Chapter Text
For the most part, Victor could ignore Phichit’s existence almost entirely.
Said absentee boyfriend called less often now that Yuuri (and himself, no doubt), were thrown into the competitive season truly. If he was texting, Victor wasn't seeing it so out of sight, out of mind and all that. Also Japan seemed more than a world away from the Grand Prix still, bizarre as it sounded. There wasn't the same buzz Saint Petersburg had, the same rush towards the finish line. It gave Victor the impression that he and Yuuri were existing in their own, indulgent bubble where silly outside things like reputations and boyfriends couldn't reach them.
It was nice.
(More than that really).
Except in the weeks that followed, up to and including the Japanese nationals, Victor found his emotional well-being going less the way of a rollercoaster and more along the lines of a trainwreck. The kind that spiraled off its tracks on the edge of the mountain and plummeted down into the valley of utter devastation.
Because Victor was really starting to like Yuuri. More than before, as now he had Yuuri all to himself and Yuuri had somehow wiggled his way into the hole of Victor’s heart and made a home for himself there. There was something very special about someone daft enough to almost break their nose against a rink's awning just from stubbornness. Yakov would say that specialness was caused by being soft in the head. Victor, however, felt it was something more along the lines of tenacious. Yuuri had really pulled one over on Victor there, surprising him. Admittedly, Victor was more surprised with Yuuri's stupidity than his ambition at the time.
But Victor was always a sucker for surprises.
(He was less inclined on bloody noses. His squeamishness was something Victor suffered a great deal of mocking for back in Saint Petersburg, having once nearly vomited after Yurio had split his head open after a failed hydroblade. It wouldn't do in Victor's great scheme for Yuuri to have a coach that fainted rinkside, after all).
(Nearly busting Yuuri's nose a second time from the aborted hug was also a tad not good, Victor had to admit. But really, Yuuri had looked so much worse up close and oh- no, it didn't even bear thinking about).
But Yuuri had forgiven Victor for his balking and Victor in turn forgave Yuuri for his stupidity. Which meant Yuuri had let Victor cuddle him for approximately two hours after the free-skate and really? What was a little blood in the wake of something that lovely? And then things had taken a turn for the... well, whether it was good or bad was something Victor still hadn't decided on.
Love.
Yuuri's theme was love.
(Wasn't that just peaches and cream with a cherry on top? Victor only had a vague idea from the rough translation Yuuri had given him, but all in all, Victor liked the sound of it).
Something very, very warm and easy was flowing back and forth between them since. Runs along the pier were fast fading into walks along the beach, hands swinging in the distance that shrank between them with each passing day. Victor found himself staring too often, pulling his fingers back before they could touch. And each time, Yuuri would glance at him like he knew but he would never say a thing.
(They had never spoken of the massage-gone-stiffy, whenever Victor had been feeling brave enough to try and broach it always being stoppered by Yuuri, who had needed Victor's focus on the Hot Springs contest more than anything else. So Victor shut his mouth, turned the lock and threw the key somewhere far away).
(Not that such a thing stopped Victor from thinking about it. Which Victor did. Often. And each time, he managed to convince himself of something new. Yuuri looked horrified. No, he'd looked curious. No, he had been embarrassed on Victor's behalf. But they had nearly kissed! ... hadn't they? It was like pulling petals of a very sad, pathetic flower that smelled of nothing but self-indulgence).
So Victor had said nothing. And Yuuri did what Yuuri did best- which was also to say nothing.
Yuuri had so much to him, more than anyone Victor had ever met.
Yuuri's conversation betrayed nothing of the emotion he showed in his skating, Victor still after all this time feeling like Yuuri was letting him see something secret when he opened his arms on the ice like he were opening a door. Each curve of his counters or dip in a Choctaw seemed pointed like a compass, following Victor and his guidance like Yuuri had set his stars to him. Victor was caught in that gravity, indulging himself with as close as he could get. Which all things considered, was pretty darn close.
(It was almost enough).
Victor tried to be happy with being allowed to even skim along Yuuri’s surface, tracing circles over the depths Victor resigned himself to probably never truly knowing. Every time it seemed like they were coming just that bit too close together, Yuuri would suddenly flip like the edge of his blade and Victor was shut out. Again.
Victor knew why, of course. A boyfriend was a pretty hard thing to forget. But the whole thing was doing quite the number on his aching heart anyway. There was only so much the little thing could handle and the stop-go Yuuri was giving his blood pressure was definitely toeing the line of too much.
And if Victor thought he was fucked with that, then he was royally shagged now because there was tiny, hopeful part of him that was beginning to suspect that Yuuri may just like him back.
Just the smallest bit.
(That mental flower Victor was mangling over the months was counting down in favour, Victor felt. One little, indecisive petal left. He loves me? ... Maybe).
Really, it had all come to a pretty inevitable breaking point when Victor asked Yuuri to join him on a day trip to Nakasu. He’d sat himself down on Yuuri’s bed with the ineffable flop he’d mastered over the course of living in Hasetsu and its low cushions, phone aloft in one hand. Yuuri bounced where he was lying in his pajamas, frowning at Victor from behind his adorable blue glasses.
‘Tomorrow, let’s take the day off!’ Victor announced before Yuuri had even managed to take his impressive retro headphones off. They looked like he may actually have had them since the nineties. Was Yuuri even old enough to own such things?
(Victor decided that train of thought was really not worth the inevitable frown lines he’d get from fretting over Yuuri and his pre-shoulder pad birthday).
(And it was definitely not worth the ones he’d get from realising that out of himself and Phichit, only one of them had seen The Lion King in the cinema and really, it just wasn’t bearable which of them it had been).
‘Did you say take the day off?’ Yuuri asked with sharp eyes, headphones looping around his neck. Victor looked at them, watching as Yuuri’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Yuuri was looking remarkably cute, threadbare jumper sagging down one shoulder and his hair sticking up from where he pushed his headphones back. Yuuri tilted his head to the side. ‘Victor?’
‘Hmm? Oh, right!’ Victor flushed, caught for about the millionth bloody time staring when he shouldn’t have been. Yuuri smiled at him, almost like he knew (he loves me, not?) and it felt a little close to Yuuri feeling sorry for him. Victor cleared his throat, handing his phone over. ‘There’s a festival on in Nakasu. We should go!’
‘Nakasu?’ Yuuri repeated, accent strong and Victor’s stomach turned right around in a happy little pirouette at the sound of it. Yuuri took Victor’s phone, reading the article with a quick skim. Yuuri could read English so quickly. Victor wondered if being in America had helped him with that.
(That unfortunately brought the reminder of Phichit the fucking twenty year old right back to Victor’s mind that was about as welcome as a kick in the head).
Victor wondered if he should try teaching Yuuri some more Russian before the Cup of China. Just in case, after all.
‘It's a bit of a trek,’ Yuuri said slowly, looking at Victor with that suspicious face he always gave Victor in situations like these. ‘Also the Cup of China is in two weeks. Can I really afford to take a whole day off?’
‘As your coach, I say you can!’ Victor replied cheerily, refusing to have his mood brought down by the hidden reminder that in two very short weeks, he was about to lose Yuuri to the ridiculously disappointing real world outside of their little paradise in Hasetsu. The real world where Yuuri’s stupid, young and even worse, real boyfriend resided.
It didn't take much convincing really to get Yuuri to agree. And once he had, the plan Victor had been half-considering slowly began to come to fruition.
Victor had come to a decision since Yurio had left in a flounce of teenage impetulance, see. While Chris was absolutely right in saying Victor shouldn't make a move as to do so would be not only inappropriate and morally wrong, Victor may have turned the situation on its head so to view it from another, possibly more satisfactory angle.
While stealing someone else’s boyfriend was definitely something that could put him in one of the lower levels of Dante’s frankly overpopulated inferno, nothing could be helped if said boyfriend happened to fall in love with him back. Right?
If Yuuri fell in love with Victor, well- it was just different, wasn't it? Victor was sure it was. It definitely didn't count as underhanded as actively seducing Yuuri from where Phichit couldn't see him…
(Victor was still a little fuzzy on the whole thing, to be honest. But the general gist he’d managed to get a grip of was that he wasn't doing anything wrong by simply being himself and desperately hoping Yuuri liked it better than whatever was waiting for him back in Detroit).
(Or Bangkok, as it turned out. Not that the where of the whole thing mattered a jot).
(But Saint Petersburg did have a ballet. Did Bangkok have a ballet?)
Victor was never one to jump into things, (not until Yuuri, who was really more of a shove into the deep end than leap of faith, the point being Victor was falling and falling fast). But Yuuri had Victor on the tip of his toes, teetering on the edge of something Victor was quite afraid to call love lest it broke his heart entirely when he tripped over it.
Yuuri had already cracked the poor thing rather badly as it were and he hadn't even meant to.
But there was something happening. It had started in Sochi and was still breathing between himself and Yuuri now. It sizzled like fireworks when they were on the ice, burned quiet embers in the creaking wood of their home in Hasetsu. And Victor was absolutely sure that it was not just him feeling it. There was something slipping past Yuuri’s carefully maintained walls and glances. And each time Victor caught sight of it, his head would run away with his heart like a merry band of thieves, hoarding stolen treasure.
If Victor could just get them somewhere away from everything. Somewhere just the two of them, then maybe (please), whatever it was between himself and Yuuri would be given the chance to stretch its fluffy little wings and fly off. Preferably, right into Victor’s arms. Which Victor would be lying in saying he was not considering.
Their day trip to Nakasu was about to become an overnight one, when Victor insisted they stay for the entirety of the festival. This also meant their one day off had now turned into two days off and Yuuri scrunched his nose right up, button wrinkle and looking so serious. Victor nearly whimpered at the sight of it, because Christ- the fucker was cute.
(It was so terribly unfair).
‘I don’t know,’ he’d said, sounding unsure but Victor could see the way Yuuri’s eyes wandered. Watching the bobbing red lanterns that were strewn through the trees with longing. It was coming to dusk now, the amber light streaming on Yuuri’s glasses. ‘The competition is so close. I don’t want to be slacking off.’
‘You got gold at the nationals,’ Victor pointed out, happily reaching into his pocket for his phone to take pictures of the colourful stalls as their lights grew bright in the dusk. ‘You deserve an extra day after that.’
‘That was in October,’ Yuuri mumbled, following Victor as they walked further into the festival. From deep inside, there was the chime of music and all around, Victor could smell the spices of food and sweets warming the November air. ‘And they were all younger than me.’
‘Exactly, they could’ve easily beaten you,’ Victor said brightly, almost missing Yuuri’s groan of misery. Victor paused, turning on the gravel path to see Yuuri was staring down at his shoes and looking incredibly sorry for himself. Well, Victor couldn’t have that.
Victor closed the distance between them, taking Yuuri’s chin in hand and tilting him up to look Victor in the eye. Yuuri went, as Yuuri always did. It was a very heady thing, to know Victor could direct Yuuri so easily. It made his tummy both twist happily and also bend back into itself with guilt. Yuuri really did trust Victor so very much. Victor let Yuuri go, loathe as he was to do it, as suddenly Victor felt a smidge guilty for overstepping.
Boyfriend, Victor reminded himself sternly. A boyfriend who was not Victor and therefore Victor should not be so familiar.
Not until Yuuri said so, that is.
‘You shouldn’t compare yourself to other skaters.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ Yuuri grumbled, kicking at the gravel with his trainer. ‘You’re Victor Nikiforov.’
‘Am I now? You know, I hadn’t noticed. Thank goodness you’re here, Yuuri,’ Victor teased, knowing exactly what Yuuri had meant but not able to resist getting that very special scrunching look Yuuri got when he disapproved of something.
Ah. There it was.
Victor smiled as Yuuri pouted up at him. ‘Very funny. We didn’t even bring any spare clothes for the morning, Victor.’
‘So?’ Victor asked, reaching out to put an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. A completely friendly gesture, Victor was confident in thinking.
(Except for the way touching Yuuri made Victor feel nauseous with happy. There wasn’t even any blood around to blame).
‘So, we can’t stay somewhere and come home in the same clothes!’ Yuuri said, twisting in Victor’s grip to look up at him, but he didn’t shuffle out of Victor’s weight entirely. People watched them as they walked past and Victor pressed closer. He liked when they walked like this. Liked the idea that people might think they were dating. ‘People might think- well, you know!’
‘I do?’ Victor asked, not knowing. Yuuri looked away, blushing furiously and it was terribly obvious in the creeping sunset.
‘What if someone thinks we stayed at a love hotel?’ Yuuri asked, voice hushed like it was too mortifying a thing to suggest. Victor’s eyebrows raised, heart stopping just the smallest bit to be hearing the word love come out of Yuuri’s mouth, but Victor liked to think he recovered well.
‘Yuuri, you wound me,’ Victor said, dramatically waving his free hand like an opera prima donna. ‘I can’t believe you’d be so embarrassed by someone thinking such a thing. Do you find me that repulsive?’
It was teasing. Teasing.
(It most certainly not flirting).
‘Y-you know that’s not it!’ Yuuri snapped, reaching out to grab Victor’s hand before it waved into one of the passer’s by. Victor laughed, because he couldn’t help it but that shut right up the moment Yuuri’s fingers happened to link with his. They both stopped in their tracks, hands awkwardly together in front of them.
Yuuri looked up at Victor briefly, before bolting. He untangled himself entirely, taking a large step back to put some distance between them. Victor stayed where he was, hand still outstretched where just moments ago, it had been holding Yuuri’s. Carefully, Victor composed himself, watching Yuuri and waiting. Yuuri shuffled from one foot to the other, figdeting with the buttons of his soft blue cardigan.
‘Sorry,’ Yuuri said quietly, giving Victor a weak smile. ‘I just mean that it wouldn’t be very appropriate, you know?’
Inappropriate because Victor was Yuuri’s coach. And Yuuri had a boyfriend, who would likely not appreciate rumours of Yuuri shacking up with Victor for a night in a love hotel.
But…
‘We won’t be in a love hotel,’ Victor pointed out, knowing Yuuri would still try to fight him so barrelling on before Yuuri could argue any further. ‘And I’ll tweet from the hotel we do end up staying in. Then everyone will know that while we did stay the night, it was not anywhere remotely inappropriate. How’s that?’
‘Well…’ Yuuri said, casting another longing glance around the stalls as they started to move into its nighttime festivities. The music was getting louder, more laughter. Victor hovered, leaning forward so he was the one looking up at Yuuri now. Yuuri nibbled on his bottom lip. ‘Okay. If you promise.’
‘I cross my heart,’ Victor said, crossing his heart earnestly for Yuuri to see. Yuuri laughed; a bright, airy noise that made Victor feel like he was dying. Because Victor wished he could make Yuuri laugh like that always and the fact that the one person who’s actual job it was to do that wasn’t around made Victor practically seethe.
As far as Victor was concerned, someone two thousand miles away in Bangkok who was most certainly not here did not deserve the position and really, Victor was just being a good friend by stepping up as the new Person Who Makes Katsuki Yuuri Laugh. Yuuri deserved someone who was right here, after all.
It was what any good friend would do, right?
And as Yuuri’s very good friend, Victor intended to give Yuuri the most perfect date he could manage out here in Nakasu.
(Not date date, mind. Just a friend-date. A platonic adventure between two completely platonic friends who just so happened, every now and then, to fall asleep on each other in the lounge of Yuuri’s inn and stare a bit too long during training).
And if things happened to take a turn towards the more romantic, well, Victor could hardly be blamed for that, now could he? Love was a force of nature after all. Like rainbows.
(Or hurricanes).
The evening fell into a very easy rhythm then. One Victor’s heart was beginning to beat in tandem to, he was growing so familiar with it. The banter between them was always good, but there was something about the music around them. The fact they were so far from what was comfortable, relying on each other’s good humour to light the way forward. Neither of them knew Nakasu, arms linked as the night turned dark and the sake warm in their bellies from the bar in the centre of the festival that acted as their magnetic North.
(That hadn’t strictly been speaking Victor’s plan, but Yuuri had been fishing his phone out a lot more often than he had over the last few weeks and every time Victor saw the shagging thing, he felt a stiff drink was well in order).
Victor’s heart was pulling some extra shifts in the grand scheme to build a wall around itself lest things not work out, as Yuuri was looking more delicious with every minute. Sake coloured Yuuri’s cheeks red, like sweet liqueur cherries for tea back home. Victor kept reaching out to touch, not able to stop himself from patting Yuuri’s cheeks every time Yuuri said something charming. Which was often, as Yuuri was talking a mile a minute with a sake every other half of one.
Yuuri’s accent was doing this funny thing to Victor’s name, as Yuuri called it loudly when Victor found himself nearly wandering into people as they walked from stall to stall after finally abandoning the bar.
Victor’s name jumped in Yuuri’s mouth- one, two, three, a quad in a name. Almost perfect on the landing except Yuuri kept missing his mark. Namely, Victor’s mouth.
Victor was drunk. Victor knew this for certain, as not only had things began to feel a little fuzzy around their blushing red edges, but also Yuuri had just told him.
‘Victor~’ Yuuri cooed in the spinning top accent again, grinning broadly like the cat that caught the cream. Victor rather liked the idea of cream right about now. Preferably piped in a pretty, little rose right on Yuuri’s- ‘You’re drunk.’
‘I’m Russian. Not drunk,’ Victor said proudly, wondering why Yuuri was leaning away from him only to realise he was the one doing the leaning. He’d tried to correct course, but ended up heading too far. Yuuri caught him easily, hand in hand. Yuuri’s eyes were the colour of chocolate. Victor decided to tell him so.
‘Okay, I think it’s time for the hotel,’ Yuuri laughed, putting an arm under Victor’s and supporting him. Victor felt like he was filled with something buzzing, numerous and very, very hot. Itching beneath his skin and Victor grinned, feeling ticklish with it as he sank into Yuuri’s reassuring weight. ‘Victor, you’re going to crush me!’
‘You’d catch me!’ Victor said, confident of such. ‘You’ve carried me around dance floors!’
‘I wish,’ Yuuri sighed and Victor frowned. That was a very odd thing to say.
Victor intended to say as much, but when he tossed his head to get his annoying fringe out of his face, (what was the point in cutting all that hair off it was still going to be in the way?), Victor spotted something a few stalls down. He jumped on the spot, feeling considerably more steady on his feet. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand, yanking his adorable student down the path.
‘Yuuri! Look!’ Victor cried, not sure he’d ever felt so happy as right now, Yuuri was holding his hand very tightly and right in front of them was a small bath filled a colourful and odd collection of; ‘ Rezinovyy utenok!’
Victor looked to Yuuri, who was looking at him with that scrunchy face again. Victor reached out and poked Yuuri right on the tip of his nose.
‘What? Why you look at me like that?’
Yuuri laughed, reaching up to carefully take Victor’s hand and move it away. ‘Rubber ducks. You nearly dislocate my shoulder to show me rubber ducks?’
Victor wasn’t entirely following what the issue was here, but Yuuri was now turning to the man behind the bathtub and speaking in Japanese. And oh. That was good. Except it wasn’t good. No, not good. Very not good because Yuuri with his cheeks like that, his hair all scruffy and speaking Japanese was well hot. Victor nearly said so, because Victor was feeling it. Something very interested in the way Yuuri said arigato made Victor’s stomach feel like a coil was turning very tight and screwing down, down, down, right down to Victor’s-
‘Here you go,’ Yuuri said, handing over a small net. Like the kind to catch goldfish, only the net didn’t look right. Victor frowned at it, wondering what exactly wasn’t right. ‘You have to catch as many ducks as possible before the paper tears. Put the ones you catch in the bowl here.’
‘What do I win?’ Victor asked, perking up as his brain sluggishly put things together at last. Yuuri shrugged and that thing in Victor’s belly burnt red hot as Yuuri’s head was at an angle, making his snarky little grin look practically lewd.
‘I’ll surprise you,’ Yuuri purred and he definitely purred because Victor was vibrating all over and Victor felt he really should drink more often. Especially with Yuuri, because there was being drunk and there was being whatever it was that was happening now.
(Really, Victor should’ve been more careful).
It took a bit for Victor to find what he felt was the best angle in achieving the most amount of ducks in one swoop, when suddenly he jumped as Yuuri was leaning quite close. So close, Victor could smell him and Victor’s heart stopped.
‘What colour duck is the best duck?’
‘Yellow,’ Victor breathed, turning his face and goodness. Yuuri was awfully close. Victor kept staring at his lips, knowing there was a reason he shouldn’t be doing that but couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was. Yuuri hummed thoughtfully, watching Victor through his lashes.
‘I don’t know. I like the blue ones best.’
Blue was a terrible colour for a rubber duckie. ‘Why?’
‘Blue’s my favourite colour,’ Yuuri said and was he blushing? Or were they were just leaning too close to the stall lantern? Victor felt like he was swaying, blinking in confusion as Yuuri reached out with a steadying hand on Victor’s lower back. He must have been indeed swaying. ‘All my favourite things are blue.’
‘Your glasses are blue,’ Victor pointed out, but Yuuri just pulled a face.
‘Can’t think of anything else?’ Yuuri said and Victor could tell Yuuri was asking him something but that was about as far as Victor and the sake could make it. Victor watched Yuuri’s eyes, dark and also shiny. Both, at the same time. Yuuri was so talented.
‘My favourite is brown,’ Victor said and Yuuri’s raised an eyebrow. Victor pouted at Yuuri. Victor had always been jealous of people who could do that. ‘Makkachin is brown.’
‘That all?’ Yuuri asked and Victor was debating just how much to reveal at this point. They were close, they had a nice time so far. They were both a little drunk, (maybe one more than the other, but Victor would never admit it outright). Why not now?
(Except it seemed… Victor couldn’t put his finger on it. But the more Victor thought about it, the more he wished he had more of a bearing of what exactly was happening because if this was going to be the night Yuuri realised he was actually in love with Victor and not Phichit fucking Chulanont, Victor would rather be sober for it).
Yuuri did look gorgeous though.
(Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, now could they?)
‘No,’ Victor said confidently, turning back to the duckies because it seemed like the thing to do. Give Yuuri some space, let him come to Victor. Yeah, that sounded right. Didn’t it? Victor wished his head could just stop spinning for a moment so he could get his bearings. ‘I like other things that are brown, too. But they don’t make brown duckies.’
‘It’s a shame,’ Yuuri said and Victor had to agree. Maybe Victor could google some tiny spectacles and give whatever duckie he happened to capture in this frankly impractical paper net some Yuuri-ness. Any duckie would be lucky to get some Yuuri-ness.
‘Maybe I’ll get the red one,’ Victor suggested, readying to swoop down on the little duckie gathering that floated in the corner. ‘Then he’ll match your Eros costume!’
‘Rubber ducks aren’t very sexy, Victor.’
‘You’re more than enough to make up for any rubber duckie,’ Victor said, plunging in for the kill with his net.
‘Hardly!’ Yuuri squeaked, retreating and why did he always do that? Victor followed after him a bit, all thoughts of ducks, (yellow, brown or otherwise), put on pause. ‘You’re the one that- you know!’ Yuuri waved vaguely. ‘The one with the talent and the showing up here, all cool. And fit. And sexy. You’re the sexy one.’
Victor perked up instantly and really wished Yuuri didn’t notice how his voice cracked; ‘Sexy? You think I’m sexy?’
Yuuri shuffled, bottom lip stuck out. ‘I can see why people would find you sexy. I guess.’
That certainly wasn’t a no. Victor grinned, pleased.
(Was Phichit sexy? Victor didn’t think so. Cute, yes alright Victor may be beat there. But sexy? Victor was pretty solid when it came to sexy).
‘If I’m so sexy, why don’t you want people to think we stayed in a love hotel? You know, asides from the obvious,’ Victor asked bitterly, sake making him bold and Yuuri made the most endearing sputtering noise. Victor grinned, before his face fell entirely when he looked at the bath to see his net had vanished. The paper had soaked through, it seemed. ‘Oh dear. I don’t think I’m very good at this game.’
‘Is the obvious answer not a good enough one?’ Yuuri asked and he sounded very fuuny to Victor. Victor looked away from his sad excuse for a net to see Yuuri was staring off down the path, away from Victor.
Guilt kicked Victor hard in the gut, but only because the drunkenness prevented it from getting below the belt where Victor felt it would’ve gone had it had the chance. Victor was being an asshole. Of course the obvious answer was good enough for Yuuri, how mean did Victor want to be? A boyfriend wasn’t something to be discarded so easily. Victor wouldn’t want someone to do it to him.
(But it wouldn’t happen to him, Victor thought stubbornly and apologetically returning his net to the vendor. He and Yuuri were special. Right?)
‘Yuuri?’
‘It’s not nice to tease me, Victor,’ Yuuri said, looking at Victor and oh.
Oh no.
Something was wrong. Victor knew it instantly and now he really wished he was sober. Yuuri was standing very straight, shoulders up. He was so tense Victor had half a mind to shake him lest he pull something before they went back to training. Yuuri wasn’t quite frowning, but he didn’t look happy. Victor really didn’t know the word for the expression on Yuuri’s face.
‘Well, I couldn’t be with you anyway,’ Victor said because it was true, but Yuuri was now very silent and Victor didn’t like that at all. ‘Yuuri-’
‘I’m going back to the hotel,’ Yuuri announced and Victor saw to his absolute horror that Yuuri looked like he was about to cry. Victor went to follow him, but Yuuri rubbed at his face with one hand and shoved at Victor with the other. ‘No. I want to go on my own. We’ll talk l-later.’
And then Yuuri turned on his heel and left.
Victor watched his retreating back, watching as Yuuri fished out his phone again and feeling nauseous for all the wrong reasons. Victor was not entirely sure how everything could’ve gone so wrong so fast, but there he was- standing in the wreckage of it.
Whatever Victor had done, at least Yuuri had someone to call about it. The only person Victor would possibly want to talk to was halfway up the street, rounding the corner. And gone.
Victor heard the music before anything else.
There was the low hum of brass and swinging piano coming from the ajar door of Minako’s studio. The bopping tempo had Victor pausing for a moment, as he suddenly doubted his knowledge that Yuuri would be the one using the studio at this time. It was certainly unlike anything he'd heard from Yuuri’s playlists before. He paused for only a moment though, before taking a breath and deciding that seeing Yuuri would be worth any potential embarrassment at interrupting someone else’s session.
Victor shouldn't have doubted himself.
Yuuri was just stretching in extension, but the music flowed through his whole body. Like he could swing his stomach to the drop of the piano, or bend his leg to the breath of a trumpet. One leg back and up in perfect arabesque. Victor stood in the doorway, again catching himself too late for staring (for what? The two billionth time?) as Yuuri straightened up against the barre, catching Victor’s gaze through the mirror.
They hadn’t been alone together since the train back from Nakasu that morning, the trip passing in stilted conversation about training as they made their way back to Hasetsu. Yuuri had sat across the carriage from Victor, holding his coat on his lap like a physical barrier. Like there could not possibly be any more space between them. Every time their eyes met, Yuuri would look away hurriedly. Victor didn’t remember much from the night before, exactly, and what he did remember wasn’t quite in order. But Victor knew with certainty that he’d never get Yuuri’s crying face out of his head for however long Victor lived.
When they arrived back home, Yuuri had vanished to the point that after Victor had showered and sufficiently punished himself by reliving the night over and over again, Victor had to ask Mari for where Yuuri might’ve gone. Mari gave Victor a sympathetic look before pointing in Minako’s direction, and thus Victor found himself here.
As always, it was like magic. The way Yuuri looked at Victor.
Yuuri jumped, turning in his socked feet to face Victor. He made an aborted move as the jazzy song continued, but he seemingly stopped himself, arms folding in front of his chest at first. Then, he leaned back and held the barre awkwardly. Hips canted out, legs crossed and back arched. If Victor thought for one moment that Yuuri knew what he was doing, then he might’ve had more to say than… well, he’d have had something other than the aimless gawking he was doing now.
Victor was supposed to be apologising, but...
‘Hi,’ was all Yuuri said but Victor could feel himself blushing already.
It wasn't really Victor’s fault this time. The deck was definitely stacked against him with Yuuri looking so damn perfect. He was in a pair of yoga style leggings, thick socks bunched just under his knees and a ridiculously cute t-shirt that had the faded print of Wayne University peeling along the chest. Top that all off with Yuuri’s crooked glasses and brown eyes wide, catching the studio light? Victor never really had a shot in hell of keeping it together.
God, Victor was the worst person alive to have someone so utterly lovely before him and knowing Victor had been the reason said person felt they had to hide from him.
This guilt was entirely why Victor forgot to say pretty much anything, prompting Yuuri to frown at him across the studio.
‘Victor, is everything okay?’ he asked and Victor replied rather gracefully along the lines of um.
Um.
(Over seventeen years of English lessons, a whole shagging lifetime of Russian, and the best Victor could come up with was fucking um).
Victor winced before he mentally kicked himself for the sheer satisfaction of it. Then he debated actually kicking himself as Yuuri just tilted his head in confusion back at him and Christ, Victor was really fucking up this whole - I fancy you but you're my student so I'm trying to be very professional about it- thing. Admittedly, Victor hadn't been following the rule book to the t he probably should've but still, he'd followed most of it and there were brownie points in there somewhere for that.
Brownie points he probably lost last night, but Victor was on a mission to make things right.
‘I wanted to apologise,’ Victor said and Yuuri ran a hand through his hair, looking nervous.
‘You have nothing to apologise for,’ Yuuri said, sounding sheepish. ‘It was me. I just get caught up in my own head sometimes. You didn’t do anything wrong.’
Victor highly doubted that. ‘I hurt your feelings.’
Yuuri winced and Victor stepped closer, unable to stop himself. ‘My feelings aren’t your responsibility, Victor.’
Right. Yuuri had someone for that already.
And if it was one thing Victor had learned over the last twenty-four hours, it was that despite how much Victor felt, he could hardly be trusted to hold something as delicate as Yuuri’s heart with such clumsy fingers. He could barely balance Yuuri as a coach and Victor felt ashamed. He was letting his feelings for Yuuri get in the way and it was the one thing Victor hadn’t wanted to let happen.
‘You’re not my responsibility, Yuuri,’ Victor said, suddenly awkward in a way he and Yuuri never usually were. He hovered, watching the way Yuuri was watching him right back. Victor stumbled over his words. ‘You’re my- you’re my person.’
Yuuri blinked. Once. Twice.
‘Your person?’
‘Yes,’ Victor said, wanting Yuuri to understand. ‘You’re my student and I want you to know, I take being your coach very seriously-’
‘I know that,’ Yuuri said kindly, but Victor kept going.
‘But you’re more than that,’ Victor said cautiously, swallowing around the words he couldn’t say. Yuuri froze, like a deer caught in headlights and Victor proceeded carefully. ‘You’re my friend. The best one I’ve ever had, I think. Except for Makka. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. Not if I can help it. So I’m sorry.’
Victor sighed, one song fading out and another starting into something with a hoppy piano beat. He looked down at his feet, waiting for Yuuri to make of that what he would. Frankly, Victor felt he couldn’t have gone any further arse over tit these last few hours, but if Victor had to apologise a thousand more times, in a thousand more ways, he would.
Victor started slightly when Yuuri touched him, silent in his socks. Yuuri was looking up at Victor with his big, brown eyes and a small smile. ‘Take your shoes off.’
‘Why?’
‘I want you to dance with me. We haven’t danced together proper yet,’ Yuuri said, stepping away to give Victor some room to do as he was told. Victor shuffled out of his loafers, folding up the end of his jeans so they didn’t trail under his ankles. Yuuri held his hand out and Victor would never have refused it. ‘Show me your moves, coach.’
Yuuri guided Victor’s hand up, into the leading position which Victor was about to question before thinking better of it. It didn’t do well to make assumptions, after all and Sochi was a long time ago. Things were different now. Victor’s tummy and heart decided to compete for who could suck its breath in tighter, making Victor feel a tad dizzy as Yuuri guided Victor’s other hand around Yuuri’s waist.
Yuuri was warm, from his stretching. Body humming under Victor’s fingers with muscle, skill. Victor looked over Yuuri’s head at where they were reflected back in Minako’s mirror. They looked so good together, Victor felt.
‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’ Victor said as Yuuri looked up at him, realising too late that he was supposed to be leading. Victor tried not to blush as he stepped forward, Yuuri following gracefully as a trumpet blared in over the mellow voice of the song’s singer.
‘I told you, you don’t have to be sorry,’ Yuuri said, raising up on his tip-toes as Victor turned him. They glided across the worn wood floors, bodies close. Hips brushing together and Victor felt like he was breaking out in pins and needles all over.
‘If this is what I get for being sorry though, I think I’ll apologise more often.’
Yuuri just laughed then, letting Victor lead as easily as Victor had let him in turn at Sochi. I’m weak for you, I can’t help it, the song chimed, drum beats punctuating the way Yuuri stretched a leg out behind him. Victor followed the momentum, spinning Yuuri closer. They lose the correct posture, the v between their bodies closing. Chest to chest, Yuuri taking small glances up at Victor from beneath his lashes.
B-A-B-Y, baby~
Yuuri’s hips were rolling, carrying the weight of Victor with them in perfect time to the song and Victor was this close to Yuuri all the time. On the ice, on the tamtami at dinner. But there was something just a little different now. Victor thought of Yuuri crying again and pulled Yuuri closer, arm almost an entire belt across Yuuri’s back.
(It really was so easy to forget there was anyone else in the world).
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘You can ask me anything you like,’ Victor said and it should probably worry him at this point how true such a thing was.
‘Have you ever been in love?’ Yuuri asked quietly, barely opening his lips around the words. Like he almost hoped Victor wouldn’t hear him. Victor raised his head, turning so Yuuri was almost folded in under his chin. Victor thought about his answer carefully. These were dangerous waters, he knew.
But what was life without a little risk?
‘Yes, I think so,’ Victor said at last and Yuuri’s hand on his arm twitched. The skin there prickled beneath Victor’s jumper.
‘You don’t know for certain?’
‘I’m still figuring it out, to be honest.’
Yuuri said nothing to that, but Victor felt they had come to some kind of agreement. The air settled around them, breathing against each other to the low jazz of the music. Victor’s heart heavy and sinking, down beneath the surface of something blue.
Yuuri knew, Victor was fairly sure now. If not entirely confident. And while he had clearly accepted Victor’s feelings, on some level, Yuuri didn’t seem inclined on returning them. All in all, Victor really couldn’t ask for more than that. It was greedy and ungrateful to the relationship he already had with Yuuri. Victor would need to step up now and show Yuuri that Victor was worth putting this faith in.
So Victor would do that. He thought so to himself as the music faded out, Yuuri not moving anywhere, seemingly comfortable with Victor guiding him into the next song. Victor would show Yuuri that he respected Yuuri’s decision, and that nothing between them as coach and student would change.
And come Cup of China, Victor would show Yuuri and Phichit that he was fine. It was all fine.
All of Victor’s good intentions marched to the cold front and died there instantly of exposure, because things were most definitely and surely not fine.
Phichit Chulanont in the flesh was something entirely different to Phichit Chulanont on the phone.
Phichit was just so fucking cute. Did he really have to be so cute? Victor had certainly not invited Chulanont to hot pot, but here he was and much as Victor was loathe to admit it, (and believe him, he was), the sullen look on Yuuri’s face he’d been sporting since stepping off the plane here in Bejing did lift upon seeing Phichit standing at the end of the table.
‘Yuuri!’ Phichit said brightly, smiling like the sun and Victor was burnt instantly by it. Yuuri shuffled along his seat in the booth, towards Phichit and Victor raised his hand in a wave. ‘So this is where you are! I was wondering when I’d run into you!’
‘I wasn’t hiding,’ Yuuri said, shrinking in on himself. Phichit laughed, before looking over to Victor and waving back.
‘Hello!’ Phichit said, giving Victor a quick polite bow. Bastard.
No, Victor reminded himself sternly as Yuuri and Phichit chatted. Not a bastard. Phichit was a perfectly pleasant person, it would seem and Victor was being mean when he had no right to be. It wasn't Phichit's fault that he was so cheery. Or cute. Or fucking twenty. Victor tried to remember his promise to himself, (and to Yuuri), to be the better man. But it was proving remarkably difficult in the wake of this… this nightmare.
‘He’s only five minutes away, Yuuri!’
‘I don’t know,’ Yuuri said quietly, fidgeting with a napkin on the table. ‘I don’t want to bother Ciao-Cio.’
‘Celestino?’ Victor asked, rapidly catching up with the conversation once he’d put a firm lid on the recurring thought to upturn the hot pot straight onto Phichit Chulanont’s lap.
(Never mind Phichit’s skating, Victor was more inclined in putting that area out of commission for the sake of Yuuri’s skating. Wouldn’t do if- well, hardly mattered. Just wouldn’t do).
Celestino would turn this into something where Victor was not likely to get shovelled into the role of third wheel and anyone who did that was more than welcome at Victor’s table. Because if left on his own, Victor knew for a fact that he would not be able to stop thinking about the way Yuuri grinned at Phichit's jokes. The way he pushed his hair back as Phichit spoke, like he was preening. The way Yuuri might sound, after Phichit kissed him. Or pressed him into a bed, dark hands wandering over Yuuri's olive skin, sliding between Yuuri's legs-
‘You should absolutely invite Celestino,’ Victor said, already reaching across the table to get a hand on Yuuri. ‘Come, Yuuri. You sit next to me and then Phichit can sit with his coach, da?’
Yuuri gave Victor an extremely panicked look, but he went where he was bidden as they all waited for Celestino to show up. Phichit sat down at once, happily taking off his coat and evidently getting comfortable, which Victor felt was a tad rude to just himself, but oh sodding well. Couldn’t be helped now.
Victor had to give it to Phichit though, he wasn’t one for being starstruck. Not the way Yuuri had been, anyway. Phichit was polite, but it was obvious he was far more interested in his boyfriend. Which Victor couldn’t entirely blame him for either, as if Victor was so lucky as to have a boyfriend like Yuuri, he wouldn’t be able to keep his attention him off Yuuri either.
(Not that Victor was having much luck with that even outside the role).
Celestino arrived and nearly threatened to be of no help by suggesting he leave, but Victor was insistent. Perhaps too insistent, as Yuuri was sending him accusatory looks the whole time Victor brandished hot pot like it might tempt Celestino into the booth. The wine did a better job, Celestino perching himself next to Phichit and Victor tried to relax.
Tried, being the operative word because despite all of Victor’s good intentions, sitting in front of Phichit Chulanont was as close to hell as the blasted things could’ve carried him.
Phichit was easy to laugh, easier to smile. He kept reaching over the table to show Yuuri something on his phone, or touch Yuuri. Just touch him. Just for the laugh, it would seem. Which of course, Phichit was entirely entitled to but it made the food taste like ash in Victor’s mouth. Victor’s efforts in conversation dwindled and with alarm, he realised that he was beginning to be side-lined to Celestino while Yuuri caught up with Phichit.
It hurt. It was so stupid, because Victor knew he didn’t have a blessed right to be upset, but it did. It really hurt to see the way Yuuri blushed at Phichit’s teasing, the way they shared stories so easily. The way Phichit would turn and say things like Well, Victor knows all about your bad experience with schnapps! and Victor would have to sit there, like a gormless idiot in the knowledge that no, Victor did not know such things as Yuuri had never told him.
So Victor ordered another bottle of wine. And then another, as he and Celestino only seemed to have two things in common and the only present of the two being they could both knock back wine like it was water.
‘Victor,’ Yuuri asked quietly, tone serious as Phichit left for the bathroom. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Great,’ Victor said from between his teeth, furiously watching Phichit walk away. ‘Why?’
‘Well, you’re hurting me?’ Yuuri said, unsure and Victor jumped, realising too late he’d been holding onto Yuuri’s thigh. When did that happen? Victor retreated backwards, sliding in his seat as the wine made his body too heavy for his brain to carry all by itself.
‘Shit,’ Victor said, holding his hands up. ‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to.’
‘It’s okay, you can hold onto me if you want,’ Yuuri said, before snapping his mouth shut. Victor blinked, curious but Yuuri looked away. ‘Just don’t pinch, okay?’
Victor took that to heart and proceeded to indeed, hold onto Yuuri as much as he wanted. Which was a lot. Preferably all over, especially as now Phichit was coming back and yeah, time to have another sip of that wine.
Now, Victor would be lying if he said he remembered everything that happened next. But he remembered Yuuri shoving his clothes into his hands at some point and that probably didn’t bode well. Victor woke up with his mouth feeling like the shag carpet of a bus, head pounding as Yuuri moved around the small hotel room. Victor shuffled under the covers, groaning.
‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Yuuri said loudly, walking over to peer down at where Victor was trying to bury himself a new grave in the hotel linen. ‘Check-in isn’t for another three hours, but I thought you might want to get some breakfast. Then I didn’t know if you’d be well enough or if I should order something for you or just get a coffee or-’
‘Yuuri~’ Victor said as sweetly as he could possibly manage while clearly dying. ‘You’re my star, my beautiful katsudon. But please, shut up for just a minute.’
Yuuri did exactly, but he did it with a huff which later on, Victor felt was fair enough.
‘When all this is over, we’re going to talk about your drinking habits.’
Victor neglected to mention how his drinking habits were directly related to his proximity to Yuuri’s relationship status. But only just.
(Victor was hungover, he wasn’t stupid).
(Well, not entirely).
Victor spent the morning after his shower downing coffee and carefully applying concealer. Yuuri lamented that it was distinctly unfair for Victor to look better than him hungover, but Victor could barely muster a response to that, as once they arrived at the arena, Yuuri was immediately accosted by an excited Phichit.
Fucker, Victor thought venomously as Phichit hovered around Yuuri like a pesky fly. One Victor would happily squash, if he had been a lesser man. But Victor was not a lesser man. He was the bigger one. A really big man, if Yuuri was interested. Just so Yuuri knew, that was all.
Seeing them together, touching and teasing, the way Yuuri sagged against Phichit’s shoulder when they hugged, it made Victor feel he was about to gawk up his entire morning’s worth of coffee. It just wasn’t fair. At least they hadn’t kissed yet, which Victor was grateful for. More than that, because if Victor had to sit through Phichit Chulanont putting his chapped, twenty-something lips on Yuuri, Victor may just snap and put an end to the whole thing.
With all the worrying about Phichit, Victor didn’t see Chris coming until it was too late.
‘You did that on purpose,’ Victor hissed, once he’d freed himself of the Russian ladies team that had made the journey. Chris gave an exaggerated moue of mock offence.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, cheri,’ Chris said, stretching an arm above his head in half-earnest warm up. He grinned wickedly. ‘What’s a little ass pinching between friends?’
‘Yuuri’s ass is not for pinching.’
‘Not by us, anyway,’ Chris said and Victor had to take a moment, breathing deeply through his nose to try and keep his composure. Going by the way Chris was watching Victor sharply, it didn’t go unnoticed.
‘Have you seen him?’ Victor asked, aiming for nonchalant and missing completely going by the critical glance Chris tossed his direction.
‘Chulanont?’ Chris replied for no other purpose apparently but to give Victor’s teeth a reason to grind together. Chris shrugged, smiling. ‘We may have exchanged a few words over the water table.’
‘What did you think?’ Victor said, nodding to a passing crew member who passed them with a smile. Chris shuffled next to him, leaning a bit closer.
‘You mean do I think you could take him?’ he suggested and Victor didn't dare answer that, lest he somehow admit that the thought may have crossed his mind.
‘No,’ he said, sticking his chin up defiantly. ‘I just mean… you know, what kind of person does he seem like to you? Is he-?
Funnier than me. Smarter than me. More charming?
Victor settled with nice.
Chris gave him a look of such genuine sympathy Victor felt physically grieved.
‘He was the pettiest, snarkiest, most up himself skater I've ever met,’ Chris said as blithely as though he were describing the weather. Victor turned, eyes wide with surprise and perhaps most guiltily, hope.
‘Really?’ he squeaked, Chris’ entire expression melting from teasing to utterly flat.
‘No. That’s you,’ Chris replied smartly and Victor groaned, knowing he probably deserved that.
Before he could retort, however, Victor was interrupted by a hiss from Yuuri across the room. Yuuri was bent over, running his hand over his leg and Victor moved at once. ‘What is it? What’s happening?’
‘Nothing,’ Yuuri said, though he was frowning. ‘Just a tense muscle from an injury.’
‘Injury?’ Victor repeated, aghast. ‘What injury, when?’
‘Yuuri!’ Phichit Chulanont was there, because of course. What doting boyfriend wouldn’t be? Phichit had only been absent for the last twelve sodding months. ‘Is it your knee?’
‘How do you know?’ Victor asked, but Yuuri was already nodding, easing down onto one of the mats provided for stretching. Both Phichit and Victor hovered, unsure as Yuuri stretched the leg out in front of him.
‘College,’ Phichit answered, but he wasn’t paying much attention to Victor. Instead, Phichit was maneuvering himself over Yuuri and Victor choked on his own breath as Phichit sat down, straddling over Yuuri’s leg. ‘Need help?’
‘Yeah, just a little,’ Yuuri said, letting Phichit take over rubbing at his knee. Victor watched, feeling considerably ruffled. ‘Thanks, Phichit.’
‘Yes, thank you, Phichit,’ Victor said, forcing a smile on his face. Phichit didn’t look up, which only grated Victor more. ‘But I can take over now.’
‘Really, Victor, it’s fine!’ Yuuri said, voice squeaking in that way that had Victor’s knees go weak ‘It’s just a twinge from when I damaged a ligament ages ago. You don’t have to help, it would actually be... weird if you did it.’
Well, wasn’t that just something.
‘Right. Of course,’ Victor grumbled sourly to himself as Yuuri turned back to conversation with Phichit. ‘I’m just your coach, after all. Makes far more sense for the other guy to do it.’
Victor walked away then as frankly, he felt he could not be held responsible for his actions if he had to stand there and see Yuuri get felt up by someone who was of course well within their rights to do such a thing but damn it all if it didn’t just set Victor on fire in all the worst ways.
‘Tut, tut,’ Chris said as Victor stormed past, looking far too much like he was enjoying himself. ‘Not looking too professional there, coach.’
‘Suce ma bite,’ Victor snapped miserably, wondering if there still time to hang himself before the short. If anything, Victor knew at least Yuri Plisetsky would be pleased and someone deserved to be happy in this whole mess.
Yuuri was first in the short since yesterday.
Things should be going well. Things should be fine. But Victor knew something was off. He didn’t want to pry, because a part of him was half-afraid that maybe Phichit and Yuuri had fallen out over something. (The other half of this thought was a touch closer to hopeful than afraid, but Victor would never admit it). But whatever it was, it had Yuuri tense. Nervous, and wound so tight that even the odd word from Victor seem to set Yuuri off without meaning to.
Victor didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to sidestep around whatever Yuuri was telling himself in his head without showing his cards, and that would likely just make everything worse. Yuuri hadn’t sleep; hadn’t slept twice over, as he’d clearly worked himself up in what was supposed to have been a nap. Victor used to sleep when he got nervous, but it didn’t work for Yuuri and now Victor watched as Yuuri hit the ice in warm-up with a thud that echoed.
Victor sighed and regretted doing so instantly, as he had done so loudly without meaning to. He and Yuuri should’ve been a united front, but the other coaches in the awning were watching Victor with looks that mingled from bafflement to sympathy. Victor didn’t need sympathy.
But he had to admit, Victor was rather baffled himself.
‘Just warm up nice and easy, okay?’ Victor suggested once Yuuri was off the ice. Yuuri said nothing, dark eyes fixed on his feet. Victor could see the bags under them and not for the first time that morning, felt a very real twinge of worry. Victor was not used to that feeling. He didn’t know where to put it, so it felt like Victor was carrying it around awkwardly in his hands, leaving him no room to catch Yuuri from where he was spiraling.
Yuuri moved off to a soft mat, silent as the grave and looking just as dour. Victor crossed his arms, just resisting the urge to tap his fingers. If Yuuri was nervous, than Victor couldn’t let Yuuri know Victor was nervous, too. Victor had to hold it together. After a while, Chris walked over and he looked serious, which only served to make Victor feel even more uneasy.
Chris stopped next to Victor and Victor waited, finding it hard to focus on anything but the way Yuuri’s hands were shaking against where he placed them on the wall.
‘You have to tell him,’ Chris said at last, eyes still fixed on where Yuuri was stretching his glutes against the far wall. Victor followed his gaze, familiar ache settling in his stomach as he took Yuuri in.
‘I can't do that and you know it,’ Victor replied tersely, wincing when he heard his tone. None of this was Chris’ fault. But it was proving difficult to keep the bitterness reigned in.
‘It's not fair to do this to yourself,’ Chris said after Victor had caught his breath. ‘It's not fair to him either.’
‘No, what isn't fair is Yuuri having a coach he can't trust. He's already worried I'm distracted,’ Victor said miserably, watching as Yuuri switched legs, rolling his shoulders between. ‘This isn’t the right time. Yuuri needs his coach.’
‘Perhaps you need this more,’ Chris suggested and Victor clenched his own arms so tightly, he hurt himself. But the anger bled out anyway.
‘Aren’t you the one who told me to bury this?’
‘That was before I saw the pair of you,’ Chris said at length and Victor looked up, wary. But Chris was still watching Yuuri, chewing on his cheek. ‘I don’t know about right or wrong, but you gave up skating for this, Victor. It would want to be damn worth it.’
There was a touch of something acid in Chris’ voice, but Victor didn’t get much chance to consider it, as the tinny voice of the announcer was calling Chris to the ice. Chris gave Victor a quick pat on the back before vanishing off to his own skate. Yuuri didn’t even notice.
But everyone else was very, very aware of the way Yuuri was steadily coming apart and Victor was sure he’d seen something like this before, but the memory just wouldn’t come back to him.
It came back to him the moment Yuuri burst into tears, down in the dark and damp space of the car park.
‘Just have more faith in me than I do!’ Yuuri pleaded and Victor had promised, had fucking swore to himself he would not make Yuuri cry again and yet here Victor was, making the same mistakes.
And once more, just for good measure as staring at Yuuri’s blubbering, red face and snotty nose, the only thing Victor could think was not I’m sorry, but I love you.
Given everything- the upset, the disappointment, the fury Victor felt at himself for letting what should’ve been a small crush bloom into some great, terrible love that now had him entangled and Yuuri feeling alone- Victor found it impossible to think of the world out the two concurrent points that were himself and Yuuri.
Victor watched Yuuri skate with his heart in his hand, treacherous thing following Yuuri around the ice and Victor wondered what they could do now. He promised he wouldn’t leave Yuuri, and Victor would keep that promise as even the thought of leaving now made Victor feel cold. But there was no denying that how Victor felt was beginning to interfere with their professional relationship and Yuuri was understanding, but he shouldn’t be the one holding Victor’s hand.
Victor needed to-
Oh.
Oh.
Victor missed the last part of the program, eyes still fixed on the scratched patch of ice where Yuuri had crashed after his attempted quadruple flip. A quadruple flip. Victor’s flip. Yuuri was still skating but Victor put his face in his hands, halfway convinced that at some point in the last three minutes, Victor had somehow lost the plot entirely.
At least Yuuri has kicked his senses off to boot as well.
Yuuri was so monumentally stupid. Victor should be furious. A quad flip, having never practiced? Never attempted? What if Yuuri had tripped over the edge? What if he’d done some serious damage? Victor could not believe Yuuri would be that careless with himself just to prove a point, except that he could. Victor really could. Yuuri once nearly broke his nose for stubborness. Why wouldn’t he do the same with his legs?
Or Victor’s heart?
Victor ran. There was so much of everything, swelling beneath Victor’s skin like some blistering, sparking explosion that was too bright to look at directly. The ground pounded beneath his shoes, the audience fading away to a dull buzz. Yuuri was moving, too, Victor could see. Closer, they were always coming closer.
Victor wanted to strangle him. He wanted to shout, to hit Yuuri over the head and ask him what had he been thinking. But then Yuuri was right in front of him, smiling like a dope and looking shattered but so fucking proud like the sod hadn’t just given Victor the biggest heart attack of his life.
‘I did great, right?’ Yuuri said, shameless. Victor laughed to himself.
Stupid, crazy boy.
Then Victor lost all reason, it seemed. But kissing Yuuri felt like that quad flip. They were weightless, Yuuri’s shocked expression a wet breath against Victor’s lips and it was quite probably the best moment of Victor’s life and also, epically, the most stupid.
Not that Victor realised the latter until they were off the ice. Victor held Yuuri’s hand like a lover would, unable to pull the grin off his face throughout interviews. Laughed unapologetically at the expression Chris threw at him from across the rink. Victor felt indestructible, like whatever silly complications he knew existed couldn’t possibly hurt he and Yuuri now when Yuuri had a silver medal around his neck and Victor had the bruise of Yuuri’s kiss on his lips. But the dazed, dizzy feeling of everything that happened instantly paled the moment he saw Phichit Chulanont hop down off the podium and back into the real world.
Fuck.
‘I didn’t mean to kiss him!’ Victor said, because well… it was technically true. Phichit paused where he had been skating up to where Victor and Yuuri had been standing together at the rink edge, instantly frowning and Victor prepared himself.
Phichit opened his mouth, face twisted; ‘You-’
‘You didn’t mean to?’ Yuuri said, voice raw. Victor looked at him, unsure what to do with the way Yuuri was watching him. ‘Then what were you trying to do?’
Yuuri was angry. Victor knew now what it looked like when Katsuki Yuuri was angry and Victor felt his heart plummet about sixty odd storeys before acquainting itself with the ground in the most painful fashion possible. Right. Of course. Of course Yuuri was angry, what else would Yuuri be? And what else was Yuuri supposed to do in the wake of those cameras, those microphones? Confess that Victor, his coach, had completely lost his marbles and kissed him without permissions?
‘I’m sorry,’ Victor said genuinely, looking between both Yuuri and Phichit. Phichit stepped off the ice, still quite short even in his skates. He put an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, watching with Victor with justified suspicion. ‘I’m sorry I kissed you.’
Yuuri looked stricken and Victor didn’t have the chance to figure out what that was supposed to mean, as Phichit suddenly hit him on the arm. Hard. Victor winced, yelping with surprise as Yuuri abruptly left without another word. Victor went to go, but Phichit stepped between them, eyes fierce and Victor knew he deserved it, but it was very hard staring down the angry, Thai face of it.
‘I don’t think so,’ Phichit said waspishly, pointing an accusing finger. ‘I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.’
And just like that, the best moment of Victor’s life took a sharp left turn into the worst because the best part of his life had just left the arena. Victor was getting awfully sorry with how often Yuuri seemed to walk away from him.
Victor practiced what he was going to say a solid twenty or so times before finally deciding to go and find Phichit’s room, where Victor knew Yuuri would be.
The time for being a ponce was over. Victor needed to man the fuck up. He was a five time world championship and over the last few months, had built up a nice little fantasy in his own head about how he was the superior choice for Yuuri. But when the time had come, Victor had let Yuuri down. Again. That was something Victor needed to take responsibility for.
And that started right now, in this Hilton Hotel with the probable love of Victor’s life lurking in room 234 with his boyfriend.
(Victor had never deserved the title to begin with).
Victor knocked on the door, waiting a few moments before trying again when no one answered. The door swung open to reveal an even shorter Phichit Chulanont, (sans skates), looking freshly showered and red-faced. Victor swallowed around the sting in his throat that suspiciously resembled bile as his mind was flooded with unwanted images of how Phichit came to look to ruffled.
The jealousy winded Victor mute.
Phichit gave Victor a look up and down, before leaning against the doorframe and closing the door in the space left in the doorwsy so Victor couldn’t see into the room. Phichit pursed his lips, watching Victor expectantly.
‘Is Yuuri here?’ Victor asked but Phichit just raised his eyebrows.
‘No flowers. Most men bring flowers when they cock up, you know,’ Phichit said blithely and Victor just managed not to flinch from that, which he felt was impressive in itself. Phichit clicked his tongue. ‘Yuuri’s asleep.’
‘Oh, okay,’ Victor said and a part of him was relieved to hear that, but unfortunately, that just left him and Yuuri’s boyfriend without a buffer. And Victor wasn’t entirely sure if that was better or worse. ‘I owe you an explanation for today.’
‘Not just me,’ Phichit said darkly, but he was still there, listening and Victor had to hand that to him. Victor had come to know enough about himself over the last few months that if the roles had been reversed, Victor would have been a lot less forgiving.
(A whole lot less, to be honest).
‘I know, and I’ll talk to Yuuri, too. But there are things I need to say to you as well,’ Victor continued and Phichit looked confused for a moment, which Victor could understand. If it was Victor, he’d be wondering what the potential homewrecker of his relationship had to say for himself as well. ‘Listen, I know what I did today was out of order. I do. But you have to believe me when I tell you that Yuuri is the best thing to ever happen to me. Not just in skating, but- but for everything, I think. I’m still figuring out what to do with that feeling, I guess.’ Phichit was listening patiently, his standoffish demeanour slowly thawing and so Victor kept going. ‘I promise you, I will be Yuuri’s coach first and I don’t want anything to ever get in the way of that.’
Victor paused then, hovering on the edge of what he might say. But sure, better to be hanged for a sheep than a lamb.
‘I have feelings for Yuuri,’ Victor said and Phichit’s mouth fell open, probably shocked at Victor’s gall and Victor couldn’t blame Phichit for that. ‘But I promise you, I’m working on keeping them in check. It’s inappropriate, I know and not fair. On either of you. I want you to know though, you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t try anything on with Yuuri.’
‘Wait-’ Phichit said, but Victor raised his hand, knowing that if stopped now, he’d chicken out and Yuuri deserved better. Victor closed his eyes, taking a breath.
‘But I have to be honest with you, Phichit. Man to man,’ Victor said steadily, hands equally still as the tone of his voice as never had Victor ever been more certain of something. ‘I’m sorry I kissed your boyfriend, but I can’t find it in myself to regret kissing Yuuri. Because I’ve wanted to since I’ve met him.’
Silence.
Victor opened his eyes, peeking through his lashes first in case Phichit happened to punch him, which Victor was half-expecting. But nothing came and when Victor looked proper, Phichit was staring at Victor with large, round eyes and mouth hanging open. Phichit gaped for a moment, seemingly struggling to think of what to say before finally;
‘You kissed my what?’
Victor panicked.
‘Sorry! Um, lover? Partner?’ Victor suggested as really, Victor didn’t know what Yuuri or Phichit called each other and Victor hoped he hadn’t offended. Victor didn’t know the Thai for boyfriend. Victor didn’t even know the Japanese. ‘Significant other?’
‘Ohh, my god,’ Phichit said, voice cracking under disbelief at Victor’s spluttering, which only made Victor stammer more as he struggled to find another word for it. Victor shook his head, pushing at his fringe nervously.
‘Look, never mind. It’s hardly the point,’ Victor said, feeling his cheeks burning and he thanked God Yuuri wasn’t here for this after all. Though Phichit would likely confess everything after, but whatever. At least Victor wouldn’t have to be there to relive the mortification twice over. ‘I just want you to know that even though it meant something to me, one kiss isn’t worth anything compared to what you guys have. Not when you get to kiss Yuuri whenever you want, right?’
Phichit seemed to chew on that for a moment before he smiled. Laughed even and Victor felt like that was definitely below the belt, but he was hardly in the position to be taking the moral high ground here. ‘That is true, Victor. I mean, one little peck on the ice doesn’t really compare to the things I can do to Yuuri.’
Victor shifted on his feet, not at all interested in hearing such a thing but unsure how to politely remove himself without rendering his entire apology moot. Phichit shrugged, holding his hands up as he started counting things off on his fingers.
‘I mean, no one can cook for Yuuri like I can. I hope you know that,’ Phichit said seriously, though he was still smiling. ‘I give the best massages. And I know you said the kissing, but really, Yuuri is far more impressed with my-’
‘Alright, enough! Enough!’
Victor jumped at Yuuri’s voice, the door opening to reveal Yuuri standing there. He was furiously red and still in his free skate costume, though most of his hair had come undone. Victor knew he could catch flies in his mouth it fell so far open, but really, Victor just couldn’t think of anything to say as Yuuri stepped up to him, dark eyes intent.
‘Did you mean it?’ Yuuri asked softly, hands twisting anxiously over his chest. Victor resisted the urge to reach out and take them. Yuuri took a shaky breath. ‘About not regretting kissing me?’
Hope blossomed then, but Victor was sure there was something he was missing here, because Phichit was right there, and Victor had hoped he and Yuuri would be able to work things out in private. But maybe it was too much to ask and Victor was hardly in the position to be calling the shots here. Victor just focused on Yuuri instead. The swell of his lips, the soft down on the line of jaw.
‘Yes. I don’t regret it and I couldn’t, not for anything,’ Victor said truthfully, furiously keeping his hands to himself despite how much he wanted to reach out and steady the way Yuuri was swaying slightly. Poor thing, short in his socks. ‘I know you’re dating Phichit, and it’s fine. But I would be lying to you if I don’t tell you now that I will be thinking about kissing you every day for the rest of my life.’
Yuuri’s face melted, eyes turning glossy but he was smiling. It was a fragile thing, curling around shaking lips but Victor knew that if he hadn’t been in love before, he definitely was now. Yuuri covered his mouth with his hands, but his eyes betrayed that he was still smiling and Victor smiled back, unbidden because it was good when Yuuri was happy.
‘Oh, this is just cruel now,’ Phichit said dramatically and Victor started, shame flooding cold through him. Phichit looked at Yuuri, waving a hand at Victor manically. ‘Put the poor guy out of his misery, would you?’
Victor didn’t dare- he couldn’t possibly hope but Phichit was smiling. Smiling boded well. Victor looked to Yuuri, who now seemed to be both laughing and crying now. Victor watched, utterly lost as Yuuri giggled into his hands.
‘Victor, oh,’ Yuuri said between soft chuckles, before finally looking Victor in the eye while he wiped at a tear. ‘Phichit and I aren’t dating. We never have, I don’t know why you would ever think that.’
That took a few moments, but once that burrowed into Victor’s brain and decided to nest there like an unwelcome bullet to the head, Victor felt like the floor had given out from under him.
‘Yuuri, he’s going to faint,’ Phichit said and he may not be wrong, because Victor was definitely feeling quite dizzy. He reached out madly, grabbing onto Yuuri’s shoulders and trying not to let the horse get before the cart here because if this was a very, very cruel joke to pay Victor back for kissing Yuuri on international television, Victor needed to know.
‘You’re not dating,’ he said, like it were true. Yuuri nodded, giggling again and while it was quite cute, Victor wished Yuuri would take the way his mind was falling apart more seriously.
‘No, we’re not dating.’
‘So you mean to tell me that all this time, I could’ve had you to myself?’ Victor asked and Yuuri’s eyes narrowed, his smile going crooked with something brimming with the ghost of Sochi and Eros. Yuuri nodded, teeth flashing.
‘I was wondering what was taking you so long,’ Yuuri said and he sounded breathless already and that was the last of Victor’s self control.
Victor surged forward, cupping Yuuri’s face and kissing him. Kissing him long, deep and wet and listening to the way Yuuri whimpered beneath him. Yuuri twisted his hands around Victor’s waist, tugging him close and they met the middle. Yuuri was still laughing at him, but he was running out of breath fast the way Victor was eliciting moans of satisfaction out of him as Victor swept his tongue across Yuuri’s.
‘I have-’ Victor kissed Yuuri, put a hand in his hair as Yuuri got a hand up Victor’s shirt beneath his jacket, untucking it from his suit trousers. ‘-wanted to do this forever.’
‘M-me too,’ Yuuri gasped, kissing Victor sweetly as he leaned backwards and met resistance in the doorframe. Victor raised a leg, sliding it between Yuuri’s when they were interrupted by loud clapping. They both jumped, looking at where Phichit was bringing his hands together with a look of amused exasperation on his face.
‘Chuffed as I am for you, and I am,’ Phichit said, but he gestured out to the hallway. ‘But do you think you could move it to your own room? I think I’ve been involved in this enough.’
Victor couldn’t agree more, even if his opinion of Phichit had improved significantly in the last two minutes. He looked down to where Yuuri was staring up at him, eyes dark and lips parted. They were wet and it went straight between Victor's legs. Victor leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Victor loved Yuuri. Yuuri was single and he liked Victor back. Maybe even more than that, going by that quad flip. Yuuri licked his lips and it was a matchstick the light pad of Victor’s inhibitions.
‘Let’s go,’ Victor said, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and tugging him back down the hall. Yuuri followed, laughing and running up behind Victor so he could keep an arm around Victor’s waist.
They forgot Yuuri’s shoes and skates, but that was fine. Yuuri wouldn’t need them for what Victor had planned.
‘Why didn’t you tell me how you felt anyway?’ Yuuri asked hours later from the pillow on Victor’s hotel bed after Victor had explained his months of heartache. Yuuri was on his back, chest heaving and hand tracing idle circles on Victor’s back. Victor sighed happily from where he was lying on his stomach, too sated and comfortable to care how it was slightly ticklish.
‘It’s not cricket, is it?’ Victor answered, watching through his hair the way he could see a laugh brewing in how Yuuri’s eyes crinkled and his mouth curled under his teeth. ‘Going after someone else’s boyfriend.’
‘Hmm, I suppose,’ Yuuri said, before getting up and rolling over. He lay himself down along Victor’s back, kissing the back of Victor’s neck. His shoulders. Yuuri was so warm, his skin so soft. Well… not all of it, Victor noticed as he tilted his hips back. Yuuri whined softly. ‘But I don’t play cricket.’
‘You will with me,’ Victor said with a pout, but Yuuri was winning him over with more kisses. Wandering hands. Victor was intimately aware of everywhere they had touched already in the last few hours. They had been lying in the ruins of their hotel bed for a long while, passion slipping in and out like the tide as Victor tasted every part of Yuuri he could reach, let Yuuri undo him til Victor had sobbed. They should be spent, but Victor was already feeling the thorn tug of heat in his gut as Yuuri slipped close behind him.
‘You’re right,’ Yuuri said, grinding his hips down and Victor felt the way Yuuri’s cock pressed firm between against his ass. They’d already made love and really, they should start packing now, but... ‘I have a really jealous boyfriend, as it turns out. I shouldn’t wind him up.’
Victor made a small noise of displeasure for the teasing, but then Yuuri was helping Victor turn over, spreading Victor’s legs open so he could slip between them. Yuuri pushed Victor’s hair out of his face, kissing him as he lay down, chest to chest. It was hard, heady and Victor moaned into it, hands tearing down Yuuri’s back because he could. Because Victor was Yuuri’s boyfriend.
Honestly, how could Victor have doubted any of it for even a moment? With the way Yuuri was looking at him now, burning want and dripping affection, Victor couldn’t help but laugh at himself. No one else had never stood a chance.
‘We should pack.’
‘Or?’ Yuuri countered, raising that devilish eyebrow again and Victor nodded.
Yeah, or sounded good.