Chapter Text
Satarou let out a shout of pain as he stumbled back from the hit, his nose gushing blood. Narrowing his eyes, he wiped at his nose smearing red across his face, and growled. "That's how you wanna do this, huh?"
Viktor was feeling pretty good about that punch until Satarou slammed into him, causing them both to crash into the ground. Pain flared up in the Russian's cheek when Satarou punched it, hard, and he retorted back with a kick in the side.
How dare you call Yuuri a slut, you red haired bastard?! Viktor thought, his fury taking over his actions. Faintly he could he hear voices, screams in the back round, and when someone laid a hand on his shoulder to try and rein him in, and struck at them furiously, before turning back to Satarou.
They were both in bad condition; Viktor was supporting a bruised cheek and a nasty black eye, while Satarou had a bleeding, and probably broken nose with an aching side and head. Viktor wanted to do more, to hurt more, when Yuuko's panicked words filled his ears. "Yuuri?!"
Whipping his head around, Viktor's heart stopped.
Yuuri was sitting on the ground, eyes wide with confusion, and...fear? Yuuko's hand was nestled on his shoulder protectively, and she was glaring at Viktor. Yuuri's fingers shook as he raised his hand to touch his lips, which had a red Crimson stained on them. Blood was slowly trickling out of his mouth and down his face, droplets hitting the floor with a small plunk.
Then Viktor realized; he was bleeding because of him.
Because Viktor had hit Yuuri.
"Y-Yuuri," the older man said shakily, wanting to reach out, to caress his students cheek. But he couldn't, because the looks Viktor was receiving made him feel like a monster. "I didn't mean-"
Yuuri bolted to his feet, and sadness bloomed in Viktor's chest when he saw tears forming in the beautiful brown eyes that he adored. Yuuri tried to force out some words, but clapped a hand over his mouth and ran off, starting to make choking noise that signalled he was going to start sobbing. Finally unfreezing, Viktor took a step after Yuuri but was immediately stopped by Yuuko, who was glaring at him with anger, but also with a hint of pity. She spread her arms to block his way, sending him an unspoken message, before jogging after her friend.
"Wow." Satarou got to his feet, smirking. "You really messed up, huh?" He leaned in, testing the waters. "Yuuri probably won't forgive you after this."
Then he left, leaving Viktor alone in the rink.
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Oh god, he messed up. He messed up, big time.
The looks he had received as he walked into Yutopia made Viktor want to fold into himself until there was nothing left, and he stayed in his room, knowing that he wasn't welcome for supper. Finally, with Makkachin whining at his feet, he clipped on his leash and started to take him out for his walk, and stepped out of his room quietly.
Definitely not expecting a hand to slam against the wall, millimetres from his face.
"Listen here, asshole," Mari snarled, blowing smoke in his face. "I got the whole story from Yuuko. I don't know what your side is, but, I don't take people who harm my brother lightly." She stepped back a little, hand still on the wall. "If it were up to me, I'd beat you up. But I think it's up to Yuuri to decide your fate. And..." She narrowed her eyes. "That Satarou guy screams bad news. But if I do much as hear a peep of something I don't like, I will kick your ass."
Swallowing heavily, Viktor nodded before jogging down to Yuuri's room; the walk would have to wait.
Shifting from foot to foot nervously, he stood outside of his pupils door, hand poised to knock. He could do this, he could do this.
Then why was his hand trembling so much? Why wouldn't his hand move a damn inch, no matter how much he willed it?
Was it because he had hit Yuuri with that hand?
Yes. That's why; because I laid a hand on the person I love, the person who showed me what it's truly like to feel, Viktor thought. Putting his hand down, he decided to use his voice instead. "Yuuri?" He called out quietly, before blanching. His voice sounded choked, like something was stuck in his throat.
For a couple moments, he stood in silence, waiting for a response. Right when he was ready to come back later, a small voice came from the other side of the door. "C-come in."
Oh. He sounded...broken.
Viktor eased the door open gently, and his heart ached when he saw Yuuri sitting on the floor, eyes gazing blankly at the wall as he touched his bruised lips, like he still couldn't believe the hit had happened. Honestly, Viktor couldn't believe it happened either. He sat down next to Yuuri, and almost reached out when the black haired man scooted over a little, away from him.
Because he was scared of him.
"Yuuri..." Oh god, he was choking. Why the hell was he choking? "I-I'm-" get your act together, Nikiforov! "Moya lyubov, I'm sorry."
Taking a deep breath, he tried to will back the tears in his eyes, because Viktor Nikiforov doesn't cry! "I'm so sorry."
For a minute, there was more silence, and Viktor worried that he may lost something; lost something that was worth more than his phone, his lonely apartment, all his gold metals combined.
"Viktor." There was no sign of warmth in his voice, only confusion. "Why did you beat up Satarou?"
For a minute, Viktor wanted to tell him. Wanted to tell him what the man had said, wanted to see that Yuuri found out that he deserved better.
But how could he? Yuuri would never believe him, not after what happened, and especially not after all the dates he went on, not after all the time he had spent with Satarou. So at first, the Russian stayed silent.
"Were...were you jealous?" A punch in the gut; that's one way to describe his feeling. For some reason, when Yuuri called him out it was a thousand times worse. "Whenever Satarou was around, or whenever I went out, you always acted...different. You acted cold."
"I...I..." Be honest. "Yes."
Yuuri finally looked him in the eyes, his brown orbs filled with disappointment. "Is that why you punched him?"
"N-no!" Viktor spluttered.
"Then why-" Yuuri's interrogation was cut off the the shrill ring of his phone, and he picked it up immediately. "Hello?"
Then the way his face seemed to light up and his frown eased into a smile was how Viktor knew who it was. "Yeah, of course I can meet at the bar. I'll see you in twenty?" A pause. "Okay, bye." Hanging up, Yuuri got to his feet, and Viktor followed suit.
"Viktor." Yuuri looked away, and wiped at his eyes. The urge to reach out and touch his face gently was so powerful, he almost couldn't resist it. But Yuuri may never be able to react to Viktor's touches the same way again. "I...I need a couple of days. Only a few; to think things over."
"Done." Anything for you.
"Thanks." Awkwardly standing there for a second, Viktor recognized the dismissal and left the room quickly, with Yuuri following suit, getting ready to go out to town.
No, their relationship wasn't going to go back to normal. Not right away. But this...this was a start.
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After the few promised days Yuuri showed up to the rink, looking determined but also weary. Viktor smiled, clapping his hands together enthusiastically, trying to cut through the thick tension. After stretching, he ordered Yuuri to work on a few jumps, before asking him to preform the Eros routine.
With every jump and turn, step and spin, Viktor frowned a little more. "Stop!" He called out, placing his hands on his hips. "Yuuri, you're lacking Eros again. Is the katsudon not enough?"
Taking deep breathes and gulping down water, Yuuri gasped out: "I...don't know."
"Hmmmm." Viktor knew the events from four days ago were probably weighing on Yuuri's shoulders, and he decided to cut him some slack. "We'll try again tomorrow. For now, show me your spins and quad loop."
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Viktor remembered the day forever; that's how terrible it was.
It had started out fine. He woke up to his screeching alarm, and threw it so hard against the wall it's a wonder it didn't shatter. Then he trudged down to the kitchen, accepted some breakfast from Hiroko, and when Yuuri was ready (which was always before him) they headed out to the Ice Castle, and started training. They got interrupted but the triplets once or twice, but other than that, the practice went flawlessly. Viktor had complemented Yuuri with such enthusiasm that the black haired man had turned bright red. It had been a month since the incident, and their relationship had returned to normal; as normal as it was going to get, for the time being.
It was back at Yutopia when it happened.
"-so then I told him: "To get an ass as great as mine, you gotta-""
"Chris! I've heard this story quite enough!" Viktor groaned, flopping down onto his sofa. Then his stomach growled, and he smirked. "It was nice talking to you, Chris. We've got to talk more; bye!"
"See you."
Humming, Viktor walked down the halls, daydreaming about a certain figure skater-
In a COMPLETELY platonic way. Yes. Platonic.
Because Yuuri has a boyfriend.
It was when Viktor almost started to go down the stairs when he heard muffled shouting come from down the hallway.
Coming from Yuuri's room.
He knew that maybe she should give his pupil privacy, and that it wasn't any of his business. But the more curious side urged him to go down, and just listen in.
Only for a few seconds.
That's how Viktor found himself outside Yuuri's door, leaning in for better hearing. The guilt that racked his core was being overwhelmed by the need to know what was going on. So, he listened.
And it's a good thing he did.
"S-Satarou-"
"Shut UP! You stupid, stupid slut! Why can't you just realize that I never LIKED YOU! NEVER!"
Crazy laughter arose from the room.
"I wanted you for your body! Your delicious, sexy body."
Viktor heard enough by then.
Pushing open the door, he stepped in the room and froze at the scene.
Yuuri was on his knees, whimpering at the tight grip Satarou had on his hair. The latter was staring at Viktor, mouth open wide and moving but no words coming out. Blood was tricking down Yuuri's face, something that looked way to familiar.
"Let go of him!" Viktor screamed angrily, taking a step forward. Realizing the situation he was in, Satarou threw Yuuri's body towards the Russian, who caught the smaller man in his arms, cradling him gently. Then he ran out the door, leaving Viktor and Yuuri kneeling together on the floor.
Yuuri was clutching Viktor's shirt tightly, burying his face in his chest. His shoulders were shaking with sobs as he tried to choke out words; he couldn't, and proceeded to try to snuggle in deeper.
"Yuuri," Viktor said calmly, running his hands through the silky, black locks. "Moya lyubov, what happened?"
"I-I...I don't know...w-we..." He took a deep breath. "We were just sitting here t-talking...and th-then he wanted to...y-you know...do it..." His cheeks grew redder, but went on. "I-I refused...I didn't want to...then he exploded, c-called me a whore, a slut..." He started to cry harder, making Viktor angrier.
"Has this happened before?"
His heart hurt when Yuuri hesitantly nodded his head. "Once. He was d-drunk, I thought it was the alcohol t-talking."
He wrapped his arms tightly around his student, fingers twitching. "Moya lyubov, you deserve better."
"I'm not g-going to be seeing him anytime soon."
There was silence, before a terrible question was asked. "Do you think he ever loved me?"
Viktor stiffened; he didn't want to hurt Yuuri even more, but lying to him wasn't an option. "I...I don't think so, my darling katsudon."
Fingers tightened on his shirt, and words he knew he couldn't stop slipped out. "But I do."
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A week had passed. Satarou came by once, trying to pull on a sad and forgiving face, but it immediately turned cold when he not only got confronted by Yuuri, but Viktor, Mari, Takeshi, Yuuko and Minako. He left soon after, and they all celebrated with katsudon and sake, which Yuuri profusely denied.
Viktor was sitting on his bed with Makkachin, on his laptop when Yuuri came in. Raising an eyebrow, he popped the earphones out of his ears and gestured to the space next to him. Yuuri sat without hesitation.
"Viktor." He said. "A week ago, you said you loved me." He paused. "Well, not exactly, but close enough."
Fear rose into his chest; he didn't want to lose the relationship he had. "I-"
"Did you mean it?"
"What?" Yuuri was leaning in closet now; they were almost touching noses.
"Did you mean it?" His voice wavered, but his eyes screamed confidence.
"Yuuri-"
"Because, Viktor Nikiforov." A deep breath. "I love you." Now his eyes were losing confidence at Viktor's flabbergasted look. "I've loved you for a while now, I just never let myself admit. But I'm admitting it now: I love you. I love you, I-"
Viktor silenced him with a kiss; a deep passionate kiss that he had been craving for a while.
"Yuuri," he gasped out, pulling away and cradling the younger man's face. "I love you too."
God, I love you so much. So, damn much.