Archive of Our Own

Two years.  Two years she'd known Yuuri Katsuki, since that welcome reception where he'd looked so uncomfortable and she'd invited him to the pub.  He had been a mystery at first, friendly but closed off.  When he finally let her into his life, she found a real friendship with this warm, expressive, gentle man.  And with his warm, expressive, extra-as-fuck husband.

And now he was graduating.

They'd shared a couple more classes after that first nightmare one, and the weekly coffee and study session had been a treasured ritual for Yuuri, Robin, and their closest friends, even as it became as much a social event as an academic one.  Very few others, students or faculty, ever realised the quiet Japanese man was extremely famous in another world far outside the ivory tower.  Robin felt profoundly privileged to be his friend, not because of his celebrity, but because he was a good man and he trusted her.  She knew that on those days where they met up and curled their hands around warm mugs, he felt free to be himself.  

"Robin, look!" he called excitedly one day as she entered the coffee shop.  Esther passed over the phone she'd been looking at.  "We're calling her Stammi!"  It was a tiny poodle puppy, hardly more than a fist-sized ball of fluff.  Yuuri beamed at her.  She knew by then that the aria Stammi vicino had a special meaning for him and Victor.  

"Yuuri, you have to let me come and play with this dog," she said seriously.  Then she grinned.  "That's so awesome!  When are you getting him?"

"Four weeks from now - she's still too tiny to leave her mother."  He rolled his eyes.  "Victor has already bought her food dishes, harness, collar, five leashes, and at last count, twenty-seven toys.  I had to cut him off, Robin.  How hard is it to just... not go into the pet store?  I swear, he was making daily trips last week, and we hadn't even picked Stammi out yet!"

Makshi patted his hand sympathetically.  It had not taken them long after that first dinner party to realise that "moderation" was not in Victor's vocabulary.  

***

After the Dinner Party of Many Revelations (as Deon had christened it), Yuuri had tried to share some of his skating life with them.  Amy asked if he minded if they looked up his and Victor's performances on youtube, and he said he didn't mind.  Victor texted Deon a link to a certain performance of one of Yuuri's early routines.  According to Amy, who had been present at the time, Deon had started sweating, and had spent a solid fifteen minutes afterward just staring into space.

During his second term, Amy had nervously asked Yuuri if he could teach her some skating.

"I know I'll never be very good," she said quietly, "not like you and Victor, I'm too old and probably not very talented anyway, but I've seen your videos and the way you soar on the ice, I want to try even a tiny bit of that, I don't mind paying, it looks so beautiful.  I get it if you don't want to so don't worry-"

"Amy!  Amy, I'd be happy to teach you some," he interrupted, smiling.  "We can make some time at the rink, and you can borrow skates.  I don't need money, not unless you really enjoy it and want to take proper lessons.  But it would be fun to teach you.  Does anyone else want to learn some basics?"

Robin and Deon had tagged along too.  Deon barely lasted the first session, claiming he just felt too wobbly to be comfortable.  He continued to come to the rink, but spent his time behind the boards, chatting and ogling Yuuri with Victor.  Robin learned a few basic tricks, but Amy... Amy lit up when she touched the ice, and she soaked up everything that Yuuri could teach her.  Yuuri was a patient and effective teacher, "really much better than me," Victor had confessed to Deon one time.  It was unlikely she'd ever move past single jumps, but the smile on Amy's face as she danced on the ice with Yuuri made Victor reject every offer for payment, even when the lessons became regular.

Sometimes, when they all had time, Victor would glide out to join Yuuri when Amy's lesson was over, and the husbands would skate together while their friends watched.  It took their breath away, and at times, Robin felt like she should look away, as if she was intruding on something intensely intimate, like a voyeur.  Yuuri and Victor always laughed and claimed they were far from what they used to be.  

Makshi joined them at the rink once, and demanded Yuuri explain to her the different jumps, spins, and the scoring system because it all looked the same to her and she hated being ignorant.  Yuuri gave her homework, in the form of a flash drive full of slow-motion videos.  When he invited them over for a viewing party of the Russian Nationals, Mac had just nodded her satisfaction in following the announcer's commentary.  Victor waved to them when the camera focused on him during warm-up.  Yuri Plisetsky took gold.

Plisetsky.  It had taken a while for them to get over their initial... encounter... with Victor's student at the rink.  The first time he had stomped into the coffee shop during their meet-up, the hostility from everyone but Yuuri had been palpable.  Yuuri had pulled a chair over the moment he'd seen who banged the door open, and the blond had sunk himself into it with a scowl.

"Katsudon, your husband is an idiot."

Makshi slammed her book down on the table and demanded " The hell?? "

Yuuri just held up a hand to her with a slight smile.  He slid his barely-touched coffee in front of Yuri, and motioned him to turn and face away.  Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a comb, and loosened the blond hair from it's half ponytail.  Beginning to run it through the younger man's hair, he inquired "What's the reason today?"

"The geezer says I can't take next Thursday's practice off.  'Too close to Worlds,'" he mimicked Victor's cheery voice.  "But I have a midterm on Friday and maybe that idiot doesn't know because he never went to an actual school, but I might actually want to study?"

Yuuri hummed in agreement as he continued combing.

"And he's trying to guilt me, as if I haven't landed that stupid quad flip thirty times in a row already.  Like I'm not as reliable at it as you were.  You jerks are the ones always nagging me to 'get an education, get an education, you can't skate forever' and now he doesn't want to give me one lousy evening off to study, what the hell old man."

"Mm," Yuuri agreed, beginning to braid his hair.  "I'll talk to him.  One evening isn't going to hurt your training right now.  Nationals aren't until next month.  You can come over if you want.  I'll get rid of Vitya somehow for you, and you can study in the quiet with me."

He tied off the braid.  The blond snatched up his coffee, then stood and turned to headbutt Yuuri gently.  " Spasibo ," he whispered.  Then, noticing the rest of the group for perhaps the first time, he turned bright red and stomped out, scowling deeper than when he entered.

Yuuri laughed softly at their expressions.  "I know you saw him making fun of me in the fall," he said.  "But there's a lot more to Yura than you saw at the rink.  It's hard to explain it.  He... he taught me a difficult jump, when he didn't have to and had every good reason not to, when even Victor wouldn't.  We were rivals, but it was the best kind.  We were both better for each other being on the ice.  And I know that he was glad I was on the podium with him - if you'd seen him with this Canadian skater, man.   That's a guy he truly despises.

"When I told him I was going back to school in America after retirement, he screamed at me for a month.  Then he kicked his way into the change room at our rink and screamed at me specifically for leaving him.  When I told him he could come too and Victor would coach him, but only if he registered for classes, he gave me the silent treatment for another solid week.  Finally, I opened my locker one day and a copy of his university application fell out.  He's in the biology department now."  Yuuri looked at them.  "You didn't hear about any of this from me.  He'll deny it to his dying breath, but he cares very deeply."

The following week, when they met to study, Plisetsky was sitting silently at the table in the corner.  He continued not-joining them for two more weeks, until finally Amy wordlessly pulled a chair out for him.  Yuuri had explained to them the intense training schedule of an elite skater, and despite his attitude, they couldn't help but respect the younger man a bit for his decision to study.  When Plisetsky discovered that Esther was a gamer, a whole study session was wasted on the two of them comparing notes on the latest releases and favourite play-throughs on youtube.  He never lost his aggressiveness, or his scowl, but in time the study group forgave him for his mocking of their friend, and he became a regular.

"It probably helps," Yuuri confided to Robin one day as they left classes together, "that you don't treat him as special.  He's been around skaters and skating fans his entire life, and I suspect it's a relief to just be treated like a regular human sometimes."

Robin made a sound that was half a snort, half a laugh.  "Regular humans have expressions beyond 'scowl' and 'concentrating too hard to scowl at the same time'.  But Yurio's like an angry little kitten - you have to try hard not to laugh at its aggression.  At first it was only because you asked, but now it would be weird not having him around.  Besides, he reminds me of my little sister."

The weird (and in one case, angry) little skating family drew them close with their trust and the shared secret.  There were occasional celebrations for exams passed and medals won, and it was somehow more intimate and special than the usual student parties.

***

At the beginning of his second year, Robin dragged Yuuri out to the start of term social, the event where they'd met the year previous.  

"Last year a world-famous skater showed up!" she teased him.  "Maybe this year we'll get a world-famous badminton star!  You never know!"

"Robin, I-"

"Don't go trying to wiggle out of it, Yuuri.  I know damn well Victor is in town and you're not needed at the rink.  It's, like, an hour and a half, tops.  I hate these things, but it's good to get to know who's joining us."

And that was that.

To the best of their knowledge, no illustrious badmintoners joined them that year, but she did end having to move quickly that afternoon.  She'd been on a second glass of wine, and Yuuri still nursing his orange juice, when she heard a stifled gasp from their left, by the door.

Someone she didn't recognise, one of the incoming students, had arrived late.  His eyes were wide as he stared at Yuuri, who was chatting with one of the professors.  Before the latecomer could move or say anything, Robin had woven her way through the small crowd, hooked an arm through his, and steered him right back out the door.  His eyes stayed fixed on Yuuri until his body rotated too far to allow it, and he shook himself slightly and looked at her.

She smiled a bit too brightly, still holding his arm.  "Hi, I'm Robin.  Yes, you just saw who you think you saw, and he is studying here.  He's my friend and we're going to have a chat out here so you can get this out of your system before you go all fannish at him in front of his colleagues and professors."

"But that's Katsuki Yuuri!" he exclaimed.  

"Yes, we know Yuuri's name," Robin replied calmly.

"He... he... he's amazing!  I have posters of him!"

She snickered.  "Yeah, maybe don't tell him that.  Not in the plural, anyway.  Look, he's here to study, same as the rest of us.  Most people here don't know about the figure skating.  If you're a fan," and she paused for him to nod nervously, "you might be aware how private he is.  I'll introduce you, but not if you're going to make a scene in front of the whole department.  He's my friend and I respect his boundaries, and if you want to get to know him, you will too.  So take a few breaths and realign your sense of reality if you need to, because you're going to be seeing him around a lot."

She carefully let him go, and was pleased to watch him take a few deep breaths.

"Robin?" Yuuri asked, coming through the door.  "I looked around and you'd just disappeared.  Suranjit said she'd seen..."  His voice trailed off and he looked at her with confusion.

"Hey Yuuri," she answered.  "It seems you have a fan joining us in the department.  Yuuri, this is... You know, I think I forgot to ask his name.  What's your name, fanboy?"

"Uh, Eamonn."

"Yuuri, this is Eamonn.  Eamonn, Yuuri."

Yuuri shook his hand.  "Nice to meet you," he said.  He was smiling, but Robin hadn't seen him use that smile in almost eight months.  It was warm and friendly, but told the recipient absolutely nothing about the person underneath.  Eamonn stuttered a bit, looking at the famous skater with wide eyes.

Robin coughed.  "We were just having a conversation about privacy and boundaries, and Eamonn, he isn't going to go making a big deal about who is or isn’t a student here."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Is he?"

"Wha?  Oh, no, definitely not," he said nervously, then sighed, running his hand through his hair.  "Look, I'm sorry.  I was pretty shocked to walk into the reception and see, well, Katsuki Yuuri.  You gotta forgive me being surprised.  I won't say anything to anyone.  I admire you, um, Yuuri, and I don't want to make your life difficult.  I'll do my best to be normal."

Yuuri's smile this time less brilliant, but more genuine.  "I would really appreciate that."  He turned to Robin.  "I think I'm pretty done here.  Walk you to the bus?"

She nodded.

He held out his hand and the two men shook again.  "Nice to meet you, Eamonn!  See you around!"

As they walked off, Robin had a sudden thought.  She managed to contain herself until they exited the building and were on the sidewalk.  Her sudden loud laughter pulled Yuuri up short.

"Oh my god, his face ," she cackled.  "You should have seen it, Yuuri!  His fucking face !  He looked terrified of me!  And all of a sudden I'm thinking ' Buddy, just be glad that it's me and not Mac ' because can you imagine, Yuuri?  Can you imagine what Mac would have done to him?"

Yuuri's mouth quirked up into a smile, and soon he was laughing as well.

"We- we should tell her," Robin continued through her laughing.  "I can just see her spotting him in class.  And she gives him her death glare and, and the 'I'm watching you' sign.  Poor bastard’d be terrified and has no idea why this tiny Indian girl wants him dead..."

Yuuri laughed harder at this mental image.  

Robin finally got her laughter under control.  She snaked her arm through his and they started walking again.  "Yuuri, a year ago, you didn't have a way around this sort of thing, finding surprise fans in the department.  You were anxious about talking to me and even telling me your name, and I get why.  I hope you know that, well, we've got your back.  Esther, Deon, Amy, Mac, me...  you trusted us, and we're watching out for you.  No one, even Mac, is actually going to terrorise the fanboy, but we'll help you keep the low profile.  Okay?"

He gave her a grateful and slightly embarrassed smile, ducking his head.  "Thanks, Robin.  I really appreciate it."

They were almost to the bus stop when a second, less comical, thought occurred to her.  "Oooh, hey.  Someone should warn him about Victor and Yurio.  I mean, he might think of it himself, but just in case."

Yuuri's eyes widened slightly.  "That would be a good idea."

Robin patted his arm as they came to a halt by the bus stop.  "I'll see if I can find him in the next couple of days.  Spare you the job.  Anyway, I'm fine waiting here, you go on home and give Victor the story."  She grinned as Yuuri groaned.  "You know he'll love it.  See you Wednesday?"

"Mmhm.  Thanks again, Robin.  Have a great evening!"

***

The rest of the year was uneventful.  Eamonn was true to his promise and told no one about the celebrity in their department.  If he glanced at Yuuri a little longer than normal, or seemed a bit awed in his presence, it wasn't a thing worthy of note.  Deon was not Yuuri's only admirer, and this newest one seemed little different from any other.  Yuuri, once he was confident again that he wasn't going to be singled out, quietly slipped Eamonn a poster which he, Victor, and Plisetsky had all signed.  Eamonn's beaming smile the next time they crossed paths clearly demonstrated that his fannish tendencies were still present to some extent, but he still kept Yuuri's secret.

Aside from the French tutorial he was taking with Deon, Yuuri was mainly focused on his thesis.  He wasn't fazed by the dedication required, having kept a gruelling schedule for most of his skating career, but the endless writing of drafts, meetings with advisors, re-drafting, and more meetings took their toll on him.  Robin could tell, after the first couple of cycles of this, precisely how many days there were until Yuuri's next supervision by the bags under his eyes and the increasing look of panic on his face.

"It's a different sort of stress," he explained one day when it was just the two of them at the coffee shop.  "When I was in the rink, it was all focused on a few minutes of action.  No matter how many times I practiced a routine, there was always the chance I would over-rotate a jump or maybe my interpretation would be off.  And there would be scores, and it would be over until the next competition.  This... my thesis is different.  I have to put something together, bit by bit, with meticulous research and getting just the right words down.  I don't have to deal with cameras and interviews, just.. the mild disappointment of my supervisor.  Somehow it's just as bad.   How is it just as bad?  How is it just as bad all the time? I'm not trying to beat anyone to my MA!  But, well, every day is part of the performance.  It's like all the anxiety I used to pack into a four-minute routine is spread out over months ."

He sighed.  "And Victor is trying, he is, but he's not much help with this.  He's making sure I eat and that I get enough breaks, but he can't help me with this kind of routine.  He's not even much good as a proof-reader."

"Well," she replied, giving him a gentle hug, "if it's any comfort, pretty much all of us go through this.  I don't think I know anyone who didn't freak out about writing their thesis.  You're pretty normal in this, Yuuri.  Just don't forget that it doesn't have to be perfection."  She paused, finding some inspiration.  "Look, no one expects a skater in the juniors to compete with the same difficulty as the seniors, right?  You'd never push a kid into doing those quad jumps.  You're at that junior level.  Cut yourself some slack in your expectations, okay?"

Yuuri nodded.  "I'm not sure my anxiety was listening, but I'll try."

Robin hugged him again.  "You said once you used to go skate by yourself when you were anxious or upset.  Do you still do that?  It's not like you have to rely on public openings, you own the fucking rink .  Don't just take 'breaks'.  Go do something that helps you feel calmer.  Take Victor."

He smiled a bit.  "I always feel sort of guilty when I'm not working, but you're right.  I guess, well, if it helps me stay on track it's not really goofing off.  I'll do that.  Victor will be thrilled he can help more."

"Right."

After that, she could still count the days until his next supervision, but mostly just by his exhaustion.  She even got a text from Plisetsky, thanking her "for calming down Katsudon and getting the old geezer to stop taking his worry out on me".

***

Finally he had submitted his thesis.  Since most of his year-mates handed in at the same time, the lot of them planned to get blitzed the same night.  Yuuri bowed out as politely as he could.  Robin found out later that instead he'd gone to the rink with his husband to decompress.  Makshi, curious, asked him if more skating had really been better than a good post-thesis carouse.  He turned bright red, at which point Plisetsky had bellowed "Auughh, you guys are gross!  I have to skate on that ice you know!" and stormed out, swearing in Russian.  Deon offered Yuuri a high five, which Yuuri returned, still bright red.

***

They'd seen Yuuri around a few times after that, but since it was the skating off-season as well, he and Victor had taken an extended holiday, first briefly visiting St Petersburg before heading to Japan to spend time with Yuuri's family.  They took Stammi with them, not wanting to burden any of their friends with a rambunctious puppy.  To the study group's relief, Plisetsky went as well.  They liked him, but he was prickly.

When the trio (plus poodle) returned, Yuuri seemed much more like his pre-thesis self.  

"It was wonderful" he sighed, smiling into his coffee cup.  "My mother taught Vitya years ago to make her katsudon, but she's still the expert.  Stammi loved the beach, and I finally had a bath that was hot enough - the apartment's hot water is fixed at a temperature lower than I like.  And it was really nice to see my family again."

"What are you going to do now?" Amy asked.

"Yura is still in school, and given how we twisted his arm to get him here, he'd probably stab us in the face with his skates if we suggested he move now.  So we're going to stay in town at least until he graduates himself."  Yuuri smiled, blushing a little.  "And I don't want to have to start over making friends."

"You're staying?"  Deon exclaimed with excitement.  

"For a while at least, yes, but I think I’m done with school. At least for now."

There were quiet cheers.  "That's awesome, man," Makshi said.  "You're still going to come join us on Wednesdays, right?"

Yuuri affirmed this, then seemed to be a bit hesitant, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

"So, um," he started.  "My actual graduation is next month, and I know you're all busy with your own work still, but some friends have decided it's a great excuse to get together.  We don't see each other much now that we're retired-"

"Skating friends?" Mac interrupted.

"Yeah.  The off-season is still the same for most of us, and, um, I didn't actually get much say in the matter.  My sister, Mari, wants to come for graduation, which I expected, but my roommate from Detroit, he's in Thailand right now, he had the idea to come visit and he's kind of crazy on social media so then Victor's best friend heard about it and invited himself, and one of our rinkmates from St Petersburg decided she misses us.  And then Yura said he was inviting his friend from Kazakhstan because he didn't want to be around all the boring old people without backup, so, um, we're having kind of a party.  If you want to join us.  Unless you're busy," he finished uncertainly.

They pondered this briefly in silence.

"Of course we want to party with you!" Makshi shouted, causing other patrons to stare at them and Esther to shush her.

"Esther, we've been trying to get Yuuri to join us for a party for two years!  He's always got some excuse!  And now he's inviting us!  Hells yes I am going.  We are all going."

Yuuri looked pleased.  "Oh good.  I wasn't sure if you'd want to join a bunch of retired skaters who are, well, huge skating nerds.  Well, I figured Amy probably would, but I thought maybe we'd be a bit boring for the rest of you.  So, um, I only have tickets to the actual graduation for Mari and Victor, but I was thinking after the ceremony we could go somewhere nice to have dinner.  I... know not all of you have huge budgets, so don't worry about the cost."

"Oh, Yuuri," Robin protested.  "You don't have to do that!"

"Well, Victor has a place in mind.  He won't tell me where, but you know Victor, and Yura reminded him that not everyone is as carefree about money as he is, so he's really insisting.  And I'd really like you guys to come.  Victor says he's doing this for me and he knows how important you've been to me and how much you've supported me, and he wants to thank you as well."  Yuuri paused, looking at the table and fidgeting with his coffee cup.  "If it makes you feel less awkward, I was approached about licensing my name for a line of watches in Japan while we were out there, so it's not like we're even going to notice the money."

They stared at him again, pondering again just how different his life was from theirs outside of academia.  He continued fidgeting with his coffee.

Finally Robin laughed, breaking the silence.  "Alright, Yuuri.  Heaven forbid Victor have to change his plans.  We won't make you endure his pouting.  Just let us know when and where, and exactly how fancy Victor thinks we should look, and we'll be there."

Yuuri beamed at them all, grateful and delighted.  "I'll get Victor to let you know."

***

After the graduation ceremony, Robin met Yuuri, his sister, and Victor on the green outside the hall so she could take pictures for them.  Yuuri looked proud in his robes and hood, and Victor looked even prouder.  She took dozens of pictures of them, singly and together, sure that Yuuri's husband would pour over every single shot in delight.  Victor took the camera away from her and shoved it into Mari's hands, and insisted they take more with Robin in the frame.  Eventually she got her camera back and shooed them off so they could all get ready for the dinner.

They met a few hours later at the restaurant Victor had picked out.  Plisetsky was outside to greet them each as they arrived and to direct them to the back room.  Yuuri was thrilled to see them and happily introduced them to his skating friends and his sister.  Mari didn't at first glance look like she was related to their friend, but once they heard her laugh the connection was obvious.  Victor introduced them to Chris - "He was my best man!" - a man about Yuuri's age with a deep voice and a French accent, and Yuuri introduced them to his old roommate, Phichit - “ My best man!” - an energetic, cheerful young man whose phone seemed glued to his hand, the better to document every moment of the event in photos.  Otabek shook their hands gravely, assuring them it was nice to meet them all in a thick, gravelly accent.  Mila introduced herself, ignoring the rest of the skaters with an impish grin.  She was tall and slender, and Robin decided that girl skaters were even more graceful than male skaters.

The food was truly excellent, and if the conversation drifted back to the skaters’ catching up, it was not to exclude Yuuri’s university friends (who did enjoy the stories).  The skaters were equally interested to hear stories from the students, whose lives were as foreign to them as the other way around.  Robin noticed that although everyone else was enjoying the wine, Yuuri, as he almost always did, stuck to sparkling water.

Phichit noticed her considering Yuuri’s glass and leaned in with a conspiratorial grin.  “It’s the banquet,” he told her in a quiet voice.  “He doesn’t drink much since the Sochi Grand Prix Finals.  Did he ever tell you how he met Victor?”

"He said something about it.  He got drunk and tried to pole-dance?  He seemed pretty embarrassed so we never got more details.”

The Thai grinned widely and checked to make sure Yuuri was engaged in conversation .  “He would never offer them.  My best friend is too shy.  Lucky for you, I got all the pictures from Chris and Victor.”

Robin had just taken a sip of wine, and choked.  She coughed deeply for a few minutes and then nudged Makshi, beside her, to get Deon’s attention.  He would never speak to her again if he missed this.

Phichit tapped at his phone for a moment, then passed it to her.  Robin waited for Deon to come crouch beside her.  She took his wine glass from him and carefully placed it on the table away from him.  “Phichit has photos of the banquet where he met Victor.  You know, the one he won’t talk about.”  She held the phone out to him, and he took it reverently.

The both hunched over the phone with Phichit, trying not to draw Yuuri’s attention.  Deon’s eyes grew wider and wider as he swiped through the photos.  The dance-off between their Yuuri and his irritable student was fascinating enough, since neither had ever mentioned it, but when they got to the first of the stripping photos, Deon let out a muffled squeak.  Phichit had angled himself facing away from Yuuri to shield the three of them.

Deon’s hand shook.  “He… we…  we assumed he was talking about sort of staggering around the pole.  He said he was blackout drunk.  Yuuri actually knows how to pole-dance?  Oh my god…”

“Wait,” Robin said.  “Phichit, is that Christophe?”

He nodded.  “Yuuri challenged him to a dance-off, and Chris thought it would be funny if he chose pole-dancing.  He didn’t know that I’d dragged Yuuri to a pole-dancing class about a year after we started sharing an apartment.  You’ve seen some of his performances, right?  How in tune with the music he is?  It’s the same with the pole.  And it was so good for our core strength and helped with our jumps so much that we kept at it a while.”  Phichit’s eyes gleamed.  “I even bribed him into entering an Amateur’s Night once in full drag.  Our shy little friend beat me for tips.  Chris gave him a run for his money in Sochi, though..  Victor swears it’s the best banquet he’s ever been to.”

“Oh.  My.  God.” Deon repeated.

Phichit pouted briefly.  “The next year, after Victor became his coach, he wouldn’t go near the champagne, and then they left early.  Naughty boys.  It was my first Grand Prix Final and I was so disappointed.  Pay attention tonight, my brainy friends.  I had five years to perfect the art of getting Yuuri to loosen up, and after a major project or exam was the best time for it.  Even Victor bows to me.”

Phichit retrieved his phone from Deon’s hand and stood.  He pocketed the phone and grabbed an open bottle of wine from the table.  They watched, trying not to gape, as the petite man draped himself over Yuuri’s shoulders, took his water and drained it.  Yuuri smiled up at his old roommate, who grinned and filled the glass with wine and passed it back.  Phichit kissed him on the cheek and sat down beside him.

“Mac.  Mac! ” Robin whispered hoarsely, watching Yuuri sip the wine.  “Amy!  Guys, I think we’re going to witness magic tonight.”

***

By the time they finished desserts and coffees, Phichit was well on his way to his goal.  He had refilled Yuuri’s wine at least three times without Yuuri protesting.  Victor noticed that Yuuri had switched beverages when Phichit had refilled his glass the first time.  His eyes widened slightly and he glanced quickly at the Thai, who winked.  Victor leaned closer to Christophe and murmured something that made his companion hide a grin.  When Phichit suggested they all head to a bar nearby, Yuuri, who had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, asked his study group if they thought the Bear and Badger would be busy?  Robin had never seen Yuuri drink anything harder than orange juice, except on the occasions she visited him in his apartment.  Considering how little he drank habitually, he was remarkably lucid.

The whole crowd spilled out of the restaurant onto the street, Victor waving cheerfully to the manager.  Robin found herself walking next to Mila.  Mila grabbed Robin’s arm and leaned into her.  “Are you a figure skating fan, then?”  Robin felt her accent like smooth honey.

“Not really,” she admitted.  “Amy’s the only real skating fan, and that’s only since we met Yuuri.  Deon loves to watch, but I think he’s mostly just there to enjoy the asses.  Victor just enables him.”

Mila laughed.  “He would do that, would Victor.  Especially if Yuuri was on the ice.  He was always trying to choreograph routines for Yuuri that showed off his body.  Our Vitya thinks everyone should view his husband the same way he does.  It makes him smug.  It drove Yakov, our old coach, crazy when Vitya was daydreaming of Yuuri.  Sometimes I think Vitya is lucky to be alive still.  When he disappeared to Japan, Yakov refused to speak of him for two months, he was so angry.”

Robin blinked.  “I’m sorry.  I think I might be missing something.  He disappeared?”

It was Mila’s turn to be surprised.  “Yes.  I thought you knew how they met.”

"All Yuuri would tell us was the pole-dancing.  We didn’t even know he meant actual pole-dancing until tonight.  Phichit showed us pictures.  He wouldn’t let Victor say anything, either.”

Mila laughed again.  “And Yuratchka would never say anything.  I think he’s tried to forget it ever happened!”

Robin laughed too.  “Pretty much.  He’s always yelling at them to stop being so disgusting.  I think it’s adorable.  Okay, we need to hear the whole story.  Tell us when we get to the bar?  The others are going to love this.  Do you know, we knew Yuuri for two months before we even knew he was married?  He only told us about the figure skating because I saw some kids asking for his autograph one day and I cornered him on it!”

"That is exactly like Yuuri!” Mila grinned.  “You have to tell me this story!”

The rest of the walk was spent with Robin, and eventually, the rest of the study group, narrating how exactly they uncovered Yuuri’s “secret identity”, as Makshi put it.  The skaters all laughed uproariously when they got to the department-sponsored skating event.

“Yurio!” Phichit accused with a grin.  “You never sent me any pictures! I'm hurt!  Surely my eternal happiness is worth being tracked down by your Angels!”

“Nothing is worth that.  Nothing!  I wouldn't even have Otabek to rescue me!  I'll make fun of Katsudon any day, but…” He shuddered and scowled, and the tall Kazakh put an arm over his shoulders.

Yuuri didn't even protest the conversation, simply blushing and pretending not to hear.

When they reached the Bear and Badger, the bartender greeted the study group, who were regulars. They shoved two tables together, and Robin found herself next to Mila.  Deon and Amy played eager audience for Phichit and his hoard of photos.  Robin kept an eye on Phichit, who took advantage of Yuuri’s sense of courtesy by simply placing a drink in front of him.  Yuuri couldn't bring himself to refuse.

Eventually the whole group was laughing as the skaters told stories of their pranks and mishaps on and off the ice.  Mila’s anecdotes of Yakov dealing with Victor and Plisetsky had Makshi bent over and crying.  Amy’s description of a notorious professor who had written Foucault/Derrida slashfic entitled “The Ram in the Thicket” was equally well received (she did the voices).  Even Plisetsky cracked a smile.  Yuuri had another drink given him by Phichit.  

“Mila!” Robin called above the general clamour, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  “You promised to tell us about how Yuuri and Victor met!”

"Nooooo, Mila, don’t tell the story,” Yuuri whined, slurring ever so slightly.

"Yes!  Story!”  Phichit shouted, banging the table.

"Tell the story of how I met my lovely Yuuri!” chimed in Victor.

Mila grinned and sipped her drink.  Yuuri covered his face with his hands.

"Our Vitya was on the very top of the skating world.  He won gold in every international competition five years running.  This much success was too much for the Living Legend, as they called him.  Our Vitya was bored.  Bored of skating, bored of winning, bored of life .”  Victor pulled a tragic face.   “So this drunk Japanese skater he’s never met before turns another boring, tedious Grand Prix banquet into a wild party - dancing, stripping, and then drunkenly begging Vitya to be his coach.  Vitya was under a spell.  And the next morning… POOF!  The boy is nowhere to be found.

"We knew his name, since he’d been a skater, but that was about it.  Vitya asked everyone he knew for more information and we learned the boy was from Detroit, and who his coach was.  But he never called or emailed, had no facebook.”  Yuuri’s study friends nodded in empathy.  “Vitya pined.  If he hadn’t turned his pining into choreography, I think our coach, Yakov, would have had, um, pristup?”  She looked at Victor questioningly.

"A medical attack?” he guessed.

"A stroke,” Yuuri corrected, head still buried in his arms.

Mila nodded.  “A stroke.  And then, Yakov nearly did have a stroke, because Chris here forwarded Victor a viral video.  The Japanese boy from the banquet, he was skating Victor’s routine from that year, and it was beautiful, like a love letter, calling to Victor.  The details on the video gave the name of a tiny town in southern Japan.  Vitya did the only sensible thing a lovesick man seeing an invitation from his crush can do.  Knowing barely two words of Japanese, he booked a flight for the next day, packed his things and his dog, and went to Japan.  He texted Yakov that he was leaving and would be fine from the airplane on the runway.”

Robin’s mouth hung open, and at the same time she couldn’t help thinking “that is so very Victor.”  Esther started snickering, and Makshi opted for an amused salute in Victor’s direction.

"Sumimasen, Mila-chan,” Mari interrupted.  “Let me tell this part, since I was there.”  

Yuuri groaned, lifting his head to look at her reproachfully.  “Nee-san, no, not you too!”

Mari flashed her brother a wicked grin.  “Yuuri told you he still doesn’t remember the banquet night.  The video of the skating routine wasn’t a message to Vic-chan.  It wasn’t even supposed to be filmed!  Yuuri was just showing his childhood best friend, just her.  But that poor woman has three demon-girls who are huge skating otaku.  The recorded it and uploaded it and no one realised until it was already viral.  My brother just hoped his idol, the skater whose posters plastered his room, the one who’d inspired him to start skating, the Victor Nikiforov, wouldn’t see it.  

"He gets home from a run a couple days later, and mom tells him, very casually, ‘Oh, that skater you like so much, he’s here and he’s in the hot springs,’ because our parents run the onsen, right?”

Mari started laughing at the memory.  “So, so my brother bolts up and tears through the building, through the shower room, and out to the springs.  Remember, he has no idea that he drunkenly begged Vic-chan to be his coach.  No memory of the dancing or the stripping.  And, and, and Vic-chan stands up in the spring, butt fucking naked , and declares he’s going to coach Yuuri, and then gives him this huge shit-eating grin and winks, he winks at Yuuri!”

Mari was practically crying with laughter, as was her audience. Even the sombre Otabek was chuckling. Yuuri still had his head in his arms, trying to avoid everything. Victor had tried not to laugh, but couldn't help himself.

“Yuuri was so shocked he just screamed so loud the whole hotel heard, and, and, he runs away.  Now Vic-chan, he doesn’t know that Yuuri doesn’t remember. None of us in Hasetsu know about it .  And he never mentions it.  He spends the next two months chasing my brother around trying to seduce him.  Asks him about past lovers, knocks on Yuuri’s door and demands they share a room.  And Yuuri has no idea what has possessed the man.  He eventually settled down to actual coaching, thank god, before Yuuri had his own stroke.  And eventually,” Mari concluded, “they did actually fall in love.”

She finished her drink, everyone laughing too hard to speak.

“Oh!” she piped up again, remembering a detail.  “This is, is, the best bit.   They’re fucking engaged before the whole lost-banquet-memory thing comes out!  We’re all out having dinner the night before the Grand Prix finals start, and my brother says in total sincerity, ‘last year I couldn’t even talk to Victor’.  Vic-chan actually spat his beer across the table.  Chris still had all the photos on his ph-ph-phone.”

Mari put her head down on the table and sobbed with laughter.

"Nee-chan , you are so cruel," Yuuri complained.

"You two idiots were impossible that year," Plisetsky told him. "Your youtube routine made Victor totally forget he promised to choreograph me a short program, and I had to track him down in Japan to make him make good. It's a good thing your mom is such a good cook, her katsudon kept me from killing you both."

"Oh god," Esther said when she finally caught her breath. "Yuuri, that's even better than what we imagined. How could you hold out on us like that?"

"Easily," he muttered.

"We didn't know you meant actual pole-dancing," said Deon, eyes wide. "Do lots of skaters learn to pole-dance? Because right now my sample is three out of seven, and that is a lot of pole-dancing skaters!"

Yuuri glared at Phichit and Chris and got up and went to the bar for another drink. He returned with two shot glasses of amber spirits.

"What's that?" Victor asked.

"Yamakazi," his husband replied shortly, slurring a bit.

"Spasibo ," Victor said, reaching for one.

Yuuri gently smacked his hand. "Those are for me. If it's going to be 'Embarrass Yuuri On His Graduation Day,' um, Day, then I'm having some nice whiskey. Go get your own." And he downed the first dram and took off his jacket. He sipped at the second one, humming happily at the flavours.

"Yuuri," Phichit whined, returning to the table with another drink of his own, and yet another for Yuuri. "You never let me do a dance-off with you and Chris. It's not my fault I took an extra year to get to the finals with you. I wanted to have a dance-off too!"

"I would take you on any day, petit ami," Christophe purred. "But no," he said, turning to Deon, "most skaters don't pole-dance. You are just blessed to be with some few who do."

"'Blessed' is not the word," Plisetsky scowled. "You are all disgusting old men. I would have stabbed you in your sleep if you'd ruined my banquet. Nobody wants to see that."

Several of the faces around the tables gave the lie to that statement.

"But I do ," wailed Deon dramatically, waving his arms.

"You," shouted Plisetsky, "are just as bad as them! All of you! Gross! I can see where this is going!  I'm not having anything to do with this! Otabek, please, take me somewhere sane!”

“Da, kotenok,” the quiet man replied. “I have no desire for this either.”

The two stood.  Plisetsky waved an angry finger in the direction of a certain Thai skater.  "You.  I don't want to see any gross pictures on my instagram tomorrow.  I will cut you."
Phichit grinned.  "No promises!  Maybe stay off your phone tomorrow, hey?"

Plisetsky growled.  Robin thought he might actually throw a punch, but Otabek tugged his arm gently.  "Kotenok, come on.  Show me a quieter place to drink."  Plisetsky settled for a dagger-like glare, and then turned a left without another word.

Loud laughter startled them all.  Yuuri was grinning.  "He's afraid I'll kick his ass in another dance-off.  He might have trained under Lilia Baranovskaya, but Minako-sensei knows more than just ballet.  And so does Katsuki Yuuri!"  Robin did a quick count of the empty glasses in front of him and added them to what she knew he'd drunk at dinner.  Holy shit.  She shot a look at Phichit, who was almost bouncing in his chair in glee.

“Chris!” Phichit called. “You, me, dance-off!”

The other man cocked an eyebrow. “Here?” he asked, gesturing to the now-crowded bar.

Phichit gave him an exasperated look. “Of course not!”  He turned to Esther. “Where is a good club? Close by. With poles!”

Esther coughed. “Mac?  Deon?  Any ideas, guys?”

It turned out that Robin, of all of them, knew the best place: a dance club a ways on the other side of campus.  Several poles dotted the perimeter of the dance floor, she said, separating them from the sitting areas.  Officially they were a part of the architecture, so patrons weren’t exactly encouraged to dance on them - but they weren’t generally dissuaded either, especially since the bar brought in more money if someone with any talent decided to give them a whirl.

A loud thunk surprised everyone and they turned to look.  Yuuri had brought his empty glass down onto the table.  He glared at Chris and Phichit.  “You,” he said in a low, challenging voice, “are not going to take away my title, Phichit-kun!”

Robin tried to process the precise meaning of this, but before she could come to a solid conclusion, Phichit clapped his hands in excitement and bounced in his seat a couple times.  “Yuuri!” he cried.  “You’re going to join us?”  

Yuuri gave Victor a smouldering look.  “I’m not going to let my husband forget who he’s going home with,” he said.  Victor smiled like he was the most blessed man in the history of humanity.

Phichit threw his arms around his old roommate.  “Drunk Yuuri is so much fun!” he squealed with delight.  Deon nodded fervently.  

“Aaand, I’m out,” declared Mari.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuuri.  Vic-chan, you better take care of him!”

***

Somehow they managed to make their way through the campus.  Several of the party were well-marinated enough to need gentle guidance to keep them from wandering.  Robin found herself walking arm in arm with Mila again, and thoroughly content with this.  She was a little concerned about Yuuri’s consent to all of this.  It must have shown on her face somehow, because suddenly felt an arm across her lower back and a chipper, if tipsy, Thai-accented voice spoke.

“Yuuri is my best friend, you know,” Phichit said quietly.  “I would never hurt him, not for anything or anyone.  He’s drunk, but he’s not wasted.  I spent a lot of time in Detroit looking out for him.  His anxiety back then was a lot worse, and it would have been easy to go down a bad way.  Our friendship helped keep him steady.  If I’d made the finals in Sochi and been there as well, he would have been able to remember the banquet.  Hazily, maybe, but he’d remember.”

Robin nodded, feeling reassured.  “We all love Yuuri,” Mila added.  “He has no idea of the way he gathers people around himself.  Even Yakov has a soft spot for him.”

Robin smiled at the Russian woman.  “I’ve noticed that.  All of us here,” and she gestured, “love that dork to bits.  Before we even knew who they really were, Makshi was ready to start a fist fight with Yurio at the department skate because he was heckling Yuuri.  I’m pretty sure that if you hate Yuuri, you’re missing a soul.”

“Exactly!” squeaked Mila, kissing her cheek.

The group walked on, laughing and chattering as only a crowd of tipsy good friends can do.  The skaters and the students mingled freely.  They were passing one of the libraries when suddenly Makshi stopped, pulling Chris and Amy up short with her.  She had a truly evil grin on her face.

“Eamonn!” she bellowed, waving her arm.  “Hey, Eamonn!”

They all turned to look, and sure enough, Robin could pick out the startled form of the PhD across the street.

“Eamonn! Eamonn, come over here!” Makshi bellowed again.

Eamonn started crossing the street toward her.  As he got closer to them, his eyes widened, his steps slowed, and only a loud honk from the oncoming car prevented him from being run over.  Amy grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the sidewalk.  His mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he took in the faces in their little crowd.

“Ch… Phi…  oh my gooood,” he whispered.  “ Victor Nikiforov …”

Mac grinned at him.  “We’re going to Fiesta so the boys can decide who’s the best pole-dancer!  Want to come?”

Victor’s hand went up, which caused him to sway a little.  “Not me!  I just want to watch!”

Deon’s arm went around the shocked young man.  “We’re, we’re going to help them settle an argument.  Or not.  It doesn’t really matter who wins.  Because I win.  I win so hard.  Come with us, Eamonn.  You’ve been so good about not telling on Yuuri this year.  We like you.  You can get selfies!  Or autographs!”  Deon paused.  He looked over his shoulder at Chris.  “Chris!  Can I have an autograph?  I don’t have any paper, though.  Would you sign my ass?”

Chris laughed.  “Of course, sure!  But I have to spin Yuuri and Phichit here into the ground, first!”

“Eamonn can help us!  He’s coming, right?”

“If he’s coming, he needs to get moving,” Yuuri declared impatiently.  “Why are we standing here still?   There’s no music!  Can we please go, I want to dance!”  He turned and started walking again.  Deon’s arm was still around Eamonn, who did not protest as he was essentially abducted.

When they reached the dance club, Robin shivered a little as the music sunk into her pores.  It was loud and pulsing, making her sway.  She ordered another drink and also bought several bottles of water, which she passed out around the group.  She insisted Yuuri down a whole bottle, still slightly worried for him.  He complied, but then tossed his jacket to Victor, who clutched it like a life preserver thrown to a drowning swimmer.

Robin looked around, but there were not enough empty chairs for them anywhere as a group.  Victor noticed this as well, and solved the problem in his own way.  They watched as he approached one table, then another, speaking briefly with the patrons there.  They stood up, gesturing to the now-empty chairs, and Victor’s hand dipped into his pocket for his wallet.  She shook her head, laughing with Mila.  Victor always had such a direct approach to problems.

“Chris!  Phichit-kun!” Yuuri shouted.  The two were already dancing sensually with each other, and he had to shout a couple more times to be noticed over the music and each other.  The group of them swarmed the chairs, Robin sitting again next to Mila and beginning to suspect this was not just an accident, and Deon and Victor finding chairs together.  Victor pulled the still stupefied Eamonn into the chair on his other side.  Yuuri sat in Victor’s lap.

Mila grinned at her.  “I wouldn’t want to take a boy home, but they’re damn fun to watch!”  Robin’s heart thumped at hearing the echo of her own thoughts from the lithe redhead.

A new song began.  They settled back with drinks in hand as Phichit stripped in time to the music and scaled the pole.  His slender frame writhed around the pole with a breathtaking agility, demonstrating spins and drops that made him appear almost weightless.  He slowly dragged himself down the pole in a caterpillar-like motion, drawing out each motion sensually.  Yuuri cheered as loudly as the rest of them, eyes shining.

As Phichit dismounted, Yuuri bounced up.  “It’s been too long!” he was saying as he hugged his friend, flushed with alcohol and effort.  “I’ve missed that!”  He handed the Thai a bottle of water and they sat down, Phichit taking Chris’ seat.

The small crowd that had gathered while Phichit danced had begun to disperse.  When Chris approached the pole, a few turned back around.  

The crowd had doubled in size by the time Chris was done.  The Swiss skater brought the same indecent sensuality to the pole as he once had brought to the ice.  He wasn’t as graceful as Phichit had been, couldn’t achieve the same weightlessness, but he was magnetic.  Eamonn looked about ready to faint.  Even Robin was fanning herself; the sensuality of his dance affected everyone who watched.  

She felt a light touch on her neck and looked to the side to find Mila smiling at her.  She grinned back.

Phichit teasingly held Chris’ shirt out of his reach until the sweating blond was practically in his lap.  He snaked an arm around Chris’ waist and pulled him onto his lap properly, then grinned and gave back the shirt.  The spectators cheers loudly.  Management had definitely noticed them by now, and a bouncer had discreetly stationed himself against the wall behind their tables.

“Yuuri!” Phichit shouted.  “Yuuri, your turn!  You have to defend your reputation!”

And then Yuuri, quiet, reserved, shy Yuuri who had avoided being the centre of attention for the entire time that Robin and the rest of the study group had known him, stood up.  They had always had trouble reconciling the friend that they knew with the astonishing showmanship they saw in videos of his skate routines.  

He leaned down to kiss his husband, long and slow.  Then Yuuri began to unbutton his shirt, and he smirked at Phichit.  “You’re good, but if this was a proper club, Phichit-kun, I would crush you in tips,” he promised.  The Thai man clapped, delighted.

Yuuri climbed the pole in one quick motion. The insane muscles developed from a lifetime of professional skating, the muscles that had allowed him to be the only skater to date who had managed a ratified quad axle, gave him a raw power on the pole that was mesmerising.  He wasn’t weightless like Phichit, or oozing sensuality like Chris, but his connection to the music combined with the moves that his musculature allowed made jaws drop.  Robin wasn’t familiar with the song currently playing, but it didn’t matter, because Yuuri’s dancing somehow became the song.

“Iron X!  Iron X!” she heard Phichit shouting, as the music moved into a different song.

Yuuri must have heard him too, somehow, because he moved sinuously from his current upside-down state into a spread eagle position parallel to the floor, with just his hands on the pole.  It was unmistakably X-shaped, and Robin’s brain had to rapidly reassess its assumptions about what the human body was capable of.  She looked over at the hapless Eamonn, to find him hunched over with his head in his hands, hyperventilating.  After a moment, Yuuri swung himself back in to the pole and into - as Robin would later find out from Victor - a variation on a ‘catch foot layback spin’.  She couldn’t even tell how he was gripping the pole.  He spun and flipped and Robin’s limited pole dancing vocabulary ran out.  The song wound down, and Yuuri’s instinct for the music had him swinging to a stop almost the moment the song did.

He dismounted, and held his hand out to Victor.  Phichit stood at the same time and rushed over with Yuuri’s pants.  Yuuri staggered a bit putting them on, and his husband gave Phichit a reproachful look.  The two of them started toward the dance floor, with Phichit cocking an eyebrow at Chris.

Robin decided that although Yuuri’s stamina probably made him the winner of the impromptu contest, really, she and the rest of the spectators were the true winners.  Deon’s awed face suggested he agreed with her.  Amy was trying to help Eamonn breathe more steadily.  

“Potantsuem?” A breath ghosted over Robin’s ear.  She grinned up at her companion.  Mila had forgotten to translate her request, but Robin understood anyway.

“Love to.”

***

The group of skaters and students slowly broke apart over the next couple of hours.  Victor and Yuuri left after only a few more songs.  Victor tossed his apartment keys to Chris, who was dancing with Phichit and Deon, and told them to be sure not to step on Stammi when they got in.  After Yuuri’s pole-dancing, Robin was frankly surprised they’d stayed even that long.

She and Mila danced, with Amy, Esther, and Makshi joining them after they stuffed Eamonn into a cab, asking the driver to make sure he got in okay.  

It was getting late - or early - when Deon danced his way over to them and quietly told her he was leaving, with a glance at the two remaining male skaters.  Robin grinned widely and told him to have a great night.  He grinned back.  “Figure skaters have the most amazing asses!” he declared, and was off.

The five women enjoyed each others’ company on the dance floor until the last call sounded, then stumbled, laughing, out into the night. “Happy graduation, Yuuri!” Makshi shouted, waving an empty water bottle at the sky.  Mila drew Robin close for a long, soft kiss, which was interrupted when Mac slapped her on the back.

“There isn’t room for all of us in one cab,” Esther said, giggling.  “You and Mila take a one, and Mac and Amy and me will take another.”

Robin giggled back.  “I’m okay with that.  Are you okay with that, Mila?”

Mila kissed her again, lingering.

“Da ,” she finally said.

***

Otabek Altin was sitting at the kitchen table in Yuri’s apartment, sipping some coffee.  Yuri staggered out of the bedroom, yawning and blinking in the morning sunlight.

“ Dobroye utro , Yura,” the older man smiled.  “I’ve made coffee, and it looks like your instagram should be clear.  I checked, and everything is of our dinner.”  Yuri made a sleepy, but agreeable, grunt.  He headed toward the bathroom, and Otabek sipped his coffee again.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting shriek came from the bathroom, followed by a lengthy string of Russian curses.  Otabek, usually unflappable, jumped in surprise.

Yuri stormed out of the bathroom, face dark like a thundercloud.

“Where are my knife shoes?” he screamed.  “I need my knife shoes so I can kill all of them!”

Otabek blinked.

“THEY SENT ME ALL THE PICTURES ON DIRECT MESSAGE .”

He couldn’t help it.  His impassive face cracked, lips turning up into a faint smile.  His lips quavered.  Otabek Altin moved his coffee carefully to the side, put his head in his hands, and cried with laughter.