#yuuri is gonna have to step up and catch up when he gets tired of the glass closet

[miss-choco-chips]

I love that in canon the reason Yuuri slapped Wolfram instead of punching him is because he's so pretty, and so Wolfram's beauty is what inadvertently got them engaged.

But I love the headcanon that the Maou, this ancient being inside Yuuri who knows all the traditions, and a brat tamer by nature, saw this incomprehensibly beautiful brat getting on Yuuri's nerves and decided to make it their problem, forever.

So basically that when Yuuri slapped Wolfram it was also a bit on the Maou, who wanted that twink obliterated by them, personally, sometime on the future, and was just planning ahead.

[oh-look-isa-weeb]

Fly Me to the Moon

Yuri Plisetsky

Celestial beings + royalty AU. You're the Night. He's the Moon. You're stuck together, whether you like it or not.

Notes: A longer post this time! I could have gone with a normal royalty AU but nooo, of course I didn't. I hope this turned out okay! Title is from a Frank Sinatra song of the same name. 

---------------

The Day is the bringer of the Sun; It surrounds it, and it holds the Sun up, just as the Sun brings the Day with it wherever it goes. They move and work together.

The Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is the contrast which allows the Moon to shine brighter, stretching endlessly behind the Moon, the herald to its beauty and grace.

You are the Heir of the Night, training tirelessly to prepare to take on the mantle of the Moon's Guardian, and you are tired.

No, seriously. If you have to hear about the union of the Sun and the Moon one more time, you're going to scream. You mutter exactly that to yourself, under your breath, as you walk through the training facility to your studio. To your surprise, someone replies.

"I know, right? It's gross. If I ever fall in love, hit me."

Who in the world…?

You spin around, coming face-to-face with sea green eyes and golden hair. The same eyes hair you would one day be sworn to protect. Before you stood Yuri Plisetsky, the Heir of the Moon. He didn't know who you were, but you certainly recognised him. After all, you'd been watching his progress since you were selected to become the Heir of the Night. Your life's work would be dedicated to his being.

Only after a split-second did he seem to realise that he had talked to another being, and that he was decidedly not alone. He spun around, glaring.

"Who are you? The hell are you doing here?"

I'm the only one allowed around here, you thought amusedly. You're the trespasser. You wondered if you could tell him that. Heck, what was stopping you? It would be nice to see the look on his face. 

"As a matter of fact, I'm the Heir of the Night. Also known as the person who'll be working with you closely for the entirety of your reign." You pause and shoot him a pointed look. "And the only person allowed in here, Mr. Trespassing Heir of the Moon."

Ah, the sweet satisfaction of watching someone's brain shut down. He sputters for a bit and turns ever-so-slightly pink, scrambling to come up with an excuse.

"If we're gonna work together, w- what's wrong with me being here anyway? I- It's not like I'm not some random civilian!" 

He pauses, and an oddly aged look crosses his features.

"I just- I needed somewhere to get away for a minute, okay? I would very much like to be able to breathe without those two advertising their relationship. And I don't want to go for class," He sighs. "I'll just go now."

Something about the way he says it resonates with you. Maybe it's the resigned tone in his voice, or the weary look on his face. And you understand, you really do. After all, you've been preparing to take up an equally important -- and equally heavy role. Sometimes you wanted an escape, too.

"Do you… Want to stay? And watch for a bit?"

He pauses and turns to look at you. He's trying to act nonchalant, shrugging casually with a "Sure,", but you see the way his shoulders sag a little, as if the tension was released, and his features smoothen out just a fraction. You tell him to make himself comfortable along the sides somewhere and begin running through your combat drills.

As it turns out, Yuri is a pretty courteous audience. He doesn't ask too many questions, and only does when you stop for breaks. At the end of your training session, you sit together, backs to the wall, and bask in companionable silence, taking a breather from the stress that your roles bring you. Finally, you prepare to leave the studio, locking up and exchanging farewells.

"Hey, uh, thanks for letting me stay. I think I needed that. I'll, uh, see you around. I hope."

"Well, we'll meet again eventually. Moon and Night and all that. Feel free to come back anytime, though."

He heads off in the other direction, waving as he walks away. 

You don't see him for a good month.

You don't know why. Did he get in trouble? Did he not want to return? Was he doing alright?

You'd just about given up seeing him until coronation day ever again, until one day you open the door to the studio to find it already unlocked.  You open the door anyway, paying it no mind, and promptly walk face first into something. Someone.

Yuri.

He grumbles about getting crashed into, mumbling a "Watch where you're going, moron" under his breath quietly, but he steps aside to let you in anyway. How did he get in? No, nevermind that, Lilia was coming in today. He shouldn't be here.

"My advisor's coming today. You should get out before you get caught."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"Moron, did no one tell you? I bargained with Yakov. You're gonna teach me to fight, and I'll, well, they'll find something for me to teach you. Anyway, I'm meant to be here, stupid."

You gape at him as Lilia strides past you two and into the studio, thoroughly unimpressed at your expression. She tells you to "close your mouth, you are an Heir, not a fish", and she "certainly did not teach you to dawdle in doorways". You put your stuff down, but you have no clue where to begin. Teach someone? 

Lilia sighs. "The basics, girl, unless you want him to spend more time on his butt than his feet."

Right, you feel like an idiot now. Please let there be a hole to swallow you up. You gesture for Yuri to join you in the centre of the room, and slowly run him through warm-ups.

Over time, you fall into a routine. Some weeks, you teach Yuri to fight, and other weeks, he teaches you dance. Not just waltz, you know how to do that, but other forms of dance. Ballet. Tango. Flamenco. The macarena, because why not, although that was mostly a joke. You meet Yakov, his advisor, as well and the current Sun and Moon, Yuuri and Victor. Most importantly, you meet his cat, and his grandfather. Victor says it's wonderful that Yuri's friends with you. Yuri says he's too nosy.

As the time passes, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You realise that he's actually a kind person, even if he doesn't outwardly show it. And one day, you catch yourself thinking, he's really pretty.

When did you fall for him? You don't know. But as soon as you realise, you never stop realising. You're hyper-aware of everything he does. It frustrates you to no end. You're in the middle of a foxtrot with Yuri, and you can feel yourself flushing wildly. He frowns at you and stops.

"What's up with you? Why've you been so jumpy these days?" He presses a hand to your forehead. "Tch. You're not sick, are you?" You shake your head, but you can't quite meet his eyes.

Because the heat from your cheeks seems to have somehow fried your brain cells, you decide to throw all caution to the wind. You might also be too sleep-deprived to regret this.

"I- I LIKE YOU!" You blurt, before your common sense finally catches up to you and you clap a hand to your mouth. "Ah, sorry, you uh, heard nothing… Ahah…"

He gapes at you, and then he averts his eyes. Great, he totally thinks you're a weirdo. You've just messed up your relationship with the guy you're stuck working with for your entire career.

"I like you too, moron." It's so quiet you could swear you imagined it, but Yuri stands across from you, eyes on the ground, face as flushed as yours. It's your turn to gape at him, as he bites out a "What? Quit staring at me!", although you can tell there's no real heat to his words. 

"I'm glad," you hum, smiling gently as you extend a hand to him, a silent invitation to resume dancing. You let the music wash over you, losing yourself in the steps, and every time your eyes meet, there's a soft smile on his face.

Epilogue

You take your place on the dais next to Yuri, preparing to face the court for your coronation. You'd been there for him before this, through demanding days and insecurities. You'd seen him at his worst, in the days just after Victor announced he was stepping down as the Moon, helping him to fight off his self-doubt. You'd been there for Yuri, and as the new Night and Moon, you'll continue being by his side. As his guardian, but also as his betrothed.

Over the next week, there are ceremonies and festivities, including your wedding, which takes place on the last day. It's a whirlwind of crowds, carnivals, and dancing. You and Yuri have your first dance, the same foxtrot you had been dancing when you got together all those years ago, the same soft smile ever-present on his face, as if it's just you two in the ballroom, like it was back then.

Then the music changes to something more bold, and you charge at each other in a mock-battle, your movements dynamic and explosive, yet graceful, a testament to your proficiency in both combat and dance.

As the night progresses, your friends and family join you on the dance floor, laughing and mingling. There's not much actual dancing happening, but that's perfectly fine, because you're surrounded by loved ones. Someone starts a line dance at some point, and you get everyone who joins to do the macarena, just for laughs. You see Lilia rolling her eyes, but you laugh and pull her into the crowd to join you.

And at the end of the night, you're in the comfort of your room, Yuri by your side. He pulls you in for a sweet, languid kiss. This is the love of your life, the man you'll wake up next to every day for the rest of your life.

After all, the Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is by its side, always. It is the Moon's refuge, its home. It loves the Moon dearly, and the Moon loves it back.

[kasumi-chou]

Your SND/SIT AU is super cute~ Has Victor ever dragged his little family on a spa day? How did Yura react to knowing you could paint your nails? I bet he wanted tiger stripes on his nails hahaha

Manicure

“We should go away for theweekend.”

Yuuri hummed at Victor’ssuggested as he sunk a little deeper into the bath. It was only Wednesday andhe was ready for his rest day. But thankful, Victor had seemed to pick up onhis tired mood and run them both a lovely bubble bath to share.

Helet out a soft moan as he felt Victor’s fingers slip into his hair, slowly beginningto massage shampoo into his hair.

“Thereis this spa resort a few towns over. It does lovely massages and mud baths. Oh,they even let children into the,” Victor said a work that he didn’t know,causing him to tilt his head back to look up at his fiancé. He repeated theword slowly, earning a chuckle from Victor.

“Facility,”Victor said in accented English, causing him to nod, “So, we can take Yurochka.”

Victor smiled down at him for a momentbefore flicking bubbles into his face. He gasped at the attack by his fiancé beforepulling away from his fiancé.

“No,” Victor whined, pulling him back down,causing water to rock back and forth at the sudden action.

“Stay there,” Victor commanded beforereturning to washing his hair. He huffed as he wiped away the bubble attackbefore letting his eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of Victor’s handsrunning through his hair.

“So, what do you think?” Victor asked whilegently pouring water over his head, washing the shampoo out.

“You’d have to ask Madam Baranovskaya foran extra day off,” he pointed out, causing Victor to let out a whine.

“Why Lilia? Why can’t I ask Minako?” Victorwhined. He chuckled as he carefully turned around, trying not to splash toomuch water out of the bath as he did so. He smiled up at Victor when they werefinally facing each other.

“Minako-sensei isn’t in charge of mytraining this week,” he told Victor.

Victor stared at him for a moment beforesighing dramatically before leaning forwards to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Fine, I suppose.” He chuckled softly athis fiancé before closing his eyes, simply relaxing against his fiancé chestfor a moment.

“So, spa weekend?” Victor confirmed,fingers tracing up and down his spine.

“Yes. Spa weekend,” he confirmed, smilingto himself as Victor pressed another kiss against the crown of his head beforebursting into excited chatter that he was too tired to keep up with. He let thesound of his fiancé talking lull him into a light snooze as he enjoyed theirshared bath.

“Papa.”

“Yes?”

“Are we there yet?”

“I don’t know.”

Victor couldn’t help but chuckle to himselfas he glanced into the rear-view mirror, catching sight of the adorable pout plasteredon Yuri’s lips.

“Vicchan,” the boy called out to him, catchinghis gaze in the mirror.

“Yes?” he questioned, smiling at the boy.

“Are we there yet?” Yuri questioned.

“I don’t know,” he replied, earning a groanof displeasure from the boy.

“Vicchan!” Yuri whined, pouting even moredramatically at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, turning hisattention back to the road in front of him. “Do you see the big house to ourright?” he questioned.

“Yes,” Yuri huffed.

“That is it,” he told the boy. The backseatwas quiet for a moment before there was a gasp of delight.

“Really?” Yuri questioned in excitement. Hesmiled as he turned into the drive way, driving the car all the way up until hestopped right outside the front entry. Almost as soon as he turned the car off,a valet appeared, opening the car door for him.

“Good morning sir.” He smiled at the valet,handing the keys of his pink Cadillac while moving to the back of his beloved pinkCadillac – something that Yuuri had called over the top the first time he hadshown his than boyfriend the car – to start getting all the luggage out whileYuuri helped their little hellcat out of the car.

“I’ve got that, sir.” A man interrupted him,beginning to remove their luggage from the back of the car from him. He stoodthere a moment, making sure that no damage was done to his car or their luggagebefore turning to check up on his little family.

“Papa, no!” Yuri’s voice called out,catching his attention. He smiled as he glanced over to see Yuuri offering topick up the boy while Yuri shook his head in denial.

He had noticed recently how their little guyhad begun getting disgruntled whenever he was being carried around – at leastwhen it wasn’t bed time. He couldn’t blame the boy from getting upset. He wassix after all, they really shouldn’t be carrying him around - but Yuri was justso small and cute.

“Fine, but you have to hold Vicchan or myhand,” Yuuri told the boy, holding out his hand. Yuri stared at his father fora moment before glancing towards him. After a moment, Yuri took his father’shand, sticking a tongue out in his direction.

“Yurio,” he gasped, clutching his chest, “Youwound me.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes while holding out hisother hand towards him. He smiled as he took it, lacing their fingers together.

“This way,” he said, pulling his Yu(u)ri’stowards the entry of the spa.

“What are they doing?” Yuri mumbled curiously,trying to peak over the edge of the table to see what the manicurist cleaningVictor’s nails was doing.

“She giving me a,” Victor said, finishingthe sentence with another word he wasn’t familiar with. He repeated the word tohimself.

“Manicure,” the manicurist repeated inEnglish. He smiled at her, not bothering to inform her that he was aware ofwhat she was doing, just hadn’t been aware of the word in Russian.

It was strange, it had been a while sincehe hadn’t known a word in Russian, and now within less than a week, he hadlearned two new ones. He might have to organise a coffee date with Dina to makesure his Russian was still up to standard.

“Manicure?” Yuri repeated slowly.

“She’s cleaning Vicchan’s nails and thenshe will make them pretty,” he told Yuri while holding his arms out for theboy, offering to hold him up to get a better look. Yuri eyed his arms for amoment before stepping into them. He smiled as he scooped up the boy, givinghim a better view of the table.

“What colour should I get my nails painted,Yurochka?” Victor questioned, catching the boy attention.

“Colour?” Yuri questioned curiously. Hechuckled as the manicurist pointed behind them where the wall was lined with hundredsof nail polish bottles – organise first by brand and then by colour.

“Why don’t we go pick some colours forVicchan while the nice lady cleans Vicchan’s nails?” he offered, earning a nodfrom the boy immediately.

He walked towards the wall of nail polishbefore slowly starting to look through all the colours. After a moment, heshifting Yuri in his arms so he could reach out and grab a hot pink colour.

“What about this one?” he asked, shakingthe bottle before handing it to the boy. Yuri took the bottle of nail polish,looking at it for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. Vicchan should get gold!” Yuri toldhim with a serious look.

“The nice lady can do lots of prettycolours, we don’t have to pick just one,” he told the boy, biting back achuckle at the look of wonder that went across the boy’s face.

“Really?” Yuri questioned, glancing overhis shoulder towards Victor.

“I bet if you asked, she could even drawsome pretty pictures,” he whispered to the boy, earning a gasp.

“Can she do my nails too!” Yuri questioned,turning to look at him with an excited look, “I want tiger stripes!”

“How about we pick some colours out forVicchan and then we can ask?” he suggested. Yuri started to wiggle in his gaspuntil he gently set the boy on his feet. Yuri hurried to the other end of thewall, starting to look through the colour at that end.

After five minutes, they settled on a nicegold – that Yuri wanted Victor to wear – and a nice metallic pink – that hewanted Victor to wear, it also helped that it matched the gold that Yuripicked.

Victor seemed delighted with the colours,thanking Yuri for picking them out for him. The boy smiled in delight beforeturning towards the manicurist with a serious look on his face.

“Excuse me,” Yuri mumbled.

“Yes?” the manicurist replied.

“Can you do my nails after Vicchan’s?” Yuriquestioned, “I want tiger strips.”

The manicurist stared at the boy for a momentbefore nodding her head, smiling brightly at Yuri. Yuri cheered in delight,turning to them with a bright smile.

“I’m gonna get tiger stripes!” Yuri toldthem in excitement.

“He is going to starve to death.”

Victor whined dramatically as they sat inthe dining hall, large plates of food spread out in front of them. He raised aneyebrow towards his fiancé who was staring at Yuri was a worried look on hisface.

He sighed as he turned to the boy who wasstaring down at his nails with a look of fascination on his face – a look thathadn’t faded since the manicurist had finished doing the boys tiger strips.

“Yurochka,” he called out, “Eat yourdinner.”

“But papa,” Yuri gasped in horror, “I mightruin the strips.”

“No, you won’t,” he ensured the boy.

“Papa,” Yuri huffed, “The lady said that Ihad to be carefully or I’ll ruin them.”

“She meant while they dried, Yurochka,there are very much dry,” Victor ensured the boy, who huffed at them.

“Not going to ruin them,” Yuri huffed,turning in his chair to look away from them.

He turned to Victor with a defeated look onhis face.

“Yurochka,” Victor called out to the boy, “Ifyou ruin them, we will just have to get you more tiger strips.”

Yuri paused before slowly turning back tothem.

“Really?” Yuri questioned, eyeing themclosely.

“Yep! Maybe next time we will get leopardspots instead,” Victor suggested, earning a gasp of delight from thesix-year-old.

He sighed and shook his head, wonderingwhat trouble they had gotten themselves into by allowing Yuri to get amanicure.

Skater Next Door AU

AO3 Skater Next Door / Skater In Training

[onceabluemoonwrites]

Elven Oath

Fandom: Yuri on Ice

Summary:  The first time Minami sees the Spring God, he is decidedly unimpressed. But with every step Yuuri takes, flowers bloom, and slowly, slowly, awe begins to spill from Minami’s soul until he is a flowing river of happiness, ooh-ing and aah-ing over each newborn flower. Lohengrin, Minami wants to belong to Yuuri’s court.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr   (my other entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

You can find my writing progress here.  If you can’t keep straight who’s what anymore, here’s a list, plus some extra background information for those who’d like to read it!

My fic master list here.

This was written for the Yuri on Ice Fantasy week ( @yoifantasyweek for those interested in checking out the other authors) 11/14/17- yoifantasyweek Day Two: Yellow. I used all three prompts: ‘’Elf’’, ‘’Sunflower,’’ and ‘’’Happiness’’. 

This is part of the Land of Gods and Monsters ‘verse, but can be read as a standalone fic.  You can find a note on the chronology of this ‘verse here.

Sunbeams trail over the forest floor, dew drops gleaming in the first light of day. Flowers curl open, petals unfurling.

Minami rolls out of his comfortable flower cradle, opens his eyes mid-flight and screams.

No, not the usual ‘’Goodmoooooooooooooorning!’’ – indeed, what leaves his mouth is a terrified scream of the likes you’ve scarcely heard. 

Ouch. Dust-speckled and limbs aching, Minami picks himself up and comes face to face with- a foot?

Big folk dancing in the Fairy Meadow? Minami clenches his teeth.

He shakes a fist at it, craning his neck to see more. ‘’Hey, bigfoot! I oughta teach you a lesson!’’

The foot disappears behind two knees carefully lowered to the ground. It results in a thwack hard enough to make Minami stumble, and oh, by Lohengrin! The God’s face is so close! Minami eyes him nervously. He’s the size of the giant’s nose, and he has never wished more he wasn’t an elf anymore!  Oh, if he hadn’t been so foolish and chosen a court already, he could’ve fled from this enormous God with his monstrously big mouth!

But Minami has no wings, so this is it. He swallows, heart pounding. ‘’I’m not afraid of you!’’ He squeaks, jabbing a finger toward the eye, jumping up and down.

‘’I apologize,’’ The vibrations knock Minami off his feet.

He bristles. ‘’You’re gonna have to do better than that, buddy!’’ He sizes him up, jumping from one leg to the other, fists raised. ‘’Come at me, bro!’’

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have imitated the Fairy Queen, but this God is clearly out of line and Minami is putting him back in his place! Atta, boy!

The God flinches, drawing back a few meters- considerable length for someone who is only five centimetres tall. ‘’Hah, saving your own skin!’’

The God blinks. ‘’I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yuuri, the Spring God. I came to pay my respects to Mila.’’

Minami’s mouth drops. ‘’You’re the one she’s always going on about?’’ Yuuri turns beet red. Minami flails. ‘’You’re not nearly cool enough to have my Fairy Queen in your court!’’

Yuuri’s eyes widen. ‘’No, no, no! Mila’s part of my mother’s court!’’

‘’Then you’re an imposter!’’

‘’No, I’m not!’’

‘’Yes, you are! And even if you were who you say you are, you’d still be my rival!’’

‘’What?!’’

Minami crosses his arms as the God splutters. This, the Spring God? Ha!

They’ll see about that!

‘’How dare you return here, you fiend! I shall slay you!’’ Minami growls.

Yuuri takes one look at him, gasps and flees.

…Towards the main village, but that’s not the point.

His grass halm armour totally scared his rival!

‘’Kenjirou, what did you do now?’’

Minami looks up from his berry staple. ‘’Mila! I expelled the imposter with my fearsome growl!’’

His Queen blinks and bursts out in laughter. ‘’He was worried about you because of your hornbill cry.’’

‘’My lion roar!’’ Minami stomps his foot.

She pats him on the head, wiping away a tear. ‘’Yes, yes, hold on to your dreams, little elf.’’

His shoulders hunch as she flies away. ‘’This is all your fault, stupid Yuuri. I’ll get you, just you wait!’’

Pelting berries at the God is great stress relief, even if it doesn’t accomplish anything. But then again, the red stains will be a pain to wash out! 

Minami grins. He’s a great rival!

Yuuri comes by once a week and Minami’s getting tired.

Lying on the edge of his flower cradle, he eyes the God as he tip-toes past as not to disturb the other elves.

Hey- that’s funny!

Minami gets onto his hands and knees and leans over the yellow petals. There! Where Yuuri’s feet touch the ground, flowers sprout!

Clambering down the stem, he runs towards the footprints.

Bluebells, daffodils, even a few dahlias! Minami gasps in delight. There are even sunflowers! Dancing around the footprint flowers, he cheers. He has the best eternal rival ever!

He stops dead in his tracks, nose to nose with the place where blue flowers must’ve peeked out between Yuuri’s toes, the first to be born.

Yuuri is his eternal rival. He isn’t supposed to be cool.

What now?

‘’Why don’t you play with me anymore?’’ a voice comes from above.

Minami crosses his arms. ‘’I didn’t play with you! We fought!’’

‘’Oh…’’  

…Why does Yuuri’s wince make him feel so guilty? Minami chews on the inside of his cheek.

Sunflowers wave in the wind above his flower cradle, and it’s like their colours are tattoed on the inside of his eyes. Even when he sleeps he gets no rest. Is this what wretchedness feels like?

It tastes like bile in his mouth.

Minami tries hard, but with every step Yuuri takes, flowers bloom, and slowly, slowly, awe begins to spill from Minami’s soul until he is a flowing river of happiness, ooh-ing and aah-ing over each newborn flower.

No God’s gonna make a fool out of him, but Lohengrin, Minami wants to belong to Yuuri’s court. His heart screams: Take me, I’m the best elf they’ve got! 

…But surely Yuuri has gotten offers before. What if his fairies don’t like him? What if Yuuri doesn’t like Minami?!

Minami’s pretty sure he botched that up early in the game. He swallows and stands up with dread-filled legs. No- stop with the heavy boots. He could do this! He can… He can!

‘’HEY, YOU!’’

Okay, not the best opening, but Minami once said: ‘’Is that a wart or a whisker?’’ to a kitsune and survived, so this is definitely an improvement.

Yuuri blinks. It looks strange, now Minami’s on eye-height. ‘’How did you get up there?’’

Minami puffs his chest out. ‘’I climbed!’’

‘’…How do you plan on getting down?’’

‘’Climb-‘’ Minami sees the depth beneath him, flails and- Yuuri catches him in the palm of his hand.

‘’Careful!’’

Minami pouts. ‘’See, if you’d make me part of your court, you wouldn’t need to rescue me! I’d be able to fly all on my own!’’

‘’What?’’

The elf turns beet red, pushing his fingers together. ‘’Part… of your court.’’  He flaps with his arms. ‘’So I could fly and all! And help you carry out your duties. And look at the sunflowers ‘cause they’re so pretty and…’’

Yuuri’s poppy cheeks are the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Whoever is cooing out there, Minami certainly agrees with them! Wait- there is no one else here. By Ortrud! The elf slaps his hands in front of his mouth, attempting to wrestle the sound back in.

Yuuri bites his lip. ‘’I don’t have a court, but if you’d like to be the first, you can!’’

Minami’s jaw drops. ‘’But… How do people not fall to their knees and beg you to enter your court? I mean, that was my plan B! I had a plan C too, which consisted of crying a lot and telling Mila I was going to be a child forever because I only wanted the coolest God. I’d be Peter Pan, can you imagine?!’’

Yuuri’s flush creeps down his neck. He opens his mouth, but Minami is on a roll and no stop signs are going to halt him. ‘’Wait- you want me as your Fairy Queen?!’’

The Spring God nods. ‘’If you please.’’

‘’Oh, I’m pleased, alright!’’ Minami chirps, patting Yuuri’s thumb. ‘’Lemme get up there and give you a smooch on the forehead!’’

And that he does.

Magic transfers better via skin to skin contact, and there is no greater place to kiss than the third eye. Yuuri smiles as the elf huffs and puffs. Kissing his index finger, he places it carefully on Minami’s forehead.

It tickles- laughter bubbles up in Minami’s throat as the magic rushes through him. It’s a wild river, splashing everywhere, wetting his skin and dripping along his throat and his back, until the water freezes, wing-shaped. Fragile, swan-feathered and red.

‘’They’re so beautiful,’’ the awe is clearly audible.

Minami is an adult now. ‘’Yahoooooooooooo!’’ He shoots up into the air, buzzing in circles around Yuuri’s head. ‘’Yuuri, look! I’m a fairy! A real fairy!’’

Yuuri laughs, voice vibrating through the air, but Minami stays where he is, wings easily steering against the current. ‘’A real Fairy Queen!’’

Minami slaps his cheeks, kicking in the air. ‘’Oh, I’m gonna leave the village! I’m the first part of your court! Waaaaaaah! Mila’s not gonna believe it! Ha! Sara’s not gonna believe it! I’m a Fairy Queen, Yuuri, your Fairy Queen!’’

‘’The best one a God could have.’’

Minami will die from Yuuri’s awesome levels one of these days! But first… First, he has a court to make!

Author’s Note

Minami is a precious cinnamon roll, protect him. 

The songs I listened to while writing this:

Minami’s music box.

Lohengrin prelude.

The outcry ‘’Lohengrin!’’ must’ve been pretty obvious, but ‘’Ortrud’’ is the antagonist from the same opera. For those not familiar with the opera, Minami’s wings being ‘’swan-feathered’’ is also a reference. At the end of the opera, the swan that was constantly present turned out to be a cursed man. In this case it is no curse, but I thought it’d be fun to keep a bit of a theme! *grins*

[undadasea]

Yuuri and Phichit in Detroit #2

I never was too good at / following the rules, nah, nah / I'm better off pretending / I was the fool

Yuuri dragged Phichit up from the couch as the song hit it's chorus for the second time.

Hear me out / all day, all night / I've got the lights in my eyes / and I'm falling for ya

"Yuuri!" Phichit yelped with a laugh as he was dragged around their little apartment until Yuuri found an empty enough spot for them to dance, then he pulled his friend into a messy dance around their living room that Minako would gawk at in horror.

As the song wound down, Yuuri stepped back from him with an evil smirk on his lips.

"What was that for?" Phichit laughed, leaning down to make a show of panting. Yuuri simply shrugged. "I felt restless. I always do on rest days. I needed to get up and move, and so did you. So I got us up, and we moved. You can return to social media now."

"Ha!" Phichit grabbed Yuuri's arm as he made to move past him. "I don't think so!" A strong bass struck through the room from the stereo. "Your turn to dance with me."

First things first / I'mma say all the words inside my head / I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been

They swayed a bit and danced as if the song were a waltz until Phichit's favourite part hit.

My love, my love, my drive / it came from / Pain

The younger roommate deciding that this was a perfect point in which to drop dramatically to one knee while dabbing. Yuuri just laughed at him as he pulled him up to continue dancing.

Both of them sung at the top of their lungs, flapping limbs ungracefully at each point in the song. When the line hit for the last time, Yuuri joined Phichit in the dramatic dab before they both laid down on the floor to catch their breath.

They had just sat up when another song began.

Stand up, everybody look alive / say come on, come on, come on / we're gonna get it now

Phichit was the first up, singing directly at Yuuri after moving hisolder friend to sit on the couch. He was all smiles and giggles before his gray eyes flashed with a deeper emotion than the softness usually in them, and Yuuri focused on the lyrics his friend sang.

It's not enough to be better than the rest / gotta take it to the top / and make yourself a superstar / you don't need them to believe in you / get your mission on lock and see it through / you've got all the power you need in you / power you need in you / power you need in you

Phichit even sang the opera-sounding bit, his voice melodic in a way few new of.

We can change the whole world / gonna take it over / gonna start it over/ don't you know that we could be / a new beginning / fight until we're winning / don't you wanna be / a superhero / superhero...

He finished the song drapped over Yuuri's lap, grinning up at him like an idiot. "Don't you, Yuuri?" He asked.

"Always." A tear fell onto Phichit's cheek, and Yuuri realized he was crying.

"Aw!" Phichit shouted, reaching up to hug him. "Don't cry Yuuri!"

"You meant those words in the song, didn't you?" Sniffed Yuuri.

"Every single one."

Yuuri had never been a hugger, but he squeezed Phichit tight. Then, an idea struck him. Yuuri nudged Phichit off and wiped away his tears, moving over to his ipod that was blasting San Fermin's "Jackrabbit" and scrolling through until he found the song he was looking for. He stopped the current song, moved back over to Phichit to make sure he was sitting and paying attention before moving back across to his ipod.

He let his thumb hover over the play button, steeling himself to speak first. This is Phichit, he reminded himself. He is your best friend and your biggest support. You can talk to him. "Okay, okay. So, this may be a bit cliche but whenever I hear this song, I don't think of myself, I think of you. It fits you better, anyway. SO pay attention to the lyrics, okay?" At Phichit's nod, Yuuri hit play.

Yeah you can be the greatest / you can be the best / you can be the king kong banging on his chest

Phichit's eyes grew wide as realization dawned.

Yuuri sang on as he went over and sat on Phichit's lap.

Dedicate yourself and you can find yourself / standing in the hall of fame / and the world's gonna know name / cause you burn with the brightest flame / and the world's gonna know your name / and you’ll be on the walls of the hall of fame

Honestly, Yuuri had been planning to sing this song to Phichit for along time. He knew how hard his friend had worked to get even where he was, and how hard he had worked to make it to the Grand Prix, only to fall a few points short while his friend succeeded. Phichit had been trying his best for years, for a much bigger purpose than Yuuri ever had.

He wasn't selfish like most skaters. It wasn't himself he was skating for, it was his whole country. All of Thailand had put their hopes in him, and he had been devastated when he didn't make it through, for all the smiles he had given Yuuri he had more tears.

So this, Yuuri figured, was the best he could do. He had never been good at supporting people, but for Phichit he would try.

Yeah, do it for your people / do it for your pride / you're never gonna know if you never even try / do it for your country / do it for your name / cause there's gonna be a day / where your standing in the hall of fame

It was Phichit's turn for the tears to flow freely. He raised a hand to his mouth, covering his smile. As bad as Yuuri was, Phichit was even worse when it came to letting people see him cry. He always portrayed himself as upbeat, joyous, unafraid. Yuuri knew this.

So he began the next part with a new fervor.

Be students, be teachers / be politicians, be preachers / yeah, yeah / be believers, be leaders / be astronauts, be champions, be truth seekers 

At the "be champions" part, Yuuri poked Phichit's nose with a bright grin. He stopped singing along after that chorus, opting instead to just hug his friend and let him run himself out of tears.

"Life itself" by Glass Animals played in the background as Yuuri moved them to a better position, sitting in their usual movie-watching sofa crease with Phichit laying on his chest. He pet the Thai skater's hair in the silence. It wasn't until halfway through the next song that Phichit raised his head and gave Yuuri a small smile. "You are amazing." He whispered.

"I try."

Phichit giggled gently and stood, pulling Yuuri to his feet. "Dance with me?" Yuuri smiled brightly. The song had changed once more, playing a slow love song. He knew that the romance part of it wasn't true to their relationship, but he felt that most of it fit their relationship well enough anyway. So he allowed Phichit to pull him up and into a slow dance that was little more than holding each other and swaying.

You're the reason that I live / so now all I've got to give / I give it to you / just don't fight the feeling

"Love you, Phi." Yuuri whispered as he hummed along.

"Love you too, Yuuri."

If both of their shirts were kind of wet at the end of the song, neither said a thing.

~*~*~

Don’t mind me I just love these two lots-

All of the songs; Lessons in Love (All day, all night) by Neon Trees Believer by Imagine Dragons Superhero by Simon Curtis Jackrabbit by San Fermin Hall of Fame by The Script Life Itself by Glass Animals It’s My Life by Bon Jovi My Heart Belongs to You by Hayley Westenra

Fun fact: I didn’t actually plan for this to get serious like this. It was meant to be a silly dance party. 100% the fault of that one line in Superhero. Hence the songs in here that I didn’t do the lyrics of.

[chazzfox]

When It’s Love: Chapt 6

I FEEL SO BAD FOR TAKING FOREVER. This chapter is really cute though? I mean...these two...haven’t figured it all out yet and there is difficulty, but until then....

The kissing didn't stop for a long time.

Eventually Otabek found both his arms wrapped tightly around Yuri. He was a comfortable weight who had settled completely on top of Otabek. Yuri's lips barely left his and when they did it was merely so one of them could kiss the corner of the other's mouth or nibble a bottom lip. The kissing had only deepened the longer it went on, Otabek's tongue sliding eagerly over Yuri's.

Otabek wasn't sure when or why they decided to cool it. Yuri had slid off of him partially but he tugged on Otabek to turn over with him. Otabek rolled and wrapped Yuri up in his arms once again, keeping him close as Yuri put an arm around him. He contemplated asking if this meant they were dating and having a full on emotional talk but decided against it. Instead he let sleep win out.

He woke up to Yuri laying on top of him. One arm was folded on Otabek's chest and Yuri rested his chin on it, while his other hand was stroking through Otabek's hair. His eyes were fixed on Otabek's face, something he realized slowly as he blinked himself awake. Yuri was warm against him. He was also the first thing Otabek saw upon waking, which was just perfect for him.

"Morning," Yuri said, still looking at him.

"Hey," Otabek replied, looking right back. His mouth was dry. He didn't know what to say now that his feelings were in the open. At least, they had to be. "Uh, sleep well?"

"Best I've ever slept." Yuri scooted himself up, kissed Otabek's lips, and it started all over again.

They made out for the better part of an hour, Otabek playing with his hair, rubbing his back, even daring to slide down and over the curves of his ass. He didn't know how acceptable that would be but when Yuri just giggled softly in his ear and kissed the edge of it, he knew it was okay.

Everything was okay.

"Mmm, maybe we should get up. What do you think?" Yuri asked Otabek, settling his head down on his chest finally.

Otabek laughed a little. "I don't know. You look like you're getting more comfortable so perhaps we should just stay here."

"Spend the day in bed?"

"If you want."

"That seems so lazy," Yuri said with a big sigh, but he still didn't show any sign of moving.

Otabek combed his fingers through his hair. Surely he would never grow tired of that. He wasn't yet out of his teens but that didn't matter. He knew he wouldn't get tired of Yuri. "Maybe we should be lazy. I'm on vacation, remember."

"As if I could forget." Yuri continued to stay there.

That was all well and good, but then Otabek remembered - the other two. If he and Yuri were cuddled up in there too long, one of the two was likely to come knocking on the door. Yuuri would knock politely, and Viktor would break down the door. And because of their current position, it would probably be the kind of thing where Makkachin would be with him and the damn dog would run in and jump on them.

His fingers stroked along Yuri's neck as he thought about how much he preferred cats.

"Ah, Yuri, I need to reach my phone."

"Check Instagram later," Yuri murmured. His voice was heavy with sleep; he was dozing off again. That was a lovely idea.

Otabek had one major issue with it though. "I need to piss too."

"Oh, really? Fiiiine." Yuri rolled off of Otabek, grumbling, and shoved at him. "Hurry the fuck up."

With a laugh Otabek hauled himself off the bed and strolled quickly to the bathroom. The faster he was, the sooner he could return to laying around with Yuri. It was a thrill, for him. He'd never ever so intimately laid with someone like that. It was a first with the cuddling, and certainly a first with the making out!

He splashed his face with cool water after using the toilet, thinking about it. He was certain Yuri had kissed no one else. Making out with him hadn't really felt sloppy or inexerienced. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. Could it be that they were just naturals?

Otabek dismissed that notion. He watched enough porn to know how to use his damn lips. Yuri may have. And it wasn't that hard to kiss someone, to taste their lips and slip his tongue in his mouth while squeezing his back.

A shiver ran through his body and he splashed his face again. Thinking about kissing led to thoughts of  sexual nature and he wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for that at all. Otabek fantasized, sure, but at the honest prospect of going out there and doing things to Yuri's body - nope. That he just wasn't ready for.

Let someone make fun of him if they found out. He didn't care. What mattered was that Yuri returned his feelings.

Or he appeaared to, anyway.

He shook his head and left the bathroom. Would they talk about it that morning? He wanted to but the words felt stuck. Upon leaving the bathroom and seeing Yuri laying on his side on the bed, head propped on  pillow and gaze casually following him, Otabek found it hard to swallow let alone speak.

"Hurry up!" Yuri growled.

"Charming." Otabek grabbed his phone on his way back to the bed and sat down on the edge of the bed at first. He brought up Viktor's IM window at first, thought for a second, and then went to Yuuri's. "I'm sending off a text so those two don't come barging in here." He felt a hand on his back, then fingertips trailing down. It made him shiver.

"Good idea."

Otabek decided to hurry up a little more. 'Don't come in. We're-' He paused. What should he say they were doing? Making out? No, that seemed like too much to say. Too private. 'We're spending time together.' There, that had to get the idea across. He sent it and then shifted further onto the bed. He was still sitting up, pillows against his back.

Yuri immediately adjusted himself. He raised himself up and pushed at Otabek's legs, immediately raising alarm for him. "Um what..."

"Don't get any ideas," Yuri said with a mocking cross look. He pushed Otabek's legs apart...only to plop himself between them, his back to Otabek's chest. "C'mon I found this funny cat video while you were in there. Have you EVER seen how far they jump when they run into an unplanned cuccumber? It's some of the funniest shit I've seen." He produced his phone from somewhere in the blankets and started to load up the video.

Otabek laughed, putting an arm around Yuri, his own phone still in his other hand. It vibrated, and he looked over at it to read the message. It was from Yuuri. His cheeks grew warm as he opened the message. 'FINALLY! ;)' was all it said. Otabek stared, then dropped the phone next to the pillows.

His other arm went around Yuri and he let his chin settle on the top of his head. The video was loaded. Otabek smiled as Yuri hit play.

Hunger finally made them leave the room, though it was difficult. Even with his stomach rumbling and despite Otabek's urging, Yuri insisted on lounging in bed. When Otabek's own stomach voiced its agreement, Yuri hauled them both up. They changed from their sleeping clothes into things they could at least be seen around the house in.

Otabek put on jeans and a white shirt with black paint-splatter type patterning across the shoulders. Nothing fancy. Yuri dressed down even further with loose black pants and a dark red and yellow plaid shirt that was a size too big for him draping off his thin frame. He looked damn good in it too.

"Do you think they even have food out for us?" Otabek asked, and Yuri shrugged.

"I've made my own snacks. It's after lunch which means we should have the kitchen to ourselves," Yuri informed him. He took Otabek's hand as they quietly made their way down the hallway. It was very quiet, and Otabek figured everyone was out and about for the day or possibly in the onsen.

Otabek merely nodded and let himself be led. Yuri knew what he was doing there, as he was more familiar with Yuuri's home. He didn't seem bothered letting himself into the kitchen and hunting about in the cupboards and the fridge. He finally produced some noodles, chicken, and veges. "Stir-fry?" Otabek asked.

"You got it." Yuri winked, stopped, and turned to study Otabek. He stepped closer and gave his lips a quick peck, followed by shooting him a grin. "Help me with this shit. I'm no one's little cook."

Otabek was red all over he was sure, but he laughed. "Yea. Uh-huh, okay. You're just too lazy."

"Oh up yours." Yuri set up a wok for them and had Otabek help him in cutting up the chicken. It was becoming more of a meal than a simple snack. Should they really be doing that? Otabek didn't care as much as he probably should. He was just enjoying himself doing something as simple as prepping food with Yuri.

He cooked at home often enough, and decently. But unless his mother felt like helping out, he kind of cooked alone. He had his own preferences usually, so he just cooked up his own shit unless he got home late from a club and there were acceptable leftovers to heat up.

Those were awful lonely nights sometimes. He'd sit there and watch a lot of couples out dancing when taking his breaks, and there were times he kind of wanted that. It wasn't romance he desired exactly, but the like-minded company of two people twisting with and grinding on each other in such perfect way. Two people who really fit, and perfectly. Two people who looked amazing when the beat was right and the colored lights surrounded them.

He thought about pair skating with Yuri.

Otabek was distracted from his thoughts when they started adding food to the wok and it made what felt like an insanely loud cooking sound. He even startled and Yuri laughed at him. "What, you think someone is gonna catch us cooking and get all pissed?"

"I-" That was exactly what he thought. "No!"

"Liar," Yuri hissed and jabbed him with his elbow.

Otabek glared and jabbed him back. "Oh you're lucky we're monitoring our cooking right now."

"Or what?" Yuri asked, giving him a wicked smile.

"Yea, or what!?" came a female voice and both of them jumped.

Yuri jumped too that time and when he spun around to face the intruder, he hissed again and that time really sounded like a cat. Otabek turned too and there in front of them was Mari, holding a box of cigarettes and staring at them with an amused smirk. Her hair was tied back as usual and she was dressed in her usual burgandy outfit.

She stared back at them and all were quiet, even if Yuri had a look of outrage on his face. Otabek tried to mask his own anxiety with as blank a face as possible. "...Or what?" she repeated.

"Have you been watching us this whole time?" Yuri asked angrily.

"Nah. Just walked in at the tail end." Mari chuckled. "I'm glad to see you two out here though. My parents were a little worried when you missed lunch and breakfast and didn't even have anything sent to the room. Yuuri had to assure them."

"Assure them how?" asked Otabek, while Yuri bristled.

"Just said you guys were still sleepy. You didn't fool anyone." She winked. "Should we expect you for dinner later? Or are you going to go on a date?"

"A DATE?" Yuri snapped and then Otabek was even more on edge.

"Yea, a date. Eat some food. Make eyes at each other. You know." Mari started to pull a cigarette from the pack.

"No! We're not going on any dates!" Yuri growled. "No goddamn dates and we'll see if we show up for dinner!"

"Wow. My bad." Mari shrugged and started to walk past them toward the stairs. "Usually people in relationships do that."

"Well we're not in one." Yuri huffed and spun back around to tend to the food while Otabek stared in shock. Maybe Yuri wasn't comcortable talking about it yet, but it still kind of stung.

It seemed to strike Mari as harsh as well. She paused and shared a look with Otabek before slowly turning away to go down the stairs. And once she was gone, some of the sour mood went with her, but not enough. Otabek glanced at Yuri and then away. He didn't need to watch the food if Yuri was. And he didn't want to.

His appetite had diminished significantly.

Yuri hadn't said anything, but as they finally sat to eat Otabek wondered if he could tell he'd reacted a bit strangely. Yuri didn't really say anything. He asked Otabek if he liked his food. He made a comment about Yuuri being a piggy, and near the end of the meal asked Otabek if he wanted to go to the onsen.

When Otabek declined, Yuri watched him for an uncomfortable amount of time before getting up with his bowl. He took it to the sink, washed it, and came back for Otabek's. When he did, he leaned down and Otabek felt Yuri nuzzling the top of his head, pressing a lingering kiss to it.

His guard went right back down and Otabek turned his head to catch Yuri's lips briefly. Though usually he read his best friend almost perfectly, he couldn't understand him completely. Yuri was usually very honest - at times brutally so. And when his nerves got the best of him he not only pressed on but did so with amazing results.

Emotions were different, but...

As Yuri drew away and took Otabek's bowl to the sink, he knew he couldn't place too much on the blonde. Otabek was way more locked up. He hadn't even managed to ask what they were back in the privacy of the bedroom!

"Want to go walking on the beack?" Yuri asked as he started to do the dishes. Otabek got up to help him.

"You don't want to go to the rink?" Otabek asked as he started to dry things to put them away.

Yuri shook his head. "Nope. I'm guessing that's where the other two are, and uh-"

"I get it." Otabek cut him off. Yuri had no need to explain it further. "Believe me I get it. The beach for sure. It's cool out again so it should be pretty empty."

Yuri worked on the last bowl, smirking as he did so. "Perfect."

And so, they found themselves on the beach in the late afternoon. When they left Yutopia, Otabek had considered reaching for Yuri's hand. Yuri didn't reach for his. Otabek suspected he might not because they were out in the public and Yuri's behavior with Mari had been odd. But still, Yuri touched him around other people, so surely that wouldn't change?

Otabek's head hurt.

When they got to the beach Yuri paused and reached into the pocket of the sweatshirt he had changed into. He withdrew his phone and his red ear buds. "I loaded the playlist you made me," he said standing in front of Otabek. "I listen to it a lot."

"Oh? I need to make you an updated one," Otabek mused, touching his chin. He hadn't shaved very recently and could feel the stubble growing out. He might let it grow a little more.

Yuri smiled and handed one of the earbuds to Otabek after plugging the set into his phone. His hair moved slightly with the breeze and with his eyes so bright, Otabek swore he never looked more perfect. "Go for it," Yuri told him.

When they each had a bud in, Yuri linked his arm with Otabeks so they could walk along the shore. Otabek's head still hurt but the music and the warmth of Yuri was soothing...if he could have closed his eyes and successfully kept walking, he would have.

Then of course, he would have missed looking out at the waves with his Yuri, wouldn't have seen Yuri's smile when he steered them to a big white sand dollar that had washed up during high tide. Yuri had 'rinsed' it in the salter seawater before shoving it into his sweathirt pocket. Then he went back to linking his arm with Otabek's as they walked.

They saw very few people on the way as the beach was indeed pretty empty. That was just fine. Yuri kept a little distance when there was another person, and when there wasn't, his head would touch on Otabek's shoulder. They made small talk along the way when they did speak. Otabek wouldn't have minded, but it was one of the few times he wished they were talking a lot.

They reached the edge of the beach, where beach front houses began and they could not trespass. Not that they wanted to. It was quite a long walk they had taken together. Instead of going directly back Yuri led them up and off the beach to a grassy picnicking area. They sat at, or rather on, one of the tables, leaning against each other. Otabek put his arm around Yuri to draw him closer. He kissed the side of his head once, then twice.

"I wish we could stay out here all night," Yuri said with a sigh. "But everyone will get worried even if we text."

"It'll get cold, too," Otabek pointed out.

"So what...I'm warm right now," Yuri said and Otabek chuckled. "I am serious though."

Otabek squeezed him and turned to gently kiss his cheek, his lips lingering. "But the bed is so comfortable..." He couldn't wait to makeout with Yuri in it again. Even though he wanted to talk about it, he couldn't even pretend he would shove all that stuff aside for even longer just to spend time kissing and hugging Yuri.

They could always have an emotional conversation when he was back in Almaty and they were reduced to long distance conversation. That totally wouldn't make it harder...totally.

"It is," Yuri replied, and then he turned against Otabek. "But tomorrow we should sneak out for a while. Bring something warm. Something to eat, too. We don't even have anything to drink."

Otabek laughed, then frowned. "You're serious about this, aren't you?" he asked him.

Yuri nodded. "Very. Just you and me, let's get away. He took Otabek's free hand in both of his and sighed. "We don't have to go here. There's plenty of places."

"So you want to...run away...together?" He was having trouble following Yuri's logic. He was always doing his own independent thing but it still seemed strange.

Yuri nodded. "For a night. Just for one night. No chance of being interupted...just...please?"

Otabek didn't really know if he liked it. He liked the aspect of being away from everyone. He liked extensive alone time with Yuri. But they could have that in their bedroom or even the onsen. Sort of.

But...maybe it could be fun. And maybe they could figure everything out. That would make it even more worth it. "Fine," Otabek finally agreed.

Yuri picked up his head and grinned at him excitedly. He then took Otabek's face in his hands, his eyes sparkling, and kissed him hard right on the lips.

Otabek was glad he agreed.

[caseyvalhalla]

despite what you’ve been told (pt 6)

so, I realize that this interpretation for the ‘commemorative photo’ scene has been disavowed via Word of God, but it’s what I was working with from the start so I’m just gonna roll with it; enjoy your Yurios, only one more installment after this!

Read Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Bonus | Part Five

Yuri Plisetsky’s life is suffering.

The most frustrating things he’s discovered as a teen is 1) the world he’s grown up into doesn’t meet any of his expectations, and also 2) the adults he used to admire turned out to be actual human beings capable of failure and emotion and being hopelessly pathetic and unreliable.  They do things like let him down, forget his existence, make promises they have no intention of keeping, and shut themselves away in bathroom stalls to cry.

Yuri hates it, more than anything.  He hates that vulnerability because his idols and role-models are supposed to be past that--beyond fallibility, beyond breaking, beyond childishness.  But they’re not.  Yuri feels betrayed.

He stomps out of the bathroom and goes to find Victor, not because Victor will prove himself to be any more capable or reliable than the blubbering mess in the toilet stall but because at least he’s a familiar disappointment, and at least he’s capable of pretending.  Victor surrounded by flashing lights and microphones is the very impression of competence, oozing sound bites and sex appeal, another effortless success, a champion carved out of marble.  The moment Victor notes Yuri’s presence suddenly he’s drawn into the circle of attention and celebrity, grumbling until Victor’s blithe scolding convinces him to answer a few questions about his advancement to Seniors, cold but mostly genial.

He’s started to see the cracks in Victor’s mask, though, even at times like this.  At practice, when the only eyes on him are his coach and his rinkmates Victor is as silent and cold as the siberian tundra--on the ice he’s as refined and elegant as ever but his mouth tilts down in frustration, eyes focused on something distant over Yuri’s shoulder whenever he tries to get Victor’s attention.

Yuri wants to stay mad at him, wants to wash his hands of the World Champion of Assholes and never speak to him again, but he can’t, and that just pisses him off more.

When Victor finally waves off the press and they make their way to the exit, he predictably starts criticizing the step sequence in Yuri’s FS program and Yuri groans through his teeth, head dropping back dramatically, more to ensure that Victor gets the full force of his grimace than for any other reason.  “Who cares?  I won.  Quit nagging me.”

Unfortunately Yakov is just close enough to hear him and launches into a lecture the moment they’re in earshot.  Yuri stops listening after less than a second, stare wandering past Victor’s shoulder--and there he is, the latest disappointment in Yuri’s life, staring at the three of them with a dumb expression behind his stupid nerd glasses.  Yuri scowls but he doesn’t seem to notice, and that just frustrates Yuri more.

Look at me!  Pay attention to me!  You’re a pathetic loser and the second I get home I’m taking all the posters of you off my wall and burning them.  I’ll never watch your YouTube videos again.  I hate your guts.  Look at me, Katsuki, stop staring at Victor like an idiot.  You failed me and I’ll never forgive you!

Japan’s Top Failure won’t look at Yuri, though; he just stares past him with that same limp, miserable posture and expression until Victor finally stirs, feeling eyes on him, and turns.

And Victor is the biggest idiot on the planet, because he immediately pulls up his movie star expression and says, graciously, “Commemorative photo?  Sure.”

Victor is still smiling when Katsuki curls into a ball of abject misery and slithers away without a word, and that smile gradually melts into a blank stare while Yuri feels enough rage build up in his stomach that he thinks he might literally explode.  He tries to pay attention to Yakov for a few seconds, just to distract himself, but Victor’s sense of self-preservation has never been in top form, so when he turns back he has the gall to mumble, “What was that about?” to himself, one finger curled against his lower lip.

And Yuri can’t take it anymore.

“Oh my GOD, what is your PROBLEM?  That was YUURI KATSUKI YOU DUMB FUCK!”

Victor stares down at him, mask summarily out of place, vague like he thinks he knows the name but can’t quite place it, and it’s like a microcosm of everything that’s been wrong with Victor since last season.  Distracted, listless, able to pretend he’s still inspired with his feet on the ice and cameras in front of him, fickle and directionless anywhere else.  Before now, Victor would have been the one telling Yuri the names and careers of every single competitor at every event they go to, right down to their Junior division base scores and personal training regimens.  But this Victor doesn’t seem to know anyone, doesn’t pay attention to anything, can’t keep any information in his head for more than a few hours.

Yakov has been making noises, occasionally, mutterings that sounded like it’s happening again and has long arguments with Victor behind closed doors that never seem to resolve anything.  Yuri doesn’t remember it very well because he was too young, but he knows there was a break, an undefinable period of absence after which Victor reappeared in St. Petersburg, hair cut short, tired and world-weary but smiling in a way that made eight-year-old Yuri feel relieved even though he wasn’t sure why.  Maybe just because it seemed to make Yakov feel relieved, in his own disgruntled way.

He assumes this is what those mutterings and arguments mean, but Yuri still doesn’t know why Victor was gone to begin with, and nothing pisses him off quite like his own ignorance.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Victor echoes, eyes narrow and turned to the side like he can see into his own memory if he peers hard enough, and Yuri grinds his teeth.

“Japan’s top skater.  He wins his Nationals every year.  He came in 6th, weren’t you watching?”

“I was talking to the press.”

Victor can’t possibly understand the depths of Yuri’s feelings about this, how eager he’d been to see Katsuki perform in person, only to watch him fall and stumble all over himself like a newborn foal.  Victor couldn’t understand how unfair that was, how Katsuki had let himself down, let his fans down, let Yuri down even though they’d never spoken before Yuri broke into his toilet stall and screamed his own disappointment in Katsuki’s face.  He was supposed to be better than this.  Victor was supposed to be better than this.  The adults in his life weren’t supposed to let him down.

And now Victor is lost in thought, somewhere out of reach for the rest of the day, for all of the following day through the exhibition where he skates as flawlessly and beautifully as ever, right up until the banquet.

Yuri refuses to discuss the banquet.

He’ll discuss how idiotic Victor is during the banquet, how every time his conversation lapses into silence Yuri follows his line of sight and invariably sees Katsuki in his lame department store suit, sucking down yet another flute of champagne.  He’ll discuss how gross it all ends up being, because there’s a stripper pole and partial nudity involved and he can never, ever admit to how well Katsuki owns him at his own preferred style of dance even though he’s drunk enough it’s deeply improbable how well he keeps on his feet.  He’ll discuss how appalled he is when Katsuki wraps his champagne-soaked, half-dressed self around Victor, babbling in a drunken mixture of Japanese and English, begging in a delighted sing-song for Victor to coach him.

What Yuri won’t discuss is later, after Victor dances with him, smiling like he hasn’t in more than a year or maybe ever, when Yuri catches a glimpse through a part in the crowd, Yuuri Katsuki in Victor’s lap and the two of them laughing, murmuring, arms sliding around each other.  Lips touching.

It’s not fair.

Yuri wonders, sometimes, if he knew what would happen after that--if he knew that one day he’d be in a backwater town somewhere in Japan on the ice with these two bumbling grownups, ready to stomp his feet and scream because they can’t take their eyes off each other, can’t stop clinging to each other, because I’m here, too!  Pay attention to me, too!  I need your love, too!

He wonders if he knew that, knew how disgusting they would end up being, how unimportant he would end up being to them, if he would have sent Victor the link.

Yuri sort of knows, in that moment when he’s watching the YouTube channel he swore he’d never look at again, curled on his bed surrounded by the posters he swore he was going to burn, when the internet suddenly explodes with Yuuri Katsuki.  Would Victor even notice?  Victor, who never notices anything anymore, especially not Yuri Plisetsky, even when Yuri Plisetsky is standing right in front of him, yelling in his face.

Without inspiration you’re as good as dead!

But maybe if Yuuri Katsuki is the only thing Victor will notice, the only thing he wants to notice, then maybe that’s better than him not noticing anything or anyone at all.

Yuri figures he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life, if he copies the YouTube link into this text message to Victor.  He’s right.

He does it anyway.

And maybe one day he’ll admit to someone he trusts to never, ever repeat any such thing that he wouldn’t take it back, even if he had the chance.  Even if he had a million chances, he’d press the send button every time, teeth grit in a scowl, ready to fling his phone into the sun as soon as it goes through.  It’s selfless and unconditional and what pisses him off the most is that Victor knows, weeks later.  He looks at Yuri and says agape like he’s already read everything in Yuri’s heart, like his love is an open book for Victor to peruse.

And Yuri will never, ever forgive either of them.

...

Except he does, this time.  And every time after.

[brites]

idk if this is the kinda h/c you're into but can you do yuuri having a panic attack and yurio taking care of him

[actualyuuri]

prompt: yuuri, yuri, and Viktor are shopping or something; someone flirts w/ yuuri, Viktor is jealous, yuri is rolling his eyes because "Viktor you're jealous and it's pathetic okay"

Pins & Coffee

length: 1.8k; rating: all ages

@anon how dare u leave me a prompt involving jealous!Victor when I am supposed to be studying (jk tyvm)

Read more of my fics here or leave me a prompt here!

“People actually buy these things?” Yurio sneers as he shifts through the small pile of pins by the checkout. “What are you even supposed to do with pins?”

“Pin things,” Victor answers simply.

He rolls his eyes. “Duh, but pin them to what? Like, clothes? I wouldn’t put anyof these on my clothes.”

Yuuri shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I own pins.”

“Of course you do,” Yurio scoffs. He squints at the line in front of them. “How long is this gonna take? And why are there so many people here?”

“I’m not sure,” Victor notes. “Why don’t you wait in line while Yuuri and I keep shopping? Here’s some cash.”

“What?” Yurio asks, as Victor shoves the stacks of clothes and money into his arms and walks away. He glances over his shoulder at Yuuri, who glances between them, conflicted, before hurrying after Victor. “You two are not leaving me here.” He frowns at the person in front of him in line, then the person behind him. “Victor, come back here right now or I swear.”

“That was mean,” Yuuri says as he catches up to Victor, looking back at Yurio, who is fuming, the clothes piled up to his neck.

Victor shrugs. “He’ll get over it. Besides, we have a lot more shopping to do. I need more jeans. And Mila asked me to pick her up… Some sort of perfume.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and squints at the print. “Can you read this?”

Yuuri stands on the balls of his feet to try and get a better look. “Um, no, I can’t.”

“Well, I’ll text her,” he sighs. “But she said it’s at a store on the lower level, so let’s go.”

“What about Yurio?”

Victor shrugs. “He’ll be in line for a while. And we’ll text him, too.”

They get on the escalator, Yuuri leaning against the railing as they descend towards the lower level of the mall. They’re each holding several bags, and Victor wonders if Yuuri’s arms are starting to get tired. “It’s this way,” he says.

He turns a corner, and Yuuri turns too, except there’s a loud slam. Victor turns around to see Yuuri on the ground, the bags spilled in front of him and a man kneeling down, mumbling quick apologies in Russian and helping him gather his fallen items. And Yuuri gets up slowly, rubbing at his forehead, and then his eyes meet the man’s.

And they stare for a second.

And Victor hurries over.

“Are you okay?” Victor asks him.

Yuuri nods. “I’m fine.”

“You speak English?” the Russian man asks.

(Of course this man happens to speak English, Victor thinks.)

“Yeah,” Yuuri replies, offering a smile.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking.” He finishes piling Yuuri’s items back into his bags and picks them up for him by the handles. And he has muscular arms. Victor will admit that. But only from an objective perspective, of course. It’s not as though he’s attractive.

“No, no, I wasn’t looking,” Yuuri insists. He adds a thanks as he takes the bags.

“Let me buy you coffee,” the man says. Then he glances at Victor, as if, perchance, remembering his existence. “Both of you.”

Yuuri blushes and ducks his heads. “Oh, you really don’t have to.”

“You really don’t have to,” Victor agrees, licking his lips. He takes a step closer to Yuuri. Because this man’s intentions are becoming obvious. And the way his eyes lock onto Yuuri is becoming obvious. And as childish as it may seem, Victor doesn’t like it.

“I insist,” the stranger adds. “There’s a place right over here.”

Yuuri glances at Victor, then shrugs. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Victor hates Yuuri’s kindness.

(No, he loves Yuuri’s kindness. He just happens to hate it in this very moment.)

The man buys them coffee. He starts talking to Yuuri. Yuuri talks back to him. And they’re laughing. “Did you hear that, Victor?” Yuuri asks him, a hint of concern in his eyes, which makes sense, probably, because Victor hasn’t heard a single word in the past three minutes.

“No, what is it?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri dismisses.

And the man is smiling at him.

Like they’re friends or something ridiculous like that.

(Yuuri is friendly, of course he’s friendly. But he’s also attractive. And sometimes friendliness and attractiveness can be a dangerous duo.)

“You two ditched me,” Yurio says as he walks up to them, shopping bags piled high. “And who’s this?”

“We bumped into each other in the mall, he offered to buy us coffee,” Yuuri explains. “Oh, I didn’t actually catch your name…”

“Alexei,” he answers, smiling. “And you’re…?”

“Yuuri.”

“Yuuri, that’s a nice name.”

Yuuri blushes.

(Victor hates it.)

(Because he has made Yuuri blush before on several occasions, and he prides himself on that. Because Yuuri looks unbelievably endearing when he blushes, and he ducks his head just like that, and sometimes he’ll touch his hair—yes, just like that. Except it’s not for Victor this time. Which is annoying. And unfair. Unfair for several reasons that he can’t think of right now, but that he is absolutely sure are present.)

“Your… Your name is nice too,” Yuuri tells him shyly.

Victor sees Yurio glance down at his phone and type out something. Then he feels his own phone buzz in his back pocket.

You’re pathetic.

He glares at Yurio and texts back. What?

Yurio doesn’t respond, just sits down at their table, setting his bags on the floor beside the chair. And then Alexei is asking Yuuri about something, and Yuuri tugs on the collar of his shirt, licking his lips as he stares at the table. Victor sees Alexei’s gaze lock onto the action and curses internally. He takes his phone back out and texts Yurio again. Do something.

Yurio raises an eyebrow at him from across the table. Yuuri and Alexei are too invested in their own conversation to notice either of them. And Yuuri doesn’t normally do well with strangers. Which is making this worse. Because this means that Alexei is quickly becoming more than a stranger. After all, they’re already on a first name basis. Why don’t they just get married? Oh, right, because Yuuri is engaged to Victor. To Victor. Victor begins coming up with a list of casual ways he could introduce their engagement to the conversation. 

Would you pay me? Yurio asks.

Fine.

Say please.

Please.

Yurio clears his throat. “I want to go home. Victor, take me home.”

Victor smiles internally, but sighs externally. “So early?” He laces his tone with fake disappointment.

“We need to get Mila’s perfume,” Yuuri points out.

“Then let’s get the perfume and leave,” Yurio says.

Yuuri smiles at Alexei. “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he says. “Would you… Do you have a phone?”

He nods. Takes it out of his pocket.

Victor can’t believe his eyes.

(Can’t believe them.)

Because Yuuri is giving his phone number to this man.

His fiancé, giving away his phone number.

No.

(No, no.)

(This can’t be happening.)

“We’ll have to keep in touch,” Alexei says, smiling brightly.

(Because who wouldn’t be smiling after receiving Yuuri’s phone number?)

Victor wants to wipe that smile off of his face as quickly as possible.

He takes Yuuri’s hand.

Laces their fingers.

Yuuri glances at him, surprised, lips parting.

Alexei looks surprised, too, and so does Yurio.

“Let’s go,” Victor says, smiling at Alexei. “Nice to meet you.”

Victor lets go of his hand a moment later, when they’re back in the crowded mall. He doesn’t want to, but he does. Yuuri still looks adorably confused, though, eyebrow shooting up towards his hairline. “What was that about?”

Yurio snickers. “I wonder.”

“What was what about?” Victor asks innocently.

Yuuri doesn’t answer, just enters the store and starts glancing around. “Did Mila text you back about the perfume?”

Before Victor can reply, Yuuri’s phone buzzes, and he takes it out of his pocket, smiling at the screen and typing something.

(Smiling at the screen.)

(Smiling.)

“Who are you texting?” Victor wonders. It’s a casual inquiry. Very casual. Just a question. An innocent question. Not weird in the slightest, no.

Yuuri glances up. “Oh, what?”

“Who… Who were you texting, just now?”

Yurio is face palming, out of Yuuri’s sight.

“Phichit,” Yuuri says. “He was just asking me to help him decide on an outfit.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” he asks.

“Just… That’s… Well, did you help him?”

Yuuri nods slowly. “Um, yes.”

“That’s… Nice of you.”

Yurio interrupts, “Here’s Mila’s perfume. I know because it smells bad.”

They buy the perfume, then they’re walking towards the car. Yuuri is texting someone again. “Phichit, still?” Victor asks.

“No, Alexei just said hi. Just so that I’d have his number, too.”

“Right. So that you have his number too,” Victor repeats slowly. “That makes sense.”

Yuuri licks his lips. “You’ve been… You’re acting weird.”

“Am I? I didn’t notice.”

“Okay, both of you, stop walking.” Yurio blurts. “Victor is jealous that you gave that guy your number because he’s dumb, and you didn’t notice because you’re dumb. There. Better? Can we all act normal again?”

Yuuri gapes. “You were jealous? Why?”

Victor rubs the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t use the word jealous… I just…”

“He was jealous,” Yurio confirms before hurrying towards the car and getting in shotgun. Yuuri and Victor remain in the parking lot.

“I… He looked at you. A lot,” Victor explains lamely.

Yuuri bites the inside of his cheek. “He was just being friendly.”

He laughs, but it’s humorless. “No… Yuuri, he was flirting. You’re just too nice to notice.”

“I don’t… Really?”

Victor nods. “Really.”

“Well, I wasn’t interested in him, anyway,” Yuuri says, shrugging. “I’m interested in someone else.”

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just…”

“I do have a fiancé, you know.”

Victor stares.

Stares.

(For a while, probably.)

(His mouth is open, probably. His eyes are wide, probably. He looks like an idiot, probably.)

But he doesn’t care. Can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re saying…?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and takes his hand, lacing their fingers once again. “Yes, I’m saying that I’m not going to cheat on my fiancé. Is that really so shocking?”

“But that’s implying that we’re… That…”

“That we’re together?” Yuuri suggests. “You didn’t think we were?”

“I wasn’t sure what you thought,” Victor points out. “I thought we were. I didn’t know if you thought the same.”

“Well I do,” he assures him. “So no need to be jealous, okay?”

Victor glances down at their joint hands.

Yurio sticks his head out of the car window. “How long is this going to take? Can’t you two just kiss already and get it over with?”

Yuuri does that blush thing again. Except it’s with Victor, this time, and it feels twice as good, makes his heart skip a beat. “Should we?” Victor suggests.

“Kiss?” Yuuri asks, surprised. “I mean, if you—”

(Victor kisses him.)

(Soft, warm, inviting.)

“Isn’t it sort of weird that Yurio is coaching us through our relationship?” Yuuri asks when they’ve pulled away, his forehead pressed against Victor’s.

“Probably. But it shows that he cares.”

Yurio growls. “I heard that! I do not care.”

“He’s lying,” Victor whispers, giving Yuuri a wink.

[daisiesonice]

Compatability Chapter 5: Smell

Summary:  Everything smells, our lovely couple talk things through and Yurio needs some coffee. Also on AO3   Victor watched Yurio snore. The young alpha was completely adorable, especially since he didn't want to be. The day had barely started and Victor felt tired. Maybe Yurio had the right idea. "Am I getting old?" he said, paranoid. He ran to the bathroom mirror and checked his hairline. His hair was fine. Completely fine. 

"Can never be too safe with these things," he told himself. God, he needed some tea. In the kitchen, Yuuri's mother greeted him. Victor replied with a quiet good morning, not quite able to meet her eyes considering all that he had done with her son and (if all went to plan) everything he would do. His embarrassment didn't stop him from asking where the tea bags were, of course. She offered to pour him the tea and, unable to turn down her hospitality, he accepted. "Are you going to practice today, Vicchan?" she asked. "Oh, maybe later," he replied. She frowned. "Are you sure? You should, before it gets busy." Such a kind, persistent woman. It was no wonder how Yuuri had turned out to be such an angel with a mother like that. Victor smiled. "I'll ask Yuuri in a bit, then. He doesn't have work today, right?"

Makkachin curled up by his feet, acting as his fluffy foot warmer. Victor was trapped. To disturb Makkachin when he was so peaceful was almost criminal. The dog yawned and used Victor's slippers as a cushion. "So cute," he whispered, patting his companion's head. Makkachin sniffed his hand curiously and sneezed. Hiroko grabbed a tray of food and took it out to the guests, leaving Victor alone. This would have been fine, if it weren't for the bubbling in his stomach and his twitching leg. He bounced his leg up and down, aware of Makkachin's whiny protests, but unable to stop his nerves. "Victor, we need to talk." The alpha's leg stopped twitching. He stared at Yuuri, who was in slouchy at home clothes and looked about as nervous as Victor felt. Oh, God. Did he get a return flight to Russia, Makkachin and Yurio included, so soon? Did he have to go back to early morning practices, coffee ground rewards and fake smiles so soon? "Of course. Is something wrong?" "I just - I want you to know that this is because of me and not you, ok?" Yuuri said, squeezing shirt. The distance between them felt like an entire country with the table acting as a border. Victor leaned forward, daring to cross it. “I’d like an explanation, if you can.” Victor’s voice was as soft as his heart when it came to Yuuri Katsuki. It was those big brown eyes, looking at him as if words were bombs and everything was on the brink of exploding. “I really like you.“ “I like you too.” Yuuri blushed. “I know that I asked you to spend my heat with me, but I… I want you to know that you can still change your mind. I’m not holding you to anything. I respect your choice and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, because-“ Victor sighed, relieved. “Oh, please. You just want me on my knees again, begging to taste you. Pressure me into something, oh, you are so adorable, my darling.” “I have a medical condition,” Yuuri blurted. “A what now?” The omega took a deep breath. “It basically means a need a mate this time to be comfortable. My heats have always been long, but recently the trend has gotten worse and now my doctor says that, if I want to go through my heat this time, a mate would be the best option, considering my preferences. The heat will be intense, lasting 72 hours minimum. If you don’t want to, I completely understanding. I didn’t want you to spend a heat with me without knowing everything.” Victor nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Yuuri.” The alpha unlocked his phone. Yuuri watched, biting his lip. “So…?” “Do you still want to spend your heat with me?” Victor asked, “You have no one else in mind?” Yuuri shook his head. “There’s no one else. I mean, it has to be you. I mean, not in a bad way… Am I making any sense?” “We’re on the same page, Yuuri,” he said, grinning, “Do you want to take Yurio to the rink later?” “Yeah, sure. Yuuko would like that.” “Great! Let me just order this cock ring and we can go.” Yuuri’s jaw dropped. “Victor! You can’t just say that!” “Hm? Why? I’m taking everything you said into account. I’m making sure we’re prepared, Yuuri. I want you to have the best time possible.” “I want you to feel good too,” Yuuri said, twiddling his thumbs. “Have you ever tried overstimulation? It can be fun. I won’t buy you one as well, I’ve heard omegas don’t like them in heat. Oh, unless you want one?” Yuuri crinkled his nose in thought. “Um, no. I don’t think so. O-oh, there’s another thing I need to tell you.” “Ok,” Victor mumbled, scrolling through the website. “I’ve never spent a heat with anyone before.” The alpha put his phone down. “Yuuri, it’s more common than you think. We’ll discuss what you’re comfortable with before. You can tell me anything, I want you to tell me everything.” Yuuri turned bright red. “You were my first.” Victor imagined firing himself into the sun, because there was absolutely no way he could stay on Earth while Yuuri Katsuki existed, driving him mad with every word and every blink of his impossibly gorgeous eyes. “Y-you-“ “I’ve done stuff before, but… never this much. I’m glad I waited. I’m really glad it’s you, Victor.” Victor collapsed in a pile on the table. “I can’t.” “I should’ve said before…” “I almost can’t believe it,” he said, rising up from the table, “How are you so good? Are you an omega, Katsuki, I think you might be a demon.” “I’ll be sure to look into it,” Yuuri deadpanned.

The ice rink was nice, Yuri supposed. He could’ve done without the strange, nose-bleeding mother, her paparazzi spawn and the pig’s flirting… Actually, he could’ve done without everyone, but apparently that’s ‘antisocial’ and ‘no fun’. Victor, surprisingly, was the worst. “Yuuri! Come and skate with me,” he whined, moving across the ice with irritating grace, “Please.” The pig was leaning on the railing and talking to Yuuko. Yuri rolled his eyes and slapped Victor’s arm. “Shut up and skate.” Victor smirked. “Have you missed my skating?” Yuri left the stupid old man to his own devices. Victor’s smugness was surely a virus and Yuri had no intentions of catching his stupidity. The young alpha stomped away, holding his nose as he passed the Japanese man. Something smelt weird about him. [12:04] Yuri: ok so Japan isn’t terrible [12:05] Otabek: Is that a social cue for me to not mention the previous conversation? [12:06] Yuri: no just making small talk [12:10] Otabek: If you’re alone can I call you? Yuri hesitated. He looked around the empty locker room, paranoid, then sat down on an old bench. [12:12] Yuri: ok “I like you,” Otabek said. Yuri’s world exploded. “What the fuck?” “I just thought you should know.” “What the fuck?” “But I think we should wait. Even if you were older, now wouldn’t be a good time. We’re both busy as hell. I want to take my time with you.” He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Yuri rubbed his eyes. “Is this a confession?” “I don’t think so, considering my feelings were obvious. It’s more like a confirmation. However you want to think of it, really. Yuri? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Yuri took a moment to breathe. “I… I like you too. You smell good.” “Thank you?” Otabek said, holding back his laughter. “Shut the fuck up, you absolute – I can’t even believe we’re talking about this over the damn phone instead of in person like actually functioning human beings, Jesus-“ “I plan to say it as often as I can, in person or not.” The door creaked open. Yuri jumped up, but no one came in. He mumbled, “Could’ve told me sooner, stupid Beka.” They’d both had so many opportunities and, now, they were saying it countries apart… Though, it was probably for the best. His reflection was bright red and he didn’t want Beka to see that. “I can’t wait to see you again.” “Yeah, me too…” Yuri gulped. “I was serious about, you know…” Yuri curled his legs into his chest and held himself still. What would Beka think if he heard restless fidgeting, like Yuri was some hopeless kid who couldn’t handle a conversation about rut? His stomach was tight. “I know. Let’s talk about it again in a year.” Yuri clenched his phone. “A year? Seriously? I’m gonna fucking die.” “You can’t die of blue balls, Yura,” he said, ignoring Yuri’s embarrassed protests, “And we need to court first.” “You better court me, Beka, like hell you’re getting me that easily,” Yuri said, holding back a snarl. He could practically feel Beka’s smirk. “Ah, I knew you’d agree.”

Victor practised his step sequence. Yuuri was still talking to his friend; their whispered Japanese and hurried glances weren’t enough. He readied himself, then jumped. A Quad flip! And a good landing, too, considering he hadn’t practised in a while. Yuuko exclaimed in slightly broken English, “That was amazing! Yuuri, did you see that?” The omega turned his head. “What?” Victor pouted, but refused to show how effected he was by the omega’s lack of affection. After all, he was above such childish tactics… He blew a kiss at Yuuri’s head. Perfect timing. Yuuri turned around again and Yuuko squealed. “You two are so cute!” she said, her English a better pronounced. He imagined her excitement had gotten to her head before. If only Yuuri lost his ability to speak from his skating… Ah, wouldn’t that be wonderful to see. He was allowed to fantasise, right? Victor skated a bit closer to them, hoping to catch on to Yuuri’s thoughts and stick there like a leech. Yuuko must have caught on to his plan as she spoke entirely in English. “I’m so glad I didn’t interrupt you last time,” she continued, sighing, “I want you to be happy, Yuuri.” The omega gasped. “Yuuko – no way – did you-“ “I didn’t see a thing.” Yuuko said. Victor didn’t know her well, but even he could tell she was insincere from the silly grin plastered on her red face, and the slow drip of blood leaking from the right nostril was a dead give-away. Victor giggled and Yuuri turned on him. “Victor, don’t laugh!” “Don’t be so embarrassed, zolotse. She is your friend, yes? I’m sure she won’t tell anyone.” Yuuri grabbed his hand and dragged him out to the rink, holding his head high to the chorus of giggles. Victor squeezed his hand, heart singing to the tune of an outdated love ballad. The warmth of the omega cancelled out the coldness of the rink. It was if his legs were floating after drinking one too many glasses of champagne. “I’m sure she meant no harm by it,” he said to the omega. Yuuri fidgeted. “I know, but that moment was just for us.” Victor choked on air. He went from floating to a fumbling mess, his tongue heavy and clumsy. “W-well, it was longer than a moment.” Yuuri snorted, then laughed at Victor’s offended gasp. The alpha watched him laugh, entranced by the sound, the crinkles of his eyes and the ever reddening of his cheeks. “Adorable,” he muttered. Victor pulled Yuuri closer. He pulled a little too enthusiastically. “Oof! Victor!” Yuuri said, falling ungracefully on top of the alpha. Their legs squished together and Yuuri clutched his jumper. Victor’s butt and elbows took most of the damage. “Ow. Are you alright?” “I’ve been better,” he said, adjusting his glasses, “Are you ok?” “I’m fantastic,” Victor said, holding Yuuri’s waist. He really couldn’t have been better. Well, maybe if they were at home and wearing less clothes. Yes, that would be nice. Yuuri bit his lip. Victor looked over to see if Yuuko was watching, (she wasn’t) then leaned up to kiss his omega. Just a quick peck. “Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, “You’re not playing fair.” The omega dragged them back to their feet. Victor didn’t object, though something was telling him to push Yuuri onto the ice, grind against his cock until they both fell into oblivion and the ice blended into a pool of slick. “Yuuri, my darling, when did you say your heat was coming?” he asked. “A few weeks,” Yuuri replied, brushing ice off his shirt. “Are you sure?” Victor leaned into his neck, sniffing at the intoxicating scent with caution, “I might be effecting you. You’ve never gone this far before, have you? Your body is welcoming me.” The omega smiled. “That sounds like something out of a bad porno. And it’s not like you’re unaffected.” “Oh, you have no idea what you do to me,” Victor said, running his thumb along Yuuri’s bottom lip, “Perhaps, we could watch a bad porno together and you could learn about how effected I am. Do you have any recommendations?” “Oh my God, I don’t-“ Victor kissed his cheek. “Shame. We’ll have to make do on our own.” “For fuck’s sake! You two can’t keep it in your damn pants for two seconds!” Victor sighed. “Yurio, please, must you ruin a romantic moment?” “That was romantic?” Yuuri asked. Victor fell to his knees, unable to stand after that bullseye shot to his heart and ego. Yuuri tried to appease him, but Victor saw no hope for recovery. “When you fuckers are done, get me some god damn food.”

“Coffee is beautiful,” Yurio said. Victor snatched away the cappuccino. “Order decaf. You’re too young for coffee.” “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he snarled, “I’m not 7. Have you forgotten that as well?” Victor sighed. “What else am I forgetting?” He squeezed Yuuri’s thigh under the table and was rewarded by a high pitched squeak. “You said you would choreograph my next performance with Yakov. Then, you left Russia. Then, I got a text from fucking Chris telling me you’d fallen in love,” Yuri said, spitting out the last word with feeling, “with some random Japanese guy.” “L-l-l-l-ove?” Yuuri said. His bubble tea dripped onto his fingers. Victor wanted to lick it off. The older alpha laughed. “Yurio, you are so dramatic. I’ll call Yakov tonight, ok? Have you been holding a grudge this whole time? So adorable. Like a little angry kitten.” Yuri slammed his fist on the table. “Why are you even staying here?” “I’m going to help Yuuri through his heat,” he said, listening to Yuuri’s embarrassed squawks. “Oh, so that’s what that stink is. Jeez, I thought it was because male omegas smell weird.” Victor shook his head. “You haven’t been in contact with a male omega for an extended period of time before, that’s why. This could be good practice for you, Yurio.” “Stop calling me that. And, no, I’m leaving tomorrow. I actually want to skate and win, you see, so I’ve got some fucking work to do. You better come back to Russia soon or I’ll destroy you.” Yuri stormed out of the café. Victor took another sip of coffee, slightly amazed it was made exactly the way he liked it. “I’m not making you stay,” Yuuri said, twirling the straw in his glass. “I want to,” the alpha told him, “I wasn’t happy before. Even now, if I went back, there is nothing and no one that interests me. Skating is beautiful, but I’m almost bored with the attraction. Do you understand, zolotse?” “I don’t know, but… I’m happy now too.” Victor rubbed circles on his thigh. “Then, that's all that matters.” They walked to the onsen together, hand in hand. Victor walked slowly on purpose to prolong the feeling of the omega’s skin against his. “You know, Vitya,” Yuuri said, eyes twinkling, “The sooner we get back, the sooner you can show me how much you care about me.” Victor didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the omega, hands around his waist, and yanked him into a fireman’s lift. Yuuri, dangling off Victor’s back, laughed as the alpha ran the rest of the way. Around the corner from the onsen, the alpha had to put Yuuri down to take a breather. “As romantic as it would be to carry you through the door, I don’t think I can right now. Give me 5 minutes.” Yuuri rubbed his eyes. “My stomach hurts from laughing.” Victor said, in between pants, “My everything hurts.” The omega hooked his arm through Victor’s and pulled him along. “Come on. You can recover. I believe in you.” “So sweet. But, if I don’t?” “Then, I’ll have to make do,” he joked. Victor whined until they made it to the bedroom. He couldn’t whine then, couldn’t even speak, not when he was between Yuuri’s thighs.

[calciseptinefic]

solo and pair

Yuuri!!! On Ice || Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki || Hasetsu, Part VII notes: also available on ao3. warnings: none

.

part vi

.

After Yuuri fails to qualify for the Grand Prix series, life returns to the same monotonous rhythm: morning runs, school, evening practice, school work, and sleep. Occasionally, a minor competition or exhibition will shake up the monotony. Yuuri wins a majority of them with the same routines he performed at tri-regionals, though at the gentle behest of his part-time coach, he minimizes the two quads in his free skate to triples.

"You don't have the right number of rotations," his instructor says. "We can continue to practice of course, but for now I think we should increase your number of combinations and focus on your presentation. That should buff up your points."

Yuuri acquiesces, and only the plethora of prizes—the ribbons and trophies, the monetary consolations and the small prestige—help soothe the sting of disappoint. He needs to start landing quads if he wants to further his career, but it seems that not matter how hard he tries, he cannot pass the point he has reached.

"You're plateauing," Nishigori says one day as they sit on the benches outside the rink, boots laced and hard guards on as they patiently wait for open skate to begin. Yuuko, already graduated from high school and working full time at Hasetsu Ice Castle, is helping a small semi-circle of children take their first tentative steps on the ice. "It happens."

Yuuri huffs, irritated. He knows that all athletes plateau, and he knows that they often do so multiple times over the course of their careers, but knowing it and experiencing it are two entirely different things.

"I've plateaued before," Yuuri bites out. He sounds whiny and petulant even to himself, but he cannot care. He is tired of his lack of progress.

"Then why are you letting it bother you?" Nishigori slaps his broad palm down on Yuuri's bouncing knee. It does not hurt but it does startle, and Yuuri jumps in his seat. "You have to let your body catch up to your ambition. Take a break." Nishigori grins. "You do know what a break is, right?"

Yuuri frowns at Nishigori's teasing. Though it is good-natured and friendly, it still strikes a nerve. Yuuri knows that his body—freshly seventeen and nearing the rough end of adolescence—is adjusting to the physical and mental rigors of semi-professional figure skating, but it has been months, and he hasn't completed a quad of any sort. Even the easiest jump—the pick assisted toe loop—evades him. He feels stuck. Stagnant. In his darker moments, Yuuri wonders if this new plateau is actually his summit.

"I know what a break is," Yuuri mutters as he pushes Nishigori's hand off his thigh. "Don't be a jerk."

"Hey now!" Nishigori's self-satisfied grin grows. "I'm just being honest!"

"Oh," Yuuri drawls. "And here I thought you were just being rude."

A year ago, Yuuri's smart comment would have prompted Nishigori to scowl and punch Yuuri just a little too forcefully in the arm. Now, Nishigori merely laughs and knocks his shoulder companionably against Yuuri's. He has become more agreeable in the past year; he is kinder and easier to talk to. Yuuko says it's because Nishigori has finally grown up, but Yuuri—who has seen the soft way Nishigori presses his fingers to the middle of Yuuko's stomach—is not sure age is the only contributing factor.

"Seriously though," Nishigori continues once the mood mellows. "Taking care of yourself isn't just about training and eating right. It's also about taking time for yourself. Focusing on what's important." Nishigori's eyes follow Yuuko as she glides slowly backwards over the ice, a train of inexperienced kids trailing after her. "Besides, the longer you practice, the more likely you are to make a mistake and hurt yourself. Can you imagine what a disaster that would be?"

"No," Yuuri replies instantly. Though bruises, cuts, and chapped lips are a fact of figure skating, Yuuri has never experienced anything worse than a grade II ankle sprain. The ten days he had to stay off the ice had been the longest ten days of his life. "No, I can't."

"Then take it easy," Nishigori says.

"I'll think about it," says Yuuri.

.

March in Hasetsu is a nebulous time. Snow clings stubbornly to the curbs while patches of grass brighten along walkways. Birds return to roost in blossoming trees, yet the sun remains a distant and heatless white disk. The thawing air being to smell of clean earth and sharp ocean salt. The chilly wind nips. The last of winter tangles with the first of spring and Yuuri—who spends half his life on artificial ice—puts on a coat but not his gloves before he leaves for school.

"Are you going to be home tonight?" Mari asks, taking a drag of her cigarette. They are sitting side by side in the private entryway as Yuuri ties his shoes and Vicchan's wagging tail thumps against the floor.

"Same as usual," Yuuri replies. "The rink closes at nine."

Mari exhales, smoke dissipating upwards. She taps the ashes from the end into a small ceramic dish she carries in the folds of her work robes and says, "You're not going to celebrate with friends?"

Yuuri is confused for a moment, thinking of Yuuko and Nishigori. He is about to say, "But I always meet them at the rink?" when he remembers that it is the last day of his second year of high school.

"Oh," Yuuri murmurs. He tightens the knots of his laces. "I don't—they're my classmates."

Mari scoffs, "What, so they can't be your friends?"

Yuuri frowns at his sister. There are classmates he talks to before the first bell, classmates he sits with during lunch, and classmates he exchanges good-byes with when the day ends, but he's never spent time with any of them outside of school. Few of his peers understand his dedication to his sport and those who do spend their time with their own passions. It's a little ironic; his parents had originally enrolled Yuuri in figure skating to help him make friends, but it ended up being one of the things that prevented him from deepening acquaintanceships.

"I didn't say that. It's just…" Yuuri shrugs. "No one's really interested in skating."

"Or," Mari drawls, "Victor Nikiforov."

Despite the faint flush that scores his cheeks, Yuuri is more annoyed than embarrassed at Mari's pointed remark. He turns away from her, pushes the heel of his palm against his sternum to ease the ache he always feels when Victor Nikiforov's name comes up, and huffs wordlessly.

"Okay, kiddo, okay. I'll stop teasing you about your crush." Mari laughs, a low rasp, and snubs her cigarette out in the dish by her knee. "Have fun at school."

Before he leaves, Yuuri scratches Vicchan behind the ears one final time and begrudgingly says goodbye to Mari. He is sure that the last day of school will be sedate and uneventful, and he is right; exams were completed the previous week, and the busy work his teachers assign is simple. Some teachers don't even bother with the pretense and announce a free period. Predictably, Yuuri's classmates break off into their usual cliques and talk about their plans for the three week long break ahead of them. Yuuri—who is not as anti-social as Mari accuses of being—joins such a group instead of staying at his desk and re-watching the previous Four Continents free skates on his phone.

"I'm going to my grandfather's in Hokkaido," one of the three other boys in Yuuri's circle says with a grimace. "There's still a ton of snow up there and he always puts me to work. I'm in the prime of my youth! I should be somewhere warm, playing video games and meeting cute girls at the café."

"You'd need a girl to actually agree to a date first," a second boy interjects. Yuuri and the other boys snort at the slight.

"Hey!"

"Maybe getting it will be easier in Hokkaido?" the second boy continues with a smirk. "At least those girls don't know what a meathead you are. Who knows? You might even meet your soulmate! I bet she's gonna be a country girl with a huuuuuge pair of—oof!"

The first boy punches the second in the arm, harder than is considered friendly, and they begin to slap and pinch one another over the desk separating them. It is not an uncommon thing; they push each other's buttons in the way close, lifelong friends often do, and no one in the room pays any attention to it.

"Man, I wish I got to leave town," the third member of their group bemoans to Yuuri. "I tried to get my parents to let me go to Osaka with my cousin, but they want me to attend cram school the whole time. They keep bringing up early entrance exams, too." He sighs and rests his cheek in the palm of his hand. "What about your parents? Have they been riding you too?"

"No." Yuuri shakes his head. "I mean, my older sister started working at the onsen right after she finished high school, and I don't think my parents ever said anything to her, either."

"Lu-uh-cky," says the other boy, drawing out and doubling up on the first syllable. "I wish I had a family business. I could just skip university altogether and get to it."

Yuuri says nothing. He does not mind the inevitability of working at Yu-topia—the onsen has been in his family for many years, and he likes the traditional, sedate atmosphere of the inn—but he knows that he cannot do so immediately after he graduates high school. First, he must find out how far his skating will take him; if he does not, he knows he will regret it for the rest of his life.

"What about you?" The question startles Yuuri from his thoughts. "What are you doing over break?"

"I'm—uhh—I'm going to practice my quad toe loop," replies Yuuri, truthfully if not a little cautiously. Mari's earlier sentiment rears its ugly head and makes Yuuri wonder if he's boring. He isn't interested in the same things as his peers—isn't interested in destination vacations, or studying for exams, or fooling around—and he is acutely aware of this fact. "I want to be able to land a quad by the time the season starts."

Yuuri will also be watching the ISU World Championships with Yuuko in a couple weeks, but he doesn't voice this plan. If he does, he knows he'll inevitably wax poetic about Victor Nikiforov and his stunningly bittersweet programs. After Mari's inaccurate assumption that morning, Yuuri knows he isn't ready to be teased a second time about his…. idolization.

"You know, I always forget that you figure skate," the other boy murmurs. "Aren't you nationally ranked?"

"Yeah," Yuuri says. He competed in the All-Japan Figure Skating Championships in late December and finished twentieth with an total score of 152.08. Yuuri is keenly aware that, if it weren't for his presentation scores, he wouldn't have ranked at all. "I didn't do very well."

Yet before Yuuri and the other boy's small side conversation can go into further, more difficult detail, the first half of their group stops rough-housing and pushes the topic back to their break. Yuuri is thankful for the change of subject. It has always been strangely hard for him to talk about his skating to people who aren't Yuuko, Minako, or his part-time coach; he puts too much of himself into the sport to express himself properly to people who aren't a part of the figure skating world.

The rest of the school day passes and ends uneventfully, and less than half an hour after break begins, Yuuri is in the locker room of Hasetsu Ice Castle. Nishigori is already there; he goes to a different high school than Yuuri, and he often beats Yuuri to the rink by several minutes.

"Hey," Nishigori greets as Yuuri sets his gym bag down on the concrete floor. Their assigned lockers are next to one another, as they have been for several years. "Not celebrating with friends tonight?"

"No," Yuuri says. "Are you?"

"No." Nishigori shrugs nonchalantly. "My graduation ceremony is next week, anyway. You're still coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it," says Yuuri. He knows that school has always been hard for Nishigori; Nishigori wasn't book smart, and he struggled through most of his classes. His diploma will have been hard earned. "I'll even wear a tie."

Nishigori snorts but does not say anything while Yuuri perfunctorily changes out of his school clothes and into the athletic gear he wears while on ice. Over the past year, Yuuri has grown several inches and lost the last of his baby-fat; his jawline is sharper, his stomach is flat, and his hips are narrow and trim. He knows he will never be as tall or as muscular as Nishigori, but those things matter less to him now than they once did, and Yuuri no longer hesitates when he unbuttons his navy slacks and strips out of his sweater.

Yuuri's lack of self-consciousness while undressing is also due to his customized soul mark cover. Minako had bought the first one online for his last birthday; in the four months since then, Yuuri has amassed a dozen of the same mark covers in various shades of black, blue, and gray. The cover is a sleeveless top that cuts beneath his ribcage, rises high on his neck, and hides every wild tendril of his mark. The fabric is tightly-woven, light-weight, and moisture-wicking, which is perfect considering that he wears one at all times: when he goes to school and when he works out, when he skates and when he dances, when he's at home and when he goes to bed. The only time Yuuri does not wear his cover is when he showers.

Once Yuuri is done changing, he sits down on the bench next to Nishigori and pulls on his skates. He hunches over to reach his laces, his sternum pressed to his knee.

"Yuuri," Nishigori says. "I… I want to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Yuuri—who is focused on properly lacing his boots over his high arches—does not quite catch Nishigori's subdued tone.

"I need a favor."

"Sure," Yuuri says as he moves onto his second skate. "What is it?"

Nishigori does not answer. Instead, there is a rustling noise as though Nishigori were shifting the clothes around inside his gym bag, then silence. It is not until Yuuri finishes his task that he looks up—

—and sees the small, unopened black ring box cradled in the broad palm of Nishigori's hand.

.

part viii

.