothing, too.  I haven't talked to her in over ten years now.  That's why I'm not sure what to feel about this whole thing.  I don't know the woman anymore." Victor grumbled.  He waited a moment in annoyed silence, then abruptly turned to find his phone, "This is dumb.  I'm cancelling my ticket.  I don't want to waste my time and energy on a bunch of meaningless pain."

Yuri felt a pang of guilt and sprung up to sit as well, reaching over to tangle his fiancé's arms, "Wait, wait, Victor...you're just going to cancel going to a funeral?  She's still your mother…"

Victor blanched and gawked, but then started to pull his forearms loose again, "It's not a funeral."

"...It's...not?  Then what is it?"

"Yakov says I'm supposed to..." The Russian said tensely, and paused for a breath, "...I'm supposed to meet my father.  To get details for the funeral."

"...Yakov couldn't just get that information himself?"

"He tried.  Apparently my father refuses to say more.  Yakov waited until after the Gala to tell me about it because he knew how much it would upset me."

"...Why not until after our trip back to Hasetsu then?" Yuri grumbled, and used his arms to hug the man instead.

"He didn't know we were going.  It was more of a...heads up, for when he thought we were going to be back in Russia."

"So he believed we'd both come back to deal with this." Yuri said, and shook his head, "...He meant for us to do this together."

Victor sighed, "I don't think he meant for anything, except to make sure this news didn't mess you up on the ice."

"Let me come with you." Yuri asked, "You've been helping me for nearly a year, and I haven't really gotten to do anything for you.  Our relationship can't be just about skating...  What would we have after I retire, if that was it?"

Victor cringed; a particularly poignant stab from a comment he'd heard in recent days came bubbling back up unbidden.

'Pretty soon the only gold you'll see is the gold on your finger!  We'll see how long that lasts after one of you quits skating!'

He growled and dipped his head, "We would have plenty.  We were already happy without knowing about this stuff, weren't we?"

"...Sure..." Yuri agreed tepidly, "But by the sounds of it, your mother helped support your skating even when your father wouldn't.  I wouldn't go so far as to say you owe her this final gesture, but...maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

Victor scoffed a single laugh, "My father will break us both in half if he knows we're together."

"Then he won't.  I'll just...go back to being your student."

"I wouldn't feel right about that."

"It wouldn't be for long.  Once it's all over, we can go back to our normal."

Victor stayed quiet a moment, and looked back down at his phone.  He'd already managed to pull up the confirmation email for his plane ticket back to St. Petersburg, and his thumb hovered over the cancelation button.

"...At some point, hopefully soon," Yuri started again, his voice quieter, "We're going to take vows to be there for each other through the best and the worst.  We may not have a date set yet, but...I like to think I'm already living by those vows.  Since the moment I knew you were going to stay with me...since we kissed in the onsen...I swore to myself that I'd never push you away – never doubt you – ever again.  Could you make that same pledge?"

Victor huffed and turned his head, "How would we even get back to St. Petersburg on such short notice?  My plane ticket alone cost US$3000.  Buying two tickets, on such short notice...we'd be spending ten grand to get there." He asked, half-disregarding the pointed question, "I'd much rather just go see your family like we'd originally planned, and forget this whole thing happened."

"We still have the ISU tickets to take us home from competition." Yuri answered easily, "They didn't get cancelled just because we made our own plans."

"Ugh so we'll have to sit in coach all the way back."

Yuri felt his heart flutter, "So this means you're going to let me be part of things?"

Victor grumbled slightly, "This wasn't my ideal 'first bad situation' to have to trudge through..." He explained, "But...  Let me think about it first.  Either we go to Hasetsu or we go straight back to St. Petersburg...but we go together, whichever it is."

"...I guess that'll have to do for now." Yuri answered quietly.

"I know it's not what you wanted to hear." The silver said, and leaned slightly to kiss the side of his beloved's head, "Through good times and bad, sickness and health, I swear to be faithful and good to you...  I just...need to figure out if this situation is good for us, too.  I don't want to put us through Hell for nothing."

Hearing the vow was enough to put Yuri's mind at ease finally, and he let out a relieved breath.  He reached a hand up to gently move steely strands of hair out of his partner's face, and kissed a cheek, "Let's get some rest then.  If we go straight back, it'll be a long flight."

Victor watched quietly as his partner twisted away to click the night-table lamp off, and plunged the room into darkness for the night.  He felt the blankets and mattress shift as Yuri laid down and got comfortable, then the pawing warm hand that wanted him to join.  He finally relented in his guilty vigil and twisted to get under the blankets, found his fiancé's thin frame, and cozied-up close to him, "...I wish we didn't have to deal with this so soon.  I'm nowhere near ready to confront all that stuff."

"I'm with you, no matter what you decide." Yuri replied, petting the arms that wrapped around him, "Just be sure you're at peace with whatever it ends up being."

"...Yeah..."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Getting up, packed, fed, and to the airport was the most awkward and quiet procession of events Yuri had known in recent memory.  Right up until they were at the self-serve kiosk to print their tickets, Victor still hadn't made a decision about where they were going.  Fingers tapped on the digital display to start the process, and Victor held his phone out, email at the ready for the confirmation numbers back to Hasetsu.  Yuri stood quietly by with his own phone up, and the other email; the one the ISU sent with their (dreaded) economy-class vouchers back to St. Petersburg. 

Finally, Victor drew a difficult breath, and scanned the bar-code on his own phone to print their Hasetsu tickets.  The terminal asked a few final questions about their boarding situation - bags, confirming their seats, carry-on luggage - then spat out their boarding passes.  Victor quickly swiped them, stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket, and took his fiancé by the arm to start moving down to the baggage self-check station.  He couldn't stand to look anywhere but up, and especially avoided looking towards Yuri; he was sure his partner was giving him 'that' look.  It didn't stop Yuri from speaking though.

"...So...back to Hasetsu then, huh?" He asked simply, "Why'd you decide that?"

"Sitting in the onsen and getting some katsudon sounds infinitely more appealing than confronting my father about a funeral I don’t even want to go to."

"I see..."

Victor stopped in his tracks abruptly, eyes in that long thousand-yard-stare, looking at nothing in particular.  Yuri stared quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever cogs were turning in the man’s brain.  The Russian just pinched the bridge of his nose and gawped, “What good would it even do?  Honestly.  Yuri, tell me.  I’ve been estranged from them for most of my life.” He asked pointedly, his left eye trembling behind those silver bangs.

“I…I don’t know, Victor…” The younger man answered, brows furrowed, “You won’t tell me anything about your past.”

That seemed to stagger the antsy Russian a little bit, and he grit his teeth as he looked away.  He hesitated a moment, but then shook his head with a brusque growl and started walking again.  Yuri followed along with the tug, heading towards the baggage check-in counter.  They joined the cue quietly after that, and half-patiently waited for it to empty as the other passengers waded their way through ahead of them.  It seemed to take ages though, and the uncomfortably silence between the pair started to prickle at the back of Victor’s neck.  There were only three people left ahead of them in line when the Russian hesitated again, seeing the open space for them to step forward, but unable to move his feet.

Silently, Yuri continued to let the man percolate on his own.  Passengers in line behind them were starting to lean awkwardly, staring around them, wondering why the pair wasn’t shuffling along.  Just as Yuri was about to nudge his partner forward though, Victor abruptly pulled an about-face and marched them back out of line, snarling under his breath as he stomped towards the self-check-in kiosk again.  The panel was unoccupied, and Victor stared at his reflection in the glass sternly, moving only to hold his open palm out to his perplexed fiancé.

“Phone.”

Yuri blinked, looked up at the man, then down at his expectant hand, "Phone?"

"Don't make me say it again."

A pang of nerves fluttered in Yuri's gut, but he did as bid and unlocked his device.  It was still on the email confirmation page from earlier, and he set it gingerly into that - now that he really looked; sweaty - palm.  He's really going to do it...?  He thought, and stood with their rolling luggage as Victor started tapping at the touch-screen again.  It took far less time to get their second set of boarding passes, and Victor stuffed them into his coat alongside the original tickets, not sure if he was angry, scared, frustrated, or just annoyed.  Yuri then held his hand out to get his phone back, pocketed it, and lifted his palm a second time.

"What else?" Victor asked stiffly.

"Give me the passes you don't want to use."

The annoyed Russian rifled through the inside breast-pocket of his jacket, found the four slips, and fanned them out in his fingers.  Grimly, he separated the tickets to Russia from the ones to Japan, and handed over the tickets earmarked for Fukuoka. 

Yuri carefully put them away, "When we're done checking out bags, we’ll get the refund for these.  Are you sure about this?" He asked, "This is what you want."

"Oh I'm sure it's absolutely what I don't want," The silver puffed, sinking into his jacket a little bit like he was already regretting the whole thing, "But..."

"Maybe things have changed." Yuri finished the thought for him, "It's been a really long time since you saw the man last.  If nothing else, maybe losing his wife has humbled him, and he isn't as bad as you remember."

"I have a feeling that won’t be the case.  Cats don’t easily change their stripes."

"Don't borrow trouble."

With their luggage checked-in to the Aeroflot line, Yuri guided their way to the refund counter, got a little bit of their money back for the Asiana flight, and nudged his anxious fiancé over to the security checkpoint.  Once through that, they headed for the first café they could find, and set their carry-on bags beside a pair of dark wicker chairs. 

"What time does the Aeroflot flight even depart?" Victor asked anxiously, brows rankled deeply.

"Not for a while."

"Time.  Please.  What o'clock."

"Five."

Victor fell back against his chair with a muffled groan into his cupped hands, "We'll be waiting until seven at the earliest.  This is just great.  By the time we even get on the plane, we could've been in Hasetsu already."

"That is one reason why we decided to go back after 4CCs; super-short travel distance." Yuri reminded, "It'll be fine though.  Incheon has plenty of stuff to do to pass the time.  I’ll call Minako-sensei and Mari-nee-chan to tell them not to wait-up for us."

Victor grumbled and buried his face into his crossed arms on their table instead, "Božë moj, čto ja nadëlal?" (Dear lord, what have I done?) He whined.

Yuri pat the man's back gently, and made the unfortunate phone call to tell the aforementioned ladies that they would be returning without him and Victor.  He didn't go into much detail about what had happened, but apologized profusely, said he'd call his parents as well, and promised they would visit after Worlds instead.  Once the second call was done - which went much the same way as the first, thankfully - Yuri put his phone away again, and spread out to slouch across his partner's back and shoulders, "It's done." He explained calmly.  Though Victor didn't move, the subtle tremble told Yuri all he needed to know about how the man felt about this turn of events.  ...He's...crying...?  Victor...

.

Incheon International Airport wasn't an unpleasant place to spend half a day at least.  It was relatively new; another wing (Terminal 2) was under construction and slated for grand opening the next year, possibly in anticipation of the Winter Games.  Yuri looked at a map of the place and realized that not only was there a skating rink, but a sauna/spa, cinema, a Korean Cultural Museum, Sky Garden, and if they felt they needed it, a Rest area with beds and showers.  Yuri wondered if that meant it had those airport sleep pods he'd once heard about.

Victor was unusually quiet.

Maybe not unusually quiet, given how he'd been so far that morning, but...for his normal affect, it was unusual.

Yuri held to his arm until they came to rest in the Sky Garden; a secluded and restful area with ponds, plants, and the smell of natural water in the air.   The bubbling sounds were relaxing, though Yuri could tell it wasn't helping Victor any; he just slouched over his knees where he collapsed onto a wooden bench, staring at his shoes blankly.  Sitting on the man's right side, Yuri put his left hand on his partner's thigh and leaned close, "Is there anything I can do to help...?"

"Can you speed us forward in time so we can get to the part where it's already over?" Victor said, keeping his eyes low.

Yuri's brows furrowed, and he nudged the Russian with his shoulder, hoping he could see those crystal eyes.  Victor kept his sights low, but acknowledged the attempt by moving one hand out from under his chin to clasp over his fiancé’s soothing grip.  If that was the best he could do for the moment, Yuri accepted it, and pulled his thumb free to clasp around Victor’s fingers.

“I don’t…exactly know what you want me to do for you right now…” The younger commented warily, “Should I stay quiet and give you some headspace, or do you want me to distract you?”

Victor waited a moment, but then closed his eyes and softly shook his head, “I don’t want to punish you for what’s happening.  None of it is your fault.”

“It’s not yours either…”

“Let’s just…” He started, and huffed a sigh, leaning forward to stand up again.  One blue eye glanced down tiredly, “…find something to do.  I’ll have more than enough time to sit and brood while we’re stuck on the plane.”

Yuri felt the subtle tug on his hand, and accepted the help up to his own feet.  He reached to pull his phone out again, and clicked it on, “You wanna go skating?”

It took a little bit of convincing, but before long, Yuri had the man following him.  Since they always had their skates with them, there was no need to rent any, and they quietly laced-up and stepped out into the oddly-designed rink; more square than rectangular, and with four huge posts rising up from each of the quadrants, holding up the intra-terminal railway high above.  There were even a few people who recognized the pair and cheered them on from the other side of the barrier walls.  For a moment, Victor smiled and waved like he always had, spreading a little bit of joy even if he himself had trouble finding any for himself. 

The rink was rather crowded; perhaps more than usual because of the competition that had just happened, or perhaps because so many people were on lay-over...but maybe, still, it could just be because of the huge pillars that took up so much space, forcing people closer together in less available space.  The pillars were wrapped in shining, fringed paper and lights, looking like pale white-purple-pink Christmas-tree tinsel-posts.  There was a billboard panel at the far end of the rink with a big display that welcomed tourists and guests alike for the Four Continents event; it didn't show any skaters on it, but rather, the event's logo, and a conspicuously-placed preview of the fact that it would also be hosting the Winter Games the following year.

There were a few families on the ice with their young kids, each wearing the signature blue rental skates and yellow helmets that the airport provided.  A few times, a very young child, new to the rink, would skate past them without being able to stop, occasionally nearly colliding with them.  Each time, Victor would lean down to gently stop them by putting his hands out for them to reach out to, and he'd turn them back around to gently nudge them towards the waiting arms of their parents or older siblings.  Seeing the ‘happy little families’ made Victor feel a certain kind of way though, and he suddenly felt a surge of energy.  He gave his partner’s hand a gentle squeeze to let go, then pulled out in front, skating around the inside wall of the rink until he disappeared behind the huge 'tinsel-pillars.’  The far side of the little arena was more thinly occupied, and Victor had a bit more freedom of movement, but other skaters still had to move a bit out of his way when they heard him coming. 

Peaks and valleys...moments of low and high energy.  He's practically losing his mind with how long this is taking, Yuri thought to himself as he watched the man’s movement, This must be what Hell feels like to him; moving fast with nowhere to go.

Victor eventually slowed down when he caught up to his partner for the 4th time, and Yuri spun around to meet him.  It felt like ballroom dancing after Victor took him by one hand and put the other around his waist, pulling him backwards with the remains of his previous momentum.  Those blue eyes were watching ahead of them though, and Yuri could only wonder what had gotten him so focused all of a sudden.

"What kind of program should I do next season?" The silver asked, answering that question with one of his own.

"...Eh?"

Victor spun his beloved back around again, facing them both forward as they glided, and he lazily draped himself over Yuri's back, "If I did a program just for you, what would you want to see me do?"

"Did you really just ask your biggest fanboy what program he’d want you to skate?" Yuri asked with a smirk, "Do you want that list alphabetically or numerically?  I could give it to you by theme or genre, concept or costume, maybe by the mood of each musical decade…" He listed the options off with his fingers.

Victor hummed a quiet laugh, feeling a bit of relief from that change in tone, "Tell me your top choice.  What song would you pick?"

Yuri thought on it for a while, but then had an idea, and gestured for Victor to guide him around the ice so he could check his phone.  Victor nodded eagerly, and pushed off with one hefty kick on the ice, putting them on a good long glide.  He even lowered down onto a knee slightly, giving Yuri something of a perch to sit on while he did his browsing.  There were a few possibilities as he scrolled through the playlist, but eventually, he stumbled onto one song, buried deep in his archive, and he pulled some ear-buds out of his pockets to let Victor hear. 

They continued lazily skating along as Victor listened, and Yuri could tell he was starting to like it, as he bobbed his head a little to the beat of the music.  As the song started to repeat its chorus, Victor hoisted himself back up to his full height; he took Yuri's phone with him though, and circled around the younger man as inspiration started to flow through.  As the song came to an end, Yuri watched Victor go back and put it on repeat, mapping out the new program right there in front of Yuri's eyes.

Yuri watched with fascination, seeing subtle gestures and head-bobs evolve into more complex strings of movement; nonsense gradually formed something coherent, developed a flow and rhythm, and the starting threads of a personality.  By the 5th or 6th go-through, Victor was even starting to plot a course for the jumps he’d insert later, doing little spinning hops as he moved through their placeholders.  Yuri could almost hear the music playing in his head as he watched, enamored by the performance even as it was barely starting to take shape.  When Victor finally thought he had enough to start, he came back over to give Yuri back his phone and ear-buds, beaming down at him.

"I'm going to use this for my next short program, Yuri."

"Eh?  Really?” Eyes shone with excitement, “You really mean it!?”

"It sank its teeth into me." Victor mused, and mussed his partner's hair affectionately, "I'm surprised you never suggested using it yourself."

"...It's too long for a Short Program and too short for Free Skate, so..."

"What, you've never considered editing it for time?" Victor was surprised, "Your conservatory friend couldn't pare it down for you?"

"I…never thought to ask." He answered sheepishly, “I wouldn’t know what to cut out.  I like the whole thing.”

"That makes me lucky then." Victor smiled, "I can already hear the finished product."

Yuri flushed a little, "So then what about your Free Skate?"

"Weren’t you the one telling me to practice my current season’s programs first?" The silver teased.

"I was...yes."

“I have my work cut out for me.  But I’m sure I’ll think of something before long." Victor huffed a laugh to himself, "I have plenty of time.”

Yuri was just relieved that Victor had finally found something to be happy about again.  They skated in lockstep for another 30 or 40 minutes before the growling in Yuri's stomach demanded dealing-with.  When Victor heard the rumble, they packed up their skates again and started heading towards the restaurant area to find something to eat.

The time passed more quickly after that, and things seemed to feel a little more normal.  For the moment, it felt like they were just getting ready to go home, like nothing was waiting for them in St. Petersburg but an anxious poodle.  The upcoming 9 hour and 20 minute flight didn't seem like such a bad thing; Victor's leg-space would've normally had something to say about that, but couldn’t be reached for comment.

When it was finally time to board, however, Yuri could feel Victor getting anxious again, walking slower than he usually did to get onto the plane.  Other passengers passed them in the boarding tunnel, and Yuri had to stop and go back to help coax his partner along.

"...Come on; Makkachin is waiting." He said, gently rubbing his thumb where he held to Victor's hand.

It took a while still, but the nervous Russian finally let himself get on the plane.  Their seats weren't far on board; oddly, however...there were people already sitting in them, and none of them looked particularly interested in moving.  Victor narrowed his eyes impatiently, muttering under his breath about how this kind of thing was ‘typical,’ but Yuri was quick to keep him from saying anything loudly enough to be heard by others.  He got them all the way back to the connecting tunnel, and tried his best to explain the situation to the attendants.

"Our seats were reserved but there's a bunch of other people already sitting in them," He started, "I'm really not sure what to do."

"That’s Aeroflot for you," Victor grumbled quietly, "If they're not super late, then they overbook.  Or they lose your things."

"Hush, they're looking for a solution," Yuri said, and pulled them both back out of the way of other passengers.  They felt rather silly, standing there while the flight master tried to find somewhere else to put them, and it seemed like practically every other passenger was on board when an answer finally came.

"Sorry for wait," The flight master said, returning to the duo; his accent was rather thick, "Now all passengers are on plane, we find seats.  How you sit?"

"...How we what?" Yuri echoed in confusion.

Victor grumbled a punishing sigh, "Prosto govori tak, čtoby tebja ponimali bez perevodčika." (Just speak in a way you understand without a translator.)

Yuri found himself buttoned-up rather quickly at the harsh and intimidating language, but it seemed like Victor got his point across so quickly that the flight master just gestured towards the business-class section.  To their surprise, the whole section was fairly sparsely occupied, perhaps only half occupancy, and they were allowed to pick whichever seats they wanted.  The cabin was set with three rows, each with a pair of seats that were off-set from the row beside them.  Victor was quick to find a pod next to a window, with at least one other pod behind and in front of them to avoid anyone bothering them with kicks or looking.  The big seats were a welcome sight to the Russian's tired eyes, and he plunked down into one nearest to a window.

"This isn't so bad all of a sudden," Yuri commented, reaching up to put his boot-bag into the overhead compartment, then held his hands out for his partner's.  With the second bag stowed and the compartment then closed, Yuri pulled up the pillow and blanket pouch from his seat, and sat down.  He looked over once he was settled and buckled in, and found his fiancé sullenly sitting there with his eyes closed.  Warily, he reached to find the man's hand and clasped it between them, "You want to use my eye-mask?"

"No..." The silver answered, eyes still closed, "I’m not sleepy.  I just don't know what to talk about anymore."

"You could finally tell me about your family, so I have a better idea of what we’re walking into."

Victor turned his head on his pillow, that one eye staring, “I’ll give you points, that was a good attempt.  But, I’ll have to pass.  Once we’re done with this sordid affair, I won’t ever want to think of it again.”

Yuri shrugged and shook his head with a wry smile, “It was worth a shot.”

“I promise, Yuri…” The silver said unexpectedly, “…I’m not going to let this turn of events become my villain origins story.  Once it’s over, I want to go back to being us; I want to go back to being me.  The person I was back then doesn’t exist anymore.”

“…Sounds like you’re worried you’re turning into that person again now though.  Even if only temporarily?”

That caught the breath in Victor’s throat for a second, and he had to swallow the surprise.  He closed his eyes and sat up a bit straighter, “…It’s a concern, yeah.” He explained, and turned his head to look out the window instead, “…I never want to be that weak again.”

When they were finally, safely in the air, and the seat-belt light turned off, Yuri peeled out of his sleeper seat and moved over into Victor's.  No words need be said between the couple; Victor started lowering the seat down to its horizontal position, and squeezed over to one side so Yuri could wedge himself in next to him; an incredibly tight squeeze for two adults, but well-worth the effort once achieved.  Once they were properly tangled into each other, Victor threw both of their blankets over themselves, and wrapped his arms around Yuri's head to pull him close to his chest.  He clung to his beloved for most of the flight.

Thankfully, as long as they were asleep, none of the flight staff bothered them.

Nearly 10 hours later, with one break in between for an in-flight meal, they landed at Sheremetyevo airport in Moscow.  With the time-difference, it was almost 9 o'clock at night local time, and there were still another 3 or 4 hours on the Sapsan train to get to St. Petersburg, so it was after midnight when they finally got into the city.  The shuttle that took them to the airport had gotten them back to Victor's front door after that.  Exhausted and travel-weary, Yuri collapsed on the bed; he longed for the family hot-spring back in Hasetsu, but refused to give voice to those thoughts.  After a minute of dozing, he pulled himself back upright and went to where he saw a light near the kitchen.  Victor stood by the stove with a pot-handle in his grip, setting it onto one of the stove elements as he clicked the burner on.

"...You're starting that now?  Are you really going to be up that long?" Yuri wondered, "Mulling wine always takes you a few hours, at least..."

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight." He answered, reaching for the bottle of wine he’d already picked.  He peeled the plastic off the mouth, and started twisting the cork-screw into the seal.  He huffed a tired laugh, "Besides…I really need this."

"When is this meeting even supposed to happen?" Yuri wondered as he stepped in, and leaned back on the counter as the cork popped.  He watched as Victor took a brief sniff at the wispy end of the bottle’s open top before he started to pour, "Is it tomorrow?  Er...Later today?" He corrected, remembering it technically already was tomorrow.

"I'm supposed to meet with my father later today - early afternoon - to get instructions on where to go for the funeral, which is tomorrow-tomorrow afternoon." He answered, and started reaching for some jars on the shelving above the counter.  He tossed in his favorite spices, some orange juice, and hull, then covered the pot with the lid.  He pre-set a timer for 2 hours and cleaned up the small mess as the wine mixture started to steam a little, "I bet he’s only doing it this way to put eyeballs on me, just in case I back out at the last second...  I've no doubt he'll try to guilt-trip me into going; honor thy parents and all."

"How come he didn't just contact you himself anyway?"

"He doesn't have my information, and it’s not easy to get it." Victor explained, "Yakov screens the calls I get from outsiders, and then I set my number to private if I call out myself.  I still get the occasional sales call, but it's not specifically because they're looking to talk to me."

"Couldn't your father just find out where you train and show up there to give you the info?"

"He could, but he would never set foot in such a place.  He’s too..." The Russian started, but then paused, reaching up to rub his forehead, "...I can't even think of the right word.  Sorry."

"Spiteful?" Yuri wondered, "Like...really scornful, judgmental, that sort of thing...?"

"No...well, yes, but..."

"...Vindictive?"

"Fanatical"  Victor brushed his hair back, feeling his left eye start to throb with the memory of a distant incident, "Whatever it is that's driving him to reach out to me now, he's going to make me work for it.  He probably doesn't even actually want to talk to me, but something's forcing him.  If it was anything less than a funeral, Yakov would've never told me about Konstantin’s call in the first place."

"Konstantin...so that's his name."

Victor groaned aloud, "Damnit, I knew that would slip..."

"Yakov must be very protective of you if he'd go this far." Yuri wondered. He stepped closer to snake his arms around his partner's weary frame, "Kind of like a father-figure rather than just a coach."

"He was there when the falling-out happened." Victor explained, "He's going to be there later today, too."

"Do you expect it to go that badly...?"

Victor huffed a laugh, and lifted his arms over his fiancé’s shoulders so he could return the hug.  He looked on quietly for a moment, but then lowered his gaze, down and away, and sucked in a wary breath as his left eye jerked irritatingly.  He pulled one hand back to press against it, trying to force the flesh to calm down as he hissed a grumbled breath, “This damn thing…”

“What’s the matter?  Your eye’s been bothering you since the other day…”

He shook his head and pulled the man closer, speaking the words against the side of Yuri’s neck, "The last time I saw my father, he knuckled me in the eye so hard, it bled for four days.  I thought it would blind me, and I think my father meant for it to.  That was long before joining the ISU though, so no one but Yakov knows.  And now you."

Yuri blanched, fingers gripping at the back of the man’s shirt tightly.  His brow hurt from the grim look on his face, and he thought his heart had stopped beating.  He swallowed a frozen lump in his throat and hugged a little closer, "...There's no way he would try to hit you again though...right?"

"I have no idea what he's doing to do." Victor said simply, "I don’t even know what I’m going to do.  I guess I hope just being there is enough to satisfy whatever twisted need the man has to see me."

Yuri wasn't sure how to respond to that.  His mind raced, and he drew in a deep, wordless breath.

Victor turned his eyes towards him and tried to smile, "Promise you won't do anything stupid if he tries, Yuri."

"I can't just do nothing."

"He could break us both in half if he wanted; he’s huge."  He said, and pulled his arms back so he could gently touch his fingers to the side of his beloved's neck and jaw, "I've let you follow me this far...please, Yuri, don't make me regret it."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Victor had eventually succumbed to sleep after dawn that morning, eased into it with the help of his mulled wine.  He was awoken only by the sound of barking outside, car-doors closing, and Yuri being bowled over by a particularly excited poodle as he opened the front door to the elder gentleman who'd just arrived.

"Congratulations on winning your first gold, Yuri." Yakov told him, "You have our Yuri sweating over Worlds already."

Yuri laughed nervously as Makkachin continued laying on the love, jumping around like a hot bean, "It's going to be one hell of a competition."

"Where's Vitya?"

"I'm here." Victor said sleepily as he emerged from within, holding his arm up to shield his eyes from the bright sun, "Thanks for watching Makkachin again."

The dog leapt up to try and lick Victor's face, so the man caught him in mid-leap and held the big pup against his chest.  Makkachin wiggled and licked, then licked and wiggled, unsure what order to do things in.  Victor eventually set the dog back on the ground, and the excited creature fell onto his back to demand belly pets, to which Victor quickly obliged.

"Were you up drinking all night?" The coach wondered, an eyebrow quirked under the brim of his hat.

"I was up all night, and I did drink, but only one glass." Victor assured him, "I wouldn't be hung-over for something like this."

"And you told Katsuki what's going on?"

"More or less."

Yakov half-rolled his eyes, and couldn't help but switch to Russian, [Vitya, how can you be acting dumb about this?  You're setting him up for a situation that isn't likely to go the way you want it to.  ...I don't think you should bring him.]

[I already told him it would be okay if he came.  I can't just leave him at home now.]

[Yuri doesn't speak or understand Russian, and your father doesn't speak or understand English.  This whole thing is going to go right over his head.]

[It's not about whether he understands; he just wants to be there.]

"Vitya..." Yakov sighed, [He's a sensitive kid.  I don't know if he can even handle this.]

[A skater with a heart made of glass.] Victor said aloud, smiling, [I won't let anything happen.  Konstantin won't get within ten feet of me.]

Yakov grumbled to himself, but then nodded, and headed back towards his car, "Get ready then, and let's go."

"Give me thirty minutes; I just woke up."  Victor said quietly, and shuffled back to the bedroom to do as told.  Once finished, he moved to grab his coat and scarf, and went to join where Yuri had been waiting outside, keeping Yakov company while they all waited.  Yuri piled into the car as Victor locked their front door.  The dog watched them go from the living-room window, looking on as though heartbroken.

"Poor guy..." Yuri said sadly, seeing the brown poodle disappear as the car moved on, "We just got back and now we're leaving him behind again."

"He's in his own house though so it'll be fine.  He'll go to sleep until we get back." Victor said, "This shouldn't take long anyway.  We're only going to get an address."

"I really did try to get him to skip this nonsense and tell me," Yakov pointed out.

"I’m fairly certain I already know where it’s going to be." Victor retorted, seeking comfort in his partner while they traveled, “He’s just making it hard.”

Yakov noticed and grunted a little to himself, "If you do that in front of him, he may knock Katsuki's block off as well as yours."

"We already have a plan..." Victor grumbled, "While we're there, Yuri is just my student again."

"Do you plan on taking your rings off?"

The pair looked mildly offended, and both said, "Absolutely not."

Yakov grunted in annoyance, "Do so at your peril.  This is Russia.  Most of the older generation is deeply conservative.  Putin's revival of the Russian Orthodox Church has made a lot of people all too happy to stoke the fires of their old intolerances.  Mila told me that she warned you in Barcelona to keep your situation quiet.  She wasn't just saying that to worry you."

"...I know, I know."

"And I know that you spent a great deal of effort at the RSF conference trying to hide Yuri's ring so people wouldn't pay it much attention."

Victor groaned and dropped his head back against the seat.

"The only thing protecting you from the worst of it is the fact that you are what you are, and you've honored Russia with your talents." Yakov continued, "But Katsuki isn't famous, and he isn't Russian either.  And if either of you end up in a situation where you're surrounded by people who don't know anything about skating, you could both get seriously hurt."

Yuri nervously turned his ring around on his finger, moving it up to the knuckle and then down again as the two Russians fussed at each other.  He felt like a fly on the wall, as he often did when Victor talked to anyone on the Russian team when he was around.

"We're not going to be there long enough for anything to happen."

"Ah Vitya..." Yakov lamented, "The fact that he insists on meeting with you himself means this isn't going to be just a quick exchange."

Victor whined loudly, "...I want today to be over already..."

It was a horrible 35 minute drive, but when they finally pulled up to stop, it had felt more like eternity.  A block away was the entrance to the Summer Garden in the center of the city.  There were a few dozen people wandering around, but most of them were on the move, so it didn't look like anyone was waiting...for them, or anyone else.

"Konstantin said he'd be at the Ivan Krylov Monument." Yakov explained, gawking at the two as they looked around for anyone suspicious, "He may be huge, but you won't see him from here."

"So you've seen him recently?" Victor puffed.

"No, but I doubt he's changed since the last time I did."

Grudgingly, the two in the back seat finally emerged, and the group made their way to the park.  For such a dour circumstance bringing them there, Yuri still thought it was a nice place to see.  They passed along the long sidewalk with the massive wrought-iron fence - black of bar and trimmed in gold - until they passed within its huge gates.  Inside, Yuri marveled at the fountains, and walkways decorated with marble statues, even though the landscape was blanketed in snow and nothing was turned on. 

"The statues were brought here from Italy by Peter the Great." Victor explained, seeing the sparkle of wonder in his fiancé's eyes, "But most of them are modern replicas.  The real ones were moved somewhere else to protect them."  He leaned closer to point to their left, "Over there is Peter the Great's Summer Palace."

"This place makes Japan look..."

"Different." Victor said, cutting him off before he could say anything else.

"Yeah."

"You said that Hasetsu Castle was just a tourist trap with no historical value." Victor continued, "Maybe we should go touring the real historical Japan one day?"

"We should come back here during the summer, too." Yuri suggested; he'd almost let himself forget why there were there in the first place.

"I can see him." Yakov said, stopping in place where he'd lead the duo to that point, "Wait here."

Victor abruptly turned around, keeping his back to the direction his coach was walking. 

Yuri watched him quietly, but then looked past, seeing where Yakov was going, and hoped to catch the first sight of this relic from Victor's past.  It was hard to see from their vantage, but Yuri thought he could see a dark blob rising from a bench near the monument.  He squinted to try and see better, "...Well, I think he's bigger than Yakov...but it's hard to tell from here..." 

Victor's half-hidden eye twitched under where his bangs covered them, "That's nice."

A minute or two passed in tense silence, and Yuri watched the approaching pair, occasionally looking back to his partner - and his trembling stance.  He’s way bigger than Yakov…

"Vitya."

Yuri looked at the man with terrified curiosity, wondering how in the world he and Victor could possibly be related.  Well over six feet tall – maybe even seven - the man looked half an ox.  Thick, wind-burnt, a closely-cut beard that was dark as coal, but salted with grey...and those pale, slate-blue eyes peering through it all.  He wore a long, dark, smoke-grey coat and a brimmed hat similar to Yakov's, and a clean but obviously-long-owned suit and tie.

Their eyes, Yuri thought to himself, Victor has his father's eyes.  His mother must’ve been beautiful…

"Victor."

Yuri could see his partner cringe at the sound of the voice, and he slowly turned his head to peer back over his shoulder.  Victor refused to say anything in response though.  He could only manage a half-turn, keeping his side-face to the man, his hands clenched in his coat pockets as the wind swirled in short gusts, whipping scarves and coats all around.

[Who's the runt?] Konstantin asked the coach.

[Yuri Katsuki, a skater from Japan that Vitya's coaching.]

[Why's he here?]

[Never you mind that.] Victor answered for himself, [Let's get this over with.  You apparently have something for me.]

The large, husky man took a step forward, and Victor instinctively took one away in turn.  Yuri could feel the tension rising like water in a sinking ship.

[Scared?]

[You nearly blinded me last time we met.  I'd rather not try that again.]

Konstantin laughed at that; a barreling thunderous laugh, [I bet you would.  King Queer and all, you need both eyes to keep on dancing.]

[I didn't come here to trade insults.  You said you would only give up the address to my mother's funeral if I showed up myself, so here I am.  Let's have it.]

[You refer to her like she's some alien.] The older, gruff man said sharply, [Do you even really want to be there when we put her in the ground?]

[I wouldn't have bothered coming all this way if I didn't really want to be there.  You always said the Bible commanded my obedience anyway, so why are you questioning it?]

[You were never much of a believer, Victor.  Too busy worshiping the ice.]

[The address.]

Konstantin held up his right hand, and pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his coat, [It's in here.]

Victor's eyes twitched in bitterness at the gesture, realizing he'd have to get closer to his father to get the information. 

Yuri could see it, and stepped up to his partner's side in a gesture to continue moving forward in his place, "Do you want me to...?"

"No." He answered firmly, and put his left arm out to keep Yuri behind him, "You stay there.  I don't need you getting involved in my fights."

[The hell are you saying?  Talking in Moonspeak now?]

[It's English.  How else do you think I can coach a foreign athlete?  We all speak English.]

[That's nice of you.]

Victor's eyes narrowed, "Dois-je plutôt parler en français?" (Should I speak in French instead?)

His father bristled a little, [The weak language of fairies.  I recognize that one.  I'm not surprised you know it.]

[Put the envelope on the ground and leave.  You'll see me again at the funeral, if you're even there.]

[I wouldn't be the one giving you the address if I wasn't going.] Konstantin pointed out, but refused to move his hand, or the envelope, one inch, [You'll take it from me if you want it at all.]

Victor grit his teeth, unsure how to proceed.  His father took another step forward, and he himself took yet another step back.  The envelope was right there in between them, held at the limits of Konstantin's reach.  Instead of cautiously stepping closer though, Konstantin just barreled forward, closing the distance until he rammed the envelope into the center of Victor's chest with a speed that surprised all three of them.  Victor had his hands out of his pockets then, holding them up in a defensive posture as he stumbled over his own feet in shock at the sudden advance.  He didn't fall though, and held his ground.

"...Victor!" Yuri blanched, reaching out without thinking.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE." He barked, not taking his eyes off the huge man in front of him.

Both skaters were on edge, and for the next few seconds, no one moved.  Even Yakov was unsure what to do, so he stayed put as well.

It only took a second or two for Konstantin to notice the gold shine on his son's finger, and his eyes glanced over to where Yuri had his hands up as well, seeing a matching ring there.  The huge pale hand that was flat to Victor's chest - with the envelope still pressed between them - suddenly clenched, grabbing the front of Victor's sweater in turn.  With supernatural strength, Konstantin yanked him unexpectedly closer; it was enough to make Victor, despite being 5'11", look like a small child.

Yuri acted on blind instinct after that, and jumped into the fray to try and put himself between his fiancé and the man who'd grabbed him.  He pushed and shoved, hands against the bear’s huge frame as he pushed Victor away with his back, "Don't hurt him!!" He pleaded, "Let Victor go!"

"Yuri get out of there!" Yakov called.

It was too late though.  Yuri's flailing was like a fly on a horse's backside, and it just annoyed the huge man.  Konstantin reached his left hand under where his right had grabbed his son, and yanked Yuri clean under it to hold him up on the other side.  Cold slate eyes glared at him, like they could stare straight into his skull and bore a hole into his brain.  Konstantin just sneered, and literally threw Yuri away without a word; he landed with a crunch in the snow and skidded several feet more before coming to a painful stop.

"Yuri!" Victor cried out, about to kick but getting a sudden rough shake to stop him.

[I thought I could forgive you for wanting to be a dancer instead of a man.] Konstantin said, his voice quiet and deep, [Since you had apparently done so well, and become King of all the Fairies.  But this...]  His huge left hand grabbed Victor's right arm by the wrist and yanked it up, glaring past the ring, [...This is unforgivable.  This is exactly what I said you'd become if you skated.  You shame us all.]

The grip was so tight, Victor thought his arm would break like kindling.

[Konstantin, I'll call the police if you don't put him down.] Yakov warned, [You swore you wouldn't lay a finger on him if I brought him here.]

[I'm not going to hurt him.] The gruff man snarled, doing everything he could not to crush Victor where he held him, [But our Father commands that men who lie with other men should be put to death.  He also commands us to beat our children if they are disobedient.  I should kill him.]

[Konstantin Nikiforov!  That's enough!]

Victor's father shoved him back so hard that he couldn't stay on his feet; he collapsed backwards and spun over himself before finally landing on his stomach in the slush and snow.  The crumpled envelope fell onto the walkway between them, and Victor's left eye twitched nervously behind his bangs.

[Come to the funeral tomorrow, or don't, I don't care.  My son died as a boy, but Tatiyana deluded herself into thinking you were him in the flesh.  For her, I gave you this last gift, but that's it.  After tomorrow, if I see you again, I'll kill you.]

Yuri finally collected himself and slowly struggled over to Victor's side.  Victor cringed as he tried to push himself up to sit as well.  Konstantin snarled at the both of them, spat a wad at Yuri's face, and then kicked snow over the both of them before finally leaving.  He passed Yakov without another word, and without looking back.

Yakov scrambled over to Victor, "Vitya, are you...?"

He was too busy using his cold, wet scarf to wipe the spit off his fiancé's face to answer.  He shook terribly as he did so, and Yuri tried to avoid letting him get his own clothing even more dirty for his sake, and tried to rub the wet spot off on his own sleeve.

"I should never have let you come." Victor finally said, and dropped his arms to his lap, "You didn't need to see that."

"Are you okay!?  Are you hurt!?" Yuri was too worried about physical harm than his own emotional state, and he grabbed Victor's shoulders to try and shake him out of his stupor, "Victor!"

The Russian just looked at his hands where they'd fallen to his lap, his clothing wet from the snow, the cold seeping in.  His fingers were starting to turn pink from exposure, but all he could think to do was use them to grasp at Yuri's coat and pull him close, and buried his face against the crook of his partner's neck.  

Yuri wrapped his arms around the man and held him for a while...and Victor cried.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Victor choked on the occasional breath, even as they finally got him back home.  Yuri helped get him onto the couch while Makkachin ran back and forth around them - sensing the tension but unsure how to react - given he was still excited everyone was back to begin with.

Yakov closed the door behind them, and stepped quietly into the livingroom directly inside the front door, "Vitya, do you want me to look through this before you do?" He asked, holding up the envelope.

Victor nodded, unable to form coherent words.  Yuri had gone to the linen closet to find towels, trying to get Victor as dry as he could until the man was willing to change; his clothes and jacket were soaked through and filthy from snow and dirt.

Yakov used a letter-opener on a nearby desk to start opening the letter.  Inside was a single sheet of torn notepad paper with an address scrawled in Cyrillic text, which the coach set aside, knowing it was the location of the next day's somber event.  He also found another, normal-sized mailing envelope - which was sealed with old, faded tape - as well as a few photos.  The handwriting on the sealed envelope was different from that which was on the notepad paper, and Yakov could only assume it was Victor's mother's.  He set that aside as well to look at the photos, trying to flatten them out again to get a better look in the dim light of the room.  It was obvious that the photos were twenty or so years old; worn and faded, and showed a much younger woman than the one that had died in the preceding days, with a young child.  They both had silver-grey hair, though it was hard to tell given how faded some of the colors were.  Yakov started to set the photos on the computer-table where Victor could see them, and red-tinted eyes looked over.  He peered past where he held his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, to see what was in store.

He recognized them.

"Is that...your mom?" Yuri wondered quietly; he picked up one photo after another, glancing at them before passing them off to his partner.

"Da." He; he and rubbed his nose and snuffled a breath, "She was probably...early to mid thirties here." 

"It's easy to see who you take after." Yuri said, trying to lighten the mood, and Victor did smile despite himself, “After seeing the Hulk out there, I had a feeling it wasn’t his side of the family you got your good looks from.”

"These are all from before I got into skating." Victor pointed out, looking through the five photos before him, "There's nothing from after I turned ten, for sure.  My father was never the sort of man to take pictures, so these early ones of me and my mama were probably taken by my un-"  He abruptly stopped himself, “…Someone else.”

Yakov looked up from the second latter, and turned an eye aside when he heard the words.  Victor had stopped and shook his head, moving on without elaborating, so the elder coach went back to the letter.  It was easily three pages long, and Yakov had one hand over his chin as he scrolled through the hand-written text.  When he was done, he realigned the papers so they'd be in the right order, folded them back into the smaller white envelope, and put it on the table with the pictures, "Wait to read this until you've had some time to decompress, Vitya." He said, keeping his hand over top of the folded paper until those pained eyes looked at him, "I imagine you won't be interested in skating for a few days either, so I don't mind if you don't come to practice while this all settles down." The coach went on, and rose back up to his full height, "But you know where to find me if you need anything."

"Thank you for everything, Yakov, and sorry for dragging you back into this mess.  I'm sure you had enough of it back then...now it's all coming up again." Victor added quietly, and rose to stand and show the man outside again.  They exchanged a few more words in Russian before Victor closed the front door, and kept his hand flat on it as he heard the Mercedes turn on outside.  It roared for a moment, then faded away in the seconds after.  He then slowly shuffled back to the couch where Yuri was still looking at the pictures.  He grabbed the envelope with the three folded pages and sat down, still damp and cold, and pulled the papers out to read them.  He slouched and pulled one knee up to half-cross his legs, and looked at the papers without unfolding them just yet.

Yuri reached over and stroked some of that silver hair, "You don't have to read it now if you don't want to."

"Yeah..." The Russian agreed, too anxious for the task, "All I want right now is to get out of these clothes and warm up."

"...Can I do anything to help...?"

"Go pull a bath, would you?" He asked, and tilted his head back to look at his partner, "It's not Yu-Topia, but we can still soak for a while, right?"

"Yeah…" Yuri answered, and kissed the man's forehead before standing to go do as he'd been asked.  He was barely around the corner when he turned about-face and came back again, looked at Victor, and swiped the letter from the man's mitts before he had a chance to unfold it. 

Victor didn't argue, though he was a bit dumbfounded that Yuri would take it from him either way.  But, he smiled at the understanding that Yuri was just trying to protect him.  Before long, he was submerged up to his chin in hot water, and the memory of earlier in the afternoon started to melt away.  Yuri tossed the wet clothes into a separate hamper for later, and came back to sit on the edge of the large tub.  He reached for a washcloth, folded it, and then set it on top of his fiancé's head.

"It's not exactly Yu-Topia, but I guess it's close." Yuri said.

The room was fairly large, with the tub and shower taking up the entirety of the far side.  Opposite, across a field of black and white hexagonal tiles, was the vanity, with a raised counter-top basin for a sink, shelving with wicker baskets underneath, and walls with mostly white hexagonal tiles going up halfway to the ceiling.  Scattered within were a few grey or green tiles, leading to light-gray painted wall up to the top, and an array of hanging lights.  A large window above the vanity with frosted glass let light pour in from outside.  And, of course, a modern white throne on the wall opposite the door, partnered with a simple black chair that had a coat-rack built into one side.

"...There is one thing missing." Victor pointed out nonchalantly, and pushed himself up a little bit so his arms and shoulders were above the water.  He propped his elbows up onto the sides of the basin and laced his fingers together, giving Yuri a bit of an elementary look, "Can you guess what it is?"

Yuri started listing things off on his fingers, "...Mood lighting, stone masonry, that fountain in the middle, the giant red kabuki demon-mask on the wall, a bunch of old men in small towels, uhh..."

Victor huffed a laugh and leaned over, and wrapped one arm around his partner's waist before he dragged him - fully clothed - down into the tub with him.  The overflowing water spilled over the edge of the tub, and flooded the floor as Yuri protested in surprise.  With the deed done though, there wasn't much Yuri could do about it anymore; he managed to keep his socks dry though - small victories – and most of the water escaped through a drain in the tile floor.

"There," Victor said proudly, "Now it's perfect."

Yuri settled in and relaxed in the man's grip, and things once again started to feel like they were on the mend.  There was that nag at the back of his mind though that they were far from done with the situation.

True to his fear, Victor brought it all back around again.

"I'm not taking you with me tomorrow."

"Bu-" The water splashed a little where Yuri whipped his head around.

"No.  I forbid it." Victor said flatly, not moving a muscle, "I should have fought harder to prevent you from seeing what happened today, too.  I'm sorry that I didn't.  If you really want to help me...the best thing you can do is be there for me when I get back."

Yuri wanted to fight it, but in that moment, he felt that he didn't have a horse in that race.  He just furrowed his brow and tilted his head against his partner's shoulder, even with the water there making his hair wet.  It mattered so little compared to everything else.

"Yakov and I will deal with this on our own, and then I want to go back to how we were before.  Whatever questions you might once have had about my family...forget them.  You're my family.  You already know the only important bits about my past that matter anyway."

"...Can Yakov protect you from that man?"

"If my father tries something, I don't think anyone can stop him." Victor admitted, "But that's not going to be an issue.  I'm ending things tomorrow.  Whatever happens...it'll be the last thing that happens.  I promise."

"You forget promises sometimes..."

"Never something this important."

.

Yuri felt uncomfortable and helpless all day and night afterwards.  Victor had done everything he could think of to put his mind at ease, but it wasn't enough.  Even the hard-won katsudon seemed like a hollow victory when presented under those circumstances.  It truly didn't help that Victor had finally gone to read the letter - and was gone for the better part of two hours, right-smack in the middle of the night - unwilling to return to bed or even discuss what it said.  Yuri later watched him burn it, as well as the photos, and the envelope everything had come in.  Even the address was rendered to ash, though Yuri supposed it was because Victor recognized it, and never actually needed it to know where to go.

He must really want to forget, Yuri thought to himself, and crossed arms as he leaned against a wall, watching in silence.  To erase even the good memories from before everything went so wrong...  This is all a side of Victor that he probably never thought he'd have to reveal to me.  But even with everything that I've seen, he still refuses to explain what caused it to be this way...  What happened to you, Victor?  Why was your family torn apart?

When it was finally time to go, Victor took his partner to the ice rink to leave him with the rest of the Russian skate team.  He knew Yurio would be there at least, even if no one else was.  The last thing he wanted was for Yuri to be by himself while everything was coming to a head.

"...You want me to babysit your boyfriend?" Yurio asked, incredulous, "Do I get paid for this?"

Victor huffed a laugh and shook his head, "No, but I'll really appreciate it?"

Yuri just watched the pair, and sighed to himself, "If I knew it was going to be like this, I would’ve kept my big mouth shut…”

When it seemed like the Russian duo finally come to an agreement, Victor pulled his fiancé aside.  He took the man's hands in his own and squeezed them reassuringly, but held there waiting for a moment before doing something that made Yuri’s heart sink into his stomach. 

"I thought I'd never take this band off again, after we got the etchings..." He started, and reached for his finger to gently slide his ring away.  Sighing, he kissed the gold, looked at the half-snowflake engraving on the inside of the band, and put it carefully into the palm of Yuri's hand, making a point to close his partner's fingers overtop of it before encapsulating the whole hand with both of his own.

Yuri was entirely confused; his chest and throat started to hurt immediately.

"I need you to keep this safe for me." Victor finally explained, "The last thing I need is for my father to try and take it away, and throw it into the woods.  I would never forgive myself if I allowed that to happen when I knew I could protect it, and you're the only one I trust to hold onto it until I'm back.  You understand?  If it's with you, I know it's safe."

Yuri nodded, though he shook as he did so, "I-I understand..."  He said warily, and moved to take the ring and put it onto his left middle finger; the only place it was like to fit, "I'll keep it here until you come to collect it."

Victor smiled - a sad, but relieved smile.  His heart felt heavy with the guilt of having to leave the ring behind, but he knew...he rationalized...everything said it was the right thing to do.  He noted the odd perplexity of hoping his father would try to take the ring now, just so he could have the satisfaction of seeing the look on the bear’s face when it wasn’t there to take from him.

"Please don't get hurt." Yuri pleaded.

"I don't plan on it." Victor said, and nodded.  He leaned in close to kiss his fiancé lightly, brushing his cheek with a thumb.

Yurio watched quietly from where he'd previously been standing, but turned his head abruptly to avoid getting an eyeful.  The sight of their affection still made him uneasy.  When Victor finally started to leave, seeing Yakov pulling up just outside, Yurio held his ground.  Yuri stepped up next to him silently, watching the pair enter the car.  He snuffled a little.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" The blond wondered pessimistically.

"You don't even know what he's about to do."

"I know that whatever it is, it bothers him less than it bothers you, so you crying doesn't make any sense."

"...Phichit-kun said the same thing at Four Continents."

"Fit-bit-coon?"

"Phichit Chulanont.  The Thai skater I used to train with when I was in America." Yuri answered, "He was at the GPF.  How can you forget it?  He was bright red and gold and shiny."

"I don't watch most of the other skaters." Yurio shrugged, "I only really watch the ones that I have to worry about being contenders for the podium."

Yuri deadpanned, "That's cruel."

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're bawling over someone else's problems."

"It's not that uncommon for people to share in each other's burdens when they care about one another." Yuri gawked at the Russian Punk, "Like how Victor helped carry your burden when your grandpa was in the hospital."

"That was different."

"It's not entirely different."  Yuri looked through the glass doors to see Yakov's car pull away, and the butterflies started to rise in his gut.  He hated that he only knew the 'event' started at 3, but not having a clue when it would end or when he could expect Victor to return...that was killing him.  All he had was a ring, and a promise to come back and get it.

"Let's go skate." Yurio said suddenly, pulling his Japanese counterpart from his thoughts, "There's no sense worrying about it until there's something to worry about."

Sighing, Yuri followed him back through the locker rooms, put on his skates, and went out onto the ice.

By 7pm, there was still no word, and Yuri had done basically nothing other than skate slow laps since 5.  Yurio had even done his entire new Short Program, but Yuri was so distracted in his mind that he'd missed it completely.

Then 8 o'clock rolled around, and still nothing.

Then it was 9 o'clock, and Yurio had to offer to let Yuri come back to his place for a while, "Unless you want to spend the night alone or something." He grumbled.  When Yuri didn't answer, the teen rolled his eyes and stepped out of the locker-room to wait in the foyer.

Yuri moved at a glacial pace to get his skates off and organize his backpack.

"YOU SURE ARE TAKING YOUR SWEET TIME IN THERE." Yurio yelled from the exit.

Yuri felt a fire under his butt after that and started to hurry; he threw the pack on and rushed to the doors, “We’ll have to stop by the house to feed Makkachin before we go to your place.”  He said, pulling the backpack up higher onto his shoulder where it started to slip.  As they rounded the last corner before leaving the arena, Yuri looked outside to see the familiar headlights of a Mercedes pulling up.  He barreled out the doors and ran up to the sidewalk's edge, relieved – but also terrified - to finally see the car.  When it stopped, and the engine turned off, Yakov was the first to get out, "What took you guys so long!?  I thought you were stranded or worse!" He cried out in a nervous panic.  He could see Victor's outline in the front passenger seat, but for the most part, he was covered in dark shadows from the car, and didn't move right away.

Yurio came up next to Yuri, curious, "Why isn't he getting out?"  He looked to his coach, "Yakov...?"

"It's been a long day." Was all the tired older man could say.

Yurio noticed his coach had something of a scrape on his chin, and his long-coat had what looked like dried mud caked to it, and he raised a brow at it, "Did you fall...?"

Yuri went around the other side of the car and moved to pull open the door for his fiancé, anxious to give him back his ring and go back to how things were, just as the Russian had said.  Then he looked at the man's hands where they were still held on his lap, and saw the cuts and scrapes on his right-side knuckles, "...Victor...?"

His face, from that side at least, looked entirely fine, and it added a certain air of mystery to what was already a mysterious situation.  Then the Russian finally started to move, reaching over to undo the seat-belt from its buckle, and got out of the car.  When he leaned down to avoid hitting his head on the door-frame, Yuri could see that something was weird about his hair.  It looked like it had been made wet and then dried without being brushed.  There were a few red streaks in his bangs as well, especially at the tips, which were a darker red-brown than elsewhere.

Yakov looked uneasy as he watched Victor rise back up to his full height, even as Yuri tried welcome him back.  When Yuri finally looked up again though, finally able to see past the bangs that covered the opposite side of his fiancé's face, he saw true 'rewards' of the afternoon's events.

The skin behind those filthy strands of silver-grey hair was a huge red spot; shiny, and swollen.  Further inspection lead Yuri to see that there were a few deep cuts around the eye socket and cheek, black in the dark of the night, and a single slate-blue eye looking back at him through a slit where the eyelid could barely open, surrounded by a pool of dark red where the sclera should have been white.  Whatever had gotten Victor's hair wet earlier had smeared the blood around his face and left faded, crusty red streaks down his chin and neck, which trailed down and vanished under the edge of a blood-stained scarf.

That gentle heart couldn't handle it.  Yuri could hear the ringing in his ears just micro-seconds before the edges of his peripheral vision started to go dark.  The world faded, and he felt the strength leave his legs. 

Everything became black, and he dropped where he stood.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

                Earlier...

It was a two hour drive north of St. Petersburg; his hometown was more like a hamlet than a rural pocket of modern civilization.  Victor barely remembered it, but the fog in his memory lifted as familiar sights came into view.  Victor was entirely unaccustomed to the kind of scenery that greeted him there; woods as far as the eye could see, and a single dilapidated village hidden in the trees.  Perhaps the area was more well-lived-in in the past, but it had clearly been let go in the intervening years.  The road was badly kept, the forest outgrew its boundaries, and what few dwellings remained were falling apart, if they were being used at all anymore.

People stared as the Mercedes pulled through, but it wasn't the adulatory stares of impressed and excited fans; it was the hard, stern, judging stares of people who wanted nothing to do with the modern world, and saw their arrival as a threat.  The village looked like a past moment caught in bad times, with a futuristic wonder-machine rolling through.

The funeral was set up on a small farm a minute further behind the town.  There were several cars there already.  Some were more modern - a white Hyundai Creta, a blue Toyota Prius, and a black AvtoVAZ Lada - which likely came from nearby cities, but most were old and worn down, looking like they were salvaged from the Soviet days.  Some people had even arrived on horseback, and their mounts were tied to fences or trees at the end of the dirt road leading to the small, derelict house on the hill ahead of them.  Yakov parked his well-kept 1985 Mercedes-Benz Brabus next to the Lada; as far away from the horses and their leavings as he could get without ending up in a ditch.

From the look of everything, Victor's modern lifestyle was miles apart from where his family had come from.  Dogs barked and ran around them as they parked and got out of the car, and the duo took in the smell of the countryside, like they'd just found themselves on another planet.

"It's been an age since I was out here last.  It's hard to believe these are your roots." Yakov said quietly, and stepped out ahead of the vehicle to walk with his athlete up the small, wet hill.  They could see a small crowd of people past the edge of the tree-line, where a small clearing gave way to what looked like a century-old family cemetery.

Victor was too busy scanning their surroundings for his father to notice anything else.  He eventually spotted Konstantin coming out of the hovel with two other men, though thankfully, neither was near as large as he was.  When the two of them caught sight of each other, Konstantin started calling for the group to gather around.  A scruffy Russian Orthodox priest was quick to follow out of the house shortly after that.

The hole had already been dug – it would’ve taken days of fire-burning above the soil to soften it enough to cut through - and a simple, white-painted wooden box was next to it.  There was a framed picture sitting on top of it with flowers all around.  The photo showed Victor's mother from years ago.  There probably weren't many photos taken after he'd left the family.  Tatiyana was a beautiful woman in her youth, and probably into her elder years as well.  Long, wavy, silver-grey hair cascaded over her shoulders and framed her face.  She had warm green eyes and a pale, soft complexion.  Truly a song-bird that married a monstrous, wild animal.

There were simple benches set up, and people started to sit down as Konstantin gave his little speech.  Victor kept his eyes down; he heard the words but didn't listen too hard to them.  People sitting nearby were whispering about him, turning their heads over their shoulders to gawk at him.  He wasn't sure if he was seen as some morbid curiosity returning home, or if they were even sure who he was.  He could only hope that his silver hair was enough to reveal who he was in relation to the woman about to be buried.  There were a handful of people around with similarly-colored hair to make it clear that he belonged on some level.

Yakov kept himself between Victor and the rest of the attendees, acting as a buffer in case there was trouble. 

Most of the whispers Victor heard seemed to be about the days prior, and insulting remarks about how the 'ungrateful son' hadn't bothered to come to help during that whole time. 

What was I supposed to do?  He thought angrily, I was in South Korea all weekend.  I only just found out yesterday where I was supposed to go.  There's no way I could've been here in time to help with anything.  He paused and shook his head.  ...Why am I even trying to justify this?  They don't know a thing about me.  They'd look at me like a carnival side-show if I tried to explain it.

He hadn't had the courage yet to look at the head of the coffin, where he could barely see the fluff of the blankets and pillows that made-up the 'new living-room' his mother was to be interred in. 

They must've done the funeral procession this morning,  Victor thought on.  Usually those things take hours...how long had they been finished and waiting for me?  Did Konstantin deliberately give me the wrong time so I'd show up when it would make me look bad?  Or maybe he just wanted to be sure I'd be here for the least amount of time.

People started to stand and approach the coffin, placing things inside it as they passed and started to wail.  When it seemed like it was Victor's turn, he stood and followed the line.  Anxiously, slowly, he approached the coffin, and for the first time since he was a boy, looked upon the face of the woman who had given him life.

He barely recognized it.  The accident – such as it was; he hadn’t been told how she died - had done extensive damage.  But her hair...washed, combed, set with flowers...he knew it well.  Silver-grey just like his, long and wavy, it framed the battered woman's head, neck, and shoulders before disappearing under the edge of the blanket. 

Hidden in his pocket, Victor withdrew a small gift.  A small wedge of brie and a bag of candied pecans.  He placed them near her right shoulder, alongside dozens of other gifts of food, money, and precious heirlooms that other members of the family had already left behind.  With his hand already there, he dared to touch the woman, even if only to assure himself that she wasn’t a ghost.  He felt her soft hair on his skin…and that was enough.  He pulled his hand back again.  He noticed that the priest was giving him dirty looks though, and he moved on to sit with Yakov while the 'seeing off' ceremony began.  The priest put a paper crown on Tatiyana's head, and Konstantin returned with the two men from before to nail the coffin lid down; one of them, with the deceased’s same pale-green eyes, kept looking over at him, but Victor didn't notice.  A few minutes later, the coffin was in the pre-dug hole, and people returned up to toss dirt and coins down onto it, symbolically uniting the deceased with the earth, and paid for her transit into the next world.

A horse whinnied at the bottom of the hill, and Victor lifted his head, realizing most of the ceremony was over at that point.  Several people lamented loudly nearby, sobbing openly...be he couldn't bring himself to evoke anything close to that level of sadness.

He thought back on the contents of the letter.

Victor...

I don't know that we will ever speak to one another again, but if it ever comes to pass that you get this letter, you should know that I still love you, as any mother could love her only son.

There was mournful singing all around him; songs of family life, leaving to ascend to heaven, and other such melodies.  If nothing else, Russians were loud at funerals.  Most of them, anyway.

Victor stood to approach the mound of dirt that had replaced the hole.  He kept his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the freshly turned earth, trying to think back on the happier times from his long-gone childhood.  There were a few years, after all, before he developed his love for skating, where his family seemed relatively normal.  It hadn't really occurred to him until years after his departure that things were so specifically structured as they had been.  His mother stayed home, his father did manual labor, and their life was simple.

He recalled one particular winter; the ice had frozen rather smoothly at the local pond.  He was five, maybe a little younger, and had found the slippery surface to be the greatest thing he'd ever known.  Even with the snowdrift and only his boots to slide on, it was tremendous fun.  At the time, when his father had condemned his mirth and made him get back onto the banks, he thought that it was because the ice was dangerous.  He would sneak out with his mother to play on it though anytime Konstantin was gone for the day.

It was his mother that got him his first make-shift skates.

His mind went blank after that; he closed his eyes and tried to push the memories out.  He then heard footsteps behind him, but for some insane reason, he thought it was Yakov, since no one said anything.

"Vitya...!" Yakov's voice rang up; it was further away than Victor had expected. 

His eyes went wide with realization, but then half-narrowed when he felt the ice-cold trickle of a liquid being poured over the top of his head.  His left eye twitched nervously, feeling the...whatever it was dribbling down the sides of his face, behind his ears, down his neck, and into his clothing.  He was paralyzed though, aside from how he trembled.  The pouring continued for a while.  When the last drips finally ended, the cold had made its way half-way down his chest, and made everything bitter cold.  He turned his eyes a little to the left see the shadow of Konstantin standing directly behind him.

[You made us wait.]

[We were here an hour before you even said to show up.  Whatever tardiness you're accusing me of is your own fault.]

[At least you had the sense to leave your wife behind.] Konstantin chortled.

Victor snapped.  The world was red.

He felt a searing pain in his right hand as he turned on his heel to cram his fist as hard as he could into the older man's face.  He felt the crunch of cartilage under the impact, and saw the droplets of blood that flew away as Konstantin wobbled a little.

"VICTOR!" Yakov yelled, "What are you thinking!?  Get out of there be-"

Konstantin was too large to put off balance by a little fly-peck like Victor's sucker-punch, and he easily reached out with one hand to grab him by the throat as the other came up to set his nose back into place.  Yakov came scrambling up to try and pull them apart, but Konstantin backhanded him in the jaw and sent him sprawling to the mud, then turned his attention back to the man in his grip.

He put his thumb over one of his nostrils, blew a snort to clear it, and then did the same with the other, [So at least you had some balls in the end.] The bear taunted, holding tight even as Victor tried to hit his arm for release, [But maybe it's just that, between you and your girlfriend, you had half a ball between you.  Did you borrow it to come out here?]

[...Yuri...is a better man than you ever were...] Victor struggled to say, trying to draw breath when he could, [You're just...an animal...!]

Konstantin shrugged, and used sheer brute force to force Victor down to his knees by his neck.  That massive bear-arm came up after that, and Victor would only watch in horror as the world turned to slow motion.  He felt the first crack against his eye socket, but not the second, and he went sprawling to the ground.  Searing pain shot through his entire body, and he felt a kick to his ribs, which pushed him a few feet further back on the grave mound.  His head spun as he quaked, but tried his best to see if anymore assaults would come.

"KON!" A new voice yelled, shrill and horrified, but still too far away to be helpful at all.

The bear just looked at the broken heap in front of him, and moved to pull the large flask from his coat pocket again; he took a sip before he poured the remains onto Victor's head again.  The alcohol made Victor's eye burn, and he moved his hand up to try and protect it, pulling it away only to see blood everywhere.  He couldn't hear the sound of foot-falls rushing through the snow and mud to get to him; he could barely hear himself, [What do you want from me!?] He barked weakly, refusing to look up at the man.

[Nothing.]

[Do you get some sick pleasure from watching me suffer, then!?] Victor argued, and tried to push himself back to his feet, but found it difficult with his head spinning like it was, [Do you like inflicting pain on others!?]

[What are you doing, Kon!?] The second voice came up again, this time much closer.  The footsteps ended right between Victor and the bear, and the darkly-clad figure lifted his arms up to the side, [You're desecrating Tat's grave with this!  What's wrong with you!?]

[What's wrong with me?] Konstantin echoed, [What's wrong with him?] He asked instead, and gestured at the downed 'child.'

Victor was incensed, [...I never did anything to deserve this...] He said, still struggling; his jacket and pants were filthy with the freshly dug dirt, and made worse by the blood falling freely from the deep cuts on his left cheek.

Konstantin just howled with laughter at that, [You never did anything?  You've spent every day of the last twenty-something years insulting this family with your ridiculous prancing about on the ice.] He harped angrily, not even needing to tilt his frame to look around the skinny figure between him and his son.

[Are you his coach!?] The second man asked, looking towards Yakov as the man still struggled to get up the hill, [Get up here and help carry him!  He can't walk on his own!]

[So what!?] Victor went on, heedless to the other conversation, [So I can't knock down trees with my fists or scare wolves away with my voice.  Who cares!?]  He yelled, able to get up by holding tightly to the statue-headstone behind his mother's grave, [I love what I do and I'm more successful than you ever were.  My name is recognized around the world!!  I have enough money that I can retire today and be well-off until I'm too old to care anymore!]

[And what have you done with all that success?] Konstantin wondered odiously, [Kept it to yourself.  You come back here with all your nice clothes, chauffeured by a man in a black Mercedes, showing off to all these people who've broken their backs to put food on the table for their families...and all you did was, what...exactly?  Strippers do the same thing, selling their bodies for the world to gawk at.  There's nothing honorable about what you do.  Nothing noble.]

Victor grit his teeth, [I'm not a stripper.  I'm an ATHLETE.  Figure skating is an Olympic sport for fuck's sake!]

[You perform for visual appeal, not skill.]

The battered silver pressed his fingers to the wounds, and pulled back a bloodied mess.  He could feel himself starting to slip down again; he couldn't keep a grip on the statue anymore, [What...what do you want from me...?] He asked again; pleaded, [I came all this way...to say goodbye to my mother, and you've just...tortured me this entire time.]

[I already told you.  I don't want anything from you.] The bear shrugged, [Tatiyana asked me once that if anything ever happened to her, that I would find a way to tell you.  I'm a man of my word and I did as she asked.  That's all.]

[I'm sure she'd be proud of you for what you've done since getting me here.]

[It doesn't matter what she thinks anymore.  She's gone.]

[I wish it was you instead...] Victor said quietly, tears stinging in his eyes.  The left was really starting to throb.

Yakov knew that was the end of it, and he moved in to gather his athlete.  The man who'd stepped between the pair helped lift Victor back up to his feet, and walked a few paces around to be sure they were clear of Kon's reach, then backed off to let them go on their own.  Konstantin just watched them without a word. 

As the two made it half-way down the hill, Victor planted his heels, and turned once more to glare hatefully at the man who had sired him, [I never want to hear from you again.] He said stiffly, [Don't ever find a reason to contact me.  Don't contact Yakov, or even the ISU for that matter.  I don't even want to hear about it when you finally die.]

[Just go back to your queer lover, Victor.  You're not welcome here.]

Victor's brow furrowed at that, but for some reason, all he could do was laugh at it.  Yakov thought the man had lost his mind and tried to shove him down the hill again, but still, Victor laughed, [His name is Yuri Katsuki...and soon, it's going to be Yuri Nikiforov!!  HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?]

[Victor I swear to God if you don't shut up and get in the car-] Yakov protested.

[He's going to be my husband and we're going to do all kinds of unspeakable things to each other!]

"VITYA!"

Konstantin just glowered at them, those hateful slate-blue eyes trained on the man he knew -  but refused to accept - as his son.  The man nearby to him - thin and well-dressed, with a flat-cap to cover wisps of silver-grey hair - watched and shook his head quietly.

Yakov shoved the bleeding man into the front passenger seat and slammed the door closed after him, then headed to the other side.  Despite the clamor, he pulled out calmly, not wanting to cause a scene in the little town as they practically fled from it.

It was a few miles down the road before Victor finally let himself accept that it was over, and he look at where the skin on his knuckles had been slashed on his father's nose.  Yakov pulled over briefly to pull a travel-size wrap of tissue from the glove box and threw it in Victor's lap. 

No matter how much he tried to dry his face though, the alcohol that saturated his hair continued to drip for a long time after, drawing new, faint red lines down his face and neck until he finally gave up.  He felt tremendous guilt and worry as they pulled back into St. Petersburg.  The weight of not knowing how badly Yuri would react was crushing him. 

But, when they finally got back to the skating arena and his young fiancé had fainted, Victor knew - in a weird, roundabout sort of way - it was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Victor moved to pick the unconscious man up in his arms and carried him inside, back the way Yuri and Yurio had just come, and set him down to rest on the benches just within the doors.  Yurio had wordlessly moved off to find the first aid kit and came back shortly thereafter, giving it to their coach so he could tend to Victor's wounds.

"I'm not even going to ask what the hell you got yourself into." Yurio said stiffly, "But please tell me you at least popped the other guy."

Victor smiled and looked at his ravaged knuckles, "...Well, I got him once, at least."

"That'll do."

Yakov cleaned the blood away with gauze and some peroxide, "You should see someone about stitches.  And an Xray."

"Not happening.  Stitches cause scars, and hospitals make records."

"But your eye..." Yakov argued, turning away to get some skin closures from the kit, "You won't be able to use it for a while.  It's the same side he hit last time."

"I know."

"Do you want to cancel your spot at Worlds?"

Victor shook his head, gently stroking Yuri's where he held it in his lap, "No, I'll be fine by then.  I'd rather go and be in last place than skip one more competition."

Yuri seemed to slowly rouse again, and he gradually opened his eyes, looking up blearily to where Victor was looking down at him.  The sight of his swollen, red eye made Yuri blanch again, but he pushed himself to sit, and really looked at it.  Victor's hair had been pulled back so Yakov could more easily clean and dress the wounds, so it was more striking than before - especially in the indoor light - but at least Yuri expected it so it didn't shock him as much as it had previously.

There were a thousand things Yuri wanted to say, but words weren't forthcoming.  All he could think to do was drape his legs off the opposite end of the bench and wrap his arms around his partner.  He leaned in to put his forehead on Victor's chest, and clung to it like he thought the man would slip through his fingers if he didn't.  Victor just held him in turn, quietly consoling him as Yakov finished putting the last of the paper-tape on the few cuts around his eye and cheek, "It's fine now." The battered Russian said in a whisper, "It's over..."

.

Yakov checked his vision several times with the good eye closed before grudgingly taking the two home.  Grumbling the whole while however, he made a point to drive by a hospital on the way, slowing down and going into the parking lot just to be sure he couldn’t convince the defiant man to go inside.  Victor adamantly refused.  The ride was relatively silent after that.  Yuri still had difficulty believing the injuries Victor had sustained.  Every time he glanced over at the man, he was looking at the right side of his face, and from that angle, looked perfectly normal...but then he'd see his right hand resting on his thigh, and saw the cuts and deep red scrapes on his knuckles, and he'd be reminded of how real it all was. 

I can never live this down... He thought, terrified, hands clenched on his lap, What have I done...?  I should've listened to him and just stayed out of it.

Victor glanced over quietly.  He really didn't know what to say.  Other than to complain about how much his cheek and eye hurt, as well as everything else that had been abused, he couldn't think of anything.  In his genius though, he managed to figure out some words, "...You're not going to ask what happened?"

Yuri's voice was already ragged and cracked, but he did his best to hide it anyway, "...I can see what happened.  What more is there to ask about?  I don’t need you to paint me a picture."

There was no answer for that, and Victor went quiet again.  He lowered his gaze to his battered hand; it unnerved him how much damage it took despite only landing one hit.  He flexed his fingers, feeling each tendon crack in protest, and for lack of knowing what else to do, he lowered his palm back to his partner's thigh.  He felt the man's whole body twitch in surprise, and he gave the spot a gentle squeeze, "I didn't want to make things worse." He said simply, "...I already scared you once because of an unexpected hospital trip.  I couldn't do it again."

"Tell me Yakov at least tried to make you go before you got to the rink."

"He drove me right up to the ER doors, and I told him if he didn't keep driving, I'd steal his car and make him walk home."

Yuri hissed an unwanted, tense laugh, and shook his head to make it go away.  The stinging pain in his eyes, nose, and throat was getting unbearable.  He knew he couldn't keep his bearings for much longer, and indeed, when he felt a finger trying to coax his locked-up fists to unravel, that first stuttered breath came loose, and all the tears he had dammed up behind it came with it.  He choked a breath and clenched his eyes shut, head held low in shame, fists balled-up even tighter than before, "You should never have listened to me." He managed, "I should have shut my big stupid mouth when you said you didn't want to go.  But you did anyway, because of me, and now you're hurt, and it's all my fault." He sobbed, and brought up his hands to his face, covering it as his whole body cringed, "I don't know how you can ever trust me again.  I nearly got you killed."

"Yuri, you didn't-"

"But I did though!" He barked despondently, and pulled away from the hand as far as he could, squashed against the passenger door like the car was filling with water, "I'm the dumb idiot who kept pushing for you to give it a chance, like I had any business commenting on what you went through as a kid!  If I had just taken your word for it and left well enough alone, we'd be in Hasetsu right now!"

"You thought it was the right thing to do.  Even Yakov was ready to give it a chance.  If we have to blame anyone here...it’s me."

"You were the only one who was right from the first..."

"And you told me you'd support my decision, whatever it turned out to be." Victor pointed out, hand still on that leg, though he did have to lean slightly for now, "How can you support me if you're taking all the blame for it onto yourself?" He asked, and finally caught sight of those terrified brown eyes, "You can't be responsible for what happened.  Only Konstantin can.  He could've just left well enough alone, let me make my peace, and let me leave again without getting into it with me.  Instead, he chose to antagonize me, insult and belittle me, and in the end, he tried to finish what he started fifteen years ago.  That's all on him.  I mean, it never even occurred to me that I should be upset at you for any of this." He reassured, grateful that they were close to home so they could go to bed and be done with it, "Yuri, I need you now...please don't pull away."

"How can you ever trust my judgment again after this?"

"Because you're smarter than I am, and you learn!" The silver answered easily, his one good brow furrowed; the other was paralyzed in place.  He exhaled a frustrated sigh at the continued doubt on his fiancé's face, and sat back in frustration as Yakov pulled into the drive-way.  The car hadn’t even come to a full stop before Victor threw himself from the driver's side, and rushed around the back of the Mercedes to get to his partner's door.  That panel was pulled away as well, and Victor quickly stepped in close, collapsing down to sit on the edge of the seat to unbuckle his fiancé's seatbelt and pull the sobbing mess to his shoulder.  This is pretty terrible, Victor thought bitterly, It's going to be even worse tomorrow when I'm all swollen.  "Come inside with me, Yuri." He asked quietly, and pulled back a little to try and see his devastated partner, putting one knee down on the frosted concrete, "We're done with that whole fiasco.  Let's go home."

Yuri's eyes were near as swollen as Victor's, but he managed a tepid nod though his shuddering.  He felt his fiancé's hand touch to his left, and he reached to pull the gold band from his middle finger.  Though he trembled, he was able to get the ring back onto its owner's finger, and despite the scrapes on those knuckles, he kissed them, and hugged the hand to his face. 

Victor extended those finger gently, and pressed them to his partner's wet face, trying to dry his tears, "Thank you for protecting it for me." He said quietly, and leaned inward to offer a grateful hug.

“Get inside and get cleaned up, Vitya.” Yakov said stiffly from the front seat, “If you listen to nothing else I say tonight, at least do that much.”

“…Yeah.” The silver agreed, and pushed to stand, offering his hands to help Yuri out of the car.  With that, he pushed the door closed again with the flat of his hand, and held there for a moment before patting the vehicle twice and stepped off.  Yakov waited until they were inside before he put it in reverse.

They hobbled into the house and gently calmed Makkachin down on the other side.  The pup was frantic, but the air around the duo subdued him quite a bit.  With all the lights on in the livingroom, Yuri prepared himself for what other injuries he was about to help address; Victor's long-coat was filthy with dirt, the scarf was discolored from blood and vodka, and the front of the jacket and the man's pants were spackled with streaks of red, as well as one large splotch of brown that had the vague shape of a boot.  Yuri swallowed a knot in his throat, and went silently about the task of disrobing himself from his winter gear.  Victor did the same nearby, but he went through the process quite a bit slower.

"Oof...  I'm going to be feeling this in the morning," He grumbled dryly, "Yuri, help get this sleeve off?" He asked, gesturing the cuff where his hand had barely retracted.  Yuri took it in his fingers, and Victor pulled his arm out, turned in place, and pulled his other arm free, "I'm just going to throw all of this away." He explained, dropping the coat into a heap on the floor, "I won't ever be able to wear any of this again without thinking of today."

"...I d-don't...blame you." Yuri replied softly, his voice too sore to be much louder, "Was Yakov h-hurt, too?"

"I think he got shoved." Victor answered unsurely, "It's all a blur at this point.  I just remember the blinding pain."

"And you're s-sure you don't want to see a doctor?  What if h-he broke something?"

"I'll see someone about my eye tomorrow, but not in an ER." He said firmly, "I have enough to worry about without people seeing me in this state because some schmuck with nothing better to do posts a photo of me in triage.  I'm not even sure what I’ll say to explain it."

"The t-truth?"

"Oh no, never." Victor answered instantly, "I never told anyone about my tribe for a reason, and I'm not about to start now.  Maybe a car accident?" He considered, and dropped his shirt and under-shirt to the floor with his coat and scarf.  He hadn't even thought about the kick to his gut before he saw the look on his partner's face, and he glanced down, spotting the big red scrape-marks just under his sternum and all around his ribs, "...Ah, hm.  I hadn't thought that one would've left a mark...at least not yet."

"He k-kicked you, didn't he?" Yuri quivered to ask, and dared to reach forward to press his cold fingers against the mark; it almost looked like a really bad rug-burn, "How many times?"

"Just the once."

Yuri balked and backed up, and covered his face again with his hands, "This is t-too much...  It's going to take s-so long to heal...  There's only a few weeks left u-until Worlds and y-you-"

"Yuri; calm...please...it's okay." Victor reassured, and stepped closer to hug the man again, "I'm home.  I'm with you again.  I know it's scary, but I'll heal just fine.  It's just going to take a bit of time."

"I just c-can't believe how badly he hurt you...  And all for what?  Why?" Yuri pleaded, "He's ten times your size!  What was the point!?"

"I asked the same thing," The silver grunted quietly, and backed up a bit with a hand over the sore gash on his front, "He didn't really give a good answer.  Just that I embarrassed the family.  Apparently being a figure skater is the same as being a prostitute."

Yuri's face twisted and his swollen eyes squinted, "What?"

"I don't know either."

.

Though mindful of his sore sports, Victor made sure to offer cuddles to both his person and his pup.  They were both asleep around him long before he himself felt tired, but he found the mercy of oblivion sometime around 3am, and woke again the next morning before the other two as well.  By the time Yuri roused, Victor had already made an effort to clean himself up a second time, though no amount of water and careful bang-combing could really hide the morning-after-effect of his injuries.  His head was throbbing on top of that, so keeping the lights dim made it that much harder to see anything.

He pulled his hair back in the end, and gave himself a good look in the mirror.  The paper-tape that had been used the night before was barely sticking anymore, and most of the tabs had already come loose, sticking out where they no longer held both edges of the gashes together.  His eye was completely swollen shut by that point.  He couldn’t even try to open it; the very idea sent a shock of pain through his face and he quit.  Trying to use tweezers to peel the tape off was a fool’s errand, too, since he couldn’t see well enough with the one remaining eye to do such delicate work.  He slouched over the basin in the bathroom, hands on the sink’s edge, seeing a few drops of diluted red fall into the drain where his shower had re-wet the open sores.

“Do…do you want some help?” Yuri’s voice asked from the side, and Victor looked up, only to realize he couldn’t even see the doorway unless he completely turned around.  The young skater looked pensive, but was doing his best to be brave, and Victor smiled as well as he could.

"It's pretty tender." He explained, "If you think you can manage it…yea, I could use some help."

Yuri nodded, and gestured for the man to sit in the black wooden chair nearby, “I gotta turn the lights up a bit.” He warned, giving the man a moment to prepare himself, then dialed the brightness until it was nearly at max.  He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, and made for the open First-Aid kit that Victor had already opened on the vanity.  He was hardly a nurse, but he knew enough to make do.  First though, he needed to get a better look at things, and he gently reached towards the silver’s face to turn it slightly, “…Jeeze, he really gave you a pummeling.  Victor, I…”

“I don’t want to hear about how sorry you are.” The silver cut him off, looking out his one good eye, “There’s nothing to be gained from it, and you’ll never get the satisfaction of hearing me say I forgive you when you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yuri frowned and sunk a little, but nodded, and went to find some cotton-balls and the alcohol.  Just a dab, and he ever-so-carefully touched it to the wounds.  Victor winced, naturally, but stayed put as well as he could, “…It's completely sealed shut.  We're supposed to take you to an eye doctor today.  Can you even see to drive us there?"

Victor nodded sorely, "I think I can manage.  I know the area pretty well.  I’ll just be more careful, and I’ll have you as my co-pilot anyway."

“I think it’ll be best just to put a patch over it for now.” Yuri explained, and went back to find a large wound pad and some long strips of gauze.  He worked gently and carefully, wrapping the gauze around the man’s head until the pad would stay in place on its own, “It’s not the sexiest you’ve ever looked, but it’ll have to hold for now.”

“Thank you, Yuri.”

He gave a sad smile, and lowered down to crouch on the floor, perching his hands on the Russian’s knees, and his chin on the back of his hands, “…I…should make Makkachin some breakfast.” Was all he could think to say, but stayed there a moment anyway, feeling a soft hand come down on his hair to gently pet it.  When the hand moved to touch his shoulder, he nodded again and pushed himself back up to his full height.  He turned slightly to head towards the door, but paused, looked back, and moved closer again, leaning down with a hand on one of Victor’s knees again to offer a kiss.  It seemed well-enough received, and didn’t cause the man to flinch, so he took it as a small victory and went about his task normally after that.

The pup was waiting by his food bowl in the kitchen, and Yuri quickly scooped some dry kibble into it, putting down fresh water as well.  By the time he was done, Victor had slipped a bathrobe over himself and crept quietly out of the bedroom.  It hurt to see how difficult it was for the normally-graceful Russian to struggle, but he supposed, "You probably feel like you got hit with like six trucks now."

"...At least six." Victor agreed, giving a light laugh, only to regret it instantly and clutched at the patch of purple-red under the folds of the fluff, "Maybe a troika, too.  The ones with the big draft horses."

"How did you sleep anyway?" Yuri pondered, "I feel like I was unconscious, but didn't really rest at all..."

"I'm there with you." Victor nodded, and shuffled into the kitchen to make some coffee.  He scooped some compacted some espresso grounds into the straining cup, then hooked it up into the machine.  While the steamer heated up, he reached for the fridge and the plastic bottle of milk kept inside, and poured it into a metal carafe, "You want some?"

"Absolutely." Yuri agreed early, "I've a feeling we'll both need it."

Victor smiled as well as he could, “Two double-tall lattés, coming right up.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY

Not even the mighty caffeine could stave off the need for a mid-day nap.  Moving to the bedroom had made sleep easier to capture though, and with tensions from the previous night released - at least tenuously - it was a much more relaxed atmosphere.

Victor's early-afternoon appointment was almost forgotten in the haze.  When Yuri started to wake up, he realized his t-shirt felt tight.  He reached one hand up to put a thumb under the edge of his night-mask and peeked around, only to find a big lump under his clothes, barely visible in the dimness of the room.  He quickly realized it was Victor though; he'd put his entire head under that shirt and settled his cheek against Yuri's tummy, right arm draped over him, and both holding onto him tightly.  Yuri dropped his head back down, settled the hand that had lifted his mask onto where Victor's head was under his shirt, and tried to go back to sleep.  For once, he didn't even care what time it was. 

Except when he suddenly did, and both eyes shot open, "The appointment!"

Makkachin trotted into the room as if on cue, and jumped up onto the edge of the bed.  The poof had actually brought his food bowl with him, and dumped it on Victor's side of the bed before sitting back down proudly, panting lightly as he always did.

"Meggershin...goway...yougoffoodareddy…" The Russian mumbled blearily, and raised the hand that was draped over his fiancé to try and wave the dog off.  Instead of the poodle, he found the food bowl, and nudged it off the edge of the bed to land somewhere on the floor.  The adamant boofer would not be dissuaded though, and barked once loudly as the bowl hit the ground, causing Victor to jerk with surprise and finally pull his head out from inside Yuri's shirt, "Makkachin I swear...!  You know the rules, one bork per day and none before noon!"

Makkachin seemed to understand the rules just fine, and jumped up onto the bed with a muffled half-bark; it was 12:27pm.  He flopped down on Yuri's side and set his head on the man's chest, putting himself nose-to-nose with his tired human as Victor dove back inside his partner's clothes.  That big pink tongue jiggled lightly with the poodle's happy pants, but he soon lifted his head again to piffle-whine a second time.

"I think it's afternoon." Yuri commented, "It's time for snackies."

"Mmmhhh...." Victor grumbled feebly. 

"We should get ready to go."

"Quit playing; you don't know what time it is." He grumbled.

Yuri raised one hand lazily into the air and pointed, "That is correct, sir."  And then dropped it behind his head.  He could feel Victor turning under the shirt, breath hot against his skin, “…But, it really probably is after noon.”

"...Five more minutes..."

Yuri hummed a breath in agreement, and fumbled to reach for his phone on the nightstand.  When he was sure he finally had it, he gathered it up and reached with his free hand to pull the night mask off his head entirely.  When he clicked the phone on, he was a bit surprised to realize it was barely after 12, "Yup, right on time...it's about noon-thirty."

"Less talking, more sleeping." Victor mumbled, and settled his chin against his beloved's sternum to keep dozing.

"Your appointment's in an hour and a half." Yuri pointed out.  He realized he could see a little of the man's hair through the stretched neck-hole in that shirt, and as he lowered his phone-hand down, he used the other to pull the opening up a little to glance within, seeing only the top of the man’s crown though, "Cozy in there?"

"This is my house now.  I live here."

"I'm afraid I'll have to evict you."

"What?" Victor grumbled and squirmed a little, "Noooooo..."

Yuri started to push himself up on his elbows, and slowly forced Victor down and out, try as he might to stay where he was.  Eventually, Yuri was successful though and he was able to twist his legs off the side of the bed, even as Victor was still holding onto him with both arms around his waist.  He looked back down at his fiancé from where he sat, and patted the mussed-up hair on Victor's head, "You can stay here a bit longer if you want." He offered.  Victor's arms finally went lax, and Yuri headed for the door, stretching his arms as he walked through.

Victor watched him go, rolling himself up into a blanket-burrito as he whined about being left homeless.

The poodle jumped over him and ran for the door as well.

"You've run away with my home and my dog!" Victor called out pitifully, "Makkachin, you're a traitor...!"

All he got was a second full bork in return...  "Hey!  Rules!"  ...and he finally rolled himself off the foot of the bed and into a heap on the floor.  Unexpectedly, he felt the wind get knocked out of him as he landed directly on top of his folded arms.  One fist went straight into the middle of the black patch under his ribs, and Victor felt as though he deflated like a balloon right there under the pile of blankets.  His legs flopped down to the floor, and he grunted a pained but comical breath, "Oof..."

Yuri managed to get into the kitchen as Makkachin ran up behind him excitedly, and the pup sat next to the one remaining dish, tail swaying happily.  Remembering where the actual food bowl was though, Yuri told the dog to sit and stay, and headed back to the bedroom to get it.  When he arrived, the pile of blankets on the floor was unmoving.  He could see Victor's feet poking out the other side though, and after he collected Makkachin's bowl from nearby, he went over to kneel next to the head of the 'nest.'

"Is this your house now?" Yuri asked, poking at the top of it, "Victoooooor...are you home?"

"I think I'm dying." He answered, his voice muffled from under the comforter, "In fact, I'm pretty sure I am..."

"Hehhh...?"

"I rolled off the bed and fell and now everything hurts."

"You fell like half a meter onto a down-feather blanket."

"...I landed with my hands balled-up under my chest...I regret everything..." Victor whined, and wiggled in place until he could get his knees under him, "I'll bet I brought my mother's ghost back with me from the funeral..."

Yuri cocked a brow, "...Whaaaat are you talking about?"

"I came back home with all the blood and tears from the funeral.  I should've discarded everything before coming inside." He tried to explain, "Everyone else did...they threw the tissues away before going home..."

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about right now.  Are you suggesting you should've stripped naked on the front lawn before coming into the house?"

Victor pushed himself up to sit on his knees, but kept the big blanket pulled around him, "Russian tradition says you should leave your tears behind at a funeral, otherwise you invite grief and bad spirits into your home.  Maybe even the ghost of the person who died!"

"You think your mother's ghost is haunting you because you fell out of bed."

"That's exactly it!" Victor replied, and the blanket slipped off his head, "You should've left it all outside, too!"

Yuri gawked at him, "I'm not stripping naked in the middle of Russian winter." He puffed, cheeks a bit flushed, but he reached forward and lifted the bangs away from that swollen eye, "Come along...  We really need to get going."

Victor reluctantly agreed...but not before he did one last thing.

Kasssss...shff...

A match was struck, and Victor tossed it to a stone pit in the middle of the back yard.  It landed on a pile of clothes, doused with lighter fluid, and quickly caught fire.  Coat, scarf, shirt, pants, socks...even the shoes were set ablaze.  It wasn't long before the whole messy pile was kindling, and black smoke rose into the sky.  Victor watched closely as the fibers singed and curled, taking to the conflagration to wither away into ash.

Yuri watched quietly from the concrete stairs by the house, casually propped against the metal hand-rail.

"Everything on the ice is love." Victor suddenly said, stealing his beloved's attention away from the billowing smoke, "Except when it isn't."

"When it...isn't?"

"The opposite of love is hate." He started to explain, "I'm going to create a program that no one's ever seen me do before, and I'm going to show the world all the darkness I have trapped inside me."

"That's a bit intense, don't you think?"

"It's the one thing that keeps holding me back." He answered, and looked up to the trailing plume, "I need to channel this negative energy into something productive.  So next season, I'll skate your song for my Short Program to show my love, and then for the Free, I'll skate to this."  He said, and turned to head back towards the steps.  As he walked, he pulled out his phone, and unwrapped the head-phone cable that was plugged in and ready, "Tell me what you think of when you hear this song."

Yuri accepted the device and put the ear-buds in, tapped the play button on the touch-screen...and waited. 

The song started out calmly enough; Yuri wasn't sure how this could be what Victor had meant if he was serious about skating to the theme of rage.  But...then the guitar riffs and drums banged into his ears, and all his questions were answered with a bang, "There's so much energy..." He said, listening closer as the lyrics began in earnest; an operatic-style chorus.  The woman’s voice from before sang of the forces of nature, the elements, its viciousness but also its beauty and serenity.  He thought he could feel the moments when certain jumps would be used in time with the beat, where skating would be slow or when it would speed up as quickly as blades would carry.  He even thought he could see the step-sequence in his mind's eye, "Are you sure you can do a program to this?  It's even more demanding than I thought it could be."

"Yurio's Free Skate worked because he channeled his greed into his composition...his jumps were energized by envy and lust.  A performance is only as good as the emotions behind it.  With everything that's happened since we got back from Four Continents...I feel like this is the best time to think of a program that would channel all the anger and frustration I have inside me.  A high-intensity Free Skate with a song like this to match it...I think it would be perfect.  It would be the complete opposite of the hopefulness of your song."

“But that would mean holding onto your fury through all of next year…” Yuri pulled the buds from his ears to hand them and the phone back.  He got a head-tilt from Victor for his comment, and Yuri lifted his hands nervously, "If you're sure about it, then I can't wait to see it."

"There's also another thing I want to tell you about." The silver added unexpectedly.

"Huh?" Yuri lifted his head, worried something bad was about to come up, "What is it?"

"We should..." Victor started, and put the phone back into his coat pocket before he reached out to take his fiancé's hands in his own, "...after Worlds...or maybe even before...we should have our wedding."

That glass heart skipped a beat, but Yuri's eyes lit up, "Before!  We should do it before!  I want the whole world to know about it when they announce my name at competition, just like you said!"

For the first time in days, Yuri saw the happy smile that he knew Victor still had somewhere inside him, dying to get to the surface again, and he felt a gentle squeeze against his hands.  The uplifted silver leaned in to touch his nose to his beloved's as well, "Taking to the ice next, representing Japan...Yuri Nikiforov."

Yuri could feel butterflies rise in his stomach from the excitement over it, "I can't wait!!" He said happily; a few tears of joy started to bead in his eyes.

"Me neither."

.

The day pressed on after that, and Yuri finally shoved Victor into the clinic that could look at that swollen and likely-broken orbit.  X-Rays were taken against his will, paper-stitches and skin-glue applied, eye drops and mild pain meds prescribed, and an eye patch given, along with instructions not to touch his eye, rub it, or even use it for at least a week.

"And the bloody sclera?" Yuri asked, "When will it be normal again?"

"It should be gone within two weeks." Victor explained, and looked at his pitiful reflection in a pane of glass where they'd stopped outside, inspecting where the physician had replaced Yuri’s loose bandage wrappings around his head, "I have to wear this horrible thing for the next three days...the doc says the patch would put too much pressure on the screwed-up area around my eye right now, and I'd be even more miserable than this..."

"You did take some pretty substantial hits."

Victor turned away from his reflection indignantly, "I've settled on the car accident as my excuse."

Yuri sighed, his hands in his coat pockets to hide them from the cold, "I know why you're doing it...and I...I guess I understand." He said grimly, and reached his nearest hand to touch it to his partner's arm, "I've been thinking about what you said…about how your father equates figure skating with prostitution..."

"I don't know where he made that connection.  He seems to believe that figure skating is just performative, and requires no skill or training.  The costumes, the lights, the showmanship…that’s all he sees, and to him, it’s like putting meat out in the open."  Victor grumbled and shook his head, but then put a hand to the side of it as he remembered his migraine, "He hates my career choices, he hates my romantic choices...he might as well hate my wine choices, too."

"He poured vodka on your head.  He probably does hate your wine choices." Yuri sighed, and pulled his partner's hand into his pocket.  Yuri puffed his chest out and tried to sound rugged and deep, “Mrph…wine…woman’s drink.”

Victor just looked at him for a moment, but then realized the humor in it and smiled a little, "Yeah, probably..."

"On a not-unrelated note though, since you said what you wanted to do for Worlds’ next year, it hasn’t evaded my notice that you haven’t told me about your plans for this year’s Worlds are." Yuri pointed out as they started walking back to the car, "And your costumes still aren't here either.  I'm starting to worry they're lost."

"Oh...no, they've arrived." Victor corrected, and gave a hopeful smile, "I checked the package tracking link while I was waiting in the exam room.  The delivery was made after we left.  Let's go back.  I can show them to you."

Yuri got excited and skipped a few steps, "Really?  And you'll let me hear the songs that go with?"

Victor allowed himself to get a little excited despite his predicament, "Let me back up a bit.  'On Love: Phillia' speaks to the bonds between people who are not related; friends, soldiers, maybe even humans and their pets.  In my head, because I want to do something epic and memorable, I want the music to be orchestral with a choir, so the bond I'm focusing-in on is the kind between brothers in arms, with a song that's almost militaristic-sounding."

"What's the song name?"

The silver Russian blinked – or winked, Yuri wasn’t sure which given that he could only see the one eye – and nudged his head towards the car, “Let me just play it for you.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Victor drove slowly and deliberately, and took way longer to get back than normal.  Yuri wasn't about to complain though.  The last thing he wanted was more trouble...especially since he was finally about to see the outfits Victor had planned for Worlds.

Aside from the tailors, he alone would be amongst the first who got to glimpse what was to come.

Someone honked at them repeatedly from behind, and Victor started to get a little flustered, "Cyka blyat...  Is it clear?"

Yuri looked back between the seats to check the rear, "Yeah."

Victor powered on through, and kicked up snow and slush behind them as the car moved ahead.  Other cars honked, but no one collided, so they quickly sped off to rejoin the normal flow of traffic.

By the time they got back, Yuri's heart was in his throat, and he fell out of the car as it parked.  He all but kissed the garage floor for gratitude to be back.  Makkachin barked behind the door to urge them inside, and once in, both exhausted men dropped down onto the big blue couch with a huge sigh of relief.

"Well, at least the ice rink isn't that far away..." Victor said with a huff, "I don't want to drive on a major highway again until I get my sight back."

"No comment." Yuri heaved.

"And you've seriously never learned to drive?"

"No comment."

The Russian raised his hand, and dropped it onto Yuri's rather dramatically where it was clenched to the cushions between them, "It's okay, you can say it..."

"We made it back...so let's get started already!" Yuri offered instead, and sat up excitedly before he rushed for the front door.  He quickly pried it open and spied the desired box there on their stoop; greedy hands quickly scooped it up, and he turned back inside with it, "You said you'd show me the new costumes!"

The Russian huffed a laugh, "Alright, alright...give me just a minute then..." He said, and rose to stand to collect the box from his fiancé's waiting arms.  Yuri watched him go happily, but sat back down on the couch patiently.  A few anxious minutes passed, and soon, Victor came back through the bedroom door bedecked in the first of his two new outfits.

This one was, Yuri guessed, for the Short Program.  While the 'Eros' costume had been black, and the 'Agape' had been white, this new costume for 'Phillia' was grey.  Unlike the previous two outfits though, this one was not a repurposed outfit that Victor had used in his youth.  Keeping in line with the theme, however, the Russian's outfit was made with the idea of war; he'd chosen to reference the bonds made between soldiers...brothers in arms.  The costume looked somewhat ratted, as though it had been worn through the rigors of battle a few times already.  The mantle was comprised of several sheets of torn-up and generally shredded grey and black material, with a gunmetal-grey loose-fitting uniform beneath it, tied at the calves and ankles with dark-colored rope.  There were numerous straps that went around the legs and across the hips and torso, with the forearms and wrists wrapped in black material and silver rope.  There weren't any embellishments or crystals embedded in the material, leaving the entire thing looking 'dull' compared to some other outfits, but Yuri supposed that was somewhat the point.  The dynamics of the outfit were in its ethereal flow and the gradient of grey to black and back again.

"Wooow~!" He fangirled anyway, "That looks amazing!"

Victor started to reenact a few of the moves from the program right there in the living-room.  The motion of his arms looked more like martial arts this time though, with wide, sweeping motions that drew the eyes to center, and quicker motions that were too fast to follow.  Yuri could only imagine how intense the footwork would be on the ice when Victor was ready to get back onto it...never mind all the other elements that might've changed since he and Yurio had set a new standard with their own new world records.

The second outfit was another beast all together; it almost looked like a Las Vegas show presenter's suit, with long coat-tails that came to a point just below the Russian's knees.  It was black from tip to toes, but the free edges of many panels were trimmed in shining red or gold.  The black material itself had a swirling pattern within it - shifting between a more shiny black material, and the matte it was set on - which could only be seen in just the right light. The arms and back were emblazoned with sequins in elaborate vine-like lines - red towards the ends of the sleeves, and gold from elbows to shoulders, which then mixed together on the back and chest.  There was even a matching top-hat to go with it, and though Victor wouldn't be able to use it for much, he still thought it was fun to have.

That one left Yuri somewhat speechless, and he just stared at the Russian like he was some kind of god.  But, one thing did come to mind, and he slouched against the arm-rest, "Ahhh...it's really a shame you're only going to use this at one competition...  You can tell the tailors put a lot of work into it..."

"Right?" Victor agreed, and looked himself over with a bit of a melancholy visage, "Maybe I should do some unofficial events..."

"What about that Adult Competition I told you about before...?"

"You dare mention that again!" Victor hissed, which just made Yuri chortle a laugh, "...Besides, I looked into it, and if I go to Worlds, I'm disqualified from the Adult competition anyway.  Plus, it seems like they don't allow quad jumps at all, regardless of skill level...so that kind of kills it for me."

"So it's basically the back-up competition for those who don't qualify for anything else for whatever reason."

"Seems so."

"Well, I guess that's fine..."

"I'll have to do my best to make this one performance of the season worthwhile for everyone." Victor said, "And I'll do it by taking back my claim on the world records."  He wink-blinked at his fiancé daringly.

"Yeah!" Yuri cheered, only to pause, "Wait...  Time-out.  You can have Yurio's; I'm keeping mine."

The Russian hummed to himself, then moved forward to put a finger under his beloved's chin, "You don't get to start raising your hands during jumps without me doing the same thing."

"How come you hadn't before, anyway?"

"Didn't need to."

"So you've been holding yourself back this entire time."

"Four quads in a single program isn't exactly what I'd call 'holding myself back.'" Victor explained, "Most skaters can barely manage two or three, tops.  Those who make it all the way through the GP Series are basically going on to the GPF as the Quad Finalists."

"I never really thought of it like that...but I guess you're right."

"But, since you and Yurio are pushing me to do more, I kind of have to.  So, get ready to see some skating that you've never seen before." Victor mused, and touched his partner's nose with his thumb before he - very carefully - spun his way back into the bedroom to change into normal clothing.

Watching him go, Yuri sighed to himself, "...Jeeze...he's just been messing with us all along...  He's gonna destroy us at Worlds..."  He slouched so far on the couch that he found himself flat on his back, eyes up at the ceiling, "...Well, I guess it wouldn't be so bad to win the Silver to Victor's Gold..."  He threw his arms up over his head though, "...But he said I have to be a five-time World Champion, just like him!!  Ahhh!!!"

.

Days went by, and Victor was able to take the bulky dressing off his head, only to replace it with the eye patch he'd been given instead.  But, with his bruises healing, he felt like it was time for him to get his skates back on again, and brave the training arena despite not having both eyes to see still. 

"Yakov is still the only one besides us who knows what really happened." He explained as they walked through the parking lot towards the RSF practice rink, "So if anyone asks what happened..."

"It was a car accident..." Yuri grumbled.

"I know you don't like lying, but..." He continued, "I don't need anyone else getting into my business.  What's done is done."

"I'm a terrible liar."

"It's not like you have to tell the whole story...the color of the car, what seat I was sitting in, whether I was a driver or not..." Victor tried to alleviate the pressure, but knew he was failing, "Just..."

"I knoooowwwww..." Yuri cut him off, "I won't tell anyone what really happened.  I'll just tell them to ask you about it if they really want to know, and we both know no one will."

"What?  Why wouldn't they?" Victor was confused, "People ask me stuff all the time."

Yuri side-eyed him comically, "Because you're Victor Nikiforov.  You have this weird untouchable quality." He tried to explain, and looked forward again, gazing up at those tall windows that flanked one side of the building, "Pestering you about how you got hurt would be like someone was trying to tarnish your grandeur and drag you down.  It just seems disrespectful."

"Hah, the concept of disrespecting me never stopped Yurio."

"And yet, even he hasn't actually asked you what happened." Yuri pointed out.

"...Hm, that's true." The Russian put a finger over his lips as he pondered it, "I guess I hadn't thought about it since he'd already assumed I got into a fight.  He even asked if I got the other guy."

"Oh...he did?"

Victor pulled his finger away from his mouth and held it up, smiling, "Yup!  You were still fainted though, so that's why you didn't hear it."

Yuri's face went red at the mention of it, "...Ahhh...I still can't believe I dropped like that..."

The Russian just draped his arm over his partner's shoulders and pulled him close, "It's okay, I caught you, and then I carried you over the threshold into the arena."

"How dramatic." Yuri laughed weakly; he moved his left arm to wrap around Victor's lower back, and they continued their walk towards the skating rink.

The training arena was fairly well packed when they arrived, but they'd expected it to be.  It wasn't used exclusively by the Russian skating team, after all, and they couldn't very-well hog the thing all the time.  But, the entire team did happen to be there, so when Yuri and Victor entered the building, they were the first to recognize them.

"Oh my God it's true." Mila said suddenly, pointing at them, though mostly at Victor, "Someone beat you up!"

Victor narrowed his eyes...eye..., "...I...can't even...  What?"

She rushed up to him and grabbed him by his shoulders, "Who did this!?  I'll hurt them ten times worse!  I did warn you this would happen!  I told you in Barcelona, didn't I!?"

Yurio and Georgi glanced between the two skaters, unsure what to say, if anything.

Victor tried to calm her, and waved one hand in a downward motion like he wanted to turn her volume down if he could, "Relax, it's fine, nothing happened."

"You're wearing an eye-patch like a damn pirate!" She argued, "Someone punched you in the face and I mean to break theirs for it!"

Yuri watched quietly, but gave the man a knowing look.

"Enough already, both of you." Yakov's voice interrupted them, "Victor says he's fine, so he's fine.  That's the end of it."

Mila was forced to drop it, and she let go of Victor's shoulders reluctantly.  She did turn to eyeball him straight-on though, wishing she could read his mind to find the face of the one who'd hurt him.  That failing, however, she just went back out onto the ice and skated off in a grumpy huff.

"Vitya," Their coach started up again, and approached so as to speak more quietly and still be heard, "How does it look?"

The silver puffed a sigh and reached up to lift the eye-patch a little, showing that the sclera was still blood-red, but that at least the swelling around his cheek had gone down by half, leaving just an ugly purple-green bruise and a few dark-red cuts to hide beneath the covering.

"Can you see?"

"It's hazy, but it's getting back to normal." He explained, and put the patch down again.  He straightened his bangs out to cover it, "It'll be fine in another week or two, I'm sure."

"That's good.  You have a lot of work to do for Worlds and not a lot of time to do it."

"I'll wait until the ice clears a little before I go practice.  I can still skate, I just don't want to risk someone being in my blind spot while I still have to wear this stupid thing."

"That's fine.  Do what you have to."  Yakov nodded, and pat Victor's shoulder before he headed towards the rink's edge, "I'm going to put some cones down so people know to stay off this side of the rink."

"Da." Victor nodded, and pulled his backpack up a little as he turned to look back at Yuri, and gestured him over to the team's prep area.

They pulled off their heavy winter garb and set it aside, with each wearing their country's tracksuit coats underneath.  They both put on their skates in relative quiet, listening to the scratch of blades on the ice, and kids crying out in excitement...and occasionally in despair when they fell.  Victor was done first, and moved to stand up and step over to the rink wall.  He slouched over it to look out at the arena, then stretched his arms.  It feels different today for some reason, he thought.  Coming here to practice the programs I choreographed a year ago...it's like I'm right back where I started, to the day before I saw the video of Yuri doing my 'Aria.'

Yuri finally joined him, and nudged the ponderous man with a shoulder as he put his hands on the rink's edge, "You want to put me through my paces for a while?"

"Sure.  Go skate some laps and warm up.  I'll think about what to have you practice first."

"Alright." He nodded, and moved to take his glasses off.  He set them gingerly on the bench where he'd just been sitting, pulled the rubber guards off his blades, and plodded off carefully to the rink entrance on his toe-picks.

Victor watched him go, then moved to do a little stretching of his own, holding onto the rink ledge as he leaned far back.  He held there for a moment, and felt the pull in his back and shoulders, but when he came back up again...a certain pair of green eyes were staring him straight in the face from the other side of the wall 

"Oh!" He started, "Hey, Yurio."  He kept on with his stretching like before.

"You shouldn't skate with one eye even if no one else is on the ice." The blond warned, "I won't forgive you if you get hurt and can't compete at Worlds."

"Why so worried?" Victor mused, and pushed back to lean down to grip the benches; he used them to hoist himself up and down in a set of reverse push-ups, legs straight out ahead of himself, "If I overdo it, then you'll have one less person to worry about."

"I've waited long enough." The Russian Tiger explained stiffly, "You've been out of competition for most of the season.  If you don't go to Worlds then you'll be done until fall when the GP Series starts again.  Unless you feel like going to Lombardia or Nebelhorn or something first."

"So you're telling me not to skate?"

"Not until you can use both eyes again at least, dumbass.  You don’t have any depth perception.  Don’t be stupid."

"Glad to see you care." Victor teased, and stood upright again to circle his arms around, first forward, then back again after a few spins, "I didn't think you did."

"Hmmph..."

"How's your grandpa?"

"...He's good." Yurio answered warily, "I've been keeping him on top of his meds."

Victor nodded and pulled himself back up to the rink's edge again.  He leaned against it right next to the blond, and looked out over the ice to find his partner, "That's good to hear.  Having a strong support structure is important for any athlete looking to go the distance.  It's hard to go it alone.  I'm glad he decided to move up here from Moscow."

The Russian Tiger silently agreed, thinking back on his abysmal performance at the European Championships.  He scuffed the ice with the toe-barbs on the his right skate, "I'm going to redeem myself at Worlds."

The silver legend smiled at that, "That's exactly what Yuri said about the GPF when I first became his coach."  He ruffled Yurio's hair affectionately, "You and him are more alike than you realize."

"We're nothing alike." He protested indignantly.  He spotted the aforementioned skater on the far side, lining up to practice the very quad Salchow he'd helped Yuri land properly in the first place, "I don't cry to myself while sitting on a public toilet."  He turned to lean his back against the wall; Yuri pulled through the Salchow as though it was nothing and even turned it into a triple-jump combo, adding a single Loop and a triple Toe-loop before he moved off again casually.

Victor reached over and settled his hand on Yurio's shoulder, "You don't have to keep picking on him just because you both share the same name.  You beat him fair and square at the Grand Prix Final and he's been sweating about how to beat you at Worlds ever since."

"Don't kid yourself.  He's more worried about beating you than he is about beating me."

"Maybe a little." Victor agreed, "But...you scored over 118 in your GPF Short Program, and he still hasn't reached that height himself yet."

"He scored higher than me in his Free Skate."

"He has more stamina than you do.  He gets more points for putting jumps closer to the end of the program.  But unless he can catch up to you in the Short Program, he's still going to struggle a little."

"Tsh..." Yurio grumbled, and twisted his head around to gawk at his superior, "I don't need you telling me-"

"VICTOR." They both heard Yuri suddenly scream from the far side of the rink, having fallen for some reason.

Yurio jerked his head around and watched the man collapse on the ice, "What'd that idiot do now...?  I hope he didn't twist an ankle or someth-"

"VICTOR!!!" The downed skater screamed again, this time with more urgency and panic than before.

Victor practically tripped over his own feet in his attempt to get the blade guards off, and literally vaulted over the rink wall to take off across the ice like a red and white blur.  Yurio pulled up the rear after that, but was a bit less excited about it.  When Victor finally arrived, he dug his rockers into the ice and sent up a flurry as he braked, coming to rest directly in front of his partner with one knee down on the cold hard surface, "What is it!?  Are you hurt!?"  He barked his questions, and grabbed the man to looking for blood through his black clothes.  He found nothing, but Yuri still shook like a leaf, so he leaned closer, "Yuri!!  Say something!"

Yuri could only look through him - past him - and pointed straight ahead to where something had caught his eye behind Victor's back.  The Russian turned to look directly behind himself, and saw something on the rink's edge that he hadn't expected; his heart practically seized in his chest, and he froze in place, unsure what to do.

"The hell is wrong with you two?" Yurio asked as he finally caught up to them. 

Mila had finally gotten there as well, and was equally curious - if less vulgar - about what was going on.  Practically everyone had stopped what they were doing to look over at the foreign skater with the random-as-hell blood-curdling scream.  They all looked in the direction Yuri had pointed, and were confused when they saw nothing that looked out of the ordinary.  There were people on the ice, off the ice, and nothing looked odd.

Except for the huge, hulking mass of a man that was staring straight back at them.

"...It's...it's Konstantin...!!" Yuri finally managed to say, "Why is he here!?"

"Who the fuck is Konstantin?" Yurio growled, "And why are you shitting yourself over it?"

Victor finally pushed himself to stand, and offered his hands down to pull his fiancé up as well, though he kept his one good eye on the brooding Russian bear that hadn't blinked since they'd each caught sight of one another.  When he felt that Yuri was finally on his feet again, he let go and turned about-face to glare at his father straight on.

Why are you here...?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Moments earlier…

I can do it...  Yuri thought to himself, and flipped from a forward-skate to a backward-skate, then started to pick up speed, I can do it!!

He leapt, spun four times, landed deep into the Salchow...and cursed himself quietly...

I psyched myself out...!!  I'll never get the higher GOE if I don't raise my arms up more consistently!

He came to a halt and went through the initial move again; he slowly slid forward on the ice and tried to remember how his body moved at Four Continents; how he'd used the momentum of his arms to throw himself higher into the air, and kept his arms up in the process. 

If I use my arms to get more height, then bringing them down again early will just change my center of gravity...I have to keep them up and only bring them down again for the landing to keep my balance...

Hazel eyes looked over to where Victor was stretching and chatting with Yurio.  They had both looked at him before, probably for his jumps, but they'd turned to look at one another again.  Yuri pushed off with his toe and decided to give the arms-up Salchow another attempt. 

Maybe I should just warm up with the jumps I know and worry about the challenge after Victor’s had a chance to get me started.  Yeah, I’ll just do some combos…

He slid around again and vaulted through the quad Salchow, single Loop connecting jump, and the triple Toe-loop, landing each well enough that it satisfied him, and he glided off again.  As he lifted his head and twisted his body to change direction, he caught sight of something dark on the other side of the rink. 

That's weird...I thought Yakov was just here...?

And he was. 

The gruff older coach was barely 20 meters to Yuri's left, setting down the last of the small orange cones to cordon off the official practice area from the public area.  He wore his usual dark duster, matching hat, and blue scarf, affirming that Yuri had at least remembered what the man was wearing and why he thought the 'dark shape' might've been him to begin with.

Yuri turned his head back around and thought maybe he'd seen something that wasn't real, but when he looked...the dark spot was still there.  Slate blue eyes were glaring at him from under the brim of a dark grey hat.  Yuri's knees buckled under him and he collapsed to the ice in a panic, "Vic-  Victor...!"

Yakov looked up, having seen the young skater drop out the corner of his eye, "Yuri?"

"VICTOR!!" He cried out again, and clicked his heel-picks into the ice in a desperate attempt to gain ground towards safety, "VICTOR!!!"

Yakov was perplexed, and shifted his sights from where Yuri had collapsed, over to where he'd looked a moment prior.  When he saw the same dark entity standing there, through the crowd of public skaters, his jaw clenched, [What the hell is he doing here?  How long has he been standing there?]  He growled to himself, and dropped the remaining two cones as he headed for the nearest rink exit.  He looked up again when he heard Victor gouging a crevasse in the ice as he stopped in front of his partner, calling out for Yuri to answer his questions.

When everyone had finally realized what made the foreign skater drop, the air became tense.  They all looked to Victor, who to that point had said absolutely nothing except to Yuri.  He'd only risen to stand up straighter, and looked to the source of his partner's fear.

"Victor, what should we do?" Yuri asked pensively, lightly touching his fiancé's arm like he wasn't sure he was even allowed to at that moment.

No words even needed to be said for Yurio and Mila to pick up on what was going on.  The more Yuri sweat about that dark man's presence, the more obvious it became that he was a source of contention for the pair...and that could only mean one thing.

"That's the ass-bag who hit you?" Yurio blurted out, "Is he a stalker?  We'll take care of him-"

"Absolutely not." Victor said sternly, unblinking, unmoving, "And shut up."

"Why?"

"Just stay here." He said with finality, and broke off from the group to skate forward alone.

Yuri watched him go, but the man's body language clearly stated this was his fight and not to follow.  The entire population of the skating arena seemed to feel the rising tension in the air, and when their Nation's Hero skated into their midst, they parted for him and left the ice, seeing he had a purpose.

Bearing the big red [R U] on his chest made him look somewhat official, and he knew the sight of it would make the dark figure bristle, so he held his head high as he finally came to stop about ten meters away from the rink's edge.  He drew a quiet breath, and spoke the name, "Konstantin."  He said it flatly; he felt a weird serenity fall over him...the fear had gone.  Unlike before, the man-bear was on his turf now, not the other way around, "Čego ty hočešʹ?" (What do you want?)

Konstantin said absolutely nothing; he just stood there like a statue, hands in his coat pockets, glaring straight ahead with an unblinking stare.

[Shit, you went ahead without me!] Came a strangely familiar voice, [I told you to wait outside until I got back!]

Victor was deflated at the sound of it, and peered his one blue eye to the side where he thought he saw someone coming up behind his father.  Finally, the new figure was fully in sight, and Victor gawked at him awkwardly.  I know that guy… 

.

[Are you his coach!?] The second man asked, looking towards Yakov as the man still struggled to get up the hill, [Get up here and help carry him!  He can't walk on his own!]

.

Oh, it’s that guy…  They sure do seem chummy now.

[I said I was going to get coffee!  I wasn't even gone for ten minutes!] The voice continued; it came from a man of perhaps 55 years of age, thin but not skinny, pale complexion, and pale-green eyes barely visible from under the front edge of a flat-cap hat, which sat atop a head of silver-grey hair.  When Konstantin refused to respond to him, the smaller man turned his gaze over to where the bear had been looking, and thought he saw a ghost, "VICTOR!"

"...Huh?"

[You're even taller with skates on...] The thin man continued, much to Victor's chagrin; it was odd to listen to him.  His Russian was slightly off, like it was a language he hadn't been practiced in some time, [Sorry to pop up like this all of a sudden.  I wanted to say something to you at the funeral, before it all went to shite, but you seemed all weird, so I decided to keep my distance.]

[Seemed all weird?  That's what you thought?  Who are you?]

Everyone around was confused...but none more so than Yuri, who couldn't even understand what was being said.

[It's probably been 20-something years since you last laid eyes on me in recognition.  I apologize for that.] The unknown man continued, and came up to the rink wall with the aforementioned coffee in his hands.  He set the cup down on the wall's edge and reached up for the edge of his hat, and pulled it off politely, [I'm your mom's brother.  Uncle Mimi, remember?]

Victor turned his head a little to the side, confused beyond all reason, but a vague memory started to creep in, and there was a dawn of understanding.  Not that anyone behind him could see, but for a brief moment, the slender Russian skater's face contorted from confusion to brief rage.  He had to shake his head, clenching his eyes shut, to shake the feeling, and tried to look on normally again before anyone could question why he'd looked that way.

"...Uncle...Mimi?" Yurio repeated quietly in stunned surprise. 

Yuri glanced over at him, but then turned back to watch things unfold, "...I think Victor was about to mention him before." He whispered, "But he stopped like it was too painful to think about."

[You look just like her, you know?] The elder gestured for Victor to approach, [Well, other than having the bear's eyes, anyway.] 

Victor was still severely unsure of the whole situation, and he twisted back to his fiancé and fellow athletes, shrugging helplessly before he turned back around again.  He pensively started to skate forward, extremely wary of Konstantin standing maybe five meters behind and to the side of this supposed uncle.  He caught sight of Yakov coming up from the other side of the rink, rounding the big curve where the rink turned, and he held his hand out for the coach to stop.  Yakov paused where he stood, glowering at Konstantin, but silently agreed not to intervene - for the moment.

[Do you remember me?] The self-proclaimed uncle asked.

Victor continued to look at him curiously, side-eyeing him with his one good eye, and got within two meters of the rink-wall.  He finally raised his hand though, and pointed one finger to the ice, [Look down.]

[Huh?]

[Prove something to me.  Look down, and I'll hear you out.]

The man shrugged and did so, bowing his head over the edge of the rink.  He looked at Victor's skates for lack of anything else to see; he felt silly for it, but a moment later, he felt a finger poke down on the crown of his head - and the full fluff of hair that covered it.

Yuri saw it, and the relief was palpable, so he started skating forward.

"Hey!" Victor called back to the group, sliding backwards a bit to reveal the man properly to them, "Come meet my uncle!"

"Oh, you want to speak in English then?" The silver elder asked, trying to keep his coffee from being knocked down, "I can do that."

Yuri was surprised by it, His English is as good as ours.  His accent isn't even half as thick as Victor or Yurio's...I wonder if he's been living in America or something?

"Tsh, isn't this rich." Yurio scowled quietly, "Just watch.  Victor's entire extended family is gonna pop up now.  I'll bet they all want something from him."

"What, like lottery winners?" Mila wondered nervously, "You think they didn't know who he was before?"

"He's never talked about his family, but now this monkey’s ass shows up calling himself Victor’s uncle?  This is ten-kinds of fucked up.  And who the Hell even is that other guy?" The teen snarled and narrowed his eyes on the two strangers, "Where the Hell did either of them even come from?"

“The big one is Victor’s father…” Yuri let slip, “From here, you’d never know they were related…but they share the same eyes.”

Both Mila and Yurio were aghast at the revelation, “F-Father!?”

"I thought you went to Ukraine." Victor started, feeling more at ease staying on his own side of the rink-wall.  He let the older man regain his upright posture.

"I did originally, but that was a long time ago.  A lot has happened over the years."

"How long have you been back in Russia?"

"About a year; I've been doing work in and around the region.  I was in Moscow when I got the message that Tatiyana had passed.  She'd told me years ago that you'd left home, but I couldn't remember what it had been for...but then when you and your father got into it at the funeral, I remembered."

"You remembered?" Victor's tone got bitter again, "A whole lot of good that did!  Bit late, don’t you think!?"  He tapped lightly at the eye-patch under his bangs.

"I jumped in as soon as I saw, Vivi, don't you re-"

"Don't call me that." The silver said curtly, surprising everyone with his bluntness, "You have no right."

The elder blinked, but nodded anxiously, "...Victor." He corrected, "I did what I could as soon as I could.  I was standing between you and this idiot-“ He thumbed at the bear behind him,”-until your coach took you down the hill.  I just couldn't get there fast enough...sorry."

The group was anxious as they heard the report of events, but green and blue eyes shifted over to where the behemoth Nikiforov patriarch was standing, and they glared with a desire for vengeance.  He finally moved, causing Victor to twitch and retreat back to the safety of the team, but Konstantin just turned on his heel and headed for a table and bench nearby.  He pulled out a newspaper, and sat to read it quietly.  The bear acted as though nothing was happening around him, and continued to stay silent.

‘Uncle Mimi’ wringed his hat a little bit, and unfurled it to stick it on his head again, his coffee all but forgotten, “I can’t ask you to forgive and forget what happe-“

“Why is he even here?” Victor demanded, gesturing one hand out towards the bear.

The elder grimaced slightly, “After the funeral, I…asked him how he tracked you down to invite you.  But, by then, he’d already gotten rid of all the information he had written down, and refused to recall any of it, so I made him show me the way.”  He rubbed the back of his head anxiously, “I’m not honestly sure why he chose to come inside though, given…well, everything…”

“Morbid curiosity about the state he left you in, probably.” Yurio whispered from Victor’s side, and stood defiantly, “What a prick.”

“…Can we talk somewhere less impersonal?” The older man asked, seeming rather small on the other side of the wall when the others were grouped together some distance away.

Victor sneered, but felt Yuri’s hand on his elbow, and he turned to look at the younger figure. 

Yuri nodded, “We’ll go together.  He seems decent.”

“We’ll all be here with you, just call for us if you want an out.” Mila added.  Even Yurio scoffed a nod, looking like he’d be ready to use his skate-blades to go for someone’s jugular if asked.

The silver drew in a breath, and reluctantly pushed forward with a toe-pick into the ice, heading with Yuri towards once of the gaps in the wall.  The older man started walking that way as well, pausing to go back as he nearly forgot his drink, then continued the rest of the way while trying to sip the hot liquid, trying not to burn himself on it.  Victor stayed on the ice in the doorway, but leaned against the wall, and Yuri slid in to stand beside him.  The silver stared intently with that one eye, but for his fiancé’s sake, gave the man a chance, “…Right then.”

“I suppose I should introduce myself properly before I say anything else,” The gentleman commented, and reached a gloved hand forward towards Yuri, “Mikhail Rozovsky.  I’m Victor’s uncle.”

Yuri, of course, could only stare for a second, before he glanced up at his partner for acknowledgement before responding.  Victor kind of shook his head like it didn’t matter, and Yuri turned back to the green-eyed senior before him, accepting the gesture with his own grip, “Yuri Katsuki.  Victor’s my coach.”

“It’s okay to say you’re engaged.  I know all about it.” Mikhail reassured, making the two flinch slightly, but he smiled in an attempt to put them at ease, “I looked into things as we came into town.  Didn’t have cell service out in the boonies so it wasn’t exhaustive, but…I’m impressed with what I did get to read about.”  He turned his eyes back to his nephew, “Victor, you’ve really come a long way since the last time I saw you.  Back then, you could barely hold yourself upright on ice…now you’re Russia’s National Treasure.”

“Forgive me for being forward, but…you seem very different from Konstantin.” Yuri commented, “What’s your deal?”

“Well…” Mikhail looked up in thought, trying to find the right words, “Unlike some members of the family that prefer to live like it's still the grand ol' Soviet days, I live in the present."

“That doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Suppose it doesn’t,” The elder nodded, and reached up to lift his hat and scratch his head with a finger, “I wanted to make sure Victor was okay, after what Kon did.  And…maybe try to rekindle a bit of the relationship we once had.”

Yuri felt a lot of ways about that, but looked again to Victor, “Is that something you’d even want?”

Victor tousled his hair a bit, making the eye-patch under his bangs a bit more obvious, “I’m still recovering from the last time someone in my family popped up.  I’ll need a minute to answer that.”

Mikhail just deadpanned him from under the brim of his hat, muttering to himself, “You seemed just fine when you poked my head.  What was that about anyway?  Weirdo.” He coughed to clear his throat, and spoke more normally again, “You and I were once really close, Victor.  I know it’s hard to want to bring all that stuff up again, but you were so young…I’d hoped that I wouldn’t come with the same kind of baggage that Kon brought.  I want to be the cool uncle you used to follow around all the time.”

"After more than twenty years.” Victor could only scoff, “How do I know you’re not just trying to use me for something?  Come to ask for money now that you know you have a famous relative?"

"I don't need or want your money.  As for the timing...out of sight, out of mind..." Mikhail explained, and nursed his cooling coffee, "It killed me to see all those other people at the funeral treat you like an outsider, when you were Tat’s own flesh and blood.  If it makes you feel better though, I didn't exactly get the welcome-mat either, so we have that in common.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mikhail thumbed at the bear again, sitting at that distant table, “Oh, Kon hates my guts.”

The two skaters looked at one another somewhat skeptically.

“It’s a really long story and I doubt either of you are in the mood to hear it right now anyway,” The older man shrugged his shoulders up whimsically, “Point is…I wanted you to know that not everyone in the clan is a crotchety old dipshit."

"Says the guy who abandoned mom and I so he could go be happy without us somewhere else."  Victor growled and turned to face away, leaning on the wall so his back was turned to the man.  

"Victor..." Mikhail tried to get his attention back, "I don't know what you were told about me, but I can assure you that I didn't just leave because I wanted to." He attempted; he at least got that eye back on him, "The last week or so has been really hard on you.  It doesn't take a Roscosmos Engineer to figure that out.  I want to try to make it up to you...maybe even try to help you understand why it happened."

"What are you talking about?  Understand what?"

Yuri could feel his partner getting tense again, but wasn’t sure what to do.

"Why I left.  Why your father hates skating so much...and you.  The whole bit."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe not as obvious as you think."

"Oh, well, that clears everything up." Victor said bitterly.

"It's not so simple." Mikhail went on, "He didn't just decide one day to pick skating as a thing he hated for no reason.  There is a reason."

"I don't think it really matters much.  Giving me some clue as to why he hates my profession won't make me forgive him for breaking my face on two separate occasions over it."

"Two?" The elder echoed, "What do you mean, two?"

Victor could feel his skin twitch under the bandages, but he leered anyway, "What, he never told you?  What he did at the funeral was just him trying to finish what he started years ago."  

Mikhail was stunned and stood up straighter, looking very much like he was about to slam his hands down on the rink-wall and storm off in a rage.  He stopped himself though and cleared his throat, glaring over his shoulder towards the bear before he relaxed his posture again and drew in a deep breath, "I didn't need that image in my head...  I can't believe he'd hit a kid."

"Believe whatever you want." Victor said sharply and looked away again.

Mikhail hesitated for a moment, staring at the mouthpiece of his paper cup.  He drew in a breath and shook his head, "When Kon was a kid, he fell on the ice.  The rest of the village kids made fun of him for weeks because he tore his pants on his skates, and his ass hung out the entire way back to his family's house.  He never recovered from the shame."

Yuri would've laughed if it wasn't so pathetic, and Victor felt the same. 

"My point is...you've become exceptionally good at something that once humiliated him, so he doesn't want you to succeed, because that's humiliating to him, too.  This whole thing you have with Yuri was just the cherry on top for him."

"He still didn't have to hit me over it, then or now." Victor growled.

"He learned that from his own father.  It's a cycle.  I hope you break it one day."

"Victor's never hit anyone or anything in his life." Yuri defended, barging into the middle of the conversation.

"Is that what he's told you?" Mikhail gave something of a knowing look, which put Yuri on edge, but he quickly realized he’d only just momentarily forgot a small detail.

"Victor broke his old man's nose." Yurio chirped from behind, having overheard the conversation and snuck in closer without being noticed.  He pointed a pair of finger-guns at his older rink-mate, “Pop-pow, right in the kisser.”

“That’s not the same thing.” Yuri insisted, “Victor was trying to protect himself.”

"No doubt.  Konstantin had it coming." Mikhail agreed, looking through the mouth-piece of the coffee cup at the drink that had gone cold on him already, "But you did swing the first punch.  He may not have hit you back if you hadn't."

"He poured vodka on my head and called Yuri my wife.  I felt like I had to defend both of us."

Yuri's face was a little red at the mention of it, and he lowered his head, I'm male...that makes me a husband...eventually...  Not that it's bad to be a wife!  It's just not the right word for me...?  Oh man...

"It was degrading what he did, believe me, I get that...but..."

"Never mind." Victor ended that conversational piece and pushed up from his lean, "It's over and done.  I broke his nose once and he broke my face again...we're even, whatever that means.  Anyway, thanks for coming to see me, uncle.  I'm glad to be related to at least one person who isn't violently disgusted by me.  But...I really need to go practice now...  Come on, Yuri, you need to practice, too." 

Yuri looked at where his fiancé held out his hand, and took it quietly.  He looked back at the silver-haired elder, bowed his head to the man, and then turned to take that offered hand to go back out onto the ice. 

Mikhail watched them go without saying anything more, but made a face as he shook his head, Well, that could’ve gone better.  Instead, he turned his head back to his nephew's father, sighed, and stood up as well, "You've really made a fine mess of things."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Though it had easily been an hour since the two older Russians had departed from the rink, Yuri could tell that the encounter continued to unsettle Victor.  His skating was haggard, rough, even amateur...but Yuri supposed that might also be because of the eye-patch handicap, too.  He didn't want to add to the problem though, so as long as the man skated at all, still holding to his hand, he said and did nothing to upset that.

Their pair-skating had always been rather cerebral anyway, so no matter what Victor did, Yuri inevitably felt like he knew what he should do in return.  That continued to be true in the minutes that came, as Victor finally spun around to gain a little speed, and pulled Yuri into a long arc, using him as a balance as he skated into it backwards with one leg held out straight behind him.  It felt like ballroom dancing...and it briefly reminded the young skater of how Victor had supported and guided his own skating when they were milling-about at the Incheon Airport rink, and he'd been looking up songs on his phone instead of watching where his blades were carrying him.

He kept following Victor's lead, acting as a balance in one moment, a rudder in another, or as just a buffer for his blind spot.  Victor would occasionally break off to do some step sequence or another, but he'd always come back again when he was done, wobbling slightly for lack of depth perception.  Yuri felt uneasy when he could sense Victor tipping off balance; the silver would always come back and cling for a minute, chin on his shoulder, but when Yuri noticed that the man was doing so with his eyes closed, he realized it was probably the easiest way to stop feeling so googly-eyed.  But, he continued to say nothing, vowing not to be the one to break the silence between them.

Yuri couldn't help but people-watch around the rink while his skating-chops were repurposed.  If Victor didn't need his eyes or balance-support, he looked to the other nearby skaters - with the occasional glance towards the exit, just in case someone decided to return for Round 2.  The first skater he watched was Yurio, who at that point had gone back to practicing his Tano jumps.

His form is perfect, but he doesn't have enough stamina to go the distance, Yuri noted.  He's barely hit the edge of puberty.  He's so worried about his limbs getting all gangly and unmanageable that the benefit of the added strength and endurance seems like a poor trade.

Mila was up next; she was working on jumps as well, but suffered from a similar issue, though for different reasons.

She could do quads, but unlike Yurio, whose journey into adulthood will be a boon...hers has become a handicap, Yuri thought.  Her center of balance has become all skewed, and she doesn't have enough upper-body strength carry through the fourth spin before she lands.  I can feel her frustration from here...

Then, there was Georgi, who was at rink-side with Yakov.  Yuri grimaced slightly.

I dunno what to think of that guy.  He's not particularly talkative or social, but he thinks really highly of himself anyway?  He observed.  I've been here a few weeks now, and I don't think Georgi's said a word to me.  He's always gawking though.  I wonder if he's looking at me or Victor? 

Then, finally, he couldn't spare his fiancé a few observational blips.  Victor had been against his back for a few minutes by then, and seemed to be satisfied with coasting; he'd lowered his brow to Yuri's shoulder, careful to perch with his left side facing the open air.

I believe him when he says he doesn't hold it against me that he got hurt... He considered warily, and turned in place to put them facing one another, and returned to the warmth of their hug as he coasted them along the ice.  But I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for it anyway.  He would never have considered going if not for me.  I'm going to have nightmares about it for weeks...

"Have they come back?" Victor finally asked, arms over those narrow shoulders, brow buried against his beloved's neck.

Yuri shook his head, "Konstantin left when we parted ways with Mikhail.  Mikhail himself went about a minute after.  I haven't seen either since.  Lilia came through though; I can only wonder what she thought of your father when they passed."

"Probably the same as the rest of us," Victor huffed, "But I'm glad they're gone.  I hope they never come back."

"Yeah..." Yuri agreed tepidly, Victor's uncle seemed alright...I guess...?  But Victor definitely didn't want anything to do with him by the end.

"Anyway though...  I didn't come all the way here to be a useless lump." Victor heaved a sigh of relief, and pulled gently out of the hug to head towards the rink's edge on his own.  There was a weird moment where Yuri felt like something had happened – the air had changed - but he wasn't sure what it was, so he just kept his eyes open. 

KLOK...KLOK...KLOK...

Yuri twitched in surprise.  So did the others, hearing a sound that they hadn't heard in almost a year.  It came from Victor's spot on the wall.  He'd kicked the base of the wall with his boot-blade as he tossed his track-suit coat towards one of the nearby benches...and then his eye-patch.  The toe-tap seemed to be something of a universal signal, and pretty much everyone cleared the ice at that point.  Even Yakov looked up.

Yuri was the only one who hadn't gotten to the edge of the rink though, and Yurio barked at him, "Move off, Katsudon!"

"What's going on?"

"Victor's about to put on a show.  That's what he knocked on the wall for.  Duh."

Beneath that discarded track coat was a form-fitting plum-purple shirt, matched well with black pants, and the gold gleam on his custom blades.  Victor stretched his arms one more time before he cricked his neck and ruffed his hair, hoping it didn't look too silly after the strap of the patch was removed from around his head.  With grace and expertise, Victor pushed off and flew across the ice like the legend his rink-mates knew him to be.

Yuri made it to the rink's edge near the Russian Tiger, having finally taken the hint, and watched in silent awe.

Victor seemed to dawdle a little, getting his bearings now that he had both eyes again.  His bangs whipped around, stinging his face, but he didn't care anymore.  He needed to skate.  He needed to do it right.  When he finally took his mark in the middle of the rink, he could feel the eyes of everyone in the arena were on him. 

Can I even do this right now?  My left eye is still shot...  I think I can see enough of the ice to know where it is though.  Ugh, this is miserable...  It's like having glasses on but one lens is missing.

The Russian drew a quick, sharp breath, and went down on one knee, and clasped both hands above the other.  He closed his eyes and bowed his head; the song started to play in his head, and he twitched to start...but then he actually heard it, too, and he glanced up in surprise.  Yuri just smiled and waved nervously, phone connected to the rink-top boom-box.  Victor huffed a laugh, "Start it over, start it over!  I wasn’t expecting it." He said, and waved him off to reset, "I'm ready this time."

Yuri slid his finger across his screen to push the timer back to 0:00, and hovered over the Play button, "Here it comes."

['Sol Invictus' - Audiomachine]

Immediately intense, the opening strings could've made someone's heart beat faster just from hearing them, and every second more of it that passed added to precious tension.

Victor elegantly rose up to both feet, dragging a toe-pick around himself as he went, and pushed off to skate backwards in a half-figure-8. 

Boom- boom-BOOM

The drum-beats made him hop to face forward; the scratch of his blades on the ice was like the melody itself come to life.  The intensity of the music rose like rolling thunder in the rink-hall, and Victor hopped through the next set of drum-beats, each time getting higher, using the first two strikes as a wide-up to vault on the third, and coasted the landing in the proceeding calm.  When the piano came into the orchestra, Victor's pace picked up again, and he leapt into his first jump-combination; the quad Salchow, triple Toe-loop.  He moved like fog over the frozen ground, twisting and turning until he could hear the thunderous addition of richly-deep bass horns.

The music's power grew, and the Russian's grew with it; he moved faster, waved his arms in a stronger sweep, kicked higher and turned more tightly than before.  The drums pounded even heavier then, and Victor moved to line himself up with the long center of the rink.  Pushing forward - the thunderous orchestra raging around him - he waited for the moment the music entirely faded out.  On the last boom before the silence, he threw his arms straight out to the side, and glided backwards, head bowed down.  The pause was formidable, and Victor suddenly twisted up onto himself...

BOOM!

A toe-pick crashed down into the ice, bursting it into fine white mist, and Victor faulted into the air.

.

By the time the hour came when they were supposed to leave, they had all almost entirely forgotten about the earlier events.  Victor had reluctantly put the eye-patch back into place after finding that it was starting to throb from over-use, and went back into coach-mode for lack of being able to practice himself.  It wasn't long before he'd whipped Yuri's Tano jumps back into shape.  Satisfied, they made their way outside into the dark of the St. Petersburg night, greeted by a storm of falling snow. 

"There, see?  You did it again." Yuri puffed, eyes up at the frosty whirl.  He hoisted his bag up a bit higher on one shoulder, and followed his partner and the others through the last doors.

The icy white fluff fell in chunks, glowing in the light of tall lamps in the parking lot and along the streets.  They made it a few paces through the freshly fallen dust before Yakov's keys jingled, and he called his oldest student's name.  The pair paused and looked back, and the elder coach approached. 

"U menja estʹ koe-čto dlja tebja." (I have something for you.) Yakov said simply; Yuri watched in confusion. 

I know it's Russia, but… He thought to himself grimly, and sported a nervous smile.  Sometimes I feel like they speak in Russian on purpose just to avoid my understanding.

"Ne upusti takuju vozmožnostʹ." (Don't waste this opportunity.) Yakov added, and slipped something into his student's front outside pocket.  Since Victor understood what was said, he nodded carefully.  The elder coach then turned to the newest of their small group, "Katsuki." He said gruffly, forcing Yuri to jump unexpectedly.  Yakov simply reached out, and Yuri awkwardly accepted the gesture, getting a firm handshake from that comparatively huge hand, "Thank you for looking after Victor.  He's an idiot."

Victor blanched, "Wow, thanks.  Let's go, Yuri-" He attempted, and turned to try and walk away, but his fiancé stood firmly in place…largely in part because Yakov hadn’t let go yet.

"But, since he's your idiot now, he's also your responsibility."

"...I...I think I understand." Yuri answered nervously; there was clearly something in Yakov’s palm that was passing to him, but their eyes were locked, and Yakov wouldn't completely let go until he felt those gloveless fingers cup to clasp.  Once the elder was satisfied, he withdrew from the handshake and stepped by them with a wave.

"Ice and Advil, Victor.  See you two later."

The silver grumbled under his breath.  He'd turned his attention to the old, beat up, turquoise car that had come to collect the Tiger.  Yurio seemed much happier as he got into that decades-old murder-box on wheels than he'd been the whole night on the ice, but Victor supposed there had to be at least one thing in the world that didn't make the Kitten mad, and his grandpa seemed to be it.  Victor mentally shrugged and looked away as he felt Yuri relax his posture again.  Yakov stepped off the curb and headed for his Mercedes, and Yuri made for their own little red Audi parked a bit further away.

Once they were in, and most of the way back home, Yuri couldn't help but ask, "So what was all that stuff Yakov said?"

"Huh?" The silver quipped, "Oh, the Russian stuff?"

"Yeah.  It's always weird when you guys do that around me."

"Sorry," Victor mused, and offered a smile, "I think he's having trouble adjusting to the fact that you're my constant companion.  Speaking Russian when he knows you don't is the closest he can get to telling me something privately without asking you to step away."

"He knows he can still do that, right?"

"Sure, but I wouldn't want him to."

"So what'd he give you?"

Victor peeled his free hand from his partner's thigh and reached to the pocket, "Not sure, actually.  He was being kind of ominous." He started, and fingered-around until he could pull out the small object.  Looped onto a single metal ring was a bulky brass key, "...Oh.  No wonder."

"A key?"

Victor beamed, "It's the key to the rink." He explained, but then his happy face changed to dramatic offense, "I guess this his way of politely telling me I'm not doing enough to get ready for Worlds."

Yuri quirked a brow, "He expects you to practice at 2am?"

"I can be ridiculous that way on occasion," He answered, but returned the key to his pocket and his hand to its perch on his partner's leg, "You'd know what that's like.  Ne?  Yuri~"

"Ah, sou da yo." (That's true.) Yuri nodded, and set his own hand down on the one on his lap, "Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do."

"Truth." Victor agreed easily, "I'm not expecting you to come with me though.  I know you like to sleep."

"Would you mind if I did anyway though?"

"Of course not.  I just want to be sure that you know you can stay home if you're tired." The Russian explained, but then huffed a quiet laugh, "I suppose you could say that I really should've listened to you, and practiced more before Four Continents."

Yuri just raised his hands up defensively and gave a nervous smile, "You're the skating genius, Victor.  Whatever you've been doing for the last fifteen years has clearly worked for you.  If you say you don't need that much practice, it's really none of my business to say otherw-"

"Yuri, remember what I said about neglecting my L-words?"

"...Yessss...?"

"I'm not doing that anymore.  I've haven't spent this much time off the ice since going pro." He pointed out, and gave that leg a soft squeeze, "This is my first attempt at work-life balance."

Yuri just leveled him a dry look, "You haven't been single the entire time.  What'd you do before?"

"Are you sure you want to hear about my past lovers?"

Eyes narrowed slightly, and Yuri sighed and shook his head.

"That's what I thought." Victor mused, "Suffice it to say, I didn't do much different when I was with them.  My skating always came first.  But I have so much more to live for now, so I'll have to learn a new skill.  Please be patient with me, okay?"

Yuri looked over with flushed cheeks, and nodded.  He raised the hand perched on his leg and gently kissed those scraped knuckles, "I'm learning, too.  So...I think I'll manage.  I know how you feel."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

A few weeks passed, and by mid March, the obvious physical aspect of Victor's prior injury had completely healed.  He'd avoided Instagram the entire time his eye had been covered, posting nothing and reading even less, not wanting to know what people were saying about his eye-patch.  Yuri had avoided mentioning the speculation to him, too.  The Russian might've been happy to know that people had bought his lie about the car accident, but Yuri wasn't about to inquire.

Mercifully, since Victor hadn't posted much, and since Yuri never posted anything at all, there really wasn't a lot said on the matter.  They'd effectively fallen off the radar - save the occasional post the triplets made whenever Yuri sent them photos.  So, naturally, when Victor finally returned to the internet and had Yuri post photos of his public practices to his account for him, his profile exploded with activity from worried fans.

What surprised Yuri though were the number of comments asking where he himself was.

Victor pulled a small towel around his shoulders before he returned to reclaim his phone, though Yuri, sans glasses, hadn't noticed his approach, still somewhat baffled by the fan commentary.  Yuri had tilted his head as he continued looking at the screen, as though somehow believing that changing his view of it would change what the comments said.

"What're you doing that for?" The silver legend wondered, amused by it, and reached out to retrieve his device.  He snatched it like a fishing-hawk on a trout.

Yuri twitched in surprise, but inconspicuously lowered his now-empty hands, "People are asking about me on your pictures.  I don't know why they would.  It's your account."

"I think we've been over this." The Russian answered with a smile, and scrolled through to see what the chatter was about specifically, "There's thousands of people who would follow you if you ever posted anything...but, since you don't, they're going to the one place where they think they'll find you.  So...let's give them what they want!"  Victor didn't give his fiancé a chance to resist, and pulled him close with an arm over the shoulder, squished their faces together, and winked as he held his phone up and took the selfie.  Yuri's surprised/shocked/horrified expression in the final image made Victor laugh all the more, and he gleefully posted it, "There...now they all know you were my photographer for today instead of Yakov.  Hashtag...#practice, #WorldChampionships, #photographer, #YuriByMySide, #victuri, #viktuuri, #SkateHusbands!  ...I think that should do it."  And with that, he posted the photo.

Yuri sighed at the last one, and leaned onto his hands over where his elbows rested on the rink wall, "Still just SkateFiancés, technically..."

The Russian kept his eye on the phone screen, "I'm working on it."

"You are?" Yuri lifted his head a little, "You haven't said a word since saying we should do it before Worlds.  I didn't want to bother you while this whole thing with your family went down, but..."

"You've been busy with other things, too." Victor answered simply, and finally looked at the man.  He reached his free hand forward and ran his fingers through that black hair, then cupped the back of his partner's head to bring him closer, touching their nose-tips together, "Your new sponsors coming to visit, practice for Worlds, even deciding to get contact lenses for everyday use...that all takes time.  That doesn't even take into account all the attention I demand from you, which is substantial." He said smoothly, and leaned in for a long kiss. 

This kind of thing used to make me really anxious, Yuri thought, even as he happily brought both hands up between them to cup his partner's face.  Kissing like this in public, especially in front of people we know...  I guess I've gotten used to it, after we spent so much time teasing Yurio with it.

When Victor finally pulled away, he nosed the man's lip, and then...pulled the phone down from where he'd held it up a second time.

"...You took pictures of that whole thing didn't you?" Yuri's face went bright red.

The Russian was too pleased with himself, and turned around to show his fiancé the series.  He scrolled through about 70 photos, all taken at high speed so as to seem like a movie cut into still-frames, "Annnnddddd..." He added, going through them quickly, "This was the moment you stopped panicking and started to enjoy it."

Yuri held his head low, "I hope you don't record everything we do."

"Hm?" Victor was confused for a moment, but then realized, "Oh!  No, not everything; don't worry.  I may take pictures of our public lives without you knowing in-the-moment sometimes, but I'd never capture footage of something too personal without you giving permission ahead of time.  I'm not even sure I'd want to record something like that anyway.  Seems a bit...weird.  We're already on camera for the skating...we should have something that isn't, right?"

"...I can't actually say I'd mind if we had some of our more personal moments recorded.  I'd just be worried they'd get posted online by mistake.  Like butt-dialing but with Instagram." 

"...Really?"

Hands came up and waved frantically, "Well I mean some of the innocent stuff...!  I'd probably die of embarrassment if anything more was recorded."

Victor huffed a laugh and nuzzled his beloved fondly, "And that's why I'd never do it.  I like you best alive."

Yuri gave a relieved breath, "I like me best that way, too.  So then..." He started again, and switched topics back around, "You've been making wedding plans on your own?"

"Nothing specific...I've been looking at stuff, wondering about locations, that sort of thing."

"Anything that sticks out?  Worlds is only two weeks away...I feel like we're pushing it if we want to do it beforehand...we won't even have time to send out invitations or give people time to travel arrangements..."

"I know.  It's just..."  Victor shook his head, "There were a few promising possibilities, but nothing that was perfect."

Yuri deadpanned him, "You'll be looking for a long time if you want something perfect.  Even if you find that place, there's no guarantee the weather will hold out while we're there."

"We can only get married for the first time once, right?  If we decide to renew our vows later in life, it won't be the same as the first time..."  He pawed at his beloved's hands over the rink-wall between them, "I just don't want to disappoint or underwhelm you."

Yuri practically snorted, "Victor, you've never been able to underwhelm me..."

That made him smile again, "And I want it to stay that way!" He purred, and dramatically pulled away again with flair. 

Yuri watched him with a subtle head-shake and a laugh, and set his chin to rest on one hand.  He couldn't help but reminisce a little.  In hindsight, everything happened incredibly fast.  Seems like everything with Victor happens either at the drop of a hat, or never at all, he thought.  He laughed at himself quietly, then descended to cross his arms and rest his head on them on the wall.  We never even really went through a 'just friends' phase, now that I think about it.  Before that video of me went viral, we barely talked to each other.  Then, he just showed up at Yu-Topia, and...

He remembered the way Victor had talked to him that first night; touching his face, even moving to hold his hand, all rather intimately...at least until Yuri himself panicked and retreated to the furthest wall. 

After that, Victor had gone at my pace.  He could always tell where I was at emotionally, and met me there, never overstepping.  He's always been careful like that.  I never even suspected he had a thing for me...  I just thought he was naturally flirty and charismatic that way.  Sigh...  He puffed a sad-happy breath as he closed his eyes, Even that first time I let him try to go all the way with me...  I froze and backed out, and he didn't complain at all.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about that night; though somewhat hazy from the hot wine he'd enjoyed, he still remembered the motions they went through.  The flutter in his stomach when he sat on the man's lap and felt the arousal through his clothes.  The thrill of being mounted, and someone else's hands undoing his jeans.  All his fear had gone away in that moment, right up until that last second when he got spooked.

Yuri quickly buried his face in his crossed arms and whined quietly, What was I thinking?  That's why I don't drink most of the time!  Victor was so good to me and then I left him like that

He pushed onto his elbows, and laced his fingers together loosely where they hung over the cold.  The gold on his right hand shimmered, and Yuri smiled at it, thumbing the band fondly, It's been the adventure of a lifetime to have him all to myself like this...on the ice, off the ice, and everywhere in between.  By the time he took me for real, I was so ready for it...  I had no fear at all; I just wanted him so badly...  I've never wanted anything so much before.  Even though I crushed on Yu-chan for so long, being with Victor...  He gazed across the ice, and smiled with a furrowed brow at his fiancé grilling Yurio on his sloppy step-sequences.  ...Just feels so natural... 

Yuri huffed a breath and pushed off the wall, and walked back to the bench where he'd left his coat and bag.  He sat astride the seat with a leg on each side, and rifled through his jacket's pockets.  The crunchy item that Yakov had given him was soft and pliable by then, squashed and kneaded and nearly forgotten about.  He unfolded the morsel and read the hand-written note.

[Mikhail was Victor's hero when he was very young.  I know he's angry, but maybe it would be good for him to have family in his life.  I told Mikhail I'd give you his number, but not to expect anything.  Do with it what you feel is best.]

Victor is dedicating his whole Free Skate next year to his anger at his father...and he seemed pretty-well done with Mikhail after they both showed up at the rink before.  I wonder if he's cooled down at all?  I still have such a hard time reading him sometimes.  I'd never seen him legitimately angry about anything before that.

.

WHACK

The door all but broke the sound-barrier where Victor had slammed it in, 'Let's go for a walk.'  He said with a dubious smile.

'...O...O-okay...'

.

Yuri sweat nervously, Even that time, he wasn't really mad.  I was just being obstinate, and he wasn’t getting what he came for…

Victor vaulted through a triple Axel, then a double Toe-loop, perfect as newly fallen snow; Yuri couldn't help but be in awe of it.  The Russian's form was as good as it had ever been, and Yuri was reminded of his friend out east.  He checked Instagram idly, and scrolled without really looking.

Phichit-kun and I used to watch videos of Victor, and copy his jumps in the hope of getting as good as him.  Now I'm here at Victor's home-rink...  It's crazy how much has changed. 

There was a short clip on Phichit's account; he'd arrived stupidly early in Helsinki for Worlds.  There was even a gallery of photos that JJ had posted from his wedding.  It was grandiose, as could be expected, and the 19-year-old seemed happy; not the jealous mess he'd been at Four Continents.  Yuri could only assume the Canadian felt cheated somehow.  But, maybe that's just how the world intended him to feel; it was exactly how Yurio felt when JJ stole the gold from him during Skate Canada.  In a way, Yuri hoped he could make amends with the man, and like most of his thoughts that afternoon, it lead into yet another.  Chris - who neither he nor Victor had spoken to since their last FaceTime before Euros - was probably starting to worry if they were even friends anymore. 

I'd rather not wait until Worlds to talk to him, but I wouldn't even know how to start a conversation...

Yuri kept scrolling, but stopped as he realized Victor had - somehow - already posted the photo of them kissing.  His face went bright red at the sight of it.  It wasn't tagged to anything though, so Yuri almost wondered if it had been uploaded by mistake.  It was receiving mostly positive feedback though.  It seemed the legion of female fans that Minako had warned Victor about didn't feel threatened or angry by his having come into a relationship.  What few negative comments there were had mostly centered around how they wanted to see more skate-related photos, not so much daily-affair updates.  There were a few viscerally disgusted posts, and a few in Cyrillic text that Yuri couldn't read.  He didn't want to think about what those posts said, after what they went through with the RSF conference and Konstantin.

But...that just lead Yuri to contrast how amiable Mikhail had been.

The nagging feeling was getting to him though, and he went back to the silk-soft squash of paper.  For lack of knowing what else to do, Yuri added it to his contact list, and then stared at it for a long while. 

What would I even say to him if I sent him a message?  He seemed nice enough...but I don't want to risk Victor getting mad at me, or Konstantin getting involved...  He said Konstantin hates him though…?  I don’t know what to make of that.

He grumbled to himself as he debated, and looked up from his phone to the ice - watching Victor for a few minutes as he worked on the choreography for his Free Skate - then back again.  He waggled his thumbs beside the device and furrowed his brow.

Almost without looking, he finally typed a message.

[Hey.  Are you still in St. Petersburg?]

He hovered his thumb over the Send button for what felt like hours. 

I can only imagine what Victor would think if he knew what I was considering...  After what happened at the funeral, the last thing I want is to hurt him again.  But if Yakov's telling the truth, that Victor idolized his uncle as a kid, why wouldn't he want to reconnect?  He seemed so happy to introduce Mikhail to the rest of us, but was pretty bitter by the end of it.  He practically fled to the ice after that.

He looked out at Victor again, who had since stopped skating so he could jot some words down on his notepad.  The Russian tapped the eraser-end of the pencil to his mouth as he pondered his program.

Yuri looked back down at his phone, and scrunched his mouth to the side as he continued to debate what to do.  He scratched the back of his head and ruffled his hair.

"KATSUDON."

"EEP!"  Yuri spazzed at the sudden shrill screech, and the phone fell from his hands.  It went down like a rock, and landed with a painful-sounding crunch on the ice, "Ahhh nooooo...my phone..." He moaned in despair, and looked agonizingly at where it landed face-down, completely out of reach.

Victor grit his teeth in a wince, but moved over to get the device and for his hopeless partner, "I could hear the crack all the way from where I was..."  He said as he handed it over, "Is it okay?"

Yuri took the battered phone in his hands and looked it over carefully, then clicked the side button to see if it would turn on.  He heaved a sigh of relief to see that it did, showing the security screen with the time at the top and number-pad for the pass-code.  He nodded, "Yeah, I think it's fine.  I guess it was the ice that made most of the noise."

"Whew, that's a relief." The Russian said cheerfully, "Why don't you go get your skates on?  I think we're about done practicing, so it's just casual-skate for a bit while a kids' class comes through."

Yuri's eyes lit up, and he nodded, and moved to sit back on the bench to assemble his silver blades.

.

Mikhail sat alone at the Sapsan train station, waiting for his ride to take him down to Moscow.  He heard a jingle on his phone, and reached to pull it out to see what it was.

[Hey.  Are you still in St. Petersburg?]

He pondered the unknown number for a moment, but supposed it could only be one of a small handful of people.  His thumbs went typing away.

[Victor?]

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Yuri had quickly pulled his skates on and headed out onto the ice, joining Victor and Yurio in a casual freestyle skate.  Yurio was clearly exhausted, but after watching their practice for the previous few hours, Yuri understood all too well how that felt.

"So you're not going to do that new Short Program after all?" Victor asked.

"Nah..." Yurio confirmed, hands stuffed in his track-suit coat pockets, "Since I skipped it at Euros, there's not much point.  I'll just skate 'Agape' at Worlds and save the new SP for next season."

"That's good.  Skating new material inevitably gets you lower scores.  Best to just stick with what you know."

"Mh..."

Yuri felt a buzz in his back pocket, and moved to reach for his phone, "Huh, wonder who it is?  Yu-chan?  Nishigori...?" He wondered quietly.  When he clicked on the screen and saw that wasn't the case, he felt like his soul had just escaped his body from the panic.

Victor noticed and looked back at him, "What's the matter?"

"N-nothing!" Yuri insisted, "Everything's okay!  It's good!"

[Victor?]

I must've hit the Send button when Yurio scared me!  Yuri thought in a panic, What should I do!?  "I need to sit for a second!  I think there's a rock in my skate!" He lied with a skittish lash, and broke-off conspicuously to head back to the rink exit. 

The other two just continued on without him, waiting for him to come back in his own time. 

Yuri sat on the bench near where he'd left his shoes, and motioned to take off the offending skate.  But his eyes stayed on the message he'd received.  He sighed and moved to reply, slouching in resignation to fate, [No, this is Yuri.]

The reply came faster than he'd expected, not even able to shake out the empty boot before he felt the vibration on the bench where he'd set the phone down.

[Oh!  Hey!  Did Victor tell you to message me?  I'm still in the city but I'm at the train station, about to leave.]

[Victor doesn't know I reached out.]

[Ah, I see.]  There was a pause, [Can I do something for you?]

Yuri realized he hadn't planned this far in advance, and wasn't really sure what to say in response.  He watched Victor and Yurio pass by as a group of kids and their minders took to the ice on the other side of the rink.  He could hear the group of youths calling out greetings to their nation's skating champions.

[Yuri?]

He sighed and shook his head, No sense backing out now, [Can you stay in St. Petersburg for one more day?]

[Sure.  What do you need?]

[I want to meet with you.  Victor practices late into the evenings lately.  I don’t always go with him though, so I can get away without him being suspicious.]

[Where do you want to meet?]

.

There was a café within walking distance of home, and Yuri left to head there with Makkachin.  He sat outside with a hot cup of cider and waited, butterflies in his stomach the whole time.  The big poodle licked at a cup of whipped cream where he lay on the concrete patio, slowly wagging his tail contentedly.

"Yuri?"

He lifted his head to look, and sure enough, there he was; tall, thin but not skinny, flat-cap matching a long black overcoat, and wisps of silver-grey hair framing two jade-green eyes.  The taxi that brought the man there started to pull away, and Mikhail held his one small carry-bag in his left hand.  Yuri huffed to himself and stood up, bowed in greeting before he looked up again, and reached out his ringed hand, "Mikhail-san..."  He bowed his head again when the elder took his hand to shake it, and they both took a seat at the same table.  Yuri pulled his chair in close to the edge, and reached down to ruffle Makkachin's head, trying to calm his fluttering nerves.  When he looked across again, he took a moment to really look the man over carefully, "...Your resemblance to Victor is unreal.  If I didn't know better, I'd have easily thought you were his dad rather than Konstantin."

"Yeah...  That's been said before." The elder nodded warily, "When I saw Victor at the funeral, I thought I was looking at my younger doppelganger.  He really takes to our side of the family, more so than the Nikiforov side."

"What's your family name again?"

"Rozovsky."

"How did your families meet?" Yuri wondered, and took a sip from his cider.

"Older generations of both families settled in the same little town; it grew up into a pretty big industrial hub, but then waned to scattered hamlets after everything fell apart in the 90s.  We all grew up together.  Victor escaped at a pretty early age."

"I can only wonder.  He won't really tell me anything; a few bits and bobs, but nothing substantial.  The most I've gotten out of him is that he really doesn't want to talk about it."

Mikhail nodded, "Unfortunately, I don't know the whole story myself...  I had left prior to it all taking place.  My sister...as much as I try to remember, anyway...said that Victor had been found by some coach from the big city while in the area on other business.  Tatiyana had taken Victor to a bigger town with a proper skating rink, and the rest was just fortunate timing."

"Yakov said that Victor looked up to you as a kid," Yuri revealed, "How long were you there for?"

"Oh...  Victor was really young.  Five or six, tops.  ...How is he, anyway?  Taking a sucker punch from Kon would’ve already been bad, but the rat-turd got him twice.”

Yuri hesitated a moment, but then leaned back in his seat with his cup, "It was pretty hard for a while.  He was really tender for the first week after, but it's better now.  He just has some residual yellow spots.  They should be gone by the time he skates at Worlds."

Mikhail nodded as he listened, "And you?"

"And me?" Yuri repeated, "...Why would...?"

"Well, you're his fiancé, right?" The elder gestured to the ring he knew was hidden within those velvet-leather gloves, "I'd have been out of my mind if something like that happened to someone I loved."

"Oh..." He sank a bit where he sat, and lowered his eyes to the mouthpiece.  His brow furrowed under his beanie, "...Victor tried to assure me that it wasn't my fault.  I may not have been the one who hit him, but Victor would've never been there to get hit if it hadn't been for me."

"...What do you mean?"

Yuri drew a pained breath, "Yakov told us what happened when we were still in PyeongChang for my last competition." He started, "Victor even told me that he struggled to react to the news; he was more worried about what it said about him that he didn't care, than the fact of his mom being gone in the first place.  He said he didn't want to deal with it...and that we should've gone to Hasetsu like we'd planned, and forget about the whole thing."

Mikhail watched carefully.

"I thought that, maybe he could get closure on that part of his life if he went anyway.  The walls he built around his heart made me think he was hiding some pretty deep wounds, and I asked him to think it over.  He decided to go at the last possible second...  After Konstantin made us meet him first, I should've stopped Victor from going to the funeral.  I should've tried harder...  I should've..." Yuri stammered, and his voice cracked.  There were tears in his eyes, but they hung on his lashes, "He got so badly hurt...  I've been so scared ever since.  I can't go to the rink anymore without worrying that Konstantin's gonna show up again; he knows where we train!  He could follow us back home and try to kill Victor like he threatened he would!  What do I do!?  He's so much bigger than both of us!  I can't protect him!"

The elder reached across the table and curled his hand over a forearm, "Kon's not that ambitious.  He's huge and scary but...he takes the path of least resistance.  You wouldn’t be able to drag him out of his village unless the whole thing burned to the ground." 

Yuri just gave an incredulous look behind his terror, "…But then…how did you convince him to bring you all the way here in person...?  You even said he hates you."

“Oh, he does, make no mistake about that.” Mikhail offered a wary smile, “But we’ve known each other our whole lives.  Kon stopped trying to refuse me a long time ago.  I guess it’s a benefit of being Tat’s brother.  Were I anyone else, he’d tell me to piss into the wind.”

Hazel eyes lowered, “The way he treated Victor though…” Yuri cringed a little, then looked up desperately, “Victor was Tatiyana’s son and that didn’t protect him from Konstantin’s wrath!”

"Sorry..." Mikhail backed up again, "I…saw it all happen with my own eyes, and I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it all.  Granted, it’s been a while since Kon and I spoke, but I didn’t think he’d changed this much.  As kids, he never put his hands on anyone.  He was always really careful about hefting his weight around, you know?"

Yuri's brow furrowed tightly.

"...My apologies are going to get pretty meaningless if I keep giving them, so I'll save them." Mikhail said stiffly, and leaned back in his chair, "I put myself between Kon and Victor when I saw what was going on, but I can't undo what was done.  I want to make up for it though...for not getting there fast enough, for being gone all these years."  He explained, and watched that tortured look on Yuri's face soften a little bit, "Since you came out here on your own, and Victor doesn't know about it, I'm guessing that you're trying to vet me."

"...Sort of." Yuri acknowledged, and snuffled slightly, "Victor basically refuses to talk about his roots; he gave me a one-line summary about his parents and then asked me not to ask for more.  I don't intend for this to be a dialogue where you spill all the family secrets, but..."

“You want him to have the same kind of experience of family as you've had."

Yuri nodded again, "Victor lived with us in Japan for a few months while he was coaching me last year; my family considered him family even before we got together. I came with him to St. Petersburg about three months ago to continue training."

"That's what I read." The elder man leaned forward against the table again, and set his forearms against it, fingers laced together, "Russia's Hero coaching Japan's underdog."

"Underdog?" Yuri echoed in confusion, and shook his head, "I mean...so you've been researching?"

"You already knew that."

"Yeah..."

"I’ve had plenty of time since meeting you two, to do some digging around.  I had no idea how skilled or famous he'd become since leaving home.  I don't think anyone in the family knows what kind of gem he is.  I'm kind of glad they don't care though; the way Victor feels right now, he'd probably flee the city if anyone else turned up."

"He's used to attention from fans...family not so much.  I don't think he knows what to do with the idea."

"Has he ever told you about me?"

Yuri leaned his head back, but then shook it, "He came close to saying he had an uncle once, but that was the end of it.  All I know is what he said when you came to the rink."

"...I see.  That's unfortunate."

"The thing is..." Yuri started again, and pulled his cider cup close, "I made a huge mistake before, suggesting that Victor go to that funeral.  I don't think I'll ever forgive myself, despite what Victor says.  I don't want him to get hurt ever again.  I'd like to get to a point where I can tell him that I'm talking to you, and maybe help put you guys back together...but I need to do it slowly."

"It sounds like you come from a good family." Mikhail surmised, "The way that Victor's been treated by his must be pretty foreign to you."

"It ahh...it's been different." He confirmed, scrunching his shoulders up a little, "Yeah."

"Then I'll keep my distance for now," Mikhail continued, "The last thing I need is for Victor to think I'm creeping on him."

.

Yuri settled on the couch with Makkachin as the night wore on, watching some meaningless thing or another on the television while he waited for Victor to return home.  He was half asleep when he finally heard the sound of the garage door, and he lifted his head blearily.  The poodle awoke as well, and hurried off to the doorway to greet his human excitedly.  When Victor finally got in though, trying not to be too noisy with the door, Yuri sat upright and rubbed his eyes, and quickly realized it was nearly 3am, "Wow...you had a late night." He said in a half-conscious haze.

Victor dropped all his gear in the hallway, smooshed Makkachin’s face, and all-but lunged at where Yuri sat, "You won’t believe it!" He latched onto his partner affectionately, "I'm so excited!!"

"You're freezing!" Yuri protested, nothing but a t-shirt separating him from the frozen cold of Victor's winter coat.  His coat and clothes were practically thrown off in a whirlwind, scattering around the room.  Makkachin ran around to each one, chasing them like the snowballs at Hasetsu Castle weeks before.  Frosty fabric was replaced then by winter-kissed skin as Victor wedged himself in close, and Yuri shivered for a whole different reason, “Oh boy, you are really excited…”  He said, smothered in cold adoring kisses as the eager Russia felt him every-which-way, “But I still bet, you won’t tell me what you did.”

"I can't!" Victor said cheerfully, pulling away from his favorite spot on Yuri’s neck to offer an apologetic smile, "I really want to though!"

"Tell me." Yuri encouraged coyly, adjusting how he sat slightly to accommodate the man’s hasty dive between his legs.

"I can't!"

"Tell me!" He slid his comparatively-hot hands up his partner’s chest and neck, fingers barely touching to silver hair before Victor writhed excitedly in his refusal.

"NOOOOO!" Victor dove in again, wrapping both arms tightly around his fiancé’s thin frame, face buried against his neck and shoulder.

"Victor!"

"Fine!" He finally relented – almost too easily – and perched upright with both hands wedged against Yuri’s sides.  His eyes were like blue fire, blazing with passion and a fevered need. 

Yuri’s own eyes blinked once in confusion as he saw those lips mouth the words, “…W-what…?”

The silver nodded once more, and lowered his head with a smile that could convince even the most defiant of disbelievers.  There was no mistaking it.

“…But that’s…impossible.   No one’s ever pulled that o-whoa!” Yuri yipped as he felt his whole body get lifted up suddenly.  He was up in the air, higher than Victor and looking down, legs still wrapped around the Russian’s waist and holding tight for good measure.  He felt the man’s urgency more prominently then, and loosened his grip to lower down a bit, feeling it better against himself as he went.

Victor sighed a quiet gasp, quickly pursuing a kiss, feeling the hum of his partner’s breath against his lips.  He started walking them back towards the bedroom, savoring in the taste before he gently leaned forward to set the younger man down on his back. 

Yuri found himself slightly out of breath from that kiss, and looked up with longing eyes, dark hair disheveled against the blanket.

“Marry me.”

“Eh?” He blinked, tilting his head slightly, “I already-“

“We’ll book the first flight to Spain.  Never mind making big plans and spending a ton of money to arrange a huge spectacle.  Let’s just go, you and me.”

“You want to elope?”

Victor's posture, the intensity of his stare, the smile spreading on his face; every bit of him brimmed with hope and joy, "Come with me, Yuri!"

"We..." He stammered, the whole thing like a blur in his mind, "...Yes, yes absolutely!"  He cried out.  He saw a few tears of joy fall from Victor's eyes, and the man pushed in to kiss him again...and again...

.

It was a whirlwind of preparation, but they were sure everything was accounted for.  They packed their belongings for the competition with the things they'd need for the next two weeks in Spain, dropped Makkachin off at the doggy vacation resort, and flew.  Victor was practically pulling Yuri through the streets of the gothic quarter they arrived; the Casa de la Ciutat loomed ahead of them.  Built of pale stone and three stories tall, with arched windows on the ground-floor, and four Roman-style pillars above the main entrance that held up a terrace with the city and country’s flags; the Hall was as much an official place of civil business as it was a tourist attraction.  They heaved to catch their breath when they finally got across the huge plaza and through the doors.  Victor had booked the appointment, and it wasn't long before they were called to enter the antechamber where their little civil ceremony would take place. 

Spain’s gold and red colors hung like pillars across tapestries that lined the walls of the Saló de Cent; the room used for such ceremonies.  Above, the room was topped with brick, and below, the lower parts of the wall were lined with tall, narrow chairs and wooden cabinets.  The floors were adorned by decorative tile in geometric patterns, with the main pathway leading through the room set with the imagery of fish, industry, and other icons of the city.  The space was illuminated with a dozen brilliantly-blazing chandeliers, hanging from a ceiling that was easily 40ft high, supported by massive stone arches.  Wooden pews lined up to the back wall, occupying nearly half the entire room, and at the front, the individualized chairs of the councilmembers who worked there, each with their own red velvet seat cushion.  The head of the room boasted a row of narrow throne-like chairs, built right into the wall beneath a huge, elaborately cut stone fresco.  The main focus of the space though was the small table with its throne for the officiant, decked in red velvet and trimmed with gold.  Before it, a pair of smaller chairs, each as well set by red velvet, with a small end-table to the side of each.

Sitting at that head-table was the mayor of the city itself, wearing a red sash from right shoulder to left hip.  When the arched door at the back of the room opened, he rose up and stood, looking on at the two men who entered.

And so...the moment finally came.

They stepped together with a nearly-matching gait, an elbow locked between them as they held to each other’s arms.  All in white with a pale blue tie and slicked-back hair, Yuri could feel his heart thundering in his chest.  His legs trembled, but he kept his feet moving, dress-shoes clicking on the marble tiles.  Victor gently pet his hand where it clutched to his arm, and gave a reassuring smile.  Victor’s own attire was in stark contrast to his fiancé’s; black with a pale-pink tie, rose-gold lapel-trims, and a vertically-striped vest of lighter and darker greys.  He kept a blue rose in his breast pocket; the perfect accent to those piercing blue eyes.

The mayor gestured around the chairs in front, and the two came around to stand before him.  They each drew in a long breath, and the ceremony began. 

“You may all be seated.”

The pair took to the velvet chairs behind them, and a few ‘official witnesses’ sat in the pews in back.

“We gather in this place, the Saló de Cent, to witness the union of two lives.” The mayor began, his Spanish-accented voice rich in the stone hall, “Halfway across the world did these two souls come together; Mother Russia, and the Land of the Rising Sun.  We speak of the coming of winter and spring, to usher in the warmth of summer.

“The paths they have walked, the steps they have taken, and the lives of those they have touched along the way, have brought them here to this altar. 

“Marriage is an act of free will, which we use to declare our devotion to one another.  Two hearts beating as one, united in one purpose, supporting each other in times of overflowing joy, and comforting each other in times of tremendous grief.  We become the foundations upon which we build our lives together, and the pillars that hold it up in strength.

“Today, guided by love, and wisdom, we celebrate the wedding of Victor Nikiforov and Yuri Katsuki.”

Yuri could already feel the tears in his eyes, but the constant and gentle stroke of his fiancé’s thumb across his own help keep him steady. 

The mayor nodded as he turned towards the first of the pair, "Do you, Victor Nikiforov, take this man to be your husband?"

The silver legend smiled and stood a little taller, holding both of Yuri's hands in his own, "Yuri Katsuki...I take you to be my husband, from this time onward, to join with you and to share in all that is to come.  To be your faithful spouse, to give and to receive, to speak and to listen, to inspire and respond; a commitment made in love, kept in faith, and eternally made new.  Whatever lies ahead, good or bad, we will face together.  Distance may test us for a time, and time may try us.  But if we look to each other first, we will always see a friend.  Yuri...look to me for all the days to come...today, I take my place as your husband."

The mayor continued, "And do you, Yuri Katsuki, take this man to be your husband?"

Brown eyes rose back up to meet blue, and he swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, "Victor Nikiforov..." His voice quaked a little, and he took a deep breath before he could continue, "I take you to be my husband.  To share the good times - and hard times - side by side.  I humbly give you my hand and my heart, as a sanctuary of warmth and peace, and pledge my faith and love to you.  Just as this circle is without end," He said, and gently pulled Victor’s right hand up, kissing the ring upon his finger, "...My love for you is eternal.  Just as it is made of incorruptible substance, my commitment to you will never fail.  Today...I take my place as your husband."

The mayor nodded, and looked out past them to the witnesses, "Now, we celebrate one of life's greatest moments.  To cherish the words which have united Victor and Yuri in marriage.  Marriage is the promise between two people who love each other, and who trust in each other, who honor each other as individuals, and who choose to spend the rest of their lives together.  This ceremony will not create a relationship that does not already exist between you.  It is a symbol of how far you have come.  It is a symbol of the promises you will make to each other, to continue growing stronger as individuals and as partners.  No matter what challenges you face, you now face them together, and no matter how much you succeed, you now do so together.  The love between you joins you now as One.  And so...it is with great honor that I pronounce you...Husband and Husband.  Grooms…you may kiss your groom."

They both stepped closer to one other.  Victor reached his right hand up, brushing the back of his fingers against one cheek, and savored in the warmth of it when Yuri pressed it to his opened palm.  Yuri brought his own hand up to press against it in turn, and gave it a good nuzzle, breathing in the scent of the silver’s skin and subtle cologne.  Yuri then matched the gesture, pressing his other palm to Victor’s cheek, and offered a soft brush of his thumb under the man’s left eye; an unintentional choice, but Yuri owned it easily, offering a protective look behind the sheer joy of the moment.  One final step closer, and they kissed each other warmly, hearing the sounds of clapping rise up and echo all around them. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

There had been an unexpected downpour while the ceremony took place, but the sun shone brightly through the few remaining clouds.  The wet, expansive was practically glowing in its light.  People slowly started to come out from their hastily-found shelters.  Birds flew down to splash in the puddles.

Yuri hadn't been able to see any of it though, too busy beaming over the sight of the marriage license in his hands.  It was still so hard for him to believe it was really there.  He sat patiently on a bench not far from the Town Hall.  Victor was right there next to him, explaining something, but Yuri was off in his own little world.

"Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Yuri looked over at him, mentally coming back down from orbit, "Sorry...my mind wandered a little."

The Russian huffed a laugh at him, "I was trying to tell you how you can get your documents changed.  Are you with me now?  Back on Earth?"

"Yes, sorry..." He answered, and carefully put the paper back inside its envelope, making sure no corners were bent or torn as it slid back into place, "Go ahead...I'm listening."

"You'll have to start with the Court house." Victor started again, and pulled Yuri close to have him lean on him where they sat, "That's where you can do the legal name change." He started playing with that black hair idly, running his fingers through it as his arm curled behind the man's neck, "Then you take those papers to the Japanese Embassy.  They'll issue you the new passport."

Yuri stared at the yellow envelope in his hands for a moment, "...Japan is one of those places where men nearly never have any reason to change their family name.  I hope they don't give me any grief when I ask them to change mine."

"Maybe it won't be as big a deal in an Embassy." Victor suggested, "Let's not borrow trouble.  We'll figure it out.  Today is too beautiful to worry about something that may not be a problem.  You ready to go?"

Yuri turned to look out at the bright sky, "The way the downpour came, it's like it washed away all the problems we've had for the last few weeks."

Victor nodded, and lifted his free hand to gently pull his husband's face around with a finger under his chin, "And maybe you can start to get your beauty sleep again." He teased, and offered a kiss, "If anyone in this world deserves it, it's you."

"Has it been that obvious?" Yuri wondered, brows furrowed slightly

 "I didn't want to worry you more than you already were," The silver explained, and pushed himself up to his feet, then offered his hands down to bring his partner up as well, "As tender as my face was before, there were a number of occasions where turning onto my side at night would wake me up.  Most of the time, I could see that your sleep was filled with fits and starts.  I just hugged you tighter and hoped you got what you needed."

"Jeeze, even through all that you were still watching out for me..."

"Of course.  It's my pleasure and my duty." Victor answered, and slid his hand around to thread fingers with his husband's. 

Next order of business on their Barcelona Tour was a celebratory dinner.  Their sight-seeing day before the Final had given them a list of places they'd wanted to go - had they more time back then - and they each knew just the place to look for. 

Can Solé was all but directly on the coast of the Balearic Sea.  It sat at the junction of a small corridor of streets, with its old-style arched wooden doorway book-ended by two quaint windows, filled with shelves of wine bottles and olive oils.  The second floor was spacious despite its low square-footage, with pale yellow walls, blue-and-yellow striped linen curtains - pinned up to let the afternoon light in - lamps between each window-frame, with vertical pairs of framed pictures, mostly hand-drawn caricatures.  At the head of the room, between two large windows, was a door-like panel that looked out over a narrow balcony with a thin, wrought-iron railing.  A two-person table was set beside the glass, with dark oak chairs, a blue under-cloth and white over-cloth.  Set between the men who were set there, two wine glasses each - one for wine, one for water - as well as a cast-iron skillet of golden rice, mussels, and various sizes of shrimp.  They'd gotten through a quarter of it before Victor's eyes widened in surprise over a mouth-full.

"...What's with the look?" Yuri asked cautiously, "Bite something unsavory?"

Victor shook his head, fork still perched between his lips.  He twisted in his seat to reach around for the offending interruption, and withdrew his phone thereafter, "...Oh, it's Yurio." He said flatly, fork still set between his teeth, “I suppose I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls long enough.”

"We never told him what we were up to." Yuri commented, looking only mildly ashamed as he smiled, “…Oh that we even left.”

"Mh." The silver nodded, and pulled the utensil free as he clicked to accept the call, "Hey."

"Idiot, where are you!?" The blond blurted, "You've been missing from practice for two days and Yakov's about to shit a brick over it!"

Yuri choked back a laugh, pulling a hand up in front of his mouth.

Yurio hollered at someone off-camera for a moment, "Yeah, Victor finally picked up.  He's not dead."  He then turned back to face him, "Seriously.  Where the hell did you go?  People went by your place and said it looked abandoned.  Everyone was freaking out.”

"We did kind of abandon my place, so they were half right."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Victor just smiled deviously, "Give me two minutes, then check my Instagram."

"What!?  Vict-"

The FaceTime session was cut short, and Victor motioned for his husband to come closer, "Get out the paperwork."

Yuri nodded quickly and grabbed his chair, and ‘hopped’ it around to Victor's side of the table.  He then pulled the envelope carefully from his backpack; he made sure there was nothing on his fingers, and withdrew the precious paper.  Victor curled up close around him, and held his phone out in selfie-mode.  Cheek to cheek, and giving a wink to the camera as Yuri held up their certificate, Victor clicked the 'shutter' and pulled the phone back to check the image.  Satisfied, he quickly went over to post the pic online while his husband put the paper back into safe keeping.

"Set location...Barcelona...  Hashtag #CanSolé, #JustMarried, #Victuri!" Victor was nearly cackling with satisfaction as he posted it.  Then, he leaned back in his seat, free arm resting on the back of Yuri’s chair, "Wait for it....  Waaaaait for it..."

Yuri's stomach was tight from excitement, and he checked his own phone to refresh the feed and see the new picture from v-nikiforov.  It already had 37 reactions and 8 comments by the time he got there...one of which stood out, and made Yuri snort with sudden laughter.

yuri-plisetsky: ...fucking seriously.

Victor's phone blew up again, but this time it was Yakov, and the Russian held it to his ear tenderly even as Yuri could hear the older gentleman yelling as he took his chair back around, "Yes...yes we are...  No, not entirely sure yet.  We're going to meet you all at Worlds.  ...No, probably back to Hastesu, at least for a little while.  ...Obviously!  We're way overdue for a visit with Clan Katsuki!"

Yuri's own phone started ringing while that conversation went on, and he smiled to see that it was Yuko behind that FaceTime request.  Unsurprisingly, she and her girls were in the frame when he clicked it on, "Hey guys."

"Congratulations!!!" They all said together; the triplets had their own phones in-hand with the Instagram feed showing the photo. 

They were in their pajamas, and Yuri suddenly realized how late it must've been in Japan, "I hope none of this woke any of you up."

"Only a little bit." Yuko admitted with a weak laugh, "Axel was the first to see Victor's post, and it just went crazy from there."

"Is Uncle Victor still there!?" The girls asked in unison.

Yuri nodded happily, and turned his phone around to show the Russian sitting side-face to them, phone-arm perched on the back-rest of his chair while Yakov continued yelling.  He paused when he saw the familiar faces, he pulled the phone away from his ear temporarily to wave at them merrily, "Heyyyy~!" 

"You guys finally did it!"

"Yes~!" He confirmed, and winked at them for good measure, "It's only been about an hour since we got our license."

"You have to let us arrange a big party!" Lutz said, getting in the front of the field, "You're coming back after Worlds anyway so it's perfect!!"

“You better not bail on us again!” Axel warned.

“Of course not, we’ll make it this time for sure.” The pair said in unison.

"We'll set it up at the Ice Castle!" Loop suggested from behind her sister.

"It'll be a huge deal, like Hot Springs on Ice!" Axel pulled up on the side, trying to get into the frame but only managing the top of her face.

Victor got excited for it, and threw an arm into the air, "Yeah!  We'll see you in a couple weeks!  Do svidanija!" He told them before finally breaking away again to listen to Yakov again; the man hadn’t even noticed Victor wasn’t listening that whole time, and was still yelling at him.

Yuri turned the phone back to show himself, "Don't make it that big a deal...okay?  We're already going to have some explaining to do when people ask why we did this without inviting th-"

"Are you kidding!?  Yuri!  You just got hitched to Victor Nikiforov.  How can you not want to brag about it to everyone on this planet!?" Axel called out excitedly, "It's already huge!"

"Well, sure...but..."

"No buts!  We're gonna have a massive party!"  Loop agreed.

"...Guys!"

"We've got this, don't worry!" Lutz finished.

"GUYS!" Yuri blurted between clenched teeth, trying not to get too loud while in the restaurant.  They finally went quiet and started listening, "I know you mean well and everything, and what you want to do is really nice, but...I don't really want the entire universe to show up in Hasetsu."

“What?  Why not?” The triplets asked together, squishing up against one another as they all tried to get in the frame at the same time, “But it’ll be really cool!  We can get all the invitations out for you!”

Yuko saw the worried look on her friend's face and pulled her kids close, "Yuri's not the sort to advertize, girls.  Remember?  We can always make it an exciting small party."

“But doesn’t Uncle Victor get a say?  Wouldn’t he want a huge extravaganza?” The triples pleaded.

"It’s not that he doesn’t get a say.” Yuri tried to reassure, “But we already talked about what we wanted to do for the formal ceremony.  We both separately kind of imagined it to be a small, personal affair, with just close family and friends." Yuri pointed out, "It’s a real wedding, you know?  Not a celebrity game-sho-…show?“ He stammered, seeing his husband try to get his attention.  Victor waved his hand over, then held his palm out, and Yuri set his phone onto it. 

The silver Russian turned the camera to face himself, "Yuri speaks for us both.  Just something small this time, okay?  Everything else about our lives has been on full display for the whole world to see.  Let us have this one thing."

The triplets sighed audibly, but agreed, "Yes, Uncle Victor..."

"Don't look so glum!" He said cheerfully, "Quality over quantity.  If it's only a small number of people, it'll be better for everyone!  I know you can do it!"

They let themselves start to get excited again, and Victor returned the phone to its owner.  Yuri was a bit surprised at him, but he decided to wrap up the conversation before mentioning it, "I'll let you guys go back to sleep then.  We'll see you after Worlds, okay?"

"Bye, Yuri!"

"Goodnight!"

He clicked out of the window, and saw the pop-up messages that several other people had tried to call him while the previous conversation was active.  Minako, Phichit, his parents, even Chris.  He just put the phone aside - face-down and set to mute - and looked up again to see Victor just smiling at him.  Yuri could still hear Yakov in the background, and gave a wry look, but then smiled anyway, “…What could he still be going on about?”

“Honestly, I’m not totally sure at this point,” The Russian mused, his mic turned off, “Probably all the same stuff as before, just with more words.  Let me finish this up with him real quick and get off the hook.”

Yuri nodded, and started picking at their Arroz al Ajillo dish, taking a few bites more of the shrimp as he waited.  When Victor was finally free from his lashing, Yuri offered his hand across the table, “Sorry if I spoke out of turn earlier, with the girls.”

“Hah?” Victor blinked at him, “What do you mean?”

“It occurred to me when you reached for my phone that I might’ve put words in your mouth.  I hope I didn’t misinterpret the stuff you told me about your dream.” He explained, “I just thought, when you said you only imagined a handful of us, that it meant you didn’t envision it being a huge event.”

“No, you were correct on that.” The silver nodded and squeezed his husband’s hand reassuringly, “Everything on the ice may be love, but that doesn’t mean all our love has to be televised.  There actually are occasions in life that deserve to be our-eyes-only.  We don’t owe our happiness to the public, and we don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“Victor…”

“Win gold for me at Worlds, and that’ll be more than enough of a spectacle.  It might be the only time in my life where I'd be content standing on a lower tier, and wouldn’t that be something?"

Nearly dropping his fork, Yuri balked slightly, "Why in the world would you want to be on a lower tier?"

"Because you're the only person in the world that I like being under."

Yuri was practically on the floor after that, nose bleeding everywhere. 

Victor just laughed as he leaned to look at him, "See?  Now you have to win gold," He taunted, incredibly amused by the whole thing, and stepped out of his chair to help put his husband back into his own, "Just so I know exactly what's going through your mind when you step up there."

"Never mind what's going through my mind right now?" Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the flow, and accepted a napkin from the table.

"Well, it is our wedding night..."

"Oh, I'm not going to make it that easy for you." He challenged, giving Victor quite the look, and reached his hand to return the gesture, cupping the man's face lightly to rub his thumb against the man's lower lip.

"Yuri, stop that; we're in public."

"Everything on the ice is love, isn't it?  Why not off the ice, too?"  He gave a coy smile, "So...seduce me."

Cool blue eyes stared forward, practically in disbelief of what he heard.  He turned away only for a second to raise his hand, "Check please!"

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

True to Yuri's word, he made Victor work to seduce him for the entire rest of the afternoon and into the evening.  By the time Victor had finished gathering all the things he needed to make the night one to remember, they were both carrying numerous bags...though, to be fair, most of it wasn't just for that night.  Seven bottles of wine, two of champagne, one bottle of Baileys, freshly ground coffee, several other things...even some curious mixed white-and-milk-chocolate seashell-shaped confections, all in the bags.

It was an effort to get everything into their hotel room, and Yuri started pulling bottles from the totes to set them on the table on the far end of the room.  He looked at each one as he set them down, and read the labels and vintages.

I don't even know why I'm looking.  I don't know a thing about wine...

"Save some of those for when we get back to Yu-Topia!" Victor asked, "I want to mull them for my new in-laws."

"My dad's going to go nuts over it." Yuri said, "He's worse than I am with alcohol."

"Then it'll just be a good excuse for us to dismiss ourselves, won't it?" The Russian suggested, and shrugged off his jacket.  He set it on its hanger in the closet, and stepped over to join his husband by the table.  He slid his hands up the man's chest - barely touching him as his hands went into the shoulder-space of that blue pea-coat - and pushed the heavy garment off with the back of his wrists. 

Yuri could feel the man's lips against his own, but like his hands...there was barely a whisper of a touch between them.  Anytime the Russian got a bit too close, Yuri would tease and pull away.  The pea-coat slid off his arms, Victor stepped lightly away to put it in the closet next to his own, "You're really going to make me work hard tonight, aren't you?"

He received an enthusiastic singular nod, "I've evolved.” Yuri explained, looking straight up as the silver returned to comb both hands through his hair, “I used to be a pork cutlet fatale that seduces men...now I'm something different.  All that erotic energy that used to go out into the crowd; I’ve condensed it into a performance just for one.  Just for you." He said, quieter, and watched his husband move to sit beside him, eyes looking on intently.

Victor returned the gaze with one of his own, "You honor me." He replied, gently brushing the side of their shoulders against one another. 

“And what do you intend to do with that knowledge?” Yuri wondered daringly.  One hand came up again under his chin, gently offering to guide his face closer.  Victor was pleased to see it work, and leaned in turn, softly closing the gap.  Yuri closed his eyes, and in his mind, he could feel the kiss before it happened...but then it didn't.  He could sense the warmth of his partner's breath against his skin, ever so close, but not quite completely touching.  He felt the man's nose-tip brushing his lip, then move up to the tip of his own as Victor's hand slid down, and then up again across his chest, tracing a finger over his collarbone, right up to his neck and under his chin, "Now you're teasing me..."

"You're playing hard to get."

"You're closer than you think."

"Don't say that; I won't try as hard.  Never just give me anything I want.  Effort makes one appreciate their rewards more."  The Russian teased, lowering his fingers once more to start pulling gingerly at buttons.  With that suit-jacket hanging loose on his husband’s shoulders, Victor slid his hand within, feeling the warmth between the layers, and leaned in to nuzzle against the man’s neck a little.  Soft kisses under Yuri’s ear practically put him into a trance, and he held there eagerly soaking in each tender press of lips.  A supple palm cupped around the younger man’s waist, pulling him in closer; he paused only when he felt the delicate nudge of fingers on his own clothes; Yuri was working the buttons of his vest, from the bottom up.

More garments parted, and Yuri sat up a little bit straighter so he could tug at that silky tie, threading the length of it through the knot until he could slip it out from around the Russian’s neck.  Victor shrugged out of his blazer then, and Yuri pushed the vest off his shoulders soon after, leaving a small heap of clothes on the bed.  With Victor’s arms slightly pinned back though as the fabric slid away, Yuri pushed up to one knee on the edge of the bed, and stood to lean over the silver.  Half-lidded blue eyes followed him eagerly, until he found himself gently guided down onto his back, fingers tracing around his jaw. 

A few more teasing glances, and Victor threaded his fingers around the back of his husband’s neck and head, feeling the softness of his hair as he pulled him into a long kiss.  He could feel the tension of their travels leave him, melting away as he felt absorbed by the younger man’s warmth.  He hummed his contentment against those lips, only to feel them lift away again as Yuri leaned back again.  Hazel eyes locked into his own to keep him where he was, and he took no small pleasure in watching as Yuri started to work at the buttons of his dress-shirt.  One by one, they folded through one another, until enough skin was revealed beneath that Yuri could descend into it, kissing at his neck and collarbones as each new inch was exposed.

Victor let himself relax into the moment, drooping his head back into the blankets.  The feeling of lips traveling across his chest and down his stomach was intoxicating, and he closed his eyes to savor each kiss.  They made it down to his navel before circling around and coming back up.  When Yuri’s eyes were on him again, Victor couldn’t help but whistle coyly, “You are quite something, Yuri Nikiforov.”

“I learned from the best, didn’t I?” He mused, his free right hand working the clasp at the man’s waistband.  It came loose easily enough, but before he could do much more, Victor gently touched fingers around his wrist, and brought the limb back up to his lips. 

He kissed the younger man’s wrist, “There’s no hurry.  I still have some catching up to do, after all.”

Yuri smiled at that, and relaxed his posture a bit, letting the silver nudge him down onto his own back.  The light-blue tie came loose and slipped away, lost in the growing pile of clothes.  They each took the moment the nudge the shoes off their feet as well, and hoisted a few feet up onto the bed properly before turning to one another.  Victor coaxed his husband into the pillow-pile, flat on his back, and finished the task of undoing all those dreadful buttons.  Yuri’s lithe frame came completely into his sights then, and Victor spread the shirt wide, drinking in the vision of that bare skin.  He then did just as he'd taught the man, and started laying soft kisses against every inch of him, slowly moving around to have a taste of each part.  Victor, of course, had no hesitation about finding a nipple to tease, and he descended on one rather quickly, drawing up a needy gasp from his partner.  First just a kiss, then a nibble, and he turned the tip of his tongue around it in a circle before offering a faint suck.  That last part made Yuri wiggle where he lay, and Victor savored in it, traveling his left hand down the man’s front, feeling at every muscle as it tensed and relaxed to his touch.  His kisses soon followed, brushing the tease of his hair as he went.

Victor nibbled a little bit at the crest of each hip, and moved his fingers so discretely that Yuri didn’t even feel the button of his slacks come undone until he heard the zipper.  Yuri narrowly opened one eye to spy at the man’s endeavors, but thought something better of it.  He combed his fingers through that silver hair, and pushed himself up onto an elbow.  The distraction was enough for him to be able to shrug out of his dress-shirt, and he pulled it out from under where he sat on the underside of it, casting it to the pile.  He then gave a bit of a sultry, half-lidded gaze, and turned himself over, pulling one of the pillows under his head as he hugged it, and cast his sights over a shoulder to see what Victor would do with him for it. 

Join him, is what he did; Victor twisted to get his button-down off as well, and eagerly descended on that freely offered swath of skin, feasting on its heat.  He trailed the tip of his tongue from the dip of Yuri’s lower back to his nape, and kissed each shoulder several times as he worked his way from one side to the other.  Hands pulled at the loosened slacks until he could completely pull them free of those legs, and Victor savored the back of each thigh.  He coyly bit down on the elastic waistband of those black shorts, and Yuri obliged to lift his hips to help them be pulled away as well.  There, naked in that bed but for his socks, Yuri lay on his chest, closing his eyes into the pillow as he soaked in every single touch. 

“Perfect.  Absolutely perfect.” Victor commented quietly, drawing eyes onto himself again.  He traced his fingers across the skater’s ample bum, admiring the curve and suppleness of it, and smiled at the sight of a flushed cheek where it was barely visible past one shoulder.  He kissed at the younger man’s back again before making quick work of what remained of his own clothes – and Yuri’s socks -  then descended atop the skater’s thin frame.  Careful to not just mount him right then and there, Victor continued his gentle teases a little while longer, and subtly started looking for their sexy-times satchel.  When he found it, he sat back on the man’s legs, and rifled into the little bag to find the bottle kept inside.

Yuri listened to the sounds, envisioning what it all looked like without actually looking, and drifted into relaxing and softening himself.  He could hear the bottle-cap click open, the pour of liquid into Victor’s hand, and the click as it was closed again, then the soft, slippery noises of it being spread across both of the Russian’s palms.  They kneaded down onto his backside soon after, and Victor massaged the glistening gel everywhere he could.  Before long, the pressure of eager hands moved off, and Yuri felt the silver move up along the back of his legs, pressing that throbbing heat against the back of his hips with a needy push.  He hummed a quiet breath, and lifted his head a bit as hands, then forearms, slipped beneath his chest to hold him closer.

Victor gently rocked there, clinging tightly to the younger man’s back, breathing in the smell of his hair and body as he slid up and down through the cleft between them.  Now and then, the pushes would be more urgent, but Victor would slow down again just to savor the warmth and the closeness.  Yuri half-anticipated that his husband would divert an arm to position himself better, but that wasn’t quite right.  Instead, Victor lifted off of him, and gently tapped his side to nudge him into rolling over.

Curious, Yuri looked back over his shoulder, and released the pillow so he could turn onto his back.  Victor came down on him soon after, and pressed a long, needy kiss to his lips.  They each hummed a happy sigh with it, and Yuri raised his hands to hold gently to the sides of the man’s head.  Fingers threaded through silver hair, perched atop those precious ears, and he parted his lips a bit as he felt the tip of a tongue touch against them.  Yuri could taste the man better than ever in that moment, and he relished in it until Victor started to pull away again, sucking on the end of his own tongue as he went.  Yuri was already starting to break a sweat, and they hadn’t even done anything that rambunctious yet.  Victor smirked at him, and lifted his knees where they were still astride the younger man’s legs, moving to squeeze between them instead. 

One leg went around the Russian’s waist, but the other perched against his shoulder, and Victor tilted his head to kiss it while it was there.  Hands rubbed and kneaded at supple, athletic thighs as they found their way lower, gently teasing at center as they went right by, and slid up Yuri’s chest again.  Hips pressed tight against one another, and Yuri squirmed a little where he was pinned, “V-Victor…”

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He answered, watching carefully, gleefully.  Yuri’s face was flushed, and he pawed at the legs holding him in place, “Tell me, Yuri…”

“U-use your hands…your m-mouth…everything…”

“Hmm…” Victor slid his hands all over that bare frame, making the skin shine with the slick liquid.  He let his fingers brush across proud nubs as he worked his way down again.  Wrists pinched gently against that throbbing arousal - his own ignored for the moment - and took that flesh into his hand.  Slowly at first, relishing in every moan and squeak, each deep breath and reluctant grunt, Victor then went a little bit faster, squeezing and sliding his fingers over that sensitive length. 

The tip flushed red; the whole of it glistened with that fluid, and Yuri did everything he could not to cry out.  He clenched his teeth and tossed his head back against the pillows, whimpering with each pass until he thought he was fit to burst.  He fumbled to clasp his hands around his husband’s just to have him ease off before he could finish, “Y-you’re too…too good at that…”

Victor’s eyes flashed, and he softened his grasp, turning his hand to clasp one that had stopped him and offered a gentle squeeze, “I just like to hear you.  Guess I got carried away.” He whispered, smiling as he decided on what to do next to titillate the man.  As Yuri caught his breath, Victor started to scoot back where he sat, and kissed at fingers, hands, wrists, and then down to the skater’s belly, and lower.  A lick from root to tip signaled his arrival, and Victor nibbled at the length of it, kissing at the tip.  One hand gently lifted the member up, and a hot mouth descended on it in turn, offering gentler stimulation.  Yuri couldn’t help but run his fingers through that silver hair as Victor’s head bobbed and turned, losing himself in that heat.  So lost in the feeling as he was, Yuri hardly noticed when Victor moved again, and pressed his hips against his back end.  One eye cracked open though as he felt a finger trace along his jaw, and he looked up at that kind face.

“Eyes on me, Yuri.” The silver said, and pressed forward.  Yuri grunted a gasp as he felt the pressure, but unlike the first – and subsequent number of times since – it got easer every time.  It was still new enough to be unusual though, and he pressed the flat of one hand against Victor’s stomach to brace himself.  Patient and observant, Victor went slowly forward, withdrew a bit, then forward again, until he felt his partner’s body relax around him and he could slip all the way in.  Hips rolled in as Victor leaned down atop the younger man, kissing against shoulder and neck as he began to rock against him. 

Each push inwards drew a grunted gasp, and Victor delighted in each one.  Fingers scraping across his back made it even better.  When he was sure Yuri had loosened up enough, he perched onto his hands and picked up his tempo a bit.  The thrill of watching his partner just feeling what he did was enthralling.  Every twist, turn, head tilt, back arch, or pinch of legs around his waist; they were like musical notes in the song of their love.  Victor conducted that orchestra to its pinnacle, but then a thought occurred to him when he hadn’t put his partner over the edge yet.

“You wanna try it?”

“Y-youwannah waagh?”

Victor huffed a laugh, “Let’s trade places.” He cooed, and with a satisfied sigh, slid out of his husband’s heat.  Yuri was practically delirious, but Victor rolled him from his side onto his back again, and moved to part his knees around the younger man’s body.  A little bit more of the fun-fluid was squeezed into his hand, and he spread it over that taut flesh. 

Yuri suddenly started to come around to what was happening, and was stunned when he realized he was lucid enough to understand what he was even looking at.  Victor straddled over his hips, and positioned over that member, “V-Victorwhatareyoudoing-“ He stammered.

“What, you don’t want to?”

“Do I not want to?” Yuri echoed, only to shake his hands back and forth, “It-it’s not exactly that…I just…  What?” He couldn’t form thoughts to make words happen, “I can’t brain good right now.”

Victor chuffed, “I want to try it…  You’ve been letting me do everything so far, so it’s only fair.  Ready?”

He was ready, but he wasn’t ready either.  It wasn’t unlike when Victor used his mouth, but it was just different enough – maybe most importantly, in Yuri’s head – that as soon as he felt that pressure surround him, he hit his limit and cried out that grunt of climax.  His whole frame trembled, hair sticking to his face where he’d been sweating, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. 

Victor didn’t move off though, holding his position there as he sat back against that throbbing length.  He just let out a sighed gasp of his own, trying to get used to it.  When Yuri effectively went limp under him though, he supposed he could give the man his time to recover, and cozied in behind him, nosing at the back of his neck and shoulder, “You get better at this every time, Yuri~!” He praised, “Pretty soon you’ll have mastered your Eros.”

“I-I…wasn’t expecting that last bit…” He panted, but rubbed his cheek against his partner’s brow, “Sorry for not…lasting?”

The silver puffed a quiet laugh, “That was my fault.  I pushed you right to the edge and then pulled the rug out from under you.  I’ll give you better warning next time.” He mumbled against that damp skin, “I think it’s something I should get used to.”

“You don’t have to…” Yuri retorted, “I…I mean, unless you want to…or I do…something?  Auhhh…I can’t think…”

“Go to sleep, Yuri.” Victor laughed, giving a reassuring squeeze to his little spoon, “Today was a really great day.  Ja ljublju tebja." (I love you...)

“Victor…”

"Hm?"

"Ya…toje tzibiye…loobloo…" (“Ja tože tebja lublju” - I love you, too.)

Victor had to lift his head up fully to look at his partner at the sound of that, and when he saw a brown eye looking at him from where his partner's head had been submerged in the downy pillows, offered a surprised smile, "Where did you learn that?"

"Oh... Did...did I say it wrong?" He panted nervously, “I…I practiced…”

"No..." The silver answered, and lowered down again to tighten his hug adoringly, "...I just don't remember teaching you those words. I'm..." The Russian reached up to rub his eyes behind his husband's back, and smiled, "I'm just happy to hear them. You said them perfectly."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

It was pitch dark when Victor twitched awake, woken from a light sleep by the buzz of a text message and a blinking, blindingly-bright cell-phone screen as it flashed against the wall.  Yuri hadn't budged.  Blearily, the Russian reached an uncoordinated hand over the edge of the bed towards the nightstand, trying to find his phone in the dark.  When he grabbed it, he rolled over onto his back, knee raised up to under the heavy hotel blankets.  Blue eyes squinted at that rectangular radiance, but as he checked the phone’s settings to reduce the brightness and made it visible, Victor rose to sit upright.  He wasn't sure if he should be worried or angry at what he saw.

For one, it turned out the buzzing wasn't even coming from his own phone.  It was Yuri's that he held in his hand.

Second...the message scrawled across the screen came from a name he hadn't expected to see.

Mikhail Rozovsky
[Congratulations, Yuri!  I just saw the post on Victor's Instagram!]

Victor sneered slightly, He’s following my Insta page…?  His eyes turned away from the screen and trailed over to where his partner had been sound asleep; he shifted a little under the blanket, but stayed unconscious, even as Victor reached over angrily to grab his hand.  More specifically, his thumb.  He pressed it to the sensor and unlocked the device, giving him access to the archive of whatever messages had already been sent.

He paused a moment though as the phone brought up the text message chat window and gave a brief preview of what had recently been said.  Nothing in the last few days at least, he'd noticed, trying not to read the actual messages.  Part of him felt like he was already intruding too much...but another thought he deserved to know.

And so...he scrolled to the beginning, though it hadn't been far to go to find it.

Mon, Mar 06, 3:17PM:

[Hey.  Are you still in St. Petersburg?]

[Victor?]

[No, this is Yuri.]

[Oh!  Hey!  Did Victor tell you to message me?  I'm still in the city but I'm at the train station, about to leave.]

[Victor doesn't know I reached out.]

[Ah, I see.]
[Can I do something for you?]
[Yuri?]

[Can you stay in St. Petersburg for one more day?]

[Sure.  What do you need?]

[I want to meet with you.  Victor practices late into the evenings lately.  I don’t always go with him though, so I can get away without him being suspicious.]

[Where do you want to meet?]

[There's a cafe I can walk to.  I'll link you the address.  They're open late.  Be there at 11pm tonight.]

[Okay.]

Fri, Mar 17, 1:28AM:

[Congratulations, Yuri!  I just saw the post on Victor's Instagram!]

That was the end of it.  His heart pounded in his chest, anxiety and fear creeping up in him.  His left eye and cheek started to hurt a little, and the pain of his recent assault was new in his flesh again…but then the old trauma started to creep in.  A flash of long-repressed memory played unbidden in his mind, and he saw the fist come down into this face again like it was the first time all over again.

.

“Ne serdisʹ na nego! Ja tot, kto vodil ego na katok!” (Don't be mad at him!  I'm the one who took him to the skating rink!) A woman's voice cried out, shrill and scared.

“Ja govoril tebe nikogda bolʹše ne pozvoljatʹ emu katatʹsja na konʹkah! Skolʹko raz mne èto povtorjatʹ!?” (I told you to never let him skate again!  How many times do I have to say it!?)

'[You can't choose for Victor what he can and can't like!]'

'[I'm getting really good, papa!  If you let me go to St. Petersburg, I can compete and send money home when I win!  Coach Yakov says-]'

CRACK

“Konstantin!!”

The shrill sound of screaming rose into the air, followed by sobbing.

'[He's not your coach!  No son of mine is going to be a fucking dancer!  You'll be working in the steel mill just like the rest of us!]' The bear bellowed furiously, spittle at the end of his mouth.

Tatiyana fell to her knees at her child's side, and lifted him carefully, though he screamed all the more with every touch.  Tears fell from her eyes, and she gaped at her husband.  Beside her, Yakov was crouched on a knee in the open doorway, and he looked up as well, '[He'll be more successful as an athlete, Konstantin...give him a chance.  He has the potential to be-]'

'[Don't tell me what to do, old man!  This is my family and I make the decisions for what's best for it.  Victor isn't going anywhere.]'

'[Victor, let me look-]'

'[My eye...mama, I can't...I can't see!!]'

.

Victor could remember the sound of his own hysterical screaming like he'd been doing it again right where he sat.  He cringed, trying to shake it off, and looked back at the phone in his hand.  He crossed his legs under the blankets and looked at the touch-screen keyboard under the text window.  His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed...and then his thumbs moved.

[Why are you talking to Yuri behind my back?]

It was a moment before Victor saw the animated dots on the bottom left of the screen, indicating a reply being typed, and he felt a knot in his stomach when he saw them.

[Oh, hey Victor.  Scroll up 2 inches.]

[I already read it.  You two met behind my back and talked in secret.  How could you?]

[He's the one who contacted me first.]

Victor growled at the answers.

[He's just trying to protect you.] Mikhail continued, [Why are you so mad anyway?  You seemed happy when I came by the rink last week.  At first, anyway.]

[That's because you approached me in a place I felt comfortable.  THIS is an overreach.]

[Again, he contacted me first.]
[Don't be mad at him for wanting you to have what he has.]

[What's that supposed to mean?]

[He was practically interviewing me when we met that night.  He wanted to make sure that if he approached you with the idea of meeting with me again, that he felt right about it.  I told him I'd support whatever decision he made on the matter.  I assume he hadn't come to that point yet though, given how he apparently hadn't told you we'd spoken.]

Victor scoffed at the words. "You already knew where to find me by then,” he growled. If it were his own phone, he'd have thrown it across the room and gone back to sleep by then, but since it wasn't, he held it tightly and grit his teeth.  After a minute or two, he started typing again.