Work Text:
There’s a Difference Between International Travel and Around the World
Viktor’s Short Program had been flawless up until the last minute of his routine. Guang Hong isn’t sure what jump Viktor had been going for, but it doesn’t matter.
“It’s not fair.” Guang Hong shakes his head and tries not to squeeze the head off the plush bear clutched in his arms: it’s something he had picked up off the ice following his skate, and it’s dressed in an identical outfit. It’s adorable, but Guang Hong is close to popping stuffing out of the body by accident. “We all saw him throw that!”
There are nods and murmurs of agreement from other skaters and coaches. Viktor, with tissues stuffed up his nose, frowns at his score. Both eyes are already bruising, and Yuuri is offering more tissues from the Makkachin-shaped holder when the ones plugging Viktor’s nose begin to turn red.
Viktor’s Short Program had been flawless up until the last minute of his routine. Gaung Hong isn’t sure what jump Viktor had been going for, but it doesn’t matter. Someone had thrown something, and Viktor’s had hit it before his takeoff. Whatever had been thrown (Guang Hong thinks it might have been a metal drumstick of all things) had ruined Viktor’s balance and sent him into an awkward spin in the air while Viktor had tried to correct his form. The momentum and his skate catching on something before takeoff had sent Viktor careening into the ice face first when he landed on an unsteady blade. Viktor had gotten up seconds after the fall, obviously stunned, and had finished his routine with blood running down his lips and chin and few final halfhearted elements.
“It’s not fair,” Guang Hong repeats bitterly.
It’s obvious to everyone but the judges that Viktor’s fall is not his fault. There’s no suggestion that Viktor retry his routine (despite already being fatigued from his first attempt) once his nose has stopped bleeding or he be scored on his elements only up to and before his fall. It’s a decent score, but it’s obvious that Viktor hitting the ice had reduced his points significantly.
The man who had thrown said UFO (Unidentified Flying Object) has already been escorted from the arena. Viktor is still trying to stem the flow from his nose while Yakov approaches the Kiss and Cry, exchanges a few words with Yuuri and Viktor, before heading for the judges. There’s already been an announcement from the medics that Viktor’s perfect nose isn’t broken and any bruising will blossom and then fade in the coming days: there’s nothing to worry about.
“Skater Viktor Nikiforov’s score will stand despite a challenge from Coach Yakov Feltsman,” comes the announcer who sounds just as bitter as Guang Hong feels.
“Doesn’t America have more than nine judges to use?” Guang Hong complains. “Or another referee for international competitions?”
Viktor offers a final wave before standing. “I still have my Free Skate tomorrow to make up for lost points!” he tells the nearest interviewer with a smile while Yuuri starts grabbing more tissues.
“Viktor, your nose!”
There’s blood down the front of Viktor’s costume and tacky red still painting his chin and neck. Yuuri had tried to help the medics clean Viktor up as best as possible so that he could receive his score not looking like a mugging victim, but only a proper shower will be able to return Viktor to his former non-bloodied glory.
Viktor removes the bloodied tissues from his nose, and Yuuri immediately has another wad ready for when more blood starts to drip from each of Viktor’s nostrils.
“My costume,” Viktor whines.
“It’s not ruined,” Yuuri soothes as he steers Viktor to the locker room instead of seats to watch the rest of the competition. “We just need to wash it before the blood dries. Come on, I’ll try to rinse it in a sink.
“Hot water?” Viktor suggests through his stuffed nose.
“No!” Yuuri shouts in horror. “Viktor, cold water!”
Guang Hong releases the death grip he has on his teddy bear. He looks to his coach who has her lips pursed and looks sour.
“I’m going to speak with the other coaches,” she says. “This nonsense with the judges has to stop.”
“Wait!” Guang Hong hugs the bear to his chest. “Tomorrow, for my Free Skate, can I… Viktor did magic for me…”
Hos coach smiles. “Do whatever you’d like.”
“Our next skater is Guang Hong Ji from China,” the announcer says brightly.
Guang Hong steps onto the ice and offers a single look over his shoulder. He glances at his coach who smiles and claps before he shifts to Viktor. Viktor, with bruises ringing each eye, brings his hands together with a wide smile.
“Davai, Guang Hong!” he calls.
Guang Hong turns his head and begins to grin when he hears Leo shouting good luck in his preferred Chinese dialect with perfect pronunciation. Guang Hong takes his starting pose and notices that his music starts after a short delay. He’s not surprised: most skaters don’t switch out their music the day before a competition.
Leo frowns when the music starts. He hurries over to Guang Hong’s coach in a panic.
“This isn’t his Free Skate music,” he said worriedly. “This is...”
Leo stops short and watches Guang Hong reach down the front of his costume. A confused murmur echoes in the stadium as Guang Hong starts skating a wide circle and holds out something small and red with a hint of neon yellow. Guang Hong flashes a peace sign and makes eye contact with Viktor. No, it’s not a peace sign… it’s a V.
Guang Hong flips the yo-yo out a few times to warmup as he does laps. He performs a simple walk the dog. The stadium erupts. Leo starts to laugh as Guang Hong makes erratic passes, following the red yo-yo and bright yellow string as if the yo-yo is dragging him.
“International travel!” Viktor says in awe as Guang Hong whips the yo-yo around in a big circle.
“Around the world,” Yuuri corrects; a few people turn to him interest and he shrugs. “Yo-yos are big in Japan. I know the basics.”
And so does Guang Hong. Each trick is performed flawlessly and in-time to the music. Leo, despite his skates, starts to dance. Rather well.
“EXO-M,” Leo explains happily after a chorus of mixed English and Chinese. “’Overdose!’”
Guang Hong slows his laps and then starts twisting the string, bouncing the yo-yo off it, and making knots. Nothing ever tangles, and the applause is overwhelming.
“He can yo-yo,” Viktor breathes in awe. “He can yo-yo!”
“He’s been doing this since I knew him, but just as hobby,” Guang Hong’s coach says. “I always thought he could have gone pro with this instead of skating.”
Guang Hong fiddles with the yo-yo and string. Viktor grabs onto the rink wall and shouts when the red disc goes flying into the air without any type of attachment. Guang Hong catches the yo-yo on the string, flings it in the air again to hit a strand, and then continues whipping it around, bouncing the yo-yo off the string as he creates crisscrossing lines.
“You speak Chinese?” Yuuri asks while Leo sings along to the pop song without hesitation.
“No, not really,” Leo admits. “Just a few words and phrases that Guang Hong taught me. But I know lots of songs! I can sing almost every song from the EXO-M Overdose album. He recommended it to me.”
Guang Hong finishes his yo-yoing with another walk the dog to around the world transition. He stops, bows, and then heads right for the gate with a grin on his face as the stadium stands.
“That was amazing!” Viktor gets to Guang Hong before his coach does and hugs him tightly. “Can you teach me?”
“I can try,” Guang Hong offers. “But only if you show me some card tricks.” He and Viktor pull apart. “You deserved more than you got,” Guang Hong continues in a softer voice. “Or at least a redo. Everyone saw that man throw that thing and you trip over it.”
Despite the bruises around his eyes, Viktor’s eyes start to sparkle. “Thank you.”
“Xie xie ni,”Leo offers.
Viktor butchers the words, but the attempt is appreciated.
“Spasibo,” Guang Hong whispers.