#could not stop thinking of Yuri on ice and the grand prix final banquet so this came out from it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alitaimagines · 5 years ago

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request: no

georgi popovich x fem reader

note: i wrote this on my other blog but I feel like you guys would enjoy it as well.

fandom: yuri on ice

“Oh wow. I’m the one who’s a clown?” You exclaimed as stared at the statement Emil made. “Right, the next time you fall on your ass during your performance, make sure I’m not around or I will scream out what you just told me. I’ll make sure to hold a sign that reads clown in large letters. Better yet, I’ll write a sign that says, "you’re not a clown, you’re the entire circus Emil.”“

Emil gave you a bewildered look. "I’m not the one who’s hiding feelings for a certain someone.” You whipped your head around to look at Mila. “You told Emil I like Leo?” As you were about to kick drop Mila, Emil laughed. “No she didn’t but you just did.”

You growled as you threw your head back in annoyance, “Not a word out of you Nekola or I’ll tell Michele about your little crush on Sara.” Emil put his hands up in surrender as you sipped your coffee in confidence. “So Mila, how’s your love life progressed since we’ve last seen each other?”

Mila shrugged, “The same shit. Trust me Emil, Sara won’t ever see you that way.” You choked on your coffee realizing what she meant. “It’s best you figure out another girl to go after. I mean there are so many to choose from that one is bound to find you attractive.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Emil shrieked at Mila’s comment. You sighed and gave a look too Mila. “Emil, Sara is a whole lesbian. When two girls like each other, they tend to start dating, you know!”

Emil gave you a confused look as you widened your eyes at him. “Emil, I swear to fucking god, it’s like I’m talking to fucking five year old. You really need to stop doing whatever extreme sports you partake in because it’s getting into your head.” You sucked some air in before screaming to Emil. “MILA AND SARA ARE LESBIANS. THE TWO OF THEM LIKE EACH OTHER.”

Once he realized what you meant, his eyes widened, “Wow, it’s like I’m the seventh wheel. I’ve truly upgraded.” You rolled your eyes at what Emil said as you scrolled through your phone. Just as you were about to exit Instagram, you noticed Leo’s last photo.

Leo had a girl wrapped around his arm as she kissed his cheek with a heart emoji as his caption. Mila and Emil noticed that your mood had entirely changed. She took the phone from your hands and scanned the photo realizing what happened.

“Oh no, ( your name ), I’m so sorry.” Mila whispered as Emil took the phone from Mila’s hands. “I thought you told me that Leo didn’t like Camila.”

You laughed from the bitterness as Emil didn’t say a word. “That’s what he told me when we were together at the club last week and now I have to see him tonight.” The two of them rubbed your back to try to sooth you but they could tell the tears you were holding back.

“Listen, if we run into Leo and Camila, we can ignore them.” Mila offered as you shrugged. “And if you want to leave early, you have every right too. I’m sure Sara and I will go home with you.”

“If I see them together tonight, I might actually lose it.” You whispered as the three of you walked into the banquet hall. The London Cup was holding a banquet for all of the competitors the night before the competition and since all of the coaches forced everyone to go, you were more than sure that Leo was going to be there. “Maybe I can make it out before I get seen by anyone.”

You spoke to soon as the paparazzi had already seen you. You checked your semi-tearstained face and tried to make sure you didn’t look completely destroyed from the face. You grabbed a brush and the powder from your bag and reapplied it to your face before walking in. Emil gave you one last look of confidence as you noticed the plethora of skaters on the floor.

Guang Hong and Phichit immediately noticed the three of you walking in. “Hey! You guys made it!” Phichit exclaimed as he embraced you into a hug. “Where are the Crispino twins?” Emil explained that Sara and Michele fell down with the cold due to temperature difference.

“Well, Leo and everyone else are in the back. We’re just waiting on the two of you to really start the party.” Guang Hong said as the two of them dragged the three of you to one of the rooms in the back. You stared at Mila and Emil as they noticed your uncomfortable look.

The room was filled with basically everyone from last years Grand Prix Final and the competitions prior to that. You noticed the only ones missing were Seung-Gil and Yurio. You knew Seung-Gil hated socializing, as did Yurio so it didn’t come off as a surprise.

You scanned the room and seen Leo. He was talking to a few people and as you realized that Camila wasn’t there, you had spoken too soon. Camila was walking back from the bathroom and immediately joined Leo. You wanted to turn around and ignore them but you had made eye contact with Leo.

He along with Camila ran towards you. You gulped down the lump in your throat as you tried to find Emil or Mila but they had been dragged off in different directions.

“Hey! This is-!” Leo started to exclaim before you cut him off. “I know who she is. I’ll see you around.” You gave the two a look before walking away and tried to find the closest bar. Leo looked like a kicked puppy as he continued to stare at you before walking away as Camila.

You were three years older than Leo and while you thought it was okay, others found it odd that you were so much older than Leo.

You found the bar to only see Georgi and Christophe there. Christophe was already on the brink of being passed out drunk as Georgi was drinking to himself. You didn’t know Georgi well but the two of you were mutual friends because of Mila.

“Hey Popovich.” You said as you slumped down on your chair. “How are you.”

He gave you a look before shrugging, “The same.”

“So we’re both heartbroken, that’s cool.” You exclaimed semi jokingly as you ordered two shots of Fireball whiskey. Georgi couldn’t help but laugh. “You too? With who?” You motioned discreetly to Leo as his eyes widened in realization. “To heartbreaks.”

The two of you clinked shot glasses together as the bitter taste of whiskey went down your throat. You shook off the bitterness as Georgi laughed at your reaction.

“Man, heartbreak fucking sucks. Cheating and being lead on are the fucking WORST.” You growled as you hit your head on the bar top. “Sometimes you just need to skate out your emotions. Everyone seen my season that was around Anya and it helped a bit.”

You shrugged, “I don’t think it would be suitable to make a routine about a relationship that never happened. Being lead on is a different kind of heartbreak if you ask me.” Georgi nodded as ordered another two rounds of whiskey. The two of you chugged them down again. “Isn’t it kind of fucked that we’re both just sitting here depressed?”

“Yeah but what can we do?” You smiled. “Tomorrow Beyonce is coming to London and I wanted to surprise Leo with the tickets but fuck that. Want to come with me instead?”

Georgi was surprised, “Sure. I don’t listen to her but I’ll go with.” You smiled as you dug into your purse and got the ticket. “They’re not the best kind of seats but hey, we’re going to fucking see BEYONCE!” Georgi laughed at your enthusiasm. As you discreetly looked over to Leo, you seen that he was staring at you but you didn’t bother to give him another look.

The night progressed as both you and Georgi continued to drink the night away. The two of you didn’t realize how much the two of you were actually drinking until you seen the bottle half finished.

Mila and Emil constantly made sure the two of you were okay since they knew the state of both your love lives. You were feeling the whiskey getting to you as Georgi was already slowly falling on his chair. Mila took advantage of the situation and played your favorite song.

“Oh my god, Georgi! It’s Check on It by Beyonce!” You drunkly squealed to him. “Come on!” You dragged him to the dance floor as you started the choreography to the song.

Mila was there when the Coachella performance was streaming on Youtube and seen the tears coming down your face as you watched Beyonce. She had watched you rewind the stream over ten times as you tried to learn the dance. Seeing you dance it perfectly didn’t come off as a surprise to her.

“YES ( YOUR NAME )!” Mila screamed as you started to take you jacket off. You started to back it up on Georgi as Mila and Emil whistled. Viktor was already drunkly joining you on the floor as he tried to follow your steps. Christophe followed and all of sudden, everyone was dancing on the floor. Georgi had a small blush on his face but didn’t stop you.

“PLAY IT AGAIN!” Mila screamed as the DJ did as he was instructed and replayed the song.

You woke up the next morning realizing you had to show your face at the London Cup in a few hours. You weren’t exactly in the mood to skate but it was your fault as well as Georgi’s for drinking so much. Mila wasn’t competing but she had accompanied you to the competition.

“Wow, I’m surprised you got up in time.” Mila joked as you were drying your hair after your shower. “You and Georgi were so drunk last night, it was ridiculous. He was super happy on the fact that you were dancing on him.” You gave a dry laugh as the two of you walked out of the hotel room.

“I wasn’t expecting to be having such a fun time with Georgi but it got my mind of Leo.” Mila bursted out laughing at the mention of Leo’s name. “He was so upset last night. When he seen you so close with Georgi, he was screaming in anger to Guang Hong.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, he could lead me on but the minute I start to have fun, I’m suddenly the bitch?” Mila shrugged as the two of you tried to hail a cab. “Plus, you know how I’ve been trying to find a partner for a partner competition? Georgi offered to be my partner!”

Mila’s eyes widened, “That’s great! I’m assuming Yakov is training the two of you?” You shook your head no. “My coach is. Yakov isn’t trained into couples skate but my coach is so she’s training us starting next week.”

As you made it to the arena, you noticed the packed crowd. The multiple flags in the air as you ran to find your coach. Mila ran to the mens locker room and found Georgi warming up for his routine.

“You and ( your name ), what the fuck is up with that?” Mila exclaimed. Georgi shrugged. “We’re partners now. We have our first training session next week. Why?”

Mila pointed to Leo, “The two of you are heartbroken, it isn’t the healthiest to be each others rebound.” Georgi rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine.” Georgi excused himself to get back to warming up.

You were on the other end of the building as your turn was coming up. You were doing a routine to “Polovestian Dance” from Prince Igor. You knew it was a bit unconventional but you had been practicing for a little over a year and you were beyond confident in it.

“From ( your country ), ( your name )!” The announcer said as you skated out to the rink. You noticed Georgi, Mila, Leo, and a few others in the front row.

You stood in the middle of the rink as you slowly started to skate. The routine was way out of your element as your last few routines were to pop music. You were about to do your first quad and managed to land safely on your third jump as the crowd clapped in support.

You were skating your emotions away like Georgi had said to do. You were a bit scared that you were getting close to Georgi so quickly because Georgi was someone you weren’t expecting to be so close with. He was funny, smart, witty, and that was something everyone pushed away because of how dramatic he was.

As the song was coming to a finish, you noticed Georgi standing up and looking at you intensely, hoping you didn’t fall as your final quad was coming up. Just as you went for your quad again, you stuck your landing a lot more confidently as the song finished. You screamed out in happiness as you skated back to the middle of the rink.

Your coach immediately went to open the door as you tacked her for a hug. She put the sweater that they were handing out all of the competitors and led you to the bench to find out your result.

“98.9”

You broke out in a smile as you waved to the camera along with your coach. You went to back to give interviews as you noticed Leo approaching you. You wanted to roll your eyes but refrained from doing so as the cameras were still rolling. Not too far from Leo was Georgi.

“Georgi!” You said as you moved past Leo and went Georgi to hug him. “How did I do? I’m sure I at least made silver!”

The two of you walked away as Georgi went to the warm up center to wait for his turn. Leo wasn’t exactly happy that you were suddenly so close with Georgi. He knew he should have told you about Camila but you were his best friend, damn it.

Georgi was performing the Mens Short Single which didn’t have too many great competitors. You knew Georgi was sure that was going to rank silver or gold so you weren’t too worried about it.

“Listen, after this, we’re heading straight to the concert. I know we look like complete trash but we literally aren’t going to have any time to get redressed and make it in time.” You explained as you went to the tunnel where the skaters were being released onto the ice from. “I’ll be watching from the stands, Popovich.”

Georgi smiled as he went out on the ice with a smile on his face. You trudged to the front row and took Georgi’s place next to Mila. You didn’t know the inspiration behind his routine today but he was skating to “Somebody to Love” by Queen so you were sure it still had some element to his relationship with Anya,

You were mesmerized by his routine and didn’t notice him skate by you as he gave you a wink. You gave him a small wave as he went back to the center of the rink. He was going for his first jump and landed smoothly. You stood up and clapped as his routine was coming to a finish.

“Wow, one day and the two of you are in love.” Mila joked as Georgi went to the bench with Yakov to find his score out.

After the competition, the two of you had your heads in the clouds. You had gotten silver like you expected as Georgi received gold. You were wearing leggings and the competition sweater as Georgi was practically wearing the same thing except he was wearing sweatpants.

The two of you went to the concert and Georgi couldn’t help but admit, this was the most fun he had in a while. He still had small lingering feelings for Anya but being with you, his mind was pushing those thoughts away. Georgi just hoped that you were slowly losing feelings for Leo as well.

Once the concert ended, you noticed that a few photographers had seen that you and Georgi were together and you were sure that the two of you were going to make national headlines in the morning.

“Georgi, I’m hungry.” You whined as you held onto his arm. The man was marginally taller than you so your weight, regardless of how much you actually weighed, didn’t impact him in the slightest. “I’m willing to eat anything.”

Georgi showed you his phone, “Mila and Yurio are at a restaurant not too far from here, want to go?” You nodded as you noticed Georgi slowly starting to hold you hand. It was a soft hold but you felt the smile appearing on your face.

“And the winners have arrived!” You heard Mila screamed as she ushered you where everyone was sitting. “How was the concert?”

“It was amazing! The next time Beyonce is around, we all need to go see her.” You gushed to her. “Georgi and I were thinking about the topic of our routine and we might be doing a mashup of her songs.”

Mila was surprised. “Wow, you guys already chose a singer? Do you guys have a theme yet?”

Both you and Georgi smiled at each other, “Electric love.”

Georgi had offered to travel to your home country to train. Your coach was still in the midst of arranging the music so the two of you had a few days for Georgi to travel around and sight see your country.

“So what is a girl your age doing liking someone like Leo?” Georgi asked as the two of you were walking around a park. “He’s still 19 and you’re 22, aren’t you?”

You sighed, “Yeah but we’ve been friends since we were kids. I started to really like him a few months back but the age gap really didn’t bother us. It sounds kind of predatory but he was 18 when he showed interest in me. Why do you ask?”

“Well, he’s still a kid. Someone in their twenties shouldn’t be competing for the attention of a teenager.” Georgi admitted. “I’m not trying to be rude to Leo but it’s the truth.”

You knew he had a point.

“I know but who am I going to go after?” You asked as you threw your head back. “I don’t have many guy friends and the ones I do have are either gay or in relationships.”

Georgi smirked, “You got me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his confidence. “You’re right.”

From that moment on, the two of you were almost always together. He never formally asked you out but each time the two of you went out on dates, it was almost always circling around the news.

Everyone knew about it but the ones who expressed their happiness was Mila and Emil. They both thought that the two of you relying on each other would be a bit toxic but when they seen that it was the complete opposite of that, they were more than happy to support the relationship.

Leo was furious whenever he seen you posting pictures with Georgi. He knew that the two of you were partners now but he wasn’t expecting the two of you to end up dating each other. Him and Camila broke up a bit after you and Georgi got together. She realized that Leo still held feelings for you and whenever he seen a photo of you and Georgi together, he was livid beyond belief. Leo never expected someone as dramatic as Georgi to be with you but now there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

The two of you had entered a non-competitive competition to practice your routine. If the two of you aced the routine at a lousy free competition, you were sure that the two of you would qualify for an actual competition.

The songs you had chosen for the routine were “Hold up”, “Countdown”, “Check on It”, and “Crazy in Love”. Check on It was a staple to your relationship with Georgi and he more than wanted the song to be included in the routine.

The morning of the competition had came and while you were expecting it to be just you and Georgi at the arena, you noticed Mila, Emil, both of the Crispino twins, Viktor, and Yuri in the stands.

“Hey guys!” You said excitedly as you went to hug everyone. “I wasn’t expecting to any of you here!”

Mila smiled, “We all wanted to come and support the both of you. We seen how hard the two of you have been working so we figured we could come and see the routine.” Just as Mila finished talking, Georgi came up to you.

“Wow Georgi, you really got lucky.” Emil joked as he nudged at you. “The two of you look great. So what songs did the two of you choose to do? We know you chose Beyonce but which songs?”

You looked at Georgi before laughing, “That’s a surprise! You’ll see when we get up there but for now, we have to head out. We’re up soon but after that, we can all head up to my place and have dinner. We have something to announce!”

They all looked up at the two of you in confusion. You gave them an evil smile before you grabbed Georgi’s hand and walked away. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you had seen Leo but you didn’t exactly see if it was him.

Both you and Georgi were wearing similar outfits. You were wearing a costume that was a bit out of your element. It showed a bit more skin compared to your previous outfits but Georgi didn’t mind it one bit. He enjoyed seeing you practice in the costume.

“From Russia, Georgi Popovich and from ( your country ), ( your name )!” The announcer stated as you heard the cheers from your friends. “A medley too Beyonce.”

You stood in the middle of the rink as the song started. You were skating around Georgi as swayed to “Hold up”. You had went low to the floor which caused Emil and Viktor to wolf whistle jokingly as “Countdown” was slowly starting.

Georgi grabbed your hand and reeled you back in. He flipped you as “Countdown” began. The crowd cheered as the song got more exciting. You did a quad and landed in Georgi’s arms as he flipped you once more. You knew “Check on It” was coming up and that was the song you were excited for. You skated around Georgi as “Check on It” began and you heard Mila’s scream as she realized the song. You went for a triple toe loop and landed safely on the ground as Georgi went for his quad.

You quickly glanced at the crowd and seen that everyone was mesmerized by the routine. Georgi grabbed your legs and lifted you up from the ankles as you smiled at the crowd before he let you down. You skated around Georgi again as “Crazy in Love” began. The crowd immediately clapped as you started clap as Georgi went to dance.

Just as Georgi finished his solo part, you immediately began to dance. The cheers from the crowd as well as the screams from your friends had you smiling from ear to ear. The music had slowed down as you went for toe jump. As you landed back on the ice, you knew it was time for the finale.

You were going to backflip and hopefully you make the landing. Georgi grabbed your ankles again and you took a deep breath before looking at Georgi. You gave him a look of complete trust as he went to flip you. You managed to make the backflip successful as you wobbled to stick the landing.

The crowd had went crazy as the two of you went back to center ice. The music finished as you hugged Georgi with everything you had. He went for a kiss and you immediately returned it as the two of you waved to the camera before going onto the bench.

As you were walking out of the tunnel to head over to the press zone, you noticed Mila and the rest of your gremlin friends running towards you.

“Holy fuck! You guys, that was AMAZING!” Mila screamed as she hugged the both of you. “I had never seen such chemistry for pair before!”

You gave her bashful smile, “Thanks! We can meet up after we finish our interviews. Mila, you have the keys to my apartment anyway so bring everyone up there and we can order really shit fast food or I can whip something up.”

They all nodded as everyone trudged up towards the exit. You and Georgi went to the press zone and gave off interview after interview. Georgi was able to tell that you were starting to get annoyed by the constant interviewers and since he had been living with you for so long, he figured you probably were hungry and in the need for some wine.

As the two of you managed to escape the mix up zone, you seen Leo walking towards you. You gave Georgi a look as he squeezed your hand.

“Hey.” Was all Leo said. “You guys did great.”

You wondered for a minute, “Thanks. Hard work and dedication for the past year does that.”

The three of you looked at each other as Georgi was fixing his hair.

“So, the two of you are serious?” You nodded as Georgi finally spoke up. You were a bit scared to hear what he had to say. “Yeah, we’re moving in together. She’s moving to Russia starting next month.”

Hearing what Georgi said, your face contorted into a smile. All Leo was able to do was gave you a small smile as a million thoughts were racing through his mind. You were able to tell he was struggling to say something.

“That’s great. I’m happy for the both of you.” Leo stated as he a gave a breath of release. “How are you going to compete if you live in Russia?”

“Oh, the off season is coming up and the next competition is a pairs competition but it isn’t for a while so when the time comes to train, I’m still keeping my house here and living there until I’m finished.” You explained. “Other than that, I’m staying in Russia with Georgi.”

Leo nodded, “Thats cool. Well, I hope to see the both of you around soon.” You nodded as you gave him another small smile before walking away.

Georgi already impatient at the fact that you were taking so long with Leo. You jogged up to him as he held you close and attacked you with small kisses. Leo knew he lost his chance the night you got close with Georgi and if he was being honest, that was his biggest mistake. Losing you over a girl and a relationship that didn’t last long.

Both you and Georgi were a bit nervous to tell the rest of your friends the news. You knew it was early in the relationship for you to be so bold to move halfway across the world for a boy you had been dating for just a year but you knew in your gut that Georgi was it for you and Georgi knew he couldn’t go through another heartbreak like he did with Anya. The two of you found comfort and love in each other and you knew this was all the two of you wanted.

When you reached the door of your apartment, you heard the commotion from inside. Viktor and Emil were yelling about something as Mila was trying to hush them down.

“Hey! How did everything go?” Sara asked as she kicked Emil out of his seat on the couch for you to sit on. “You guys took longer than expected.”

You laughed as you sipped the glass of wine that Mila had given you.

“It went great but we’re really excited about something and I know Mila will especially be happy for what I’m about to say.” You said as they all listened intensely. “As you guys can see, there are boxes every where.”

“Just tell us!” Viktor screeched.

“Georgi and I decided we’re moving in together and since I train a lot in Russia, I’m moving in with him over there.” There was a long silence before Mila tackled you into a hug. “You’re moving to Russia! Oh my god!”

Viktor now realizing managed to join in the hug, “We’re practically going to be neighbors!” You laughed as you thanked Emil, Sara, Michele, and Yuri. “I’m moving next month and Georgi is going to help me get settled in.”

“That’s amazing! This night is calling for a celebration so boys, get off your asses and go buy the most expensive bottle of alcohol any of you can find and we can stay back and cook something!” Mila screamed as you tried to pry her off you.

You gave a look to Georgi knowing that he just wanted to spend time with you but you knew that wasn’t going to happen. You gave him a small smile before ushering him with Emil and Michele to go to the store.

You found love in Georgi and he found it in you. While you thought you were going to find something in Leo, it was like a blessing in disguise. Leo was the coverup and Georgi was the real prize. Now you just hoped that you and Leo would go back to being friends. Maybe not now but slowly start fixing your friendship with him again.

-ALITA

#yuri on ice #yuri on ice imagine #yuri on ice x reader #georgi popovich #georgi popovich imagine #georgi popvich x reader #leo de la iglesia #leo de la iglesia imagine #leo de la iglesia x reader #mila babicheva #emil nekola

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avaruussade · 5 years ago

Text

Fraying at the Edges

otayuri | T-rated | 8.2K words

“Yuri knows that if Otabek decides to do something, no one can stop him; and Yuri wouldn’t even try to stop Otabek if he suddenly told him he’s going to move to Canada to get better at skating. And apparently he had told everyone he’s going to do just that - everyone, except Yuri.“

This is part 3 of my "DJ Otabek" series, but it doesn't necessarily require reading the previous parts.

Read on AO3

It’s not quite summer yet, but the night in Almaty is warm when Yuri and Otabek meet up with the Kazakh skater’s friends outside a club located in the heart of the city. At the door they’re greeted by a familiar face, the bouncer’s serious expression changing into a wide smile when he recognizes Yuri. “Congratulations, my boys. You did well!” Yuri thanks him with a small laugh, not even trying to hide how much the bouncer’s broken Russian and warm words mean to him. The man shakes hands with him and Otabek before letting them in, telling them to have a fun night. The competitive season ended just a few weeks ago, and it’s the first time in months Yuri feels like he can smile and laugh freely. The season wasn’t easy for him: he suffered an ankle injury in the Grand Prix final, which resulted in badly executed programs in Euros. Somehow he managed to make a full recovery before Worlds where he skated to gold, and the medal definitely made up for his poor performances earlier in the season.

However, he wasn’t the only one struggling: Otabek stood on the podium next to Yuri in Worlds, but it was his first medal of the season. Even though Otabek landed his jumps somewhat perfectly and skated to nice scores in every competition, Yuri could tell something was wrong with him. Nothing else in Otabek’s life seemed to be crooked - he smiled when he talked about his family and he joked around with his friends like usual - so Yuri didn’t ask him about it. Everyone has ups and downs every season, and for some the downs last a bit longer. The competition in men’s singles is tough (even now after the retirement of both Viktor and Katsuki), and Otabek had never wore his heart on his sleeve when he skated. The lack in Otabek’s presentation scores had been a real problem this season, and he was as aware of it as everyone else. Otabek puts an arm around Yuri’s waist and pulls him closer when they line up for drinks. The steady music vibrates the floor underneath their feet, and even though the club isn’t fully packed yet Yuri knows that after a couple of hours it will be. The dance floor’s wild lights create a colorful show on the club’s high ceiling, shadows bouncing off the walls and getting mixed with the hot, almost humid air around them. Otabek is supposed to play later that night, but before that they’re going to relax and let loose together without having to worry about scores, rankings or practice the next day. They make their way through the crowd and eventually manage to claim a table on the balcony. They can barely hear each other since the dance floor is right beneath them, but at least they will have a perfect view of the stage when it’s Otabek’s time to get behind the turntables. Yuri’s plane landed only a few hours ago, so he’s happy to just sit down on the wide couch paired with their table and sip on his drink while listening to the conversation between Otabek and his friends. Yuri understands most of it (he studied the language during long flights and in hotel rooms throughout the season, Otabek helping him whenever he could), but he’s too tired from all the travelling to say anything. Otabek is sitting right next to him, an arm around his shoulders, and that’s enough for now. Every now and then Otabek glances at him, as if to make sure he really is still there, and every time he does that Yuri presses a quick, lazy kiss on his lips. Yuri is fully aware they’re in a public place surrounded by dozens of people who could recognize them, but he has decided not to care. They had maintained their relationship through a tough competitive season, and to Yuri’s surprise it was Otabek who had said he wouldn’t mind people knowing about them. Most of their friends and family already knew: Viktor and Yuuri had walked in on them making out in the dressing room of Yuri’s home rink, which meant all of Yuri’s rinkmates (including his coaches) were informed before the two of them could do anything about it. Otabek had told his family soon after that, and later he revealed to Yuri that he had told his closest friends even before the incident with Viktor and Yuuri. But the public still didn’t know, and in a post-banquet talk after Worlds they had came to the conclusion that they would stop hiding it, and if someone asked, they’d be honest. Yuri has a feeling that’s easier to say than do, but right now he doesn’t care: he smiles against Otabek’s lips and lets him take his hand, telling himself he’s blushing because of the alcohol and not because Alina, one of Otabek’s friends, calls them ‘so damn adorable’. It’s Alina who takes the place next to Yuri when Otabek has to get on the stage. Yuri sends him off with a kiss and gets a small smile in return, the sight of it making Yuri’s chest feel a tiny bit tighter. “It’s truly great to see Beka so happy,” Alina says after Otabek has disappeared behind the stage. “You’re good to him.” “He makes me happy,” Yuri confesses, hiding behind his glass. Alina smiles warmly at the words. “Beka has had his own struggles, you know. I’ve known him for a long time, and up until now I’ve felt like nothing but skating and making music could make him smile like that. You must be special,” she says with a teasing wink, and Yuri rolls his eyes at her. However, a part of him understands perfectly: for years Yuri felt like he was trapped in the middle of his negative emotions, getting crushed under everyone’s expectations, and he could only be free when he got on the ice. Nowadays being around people doesn’t make him so anxious, and controlling his anger off the ice is easier too. “I’m nothing special, just the World champion and Olympic gold medalist,” Yuri says with a shrug and Alina bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, I totally understand why Beka likes you so much. I really hope you can maintain your relationship now when he moves back to Canada.” Yuri feels his expression going blank, and at that moment the music in the club changes and Otabek gets on the stage behind the turntables. Yuri barely registers how he greets the crowd, a static buzzing filling his ears instead. Canada? What was Alina talking about? They didn’t have any plans for summer - they haven’t had enough time to talk about summer yet - but Otabek would have told him if he was moving all the way to Canada. Or at least Yuri thinks Otabek would tell him if he was going to move to another country. They had both been busy lately, and the last few months hadn’t been easy for Otabek, which had resulted in them not being able to spend a lot of time together. But Yuri had thought they could now take a couple weeks off and enjoy each other’s presence like they used to. Apparently that wasn’t something Otabek was planning to do. “Oh,” Yuri manages to force out, the piercing cold he feels in his lungs making it almost impossible to speak. He clears his throat and puts on an expression he learned to hide behind years ago: calm and distant with emotionless eyes. “He has talked to you guys about it?” “Yeah,” Alina sighs and takes a sip of her drink. “I mean, I got the impression he properly decided on it just last week or something? But he bought the plane tickets so I guess he has made up his mind. About time, if you ask me, considering he’s leaving in ten days.” Yuri gives her a small smile, and Alina doesn’t know him well enough to notice he’s faking it. “I guess,” Yuri says quietly, the booming music hiding his words. Alina isn’t really concentrating on their conversation, her eyes on Otabek who’s standing on the stage. Otabek’s eyes scan the audience and visit the balcony, looking for familiar faces. Yuri drops his gaze, his heart beating painfully in his hollow chest. Yuri stares blankly at the floor for the rest of Otabek’s set, the exciting high from alcohol transforming into a painful dullness. Yuri forces a smile on his face when Otabek gets back, but he doesn’t say anything. Throughout the years Yuri has learned to hide his true emotions behind a hard, emotionless facade, and he knows it’s better for everyone if he pretends for the rest of the night. He’s itching to talk to Otabek, to ask him what is going on, but at the same time he doesn’t want to have that conversation in the club surrounded by Otabek’s friends. “Do you want another drink?” Otabek’s familiar voice and nonchalant tone shoots right through Yuri like an arrow. He looks up and meets a dark pair of eyes he knows way too well; eyes that always calm him down and make him feel like home. Realizing that hurts. “I think I need some fresh air,” Yuri says, way too quickly for it to sound natural. Otabek doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Yuri is already on his feet and climbing down the staircase, disappearing into the crowd of people. The club has filled up in the past hour, and Yuri keeps bumping into people. His muttered apologies are half-hearted, and no one really pays attention to him when he gets to the club’s small outdoor area reserved for smoking, slamming the door shut behind himself. He leans against a metallic railing, warm from the day’s heat and sunshine, and tries to stop his hands from shaking. Yuri doesn’t smoke, has never even tried, but he almost asks for a cigarette from two guys standing in the corner of the outdoor area. In the end he says nothing, because he can’t remember how to ask something like that in Kazakh. Instead he takes out his phone and manages to type out a short text message. To: JJ So Beka’s moving there? From: JJ Yeah! We’re gonna be rink mates again! It’s been too long since we’ve been training together! You could come here too! :D To: JJ I’ll skip, thanks. From: JJ Why? :( I thought you had warmed up to me after all these years :( To: JJ So when did Beka tell you he’d move there? From: JJ When he started planning on it I think after the GPF Wait He has told you, right? To: JJ Not yet From: JJ What Wait Yuri Shit I thought he had talked to you about it Damn I’m so sorry To: JJ Fuck off, JJ Yuri fights against the urge to throw his phone on the nearest wall. It’s not JJ’s fault he’s hurt and disappointed, but it feels good to put the blame on someone. Yuri’s mind is hazy, the realization that Otabek had been planning on this since December making anger bubble inside him. The thing is that Yuri actually thinks a total change of scenery, new training team and some skilled rinkmates to practice with is the best decision Otabek could make right now. Time difference between them would be a couple hours more, but they could deal with it together - they’ve been through worse. Yuri knows that if Otabek decides to do something, no one can stop him; and Yuri wouldn’t even try to stop Otabek if he suddenly told him he’s going to move to Canada to get better at skating. And apparently he had told everyone he’s going to do just that - everyone, except Yuri. “Yura?” Yuri is too deep in his thoughts to hear Otabek coming outside, and the sudden call of his name painfully pulls him back to reality. He turns to look at Otabek, and the worry in his dark eyes makes Yuri see red. “Were you ever gonna tell me?” The question makes Otabek frown, and Yuri’s sharp tone forces him to take half a step backwards. Yuri sees how he tries to hide the underlying fear in his gaze, and it only makes his anger take over him (because it hurts, it hurts so much, but Yuri isn’t going to admit that). “Wha-?” “About Canada.” A heavy silence falls between them. Yuri manages to hide his emotions behind an expressionless face, his cold eyes watching Otabek trying to come up with something to say. Yuri is impressed at how collected Otabek looks, his gaze locked with Yuri’s cold eyes. “Who told you?” “That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me?” A hint of betrayal slips into Yuri’s words, and it hurts him to see how Otabek flinches at it. “I can explain.” “Then fucking explain.” Otabek lets out a wavering sigh, his eyes dropping to the ground. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he closes it. He runs a hand through his hair, fingertips shaking, helplessly trying to find the right words. Yuri can see he’s struggling, and it makes him feel sick. “I was afraid,” Otabek finally says after a silence that feels like an eternity. “Of what? Me?” Yuri’s tone sounds like he’s insulted, but actually he’s scared Otabek will confirm his accusations. He’s terrified that the person who helped him to lower his guard and find the softness hiding in his core would be afraid of him. “Of what would happen to us,” Otabek’s voice is barely a whisper, and when Yuri’s mind finally processes the words, his body can’t tame the flame of anger. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Otabek still can’t look directly at Yuri. His breathing gets faster, panic and fear making their way into his eyes. Yuri feels like punching something and he looks away, trying to keep his voice from cracking when he repeats his question. “We wouldn’t see each other as often. Even if I wanted to be with you, I- the distance between Toronto and Saint Petersburg is long. Longer than what we have now.” “Did you really think I wouldn’t support you?” Otabek finally looks at Yuri, and the ice and thunder in Yuri’s emerald eyes cut deeper than his words. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.” “Saying ‘hey, I think I’m gonna move to Canada’ isn’t that fucking hard. I mean, you told your friends and JJ, how am I any different?” The expression on Otabek’s face looks wounded, and Yuri needs to cross his arms over his chest so he doesn’t accidentally reach over and wipe the pain away with his fingertips. Seeing Otabek like that hurts, it hurts more than the fact that he had told everyone except Yuri about his plans; it hurts because Yuri knows it’s his fault Otabek looks like he’s crumbling. “You are different. If you left, it… it would kill me.” “You are the one leaving, not me,” Yuri says even though he knows that’s not what Otabek means. It’s not about being physically close, because that’s something they’re used to: between practicing in their own home rinks and travelling around the globe for different competitions they’re lucky if they get to share twelve hours together every now and then. They’ve accepted it, because they know there will always be more competitions, more post-banquet nights in fancy hotel rooms, more intensive training camps held by Yakov. “You know what I mean.” Yuri knows better than anyone what Otabek means, because he exists to his parents only after winning a competition; because years ago in Japan he skated a flawless program, yet Viktor still didn’t choose him; because before meeting Otabek he had always been everyone’s second choice, and that had made it impossible for him to trust anyone. Yuri knows exactly what Otabek means, and that only makes him more furious. “Is that really how much you trust me?” Yuri’s voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and he hates himself for it. He clears his throat but doesn’t look away, trying to find the answer to his question from Otabek’s sad eyes. He refuses to believe Otabek would think he’d choose someone else over him just because the distance between them got longer. He can’t believe it because he has told Otabek so, so many times how much he means to him. The way Otabek looks away and lets out a small, shuddering breath forces Yuri to believe it. “Yuri, I-” “You know what, I don’t wanna hear it,” Yuri spits out, swallowing tears. His chest feels uncomfortably tight and his lungs are heavy, and he’s barely holding himself together. It feels like the sharp pieces of his heart were cutting him open, tearing his carefully crafted facade apart. “I don’t even want to be here.” “We should lea-” “I don’t want to see your face anymore. I- I can’t take it.” It being the tears gathered in the corners of Otabek’s eyes, and how looking at him makes Yuri still feel like he’s coming home; it being all the unopened text messages JJ has sent him in the last five minutes, full of honest apologies; it being his mind scolding him for being stupid and trusting someone, because when faced with a choice, no one would ever pick Yuri. Yuri kind of wants to kick the walls and yell at Otabek, maybe punch him hard once or twice - it’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it. In the back of his mind Yuri knows they need to talk this through, because if he leaves now his thoughts will eat him alive, Otabek will never get a chance to explain himself and things won’t get back to normal. So Yuri turns around, pretends he doesn’t hear Otabek calling his name when he leaves the club, and doesn’t even bother going back for his things before he gets on the next plane heading to Saint Petersburg.

----

Summer is rough. Getting used to the time difference between Almaty and Toronto takes a toll on Otabek, lack of sleep making the first weeks of practice in a new rink tougher than he had anticipated. However, it’s not the first time he has moved to the other side of the world, and luckily he’s still familiar with Toronto: falling back into the routine he followed years ago comes back to him quickly without him really noticing. He’s not going to admit it, but JJ’s presence makes settling in easier. It’s refreshing to share the rink with someone on the same skill level, and JJ’s brutal honesty helps him get better at things he’s lacking in his skating. The atmosphere in their practices is always warm, and even though Mr and Mrs Leroy are demanding with their coaching, they immediately accepted Otabek into their skating family. Otabek practices hard, because he feels the need to show major improvement in the upcoming season. He knows that on top of perfecting the technical elements in his programs, he needs to focus on how to express himself better on the ice. So Otabek practices hard, occupying his mind with skating: his programs, technique, proper execution, the pieces of music he’s skating to. Because whenever his concentration falters, everything reminds him of Yuri. When someone with blonde hair jogs past him during his daily morning run, the tempo of his heart picks up until his chest hurts and he has to stop because he can’t breathe; sometimes he forgets his music on shuffle, and when a song he used to listen to with Yuri comes up he paralyzes, the masochist side of him welcoming the memories that flood in; every now and then even getting on the ice is painful because the rink is supposed to feel like home, and whenever Otabek thinks about home, his thoughts still go straight to Yuri. He’s happy he still has music and DJ-ing, and whenever his thoughts drive him insane or things don’t go as planned in the rink, he puts on his headphones and works on new pieces. A friend of his who he met online years ago plays in different clubs around Toronto, and sometimes Otabek joins him. He’s not playing as often as he used to, but when he does, it clears his mind and helps him focus on the goals he has set for himself. Often when he goes out to play with his friend, someone in the club tries to talk to him or flirt with him, but he dodges the attempts. JJ always tells him to loosen up and bring someone home with him for a night or two, and every time JJ says that, Otabek gives him a bored stare as a reply. Letting someone close absolutely terrifies him - even if it was just for one night and only in the physical sense of the word. Otabek doesn’t admit it, but the only person he has ever been interested in is Yuri. JJ tried to ask him about Yuri when he first came to Canada, but Otabek ignored him coldly - not because he doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. JJ hasn’t brought the topic up since. They barely even talk about other skaters, focusing on perfecting their own programs for the upcoming season, until the assignments for Grand Prix come in. The first event for both of them will be Skate Canada, and after that JJ will skate in China and Otabek will travel to Russia. “Wanna watch Skate America together?” JJ asks, not bothering to really read through who will skate in the same events as him. It’s just how JJ is: it doesn’t matter who he’s against, because he’s confident he won’t lose to them. “Sure,” Otabek mumbles. He watches JJ take off his blade guards and get on the ice, rolling his shoulders. They’re about to start their early morning practice, and Nathalie Leroy is sitting at the rinkside, a steaming hot cup of coffee next to her on the bench. “You think you’ll be okay?” JJ says, his tone almost soft, and Otabek frowns. He takes another look on the assignments, sighs and gives an annoyed look to his rinkmate. “I’ll be fine.” It’s not like he hasn’t seen Yuri’s face since they parted ways, because for some reason Yuri hasn’t blocked him on any social media platforms. Otabek doesn’t leave likes or comments under Yuri’s posts anymore, but he can’t make himself unfollow Yuri either. Overall Yuri updates his social media less frequently than he used to, and nowadays his Instagram pictures are strictly about skating and nothing else: video clips of him practicing his jumps (sometimes succeeding, sometimes falling and cursing loudly), gym selfies, shots promoting his official sponsors. Yuri even made it to gossip sites’ headlines when he caught a scandal a couple of months back (actually it’s not really a scandal, or even a big deal, but Yuri’s more than passionate fans like to go overboard). During the last days of June Yuri uploaded a picture with Viktor and Yuuri on Instagram, the caption stating he’s getting some extra training in Japan. Later that week someone spotted him in a local gay bar, and people went crazy. Otabek read every single stupid article written about the topic, but Yuri himself never commented on the subject. He didn’t update his social media for a week, and when he eventually did post something, his Angels were so delighted to hear from him again they didn’t ask questions. Everything summed up just made Otabek feel like Yuri didn’t just cut him off his life, but also decided to hide his real self from everyone. So seeing Yuri’s name on JJ’s laptop screen during the live stream of Skate America doesn’t make Otabek feel anything special. He’s doing just fine until the second warm-up group of men gets on the ice and the skaters are introduced to the audience. When it’s his turn, Yuri waves to his fans, but his expression stays serious. He has his hair tied up, and the gaze of his sharp eyes seems more piercing than ever before. “He looks a bit sick,” JJ says after a moment of silence, and Otabek agrees. Yuri looks pale compared to the other competitors, and although he has always been skinny, he looks almost fragile in his simple, full-black costume. “He’s probably just nervous,” Otabek says, trying to sound like he doesn’t care. JJ looks at him, and for once he says nothing. After a short moment he simply shrugs and turns his attention back to the laptop screen. Otabek lets out a silent, relieved sigh JJ doesn’t hear. Yuri skates third from the second group, and even though his music choice - an extract from Moonlight Sonata’s 3rd movement - is accompanied with powerful, fast-paced skating, he finishes his program with just a few small mistakes. Even JJ and Otabek are surprised at how well Yuri skates, maintaining his natural fragility without falling behind the intense music. Yuri looks exhausted when he gets off the ice, and he doesn’t smile even when he gets a high score. The audience is loud, but Otabek thinks he hears Yuri say “I can do better than that” before the stream leaves the Kiss and Cry and focuses on the next skater getting ready for his performance in the rink. When the men’s short program ends, Otabek pretends to be alright. He goes to practice with JJ and manages to land a difficult combination he’s been working on for a while. JJ invites him over for a game night, but Otabek declines the offer, telling JJ he’s been sleeping quite badly lately and wants to catch up on sleep. He’s not really lying, because he hasn’t slept well in months. Every night when Otabek goes to bed and closes his eyes, his thoughts of Yuri get louder than during the day. Otabek can’t push Yuri out of his head without distractions like skating and music, so he ends up hitting the nearby 24/7 gym at midnight or working on his laptop until he passes out an hour before his alarm goes off. Deep down Otabek knows he needs help, but a part of him is terrified of letting go. He still loves Yuri - has loved him unconditionally for years - and he’s painfully aware of how much he hurt him. Otabek made poor decisions and let his fears control his actions, and he thinks that’s why he deserves to suffer now. Yuri wins Skate America after skating a nearly-perfect free program on Schindler’s List, and Otabek is reminded of the moment he told Yuri he’d fit the song perfectly. They were laying in Yuri’s bed in Saint Petersburg, and Yuri laughed at the suggestion and said his skating isn’t yet emotional enough for the song. Yuri’s eyes look empty when he forces on a smile during the medal ceremony, and that’s when Otabek decides to talk to him when they’ll inevitably meet in Rostelecom Cup.

----

Otabek never gets a chance to act on his grand plan of pulling Yuri aside and saying something to him during Rostelecom Cup. In Skate Canada Otabek skated well enough to get on the podium, yet he feels the need to show everyone that changing coaching teams really helped him improve. Skating against the best Russian skaters on their home ice would be a terrifying experience to anyone, and on top of all that Otabek’s heart shatters once more when he sees Yuri in the first official practice. When Yuri gets on the ice, his black practice wear makes him look paler than he actually is. There are dark circles under his eyes but he nails his elements without showing any signs of exhaustion. Lilia seems to be lecturing him when he returns to the rinkside after a run-through of his short program, and Yuri has a look on his face that tells Otabek he’s doing everything but listening to her. Otabek catches himself thinking how he’s happy that Yuri hasn’t changed despite everything, when in reality he has changed. The changes in him are small and delicate, like how he avoids eye-contact with his coaches, or looks incredibly angry with himself when his quad turns into a triple near the end of the practice. There are shadows on his face, and because Otabek knows Yuri lives and breathes skating - it’s something that has saved him from self-destruction so many times - it hurts to watch how Yuri’s tense shoulders relax when he steps out of the rink and pulls on a black hoodie. In the end Yuri finishes second in Rostelecom, right behind a younger rinkmate of his. Otabek manages to climb to the fourth place, and although he’s not completely satisfied with his own performance, he qualifies for the final and that makes him determined. When Otabek returns to Canada he tries not to think about how he didn’t see Yuri smile once during the competition.

----

JJ makes it to the Grand Prix final as well, and Otabek is thoroughly relieved he won’t have to face Yuri alone (or, face the fact he simply doesn’t seem to exist to Yuri anymore). The competition is tough - something both of them already knew from the qualification rounds - and when JJ finishes third in the short program behind Yuri and his young rinkmate, he’s so pissed off Otabek ends up spending the night in his hotel room watching extremely boring romantic comedies with him. JJ doesn’t like romantic comedies, but whenever he has to sort through his thoughts, he puts on romantic comedies. Otabek thinks it’s a weird habit, but he’s not courageous enough to question a pissed off JJ. Also, it seems the terrible movies somehow channel his energy and make him skate better the next day (or make his opponents skate worse, depending on how you want to look at it). So Otabek isn’t surprised when Yuri’s young rinkmate has a disastrous free skate. He skates first, and maybe the pressure of the Grand Prix final gets to him on the worst possible moment. After all, he’s only sixteen, it’s his senior debut season, and he’s skating against Olympic medalists and World champions. Otabek feels bad for the boy, even when JJ reminds him that now they both have a chance to get on the podium. Otabek skates second from the group, and it takes his full concentration to shake off the negative energy the young Russian left in the rink. However, when his music starts, all he can hear are the notes, and his body follows the melody easily. The audience and the presence of the judges disappear, and for four minutes it’s just Otabek, the ice and the piece of music he has heard hundreds of times. He gets a season’s best and easily takes the bronze. JJ does his everything on the ice, but when Yuri finishes his program, it’s clear JJ has no chances for the gold. Otabek tries to cheer him up by telling him that it’s only the beginning of the season, and they have at least two major competitions ahead of them. By the time the medal ceremony starts JJ is back to his confident, joyful self. Otabek is already standing on the podium when he realizes who’s going to share it with him. It’s part of the etiquette that the medalists greet each other in good nature and pose together for press photos. Otabek is familiar with the procedure, but he didn’t think he’d stand a chance to even get on the podium, so he didn’t worry about it. He feels like someone had pushed him in icy water without a warning: his pulse picks up, his vision gets blurry, and for a second it’s hard to breathe. Then JJ is there, standing in front of him, and pulling him into a protocol-required hug. “Everything alright?” he asks, voice low and full of worry. Otabek can’t get anything out of his mouth, so he just nods and forces a small smile on his face. It’s obvious from the look JJ gives him that Otabek isn’t fooling him, but there’s nothing either of them can do about it. When they announce his name and Yuri gets on the ice, he looks captivating. He has let his hair down, and it looks like a halo around him under the bright spotlights. He flashes a short smile to the audience, and the sight of it tugs at Otabek’s heart, a painful hollowness spreading from his chest and taking over him when Yuri gets closer to the podium. Otabek can’t help holding his breath when Yuri hugs him. A familiar smell of hairspray, citrus-scented shampoo and Yuri wraps around him, and Otabek has to blink a couple of times to keep himself from crying. He wants to say something, but his body and mind won’t cooperate quickly enough. Yuri refuses to meet his eyes when they part, and Otabek notices how his hands shake when he goes over to JJ. They stand in thousands of photographs, uneasy smiles on their lips and tension in their shoulders; they’re close enough to touch, but they won’t. In reality Yuri is right there, but to Otabek he’s further away than he’s ever been. When Otabek gets back to his hotel room, he cries for the first time in months.

----

Two weeks before European Championships Yuri updates his Instagram with a video of him cleanly landing a triple axel - quad toe - triple toe combination. Otabek is in the middle of practice when the video goes up, yet he still doesn’t miss it. “Holy fuck!” JJ screeches from the other side of the rink, totally messing up Otabek’s rhythm. His quad turns into a double, and he barely saves the landing. He’s lucky JJ is busy staring at his phone and doesn’t see him struggling. JJ signals him closer, and when Otabek gets to the other end of the rink, JJ shoves his phone into Otabek’s hand without saying anything. The video is short, shot in the main rink of Sports Champions ice hall. The expression on Yuri’s face is concentrated as he leaps into the axel, then straight into the quad and triple toeloops, his aerial rotations as quick as always. On the same second he finishes the combination the video becomes shaky as Mila curses loudly in Russian from behind the camera, not able to contain her excitement. Otabek re-watches the video at least five times, and when Yuri lands the jump for the sixth time on JJ’s phone screen, JJ yanks the device away. “We’re doomed,” he says, closing the app. “We’re fucked if he lands that in Euros and then in Worlds. There’s like, no point in even trying to beat him anymore.” “He’s been working on that combination for a long time now,” Otabek reveals. JJ blinks, his brows shooting up in question. “He has?” “Over a year, I think. He used to have problems with getting all the rotations in,” Otabek says, his voice getting gradually quieter towards the end of his sentence. The memory of Yuri practicing the jump over and over again for hours until Otabek interfered and physically dragged him out of the rink burns in Otabek’s mind. The fact that it happened more than once hurts, mostly because Otabek suspects no one has really looked after Yuri in the past months (probably not even Yuri himself). Yuri lands the combination in Euros, and Otabek wins Four Continents (and when he and JJ stand on the podium next to each other, instead of being disappointed in himself for falling on his very last jump, JJ is beaming with pride).

----

When Otabek saw Yuri Plisetsky skate for the first time, he immediately understood what people meant when they told him figure skating isn’t just a sport, but also an art form. Even after years of watching Yuri on the ice, his skating still draws Otabek in and mesmerizes him: how he can look fragile during a choreographic sequence and then show immense strength right after, landing a combination of jumps flawlessly. Yuri never forgets to pay attention to the details in his programs, movement travelling through his body all the way to his fingertips. He makes every jump, every spin and every element requiring flexibility look effortless, and the way he moves on the ice is hypnotizing. Yet his eyes are always burning with determination: full of need to do better, to exceed everyone’s expectations and show his worth. For the first time in what feels like centuries Otabek meets those eyes during the men’s free program in World Championships. He’s supposed to get on the ice after Yuri, tune out the cheers and applause, and skate just like he did in Four Continents (and Otabek will do that, he knows he can do that - he’s proven himself many times this season, and he’s finally fully confident in himself, even if he has to skate right after the reigning World champion. The fight for the podium positions is ruthless, the top six almost tied in points after the short program, and although it makes the competition more exciting, Otabek would rather skate without all the added pressure.) Yuri spares a small smile to the audience that has gone wild, picking up a tiny tiger plushie on his way out of the rink. He straightens his back and instead of looking for his coach’s comforting, proud gaze, Yuri finds Otabek’s eyes. Otabek braces himself for ice-cold daggers and anger that spreads around his neck and chokes him, but what he sees is just emptiness swimming in specks of emerald. The moment lasts less than a second, Yuri looking away quickly. The usual toughness has found its way back in his eyes when he leaves the Kiss and Cry but stays behind, hiding in the shadows of the stands and watching Otabek skate a great program. Otabek is too focused on his own performance to notice him, and when he leaves the ice, Yuri has already disappeared. Otabek is exhausted when he finally gets off the ice, the weight of the season settling on his shoulders while he waits for his points. He hasn’t yet fully comprehended that it’s the World Championships and that he just finished his last official skate of the season, because when he thinks back on the months of training and competitions, he only seems to remember the sleepless nights, the hollowness of his chest, and how sorrow seeps into Yuri’s features every time he thinks no one is looking. It hurts to watch how Yuri struggles in front of everyone through the medal ceremony and gala practice, yet no one seems to notice: he’s present but still isn’t, somehow. The press ask for pictures and he gives them a smile that won’t reach his eyes, and he learns the ridiculously easy group number choreography without a single complaint (in fact, when Otabek really thinks about it, he’s not sure when was the last time he actually heard Yuri say anything). Otabek knows Yuri speaks through skating, conveys his feelings through it even when he hides behind a mask or a role, because that’s what he learned to do as a child. Yuri skates his exhibition number on Ciara’s cover of Paint It, Black, which is a very Yuri-like piece. It follows the same melancholic theme as his competition programs with graceful spins and beautifully flowing step sequences, but it’s full of raw emotions the others lack: anger, boldness, pain. Otabek has seen Yuri skate the program many times in the past season, and it never ceases to shake him to the core. Maybe because something in the program hits a bit too close to home (aggression, ice-cold eyes and Yuri’s serious expression that doesn’t change even after the music has stopped). Otabek won’t admit it, just like he won’t say aloud how much he still enjoys watching Yuri skate despite it filling his chest with longing that hurts more than anything else he has ever experienced. Otabek wants to think he has improved tremendously in a year, that he’s become stronger mentally and physically. He tries to convince himself that all the new personal bests, all the medals and podium positions mean he’s actually better off without Yuri. The thought ties a knot in his stomach and narrows his windpipe just enough to make him struggle, yet when they line up in front of a cheering audience at the end of the gala and out of the blue Yuri comes to stand next to him, Otabek feels like drowning instead of breathing freely. He freezes, terrified that his inner panic can be seen all over his face. “Can we talk after this?” The hall is loud, the audience screaming around them, and for a brief moment Otabek is sure he imagined Yuri talking to him. He glances at his side, and although Yuri isn’t looking at him, the question is written in his tense shoulders and empty eyes fixed on the faceless crowd. Otabek lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Yeah.”

The sun is already setting when Otabek gets out of the ice hall’s back door, his leather jacket hardly keeping him warm against the chilly spring breeze. Yuri is already waiting for him, leaning against a safety railing surrounding the arena. He has pulled a black hoodie over his gala outfit, and the decorative glitter on the outer corners of his eyes glimmer in the orange light. It’s suddenly very, very silent around them. Otabek grew up in a home that was never quiet, and he learned to hate silences like this. He has at least a million things he wants to say, but nothing comes out; he can’t decide where he should start. “I’m sorry I just left back then.” “I don’t think you should be the one apologizing here.” Yuri lets out a short sigh that has a hint of amusement in it. “I totally agree. But let’s be real, me fleeing out of the fucking country was just a little bit overdramatic. I should’ve let you explain yourself.” “I think I would’ve reacted the exact same way,” Otabek says with a shrug. He sees from the corner of his eye how Yuri turns to look at him, but he’s too afraid to meet the questioning gaze. “I mean, what I did was just… a total dick move. Honestly, you had all the reasons to be angry.” “I was angry. I am angry.” “I don’t blame you for that,” Otabek says, his voice quieter than he wants. He gathers the remains of his courage and meets Yuri’s eyes, welcoming the familiarity of them. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about my plans of moving to Canada, and I’m sorry you had to find out about it like you did. There’s really no excuses for what I did, and I’m sorry I hurt you.” For some reason Otabek feels more exhausted than he did after his free skate last night. His heart is hammering painfully against his chest, and the slight, almost sad frown on Yuri’s face makes him feel worse. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Yuri’s voice is now quiet too, but there are no sharp edges in his words. “I was afraid you’d leave me,” Otabek says. It’s what he told Yuri months ago when he asked the same question for the first time, and it’s the truth. “But I did leave you.” “Yeah, you did.” It’s Yuri who looks away first, biting the inside of his lip. He doesn’t say anything for a long time and Otabek doesn’t want to pressure him, not even when he draws in a shuddering breath and wipes a lone tear on the sleeve of his hoodie, visibly annoyed with himself. “You know, I said I was angry, but most of the time I wasn’t sure was I angry at you or at myself for thinking I actually meant something to someone. I was really hurt because I felt like I wasn’t enough, just like I wasn’t enough for Viktor and my parents. And I kinda pushed everyone away and put my walls up, until…” Otabek watches determination setting in Yuri’s eyes as he fights against tears, his hands curled into fists. He looks more pissed off than anything else, muttering a frustrated curse under his breath, and Otabek wants to pull him against his chest and tell him it’s okay to cry. But he doesn’t do that because he knows Yuri hates showing weakness in front of anyone, and especially in front of him. “Until, after GPF, grandpa was diagnosed with cancer. It’s not super aggressive or anything, but he’s not that young anymore.” “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Otabek says, worry in his tone. He takes a step closer, his fingertips brushing against the back of Yuri’s hand before he stops himself. He knows Yuri notices the brief touch when a sad, almost tired smile visits his lips. He keeps his eyes forward, careful not to look at Otabek, and when he pulls up the hood of his shirt and slips his hands into its pockets to shield himself from the wind (from the cold, from Otabek’s sharp eyes, from the world), he looks a lot younger than he is. “He’s doing better for now, but he’s not getting any younger for sure. When he got the diagnosis, I was ready to skip Euros and move to Moscow to be with him, but he told me he’d be happier to see me skate, because that makes me happy. So I stayed in Saint Petersburg and did nothing but skate and think about you.” Suddenly it feels like they’re 15 and 18 again, standing on a terrace in Park Guell, still learning how to trust someone. They’re as broken, as lost and misunderstood like they were when they met, fighting through each day. Otabek wants to think some things have changed since then - that now they at least have each other - but the truth is they’ve been both fraying at the edges because of each other. Back then Yuri learned to trust a person who saw past his carefully crafted facades and considered them equal, and Otabek learned to trust a person who wanted to learn more about him and was undeterred by his stoic appearance. The bond they built between them was something unique, standing on a foundation of unconditional, mutual love, and losing that made it hard for both of them to hold themselves together. “Why me?” Otabek asks, hiding his surprise under an amused tone. “What grandpa said made me realize how important it is to have happiness in your life. And I just kept thinking how fucking happy I was because of you, how my life got so much more enjoyable after I met you. And then I threw all that away over something so trivial, letting my anger drive me like I was a damn teenager.” Yuri shakes his head in disbelief, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’m an idiot.” “We both are,” Otabek states, although he wants to add he doesn’t think it’s stupid of Yuri to fall back into behavior he used so he’d survive his teenage years filled with high expectations and belittlement. It’s definitely not stupid of Yuri to act like a child every now and then, because he never got a proper childhood. “Touché.” “Yuri, I…,” Otabek starts, trying to hide the waver in his voice. Yuri’s name feels foreign on his tongue, like he was saying it for the very first time, and even though Yuri notices this, he lets Otabek gather himself without saying anything. Their eyes meet, and instead of freezing cold emptiness, Otabek sees warmth in the midst of green and blue. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I was an asshole, but I hope you can accept my apology some day. And if… if it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over.” “What are you planning to do? Save me heroically from my crazy fans or come to Yakov’s summer camp and stalk me?” Otabek hears rather than sees the laughter in Yuri’s voice, it making a smirk climb on his lips. The amusement in Yuri’s features makes Otabek’s chest tighten, and it’s a pleasant feeling. It feels comforting and familiar, like coming home after a long day. “Maybe I’ll invite you to skate with me in my home rink this summer. As a friend, not as a bitter silver medalist who swears to take your title next year,” Otabek says with a joking tone, watching how challenge sparks in Yuri’s eyes. He’s only half-serious, but he can’t deny how excited he gets from the look Yuri gives to him: excited for summer, excited for the next season, excited for them. He offers his hand to Yuri who ignores it, hugging Otabek instead. It’s sudden, and Otabek’s body reacts before his mind does: he wraps his arms tightly around Yuri, remembering all the quick, icy and awkward hugs they’ve shared during medal ceremonies in the past months. He welcomes the scent of citrus shampoo and pulls Yuri closer when he hides his tears into Otabek’s leather jacket. “You can take it. If I can just be with you, I’ll be happy.”

------

The pieces of music mentioned in this story: Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, 3rd Movement Theme from Schindler's List and Yulia Lipnitskaya's beautiful program to it that 100% inspired me Paint It, Black by Ciara

#otayuri #fanfiction

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victuurikatsu · 6 years ago

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Traditions were something Victor never followed through with before. He once told Yuuri that one never celebrated birthdays too early in Russia, and there wasn’t a grand gesture for Christmas either. So while he wasn’t well-versed in following tradition, he was very in sync with the element of surprise. And how could he not be when the one who was tethered to his heart constantly gave him reasons to keep up with surprises?

Yuuri was the one who made it a new tradition to have a new piney Christmas tree up in their place. He was the one who urged Victor to decorate and use his wildest imagination in order to encompass what he felt Christmas was, while also preparing two meals: a Christmas dinner and a birthday dinner, always ending the night with a cake.

When Victor thinks about Christmas, he thinks of how he’s snuggled up by the fireplace with Yuuri in his arms and Makkachin splayed over both of their laps. He thinks of the smell of fresh pine and hot cocoa and rum swirling around while the warmth of Yuuri’s lips pressing against the inside of his wrists brings him back to earth. It’s truly blissful.

Read more under the cut, or over at AO3

As for the birthday portion of the day? He runs like hell, because Yuuri decides it’s a great time to poke him in his hair whorl in the amount of times that equals his age. It feels like a ridiculously overdrawn game of hide and seek, but their home is filled with groans and a chorus of giggling. Irregardless of how much it made Victor pout, over the past few years, it stayed on as their latest tradition.

Yuuri kept good on his promise to Victor, working hard to secure a five-time World Champion status under his belt. Currently he’s at his 4th consecutive win and Victor has never been prouder to take silver, with Yurio begrudgingly at bronze. The banquets were always traditionally proper as sponsors and the art of etiquette were of utmost importance, however, that didn’t stop one Japanese skater being coaxed by a certain Swiss skater to indulge in some champagne for their yearly dance battles, their favorite way to unwind.

Every year Yurio tells them they’re idiots for disrupting the banquet that way but still finds himself in an enraged state of competitive mindset. He’s literally among the top 5 ice skating champions in the entire world, how were they all collectively STILL beating him when it came to dance battles? Victor of course looks on with absolute glee, cheering on Yuuri the deeper he lets loose. The collective amount of photos and videos he has of a drunk Yuuri as always surprising the hell out of everyone with the moves he’s capable of, is completely priceless but now familiar.

Victor’s favorite part of the battle is when Yuuri beckons him to put his phone away as they paso doble the night away, always ending with Victor being dipped down, his hand firmly on Yuuri’s back, and Yuuri’s hand tenderly caressing Victor’s face. To end the night off, there’s a slow dance, and naturally Victor and Yuuri choose each other, but at this point Yuuri is draping his arms around Victor’s shoulders while Victor steadies him as they sway to the music.

“Ne’ Victoru?” Yuuri drunkenly giggles softly into his ear.

“Hmm?” Victor pipes in curiously.

“If I can manage to keep upright for the rest of this dance, won’t you reconsider the five-time champion rule? I’ve won enough gold at this point to prove myself worthy of you right?” Yuuri continues.

Victor’s gaze falls upon glistening honey brown eyes, that same hopeful gaze from before, around a time that felt like it was just yesterday. He rests his forehead on Yuuri’s, a mischievous smirk laced on his lips.

“What are you suggesting, Yuuri?” Victor asks, feigning nonchalance.

Yuuri stumbles slightly at the last note of the song, his grip around Victor’s waist tighter as he finds the courage to utter the following wish: “Be my husband, Victor.”

It’s enough once again to make Victor’s heart swell. How many times in this lifetime would Yuuri cause his heart to stop dead in tracks, to illicit an honest to God gasp? Victor’s lost again in Yuuri’s presence, amazed by how far they’ve come together in life and in skating. Yuuri doesn’t wait for an answer and simply blushes harder, the alcohol taking complete hold of his mind. Victor waves Chris over to help him escort Yuuri back to their room, the same as they always have.

“Ah, Victor, I think I’ll miss dragging your sweet boyfriend to your room most of all when I buckle down on retirement.” Chris teased.

“Perhaps the next time you’ll be dragging him along with me, he won’t be my boyfriend.” Victor replies, smitten.

Chris genuinely curious, rests his hands on his hips. “I’m certain you don’t mean you’re splitting up. What’s up your sleeve, Victor?”

Victor smiles as he caresses Yuuri’s hair back, his soft snoring starts to fill the space as the alcohol has taken him out cold. Blue eyes filled with so much anticipation and sweetness meets Chris’ and he suddenly feels like he’s 12 again, watching the amazing junior Victor Nikiforov illuminate.

“The plan I’ve been working on, I can finally execute it.” Victor says, excited.

Chris’ eyes widen, as he immediately pulls out his phone. “Shall I let the rest of the group know?”

Victor nods, placing a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead before ushering Chris away. “We have some last minute arrangements to pull off. Come, we should do this somewhere privately. I don’t want to risk ruining the surprise.”

The following morning, Yuuri wakes up with a killer hangover and a sense of dread. The exhibition is tonight and he desperately needs to feel better. Luckily, Victor is one step ahead, presently by his bedside nursing a glass of water and aspirin in his hands.

“Good morning, моя любовь*.” Victor says softly *Translation: My love

“Ah, Vitya, spasibo!” Yuuri exclaims.

He peers behind Victor and can see a hotel cart filled with breakfast foods, the aroma overpowering his very empty stomach. Victor fluffs up pillows for Yuuri to sit back as he adjusts to the new day, carefully feeding him fruit and bites of bacon and eggs. Yuuri sighs in relief as he catches up to the present, the pangs of last night’s bender slowly leaving. He blushes as once again this year, he can’t remember anything past Chris handing him a flute of champagne.

“Anything new and embarrassing to report?” Yuuri asks, tenderly peppering a kiss atop Victor’s head.

Victor shows him the photos and videos that are less raunchy and revealing than previous years but still equally alarming. Yuuri ducks his face into his hands, how did he get that flexible while drunk? He pulls back and stares at his hands, noticing something gold is missing. His ring! He immediately jumps out of bed feverishly looking. Was it taken off? Did he lose it? Did someone steal it? He notices Victor calmly getting up and sees that his ring is missing too. He gasps, thinking of the worst possible scenario when Victor finally calms his nerves.

“They got dirty last night so I’m having them cleaned, I don’t think they’ll be ready in time for the exhibition, but we’ll make do, won’t we?” Victor says, taking his hand carefully in his.

Yuuri’s nervous at first, feeling bare and naked without the weight of the ring on his finger, but with Victor tracing around the outline of where it usually would be, he knows he can wait.

As they make it back to the rink to perform for the exhibition, Yuuri is left in a state of confusion wondering a couple minutes in where Victor could have gone. Disappeared without a trace. Yurio is the one who guides him to sit directly at the kiss and cry but offers no other explanation. Lights dim and a flurry of different lights cascade across the ice, a clear signal that Victor is next.

“Silver medalist Victor Nikiforov’s theme for this season has been new beginnings. But tonight’s exhibition piece he says will take us all the way back to the beginning of his coaching days.” The announcer begins.

The beginning of his coaching days? Yuuri looks on amused. Was he doing the Eros or Agape routine? Suddenly, a singular spotlight shines brilliantly on Victor’s face, his costume for the evening was an exact tailored replica of Yuuri’s free skate outfit but in hues of fuchsia with navy blue, jade, and gold sequins. The first few chords of the piano piece strike a nerve down his spine, Victor was skating to Yuri on Ice!

“Victor Nikiforov will be performing all four quads, reminiscent to Katsuki Yuuri’s past Grand Prix Final days, a feat he has never done or featured in his own routines before!” The announcer exclaimed.

Yuuri, along with the rest of the audience are completely enthralled. Captivated by the way Victor drew attention to detail and gasping at the ease of how he was completing the technical aspects of his jumps. Though Yuuri worried about Victor overexerting himself he couldn’t help but being simply amazed. This was the Victor he loved for so many years, the one who surprised him day after day, and this particular surprise was already bringing him to tears. He physically clutched at the space above his heart, making sure it wasn’t threatening to spill over.

He watched as Victor reached the portion of the program where he realizes he’s found an emotion close to love, however his eyes aren’t closed at this part of the performance. Yuuri realizes Victor is staring directly at him, eyes warm and filled with a love only he has ever known. As Victor neared the step sequence, Yuuri felt compelled to join him in the ice, a passion that only Yuuri knew was exuding from Victor. Oh, what he would give to leap out there now to embrace him.

“Last up is Nikiforov’s signature move the quadruple flip. He’s never attempted this jump so late into the program let’s see how he manages it!” The announcer spoke.

As fatigued as he was, Victor was determined to show not only the world but also Yuuri the lengths he would go to prove how much he adored this program, how much he adored Yuuri. And he delivered, the jump is seamlessly perfect.

“The quadruple flip is complete! He’s done it! What a beautiful culmination of history we’re experiencing here tonight folks! Four quads with a signature move on the latter half of the program! Most have wondered how much farther Victor Nikiforov could go, but it appears he’s letting us know not even the skies are a limit!” The announcer exclaims.

The roars of applause and screaming is deafening and Yuuri is desperate at this point for the program to end. Towards the end of the skate, the flurry of lights dimmed till the original spotlight stopped on Victor again, his final spin ending in him gently positioning into a kneeling glide back to Yuuri at the kiss and cry, his hand extended out for him. Stunned, Yuuri looked at Victor who was panting for his life, not used to the stamina that’s needed to complete the program with all four quads but he had done it. Overcome with joy and gratitude, Yuuri takes a step forward until the lights suddenly go out.

When they’re back on again, Yuuri notices a red carpet has been strewn across the ice, and in front of him is a white banner with pink lettering held up by his loved ones reading “Congratulations on your next level, Victor and Yuuri!” Next level? Yuuri peered down to see Victor still kneeling, the sound of the audience gasping and squealing in delight, and he sees it carefully tucked in a black box, two silver bands.

“Eh?! Ladies and gentlemen, it appears this exhibition is a proposal!”

“Not just a proposal,” Victor thinks. “It’s a proclamation that this man right here, he’s mine. And I am his.”

Victor looks on at the bewildered Yuuri who is wrapping his head around what’s happening, when he takes his hand in his and tenderly kisses his knuckles. Yuuri’s eyes spill over with tears, this exhibition was an ode to him, he knew that much. But a true proposal? Victor peers over to the banner made especially for the moment and Yuuri’s gaze follows, noticing each person out there is holding onto a gift wrapped in rice paper.

“Victor…” Yuuri whispers.

“It’s a yuino ceremony, in our own special way, Yuuri.” Victor chuckles in delight.

They glide over to the center of the rink, cameras ablaze as they capture the scene. Yuuri is situated in front of his parents who are holding onto to shiraga(white thread of hemp), representing the wish that the couple grow old and gray together. Next is Mari who is waving around a naganoshi(clam shell), representing longevity, she is swaying with an inconsolable Minako who is holding suehiro(fan), representing a happy future.

Next to them are Yakov and Lilia who are also holding onto shiraga, Yuuri looks over at Victor who shrugs and says, “They’re the closest I have to parental figures.”

Yuuri squeezes Victor’s hand, as he gazes at Georgi who is also holding on to a naganoshi his eyes transfixed on Mari. Mila and Yurio are holding onto surume (dried cuttlefish) representing the wish for a long marriage. Last but not least are the Nishigori’s holding onto pieces of konbu(dried kelp) to represent healthy children. With a flourish Chris and Phichit are beside them, Chris is handling a bottle of sake’ while Phichit is waving a fan of yanagi-duru(cash gift). Everyone is present, the audience is captivated, and all Yuuri can do is revel at the beauty of it all. Victor caresses Yuuri’s face tenderly, dropping down once again onto one knee.

“Yuuri,” Victor spoke, voice filled with love. “You asked me if you did anything weird last night. And truthfully you didn’t, however you asked something of me. Something I’ve been waiting to hear forever. And I’m answering with this, please give me the honor of growing old together. Stay with me always, even after we leave the ice.”

Victor carefully takes Yuuri’s hand, waiting for an answer. Yuuri gives him a squeeze, an affirmation of consent. How could it not be yes? It’d always been Victor for Yuuri.

“Of course, Мой один единственный*” He replies in delight. *Translation: my one and only

Victor rises from his kneeling position, eyes watering from how perfect the sentence that Yuuri had spoken to him was. Where did he learn that? Yuuri coyly peers over at Yurio whose arms are folded together.

“Thank me later, old man.” He stiffs.

Yuuri’s hands shake as Victor places the silver ring over his ring finger, he takes Victor’s lithe hands into his, pressing a kiss into his palms before returning the gesture. This grand gesture was more than enough to take the original and personal declaration on the steps of the cathedral in Barcelona from something that was like a proposal to something real. They embrace each other, both overcome with the explosion of life and love merging into one. Their union finally merging into one. Yuuri not giving it a second thought pulls him in for a kiss. Somehow it still elicits a gasp from the audience, but they are delighted.

“Congratulations on your marriage, for real this time! Everybody! My best friend is finally marrying the love of his life! Please congratulate them!” Phichit exclaims before going back to snapping as many pictures as humanly possible.

#katsuki yuuri #victor nikiforov #victuuri #yuri on ice #yoi #victor x yuuri #yoi drabble #yoi drabbles #yoi ficlet #ficlet #my writing #s o f t #f l u f f #remember that be my husband victor teaser #here it is!#this is one meaty ficlet so I put the rest under a read more to avoid clogging

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ineffectualdemon · 6 years ago

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Victor Nikiforov Hates Katsuki Yuuri (but not really)

Ao3 link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17809688

Victor hated Yuuri Katsuki.

It wasn't that he hated him on a personal level. For all he knew Katsuki was a very nice person, seeing as they had after all never really spoken. Just polite hellos and good lucks in passing at Worlds and Grand Prix qualifiers.

So he really couldn't comment on Katsuki on personal level.

But on a skating level...by hell did Katsuki piss him the fuck off.

It had started only a few years ago. Yakov had been harping at him to put more emotion into his skating and Victor hadn't understood why.

He won didn't he? What did it matter if he was faking the emotion?

But when he sat down to go the the skaters contending in the Grand Prix that year he had suddenly got what Yakov meant.

At first he had just noticed that the skater he was watching was a fan as they incorporated little things he recognised from his own skating. But as he kept watching a mix of shock and delight stole over him.

Who was this skater who bled his emotions onto the ice, skating like his very movement was what created the music?

The answer? Yuuri Katsuki.

Someone who had the potential to steal the gold right from under him.

For the first time in a long time Victor felt excited about the competition.

Right up until he watched Katsuki’s first qualifier and watched him fall and then over rotate jumps he should have landed.

Then Victor was angry.

He'd seen Yuuri nail that jump before but the one he watched just now was so clumsy in comparison.

Katsuki was better than this!

What's worse is only Victor seemed to realise that.

Yakov said he was a good skater but unremarkable. Even his fans saw him as a good skater but seemed surprised if he scored a personal best.

Victor was infuriated.

It was clear to him that Katsuki could easily score in the hundreds if he could just pull his head out of his ass! And yet everyone who claimed to support him didn't expect him to score above the late eighties! Why couldn't anyone else see it!?

He tried to bring it up to Chris once but even that was a failure.

“Yuuri? Why are you asking about him?” Chris had asked in surprise.

“I just noticed his skating and wanted to know your thoughts.” Victor asked with his usual smile that suggested he didn't really care.

(But he did care. Ridiculously so)

“He's a good skater, we've competed against each other a fair few times. He's definitely good, in a few years I think we can expect him to win bronze at thing like the GPF”

Bronze.

As if Yuuri couldn't steal gold if he just got his shit together.

Victor tried not to let it get to him but whenever he had to sit back and watch Katsuki be mediocre he wanted to scream.

And right now Victor was so angry at Katsuki he couldn't spit nails.

What the fuck was that free skate!? Katsuki had been so close to bronze after the short and Victor had fully intended to put his arm around him on the podium and whisper at him to stop fucking around and reach his damn potential already.

But then he had to self combust and ruin it.

Victor decided to vent his frustration by telling Yuri how he fucked up but Yakov took that over.

That's when he let his gaze move around trying to find...ah there the fucker was.

Best to ease him in by appealing to his inner fanboy. Then once he's over Victor could finally lecture him about how he needs to stop wasting his fucking potential on mediocre programs.

What he did not expect was for the fucker to walk away from him!

The banquet then.

Victor would be sure corner him and ask him what he needs to reach his potential.

Maybe Victor could help!

He was pretty sure he could talk Yakov into taking Yuuri on after all...

And maybe then he could let his mild obsession with the man go.

Maybe…..

Maybe he didn't hate Katsuki as much as he thought he did…

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuri!!! on ice #victuuri #yoi fanfic #victor nikiforov

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mentallyunstableunicornwrites · 6 years ago

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The Journal

Viktor always considered himself a storyteller and while he would never out and out lie about anything, a little stretching of the truth never hurt anyone right? Why bother telling someone about your boring trip to the grocery story when instead you could tell them about the way traffic had backed up because a street performer got into a confrontation with one of the pedestrians after he lost control of his prop and accidentally knocked said pedestrian in the head with it. He had, what he considered, a flair for dramatics. No one disagreed with him, but no one told him that it wasn’t necessarily a good thing either.

It was this story teller’s spirit that lead Viktor to buy the journal in the first place. Leather bound with an intricate tree embossed on the front cover. The pages were pressed pulp mixed with flower petals. It screamed ‘buy me’, and so he did. He cradled his treasure in his arms all the way home trying to plan on what he wanted to do with such a splendid journal. It was too grand for something as medial as daily journaling.

The journal was deposited on his desk as soon as he got home and left, but not forgotten. Viktor plotted and planned all day on what he would do when he finally settled on writing a story of his own. When night came and his tasks were completed for the day he sat at the desk with a steaming cup of tea and jam. He gently ran his fingers over the first blank page before inspiration struck and he set his pen to the paper.

The next day the Russian team flew out to Sochi for the Grand Prix finals. The entire trip had Viktor writing adamantly in his journal much to the curiosity of the rest of the team. But Viktor just brushed off their questions, lost in his own story. He was seen often with the journal in their spare time, so much so that Yakov had to physically remove the journal from Viktor’s possession so that he would focus on the competition.

“Get me a gold and you can have it back. Now get your butt on the ice!” he barked out.

With the journal out of his possession he felt lost. He had become so invested in what he was writing that nothing else seemed to matter. Things as they were, however, Viktor easily placed first in the men’s single event and promptly requested his journal back. With a sigh the coach released the journal back to Viktor who carefully placed it in his bag before escorting Yuri out of the arena.

As he was walking something felt strange, like he had done this before. Deja vu is what it was called right? But this wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t just a feeling that he had been here and done this before. It was the ability to know what would happen next, the words that Yuri would say to him moments before he said them. The fact that in a moment he was going to turn around and…

“Commemorative photo? Sure!” and say something stupid. He watched as the younger man in front of him turned around and walked away. Viktor was sure that this had all happened exactly like this… but how?

Viktor was left questioning himself through the press’ constant questioning. He could hardly pay attention, finger poised at his lips in deep thought. That had happened before, he was sure of it. It wasn’t until he retired to his hotel room and saved his journal from its dark prison that he remembered. Those exact words, that whole scene. It played out just as he had written it. No, it must all just be coincidence, right?

That night he wrote again. A happier part of his story. The young man, fresh off of his failure from the major skating competition and depressed, indulges in his alcohol just a little too much. He just wants to forget. It is here that he catches the eye of a prominent skater and they dance the night away. The young man leaving without giving the skater his name. He goes home to think about what to do with his life.

Through practice for the gala that night Viktor felt nervous. What if he really did have something to do with the way that things turned out? It was a far fetched idea to be sure, but the thought kept tugging at his mind. Three jumps he missed, three simple jumps that someone at his level should never miss. Yakov pulled him off the ice and demanded to know what was wrong.

“I am just not feeling well.” He lied and went back to his hotel room to sleep, or rather toss and turn until the banquet that night.

He was on edge through the event but as the night wore on and his “drunk skater” had yet to show, Viktor found himself being lulled into a false sense of security. It was in the split moment that he allowed himself to forget that things began to move. He watched as the young Japanese skater, drunk with a tie looped around his head, approached them, begged Viktor to watch him dance and if he beat Yuri in a dance off to become his coach. It was that moment he knew he messed up.

There was something about the journal, something that made him move, made him become a part of the story. He could only watch as the man in front of him danced on the pole with Chris. He was forced to dance, a smile on his face, with the man who he didn’t know. It was a special kind of hell. The more he danced with him, the more he spoke with him, the more he fell for him; and yet he already knew that he was doomed to end the night without a name.

He tried several times to open his mouth to ask, to beg for mercy, but it wasn’t in the script that he had set for himself the night before. Unable to stop the wheels of motion Viktor watched as the skater drunkenly stumbled off into the hallway and out of his life for good. Or was it?

With no explanation at all, Viktor ran up to his room and grabbed the notebook. He quickly jotted down a few line about the young skater meeting his idol again, in the hotel lobby, where they would talk in earnest about anything and everything. The man would leave and give him a name, Yuuri, and they would talk and perchance love.

Viktor sat for hours in the lobby and waited. Several times the woman behind the counter asked him if he needed anything. The only thing that he needed the attendant couldn’t provide, he needed his Yuuri. Finally giving up Viktor went up to his room and grasped the journal in both hands cussing at it for making him look like a fool. In a fit of anger he threw the book across the room where he left it, forgotten and alone until the following morning.

Viktor packed away the last of his hygiene items and grabbed his bag in preparation to head out the door before he remembered the book he chucked into a corner the night before. With an annoyed sigh he backtracked and picked it up. The book had landed with it’s cover open to the back of the book, fine script looking back at him.

There are three things to know about this book

What you write will happen as you write it.

So long as it does not take a life

And so long as it does not force one to love.

He looked at it for a long time in shock at the words he saw there. So he was right, the journal did possess the power to make things happen. He gave himself a little smile, he had a plan to meet his friend again, all he had to do was write it out.

April came and with it Viktor’s desperation grew. He knew he needed to meet the skater, but he didn’t know how. It wasn’t until his phone was inundated with messages of a particular youtube clip that he knew how he was going to make this happen.

“Makka, let’s go on an adventure!”

He quickly wrote in messy scrawl of a snow storm hitting Japan and the arrival of the skater’s idol. What fun would it be if his entrance was boring. He quickly grabbed a few items and threw them in a bag, clipped Makka’s leash to her, and pointedly left the book on his desk, the pages he had written on ripped out and a note to whomever found the book to use it wisely.

#fyeahvitya #vicuuri #yuuri katsuki #Yuri on ice #Viktor Nikiforov

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yoiotdfics · 7 years ago

Text

Fic Recs for March 2017

birthday surprise by suga

Summary:

other than his grandpa, there was only one other person yuri wanted to hear from on his birthday.

Fall Where They May by flammablehat

Summary:

Viktor has a special talent for magically normalizing every strange thing he does.

all of rome by basilique

Summary:

Right after their wedding, Yuuri and Viktor go on Honeymoon to Rome. They decided to splurge on a visit to an all-male bath house, because why not? And when it turns out to be something of a venue for sexual exhibitionism, why not join the fun? When in Rome…

Kings in Couture by slightlied

Summary:

a devil wears prada au in which victor is the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, yuuri’s his new secretary, and instead of talking about his feelings, victor just sends him on a bunch of errands

The Calm Before A Storm by iamthefacebehindthemask

Summary:

Early mornings had become Victor’s least favorite time of the day.

Emordnilap by Dawn on ICE (Dawn_Blossom)

Summary:

27-year old, five-time consecutive gold medalist Yuuri Katsuki is planning on retiring after his disgraceful performance at the Sochi Grand Prix FInal.

Victor Nikiforov is a better skater than him (the skating community says otherwise, but what do they know?) and therefore it does NOT make sense for him to show up in the onsen and declare that he’s going to be Yuuri’s student.

Imagery by Cesare

Summary:

Because Yuuri is never, ever lucky, of course Victor finds his poster stash.

This Tastes Fishy by otapocalypse

Summary:

Yuuri is comforted by his best friend

Making History by Moonlight: Bishounen Senshi Skater Moon!!! by virdant

Summary:

Yuuri moves to St. Petersburg, ugly tie in hand, prepared to make history and fight evil.

Do your research by classicpleistocene

Summary:

After World Championship, Michele and Emil take a week off together to be cuddly boyfriends and discover each others’ secrets.

i’m just going to the store by bosbie

Summary:

Accidental masked vigilante Victor Nikiforov.

Or: how Victor’s impulsiveness backfires and creates one of the greatest living internet memes to ever come out of Russia.

see myself through someone else by maydei

Summary:

Victor is a mermaid that washes up on the Atlantic Coast amidst a strong tide. When taking refuge up a small sound, he meets an artist under a bridge.

trust me, he’ll say yes by JkWriter

Summary:

phichit was used to getting calls all hours of the day from the other skaters. he wanted to get those calls because he loved meddling in the love lives of his friends.

Getting the Words Right by Lazchan

Summary:

Viktor is out of town and Yuuri is left alone with Team Russia

between every breath that makes you whole and mine by incode

Summary:

Yuuri wakes up feeling… not so hot.

Victor will help. Victor really, really wants to help.

(Victor hums thoughtfully, and then he disappears into the closet for a moment. When he returns, he thrusts a bundle of fabric into Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri’s eyes go wide as he looks it over - his Team Japan jacket.)

crust and sugar over by ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Katsuki sits cross-legged, clearly in no hurry to go anywhere. “What’s your name? I’m –”

“I know who you are,” he cuts him off, then blushes, then hates himself for both those things. Katsuki looks surprised, and Yuri can’t think as to why. He’s a nationally ranked figure skater. He’s Yuri’s favorite figure skater.

Yuuri and Yuri become friends and Viktor develops a crush.

a pinprick of light by Crollalanza

Summary:

‘It’s as if all the flamboyance and fun has been used up on the ice. And now we become the grey people,’ Victor had warned Mila before her first Grand Prix banquet.

He’d not exaggerated, and the only social skills Mila was learning was how to stifle yawns before she could make a getaway.

Then Katsuki Yuuri drank a vat of champagne, and colour exploded into all their lives.

But it’s up to Mila and Sara to salvage his reputation when the events of the banquet threaten to go viral.

open up your eyes (breathe easy) by ashleypender

Summary:

Viktor loves to touch his Yuuri.

Sweet Spots by Crazy_Gaze

Summary:

“But don’t get too comfortable. ‘Cause he’ll make you wait for it.” Phichit grumbles. “And if you don’t, next thing you know, you’re tied up, can’t move, and then he’ll laugh at you, Victor.”

Victor looks far from opposed to the idea though. “Oh…” He says, a little starstruck. “I might not be too opposed to that.”

(In which Victor and Phichit don’t really talk about Detroit but about Yuuri instead.)

To what should i compare thee with fine ass?by wepreachelectric

Summary:

a simple, Shakespearien Sonnet about chris giacometti and his fine fine ass

resting pulse by cafecliche

For something all in his head, it can be brutally physical when it wants to be. But he’s an athlete - he knows how to listen to his body, categorize and interpret its signals. It doesn’t really follow that the smallest twinge in his knee could mean a very bad season at the same time full-blown palpitations mean it’s a day that ends in Y. But bodies are weird.

Victor, though. Victor is a stress test brought to life.

(Or: a story in heartbeats.)

Silver, Skype, Seduction by Laikin394

Summary:

Victor gives a great show. Especially, if Yuuri is the only viewer. or That one time where Victor and Yuuri are separated by different competitions and they make up for the lost time. AKA I wanted Victuuri Skype sex, let’s not pretend there’s plot in this.

a love that refuses to be silenced by wartransmission

Summary:

A year into being officially (and he doesn’t count what happened in Barcelona, because really, Viktor?) engaged and capable of sleeping with Viktor on the same bed without combusting into embarrassed flames, Yuuri learns something about his favorite skater and now-fiancé.

The Five Languages of Viktor Nikiforovby athoroughlybakedpotato (acommontater)

Summary:

Language is not only how you understand other people, but how you learn to understand yourself.

a new day by aquamarine_nebula

Summary:

There were three lies Viktor’s mind tried to convince him regarding his relationship with Yuuri.

First: Yuuri understood each and every one of his actions, so he had nothing to explain. Second: Yuuri was too good for him. Third: he loved Yuuri much more than Yuuri loved him.

(He was wrong about this.)

Flip, Sip, or Strip! bycutthroatpixie

Five times Yuuri totally owned at a college drinking game

(the plus one time he didn’t own at something is implied)

Figure Skators vs. Watermelon by Redawilo

Summary:

Two Russians, a Kazakhstani, and a Japanese man decide to spend a hot afternoon on a beach trying to hit a watermelon with a stick. Pure silliness ensues.

Skating Out Your Emotions by Lazchan

Summary:

Yuri is starting to wonder if he’s reading too much into Yuuri when he’s notskating, but the longer he stays in Russia, the more he notices the differences off and on the ice.

Have we got contact? by Crollalanza

Summary:

Seung-gil hadn’t been at all sure he’d watch the competition. What he’d do instead was practise and look after his dog, catching up on the highlights later because they were the only thing that could possible be useful. But then Sara Crispino texts him, and instead of ignoring her, he finds himself drawn into the excitement of the Grand Prix Final.

And it’s not long before everyone else starts messaging.

Champagne, Vodka, and Other Spirits by Dawn on ICE (Dawn_Blossom)

Summary:

Victor Nikiforov wouldn’t mind being dead if only the real estate agency would stop trying to sell his house.

the fall of this empire will be loud by elesssar

Summary:

In 1991, the Soviet Union collapses. In 1989, the Berlin wall falls. In 1987, Viktor Nikiforov, iconic figure skater and darling of the USSR, defects to the United States. In 1986, Yuuri Katsuki falls in love.

Even My Feet Smile For You by ineptshieldmaid

It’s because of this - this tendency of Viktor’s to be all limbs, always moving, even when he’s relaxed - that the thing with the feet happens. Not the thing with Yuri’s feet: that happens a lot, because Viktor is not subtle in his interests and Yuri is not the kind of man to pass up on leverage like that. No, this is the thing with Viktor’s feet. The one that leads to Yuri’s most widely-screencapped and circulated instagram post ever, and also Viktor’s most infamous profile picture.

Maybe He’s Born With It (Maybe It’s Phichit) by mousapelli

Summary:

Phichit altruistically saves Yuri from the melodramatic makeup tendencies of his fellow Russians.

Yuuri Enchanted by the__magpie

Summary:

At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.

The Year of King JJ by WithBroomBefore

Summary:

Yuri acknowledged, at some point, that JJ wasn’t objectively the worst person who had ever existed.

Friends First by EternalWhiteRose

Summary:

Otabek tells his coach that he wants to retire, but of course, news travels fast. Specifically, to the other side of the country. More specifically, to America and Canada.

OR; JJ and Leo visit Otabek unannounced.

#yoi #yuri on ice #fic rec list #March 2017 Fic Recs

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turtletotem · 7 years ago

Text

Ghost Story

Yuuri was pretty sure he was seeing a ghost.

The first time, he'd written it off as too little sleep and too much on his mind. Frankly, it wasn't the first time he'd been tired enough to see flickers of movement in his peripheral vision, and if this time his mind interpreted those flickers as the shape of a person skating—well, that wasn't exactly a shocking leap. He'd blinked, and turned to get the light switch, and when he turned back the figure was gone.

The second time was harder to explain. He stood at the entrance to the rink, starlight barely silvering the ice, and knew there was another skater there. Yuuri could see the cloud of his breath, hear the scrape of his blades. Furthermore, he knew exactly who the skater was. Only one person he had ever seen skated like that.

Victor Nikiforov.

Which, leaving aside the improbability of Victor Nikiforov ever turning up at Ice Castle skating rink in middle-of-nowhere Japan, was impossible. Because Victor Nikiforov was dead.

Yuuri had been there, the morning of the Grand Prix Final, when it was announced. He remembered the uneasy confusion throughout the arena when Victor failed to show for his short program—and the shock when word began to spread. Yuuri might not have believed it except that he overheard Victor's own coach, a grim and forbidding Russian man gruff with emotion, telling one of the event organizers. Victor's death had since been ruled natural causes, an aneurysm, something no one could have seen coming. Rumor had it the "aneurysm" might have been of the self-inflicted variety.

Yuuri had called out to the mysterious skater, that second time—only for the figure to vanish into the darkness without a sound.

"Yuuri, I know you're taking it hard," Phichit said when Yuuri told him, his eyebrows furrowing out of sync with his words over Skype. "We all are, but yeah, especially you—I know Victor was your hero. But if you're really starting to see things, maybe you should, you know, talk to somebody?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Phichit gave him a look. "I mean like a therapist. You could probably use that anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yuuri's voice came out much colder than he usually spoke to Phichit.

"Nothing. Hey, maybe it is a ghost. That would be exciting, wouldn't it?"

"Why would Victor Nikiforov haunt me, of all people? Because I shamed the entire sport at the Grand Prix Final, maybe." Though surely that was Victor's own fault, in some measure, for dying. Yuuri had been so shaken and upset that he completely bombed his free skate, coming in dead last, and spent most of the banquet afterward sobbing in the bathroom.

Now, lacing his skates in the echoey Ice Castle locker room, Yuuri paused to rub shaking hands on his trouser legs. If he really was worried about ghosts, he probably should wait until daylight—still an hour away—to visit the ice rink, but these days he couldn't bear to skate when anyone else was watching. Even Yuuko had lost that privilege, after letting that video of him skating Victor's Stammi Vicino routine get onto the internet. Not that he was mad at her, exactly, but it was embarrassing. He'd meant it as a memorial, a tribute, a way to say goodbye—the closest thing he would ever have, now, to sharing the ice with his hero. But with other people watching, it became arrogant, an insult to Victor's memory, someone like Yuuri thinking he could do any justice to Victor's last routine.

Anyway, ghosts didn't exist, and he wasn't going to be driven out of his rink by his own overactive imagination. Time to get started before he psyched himself out any worse.

The moment he stepped out of the locker room into the dark, empty rink, he knew he wasn't alone.

There it was, the same graceful figure he'd seen before. A mere shadow against the pallor of the unlit ice… but Yuuri would know it anywhere. The dance-like elegance almost disguising the power of his movements, the smooth lines and utterly perfect technique—damn it, Yuuri knew Victor Nikiforov when he saw him.

I guess I really am cracking up, Yuuri thought as Victor's ghost did a flawless quadruple loop. The illusion came complete with the scrape and rasp of blades on ice, the sound of weight landing after the leap. Hallucinating; finally, something I'm good at.

Well, if this was the only chance Yuuri would ever get to skate with his idol, he was taking it. Not daring to turn on the lights, Yuuri turned on the stereo instead, where his Stammi Vicino CD still waited.

The ghost on the ice—and Yuuri was close enough now to make out the shimmer of distinctive silver hair—froze in place as the music began, turning toward Yuuri and watching him. It was a little unsettling, Yuuri admitted silently, but after all, a figment of his own imagination couldn't hurt him, could it? Yuuri pushed off onto the ice, waited, began—the hand curving over his head, body half-falling back with it into the first backward slide of the routine…

The ghost, he saw with a thrill, had done the same, and was mirroring him as he continued, adjusting on the fly to make it a two-person routine. Yuuri tried to do the same, but—well, of course Victor was better at improvisation. Still, they made a pretty good go of it, circling around each other on the ice, every movement of the routine seeming to take on a new and sometimes very different meaning when it was being matched and mirrored by a partner. Yuuri had thought it a very sad piece, full of loneliness and longing, but now, when the song's plea not to be left alone was actually being answered, that longing was fulfilled and replaced with satisfaction and joy.

Skating in the dark like this was insane, of course. Too easy to get disoriented or trip on irregular ice, and better skaters than Yuuri had broken a leg that way. But it didn't feel dangerous. It felt perfect and easy, like a dream, and truly Yuuri wouldn't have been surprised to wake up and find he'd never gone to the rink at all.

He and Victor's ghost circled closer, spiraled toward each other, stretched out their hands in unison—and their fingers touched.

What.

Yuuri staggered, sudden choppy steps trying to regain his balance, body flooded with adrenaline as he woke from the dream to find himself still at the rink, skating with something that had touched him.

The ghost pulled to a much more controlled and graceful stop, head cocked, and said, in a painfully familiar Russian-accented voice, "Yuuri?"

The lights came on over the ice with their usual loud chunking noise, and Yuuko's voice called out, "Yuuri, are you skating in the da—oh!"

And Yuuri, balance already compromised, fell flat on his bottom on the ice. Staring up at Victor Nikiforov.

"I really didn't mean to scare you," Victor said, not for the first time, handing Yuuri the cup of tea Yuuko had brought from the rink's staff room. "I thought you must have recognized me last time. Especially when you started doing my routine—I thought that meant you knew it was me."

"You knew he wasn't dead?" Yuuri said to Yuuko, his voice coming out some strangled combination of a whisper and a scream. His hands clenched around the cup of tea, shoulders hunched under a blanket as he sat on a bench by the rinkside.

"He said he was going to tell you himself," Yuuko said, exasperated. "All he wanted from me was permission to use the rink."

"You were going to tell me…?" Yuuri finally dared to look directly at Victor. "Why? Why would you tell me anything?"

"Yuuri," Victor said impatiently, "you think I just happened to end up in Hasetsu, of all the places in the world? I came here for you!"

"For me?" None of this was making sense. "For what? No, wait, back up. How are you not dead?"

"Well, I never was dead," Victor said reasonably. "It's not hard to be alive when you haven't died yet."

Yuuri just stared at him.

Victor sighed and sat down next to him on the bench. "Okay, so, I faked my death. It was really, really hard getting Yakov on board—he and Yuri, the other Yuri, Plisetsky, they're the only ones who know. And Yuri only by accident. But I just couldn't do it anymore. Any of it. I know it is very stupid to be tired of being famous, huh? Tired of being the best at the thing you like most? But it was all… what is the word for something with nothing inside it?"

"Hollow," Yuuri said, unable to look away.

"Right, yes. I had worked so hard for so long, pouring everything into my skating until there wasn't anything left to pour." Victor's voice was perfectly pleasant and cheerful. "And I woke up, the morning of the Grand Prix Final, and realized I didn't care if I ever won another medal, that I would trade all of my medals to just feel alive for one second. So I told Yakov I was dead one way or another."

That… sounded like a very incomplete summary of a terrifying conversation. Victor was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. It occurred to Yuuri that it had been a very long time since he saw a picture or video of Victor where the smile reached his eyes.

"So then I was dead, and it was very liberating! Except I had pared my entire life down to skating, and now skating was gone and as soon as I caught up on my sleep I had nothing else to do. If I thought things were hollow before—well, this was even worse.

"And then I saw your video."

Yuuko poked Yuuri's shoulder as if to say I told you so, though she hadn't told him anything. She certainly hadn't told him Victor Nikiforov was alive. Yuuri swatted her irritably away. "What do you mean you saw my video?"

"Stammi Vicino. You were amazing, Yuuri—you always have been, but to see that—well, don't take this the wrong way. But if you're capable of that when you're out of shape and at the bottom of your confidence… I saw in you, Yuuri, the passion and love for skating that I used to feel. You have so much artistry and fire and drive. And for all of that to go into a memorial skate for me, it—it felt like you were calling to me, I guess. Of course I had to come find you."

"But why? Now that you've found me, what now?"

Victor smiled, and it was crooked and uncertain and sheepish, but it reached his eyes. "I thought you might like a coach."

#yuri on ice #My fic #happy halloween!#have a little ghost story!

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kingfisherunion · 7 years ago

Text

After the Cup of China - Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)

Relationships:

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov

Characters:

Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri

Christophe Giacometti

Phichit Chulanont

Additional Tags:

Fluff and Smut

Eros Katsuki Yuuri

Blow Jobs

Hand Jobs

Anal Fingering

First Time Blow Jobs

First Time

First Kiss

Sexual Tension

Tension

Fingerfucking

Edgeplay

Teasing

NSFW

Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the Filling in the Gaps series

“Vitya,” Yuuri moaned, leaning back on his elbows.

Viktor inhaled deeply, biting his lip. That name fell from his lips so casually, with such familiarity as if they’d known one another for years. His sweater was beginning to feel way too hot.

The moment Viktor’s touch went away, Yuuri began to ache for it all over again. Overwhelmed. No, he was hungry. He wanted more. He needed more. Viktor bobbed around the suite with an impatient hum.

“Yuuri?” he repeated. “Lunch?”

“No,” Yuuri asserted. The shock in Viktor’s face mirrored his own. What felt so natural on the ice, in front of everyone – this newfound eros – was surprisingly vulnerable here, in private. “This is how it always goes,” he said, his insides boiling. He had Viktor’s attention now. “You shower me with affection until the moment I show interest and then you tear it away! You came all the way to Hastsu to be my coach and then made me compete for it with that Russian punk! You gave me the Eros theme and then trained Yurio first. You held me while I struggled to sleep before the free skate last night and then threatened me with your resignation? From day one, you’ve been a relentless tease!”

Viktor looked on in silent intrigue as Yuuri fought to reign it in, to figure out where exactly he was going with this. He didn’t seem angry, impassioned if anything. His little fits were cute, Viktor thought. Really cute. His breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned for this to go.

“Vitya,” Yuuri moaned, leaning back on his elbows.

Viktor inhaled deeply, biting his lip. That name fell from his lips so casually, with such familiarity as if they’d known one another for years. His sweater was beginning to feel way too hot.

Yuuri was desperate. He had already taken it this far; he couldn’t go back now without getting exactly – everything – that he wanted. All the things he had fantasized about when he was alone in Detroit, afraid even to confide in Yuuko about. Viktor, selfish Viktor, had given him a taste of his wildest dreams realized. But Yuuri was not satisfied with just a taste.

“I told you to never look away. I have shown my eros to you and the entire world over and over. Why is it you’ve never shown me yours?” He lay supine before Viktor, shirtless and panting. He tried to play it cool, but his sweatpants betrayed his arousal. “You’ve worked hard to make me want you, Vitya, and it worked,” he purred. “I want you.” He grabbed Viktor’s hand and pulled him back to the bed. “Now.”

Viktor trembled as Yuuri guided his hand to his appendage, his breath shallow. A gasp escaped his lips as he felt the stiffness under his fingers. He grasped it tenderly and it throbbed, forcing a moan from Yuuri’s throat. It was enough to make him swoon.

“Yuuuuri,” he drawled as he began to stroke gently. His touch was electric. Yuuri was putty in his hands. “You’ve always been so thirsty.” He was becoming aroused himself, and as Yuuri wriggled out of his sweatpants Viktor could not hold himself back. He threw his sweater off, tossing it aside, and parted Yuuri’s lips with the thumb of his free hand, diving in for another kiss. Yuuri thrust his tongue between his lips, eager this time for more than just a taste. He was completely undressed now, the contours of his body glistening with sweat in the natural light from the window.

“Viktor,” he breathed. The world champion skater, his hero and inspiration, was working some kind of sensual magic with his fingertips as Yuuri fumbled with his belt. “Viktor, please.” He was done using cute nicknames as leverage. Viktor was right. He was thirsty. “You made me want you so don’t stop until you’ve given me everything!”

Viktor’s sex throbbed. How badly he wanted to thrust his length between those plump buttocks, to feel his cavity tighten around him, to crash his hips recklessly into Yuuri’s until both of them were drained. He looked on longingly as he stepped out of his trousers.

Yuuri gazed up at Viktor’s figure towering over him, so familiar even in its nudity thanks to all of the post-training baths. But seeing him hard was so new, so intoxicating. It was a sight Yuuri had only ever dreamt about.

“Please, Viktor! I skated a perfect Eros this weekend!” he cried, writhing with lust. Viktor wanted to give in. Those pleading brown eyes, the cheek flushed with want, the impeccable lines of the naked figure in front of him – they were almost too enticing to pass up. But he couldn’t help but play. He gave a coy little tut.

“A perfect Eros? Was it perfect enough to earn me gold?” he purred. Yuuri gulped, shaking his head sheepishly. “You know I have high standards, Katsuki Yuuri. I’ll fuck you after you win gold in the Grand Prix Finale.” He sat back on his heels, staring hungrily. Yuuri whimpered, caressing his hips. “However,” he continued with a self-satisfied smile, slowly kissing Yuuri’s neck, his shoulder, his chest, “there is plenty that I still intend to do to you right now.”

He kissed Yuuri over and over, slowly descending his torso and then down his hips, onto his thigh. Yuuri’s body shook with pleasure. Viktor inched closer and closer to his cock with every kiss until he was right on it, teasing his lips down the length to the head. A little drop of precum beaded at the tip, which he licked up ever so gently before taking Yuuri between his lips. Yuuri moaned as Viktor took his length slowly, giving gratuitous attention to every inch as he eased it deep into his throat. He pressed as deep as he could manage, holding Yuuri there until they were both seeing stars. He let go with a gasp and looked up with a grin, icy blue eyes watering.

Yuuri felt lightheaded. Already this was beyond anything he could have imagined on his own. He ran his fingers through that silver-blond hair and pushed Viktor back down to suck him some more. He obliged eagerly. Yuuri was not the only one who was thirsty. Viktor had been craving the taste of this soft flesh ever since he’d seen it, ever since the young skater had flaunted it in front of him at the Sochi banquet. He already knew this body well, even intimately. He understood how Yuuri moved; he’d helped him stretch his sore muscles increasingly often in the past few weeks. What restraint it had taken to abstain.

Now, he devoured Yuuri’s sex as it grew even harder. He wanted so badly to see his euphoric expression as his pleasure reached its climax. But he could wait. Yuuri was convinced he was a tease, so why not tease? He came up for air and continued vigorously with his hand.

“I’m hurt, Yuuri, to know you think I was playing games with you all this time,” he cooed, pressing his lips into Yuui’s neck. “Of the two of us, I’d say you’ve been the one playing me hot and cold. I gave up my home and my career to come and coach you after your Stammi Vicino. You practically wrote me a love letter and broadcast it worldwide, and yet when I arrived in hasetsu and tried to get close to you, you ran from me. I gave you Eros, the theme that perfectly represented my feelings for you, and you took your artistic inspiration from food.”

Yuuri could hardly focus on Viktor’s words. He wanted to defend himself but he was paralyzed by wave after wave of electric energy coursing through his body.

“Every moment, I tried to get closer to you. I wanted to know everything about you, but you closed yourself off. I asked you to eat with me, bathe with me, sleep with me, and you pushed me away. I asked you to view me as your boyfriend and you bristled. Yuuri,” Viktor’s grip tightened. “you have led me along on a string with your charms.”

The only response Yuuri could muster was a series of shuddering, gasping breaths. He could feel Viktor’s lips curl into a smirk on his neck.

“But since you’re so certain it’s me,” he snarled, catching Yuuri’s soft skin between his teeth, “I’ll play along. I’ll prove the piggy right.” He licked the spot he had just pinched, then bit down hard.

“Viktor!” Yuuri’s back arched, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Viktor felt a gratified swell beneath his fingertips and immediately let go.

Hot and cold.

Tears welled up in Yuuri’s eyes. He struggled and failed to bite back a sob. He clawed at Viktor’s shoulders in a feeble attempt to urge him on, to continue the immense pleasure that had, just a second before, seized his entire body. Before he could utter a single syllable of protest, Viktor snatched him up in his arms and kissed him, flitting his tongue teasingly in and out between Yuuri’s lips.

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quotablefanfiction · 6 months ago

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“Last night.” That was all he said. Yuuri frowned, peering at the screen… What the hell. That was him. On a pole. Had Phichit put out the pictures from their classes as retaliation for hanging up on him earlier? But that wasn’t the room in Detroit where they’d practiced. And that was Chris Giacometti on the pole next to him. “Oh my God.” Yuuri inhaled. “Where are my pants?”

Viktor bringing Yuuri up to speed on the banquet (chp. 2)

You can have everything… by shysweetthing (AO3) Yuri!!! On Ice – Teen – Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov #Alternate Universe #Fluff and Angst #Humor #canon Vicchan death #Dog based emotions #Victor is Extra

AU. Before the Grand Prix Final starts in Sochi, Yuuri finds Victor’s phone. He returns it--and hijinks and heavy flirtation ensue.

(Just about everything that happens at the Sochi GPF happens here, so if something that happens there might bother you, check the tags?)

Now with bonus epilogue!

~~~

Yuuri hated looking at pictures of himself. His hair had started sticking up again. And he had that horrible star-struck smile on his face. Plus, he was blushing, and blushing always made him look so young.

“Aaaaaah.” Yuuri winced. “I look so…”

Victor winked at him. “Cute!”

Before Yuuri could protest, Victor dropped the photo into Instagram and started typing a caption.

My champion! I thought I lost my phone this morning, but look who returned it? Our very own…

Yuuri watched as Victor’s agile thumbs (so agile, and no, he was not going to think about what else Victor could do with them) stopped moving. That fan-struck part of him that had been screaming mentally in the back of his mind came to a slow halt.

Victor didn’t know his name.

#fanfiction #quote #Yuri!!! On Ice #Viktor Nikiforov #Katsuki Yuuri #You can have everything…#shysweetthing

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toraonice · 7 years ago

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Yuri on Ice interview translation - Otomedia 2017/02 (p21)

Here’s the other interview with producer Manabu Otsuka from February’s Otomedia. This is from February so of course it's after the end of the series.

As I mentioned in the other post, Otsuka is a producer and also the current representative director of studio MAPPA, so he’s actually a very important guy. In other words, as long as he’s fine with more YOI we will get more YOI...

I know Otsuka from Shingeki no Bahamut Genesis, because he often appeared in the crazy staff live talk they had every week. I always had the impression that he is a nice guy who is open to challenges and lets creators fairly free to do what they wish, which in anime such as YOI is a good thing because it means that creators don’t have to fight against an army of narrow-minded higher-ups to make the story how they want it (though I think they still have to fight against sponsors, distributors etc..). Yamamoto and Kubo would probably have had a much harder time making YOI if they had teamed up with a more old-fashioned anime studio.

As most of the anime staff, Otsuka didn’t really create the story of YOI, he just managed the team that animated it, that’s why often speaks with “it’s my opinion” “I think that” etc.

***If you wish to share this translation please do it by reblogging or posting a link to it***  ***Re-translating into other languages is ok but please mention that this post is the source***

MAPPA producer Manabu Otsuka interview The story of the two continues after the Grand Prix Final

—Let us know how you feel now that the last episode aired.

In the last episode Victor decided to go back to competing and Yuuri decided to continue. I feel that (Mitsurou) Kubo-san and director (Sayo) Yamamoto-san were able to successfully depict the progress and final destination of their relationship of coach and student, as well as the theme of this work, which is “love”, bringing everything to a beautiful conclusion. —Was it decided from the start that Yuuri would place 2nd in the Grand Prix Final?

Yes. When I received the plan of the story until the last episode, it had Yurio (Yuri Plisetsky) as the winner. I think that, from the start, the story of Yuuri and the other figure skaters was portrayed as something that was going to continue even after the Grand Prix Final. If Yuuri had won he might have chosen to retire this season. —Were there any other alternative plans for the ending?

Kubo-san and director Yamamoto might have discussed other plans between themselves, but the production staff only knew the current ending. The way we portrayed the exhibition changed from the original plan, but I think that this version with Victor barging in on Yuuri’s exhibition and the story ending with the two of them was probably the best option. —Why do you think Victor decided to go back to competing?

Victor has been winning all this time with his overwhelming strength and has always surprised the audience, but I think that he might have gotten into a slump because he didn’t know what to do next. Just at that time, at the banquet of last year’s Grand Prix Final, Yuuri told him “become my coach”. This is just my imagination, but I think Victor might have seen it as an occasion for he himself to change. After that he becomes Yuuri’s coach and they fight together, and I think that Yuuri kept on surprising Victor. As they spend time together not only in tournaments but in their private life too, Victor is attracted by Yuuri and is influenced by him. Unlike when he was always winning alone, the influence of another person caused something inside him to change, and I think he might have become curious to know what kind of performance this new himself was capable of and how he could fight against the other skaters. Of course it’s just my personal opinion. —So this change led him to return to competing.

In the Grand Prix Final we are also shown how both his personal best scores in the short program and free skating were surpassed by the two Yuris, and he can’t just stay there twiddling his thumbs as the others surpass him. Also, in episode 11 we see Victor watching the other skaters’ performances, and of course I don’t think his feelings are that simple, but Yuuri takes it as “see, Victor wants to skate again after all” and “I’m the one who is stopping him from doing that”, so at the beginning of episode 12 he tries to set Victor free. —So you are saying that he didn’t decide to retire just because of his physical limits.

Yes. And I also believe that Victor’s return to competition might have stopped Yuuri from retiring. —I had the impression that Yurio’s free skating in episode 12 also had a strong role in stopping Yuuri’s retirement.

I do think that Victor himself and his choice were one of the ultimate reasons causing Yuuri to change his mind about retiring, but at the same time, on a different level, Yurio as an athlete showed him how earnestly he wanted to win against him. I think that power affected Yuuri’s feelings as a figure skater and made him decide to continue competing. Love and bonds with people are portrayed through his relationship with Victor, and the spirit of an athlete and the importance of keeping a strong motivation are portrayed through Yurio. I felt that the way the story is structured with Yurio, who is the youngest one, fiercely representing the essence of an athlete and confronting the adults, was very cleverly thought. —What do you think about Jean-Jacques Leroy (JJ), who placed 3rd in the Grand Prix Final?

He’s a character I really like. He was overwhelmingly strong ever since he appeared, has a crazy personality and many things about him are more definite than other characters. He says he’s “the king” and delivers. I think that JJ’s collapse increased the tension of the Grand Prix Final. I felt that he had the role of making the audience think “What will happen to Yuuri and Yurio?”, “What will be the results?”. As someone on the creators’ side I was also happy that in the end he was able to rank 3rd overall (LOL). —It’s amazing that he could recover in the free skating.

I was moved watching him, because unlike the previous JJ, this time he was suffering and struggling to achieve good results. In any sport it always leaves a strong impression when someone is able to overcome adversity, and depicting this through JJ’s development was a good thing for this work as a sport anime. —From episode 10 we have Otabek too.

Otabek is an athlete who pursues strength as a competitor. He stoically endeavors to become stronger to win competitions. This personality also makes him lonely, and I think that’s why he became friends with Yurio. Yurio has Yakov, Lilia and the others, but I was happy to see that he could finally find a fellow athlete who shared the same loneliness. —Regarding Yuuri and Victor, how do you interpret their relationship over the course of the whole anime?

This is just my opinion, but I think that for the two of them the relationship of coach and student is just the surface. It looks as if Victor showed up and saved Yuuri from a crisis, but at the same time Victor needs Yuuri too. Yuuri has fallen to the very bottom and Victor has lost sight of something. They meet when they are both going through a difficult phase and need to change something, they complement each other and go further ahead. Yuuri said “this feeling doesn’t have a name”, and I really think their relationship is just like that. It’s surely beautiful to call it “love”, but I think that it goes even beyond that; it’s a relationship where they motivate each other to go in a better direction. —Every episode had a big response, but do you think in episode 10 it was particularly impressive?

I felt that Kubo-san and director Yamamoto, just like Victor, like to always surprise the audience. And they even set a series of surprises in a row. Showing something clearly can be scary because some people might not be impressed by it, but it’s amazing how they still pushed forward without hesitation (LOL). However, I think that the aggressive stance of this work is what helped it reach the hearts of many people. I personally felt that episode 10 was the culmination of that. It was full of thrills. —Many people are already hoping for a sequel. What are the current plans for the future?

I think that Kubo-san and director Yamamoto want to continue as long as they can, and there are probably lots of things that they want to portray. If they wish so, the company and I will be glad to work on it as we’ve done so far (LOL).

#YOI #Yuri on ice #interview #translation #manabu ootsuka #producer #otomedia

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slusheeduck · 7 years ago

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In Which Yuri Plisetsky DEFINITELY does not have a crush

It’s ya girl back with another stupid YOI one-shot. This time with plenty of 15-year-old anger.

As much as Yuri liked to say that he knew he was right about everything, he was painfully aware that sometimes he made mistakes. He usually managed okay, because he was awesome and yelling seemed to fix most problems. Case in point: he found Viktor after flying to Japan despite not knowing a lick of Japanese purely because he yelled his name a lot. Yelling worked.

But, after this mistake, yelling didn’t work. Punching his wall didn’t work. He even tried to flip his bed, but it was too heavy, so he kicked it over and over. But that didn’t work, either. So, for the first time in his young life, Yuri had to think about how to fix a problem. And he might…

…have to talk to someone.

But who? Grandpa? No, Grandpa would listen, but he wouldn’t really get it. Mama? No. Ugh, god no, she’d coo over him and tell him how cute he was being. Mila would do the same thing. Georgi would start crying probably. Maybe Yakov? He wouldn’t get it. He did still have Viktor’s number…

No.

Viktor could never know.

Surprisingly, this whole…issue didn’t start until after the Onsen on Ice bullshit. Clearly, whatever weird practice regimen Viktor was doing with Yuuri was working, because he ended up winning. Even though Yuri was clearly the better skater, the minute that stupid pig got on the ice, something changed. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Yuri wasn’t sure if it was Katsudon’s face or steps or some sort of weird black magic demon stuff (which, admittedly, would have been really cool.). So he decided to watch some of his old videos to find out what it was. Know your enemy and all that.

This had been the mistake.

~~~~

Before this, he’d only seen the pig skate at the Sochi GPF. He’d been impressed with his short program—and even more impressed by the death glare he’d given the camera while waiting for his score. Most skaters were all smiles or tears in the kiss and cry, but not Yuuri Katsuki. That’s the kind of skater Yuri wanted to be next year: stony-faced after success, too confident to be moved even by a personal best score.

Yuuri Katsuki was so cool.

But then there was the free skate. And Katsuki had just fallen to pieces. He fell, twice. What was wrong? Was he sick? Yuri wondered if buying one of his posters had been a bad idea. Maybe it had jinxed him.

If Yuri’s faith in Katsuki had wavered during that terrible skate, it was renewed when he went to the kiss and cry. Again, there was that death glare to the camera! So cool!! Yuuri Katsuki didn’t give a shit and it was awesome!

Once the final was over (Viktor had won again, big whoop. Yuri would fix that next year) and Yakov was off yelling at Viktor for whatever reason, Yuri slipped away. He was going to find Katsuki. He had to meet this cool, collected skater face to face. He’d probably have better tips for next year than Airhead Nikiforov.

Yuri pulled the hood of his jacket up and stuck his hands into his pockets, slinking through the halls. He had to look cool when he talked to Katsuki. It wasn’t like he was a dumb fanboy or anything. He was basically an equal. They were just gonna talk. Like skaters. Cool skaters.

It took him a minute to realize the nerdy guy with glasses walking down the hall was actually Katsuki. He looked so different on the ice. Maybe it was to deflect the tons of fans he probably had. He was so much smarter than Viktor; stupid Viktor just kept making the fan problem worse. Maybe getting a pair of glasses would get those damn Yuri’s Angels off his back.

Well, he’d get cool glasses. Like, cheetah print ones. But still.

Yuri focused as he watched Katsuki slip into the bathroom, phone out. Huh? What was he doing in there? Maybe he was going to fire his coach for making him lose! Ohh, that’d be cool to see! Yuri slinked out from the hall and leaned against a wall for a moment. He didn’t want to be creepy. So he waited, just for a little bit, then slipped into the bathroom.

Immediately, he heard sniffling from the middle stall, and someone speaking in a language he couldn’t understand. Probably one of the sucky Juniors. Yuri was always surprised at what babies the other competitors could be. Some of them were even older than him.

Well, let that baby cry. He was looking for Katsuki. He had to be in here somewhere, letting his coach have it over the phone. But all the other stalls were empty, save for the one the crying was coming from. So…

No.

NO.

Yuri stared hard at the stall. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It couldn’t be Yuuri Katsuki crying in there. But he was so cool! So collected! He looked like he was gonna murder someone in the kiss and cry! So how could…why would…

As Yuri’s view of his new idol crumbled before him, he shook slightly. Rage began to fill him, and before he could stop himself, he kicked the stall door as hard as he could. A little yelp came from inside. Then, slowly, it opened.

Yuri glared at the man—if he could even call him that after crying like a little girl!—who opened the stall. Stupid Katsuki with his stupid glasses and his stupid falls. Katsuki froze up right in front of him, looking terrified. That just made Yuri even more angry. Where was the scary face he was wearing earlier?

Where was the Yuuri Katsuki he had seen on the ice?

He tried to find what to say. How could he bring back the other Yuuri Katsuki? The cool one? He glared for a moment longer, then pointed at Yuri.

“Hey.”

Katsuki didn’t respond. Yuri grit his teeth.

“I’m competing in the Senior division next year. We don’t need two Yuris in the same bracket.” Yuri spat out the name. To think, just a few hours ago he thought it was cool that they had the same name. “Maybe you should just retire already…” The rage bubbled out of him, and he shoved his face as close as he could to Katsuki’s as he yelled, “LOSER!”

He deliberately kept his walk slow as he exited the bathroom, making sure his words resonated with Katsuki. Hopefully he’d see it as a challenge. If one Yuri loved facing a challenge, the other would, too, right? Right?!

As he slunk down the halls, he came across Yakov.

“There you are! I swear, Yuri, you’re just as bad as Viktor when it comes to…” Yakov trailed off, catching the glower still on Yuri’s face. “Yurochka? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

~~~~~~~

This dumb…thing did kind of explain a lot. It explained why he put up with Katsudon’s drunk bullshit at the Banquet. Sure, at first, he’d taken the dance contest as Katsuki’s attempt to challenge Yuri back. But…well, he was kind of fun and actually not a bad dancer (though Yuri was better) and…

Ugh. No. Focus, Yura.

It also explained why he didn’t immediately tear up the poster of Katsuki when he got home. He’d actually put it up on his wall, naturally, as a reminder of who he had to beat. Next year was going to be a competition of honor. He was going to make Katsuki work if he decided not to be a loser and retire. And maybe once in a while he’d laid in bed and stared at it while marveling over how Katsuki was so nerdy and awful off-ice, but how he was absolutely breath-takin—

Goddammit.

Anyway. Back to after Onsen on Ice. As mentioned earlier, he’d pulled up every video he could of the pig’s skating before the Grand Prix Fuckup, as a way to gauge what he did that made him so spellbinding. He watched his routines from Juniors, from the Japanese Nationals, from his practice sessions in Detroit. He watched them all again. And again.

The question of why Yuuri Katsuki was so amazing on ice wasn’t answered.

But the question of why Yuri was so obsessed with him was.

And he hated it.

So now he had to win. He had to train harder. And he told everyone that it was because that stupid pig had taken Viktor from Russia, so he had to prove that he didn’t need Viktor to win the GPF this year. And every time he saw an update of Katsudon’s progress, he was that much more motivated to be better than him.

~~~~~~~~

Yuuko was the worst thing that ever happened to him. She reminded him of Mama, honestly; all enthusiasm and supportive of him even from abroad. She even kept texting him after Onsen on Ice and listened to his bitching about Lilia and Yakov.

That wasn’t why she was terrible. She was terrible because she kept giving him updates about the pig. Sure, some of them were prompted by him, but damn it, it wasn’t like he could stop himself from asking about stupid Katsudon! She should know not to tell him!

She was also terrible because she was teaching him Japanese. “In case you come back,” she said, sending a stupid little heart emoji. Granted, it was hard to learn Japanese via text. But one of the things that stuck was how to write his name.

ユーリ. プリセツキー.

If he’d had literally any other name in the world, that would have been cool to know. He’d write it everywhere, because Japanese looked cool and he could brag about it. But one idle thought, tapped out in a moment of weakness, had ruined this forever.

“is that how the other yuri spells his name too?”

Given the amount of emojis that followed, Yuuko’s nose was probably gushing blood. (Because that was just a thing that happened to Japanese people???) He shut his phone off immediately and hid in his room for the next eighteen hours.

Most of that time was spent kicking his bed enough to scare poor Potya off of it while blasting loud music over his headphones to drown out the shame.

A very small, insignificant part of it was spent listening to some dumb love song he’d downloaded on a whim. And, while listening, he definitely didn’t get teary over the injustice of being so misunderstood in the seriousness of his situation, and he sure as hell didn’t write out, in tiny, tiny characters, “Юрий + ユーリ”before scribbling angrily over them.

He wasn’t some sap.

~~~~~~~

Yuri really needed to burn that damn poster.

He’d brought it with him to Lilia’s to motivate him. To remind himself why he was fighting so hard, and whose beautiful STUPID UGLY FAT FACE he wanted to smash into the ice with his GPF victory. It was brought solely because of that reason. Definitely not because, after all of his purely academic searching of images, he thought it was one of the best official portraits of the pig yet. Certainly not because he found himself admiring the way Katsudon held himself in that pose. Absolutely not because it’s one of the few portraits where you can see that the pig’s eyes are a soft brown and a few pieces of hair had fallen across his forehead and his lips are slightly parted and maybe once or twice or five times in the middle of the night a stupid thought had entered Yuri’s head and he might have stood up on tiptoes and leaned forward to…

The first night Lilia wakes up to find Yuri Plisetsky screaming into a pillow, she worries. After that, she just lets him keep going until he feels better.

God knows she did the same thing at his age.

~~~~~~~~~

Mila prodded him into watching the Cup of China. “We have to support Georgi,” she’d said.

Hag. She knew exactly who they were going to watch, and it sure as hell wasn’t Georgi.

But he’d be fine. He’d be fine. He’d already seen the Eros routine, like, eighty times. He could probably skate it himself if he wanted to.

Skate it himself and look better doing it.

He tried to look as indifferent as possible as the pig got on the ice. He watched the tv with complete disinterest. His heart definitely didn’t jump as Yuuri the stupid ugly pig landed a perfect quad Salchow, using the exact method Yuri had taught him. When Mila pointed out that he’d tugged his straw out of his juice box during Katsudon’s performance, he loudly informed her that he’d done that on purpose and anyway juice boxes were for babies.

Due to some bad luck and thirst, his juice box was empty. Otherwise, he absolutely would have sprayed fruit punch right into Mila’s stupid face due to the smug look she gave him.

Even so, he managed all right with Eros. Basically complete disinterest. But then came the pig’s free skate the next day. He hadn’t seen that one fully.

Goddamn, he hadn’t been prepared.

His eyes were transfixed as he watched Yuuri skate. If he had been spellbinding before, he was an angel now. Yuri couldn’t even get angry about the falls and over-rotation. Katsuki was the picture of grace: neck outstretched, arms graceful, step sequence flawless. Yuri stared, jaw dropped and throat tight, as Katsuki tried to land the quad flip. It didn’t work, but the fact that he even tried to do something on Viktor’s level…

Yuuri finished, hand outstretched toward the camera, chest heaving and brown eyes wide and clearly so, so proud of himself. Yuri felt his heart flip. A part of his brain whispered, Let yourself have this. Succumb. Let yourself acknowledge that you have a cru—

And that’s when Viktor kissed the pig right on international television.

Mila whistled. “Well, guess we should’ve expected this from our Viktor. But that was some performance, don’t you…Yura, are you crying?”

“No!”

He definitely wasn’t crying. He definitely wasn’t jealous. He just…

He wanted to win so badly, was all.

~~~~~~~

The road to the GPF is hard enough without this…thing. So Yuri pushes it down and focuses. Before, he’d just wanted to win to prove to Katsudon that he was the better skater and that he was the best Yuri and that only losers cried and got kissed on television.

But then that shithead JJ came along.

Twice—fucking twice!—that self-absorbed Canadian snuck in and grabbed the gold. Even after Yuri snagged a personal best! He’d been so thrown that he’d actually caved and been nice to Katsudon. (Well, sort of. He’d still kicked him and yelled at him, and most of the motivation was showing how cool his Grandpa was.) He wasn’t even bothered by the fact that he slipped and more or less wished him a happy early birthday (which was November 29th and it didn’t matter how he knew that.)

Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t his target anymore. Now, JJ was the one to beat.

He could lose to Katsudon (he wouldn’t, but that was beside the point) and be okay if it meant that fucking JJ was below him. But god, that first place spot on the podium would be the best place to watch JJ squirm in his failure. So no more Grandpa, no more Katsudon.

His motivation was ruining JJ’s life.

And, surprise, it worked.

The thing creeps up again when he stands on the podium with Katsudon and Otabek (who, by the way, was his new super-cool best friend). Despite losing, the pig is still genuinely happy. Maybe he really is proud of Yuri. Maybe it’s from the engagement (?) or because he’s glad Yuri kept him from retiring like an idiot. But he’s smiling and care-free and goddammit, for a moment Yuri wonders if that whole “skating for love or whatever” thing actually wasn’t bullshit.

But then he remembers that he won his gold purely out of spite, and that snaps him out of thinking like a sap.

~~~~~~~~~

For one bright shining moment after the GPF, Yuri thought he finally, finally had someone to talk about this with. He had a friend. One that he made on his own! Surely Otabek would have some advice on what to do with this.

But there was one problem.

Beka…was really, really cool.

He was a DJ! He skated like he was in a war! He rode a cool scooter and wore sunglasses inside and was technically an adult and went to cool clubs and he was just so cool.

And the coolest thing of all was that he thought Yuri was cool, too. He said he had the eyes of a soldier. The eyes of a soldier! That was, by far, THE COOLEST thing anyone had ever said about him ever.

But this whole thing with Katsudon was definitely not cool. He’d just come off as some dumb, drooling teenage fanboy. So Beka could never know.

But there was a problem.

The pig had moved to St. Petersburg. So now they were rinkmates. And he’d expected it’d be like when he’d become Viktor’s rinkmate: he’d finally see all of the flaws and how terrible Katsudon was when he was around him for more than a week. He was expecting relief.

Instead, he was pretty sure he was in hell.

Shitty Katsudon was nice to him. He invited him over to his and Viktor’s place or when they went to explore the city. He asked for help with translations when Viktor wasn’t around and taught him how to use chopsticks. Sometimes he called him “Yura” instead of “Yurio” and it made him want to die.

He had to talk about it. He had to get this awful strangling feeling that was nice but also the worst thing in the entire world out of his chest. If he didn’t, he would probably die. And it’d be the lamest way to die ever.

But again, who could he talk to? Beka was too cool. Lilia would probably tell him to kill that part of himself (to which he would yell back “What do you think I’ve been trying to do, hag?!” And then he’d have to do an hour of grand adages.) Yakov and Grandpa wouldn’t understand, because they were old men. Mama and Mila would be terrible. And Viktor…god no.

But who? Who would understand the pain of having a…..c r u s h……..on someone who would probably never, ever think of him that way?

No.

NooooooooooOOOOOOOOOO.

~~~~~~~~~

Hell wasn’t having your crush live nearby and be friendly to you. It wasn’t having your crush be a rinkmate and constantly have to look at his stupid fat beautiful face on the ice while listening to his fiancé gush over how beautiful his stupid fat beautiful face was. It wasn’t having catching your crush making out with said fiancé in the locker room when all you fucking wanted was to put on your skates.

Hell was your crush being the best option to talk to about having a crush on him.

“Did you mean to text me this morning?” the pig asked as they warmed up. Yuri felt like he was going to throw up.

“If I didn’t want to text you, I wouldn’t have sent it, dumbass.” Yuri hissed out the insult to really drive home the fact that Katsudon wasn’t that important to him and he totally hadn’t been staring at his phone for an hour before finally sending the ‘i wanna talk after practice” text to him.

The stupid pig stared at him curiously, but nodded. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I’ll tell you after practice.” Yuri hopes his face isn’t red, because Jesus Christ does he not need that right now, and he skates away. To try and combat the anxious feeling building in his chest, he does a quad Salchow right there and then.

It doesn’t help much, but it does look cool.

Practice drags on forever. Yakov makes him do drills like some novice. Viktor and Yuuri are all over each other on the ice, giggling and kissing and generally just being gross. Yuri debates calling off the stupid talk and just going home to throw up instead. But that won’t make him feel any better. He has to do this, even if it’s the worst thing he’s ever done.

The two Yuris exit the ice while Viktor hangs back to be yelled at by Yakov probably for being an idiot. In the locker room, Katsudon is the one who brings up Yuri’s impending death.

“So what did you want to—”

“Not here!” Yuri hisses, then glares down at his skates. “I don’t want Viktor to hear. Just…just you.”

He chances up a glance at the pig, who looks surprised and…what, touched?...at his statement. He quickly adds, “Will you be able to survive being away from him that long, pig?”

Yuuri gives him that infuriating smile that says he knows Yuri’s being prickly on purpose, and he says, “I think I can manage for a little bit, yeah.”

Katsudon doesn’t say any more on the subject, even after they’re changed and marching out into the Russian winter. Yuuri pulls out his phone—probably to text Viktor some gushy love crap—and Yuri tries not to look at him or think about how it’s kind of cute that his ears get red in the cold because that’s a LAME and STUPID thing to think about.

Yuri leads the way into the first café he sees, with Katsudon following quietly after. When the idiot fumbles his order, Yuri barks it out for him. He orders the same tea with milk at every place, it’s not like Yuri pays attention or anything.

It’s not until they’re both sitting, hot drinks in hand, in a very cute corner of the café that would be a very nice area for a date that would never ever happen, that Katsudon decides it’s time for Yuri to die.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Yuri fidgets. He takes a long drink of tea. He burrows his nose into his scarf. Yuuri is annoyingly patient with him, watching him with those stupid doe eyes. Finally, Yuri swallows, keeping half his face buried in his scarf.

“What do you do...when you like someone?” Yuri grimaces and tries to burrow deeper into his scarf. “Like…really like them?”

Immediately Yuuri’s face softens, and he smiles. “I’m…not really sure I’m the right person to ask about this, Yura.”

“Yes, you are. Everyone else would be stupid about it.” The pig will probably be stupid, too, but with Yuri’s current condition, he could tolerate that stupidity. He watched Yuuri hard, frowning beneath his scarf, as the pig stayed quiet, stupidly soft brown eyes staring down at his cup. Was he just not going to talk? Was that better or worse?

“Okay, but really. I…don’t know what to suggest to you. Tell them?”

“Нет.”

“Why?”

Yuri grimaces as he feels his face grow hot. He hated this. Hated. This. Maybe he could just strangle himself with his scarf. “H-They’re seeing someone.”

“Oh…”

“I don’t want your pity, pig! I want a solution!” Yuri snaps, earning a couple glances their way.

Yuuri puffs out a breath, looking away. “I…I don’t know what to tell you.” He gave a small smile, an awful one that made Yuri’s heart ache so hard he nearly punched himself in the chest. “I know you’ll think I’m a loser for this, but…it’s only been Viktor since I was twelve. I spent most of my life pining for someone who didn’t know I even existed. I didn’t think he’d ever see me like I saw him.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” Yuri blurts before he could stop himself. “And it sucks. It really sucks!”

“I know it does.”

“And then I see him and if he does literally anything, I just…it’s like I’m having a heart attack and it doesn’t stop and I like it but I also really, really hate it, Katsudon. I hate it so much!”

“Having a crush is the worst,” Yuuri agrees.

“It is!”

This conversation is surprisingly…not terrible. Yuri seemed to be doing a good job of keeping Katsudon in the dark, and Yuuri was giving him exactly the kind of sympathy he’d been dying for. Which probably wouldn’t help in the crush department, but in the moment, it feels so good to get it all out. Yuri slumps forward, chin plopping into his hands.

“The worst is when he skates,” he mutters, looking at his quickly cooling tea. “He’s like something out of a dream. Like the moment he’s out there…”

“The whole world stops, and it’s just him.” Yuuri says these words slowly, and Yuri starts to nod, but he freezes as he catches the emotions flitting over Katsudon’s face.

Realization.

Guilt.

Distress.

Sympathy.

Shit.

Yuri sits up straight, eyes wide. For the first time in his life, he’s speechless. He fucked up. He really, really fucked up.

Katsudon knew.

Was there even any way to recover from this? Should he just die? What was the quickest way to manage that? He was already in hell, so it wouldn’t be any worse than just sitting here, staring at Katsudon who now totally knew that he had a crush on him.

Just as Yuri was about to throw the table and run, a hand reached out to rest on his arm. If he wasn’t in shock, he would have thrown it off and continued with the table plan. But considering his entire world was crumbling at the moment, he couldn’t do anything more than stare up at Yuuri—stupid fucking beautiful shitty understanding asshole Yuuri—mutely and wait for the inevitable, “Oh, Yurochka, I’m so sorry…”

It didn’t come immediately. For a long moment, Yuuri simply stared at him. He wasn’t mad—which was good but also not because if he’d been mad then they could fight and Yuri was good at that—but he didn’t look too happy either. After a long moment, he moved his chair closer. What was he doi—?

Yuri’s crumbling world came to a grinding halt as the stupid pig pulled him into a tight hug.

This wasn’t like the Rostelecom Cup. He couldn’t fight this; he was in too much shock. So he just sat there, stock still, as Yuuri gave him what had to be one of the top five best hugs in his life.

“It sucks,” Yuuri finally whispered. “I know it does. It’s the worst thing in the world. And…and it’s really, really unfair that I got the ending I did.”

Yuri manages a stiff nod. Yuuri just hugs him tighter and he feels himself melt, just a bit, into the hug before Yuuri pulls back to look at him with the most hopeful, wonderful smile he’d ever seen.

“But Yura, you’re amazing. Look at what you did at the GPF, and I know you’re gonna make us all work three times as hard at Worlds!” His look softened, and his smile warmed. “You’ll find your own Viktor someday, I know you will.”

Yuri’s soul is forcibly ejected from his body.

“You think…I…Viktor?!”

“Like I said, I completely understand, and…” Yuuri’s cut off as Yuri gets to his feet and kicks his chair back. “Yu—”

“This conversation’s over, pig!”

It turned out, hell wasn’t talking to your crush about your feelings for him.

Hell was having your crush think you liked Viktor FUCKING Nikiforov.

#yuri on ice #yurio #yuuri katsuki #yuri plisetsky #fanfiction #yuuyu #But intensely one-sided #BECAUSE NO ONE'S FUCKING WRITING IT #AND I NEED IT

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theaveragepenguin · 7 years ago

Text

fanfic: two less lonely people in the world

(Also available here.)

When your life is defined more by what you should have—could have, would have—done, rather than what you actually did, you start to lose sight of the purpose of it—if you’ve ever truly known it. You’re lost in that space between giving up and pushing on; you drag yourself down with an endless spiral of what-ifs, and you drown and drown and drown and you’re wasting your potential away because what’s the point, really, if you were never good enough in the first place?

You never truly know until you try, right?

Wrong.

You know. You know deep in your bones that you’ve peaked. You know that your mind can only take so much doubt, and that your body can only take so much abuse. Is it worth it? Are you worth it?

Yes.

Vicchan.

No. It’s not.

I’m not. I wasn't—

But then, there you were.

Victor.

Life can be defined by an innumerable amount of moments in time, Vitya, but you—

You have defined me with ten.

One

You gave me a dream. I was twelve when I first saw you dance across the ice on a small TV screen, and you were wonderful and beautiful, anata. You have to understand, Vitya. I was shy, and though I didn’t know it yet, afraid of the world. But suddenly, there you were, and then I wanted to be like you—and skate like you, and talk to you, and compete against you.

I wanted to be the one to stand on that ice and steal the gold from you with the grit and grace endured by my own two feet and—

Two

Two minutes and twenty-three seconds. That’s how long your short program was in the 2004–2005 season. You were sixteen then, and it was your last year in the junior division. You were crowned with blue roses, and you looked so happy—and of course you did, you did just break a world record.

You know I love your routines. Yuuko and I skated that one for months. We downgraded your jumps to singles and doubles, but the majesty of it never wore off. We had so much fun, and even Takeshi joined us—we skated circles and figure-eights and memories. We were together a lot, the three of us, at least until Yuuko and Takeshi started dating. And then it became the two of them—and oh,

You know the triplets.

Three

The three of them were born in 2010. That was the year of the Olympics, and yes, I know you’re wondering what exactly you have to do with this, but hear me out!

While you were skating your way to gold, Yuuko was in labor. She was screaming, Vitya. She was screaming because she couldn’t see your free skate live, and it took hours for the triplets to be born, and—

Beyond their mother’s apparent love for our sport, have you ever wondered why they were named Axel, Lutz and Loop, anata?

In your Olympic free skate, you spontaneously managed a triple axel with a perfect +3 GOE. You also performed an amazing triple lutz-triple loop combination that Yuuko—we—couldn’t get over. She watched your programs the moment after she gave birth, you know. “The world has been blessed with my children and four-and-a-half minutes of unparalleled glory,” she said, and I wanted to try. I wanted to try so hard that—

Four

Vicchan was four when I decided to leave for Detroit. Minako pushed me to go when she realized that I couldn’t train quads with the local coaches near home. They never competed internationally. They wouldn’t know. I needed a proper coach—how else was I going to be able to reach you, Vitya? Celestino was more than a decent coach, and I knew that. But.

Do you know what it’s like to leave everything you knew behind, Vitya? It was terrifying—and half the time, I was wondering if I could do it, if I was good enough, and I so very much wanted to be because I loved the ice and though it wasn’t the same way as I do now, I loved you, Victor. I love you still and always will.

I loved Vicchan too. And that was the last time I saw him beyond the pictures and the videos that my family would send me over the years.

Years.

Five

I didn’t see my family for five years, Vitya, but I tried to convince myself that it was fine. I left to learn, to be better, and my efforts were finally paying off—I qualified for the Grand Prix Final. I finally got to compete against you! I was so excited (and nervous)—I wanted to talk to you, and I hoped that you would see me. (Acknowledge me.) I wanted so much for my dreams to come true and—

Oh, Vicchan died.

Vicchan died, Vitya.

Six

I fell to sixth place—I was last after a disastrous free skate where I popped all but one of my jumps because I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there, Vitya.

I failed.

So I wallowed. I hid myself in a bathroom stall to cry because:

What was the point of those five years? Why did I leave my family and get my hopes up—and get their hopes up—when I should have realized that seventeen years of skating (of doing something that I once loved) aren’t enough to change the hundreds of voices screaming in my head?

(And the thousands of voices yelling at me to retire because they thought I wasn’t good enough)

Then there you were.

Victor Nikiforov.

First place. Gold medalist. You were wearing a red and white Russian team tracksuit when you passed by me.

You said my name.

But oh—you weren’t talking to me, obviously. Yuri Plisetsky.

He screamed at me in the bathroom. Have I ever told you that?

How embarrassing.

You asked if I wanted a commemorative photo. Did you think I was a fan, Vitya? Or did you actually think that I wanted to commemorate a performance so terrible? (Yours was, without a doubt, amazing and ethereal, but I scored a hundred points lower than you, or maybe you didn’t know—you probably didn’t know.)

And that was okay. (No, it wasn’t.)

But it hurt. It hurt so much, Vitya.

I wanted to stop. I didn’t want to see you—not just you, but all of you—

Seven

The banquet started at seven that evening. I arrived half an hour later, not that anyone noticed—nor should they have. Celestino was the only reason I was there. You were talking to sponsors, Vitya.

Another half-hour later and I had already downed eight flutes of champagne. My memory was hazy at this point, Vitya, so forgive me, but the last thing that I remember was you watching me. I thought you must have found me disgusting—getting drunk at an ISU-sanctioned event?

What a joke.

But.

But you told me that was the best night of your life. I can barely recall anything from that night, anata, but I’ll take your word for it. I had another eight flutes of champagne, I think. I lost count after that.

What did you say happened, Vitya?

Oh, yes, the dancing. Did I dance the flamenco with you, my love? How many turns did we have? Are you sure I did that, Vitya? Did I really challenge Yura? Twice? I won, right? You want me to pole-dance again, don’t you?

(You once mentioned how empty you felt before that, and I—I didn’t know that gold could be so suffocating. I didn’t know that the top could feel so lonely.

I’ll dance for you—with you—anytime you want. Whatever makes you happy, Vitya.

After all, you’ve made me happier than words could ever express.)

Eight

… Did you really watch that video eight times, Victor?

You came barging into my life on April. It was snowing that day. (Snow in April, Vitya? Does the ice really love you so much?)

It was four months since I last saw you, and you have to consider the fact I didn’t—and I still don’t—remember the banquet. It was a shock to the senses to see you.

Because there you were. Naked. Standing in all your bare-faced glory. Proclaiming that you were going to be my coach.

You didn’t know what you were getting into.

Eros and Agape and all that was in-between.

Did you actually think I wanted you to be anyone other than who you truly are? You are Victor Nikiforov, and you are mine. I have stolen you from the world. You are Victor. You are Vitya. You are—

—you are the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to.

You were laughing, I was laughing, and Yura was laughing; the three of us painted the night sky with sparklers and the souls that we bared out to the world.

But still, you didn’t know what you were getting into.

There were eight minutes and forty-three seconds left until my free skate, and you stood there in front of me in the wide empty space of a parking lot. You made me cry. Stupid, Vitya. You don’t tell people that you’re going to leave them when they’re having anxiety attacks. You stay by them. You stay by their side, and trust me when I say that that alone is enough.

You are enough.

Nine

You were more than enough, and you deserved so much more than just a dime-a-dozen skater. You deserved more than coaching someone with a measly 97.83 for their short program score—you deserved gold and not a fourth place start in the Grand Prix Final.

You deserved more than the nine chimes of church bells ringing in Barcelona and the two shaky hands that pushed a single gold ring onto your finger, like you were theirs to claim. You deserved, you deserved—

And yet, you were happy.

And yet, you wanted to stay.

You still wanted silver (not gold) Katsuki Yuuri. You still wanted me.

Ten

And this is the moment where I realize:

You love me, and you are happy with second place, and there are less than three weeks left until Japanese Nationals (and Russian Nationals, Vitya), and you’re drilling my quad flip, and you kiss me five times when I fall, and you have to practice too—it’s been over six months since you’ve last competed, Vitya, and we’ll just be apart for seven days, anata, and it takes eight seconds for you to spot me in the airport when I return, and I’ve discovered that you have exactly nine moles spread across your body that night, and—

Victor.

Life is defined by an innumerable amount of moments in time, Vitya, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of mine with you.

#yuri on ice #yoi #katsuki yuuri #victor nikiforov #victuuri #fanfic #fanfiction #second person pov #first person pov #experimental pov

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