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Yuzu finds him in the quiet corner Shoma has created for himself in the back of a corridor.
Shoma hates skating last in the group. The time between warm-up and his performance always seems to stretch into eternity. He has been hiding here even before the first group went out for warm-up, and has been avoiding everybody as much as possible.
Obviously, Yuzu finds him anyway. Shoma is stretching, bending over to touch to floor with his hands and breathing deeply, feeling the muscles in his back relax. The feeling floors him with a sense-memory of last night, when he’d been fully relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. Yuzuru is hovering awkwardly in the doorway when Shoma notices him. Shoma doesn’t know how long he’s been there, watching him.
“I wanted to tell you good luck,” Yuzu says, “not that you need it.”
He comes closer, until he is close enough they can talk quietly. There are people milling about, obviously. Even a quiet corner isn't really quiet in an ice rink. But no one stops or pays any attention to them, except for Mihoko, who checks in once in a while, throwing Shoma a nod and a smile. She is good at reading him and his moods, and has been giving him space all morning. After last night, he had needed it desperately. He still doesn't quite know what to make of their nap and cuddle session, as much as he had liked being part of it.
“Thank you,” Shoma says, awkwardly. “Did you skate well?”
He kind of doesn't want to know, doesn't want to pressure of having to deliver, having to win, if Yuzu hadn't skated his best. He feels off, has been feeling off since he’d left Javi and Miki’s room last night to go sleep in his own bed. They had had a quiet dinner, still half-asleep after their nap, and he’d been simultaneously reluctant and eager to leave, after. They hadn’t spoken about anything, not really. He figures they had talked more after he had left.
Yuzu shrugs. “I could have done better.”
Shoma stares at him, hard.
“That means nothing, coming from you,” he says, “because you always say that.”
Yuzu shrugs, again. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true. I popped the sal-”
Shoma blinks, blinks again, thinks that the disbelief must be obvious on his face. Yuzu shrugs, again, playing at nonchalant but not quite reaching it, and continues.
“and the axel.”
Shoma blinks again, and they stand there, for a long moment that stretches into forever, while Shoma just looks up at him and blinks and Yuzu stares back at him. If he were anyone else, Shoma thinks, for a hysterical moment, he would start laughing now. Instead, Shoma feels a gentle pang in his chest. That’s worry, he thinks. That’s what it feels like when you really, really care.
Yuzu seems to consider him for a long moment more. The nice thing about Yuzu is that he doesn’t expect Shoma to fill silences. Yuzu is more than capable of that himself.
“I did okay though. You will have to work hard to beat my score.”
If Yuzu were anyone else, that would have sounded arrogant, or aggressive, like a challenge uttered to a bitter rival. With Yuzu, in this moment, with them standing mere inches apart, yesterday fresh on their minds, it almost sounds like comfort. Shoma always skates better knowing that Yuzu is out there. Yuzu always skates better knowing he has something to prove. Skating against each other gives them something to aspire to.
“So you don’t have to look so worried, Shoma.” Yuzu smiles, a slow curl that moves from his lips to his eyes in a soft wave of warmth that Shoma can follow with his eyes.
Yuzu reaches out, takes Shoma’s hands, curled together tightly in front of his belly and uncurls them, separates them to hold one in his left and one in his right. Shoma hadn’t realized he was tensing up again, that his hands were cold where he had pressed the blood out of them. Yuzu runs his thumbs over the backs of his hands in a gentle caress.
“The whole team will be cheering you on!”
Hah, Shoma thinks. That is not a helpful sentiment at all. He hates to think that he’s in Yuzuru’s place, now: To skate last and to end the competition is an honor but it also raises the audience's expectations. If he fails, if his performance isn’t capitvating or if it is riddled with mistakes-
He shakes himself out of it, tries to smile at Yuzu but knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Why aren’t you out there, anyway?” He makes himself ask.
“Ehh, “ Yuzu hedges, looking down at their hands. “I had an interview. And then it would have been awkward to sneak back out there.”
Shoma feels the smile freeze on his face. He had just assumed that Yuzu would be out there with the team, cheering him on. He hadn't thought that maybe Yuzu didn't want to. Yuzu looks up when he feels his hands tense again, and shakes them slightly to get Shoma’s attention.
“I’m obviously going to cheer you on.” He’s grinning, because Yuzuru, Shoma notices, likes this. Likes knowing that Shoma cares.
“Good.” Shoma says. He doesn't mind if Yuzu is cocky. Shoma put his affection for Yuzu out into the open yesterday.
But he also doesn’t say that he’ll perform his program for him, because that isn’t true. He is performing for the audience, to connect with the audience. As usual, as always. But knowing that Yuzu will actively be part of that audience, will be cheering for him? It makes his heart beat faster, makes his throat feel tight. Shoma forces himself to breathe, forces himself to swallow and breathe and not think about it, not focus on it too much. There is a fine line between motivation and anxiety, and he can feel himself crossing it.
Mihoko comes in, then. She smiles at Yuzu, then notices their hands, Shoma’s still clasped in Yuzu’s, and when she looks at Shoma, something shifts in her gaze. She’s still smiling, but there’s something sharp and protective in it when she shoos Yuzu off to take his place in the stands.
She doesn’t say anything about it, and Shoma is glad for it. Instead, she has him listen to his music and run through his program dry, twirling where his jumps would be, feeling the steps in the music. He loses himself in it, like he usually does, becomes fully immersed in the movement, the shift of his muscles, his balance.
He’s on the ice before he knows it, looking out at all those people. Looking at the judges.
Everything after is a blur.
He does keep the pink bow though.
He is still wearing it when they are in the shuttle on their way back to the hotel. He’d half forgotten about it, after Yuzu had stopped his attempts to dislodge it via a lot of hair ruffling, at least. Mai notices, smiles brightly at him. “It’s so cute!”
“Yeah!” yells Wakaba from the front seats, “You should wear it tomorrow! I’ll skate extra well if you do!”
He grins back at her, small but genuine, and nods his affirmative.
Yuzu, on Wakaba’s other side and kind of distracted by his phone, looks up at that and catches Shoma’s eye.
“I had it on first, though,” he says.
“Yeah, but you didn’t want to keep it on, so now it belongs to Shoma!” Mai replies, grinning at him.
Yuzu looks between them and sighs, returning his attention to his phone. This isn’t the end of it. Shoma can tell he is going to have to fight fto wear this pink bow headband, and Yuzu will not play fair. He mentally prepares himself for tickling, maybe a surprise headlock.
Instead, when they get out of the car and into the elevator, nothing at all happens. They don’t really talk, but Shoma watches him fidget, and wonders. Yuzu is crossing and uncrossing his arms, playing with the zipper on his jacket, bouncing slightly. He still has his phone in his hand, and it keeps blinking, new messages coming in rapidly that Yuzu reads but doesn’t answer. He follows Shoma out of the elevator, but that could still be coincidence, since Shoma doesn’t know where Yuzu’s room is.
Of course, Shoma promptly walks into the wrong direction for his own room. Yuzu is waiting in front of the elevator when Shoma turns back and walks back to him, shame-faced.
“Your room is down that way,” Yuzu says, and points down the other side, where a big sign proclaims 510 to 530. Shoma’s room number is 528, which he knows because Mihoko had texted it to him, along with the code. Initially, she had written it down on a post-it, but he had lost that.
He doesn’t get key cards, ever. He has a bad habit of losing those, too.
Yuzu isn’t laughing at him, but he is not not laughing. His smile is very, very bright.
“How do you know my room number?” He asks, and Yuzu shrugs.
“I have my ways…”
Shoma wants to say that that is creepy, but he imagines that he had probably told Miki last night, or maybe they’d found the post-it. Perhaps somebody in the hotel had told Yuzu. Shoma has to fumble in his bag for his phone and the code. Why would Yuzu ask anyone about his room, anyway. He didn’t really need to talk to Shoma until now.
His room is tidy enough, so he just lets Yuzu in. It’s not like he can just close the door in his face.
It’s here, caught between his untidy bed and the door, that Shoma really realizes how weird the situation is. They’ve never really hung out in each other’s hotel rooms before. In other people’s hotel rooms, yeah. In the lobby, in the rink, in restaurants and arcades. But never like this, on their own.
Yuzu sets his bag down in the corner of the room with a groan, then stands there awkwardly. Shoma just sits down on his bed, his bag already dropped where he'd stood. He looks at Yuzu. Yuzu looks back.
Shoma looses his breath.
It feels like earlier, before Mihoko had interrupted them, when Shoma had felt like something had lodged itself between his throat and his lungs and was growing, cutting off his air. He swallows, hard, and looks away, down at where his hands are resting on his knees.
This was easier when Yuzu was heartbroken and Javi was there to make soothing noises and be gentle and kind and guiding.
This was easier when Yuzu was reaching out and Shoma could just let him.
Shoma wishes, for a blinding moment, that Yuzu would just come over and pull him down. That Yuzu would reach out for him like he always does, cover him with his body like he had yesterday, instead of staring at him like he expects Shoma to say something. Shoma is terrible at saying things. All of Japan knows this, and most people who care about figure skating do, too.
Yuzu does.
Shoma can feel him, see him move closer out of the corner of his eye, feel him sit down next to him, not quite close enough for their sides to brush or their thighs to touch. He’s too far away to be comforting. Shoma swallows again, against that rising feeling of uncertainty that is gathering in the space below his throat.
“I think,” Yuzu starts, haltingly.
He stops, and Shoma can feel him shift, move a little to the side. He can feel him move further away, and he hates it.
“Ok.” Yuzu starts again, sounding more certain. “I think yesterday was important. And I don’t know how to deal with that, yet, but. Javi has been texting me, since the competition, to talk to you. To tell you, I guess, thank you. And that I appreciate it, yesterday, and that I am glad you were there and that you called him and that you stayed.”
Shoma’s head snaps up, half against his will. Yuzu, he sees, had turned to him, rather than moving away, so Shoma mirrors him, so they are knee to knee, tilted towards each other.
“Yes." Yuzu says, again. "Yesterday was terrible, and I felt terrible, but you made me feel better.”
Shoma can feel himself blushing. He nods, because of course. That’s why he called Javi, because Javi knows how to make Yuzu feel better.
“And so Javi suggested we explain everything. To you. Because you are involved and I want you to know. If you want to know?”
Shoma does not know anything, so he nods. He isn’t sure what Yuzu means, but maybe he will understand more. Yuzu is looking at him, serious and certain. His gaze is steady, and Shoma makes himself meet it, hold it.
“Things are better when you are there,” Yuzu says. He makes it sound like a declaration.
“I think that I am better, when you are there.”
Oh, Shoma thinks. "Oh."
He can feel his mouth twitching into a smile, because Yuzu is right. Things are better when Yuzu is there for Shoma, as well. Interviews are easier, practices are more fun. Podiums aren’t awkward, even the cameras aren’t so bad, because Yuzu draws their attention.
“I see Javi and Miki, and I see what they have, and I think about what Javi and I have, and how I want that and more than that, and then yesterday, everything was easy. Like everything just fit together. Me, and you, and him. And I want that again.”
Shoma nods.
“But I want you like that, and to have more than that, too.”
Yuzu pauses, looks down. And while before he seemed certain in what he wanted to say, and how to say it, now he falters. But it is easy to reach out, now. If before, Shoma had felt like he'd shared all his secrets, now Yuzu had evened it all out. It’s easy to take his hand, like Yuzu had held Shoma’s hand before. Yuzu’s head snaps back up, and Shoma has to grin at him, just a little, because it almost feels like, for a second, their positions are reversed.
Shoma can be brave, too.
He lets himself fall back onto the bed, and pulls Yuzu with him, like he’d wanted to be pulled. Yuzu goes, let’s himself be maneuvered so his body is curved towards Shoma’s, and Shoma can fit into that curve, can curl up in it and wrap his arms around Yuzu’s waist again.
They have hugged a lot today, and Shoma has been overwhelmed by it, by the attention and the quick rushed pace of it all. Now, everything slows down. Yuzu shifts a little, curls one arm under his head and the other around Shoma’s back, draws him in more closely.
Into the warmth that is building between them, against the skin of Yuzu’s neck, Shoma whispers, softly.
“I want to stay like this. I want to have this.”
He can feel Yuzu breathe out a sigh, feel his ribs shift as he’s breathing out slowly.
He tips his head back to look up at Yuzu, and Yuzu drops a kiss on his forehead. Shoma smiles and dips his head back a little further. He has to separate them a little to make it happen, but Yuzu’s arm is still wrapped securely around his waist, so that’s ok. Yuzu drops a kiss on his nose. Shoma dips his head back just a little more, and Yuzu, a smile caught in the corner of his mouth, breathes out quiet laughter.
He kisses him. Just a little, softly, just lips on lips.
“And this?” Shoma asks. He can be brave. "Can I have this?"
“And this.” Yuzu breathes back, smile audible in his voice. Shoma stretches up, catches Yuzu’s lips again. He opens his mouth, just a little, for just a little bit more. He can feel Yuzu smile against his mouth before answering him, before kissing him back intently.
Yesterday was terrible and they made it better.
Today was good. It wasn’t perfect, but they will work on that. For now, they have this and Shoma doesn’t want to doubt it. He just wants to kiss Yuzu harder.
Yuzu groans against his mouth and separates them. He’s breathing hard, and his lips are pink and shiny from kissing. He looks beautiful. Shoma dips back in, drops tiny kisses against Yuzu’s chin on the soft skin there and then over the scar, until he reaches a ticklish spot under his ear. Yuzu giggles, draws away to catch Shoma's mouth again. When they separate, his smile is fond.
“Well, that went a lot better than Javi expected.”
Shoma makes a questioning noise, makes himself breathe again. It’s seems like a complex situation, their frienship, but Yuzu sounds sure, sounds happy. Shoma doesn’t want to doubt him on this, and he wants to consider being a rival to Javi even less, especially because he wants to hug him rather a lot.
“We.. we’ve been talking a lot, about our friendship and what it means and how close we are. We’ve been trying to be less-“ Yuzu breaks off, drops another kiss onto Shoma’s cheek when he sees his frown.
“It’s weird to talk about, but Javi and I have been so close, for so long.”
“He makes everything better, too,” Shoma nods. He understands that, maybe better than Yuzu expects him to.
“Yes. He does. And I never want to lose his friendship, but I’ve been, I don't know. I haven’t been fair to him, you know? I’ve been very jealous, of Miki and how much time they spend together, even though Javi is always there for me.”
Shoma nods, thinks about Miki and the mischievous look in her face when she had ushered him into the elevator yesterday. Thinks about how she let Javi go without question when Yuzu needed him.
He nods again and holds Yuzu a little tighter.
“And then you moved up to seniors” Yuzu says, and smiles at him. “And we started to joke around, and I liked you. I wanted to be friends.”
Shoma closes his eyes in mortification.
“I avoided you so much.”
Yuzu laughs, the vibration of it caught between their bodies.
“I know! But you stopped. I wore you down," he laughs, "and then everything just kind of fell into place. And everything is better.”
It’s complicated, Shoma thinks. But is has been all along, and it hasn’t been a problem. He hadn't even noticed. He kisses Yuzu again, because Yuzu looks at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction. Shoma doesn’t think that this will change much. That this will disrupt anything.
“I think it will work out,” he says, slowly. He isn’t certain about it, but he isn’t certain about much, ever. Shoma doesn’t plan ahead too much. They will see a lot of each other, since their schedules overlap, he thinks. They have a lot of the same shows, in the next months, and he’d been looking forwards to that, anyway. Now they’ll just have more.
Yuzu shifts back a little, shifts Shoma onto his back more and leans over him to kiss him again, deeply. Shoma lets him, sighs into the kiss.
When they break apart, Yuzu grins at him, all uncertainty gone.
“It will work out perfectly,” he says. “We’ve married like five times. I don’t want a divorce.”
Shoma’s laughter breaks out of him like a surprise, and he buries his head in Yuzu’s neck. Yuzu laughs back at him, hugs him closer, kisses the side of his face and his ear, his neck.
Tomorrow, Shoma thinks, after he has started breathing evenly again, tomorrow they will cheer for the others, and they will do their best and they will kiss each other a lot.
He whispers the thought into Yuzu’s shoulder as he curls back into his side, and Yuzu nods.
They are almost asleep when Yuzu blinks at him, eyes catching on something, focusing. Yuzu starts to laugh and Shoma, confused, laughs with him.
“We fucked up your bow, Shoma.” Yuzu pulls it from Shoma’s head, where it has suffered greatly, looking crumpled and sad. Yuzu looks much too gleeful, so Shoma takes it and throws it over the side of the bed. He buries his hand in Yuzu’s hair and pulls him in, opens his mouth against Yuzu’s lips until Yuzu sighs and melts against him, kissing him back.
“I’m sure,” Shoma gasps out, between shallow kisses, when Yuzu pulls back to give him air, “I’m sure Kana has more of those.”
Yuzu kisses him like he wants to banish that thought. Shoma does not mind in the least.